#and this is why all this is so frustrating

[angelpuns]

Kid Leo Au: Reunion

Part 11!!

First of all...I just realized I forgot to color this entire week's worth of lines. I'm so mad. I can't just go back and do it either cause I had already saved and closed the file and I'm a fool who didn't make backups of the layers. Anyway, sorry for the sudden quality drop cause of that, I didn't notice til I was staring at Mikey trying to figure out why he looked different ;-;

Sadly this and the next part are kind of important so that's a bit frustrating. Oh well, I'll try and do better for next week's updates <3

ANYWAY- NEXT TIME ON KID LEO...WHY DOES DRAXUM SEEM SO CONCERNED? WILL WE FIND OUT?

Kid Leo Au Masterpost | First | Next

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 30] Graduation

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff

*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️

**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”

“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.

“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”

“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.

“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”

“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.

You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.

Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought. 

The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl. 

If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.

“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.

“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.

“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.

“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.

You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.

“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”

“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead. 

“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone. 

“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”

“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.

“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”

“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.

“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”

“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.” 

“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much. 

“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”

“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.

“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.

“Let’s get going.”

The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu. 

Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.

You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.

“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.

“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”

“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”

“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.

You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.

“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.

“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.

“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.

“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.

“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.

“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”

“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either). 

“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.

“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”

“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.

“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”

“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself. 

“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.

“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.

“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food. 

“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.

“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”

“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”

“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,

“Have you seen my mom?”

“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.

Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.

“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”

“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”

“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”

“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.

“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”

“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.

“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”

“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.

“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”

“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.

“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”

“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.

“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation. 

Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.

“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.

“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.

“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.

“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.

You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.

“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”

“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”

“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”

“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”

“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.

You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.

“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.

You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.

Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment. 

“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.

“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,

“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.

“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”

“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.

Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.

Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster. 

You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.

“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.

He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.

You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move. 

You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching. 

Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.

“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.

“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.

His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.

“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it. 

“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit. 

He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”

You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.

“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.

“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.

“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.

“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this. 

He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.

“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. 

You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.

“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you. 

He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.

“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”

“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”

“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.

You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub. 

“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.

“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace, 

“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”

[hgfictionwriter]

Discovery - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's feeling the lowest she has in a long time. Things are at the tipping point and she needs to choose to either confront things head on or lose you forever.

Warnings: G!P content. Heavy angst. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of rejection and self-loathing; self-sabotaging behaviours. Language.

A/N: Chapters one, two and three.

“I can’t believe you. I’ve waited all day to hear from you - and nothing. After everything that happened, you just leave in the middle of the night and just dead silence. Are you kidding me, Jess?”

“First you give me the cold shoulder all evening without any explanation as to why. Started by a conversation you began, might I add. I tell you I love you. We kiss and you literally throw me off of you.”

“Yes, I was upset and I didn’t want to talk. But you just ghost me all day? I know you withdraw when you’re upset or overwhelmed, but you don’t even have the decency to check in with me or give me some kind of an explanation?”

Jessie sunk into her seat on the couch as she read your messages again. She’d been staring at them on and off for the past hour and felt paralyzed, unable to act.

She’d managed to make it to training this morning, but she was certainly worse for wear. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles under them from a mix of sleep deprivation and the time she’d spent crying. Her teammates immediately clocked her upset and some fawned over her trying to suss things out and help, but she was largely unresponsive.

She just wanted to do her drills to keep her mind off of you and the absolute disaster she’d created.

Coach recommended she talk to the sports therapist, and while she nodded her agreement, she had no intention of rushing. She already knew what they’d say and she wasn’t interested right now. If she was willing to do those things, guess what, she wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament in the first place.

So here she sat at home this evening, in self-imposed solitude and catatonic. The apartment was dead quiet as she flipped between scrolling distractedly through her phone and re-reading messages with you and looking at pictures of the two of you.

She needed to respond. But it seemed no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what to say. Nothing was remotely adequate. She let out a shuddering breath as she continued to remain inert.

Her heart raced as another message came in from you.

“I’d like to think we’d built enough of a connection and you have enough respect for me to at least acknowledge me and respond. I’ve been sitting here making up excuses in my head for you all day, but reality is, you just choose not to talk to me.”

She let her head fall heavily back against the wall with a dull thud. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she felt herself start to tear up yet again.

The end felt inevitable, but underneath all of her fear and anxiety it isn’t what she wanted. It would be easier perhaps. Just close herself off again. Be single again for god knows how long. She was exceptional at pushing people away and pretending it didn’t matter.

Then, maybe, when it felt safe again and the hardship she was currently experiencing was just a distant memory, she would hope to meet someone as incredible as you again. But for what? So she could compare them to you? Miss you? To fuck it all up again?

She released a slow, steady breath and brought her phone back up to reply.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I was at training earlier and I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”

“She lives. Well, thank you for replying... So. Do you know what you want to say now?”

She sighed in frustration.

“No.”

She shouldn’t be so curt.

“I wish I did.”

“Well. That’s very helpful.”

“I have some things I want to say. But if you’re not interested in hearing them or trying to resolve anything, I suppose there’s no point.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“I want to know.”

“Do you actually? Because, frankly, even if I told you how I feel last night, I’m not that interested in humiliating myself further or wasting my time if we’re not on the same page.”

Jessie’s chest constricted painfully as she read your message. She never used to consider herself a selfish person, but seeing the toll she’d taken on you, she couldn’t deny it. She wiped angrily at a stray tear at the corner of her eye.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to feel that way and I’m sorry I’ve caused it. I do want to hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t want to do this through text. It’s going to fucking suck but I want to talk in person.”

Jessie sat forward to the edge of the couch and leaned her forearms heavily against her thighs as she studied your message.

She was scared. She didn’t want to do that. Still, she owed you that, the truth, and so much more. And even if you left hating her, she had to make sure you knew it really was all her - you’d been perfect and all of this rot branched from her.

And if it really was the end, she couldn’t resist seeing you one more time.

“Okay. Where and when?”

—————

Jessie’s hands were cold and clammy as she walked down the hall to your apartment. She breathed heavily before catching herself and steadying them. She compulsively opened and closed her fists as she waited for you to answer.

When you opened the door, your expression was a far cry from the one she was used to seeing greet her. Instead of seeing a bright or warm smile, you looked tired and weary.

Guilt radiated through Jessie; she caused this single-handedly. She was supposed to make you happy, bring you comfort, make you feel safe and loved. Instead, she left you looking like a shell of yourself. Slowly at first, small nicks here and there, before a catastrophic and now lingering blow.

“Come in,” you said with only the slightest inflection in your voice. You stepped aside but didn’t make eye contact as Jessie entered.

“I, um, got you this,” Jessie said after she set her shoes aside and took off her backpack. She pulled a vinyl record out of it and handed it to you. She met your discerning gaze briefly before dropping it to the record in her hand. “I know you’ve been looking for it, so…”

You tentatively took it from her, a frown on your face as you examined it.

“Thanks,” you said flatly.

She knew it wouldn’t fix things or make things up to you - not by a long shot - but she had the faintest hope you would be more receptive.

When she forced herself to look up at you again, she saw you still studying the record. Eventually, your frown deepened and you looked at her almost accusingly.

“I don’t get you,” you said. “You barely talk to me these past couple of days and you act all cagey but then you do this? It doesn’t make sense.”

Your face faltered briefly before you grew stoic once more. “Some days you seem to really like me. Really care for me and understand me and we connect so well. And then others it feels like you can hardly stand to look at me.” A flash of emotion appeared on your face and disappeared just as fast. Your voice strained vaguely before you steadied it. “Never mind touch me.”

Jessie swallowed and dropped her gaze in shame. You went on, your voice cracking.

“I’ve tried to be really patient. But after the other night…I’ve done a lot of thinking and I can’t help but admit how hard it’s been.”

You sighed heavily and set the record down on a nearby table before returning and folding your arms tightly against yourself and leaning back against the wall. Your brow was heavy with a frown.

“And I know you've been trying." Your voice grew taut. "Prior anyway. And that's probably what makes it the worst. It's been hard for you, too - to be with me." Your face fell and your lip trembled briefly as you looked away.

Jessie's heart ached as she watched you battle with your emotions. All of the fear and worry she'd let dominate her fell away, replaced with an overwhelming need to hold you and make you feel better.

"It hasn't been," Jessie beseeched, taking a step forward but stopping when your gaze flicked back to her, warning.

"Do you think I’m stupid?" You said sharply. "I know you can’t stand to touch me. At first, I kept trying to give myself, and you, the benefit of the doubt - but the other night really proved that not only do you most definitely not find me attractive,” you laughed acerbically, “I think I might actually even repulse you.” You stared at her a moment, letting your words hang in the air and feigning amusement before choking back a sob. You visibly clenched your jaw before you forced another empty laugh. “That’s a fun one. My therapist’s about to get a ton of business from me.”

You took a shuddering breath and your voice cracked as you spoke. "I already know how this ends.”

“That’s not at all what’s happening or how I feel,” Jessie protested. She pressed the heels of her palms firmly into her eyes and grit her teeth. Her voice strained with burgeoning emotion. “Jesus Christ. That’s not it at all."

Your face screwed up and you gave a sad shake of your head as you stared her down.

“Stop. Just stop with the vague excuses. Just be honest with me. I don’t need you to confirm it, but don’t lie and tell me otherwise. I can tell,” voice breaking at the end. “Every time you pull away. How uncomfortable you can be when we’re even remotely physical. You can’t stand to kiss me for any length of time. I can feel you just waiting to pull away, like you’re fucking counting down the seconds until it’s over.” You started sobbing. “It’s horrible. Knowing you don’t want me like I want you.”

Jessie took a step toward you and you recoiled. She couldn’t help but think - maybe much like how she had with you times before.

“And don’t give me this whole ‘you’re shy’ or ‘you’re awkward’ thing again. I deserve more than your excuses.” Your voice grew softer. “And it’s not your fault you feel the way you do. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. Sometimes there can be an emotional connection and the physical just isn’t there. I don’t blame you. But I do blame you for dragging this out." You sniffled, wiping agitatedly at a tear that rolled down your cheek before giving her a defiant stare. "So just do what you should’ve done from the beginning.”

“It’s not you,” Jessie started and immediately saw the way you tensed up, ready to argue. She spoke quickly and urgently, her voice pleading for mercy and understanding. “It’s not you. I promise. It’s me - and I know how that sounds. But you were never the problem. I need you to know that.”

You looked ready to explode and Jessie knew it was now or never.

"It's me. I-it's my body. And I've been terrified that you won't accept me," she stammered through, hands to her chest as her gaze remained rooted to the floor. Her lips parted and her shoulders rose and fell as her breathing began to quicken. She swallowed and found the courage to look up at you to see a scrutinizing, but perplexed expression on your face.

"I'm not like you," Jessie said softly, "or most girls. Physically." She held your gaze for a second, to let you begin to process, but to give her time to think as well. She could see you were confused, but you waited quietly for her to go on. "I-I," she started, before stopping to take a steadying breath, her shoulders relaxing as she did so. "I've always been different."

She was slow to proceed and you spoke tentatively, all accusations and harshness now gone.

"What do you mean? How so?"

Jessie swallowed, eyes transfixed on the floor once more. She scratched at the back of her neck so harshly that it hurt.

"The reason I can't be physical with you is because what you would see, and feel," she looked up at you as she exhaled, "isn't what you would expect." She studied you as you processed her words. "That's why I asked you if you'd slept with guys," she finished timidly, embarrassment and shame creeping in despite her efforts.

Your mouth fell open to speak, but nothing came out. You frowned and visibly struggled with what to say next. Jessie's mouth was dry, but she had to take the next step.

"Even though I'm a girl, I have...what a guy has," she said quietly.

Your mouth opened wider to speak, but still nothing came out. You held up a poised finger, cuing her to wait. Eventually you found your words. Jessie held your gaze despite how difficult it was.

"Are you telling me that you have...," you trailed off, your gaze settling on her crotch momentarily before looking up at her, a tinge of pink already on your cheeks, "...a cock?"

Jessie released a slow, shuddering breath through her nose as she continued to hold your gaze. She nodded.

"Yes."

She saw your eyebrows raise as you looked away and her words and emotions just came out in a torrent.

"So if you think I've been struggling, you're right, but that's why," she said bitterly, tears in her eyes already. "It really had nothing to do with you. You've been so perfect. And it's been killing me to lie to you. And to hurt you. But I've been so scared - and I just," she took a shaky breath, "I know I'm not what you signed up for. You didn't deserve any of this, but I was being selfish. I wanted you. And I didn't want to risk losing you, so I just kept lying and the longer I waited, the more impossible it felt to tell you." Jessie's voice broke and she wiped her nose before pulling her arms in tightly against herself.

"And in the end I fucked it all up. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I have. Hearing how I...," she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at you before clenching her jaw tightly. "Hurting you is probably the worst thing I've ever done." Her voice grew high as she fought through her emotions. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness. I would gladly take it, but I know I don't deserve it. You deserve far better than someone who would hurt someone they love the way I've hurt you."

Your brow furrowed as she finished and Jessie swallowed once more, clearing her throat before speaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it back the other night. I really wanted to." She gave you a desperate look. "I know it must seem like I have zero integrity, but, I couldn't tell you I love you without telling you," she paused, gaze falling briefly, "all of this." She looked back at you, taking in a slow breath. "I really do love you. And I want so much more for us, but I realize now that even if you were okay...with me...well, with the way I've gone about everything, I've probably ruined any chance for us."

Her face fell as more tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I just need you to know that you shouldn't feel badly about yourself, because you were never the problem. It was always me."

"This is a lot for me to process," you said slowly, thumb grazing idly along your arm. You glanced over at the couch for a moment before glancing back at her. "Um, why don't we sit down."

Jessie sniffled, overcome with surprise that you'd invite her in further. It took her a moment to comprehend it, but soon nodded eagerly. She followed you wordlessly to the couch, remaining standing as you took a seat. You looked at her expectantly before gesturing to the spot next to you.

She was mindful of the space between you. She didn't want to sit too close and inadvertently imply that things were suddenly fine. She sat stiffly, back straight, hands on the tops of her thighs as she deferred to you on how to proceed. She glanced at you in trepidation, waiting, but when you didn't say anything for several moments she spoke again.

"I completely understand that this is a lot to process," she validated with a fleeting glance. "While I've been thinking about nothing but this for months, this is all new to you."

"Yeah," you said quietly, still very much in your thoughts.

"And I want you to know that you don't owe me anything," she said. "I completely understand if this is too much for you or not what you want. No hard feelings." She almost laughed at the last statement as she sat here, congested and teary-eyed. There would be a lot of feelings, but not hard feelings. She rubbed her forehead. "And I understand if there are hard feelings towards me. I'm sorry I was such a coward. I just-" she shook her head quickly, dismissing the thought. "Never mind."

She heard you exhale gently and she peeked over at you. You were initially still, but soon shifted, surprising Jessie as you turned subtly towards her.

"Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of questions. And I still have a lot of confusing feelings and hurt. But - I meant it when I said I love you. So it's hard to see you hurting like this." You scratched at your temple before looking up at her. "Did I do something to make it harder for you to tell me?"

Jessie turned to you fully, a stern look on her face. "No," she said adamantly. "You were," she shrugged listlessly, "you really were - are - amazing. I guess I just let old fears and baggage control me."

"What do you mean?" You asked tentatively before holding up your hands and speaking quickly. "And if I ask something that's too much - just say so. I don't want to make you more uncomfortable."

Jessie frowned deeper. "You're too good for me," she said simply. "You shouldn't give a shit about whether I'm uncomfortable or not. But, let me be clear - for once - I will answer any question you have for me. Some will be easier to answer than others, but I want you to know everything. If you want. That's what I wanted all along, but I was just too scared."

"Well, if you love someone - you care about their boundaries and how they feel," you said plainly. Jessie looked at you and you looked away nervously, clearing your throat before turning back. "And. Backtracking. You...love me?"

Jessie smiled for the first time today. It was an emotional, watery, sad smile. But it was a smile. "Yes. I really do. And it's been absolute torture the past couple of days not talking to you - I know it's all my fault though."

You frowned, thoughts almost visibly churning before you set your gaze on her again.

"Wait. But I'm not your first girlfriend. So...was it like this every time?"

Jessie's posture slumped slightly at your question; more-so, the reminder it triggered. That you were the best and she'd treated you the worst.

"No. No, it hasn't been," she admitted as she picked at the fabric of her pants. "I, um, was more open before. And, uh, I guess it backfired. And I've been pretty reserved and nervous about it since."

"Oh," you said quietly, still deep in thought. "But your teammates know, right?"

"Yeah, they all do. Hard for them not to. And they're cool with it, thank God. But otherwise I keep it quiet. It doesn't seem like it, but I'm actually pretty comfortable with that aspect of myself these days. It caused a lot of angst for me for years, but I'm happy with who I am. Relationships though...that's a different matter altogether."

"I'm sorry, Jess," you said gently, pulling a confused look out of her. Again, you shouldn't be worried about her. "That sounds really difficult. That said, do you mind telling me more?"

Jessie turned to you more fully, your knees nearly brushing now. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. You were right that I was far from an open book, but I don't want to be like that anymore. I want you to know everything, if you'd like." She shrunk into herself a bit and waved a hand aimlessly. "And just because I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I think you'll forgive me or something. I understand that, you know, things could end. But I still want you to know."

Surprise flooded Jessie's system as you took her hand and gave it the faintest squeeze, continuing to hold it after.

"Jess. It's okay. I want to know."

She mustered up a tight smile for you and squeezed your hand.

She proceeded to tell you her story. Filling the gaps she'd craftily navigated during previous conversations. The embarrassment she'd felt. The otherness. The ridicule she'd experienced over the years. The rejection. The objectification. And the eventual defeat; of feeling like no one would get her or love her the way she wanted to be loved.

By the time she finished, a new set of tears had finished falling, but what she noted most of all was how you now held her hand in both of yours.

"Baby," you said softly, as you lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly. Jessie looked at you in surprise as she sniffled.

She'd expected the worst, so when you looked at her with warmth and compassion, it caught her off-guard to not see disgust or rejection.

"I'm so sorry you were made to feel like that. You didn't deserve that at all. Some people are so fucking close-minded and terrible. I'm so sorry you had to experience that," you told her.

Her shoulders hitched as she rode out the dying waves of her emotion.

"Thanks," she managed, her voice still congested and strained. "Now you know how hypocritical and truly horrible it was of me to make you feel the way those girls made me feel."

You tilted your head slightly and gave it a slow shake. "No. It's not the same. I mean, yes, I felt terrible, but you weren't trying to hurt me. And now I can understand where you were coming from."

Jessie shook her head in return. "It doesn't make it right though. So...if you let me, I'll do everything I can to try to make it up to you and try to rebuild the trust I've broken. Totally understand if that's off the table though."

"I," you started, chest rising as you took a large breath before relaxing once more, "still love you. So...no, it's not off the table. I still have to process a lot of this and reconcile some things. And, yes, reality is you hurt me, but everything makes so much more sense now. So. Thank you. For finally telling me."

Jessie nodded. "Thank you for hearing me out."

You fidgeted slightly and she watched you carefully. You felt her eyes on you and spoke hesitantly.

"We, um. Didn't exactly address my initial issue though. I mean, I understand now why you've been so closed off and flighty. But, you know, none of this necessarily means that you, um, find me attractive. Because that could still be a problem."

Jessie gave you a disbelieving look. "Of course I find you attractive. Well, okay," she slowed herself down, "I understand why you thought I didn't. But, now that you know everything else, my attraction to you is exactly why I couldn't be remotely physical with you. It was...a bit too much for me. Let's put it that way," Jessie finished as she looked away sheepishly. When she braved a look back your face was tinged pink.

"Oh. Okay. Well..., um. That's nice to know, I guess," you responded awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. That was probably too much information," Jessie mumbled. She cleared her throat before speaking more confidently. "So, no, you have nothing - at all - to worry about there. I think the bigger question now is if you would find me attractive. Now that you know that my, um, anatomy is different."

You blushed deeper and cleared your throat as well.

"Oh. I mean, you're still you. And, I'm curious-" you held up your hands quickly in defense, eyes closing as you corrected yourself, "-not like those other girls. No. I would never use you like that." You opened your eyes once again, calming yourself. "What I mean is. I'm still interested."

Jessie felt an ember of hope flickering in her chest. You were still blushing, giving her fleeting glances until you fully faced her, now serious and prim.

"You get one more chance," you told her firmly, holding up a finger. "I know a lot will be new and there'll be things to navigate, but I won't put up with you being distant and cagey again. Do not lie to me again."

Jessie nearly beamed. She straightened up eagerly and nodded her head rapidly in agreement.

"I won't," she promised before she took a second look at you. "Are you sure you want to try again?"

Your face scrunched up adorably as you shot her a look.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" You asked, affronted.

"No," she refuted, shaking her head adamantly. "I just want to make sure this is what you truly want. I know I dumped a lot on you just now, so...you are more than welcome to take your time to think. And I definitely don't want you to feel guilty in any way."

"I don't feel guilty," you told her. "And," you exhaled quickly, "as you were telling me about all of your experiences and how you've been treated, all I could really think throughout all of it is that I wished there was some way I or someone could go back and protect you from all of that." You picked at your nails idly. "And, I don't know, that I just wanted to hold you. And kiss you." You gave her another stern look, but it was mild at best. "You're not entirely forgiven yet. But I understand you so much better now. So, I do want to try again."

That heavy, horrible ache in her chest she'd been carrying with her the past while was replaced with a sensation of warmth and lightness.

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever met," she told you unwaveringly. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to make things up to you. I'll make sure you never have a doubt about me, or you, or us, again."

"That's a bold promise," you warned with a hint of a smirk.

Jessie smiled at you undeterred. She gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, stopping momentarily to speak before giving you a soft, slow kiss.

"And it's one I intend to keep."

A/N: Next up…smut.

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[rainrot4me]

TW: Size difference, monster fucking, tentacles, vaginal, just the tip

𐚁₊⊹

Slenderman had such a distaste for humans.

They were weak, greedy little creatures. The only purpose they served to him was completing tasks or scurrying for his praise, bending over hand and foot just for a sliver of his mercy. His disdain for them was never ending.

He was formidable, a force to be feared and respected.

So, why couldn’t he hold that power over you?

“Ooh… fuck- So big…”

Because you had him wrapped around your finger, that’s why.

“Ah- C’mon-”

Tentacles glided across your skin, gripping tight onto your arms and waist as you whined. The cryptid wasn’t even inside of your dripping cunt yet, but you were already a stuttering little mess. He loved it, could never get enough of just how excited you could get him.

You pressed your shoulders back into his chest, an angry huff as you force your shaking thighs lower. Slender’s desk chair was creaking as you shifted, his claws dug firmly into the fabric of the armrests while you tried so pitifully to press his tip into the tight ring of muscle at your warm entrance.

“Easy, love.” He groaned, sliding another tentacle between your thighs to rub against your clit, trying to easily open you up.

“Give it to me…” You’re near childish now, hips stuttering once again as his cock slips from your entrance and between your soaked lips.

You both wanted it so bad, frustrated whines and near tears as you let his length spread between your lips, gathering all of your slick and arousal to rut against your clit.

“Now. I need it now, Slender. Jesus-”

If anyone else talked to him like that, they’d be sprayed across the ceiling. But when your near-snarled command has his shaft twitching against you, there’s only so much he can do.

His claw is reaching to wrap around the back of your neck, pushing you forward until your flushed cheek presses against the cold wood of his desk.

You readjust, spreading your legs across his and arching your back deep enough for him to see your glistening cunt, so ready and needy. Your hands grip into the wood, clawing in anticipation.

“Nowww…”

“Fuck, little thing. Hold on-”

He’s wrapping tentacles across your back, snaring your wrists back to hold them behind you. Another comes to wrap around the base of his cock, his claw still gripped firmly against the nape of your neck and holding you still against his desk.

He’s pushing his cock head back against your entrance, the tight ring so unforgiving as he pulls your hips back.

“Oh fuck-”

A long his comes from your gritted teeth as you feel the sting. Slender’s slowly bobbing your hips back and forth, popping the slit of his cock in and out as he works you open slowly. You’re writhing, pushing back against his grasp on you, tears puffing in the corners of your eyes.

“Easy… Open up for me. C’mon, love, be good…”

He’s trying his best to coax you, tentacles splayed across your abdomen and sliding between the lips of your pussy to relax your body.

He’s never given this much effort for anyone, but he’d gladly spend the rest of the night stretching you loose.

You nearly scream when the bulbous head of his cock slips past your pulsing entrance and into the sweet grip of your cunt. Slender’s gripping your neck, the muscles on his face tensing and straining at the intoxicating feeling of your tight walls nearly sucking him in.

Tears fall from your eyes, his tentacles hauling your hips back to gently ride on the roundness of his tip. The muscle catches, you blubbering as he pulls out- just to push right into the ring again.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you to cum like this, hm?”

He can’t stand humans, but he’d happily waste his time on this one.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 THE GROUND FINDS ITS BRUTAL WAY TO ME

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: the moment you've been dreading has finally arrived—there's no turning back now.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: GOOOOOOOOD EVENING LOVEBUGS, HAPPY FRIDAY!!! anyway i hope you guys are excited for this chapter because i AM chapter seven through nine is the reason i started writing this fic, it all goes downhill from here HAHAHAHAHAHAH JKKKKKKK kind of BUT ANYWAY i hope you guys enjoyed, im having the time of my life writing this chapter and the other upcoming ones. im so excited for you guys to read chapter 9 actually and the end of chapter 8, it's gonna be soooo good i swear. anyway!! reblogs and comments greatly appreciated as always!! ENJOY heheh!

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 - i've been busy. MAFIA BUSINESS. rather graphic depictions of violence. character death (not anyone major). mentions of human/child trafficking. depictions of dissociation. i used a bit of creative liberty with the depictions of lovecraft, corruption (here in particular), and yosano's ability.

ANOTHER THING TO NOTE: our lovely reader IS A MAFIA EXECUTIVE !! as a port mafia executive, she does port mafia things, this will become very apparent in this chapter and the rest of the upcoming chapters. it hasn't been as apparent in the past few, so it might be a bit jarring to read (especially when we get to chapter 9) but it is something to keep in mind. additionally, she is FLAWED and that is very apparent with how she acts with a certain member of the ada. i wanted to add this warning just to give you all a bit of a heads up.

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Your foot presses the pedal against the floor as you race down the backstreets of the Kanagawa prefecture. Dazai has been trying to talk to you but you can’t even bring yourself to respond to him. You try but you’re incapable of pushing any words past your lips. He asks you where you’re going and your lips part to tell him but you can’t. He asks you if you’re okay and you try to say ‘I don’t know’ but all that escapes you is a shaky breath. He asks you what’s going on but your mind is on the brink of collapse.

You’re not going to get there in time.

You can hardly keep your eyes on the road and at the speed you’re going, you know you can’t afford to look away. But you can’t stop yourself from looking down at your phone, throat clogged with fear as you wait to see if Chuuya sends another text. You told him not to, told him to wait but he hasn’t even read your text, doesn’t know that you weren’t in Yokohama when he was about to use Corruption.

If he used Corruption as soon as he texted you thinking that you were in the area… it’s already been fifteen minutes. Chuuya has never used Corruption longer than five. He’d be ash and bone by the time you get there if he already activated it. You’re still at least ten minutes away from where he pinned his location even at the speed you’re going. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, slamming your hand against the wheel as you urge the car to go faster, watching the speedometer wobble in the red zone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Can you talk to me at least?” Dazai tries again, sounding frustrated. “What’s going on? Why did we have to rush out of the beach house?”

You don’t even know why Dazai is with you.

Well, that’s not true. You know exactly why Dazai is with you. There’s a sick feeling in your gut that leads you to believe that the Guild might know about Dazai already and if that’s the case, you can’t leave him alone at the beach house. You don’t think the Guild would have planned such a blatant attack on the Port Mafia without ulterior motives and with even the smallest reason to believe that their primary goal might be getting their hands on Dazai to back you into a corner… You just can’t risk it. 

But you’re risking bringing him to a battlefield where Chuuya might have activated Corruption. You try to convince yourself that he’s safer at your side than he is alone but… is that even true? Chuuya under the effects of Corruption is unpredictable and destructive, you can’t ensure his safety—you can’t even ensure your own. Every time he goes into Corruption, it’s both his life and yours that are most at risk, it’s why he rarely lets himself use it even when in trouble, so that’s how you know things must be bad.

“You’re not going to get wherever you’re trying to get to if you crash the car into a tree,” Dazai says airly, still irritated from how he’s side-eyeing you but none too bothered by the speed you’re racing down windy streets. “How about you slow down and tell me what’s going on?”

You let out a sharp puff of air. You don’t slow down, but you do force yourself to speak.

“Chuuya is in trouble. Bad trouble,” you finally say tightly. “The Guild… They launched an attack. I don’t… he might already be dead for all I know. I have to get to him—couldn’t leave you alone in case…”

“In case the attack was just a distraction to try to get to me?” Dazai finishes for you—as always, too quick and perceptive for a random college student. “Shouldn’t you try to figure out a game plan before, I don’t know, rushing head first into what might be a trap?” 

He’s far too sarcastic for your liking. You give him a cold look and to his credit, he does back down for the most part, but he’s still waiting for a response from you. 

“I have a plan,” you finally say, gnawing at the inside of your cheek. “I just…”

Need to know the situation. If Chuuya has already activated Corruption, you need to get to him as soon as possible. If Chuuya is dead, you need to figure out which other members of the Mafia are around so you can figure out how to deal with the remaining enemy—although if they killed Chuuya, your chances of winning are bleak. If Chuuya is still alive and hasn’t activated Corruption, you need to figure out the best course of action to take to prevent him from having to activate it. Without knowing the situation, you might as well be walking blind into a lion’s den. 

“What do you need me to do?” Dazai asks quietly.

“Stay out of the way,” you say too sharply. Your eyes flit to the side when Dazai winces and shifts back a bit, slowing down just a little to remove one hand from the wheel to grab his and squeeze it gently. “The Flags should be there too… At least Albatross, Iceman and Piano Man… Doc is probably off the field waiting for injuries. You know Albatross—he was the one with me at your apartment and in mine the day you came over while I was drunk—get to him, he’ll bring you to wherever Doc is. If you can’t get to him, Klaus and Akutagawa are on their way… might be there already, get to one of them and they’ll get you somewhere safer.”

Dazai doesn’t look pleased by your directives but he nods. 

“What if… what if I can’t get to anybody?” he questions hesitantly after a few moments. 

Your eyes meet his for a split second before you let out a heavy breath. You don’t really want to consider what to do if he can’t get to someone because that means he’ll be in much more danger than you’re willing to accept. After a few moments, you nod to the glove box, watching from the corner of your eye as he opens it and freezes up a bit when he sees the gun inside.

“Only use it if you have to,” you tell him quietly, “and if you have to use it…”

Aim for the head, you want to say, but you can’t push the words out because fuck, what have you dragged him into? A few months ago, his biggest problem was figuring out what he was going to use as inspiration for his fucking writing workshop project and now you’re telling him to shoot to kill if someone comes after him while he’s alone and vulnerable.

Chuuya was right. Chuuya was right and you’re a goddamn fool for not listening to him. You should have cut Dazai off right away, right when you realized things were going too far, you never should have let this happen. You knew better.

You knew better.

“I’ll do what I have to.” Dazai nods, throat bobbing as he keeps a steady face, clearly trying to make himself seem unbothered when he sees how distressed you are. You watch as he fumbles to click off the safety of the gun. “It’s okay.”

“You won’t have to do anything,” you say tightly, gaze snapping to the side when ground beneath the car shakes violently and a loud crashing noise comes from the left. Your eyes focus on a dirt path leading deeper into the forests on the outskirts of the Kanagawa prefecture and grimace before taking a sharp left. “But keep it on you just in case.”

Dazai nods, letting out a long breath, dark eyes darting around nervously as you turn off the car’s headlights to continue down the dirt road more inconspicuously. You don’t get more than half a mile before you have to pull over onto the side of the road when you hear fighting in the distance—explosive and dangerous. You stop Dazai before he opens the door to get out of the car and he looks at you curiously, waiting to see what you have to say.

For a moment, you contemplate telling him to wait in the car for you but you can’t, because if anyone happens upon the car then he’ll be alone and vulnerable. So, instead, you reach forward and cup his cheek. His lashes flutter as he leans into your touch and you run your thumb along his cheekbone, watching him with a heavy feeling in your chest.

This is all your fault.

You brought him into this life. 

You let them back you into a corner like this. 

You ruined his life.

It’s all your fault. You let this happen. 

“Get to Albatross,” you say, hating the way your voice cracks. “To Albatross, or Iceman, or Piano Man. Get to one of them and let them get you out of here, okay?” 

He nods, keeping his face pressed to your hand as he looks up at you through his lashes. “I will.”

“Doc will probably be three miles out from where the combat is taking place. Whoever you get to—the two of you will head there on foot, they’ll tell you what to do and make sure there’s no one tailing you guys, but you’ll have to be quick.”

Dazai gives you a small, wavering smile. “I almost failed my phys ed class in high school because I couldn’t complete the mile fast enough.” 

You snort. “I can’t believe you actually just admitted that out loud.”

Dazai smiles sweetly and then says, “Kiss me before we go?” 

Your lips curve up gently as you lean in to press your lips against his. You feel him let out a soft, pleased sigh but even with your lips moving slowly against each other, you can’t help but feel the dread build more and more in your chest.

You pull back to look him in the eyes again as you whisper, “Be careful.”

“No you,” Dazai says with a simpering smile as he leans in so he can brush his nose against yours. For a moment, he looks as if he wants to say something but then he seals his lips shut and gives you another soft smile. 

I’m sorry, you want to say but the words just don’t come out. You think Dazai must know what you’re trying to say from the way he squeezes your hand. It’s all too soon and all too long before you push yourself away from him and step out of the car.

The brisk early morning air is almost uncomfortable as you breathe it in. You usually find it refreshing—you like the morning, you’re always more productive at dawn even if most nights you find yourself up until the moon sets in the west trying to get work done. But now, you only find discomfort, a tight feeling in your chest and a prickly feeling across your skin. Your hair stands on end as you reach for the gun holstered at your side, flicking off the safety as Dazai comes to stand next to you.

“Stay behind me,” you tell him quietly.

You can hear the fighting in the near-distance. Can feel it. You can hear the sounds of gunshots and people yelling, some voices you recognize as the Flags and others you don’t recognize at all. The ground is shaking—undoubtedly proof of Chuuya using his ability and you can only let out a sigh of relief now, realizing that he must not have activated Corruption yet. 

If he had, the entire forest would be obliterated. 

You motion for Dazai to follow you. He’s light on his feet—lighter than you expected from a twenty two year old college student—he’s careful not to step on any twigs and stays close behind you, each step finding where yours had lifted from the ground as soon as you move from it.

You make your way in the direction of the shouting and fighting. Every step forward leaves you more and more ridden with dread—your feet feel heavy like weights are holding you down, your mouth feels like it’s filled with ash. You should be moving faster than you are—your friends, Chuuya, they’re in danger but… but the closer you get, the closer Dazai is to danger.

What are you doing? You think desperately. What are you doing?

You doubt yourself. 

You doubt yourself so much that a part of you deep down wants to turn on your heel and drag Dazai back to safety, out of danger, out of this shitty forest, out of your life. It’s not worth it—your happiness isn’t worth his life. He’s convinced himself that he cares about you, that he needs you, that you make him happy but you know it’s not true. You know it’s just your ability at work.

But it’s too late now.

The distant shouts have become near—you see Albatross, Piano Man, and Iceman all crouched beneath rubble, grimacing as they dodge… you don’t know what they’re dodging and quite frankly, you don’t think you want to know but you don’t think you’re going to have a choice. 

You don’t even spare a look to the battlefield, reaching back to grab Dazai’s wrist so you can drag him in front of you, pressing your hand to his lower back to make him move faster. You only just barely get him down beneath the metal that the three Flags are using as cover before another… thing (a tentacle?) is snapping out toward you—luckily, Iceman is quick to the draw as always and prevents it from taking off your head. 

Piano Man yanks Dazai closer to him, away from the edge of the rubble, and Albatross wraps an arm around your waist with a wild smile. “There ya are, dollface, we’ve been waiting on you.”

Your eyes linger on Dazai for a split second, seeing the wide-eyed expression on his face and how his knuckles are white around the grip of the gun you gave him. The guilt claws to your throat again but you force it away as you focus your attention on Albatross.

“Tell me the situation,” you say, voice rougher than you intended. “What’s happening?”

“The fuckin’ Americans lured us out here,” Iceman says, taking a long drag of his cigarette before laying back down flat against the ground, eye looking through the scope and chin pressed to the stock of the sniper rifle as he prepares for another shot. “There’s only two of them but something’s wrong with one of ‘em.”

“What does that mean?” you demand, looking between Iceman, Albatross and Piano Man. Albatross grimaces and looks away, Piano Man meets your gaze. Iceman pulls the trigger to the gun and Dazai cringes at the sharp noise, but you have to focus on Piano Man’s response over trying to comfort him.

“It won’t die,” Piano Man says, the characteristically whimsical tone to his voice long gone, face pinched. “No matter what we hit it with.”

“I’m sorry?” you ask, staring at Piano Man blankly as you wait for him to elaborate.

“It won’t die,” Albatross repeats, looking equally stressed as he manhandles you to face the other direction, looking in the direction of the battlefield where Chuuya is in combat with an unfamiliar black-haired man whose arms seem to have transformed into tentacles whipping around at a lethal speed, the dismembered bodies of his subordinates littered in pieces across the forest floor. “He has a partner who has taken cover in the forest too. Can manipulate trees. Can’t fucking get to him because of the tentacle monster.”

You suddenly wish you never left the beach house.

“What the fuck,” you breathe out, watching as the man (man?) grows tentacles to reattach his head to his shoulders after a devastating blow from Chuuya that should have sent his head flying. “Where-”

Movement from the corner of your eye catches your attention and your head snaps to the side to focus on where four people—one very unfortunately familiar—are taking cover in the tree line, talking frantically amongst each other.

“Yeah,” Albatross mutters, shoulder pressed to yours as he follows your gaze. “The Agency showed up too. We don’t know why, haven’t been able to get over there because of fuckin’ Woody Woodpecker over there.”

“Steinbeck,” you say, voice sounding distant even to your own ears as your eyes tunnel in on Yosano Akiko, the same woman who has been haunting you for over a decade now. God, you’ll never be free of her, of the reminder of your inadequacy. You have to force yourself to look back at the situation at hand. “John Steinbeck. The Grapes of Wrath. An executive of the Guild. Big in the US farming industry but that’s just about-”

“We don’t need an info dump on him, Christ, how do we kill him?” Iceman says dryly and you give him a withering look.

“I was getting to that,” you reply icily. “The vines he controls. They and anything they attach to are extensions of himself, meaning if you attack them…”

“It harms him,” Iceman finishes, the corner of his lips curling up into a slow smirk. “Got it.”

You look over to Albatross. “What types of weapons do you have on you?”

Albatross winks at you. “What don’t I have on me?”

“Can you smoke him out?”

“For you, dollface, I can do anything.”

You roll your eyes but grimace as Chuuya is knocked backward hard, blood spilling from his mouth as he takes a violent hit from the black-haired man that you don’t recognize. He looks exhausted, you wonder how long he’s been fighting trying to protect the Flags and the guilt that’s been hanging over you like a dark cloud intensifies. 

“If we can’t figure out any weaknesses, Chuuya is probably going to have to use Corruption against that thing,” you say quietly. “... We need to make sure there are no interfering factors before he activates it to make sure his time in Corruption is as short as possible. We draw out Steinbeck, I’ll go out there and get information from him. Once we kill him, we figure out if those detectives are allies or enemies today. Handle them if they’retheir enemies. Then, you guys need to get the fuck out of the area.”

You need Dazai out of here, you think, teeth grinding together as you look between the forest, the fight between Chuuya and that monster, and then to Dazai, whose face is white and eyes are trained on you, as if he’s trying to keep himself calm by training his attention on the only person in the vicinity that he knows he can trust. You want to reach out and grab his hand but you can’t move.

Piano Man squeezes your shoulder. “As soon as Steinbeck is handled, I’ll get him to Doc. I don't want to bring him through the forest while Steinbeck can pretty much control it.”

You nod and then look at Albatross. His lips curl into a crooked grin as he holds up his fist to you. “Ready? Gotta be quick once I’ve got him panicked running out of the treeline otherwise he’ll get to that fuckin’ squid and we’ll lose our chance.”

You bump your fist against his. “I know what I’ve got to do. You better not fuck up.”

“When have I ever?”

“Too many times to count.”

“... Rude.”

Albatross heads off without another word and you watch with bated breath, waiting for Steinbeck to flee the forest so you can make your move. You’ll have to be careful of the stray tentacles unless you want to lose a limb or two, but you trust Iceman to cover you and you know Chuuya will figure out what you’re trying to do so he’ll be quick to adjust accordingly.

But it just… has too far of a range. The tentacles can reach too far, too quickly. As powerful as Chuuya is, he can’t be in two places at once, so someone else needs to take over the right flank while he handles the left so there are no openings for it to get to you while you interrogate Steinbeck…

As Albatross heads in his direction, you head in your own direction, darting from your safe cover with the other two Flags and Dazai over to where the four detectives are taking cover. Yosano is the first one to look at you, a conflicted expression on her face as she stares at you. You can’t even bring yourself to look her in the eye, instead focusing your attention on the blonde.

“Are you here as enemies or allies?” you ask tightly, getting straight to the point because it’s only a matter of time before Albatross smokes out Steinbeck.

“Until that thing is dead, it’s the enemy,” the blonde says, raising his chin. “We’re here to protect Yokohama.”

You scoff—he says that as if you guys aren’t, you think bitterly, but you don’t have the time to argue. Instead, you nod in the direction of where Albatross left. “One of my comrades went to draw out the Guild member hiding in the trees. Once he’s out, I’m going after him to figure out its weakness. Chuuya can’t handle the right and left flank at the same time, the thing has too wide of a range and he can’t be in two places at once. You guys need to hold off the right flank while he holds off the left so I can get the information from Steinbeck.”

The blonde looks disgruntled by the order, and certainly doesn’t seem pleased by the prospect of working with the Port Mafia, but he steels his face and nods, evidently more concerned with the threat that the monstrous man-creature in the center of the clearing poses more than you and the Mafia.

Yosano says your name quietly, but Albatross finishes the job just in time so you don’t have to acknowledge her—as quick and efficient as ever. As much as you give him shit for everything, he’s always been the most reliable to get the job done. It takes not more than five minutes before the entire northern sector of the forest is burning and John Steinbeck is stumbling from the shrubs, pain twisted on his face as he gasps for air and coughs over the smoke clogging his lungs.

You strike just as quickly to get to Steinbeck before his partner can get him back somewhere safe behind him; he darted out close to where Piano Man, Iceman and Dazai are still taking cover. The blonde doesn’t even see you coming because of the way he keeps rubbing at his eyes. You kick his ankles out from under him hard and drive your foot into his back, slamming his head hard against a flat rock to stun him.

You grab him by the hair to flip him onto his back and press the muzzle of your gun beneath his chin before he can reorient himself. His eyes are still partially glazed over when you drive your knee into his chest and settle above him, giving him a sweet smile. 

“You must be Steinbeck,” you say lightly, “I’ve learned a lot about you recently.”

Steinbeck’s expression twists when he recognizes you and instantly, you’re met with a faceful of blood as he spits it on your face. You click your tongue in disgust and whip the barrel of your gun against his jaw, watching his eyes bulge in pain as you wipe the blood off of your face.

“You’re going to tell me all about your friend over there,” you tell him, voice cool. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Steinbeck hisses, cringing at the pain that blooms through him when he speaks. “You and your friends are done. Lovecraft can’t be killed. You’re going to join the rest of your subordinates in pieces on the ground.”

“For your sake,” you murmur, sending Chuuya your silent thanks when he positions himself between you and Lovecraft, “that better not be true.”

“I was told you were cruel, but it’s so kind of you to be worried about my wellbeing,” Steinbeck says, lips slanted upward in a smile too arrogant for your liking, leading you to believe you’re really not going to like what he’s about to say next. You’re proven correct swiftly. “Especially when you really should be worrying about yourself and your little friend over there now that our leader, Francis, has confirmation about his existence. I was also told you were smart, but this was a bit of a silly move on your part, hm?”

You raise your chin, careful to not let your sudden distress show on your face as you look down at him blankly. 

Is that what this is all about? Was it not them setting you up to try to get Dazai alone? Did they not even know about Dazai yet? Was Fitzgerald just trying to get confirmation on his existence and you just played right into it like a fool? Or is Steinbeck just trying to get into your head? You don’t know. 

“Let me rephrase,” you say flatly, “for your sister’s sake, that better not be true.”

You watch as Steinbeck’s face shifts as soon as your words register through his head. It’s only then that you finally decide to use your ability. You’d been contemplating whether or not you’d get quicker results by trying to ease him into revealing the information or if you should intimidate him into it, but from what you’ve heard about Steinbeck—he’s devoted to the cause and will do whatever it takes to get the job done.

The only thing he’s more devoted to is his family.

“I told you, I’ve learned a lot about you,” you say softly, lips curling up. “Little Eden is turning thirteen this year, isn’t she? A teenager. She’s going to be a high schooler soon. You must be proud… She’s a little above the age range that Paz seeks out for his rings, but I’m sure he’ll find some kind of work for her.”

Paz’s trafficking rings are not to your taste. You’ve never been fond of the business, try to avoid it as much as possible, especially after taking Klaus in, so you’re not going to contribute to them in any way, but Steinbeck doesn’t need to know that. You just need him to believe you will and from the reputation that follows you and the black tendrils of fear curling around his brain courtesy of your ability, you think he’s plenty convinced. 

“Don’t you dare go anywhere near her, I swear I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you interrupt, tilting your head to the side. “This isn’t on me, Steinbeck. Your decisions will decide what happens to your family. So, you can sit here and be stubborn—I’ll let you live, if only so you can go back to that lovely town you call home in Glidden, Iowa so you can find your parents strung up like the pigs you sell to slaughterhouses and all eight of your younger siblings separated all across the world in different trafficking rings. Or, you can tell me what I want to know and die here so your family can live. It’s your choice.”

Steinbeck’s face is a ghastly pallor as he stares up at you, white and gaunt with eyes void of reasonable thought. “You’re doing something to me,” he says shakily. “I can’t-I can’t think. I don’t-they said you didn’t have an ability but you’re doing something to me. I can’t think.”

You smile. You don’t even have to keep your ability activated—never do, not with fear, it always spirals, the mindkiller—so you’re not even lying as you tell him, “I’m not. I suggest you start talking because if the next words from your lips aren’t telling me what exactly can kill your little friend over there, the next words from mine will be your home address to Octavio Paz.”

“He can’t be killed,” Steinbeck says, expression still painted with fear, pleading for you to believe him. “He can’t. Lovecraft-he’s not-he’s not like us. He’s invulnerable on the outside. He’s not killable.”

That can’t be true. Your breath shakes a little as you lift your gaze to look over at where Chuuya is still ardently trying to defend you from Lovecraft’s attacks, batting away tentacles and taking hits so they can’t get to you, to where the blonde member of the Agency grunts as he takes a painful blow to the side to protect one of the other detectives. That can’t be-

“On the outside,” a familiar voice calls frantically, loud over the fighting but too close for liking. Your head twists around to see Dazai hanging off the rubble that the Flags had been using as cover, ignoring Piano Man as he tries to drag the stupid boy back to safety. “He said that he’s invulnerable on the outside.”

Your eyes widen when you realize what Dazai is trying to get at and when you look down at Steinbeck, it’s with far more malice. You’re tired of this—Dazai shouldn’t be here, you were stupid enough to fall into the Guild’s trap and now Chuuya is at risk because of your incapability. God, you need to end this conflict. 

“So, even after all of the threats, you still try to lie to my face to protect him and the Guild. You’re going to die here… you won’t be alone though, your family will join you soon enough.”

Steinbeck’s eyes fly open with panic but neither of you get the chance to say anything else because suddenly, the entire earth is trembling. You gasp in pain as you’re tossed a few feet away, shoulder slamming against the same rock you’d bashed Steinbeck’s head against. The world spins as you stare up at the sky, trying to figure out what happened, but you’re only met with an incomprehensible sight.

What?

You-

You don’t even know what you’re looking at. Your lips part as you stare up at the massive creature that’s suddenly in your line of vision—something so foreign and ungodly that you think it doesn’t belong on the earth. The air around you has become heavy and oppressive, the particles themselves holding you down like weights; it’s early morning so it should be light out, but somehow your surroundings feel dark and gloomy, unnaturally so.

Is that… Lovecraft? You only manage to put it together because the monstrous creature is the same color as the tentacles that had been trying to cut you and Chuuya down. You can’t help but wonder what demon Francis Fitzgerald must have dealt with to get something like this on his side. 

You don’t snap out of your dazed, horrified state until you hear a scream of your name coming from your left. You’re too slow to the draw when you realize that Dazai is trying to warn you of an attack—Steinbeck must’ve recovered when you were still stunned by the appearance of Lovecraft’s new form and he’s flung his hand forward, sharp grape vines hurtling right toward you, about to pierce through your chest when-

When the branches wither and crumble to the ground. When a shot rings through the air and finds itself embedded in Steinbeck’s forehead. You let out a breath of relief and turn to thank Iceman but you freeze when you realize it’s not Iceman who protected you from a would-be lethal blow because he’s still scrambling from being tossed several feet away by the blast of Lovecraft’s transformation.

Instead, it’s Dazai standing there, lips parted in shock and fingers shaky around the gun you’d given him for protection, the one you promised him he wouldn’t have to use. 

“I’ll do what I have to. It’s okay.”

“You won’t have to do anything.”

“Get him out of here,” you breathe out, horror clogging your throat, preventing you from raising your voice because what have you done? What have you done? What have you done? “Get him out of here, now.”

You feel sick, your stomach twists and turns and your vision blurs. Your fingers feel numb and clunky and you can hardly focus as you try to look over at Chuuya, who’s still staring up at Lovecraft, aghast. You need to focus. Need to get rid of the most imminent threat. Then, you can come to terms with what you’ve just allowed to happen. 

Only then.

“Chuuya,” you shout for your friend over the ominous sound of birds screeching as they fly away from the forest. He looks back at you, eyes wide and wild. “It’s weak from the inside. Now’s the time.”

Chuuya’s gaze becomes steely as he nods, turning his attention back to Lovecraft and slowly pulling off his gloves. You turn to run for cover but don’t get more than a step before a familiar black tendril is wrapping around your waist, yanking you thirty yards away just as the entire world begins to shift around you. You land hard against Akutagawa’s chest, grimacing as Klaus throws himself over the two of you when a shockwave rattles the entire forest, knocking down nearly all of the trees in the vicinity.

“Are you okay?” Klaus asks breathlessly. “What’s going on?” 

“Long story,” you say as you push yourself into a sitting position. “Just… be ready for the worst case scenario.”

Klaus’s eyes widen but he nods and instead of focusing your attention on Chuuya so that you can get to him as soon as his battle with Lovecraft ends, you find your eyes seeking Dazai out, trying to make sure that he got out of the immediate impact zone with Piano Man before Chuuya activated Corruption.

But you can’t find him. Your gaze becomes more and more panicked as your head swivels around trying to spot them. They shouldn’t have gotten that far—they should still be in your line of vision but-

Shit.

Shit.

Your throat swells when you finally catch sight of Piano Man’s white and black bob fifteen or twenty yards away to your left. His face is twisted and he’s struggling to lift a fallen tree—your lips part to tell Klaus to get to them but you can’t even push the words out. You can’t see Dazai from the angle you’re standing at, but you can see the frustration on Piano Man’s face and the stress as his eyes flicker up to where Chuuya is fighting Lovecraft.

“Something… is wrong with Executive Nakahara.” You hear Klaus say behind you, voice wavering. You look back at him, seeing the disturbed expression on his face as he stares at the fighting. “He’s not usually this aggressive under Corruption, is he?”

The dread you’ve been feeling all morning intensifies as your head snaps back in the direction of the battle. At first, you think nothing is out of the ordinary—Chuuya is destructive while under the effects of Corruption, always has been. Gravity brings ruin to the land around him, slaughters his enemies and allies alike; it’s no different now, you watch as Lovecraft falls to the destruction of the calamity god Arahabaki and you wait for it to calm down, always does when it realizes all of the immediate enemies in the area have been destroyed. 

Or, maybe calm down isn’t the right word but it does become more reckless in its efforts to destroy, blows holes in the ground and laughs at the destruction, is less aware of its surroundings—it’s only then that you approach it to put it to sleep, but now…?

Chuuya—no, Arahabaki is still hunting. It hasn’t celebrated the defeat of Lovecraft, head whipping around and black eyes wide and searching. You don’t know what it’s looking for but you don’t like it, rising to your feet slowly, pulling your wrist away from Klaus as he tries to stop you from moving.

Is it looking for the detectives, maybe? Chuuya would probably consider them his enemies and Arahabaki would feel those residual emotions and he would know they’re here even if they’ve seemingly disappeared. You think maybe you should intervene—if Arahabaki kills the detectives and Fukuzawa Yukichi learns of it, it’ll make messy times even messier for the Port Mafia. But… there is always the chance you can blame it on the Guild.

No, it’s not worth risking making the situation worse than it is. 

“I’m going to go to him,” you say quietly. “Be ready.”

“Maybe you should wait,” Klaus tells you hesitantly but you ignore him. “Something’s not right.”

 “Each second I wait, the closer Chuuya gets to death,” you hiss. “I’m not waiting.”

You don’t bother listening to the next protest that’s bound to leave both of your subordinates’ lips. You can see Akutagawa’s face twisting so you know it’s coming; instead, you turn around and make your way slowly in the direction of Arahabaki.

God, it’s disturbing, a sight so unearthly that you can hardly stand to look at it. Black guck is splattered all across the forest floor from where Arahabaki had torn Lovecraft apart from the inside out, chunks of the tentacles littered around the area. And Arahabaki itself is there in the middle of it, using the body of your closest friend as a grotesque vessel of calamity—the ground shudders around him, rubble suspended midair as gravity fluctuates precariously. No matter how many times you see Chuuya under the effects of Corruption, you’ll never get used to the way it transforms him: the way his eyes become black voids, empty and haunting, the way his pale skin starts to rot black from his fingertips to his forearms to his biceps. 

Destroys him just as much as it destroys everything around him.

You don’t know if it’s just your imagination when you approach cautiously and realize that the rot seems to be spreading faster this time. It’s been less than half of the amount of time he was in Corruption during the conflict with the Inagawa-kai and yet already, the black decay has spread to nearly his elbows. Either way, it only serves to stress you out more.

You’re less than ten yards away from it when Arahabaki suddenly stiffens and goes still, all of the rubble suspended in the air drops to the ground with a thunderous noise. Your breath catches in the back of your throat—Arahabaki has never sensed your presence before, you and Chuuya theorize that it’s because of how comfortable Chuuya is around you. He thinks that parts of it transfer over to Arahabaki when it takes over so it just instinctually doesn’t register you near him or as a threat. It’s the only reason why you’re even able to approach it when it’s in control, otherwise you’d be as dead as any other enemy in the vicinity—you still have to worry about the stray rubble and increased pressure of course, but it’s much more manageable, and survivable, than a God of Calamity smushing you like a bug.

Has that changed? Has something changed?

You can hardly breathe as Arahabaki looks over its shoulder and a shiver runs down your spine at the sight of Chuuya’s warped face. But Arahabaki’s gaze shifts over you like you aren’t even there. 

Instead, it looks past you.

Looks past you right at Piano Man and Dazai.

Iceman joined them and with their combined effort, they managed to get the tree off of Dazai’s leg, freeing him from where he was pinned to the ground. His ankle looks bad, twisted in all of the wrong spots, blood staining his tan pants. But the three of them stand frozen, Iceman mid-reloading his gun, Piano Man mid-step, and Dazai standing uncomfortably on his twisted ankle, none of them even daring to take in a single breath as they wait for Arahabaki to look away from them. In the entire vicinity, no one moves, no one breathes, no one even blinks—a bunch of deer frozen beneath the gaze of a predator, knowing that the wrong move would lead to them getting torn to pieces.

And then-

And then Dazai shifts onto his good leg.

The crunching of leaves beneath his foot is so loud in contrast to the stillness that had spread across the area, and it’s the only thing needed to get Arahabaki moving.

“Chuuya, no!” you scream futilely as Arahabaki uses gravity to propel itself forward in the direction of Dazai, Piano Man and Iceman. 

The two Flags shove Dazai behind them and brace themselves for the brunt of Arahabaki’s attack but you’re faster and positioned at just the right angle between the three of them and Arahabaki to throw yourself right in Arahabaki’s path. And maybe it’s stupid, you realize that a bit too late when you’re face to face with the god that’s using your friend as a vessel but-

But you can’t let it get to Dazai.

You can’t put Arahabaki to sleep without physical contact—sleep is too strong of a state and Arahabaki is too powerful of a subject. It’s one of the only things you can’t induce without physical touch. If you could just-

Your vision blurs and you taste iron. Something warm and thick pools in the back of your throat and you gag on it, feet suddenly dangling in the air as you stare down at Arahabaki’s empty eyes. You can hear people yelling around you—Klaus and Akutagawa rushing in your direction, Albatross firing off shots at Arahabaki to try to get its attention off of you, Dazai screaming your name.

Dazai.

Shit.

You don’t want him to see this. 

You think that Arahabaki must’ve ruptured one of your lungs because every breath you take in is wet and the oxygen just isn’t reaching where it needs to. Your vision swims with black dots and you need to lift your hand—if you could just wrap your hand around his forearm, it would be worth it. You could put him to sleep; you always knew one day you’d probably meet your fate at the hands of Arahabaki, you just wish that Dazai wasn’t here to witness it. 

But you can’t. And it’s frustrating, it’s so frustrating, your eyes feel wet and you don’t know if it’s from tears or blood considering the pressure around you just keeps getting more and more intense. His forearm is right there, impaled through your fucking stomach, inches away but you can’t lift it high enough for you to force Arahabaki to sleep, your arms just sway limply at your side until Arahabaki has had enough of you and tosses your body several yards away into a pile of rubble.

You can’t move and the fucking bastard managed to land you at a perfect angle for you to witness what’s about to happen. Even as your vision starts to go out, you’re forced to watch as Arahabaki approaches Piano Man, Iceman and Dazai. You watch as Klaus attacks in blind rage only to get his legs crushed to dust—he’ll be able to heal them through Mephisto (he’ll pay for it, though, he always does), but not fast enough to stop Arahabaki from getting to Dazai. Akutagawa lands the next blow, consuming the space near Arahabaki’s neck to try to land what could have been an incapacitating hit but Arahabaki is faster and Akutagawa suffers for the attempt.

Arahabaki knocks Piano Man and Iceman out of the way, its gaze set on Dazai. Dazai doesn’t even try to run, he stares at where your body is crumpled against the rubble with a wrecked expression on his face. You don’t want to watch but you can’t even bring yourself to turn your gaze away. Klaus doesn’t even wait for his other leg to heal—as soon as one has reformed, he’s throwing himself at Arahabaki again to try to protect Dazai. When Arahabaki knocks him away again, he uses his arms to propel himself forward onto its back.

As Klaus utilizes his ability to try to wrangle Arahabaki away from Dazai, desperately healing himself as gravity crushes him, you become acutely aware of a new presence at your side.

Yosano.

Familiar purple eyes stare down at you, conflicted, breath shuddered. You can’t even fathom to understand what she might be thinking and you want her to get away from you. You think it’s cruel even for the gods to have your last sight be her of all people, the same girl that Mori has held over you since the day he met her, heralding her as the perfect linchpin of his plans and disparaging you as nothing more than a failure.

“Fuck off,” you try to tell her, but the words are garbled over blood. 

“I know you hate me,” she says quietly and her words aren’t even registering in your brain, the lack of air makes your ears ring so loud that you can’t hear anything over it and you can’t make out what words her lips are forming because of the blood in your eyes. You think she knows that, but speaks anyway, “but everyday… I wonder how things might’ve been different if I’d gotten you off of Tokoyami Island with me. I couldn’t save you back then, so I will now… Whether it’s the right decision or not, I won’t let you die.”

You feel the effects of Yosano’s dreadful ability instantly, gasping as your lung stitches itself back to better, the hole through your abdomen closing up and the lost blood replenishing in your body. Your body still hurts—the soreness is there and you can feel the ghosts of the wounds, but you feel alive, forcibly pulled back from the brink of death by the last person in the world you’d ever want to save you. 

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss, shoving her away when she tries to help you to your feet. 

God, if Mori knew that Yosano of all fucking people saved your life it would just be more ammunition against you. You think you’d rather have died. Your eyes feel wet again, but this time you can’t use Arahabaki as an excuse, glaring at the other woman who looks oddly solemn at your reaction, disappointed but not surprised.

You turn your attention back to the more pressing matter, praying to god that you wouldn’t be met with the sight of Dazai’s obliterated body in the near distance. Your breath catches when you see Klaus crumpled on the ground, still alive but healing much more slowly and-

And Arahabaki approaching Dazai.

Dazai doesn’t even seem to notice, staring listlessly at the ground with a haunted expression on his face, like he doesn’t even realize death is approaching him.

 Like he doesn’t care.

“Osamu, run!” you cry out, even though you know it’s to no avail, that Arahabaki will hunt him down, but he needs to try.

Dazai’s head snaps toward you, dark eyes wide and relieved when he sees you standing there, wounds healed. But just as your gaze meets his, Arahabaki strikes, hand darting out to curl around Dazai’s thin neck with every intention of using gravity to crush it to dust. Someone screams—you, maybe, though it’s unfamiliar, shrill and piercing, more animalistic than human—and Klaus is still trying to claw his way through the dirt toward Arahabaki to no avail. Piano Man is watching the scene with a shattered arm and leg and Iceman is fumbling for one of his guns, Akutagawa is hurtling himself through the air with Rashomon, holding his bloody side as he tries to sever Arahabaki’s hand before it can follow through with Dazai’s execution.

He’s not fast enough. None of them will be.

But they don’t need to be.

You watch as a strange white and blue color emits from where Arahabaki’s hand is curled around Dazai’s neck, as the black rot recedes and the blackness of his eyes gives way to familiar brown and blue. Chuuya—not Arahabaki—falls limply to the ground, exhausted from using Corruption, and Dazai just stands there, eyes wide and confused.

What the fuck?

Piano Man. Iceman. Albatross. Klaus and Akutagawa. They all look equally perplexed as they stare at what just happened and you fumble for answers to make sense of it. Did Arahabaki exhaust itself on its own? Did it feel Chuuya’s body crumbling under the force of Corruption and instead of letting its host die, it gave control back over? It would make sense if Arahabaki was a parasite that needed Chuuya to exist, but it’s not a parasite and Chuuya is its prison.

And either way, it only happened when he touched Dazai. A light emanated between the two of them like-

Like the activation of an ability, like the reaction between two abilities.

Is… Dazai an ability user?

He can’t be, there’s no way he’s gone his whole life without ever activating it once—or even knowing he has one. It doesn’t make sense. When he asked about yours, it was clearly with the curiosity of someone who’d never encountered an ability before. Unless-

Unless he was lying.

No. He wasn’t. He must not have known, but this changes everything. 

You hardly even get the chance to play with your thoughts and come to a solid conclusion, because you realize that Yosano is storming past you in the direction of where Chuuya is unconscious and vulnerable.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you ask tightly, trying to take a step forward but wincing, so instead, you reach for the gun you’d placed back into your holster, grip firm on the handle. 

Yosano doesn’t respond to you, her hand resting on the hilt of her machete is enough of an answer for you. The threat of Lovecraft is gone and the next biggest threat to the city is none other than the vessel of the calamity god lying unconscious in the dirt—if you were her, you would also move for the execution. 

But you’re not her, so you pull out your gun and flick the safety off, not wasting any time before you drag your eyes over to where the blonde you’d spoken to before is resting on the ground with a wounded side. You lift your gun and point it at his leg, the gunshot resounding sharply through the air and causing Yosano to stop dead in her tracks, head snapping back toward you in disbelief.

Your gaze meets hers. “A nick to the femoral artery can cause a man to bleed out within thirty seconds… we learned that together, don’t you remember?”

“You-”

“The enemy is dead, we no longer have to work together. I suggest you handle your people and I’ll handle mine.”

Yosano looks frustrated, but her hesitation gave Akutagawa enough time to get between her and Chuuya. He tilts his head to the side as if daring her to try to get through him; she looks distressed as she looks between the blonde and Chuuya, but eventually rushes in your direction to get to her comrade.

She stops as she passes you and you don’t look at her, staring ahead at Dazai as she tells you tightly, “You… really have grown into someone who Mori should be proud of.”

Mori will never be proud of you, so Yosano’s words only serve to make you even more bitter. 

“And you haven’t changed at all, Akiko-chan,” you say lightly. “The same scared girl on Tokoyami Island who made the same silly mistakes over and over again. You should have let me die today, just like you shouldn’t have gotten attached to every soldier that passed you by on that island. Your sentimentality will get you killed one day.”

Yosano scoffs. “You never were quite as good at utilizing your ability as I was,” she says coldly, digging a knife into an open wound, “but you did take quickly to his cold-hearted tactics and mentality… I wonder how he feels about your new weakness.”

Your gaze snaps to the side, focusing on her. “Tread carefully,” you say coldly.

“Relax, I’m not you,” Yosano spits out. “I wouldn’t use something like that against you. I don’t need to anyway, you’ll get him killed yourself.”

You don’t have a response to that, cringing and looking away. You miss the way her expression shifts when she sees your reaction; you also miss the way her lips part to say something else, leaving her behind without another word to go over to Dazai and the others.

Klaus is shakily pushing himself to his feet by the time you get there, exhausted and covered in his own blood. You reach out to grab his hand, squeezing it gently. “You did well,” you say quietly, watching how his eyes shine at the praise before glancing over to Akutagawa. “Both of you. You did good. Thank you. I parked my car two miles north of here, go get in there and sleep, I’ll drive you back to headquarters. Go on ahead, I’ll meet you there.”

The two nod and take off in the direction you gave them; you turn your attention to Iceman, who’s gathering Chuuya in his arms. Albatross helps Piano Man limp over to the group of you.

“We’re going to bring him back to his place to rest, Doc will look over him to make sure he’s alright. Was in Corruption for longer than usual,” Iceman says roughly, looking over you once to make sure you’re okay. “We’ll… we’ll all stay with him for a bit, if he remembers what happened when he wakes up…”

“That’s probably for the best,” you say quietly. Chuuya alone with his own mind after activating Corruption is quite the dangerous thing. You try to stay with him in the aftermath, but this time, you have things to deal with first. “He shouldn’t be alone. He’ll blame himself.”

Iceman nods, making his way toward where Doc must be camped out. As Albatross and Piano Man pass you by, Piano Man squeezes your shoulder with his good hand and says, “I’ll make sure the Boss doesn’t find out about the kid just yet… figure out what happened out here though, okay?” 

“I will,” you promise, finally glancing up at Dazai, who looks like he wants nothing more than to just collapse into your arms. You think you want the same. Not yet though. Your voice softens as you address him, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Dazai sits cross-legged on your bedroom floor as he waits for you to come back from whatever meeting you had to attend as soon as you got back. He dragged your comforter off of the bed to wrap around him and he removed his clothes so he could put on a comfortable pair of sweats and a sweatshirt—yours, naturally, because he thinks if he doesn’t surround himself with your scent he might actually start to lose his mind.

He’s been teetering on the edge for hours. His eyes burn because he refuses to let them slide shut—the image of you impaled on Nakahara Chuuya’s arm is burned behind his eyelids. God, he still doesn’t really know what happened—apparently it wasn’t Chuuya from the little you were able to explain before having to leave, but instead some calamity god that uses his body as a vessel.

As insane as it sounds, Dazai somehow didn’t even doubt the words once you said them because only the power of a god could explain what he’d seen. The entire forest had been rendered to ruin in a matter of seconds, he could feel the way the air had come alive with dark, oppressive forces; he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d only ever stumbled upon an ability user once in Suribachi City before Odasaku found him and though he’d been strong—Dazai could tell that much from the way he set half of the slums on fire—it hadn’t felt anything like this. This had been… unnatural. 

It had been incredible, he’d never seen anything so… powerful before, so close to divinity—or it had been until you were killed. 

Whatever it was—Nakahara Chuuya or a calamity god called Arabahaki—it had killed you. It had killed you right in front of Dazai. It had killed you because Dazai made the wrong move and drew its attention. It killed you because you threw yourself into the line of fire to protect him and he can’t rid himself of the image. 

No matter how hard he rubs his eyes, no matter how much he tells himself that you’re alive, he can only see the blood, the hole through your abdomen, the way your body had gone limp and your eyes had become cloudy. You were dead when it tossed your body to the side like it was nothing more than trash to be discarded—or you were close to it, at least, but you were definitely dead when you hit the rubble, body broken and shattered, eyes glassy.

You were dead because of him, that’s irrefutable. It doesn’t matter how you’re alive now—and he still doesn’t know how, you clammed up when he asked you how your wounds had disappeared—because you had been dead, and you’d been dead because of him and his mistake. 

He’s hardly even had the chance to talk to you. The drive back to headquarters was quick and quiet; your two subordinates had been passed out in the backseat of your car and you’d been so lost in thought that Dazai could hardly bring himself to badger you with questions. He thought he’d get the chance when the two of you got up to your apartment, but you only sent him up on his own and told him you’d be back soon because you had to report to Mori.

It’s been seven hours since then. 

He hasn’t budged an inch, hasn't eaten anything, hasn’t drank anything, hasn’t even wiped the crusted blood off of his neck. Your crusted blood in the shape of Nakahara Chuuya’s handprint wrapped around his throat because he’d used the very same hand that killed you to try to deliver the same fate to Dazai. 

A part of him is half convinced that he imagined it—that’s why you aren’t here—and each passing second, he becomes more and more convinced of it. He imagined the fact that you’d been brought back to life after being killed and imagined that you drove him home. The reality is that your body is still split open on the rocks that Arahabaki had thrown you into, you’re still staring emptily up at the sky, blood pooling around you. It hadn’t been you to drive him and the two kids home, it had been one of the men you’d told him to stay by during the battle and he’s waiting here for them to decide what they’re going to do with him.

Dazai is alone again. 

Everything he never wants to lose is lost—irrefutable, unchangeable. 

It’s his fate. 

It’s-

“Osamu.”

He doesn’t move. His gaze flickers to the side and he sees you standing there—you’re still dressed in the clothes that you were wearing when you dragged him from the beach house. The clothes you’d died in. A plain black shirt and black pants. You hadn’t given yourself any time to change once you got the message from Chuuya. As soon as you read it, you were ushering him to the car.

Except now, there’s a hole through the shirt where Arahabaki’s fist had ripped through your body. It’s all crusty with blood, Dazai can tell even if he can’t see the murky redness. Dazai thinks that if he stares long enough, he can see the wound reappear—the way your abdomen caves in on itself, how your skin starts to tear and…

He can’t look at this. His mind playing tricks on him like this, forcing him to see this—he can’t handle it. So, he looks away, breath shaky and fingers trembling beneath the comforter.

“Osamu,” you say again, voice quiet, garbled like you’re underwater. “Osamu.”

He ignores you still—doesn’t want to give in to the cruel imagination of his mind—so he tucks his legs closer to his chest and-

And you touch him.

He feels your fingers, warm and familiar, slide against the back of his head as you turn his head to force him to face you. You don’t let him look down at where the wound had been, forcing him to look up at your face. There’s a concerned look in your eyes, but your lips are curled up in a small smile.

“What’re you doing sitting on the floor?” you ask softly. 

His lashes flutter when he feels how you card your fingers through his hair but he doesn’t respond. You’re here. Alive. With him. 

He isn’t alone. 

(Not yet.) 

Your eyes flicker down to his neck, frowning when you see the blood. “C’mon, come with me to the bathroom.”

Dazai doesn’t respond but he does rise to his feet, dragging the comforter along with him as he follows after you, only dropping it when you give it a pointed look before he walks into the bathroom after you. He drops it on the floor before stepping in, letting you guide him to the toilet, sitting him down on top of the closed seat.

You don’t say anything as you step over to the sink, running the water for a few seconds before grabbing a soft rag and soaking it beneath. You ring it once before moving to stand in front of him again, tilting his head back gently before pressing the warm, damp rag against his skin.

“I didn’t think I would be as long as I was,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d just be able to report in and then leave but he had me there for hours with some of the other executives trying to figure out how to proceed with the Guild.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, eyes sliding shut as you wipe away your crusted blood.

“He didn’t even let me change,” you say bitterly. “Think it was meant to be some sort of punishment.”

“Punishment for what?” Dazai asks, voice raspy even to his own ears.

“Failure.”

“But we won,” he frowns, a bit confused.

Your hand stills for a moment before you force yourself to continue cleaning him up, the expression on your face now a bit twisted. You seem to choose your words carefully as you tell him, “I didn’t. Not to him.”

Dazai isn’t quite sure what that means but he knows he doesn’t like the look on your face, so even though his fingers still feel a bit numb and clunky, he reaches out to grab your hand, watching as your expression immediately smoothes out, a small smile replacing the frown.

“I spoke to Piano Man,” you say lightly as you finish wiping off the blood, dropping the damp, dirty rag into the sink so you can cup his face and tilt it up toward you. “We figure that it must’ve been an ability that pulled Chuuya out of the Corrupted state. Your ability… Did you… know you had an ability?”

You ask the question hesitantly, watching him carefully for a response, and Dazai frowns, unsure why you even need to ask that because he would have told you if he had an ability and you should know that.

“No,” he finally says, brows knit together. “Of course not… what is it?” 

You don’t respond and the expression on your face is still contemplative—for a scary second, Dazai thinks that you don’t believe him, but then your expression smoothes out as you nod, putting his fears to rest. 

“We’re… not sure,” you admit. “Have you… been in situations before where you’ve been in danger?”

You cringe as you ask it like you already know the answer and Dazai gives you a flat look. 

“Yes.”

“Situations where you’ve been in contact with the person making you feel threatened?” you prod further and Dazai’s lips curl down into a frown, eyes lowering as he remembers the months he spent in Suribachi and the years after Odasaku’s death.

“Yes.”

“We theorized maybe it could’ve been your ability triggering as a defense mechanism—that maybe you had a similar ability to mine in that you could make people unconscious,” you say, leaning against the sink to look down at where he’s sitting. You tilt your head to the side and Dazai distinctly feels like a specimen being studied by a scientist. “But if that was the case, it likely would have triggered already and you would’ve known about it.”

“I didn’t know,” he says again like he has something to prove. Your expression doesn’t shift, an unreadable look in your eyes as you stare down at him. “I didn’t.”

Dazai doesn’t know why he’s getting so defensive about it, he knows that it’s probably only serving to make you more suspicious. He thinks it’s because he’s upset that you even need to ask that, it’s bothering him more than it should.

“Okay,” you say to placate him. “I have my own theory but…”

Dazai leans forward. “What is it?”

You look conflicted, brows knitting together and then you look away like you don’t even want to answer him, so he tilts to the side to force himself back into your line of vision again. You sigh heavily as your gaze drifts back to him. 

“I’m going to try to use my ability on you,” you tell him but your voice wavers and you look pained just by the prospect of it. Dazai’s eyes widen, remembering how angry you’d gotten when he first brought it up to you. “Just to… test something. Okay?” 

Dazai nods eagerly, eyes wide and imploring—he thinks that he shouldn’t feel so excited by this when you’re clearly conflicted and unhappy about it but… it’s not even a matter of an ability being used on him in a non-aggressive manner, it’s more just…

It’s a part of you. It’s a part of you that Dazai has never experienced before and he wants to experience all parts of you. Everything. Anything. No matter what it is as long as it’s you.

You reach out to brush your fingers against his cheek and Dazai waits with his heart in his throat and excitement thrumming through his body, pushing away all of the numbness. He looks up at you as he braces himself for something to happen and only begins to wonder if something is wrong when he sees how you tilt your head to the side curiously.

“What do you feel?” you finally ask him.

Dazai blinks and then says, “Excited?”

Your brows furrow. You wait a few moments before questioning, “And now?”

Dazai stares at you. “Nothing has changed.”

Your hand drops from his face and Dazai is pouting immediately, eyes following it as you rest it against your lap. His lips part to protest but before he can say anything, you press: “And now?” 

“Nothing has changed,” Dazai says, mind racing as he slowly puts together what your theory is: that no ability can affect him, and the reason why Arahabaki put to sleep after it came in contact with Dazai was because it couldn’t exist while in contact with him. “Wait, are you…?” 

“You nullify abilities,” you breathe out. “You… And not just by touch… it seems like any ability—around you? Or maybe if it just targets you?—it just like… gets sucked up into a black hole. Non-existent.”

Dazai feels a bit giddy as he looks at you. “I have an ability.”

You don’t even seem to register his words, staring at him with an expression so wrecked that Dazai is startled, thinking he did something to upset you. He’s about to ask when you speak again, voice sounding a bit distant as you say, “You’ve never been affected by my ability.”

And Dazai remembers. He remembers why you’d been so upset when he asked you to use your ability on him. Remembers how your face had started to crumble, the insecurity that had swept across it: I don’t know who wants to be around me for me and who’s just influenced by my ability.

“I told you,” Dazai says with a teasing smile, “I want you for you.”

“You do,” you agree, taking in a deep breath as you look down at your lap, lips curling up into a small smile that Dazai wishes would remain on your face forever. You look so at peace, so happy—and because of him. “You might be the only one.”

You say the words lightly but Dazai can feel the weight of them, so he reaches out to take your hands into his, squeezing them gently. “I doubt that,” he says, “but even if I am, I’ll love you enough that it won’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

Your eyes widen. Dazai immediately draws back and slaps his hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just admitted out loud. He can feel the heat emanating from his cheeks and he’s sure that he’s probably as red as a tomato. He almost wants to bolt but before he can, your smile softens around the edges and you reach out to cup his cheek again, the look in your eyes so adoring that it makes Dazai’s breath catch in the back of his throat.

“I love you too,” you tell him quietly, and it’s with more emotion than when you told him last night—god, it’s hardly been twenty-four hours, all of this has happened within twenty-four hours. 

Dazai is suddenly acutely reminded of the fact that he’d almost lost you within those twenty-four hours and his chest feels much heavier. He wonders if you were abruptly reminded of the same thing because your nails dig into his cheek enough to sting, the look in your eyes more intense.

“Can we watch a movie?” he asks, voice wobbling as he holds your free hand between his so tightly that he fears he might break it. 

He wants to lay with you, wants to curl up in your arms and pretend he’s watching a movie that he doesn’t care for just so he can bask in the feeling of being loved and pretend he didn't just almost lose you.

“We can watch a movie,” you agree. “Let me go get changed. What are you feeling?” 

You take a step away from him and Dazai almost reaches out for you but refrains. “Horror?” he asks, if only because he likes to hide his face in your chest under the pretense of being scared.

You give him a side-eye over your shoulder as you walk into your bedroom and he promptly gives you a sweet smile, knowing that you know exactly why he picked the genre. You only roll your eyes and leave the bathroom and he sighs as he sits back against the toilet, a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

A warm feeling that is very quickly pushed away when his phone buzzes.

Professor Ui: Can you stop by the school with Koda-san and Otsuka-kun tomorrow? We received a tip-off concerning the exposé we were working on a few weeks ago. I want to run something by the three of you because we might just have the chance to drive the nail in the coffin.

His throat swells as his gaze flickers up to where you’re changing into a clean pair of pajamas and fixing the comforter that he’d pulled off of your bed, rattling off a few options for him to choose from—all going in one ear, out the other. His knuckles are white around his phone before he fumbles to stuff it in the pocket of his sweats. 

He just wants one night with you after everything that happened today and… he remembers the look on your face when you mentioned ‘punishment’ and ‘failure’, and he thinks that you deserve just one night of peace too. 

A night of peace that isn’t interrupted by another shitty text.

He’ll bring it up to you tomorrow or… or maybe he’ll handle it on his own. Go to the meeting, figure out what they’ve been tipped off about so he can report back to you… and then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be a liability to you anymore. He could do something to help you and… it’s not like he has to be as worried about danger considering the newfound revelation about his ability. Obviously, there are still other dangers but…

But Dazai could be helpful. Useful. He’s only been a hindrance to you up until now, but he could change that.

He could change it. And maybe—just maybe—if he could learn how to use his ability and you could rely on him for more things… Maybe there’s a chance he could change the fate he thought was inevitable. Maybe he wouldn’t lose you. You love him, so you won’t leave him, and he would be strong enough this time to make sure you wouldn’t be taken from him in the same way Odasaku was. 

Things would be different. 

He would be different. 

“Are you coming?” you call as you pull on a sweatshirt and peek your head back into the bathroom.

“Coming,” he agrees, bounding out of the bathroom and tossing himself right on top of you as you rest against the pillows, curling into your side and waiting for you to start the movie.

One night of peace. It couldn’t be too much for him to ask.

He tries to ignore the ghost weight of the gun in his hand as his arms tighten around you. 

[texasbama]

I know we talk about this all the time but Buck and Eddie in 801 is truly a testament to just how beautiful and strong their relationship is. and we know this right? since Eddie's introduction in season 2, they have been friends and we have seen it grow since then. Those two are partners in every sense. But in 801 specifically, they were so best friend coded and it was so fun to watch. Buck is frustrated about Gerrard? Eddie is the one of the voices of reason. Buck is there with his party hat on, hanging up streamers at Eddie's house so that they can try an celebrate Chris's birthday. Buck has ideas to help with the bee situations? Eddie is game. He is right by Buck's side. He trusts Buck implicitly(and vice versa) so of course he'll sign up to be chased by thousands of bees! why not! They can be silly together. They can be vulnerable with each other. They protect each other. Whether you view the pair as platonic or romantic, this show has made it clear that those two are meant to walk through life together. and my GOD that is so beautiful.

[sirfrogsworth]

sirfrogsworth please i am begging to know your boomer uncle’s thought process when he installed all those spam search bars what on earth was he TRUING to do

This was my Uncle Larry. He died in 2014 from a lifetime of smoking.

But while he was alive, he was what my grandma would refer to as "a character."

I feel like seeing his photo gives a partial explanation of the toolbar fiasco.

He was a man stuck in the 1960s but extremely curious about new things.

It was the early 2000s and I was trying to make some extra money. So when he was interested in getting a computer I offered to build him one from scratch.

What I didn't consider about this arrangement was that I was basically signing up to be my uncle's IT person. If something went wrong, it could possibly be due to a mistake I made.

He called me up complaining he couldn't see his websites and that the computer was running slower than normal.

I boot up his system and it takes 10 minutes to get to Windows. The desktop was filled with random programs he installed. And when I opened his web browser I was immediately greeted with a dozen pop up advertisements. Once I nuked them all, all of the different search toolbars were revealed. There was maybe a few inches of space for viewing websites and he had just been looking at photos a segment at a time for weeks before wondering if maybe it wasn't supposed to work like that.

I asked him why he installed all of this crap and he told me he didn't realize he had a choice. He just thought you had to say yes to everything that popped up on the screen. He also opened every spam email he received.

To make matters even worse, when he was searching for lewd pictures of Catherine Bell (aka the "JAG lady" with nice cans), he ended up on various softcore porn sites containing ever more dangerous pop up ads. And he clicked on all of those as well.

He loved the internet. It was a wonderland for such a curious person. He loved typing in random things and just reading and looking at pictures for hours. Aside from Maxim photos of TV celebrities, his searches were pretty innocent. He looked at old cars he used to own and lawnmowers he wanted to buy. He read old war stories and found websites helping him learn how to whittle walking sticks.

But he had no sense of danger. He had a Leroy Jenkins approach to life. He just sort of jumped into whatever without any fear or caution. Which is probably why my parents were so pissed at him when he offered 8 year-old me a ride on his new motorcycle. He immediately took me off-road and up a steep hill without a helmet or telling me to hold on. And it was a Harley, so not really meant for that terrain.

I tried a virus scan and it just said "You have every virus." So I had to nuke his Windows install from orbit. I then gave him computer lessons, which he paid me for, so that sort of worked out despite how frustrating it was to keep him from clicking on random things.

Uncle Larry taught me an important lesson.

Never tell your family you know about computers.

[storiesfromafan]

Catching Feelings - Mattheo x Reader

A/N: not sure how I feel about this one, but I decided to post it anyways haha.

Prompt: “What part of I want you, and only you, do you not understand?” “And what part of why would you? Don’t you not understand?”

It had started out a casual hook up. Snog in a deserted hallway. Some over the clothing petting in the dungeons. Sneaking around in the Astronomy Tower for some no pants fun. It was great for you and Mattheo. The thrills and fun without the attachments a relationship entailed.

Well it had been great. Until Mattheo started to act weird, both with his words and wanting more time with you. Even when no pants time seemed to take a while to get too. He would make small talk, while you were the one to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt. And when he grasped your hands, halting what you were wanting to get too. That was it.

“Forget it" you sighed in frustration, grabbing your discarded cardigan before taking off back to the Slytherin common room.

He called out to stop you, tried to persuade you to stay. But it was no use, you were gone. And Mattheo sat there frustrated in more ways than one. For he physically wanted you, the evidence in his pants making it obvious. But he was also emotionally attached to you. Wanting to be around you, talk to you, hold you, kiss you. The guy was enthralled with you, bewitched mind and body. He wasn't quiet at soul, but part of him thought you were kindred spirits.

The following few days you avoided him. Keeping to yourself and always with a friend. And that was pissing Mattheo off. No to mention having this time to think clearly, Mattheo realised that what had been fun, looks to have turned into him liking you. And he now wasn't just mad with you, but also himself. For Mattheo Riddle doesn't catch feelings. He isn't meant to be a one girl kind of guy. Yet, he was willing to try it with you.

Getting a chance, though a sliver of one, you had just walked out of the female's lavatory. Grabbing your arm, Mattheo dragged you into a deserted hall, away from anyone or any noise. Once it sunk in to who had grabbed you, you yanked your arm from their hold.

“What the Hell Mattheo!?” You whispered yelled, glaring daggers at the male before you.

The male in questioned, did his best to look unfazed. Yet wondered if you had felt the sweat on his hands, or hear how his heart was racing. Could you see through his act? For he felt there were chips in the mask on his face.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He asked with as flat a voice he could.

You looked at him for a moment, before sighing and crossing your arms over your chest. “Really? This is why you kidnapped me".

“I didn't kidnap you. I dragged you. You're free to leave anytime" he retorted with a soft glare.

“Fine" was all you said, moving to walk back the way you had come.

With two steps Mattheo moved to block you. Sputtering out a bunch of words that even he didn’t understand. But after he took a second to un-jumble his thoughts. Mattheo explained that he had only wanted to talk, and give him five minutes. You mulled it out before saying, alright I'll give you five minutes.

“Why have you been avoiding me (Y/N/N)? I waited in the Astronomy Tower the other night, but you didn't show up...” the last part came out a little whiny, which made Mattheo cringe.

Again you sighed. “I don't know...maybe I thought you'd want to talk" you replied dropping your bag on a bench, looking over the bust of some old witch.

“What's so wrong with talking...?” Mattheo asked quietly.

You shot him a are you serious look. “I thought this" – you gestured between you both – “was casual. In other words, no talking or attachment".

Mattheo straightened up, “well...ah, yeah?”

“Really?” You stared him down, not buying his words.

Mattheo sighed. He couldn't deny it further, could he?

“Look Mattheo, it's best we end it here. Cut our losses, yeah?” You finally said, voice void of emotion.

You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. You walked past him and patted him on the back. Sharing some last parting words with the Slytherin male. When you were done, and no response from Mattheo, you began to head back to the populated halls.

As if being struck by lightening, Mattheo shot around, eyes wide watching your retreating form. “I like you!” He blurted out.

You paused, about to round the corner. You stood there for a minute, which had Mattheo thinking you may not have heard him. Finally you slowly turned around, eyes drawn together in confusion. Slowly you moved back to him, yet kept some distance between you both.

“Come again?” You finally croaked out.

Mattheo fidgeted from foot too foot, gaze looking anywhere but at you. He felt like a child that was in trouble. “I said...I like you...”

Slowly you nodded. “That's what I thought you said", you paused for a moment to think over your next lot of words carefully. “Look, Mattheo...I'm not the girl for you. I am uncaring, mouthy and too smart for the good of anyone”.

“That's fine with me" he replied quickly, staring you in the eyes.

You sighed. “Why would you? You can do better then me".

And with that you turned and began to walk off once more. Again Mattheo called out to you, sputtering out for you to stop or wait, and other things. But this time you didn't let up. Which lead to Mattheo being hot on your heels. Thankfully no students were around, but you could hear them in the distance.

“What part of I want you, and only you, do you not understand?” Mattheo called, anger rising when his attempts to get you to talk to him failed.

Finally you stopped, turning around to glare at the male. “And what part of why would you? Don’t you not understand?” was your retort.

The sound that came out of Mattheo's mouth was a cross between a cry of frustration and anguish of pain. Gripping his hair, he noted how you were so frustrating. Why wouldn’t you want him? Was there someone else you wanted to be with? If so, who, so he could take care of them. Was he ugly? Both physically and personality wise? His mind was swimming with questions.

“Mattheo...” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “This, you and me wouldn't work. And you know that. We're too different. Let's just...let it be".

When you got no response from Mattheo, you took that as your cue to leave. And off you went. While Mattheo stood there. Crushed, but determined. Determined to win you over. He believe part of you had to feel the same, or partially at least. Maybe you were scared, he liked to tell himself. Yes, that's what he was going with. And he would get you. No matter what or the cost.

[eternalsunrise]

study date

lsu! joe burrow x fem! reader

wc: 1.7k

tags! established relationship, make out sesh, no actual smut, jus a couple of horny college kids in love with each other, vomit inducing fluff

notes! brainrot so bad i had to start writing fics. hope the joe burrow community finds this well 🧘‍♀️ expect more for joe coming! xoxo

letters on a keyboard clicking and a pencil scrawling across paper are the only sounds that reverberate around the room. you started off sitting up straight, but as time progressed you’re basically lying down, laptop perched on your lap.

the pillows are plush underneath you, and your boyfriend’s scent is enveloping you. there’s something about joe’s bed that always feels 10 times more comfortable than your own.

if you closed your eyes you could probably doze off for a mid afternoon nap.

you hear the sound of someone shifting above the covers, but you don’t turn your head to look, too preoccupied with your essay that’s due in the morning.

you feel a kiss press against your cheek, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “hi joey. you doing okay?”

another kiss against your cheek, followed by an overdramatic sigh, “yeah, just really hard to focus on statistics with something so distracting in my bed.”

joe’s closer now, a hand playing with your hair as he peppers kisses down your jawline.

you roll your eyes at his antics, knowing exactly how this was going to go. “oh i’m the distracting one?” you question, your tone sarcastic.

he moves his hand to your cheek, tilting your head to the left to face him. his blue eyes bore into yours and you realize why you’d avoided looking at him. it’s much easier to stay on task without his handsome face in view.

joe leans down to place a slow peck on your lips, “a very.” peck. “very.” peck. “pretty distraction.”

he pulls away from you entirely, smirking when you try and chase his lips. this is exactly why you wanted to study alone. as much as you loved your boyfriend, how are you expected to get anything done with a gorgeous quarterback all over you? but the two of you have barely seen each other these past few weeks, and joe insisted on you both doing schoolwork together before his practice later that day.

“joe. baby. we’re supposed to be studying.” your voice is pleading, begging for any sort of mercy. he caresses your cheek bone with his thumb, a smirk sitting on the side of his mouth. “i am studying.” he uses a tone that tells you he wants you to ask what his punchline is. you bite.

“and what are you studying exactly, joseph?”

he trails his hand down your body until it rests on your waist, just above where your hands and laptop sit. he lets his eyes trail down and back up, bright blues staring at you while he licks his lips, “anatomy.”

you let out a laugh for his sake, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from your body, “you’re impossible!” you place a quick kiss on his lips, standing up and taking your laptop.

joe groans loudly, falling back against the pillows on his bed, “where are you going?”

you carry your work to his wooden, student-issued desk, setting your laptop down and taking a seat. “you’re going to stay there. and i’m going to stay here. we both need to get work done and it’s hard to do that when you’re being…well you!” you try to sound frustrated, but you both know better.

joe being the cocky bastard he is, just gives you a knowing smile. the effect he has on you just strokes his ego (as if anyone else needed to). he decides to leave you be for the time being. he picks his pencil back up and holds his hands up in faux innocence, “yes ma’am. whatever you need.”

you turn back to your essay, typing your third page, smiling when the framed picture of you two displayed on his desk appears in your peripheral vision. if you looked around, your presence is covering this room. his whole apartment in fact. sure, you may be putty in his hands. but you have joe burrow pretty much wrapped around your finger.

after about 20 minutes of both of you working diligently in silence, you hear joe clear his throat.

“hey pretty?”

“mhm?” you reply, clicking back and forth between your class notes and your paper.

“didn’t you say you took this class last year?” joe asks, deep voice like velvet when it hits your ears.

you pause your task and turn around in your chair, “yeah i did for a semester, why?” he looks absolutely delicious. he’s sporting a cozy lsu hoodie and nike gym shorts that reach barely mid thigh, his trademark array of bracelets decorate his wrists. the way one of this legs is raised make his shorts ride up, giving you a peek at his black briefs. you suddenly wonder if the essay is even that important.

“wanna come check this for me? make sure i did it right?” he taps his pencil a couple of times and holds out his notebook toward you. there’s no flirtation intent behind joe’s question, he just values your insight. and for some reason, that just turns you on even more. he’s won. he’s getting what he wanted without even trying.

you stand up from your seat and make your way over to him, taking the notebook from his hand. he looks up at you in silence, waiting for you to check his work. but instead you toss the notebook to the side. it makes a slight thud when it hits the hardwood.

joe opens his mouth to question your actions but you’re on the bed with him in a matter of seconds. you swing your leg over his hip and straddle his lap, legs resting on either side of him. his hands are on you immediately, per instinct, large hands engulfing your thighs. it takes him a moment to process your actions but he sobers up quickly, cocky and confident, “aw, who knew stats could get you so worked up?”

you want to knock that stupid smirk off of his face. you also never want it to go away.

“shut up.” followed by a feverish kiss full of want and desire. the lack of each other for weeks has stretched the rubber band of tension to a hilt, and you finally let it snap. your fingers thread through his wavy hair at the nape of his neck, tugging just a bit. he’s due for a haircut soon. a noise rattles up from his throat, your reaction immediate. your hips grind down, begging for some friction. he gladly provides, guiding your waist back and forth.

the next moments are full of tongue kisses and heavy breathing. “next time we—“ gasp. “study together, we’re doing it in public–ow!” joe bites your lip, an apology vibrates against your lip, you know he doesn’t mean it. “like the library.” joe grips your hips and flips the two of you over with ease. you yelp in surprise, now looking up at him.

joe scoffs at your words, “like that’s ever stopped us before.” he reconnects your lips, a new sense of urgency found in this kiss. he props himself up with an elbow next to your head. your leg finds itself hooking around his waist, forcing him impossibly closer to you. he breaks away for air, hand dragging up and down your lifted thigh. he leaves goosebumps in his wake.

he looks down between your bodies and watches as your hips lift to meet his own, adam’s apple bobbing. his eyes flick back to yours, a familiar darkness clouding the ocean. his kisses follow a trail down your jaw, “god baby, you drive me crazy.” he purrs in your ear, lips attacking your neck. you aren’t sure how he can say that, when you’re the one that feels dizzy under his touch. your hand finds his hair again, letting out fits of giggles when his mouth grazes your most sensitive spots.

you tilt your head to the side, catching sight of the time on your phone screen as it lit up on the nightstand. you let out a gasp, partly because of joe shifting his hand between your thighs, but mostly because it was almost time for, “joe. practice.”

he returns his attention to your lips, “5 more minutes, all i need.” he murmurs, capturing you in a kiss that’s hard to turn away from. you feel his hand slip under the waist band of your pants, and as much as you dread this ending; you know what you need to do.

“joey. babe, hey.” you use your grip on his hair to pull him away. the love drunk look on his face makes this even harder. “listen. as much as i want to, we can’t. you love to be unreasonably early, and coach o will track me down himself if i’m the reason his star isn’t there for pre, pre warmups.”

joe chuckles and nods his head, reluctantly removing his hands from you entirely; it’s as if you’re magnets, if he isn’t across the room you’ll gravitate back together. he stands and starts to get ready for the one thing you’re forced to share the title of joe’s first love with, football.

you start to stand to get ready to go home, but joe quickly faces you and shakes his head, black backpack and cleats in his hands.

“no no no stay. here.” he throws his backpack over his shoulder and uses his free hand to dig in his pocket. he pulls out his purple lanyard, plucking his apartment key from the carabiner.

joe places it in your hand and folds your fingers over it.

“here, i’m gonna have you one made anyway. go back to your dorm, grab some stuff. you can order dinner, finish your homework here. i’ll be back in a couple hours and i’ll take you to that froyo shop down the street and then we can…finish what we started.” joe says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. he punctuates his words with a sweet kiss on your lips, another on your forehead, “bye pretty. love you.”

you stare at him in awe, “love you. have fun!”

he winks at you before he walks out of the front door.

you sit there on the edge of the bed, staring down at the shiny key in your palm. you’re shocked at how he can make such a big relationship step seem so nonchalant. he’d obviously been thinking about this for a while, you being around more. in his space.

you flop down on your back, kicking your feet with a giddy smile. if you weren’t alone you’d be embarrassed.

looks like you’ll be studying here a lot more often.

[anniebeemine]

okay, big brown eyes, whatever you say- s.r. x reader

“Why don’t you ever argue with me?”

The question catches you off guard. You glance at Spencer, who’s standing there, awaiting your answer, his brow slightly furrowed as if he’s been pondering this for a while. You blink a few times, shrugging casually as you settle back against the couch.

“There’s nothing to argue about,” you say, the words coming out simple, matter-of-fact.

But Spencer doesn’t like your response. You can see it in the way his shoulders tense and the way his lips press into a thin line. He crosses his arms, his eyes shifting away from you and toward the floor as he runs a hand through his hair.

“I know you hate it when I leave my socks everywhere,” he says, his voice quieter but insistent. “And when I leave the dishes next to the sink instead of in it. I see you tense up when I do it, but you never say anything. Why don’t you just tell me?”

You’re trying to stay engaged in the conversation, but your focus begins to drift. The way the sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow on Spencer, draws your attention. His face is lit up in such a way that it highlights the specks of hazel in his eyes, the soft planes of his cheekbones, and the curve of his lips as he speaks.

He looks so beautiful when he talks, even when he's frustrated. There’s something about the way he’s so earnest, so concerned about something as mundane as socks and dishes that makes you smile. You love how much he cares, even when it’s over the little things.

Before you know it, you're smiling at him without even realizing it.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Spencer’s voice breaks through your thoughts, snapping you back to the conversation.

Your gaze shifts back to his face, and you realize you’ve completely drifted off into your own world.

“I, uh,” you stammer, feeling your cheeks flush slightly, “I wasn’t... I mean, I was listening, but...”

“But you’re smiling,” he says, confused but amused, his frustration beginning to soften. He raises an eyebrow, leaning in a bit closer. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You bite your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. “I was just... I don’t know, I was thinking about how much I love you. You’re standing there all serious, trying to figure out why I don’t argue with you about socks and dishes, and I just... I love that you care about that. And I got distracted by how good you look in the sunlight.”

Spencer’s expression softens even more, a small, lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He shakes his head slightly, but there’s a warmth in his eyes now. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I know,” you reply with a grin, feeling the tension from the conversation melt away.

“But seriously,” he says, his tone gentler now as he sits down beside you. “You can tell me when something bothers you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold it all in just because you don’t want to argue.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “I know. And I promise I’ll try to be better about that. But sometimes... it’s not worth arguing over. I just enjoy being with you, and the little things don’t matter as much when I think about how much you mean to me.”

Spencer wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Well, if that’s the reason, I guess I can live with a few unspoken complaints about my socks.”

You chuckle softly. “Just a few.”

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine this tho:

Logan finding your journal full of things about him

found gif on @darlinggash

The moment you and Logan met the two of you clicked in an unusual way. Immediately getting on each other's nerves but having the same sense of humor. You both got grumpy and violent at times. The two of you started training together and growing as friends. There was no way in your brain that he saw you as anymore and as time passed fate proved you right.

But that didn't mean you didn't have feelings for him. Because you fell in love with Logan pretty quickly. The only reason why you were able to hide it is because you wrote about it. You wrote in detail about your feelings for him, instead of shoving them down or acting like a bumbling idiot. You trusted Logan and you were very comfortable around him. You didn't want that to change because of your feelings for him.

Logan just didn't think you felt the same way he felt that he didn't have a chance with you. That you deserved someone better than him, but he also didn't like to imagine you with anyone but him. Because he never thought he would find love. He didn't think he would find it in you but one day he just looked at you differently. He started noticing how beautiful you were, something he knew from the beginning. But it was starting to get hard to not say anything, to not kiss you. He didn't know if he could be your friend anymore.

Though he couldn't tell if you felt the same way, not until he found your notebook. Walking to your room, bringing his knuckles up to gentle rap against the open door. The door creaking open to reveal your empty room, your music playing from your speaker on your desk. A smile came over Logan's face as he stepped closer, one of Logan's favorite songs flowing through the speakers. Glancing down at the notebook on your desk in an almost bashful way as the apple of his cheeks rose. Then his eyes slightly squinted when seeing his name on the page, before moving in closer.

I feel guilty for the way I feel, I know I'm told to not be, that having feelings for a friend isn't usual. That it didn't mean have to mean anything, because there was no way he could feel the same way. He smelt like leather and tobacco, his musk filling my senses whenever he was around. Or when he touched me, that's when I felt really bad. Because I liked it for more than he knew, I didn't like being touched but I wanted this man to keep his hands on me all day. The idea was comforting, and the thought of his large muscular hands put on your body even if it was just your arm or your shoulder. You'd always lean into his touch, desperate for more. You told yourself you wouldn't get worked up, that you just be friends. But you didn't want to be his friend and it was getting harder to ignore.

Logan felt his stomach flip, swallowing down the lump in his stomach as he read something so private. Something intimate that you wrote about...someone who sounded a whole lot like him. He wasn't sure, but he knew you didn't have alot of other male friends. That he religiously wore his leather jacket even in 90-degree weather and smoked cigars like a chimney. You had sure that it had to be doing some type of damage at the rate he smoked. But talking about how made you wanted this guy to touch you, when you didn't like touch, something you warned him about in the beginning. Logan tried to respect it, but you never moved away like you did with others, you'd visibly flinch away when you didn't like it.

He leant down to keep reading from your notebook;

Last night, we stayed up late together, he'd been drinking but regardless he was still Logan. He frustrated you with because of a random that you blabbed about. Always trying to pick on you and pretend to be agitated, you hoped anyway. You always tried not to blush around him, but last night it just happened. You really hoped he didn't notice. Its why you couldn't look into his eyes, you were getting far too attached for just friends.

It was him. Logan turned the page in the notebook to continue to read.

Spending all this time with him is making me think about him subconsciously. His mossy green eyes worming their way into your dreams, fantasizing about your fingers in his hair, his hips thrusting into yours. You didn't know what he looked like down there but you knew what he looked like shirtless. God, you wanted to feel him. You felt so creepy dreaming and writing about this. But it was what happened in your dream, and it didn't help that you were in love with him.

Fuck. He really shouldn't be reading this right now. But before he could read anymore, the door creaked open and you smiled over at him, "Hey, Lo." His eyes went to your tiny little shorts you were wearing, god all of this was driving him insane. Logan couldn't let this slide though, he just had to tease you, wanted to see that blush he'd evidently missed the other night. He blamed the dim lightly, but the sun was shining bright through the window. Your eyes going to his hand that laid on the page of your journal, without him even saying a word a flush bloomed on your cheeks.

"You've been writing about me, mouse." Logan stated, he didn't even have to question it. He also made fun of your voice, when you get worked up your started to squeak a little your voice getting high pitched. His fingers dance along the lines and scribbles on the paper, circling his digit around his name.

"I-I can explain." You mumbled, your hands coming up to feign innocence.

"I think this did all the explaining I need." Logan continued, he dipped his down to read from the book, "I think I need to move on from him, but he was your best friend, and he was perfect. You think I'm perfect?" He teased as you darted towards the journal as he yanked it away from the table before bringing it up over his head. You let out a squeak as you jumped, the sound and action making him laugh at your height difference. You lightly shoved at Logan's buff chest, as he barely moved an inch as you hit at his arm.

"Give it back!" You cried, as you glared into his eyes. The look on your face warmed his heart as he shoved the journal far away from you. "H-how do you know it's about you?" Logan smiled at you, the lines on his face crinkling as he made eye contact with you before looking up at the book.

"The other day Logan stopped me from falling, and my hands gripped his bicep, I could the ridges and veins, god you were just crazy for him."

"Logan." You whined, before flipped the book shut before leaning down to hand it back to you. You snatched it from his grip, bringing it to his chest.

"Wanna know my favorite part, got it memorized, liked it so much." Logan hummed, as he stepped closer to your retreating form. You felt like prey, Logan the predator swirling in you, his eyes were dark and his steps purposeful. "His mossy green eyes worming their way into your dreams, fantas-."

"Logan pleasse stop." You pleaded, your doe eyes looking up at his as you fell back against the door as it shut behind you. Logan's hand coming over your head as he leant into you.

"-fantasizing about your fingers in his hair, his hips thrusting into yours." Logan's voice grew darker as he dipped his head into your neck, the hot air emitting from his mouth fanning over your skin. Making you shiver as one of his hands fell to your waist as his eyes dipped to meet yours. "How long have you been writing about me?"

"When did we meet?" You retorted, a anxious giggle falling from your mouth as your eyes darting away from his in shyness. Logan sighed out, his nose meeting the side of your cheekbone the scruff his beard threading to rub against your jaw.

"Well I'd like to make your fantasies come true." Logan grumbled into your ear as goosebumps rose across your neck. Your hand fell to his waist as you moved in closer to him.

"Please do." You panted, throwing caution to the wind with Logan so close and looking at you like that.

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

[toruskiii]

The Kiss Economy!

Synopsis: What's a more charming way to trade things than using kisses as currency? Genre: Fluff Character: Veritas Ratio x Gn!reader Warnings: Smooches, established relationship, both you and Ratio are teachers! Maybe a little ooc [masterlist] [about me]

Ratio sighed, running a hand through his hair as he paced the halls of the space station. Sometimes, he simply couldn't stand the reckless fools who were his students. It hadn't even been half a day, yet there was already so much to do— or more precisely, so much to clean up.

His classes ranged from young, aspiring teens to adults, who, in his mind, should be capable enough to handle equipment properly and behave responsibly in his absence.

But no.

The moment he stepped into the laboratory, his eyes fell upon a scene of chaos. Panicked students darted about, glass shards littered the floor, and expensive apparatus lay broken in the sink. Imbeciles, he thought with a mix of frustration and disappointment. Why did they always have to prove him wrong about their competence?

Now, he found himself troubled with seeking out you— another teacher who happened to be his dear beloved. He wasn't one to shy away from ranting about the incompetence of his students in private, often grumbling about how he wished his students were more like yours. After all, you never seemed to complain much about your own classes.

His perspective shifted, however, when he knocked on the door of your class and swung it open, only to be greeted by an expression of dread on your face—an expression he found somewhat amusing.

"Hm? You look distressed. Care to explain?" he pointed out, observing as you hunched over the lab sink, your expression deadpan as you glanced back at him.

"Veritas," you whined, facepalming yourself with a groan. "One of my students accidentally disposed of the platinum black powder while clearing out the empty containers." You could feel his stare, his raised eyebrow silently questioning how your students could mess up this badly.

"I think Herta is going to kill me when I report this to her," you added with a fake sob, walking over to him and tugging on his shirt for comfort. He let out a huff, shaking his head and ruffling your hair in a gesture of reassurance. "Just report it to Asta, she'll help you deal with it."

"Do you know how much that powder costs?!"

"Of course I do. But do you think this will make a dent in any of their accounts?"

"...Ah."

You let out a pout, smoothing your hair before directing a confused gaze at him. "Anyways, why did you come to look for me?" you questioned, genuinely curious. It was a rare occurrence for him to seek you out during work hours; he usually adhered strictly to his schedule and dismissed any potential distractions. A mischievous grin spread across your face as you continued, crossing your arms playfully. "Orrrr…did you miss me? Hmmm?"

He scoffed, flicking your forehead lightly as you yelped in surprise. "Don't be foolish," he retorted, but there was a faint hint of amusement in his eyes. "I came to ask if I could borrow some equipment from your lab."

"Equipment? Why? Don't you have everything you need already?" you asked, rubbing your forehead in mild exasperation as you watched him rummage through the cabinets in your classroom. "Those idiots managed to break almost half of everything in the lab, including several crucial apparatuses," Ratio grunted, rubbing his temple in frustration. You couldn't help but silently pray for his students, who would soon face his wrath upon his return to the lab.

Shrugging, you gave him a nod of confirmation to rummage through your cabinets for whatever he needed. "Yeah, go ahead. My class won't really be needing anything today anyways."

As he finished grabbing the necessary items, he paused when he felt another tug at his shirt. Turning around, he looked at you with a puzzled expression, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes— he knew that look all too well. "What is it?" he inquired cautiously.

You grinned cheekily at him, chuckling softly. "Just because I'm allowing you to borrow my stuff, doesn't mean I'm giving it to you for free."

He frowned, genuinely puzzled as to what you could possibly want in return. If you were anyone else, he might have already told you off and demanded you keep your hands to yourself. But you were his dear significant other, so he decided to play along. "Do tell me what it is that you want."

You hummed thoughtfully, continuing to fiddle with the purple fabric draped over his shoulder. "Hmm… I don't know. Why don't you take a guess?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "It's something you forgot this morning," you added cryptically.

He stared at you with an unreadable expression, his mind working to decipher your words. "Something I forgot?" he muttered to himself, setting the basket of apparatus onto the table before narrowing his eyes at you. "I'd appreciate it if you'd get straight to the point, my dear," he said, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone.

With a sigh, you raised a finger and tapped it against your pouty lips, gazing at him with a mock frown.

Ratio paused, his mind working through the puzzle until the realization finally dawned on him. Ah, so that's what you were huffing about.

How childish.

"You want a kiss? Is that it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, half-amused and half-exasperated.

When you finally nodded with a triumphant smirk, Ratio felt his shoulders relax, shaking his head in quiet amusement. The corner of his lips twitched as if fighting the urge to curl into a smirk at your foolishness. "You're so childish, my love," he murmured, his voice soft but teasing.

He leaned in closer, his arms slipping around your waist, pulling you gently toward him. His other hand came up, fingers brushing your chin as he tipped your face upward.

You couldn’t help but smile giddily, heart fluttering in anticipation. And then, with a warmth that melted every teasing remark, his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It was gentle, affectionate— everything you had wanted.

He pulled away, a soft blush dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears, though he tried to maintain his composure. His thumb brushed teasingly against your bottom lip, causing you to meet his gaze with playful mischief in your eyes.

"That's it?"

He blinked, confusion flickering in his expression. "What do you mean 'that's it'?" he scoffed, gently pinching your cheeks in mild exasperation. "I gave you what you wanted— what else is there?"

You pouted dramatically, crossing your arms. "You took so many of my apparatus and other equipment. You think one kiss is gonna be enough? Scam!"

Ratio’s eyes widened for a moment before he let out a low chuckle, realizing you weren’t going to let him off the hook so easily. "A scam, you say?" He leaned in close again, a smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers traced your waist. "Alright, what will it take to settle this 'debt' of mine?"

You pretended to ponder, your eyes tracing over the familiar contours of his face. "Hmm… your total will beee…"

"Ten kisses," you declared proudly, flashing a playful grin. "And that’s with a discount!"

He rolled his eyes, letting out a barely audible groan. "You minx," he grumbled, though the way his fingers squeezed your waist and the softness in his eyes betrayed his affection. "Fine then, I won’t bargain any further."

With a defeated sigh, he leaned in and began peppering kisses across your face; nine quick ones, each accompanied by a light laugh from you. He saved the last one for your lips, pressing against you gently but with a familiar warmth that fit like the final piece of a puzzle.

Just when you thought it was over, he decided to push it a little further, keeping his lips locked with yours for longer this time. The kiss lingered, deep and slow, until you playfully smacked his shoulders with a soft whine. He finally pulled away, chuckling at the flushed look on your face, only to sneak in one last kiss— an eleventh.

You blinked in surprise, staring at him in mock disbelief as he casually turned back to pick up the basket of equipment. "Wha— that was eleven kisses!" you protested, though you weren’t exactly complaining.

He shrugged casually, walking out the door with a final glance over his shoulder. "Keep the change, sweetheart."

Before you could protest with a panicked look, he was already gone.

---

Ratio returned to his class a few minutes later than he'd intended, the usual sharpness in his stride slightly softened. As he entered, he noticed his students staring at him. Some with wide-eyed confusion, others with flushed cheeks, and more than a few giggling quietly amongst themselves.

Frowning, he set the borrowed equipment down on the table, neatly arranging it as he always did. "If there's something you'd like to ask, do speak. It is rude to stare," he said curtly, glancing up at them with his usual sternness.

There was an awkward pause before one of the braver students spoke up, trying to stifle a grin.

"Uh, Sir Ratio…there's lipstick on your lips."

His hand froze mid-motion, eyes widening slightly in realization. The clatter of glass breaking followed as two of the newly borrowed apparatus slid from his grasp and shattered on the floor.

The room fell silent.

He shuffled awkwardly, bending down to collect the shards of broken glass, his face a deep shade of red. Raising a hand to cover his mouth, he muttered curses under his breath, embarrassed by the situation. Clearing his throat, he tried to regain some semblance of composure. "Ahem— I apologize. Please continue with your reports while I clean this up."

Now he was 10 kisses in debt.

[blackmoonoracle]

PICK A CARD - Uncomfortable Truths

P I L E O N E

Quit putting your trust in things you know don't work. I heard showmanship. The way youve been approaching this connection or situation is egotistical at times. You can be someone that tends to put up a front because you're scared of being seen as weak or vulnerable. You're very tactful & can also be highly skilled in deception. I heard something about reality weaving, you weave your reality very powerfully. Be more mindful of your words when you get angry. When it comes to YOU they aren't just words, you influence the essence of the occurrence of life in every word you speak and every tear you cry. Could be Latino or indigenous in heritage, I also heard Slavic! Give up on what doesn't serve you I heard. Your ancestors are very impatient because you keep avoiding this lesson. If you don't relent soon you're going to look back at this eventually and just be like 😬. While you may think you're operating from a higher perspective right now, there are times you don't & there are times you don't actually hear or understand others the way in which you believe you do.

P I L E T W O

You're actually very lovable. Needing help isn't a reflection of your weakness, it's a reflection of the fact you're wise enough to grasp that sometimes you don't have all the answers. You're veryyyy intelligent & deeply intuitive but you tend to silence yourself for the sake of others. It's like the prospect of standing out really makes you anxious at times. You think about your desire to be seen and acknowledged and then remember what that means for you socially and get the ick 🤣 This pile is giving Taurus energy 🤣 you need to relax more often, youre so serious that sometimes you miss out on the joys of humanity. Even though some things aren't always forever doesn't mean you can't enjoy them for what they are. Learn to indulge without emotional consequences. Also some of y'all would benefit from changing from some kind of diet? Or also from doing some sort of yoga or somatic practice that focuses on clearing anxiety from the stomach.

P I L E T H R E E

You have an envy & projection issue. I feel like a lot of this group Lowkey compares themselves to others frequently or grew up in a way as a child that never made you feel justified in standing up for yourself. So now, you at tiiiimes perpetuate this pattern in your day to day life on a subconscious level. It's a program in your mind, and it's why you feel upset a lot of the time. You may feel like you hold such grudges because you forget how valuable your own perspective and self validation is. You're very self critical and can get frustrated when others succeed. Like you almost fear being outshone by others. A lot of neglect wounds here too, where some of you expect others to go above and beyond for you but you treat yourself horribly. You are very cruel with yourself pile 3, be more kind and be more loving. You deserve to treat yourself with respect.

[omgsecretsecret]

I don't want to go !

Pairing : Lee Minho x gn!reader

Genre : fluff ; crack ; a liiiiiittle bit siggestive if you squint

Word count : about 650

Warning : mention of needles (for vaccines) ; making out

Author's note : I know this isn't great but I had fun writing it ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ ; the pics on top are not mine credits to the owners ; lots of love to my sweet @nmn-yty for helping me <3

Prompts : from the list made by @quokkareactions

54. "Get in"

"No"

"Get in"

"No"

"Now"

"Make m..."

"Trust me, love. That's a sentence you don't want to finish."

+

47. "Why am I on the ground?"

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

You hate needles. You have always hated needles, these pointy little things made for injecting some products in your body. No, thank you. So when you checked your health booklet and saw that you need to get three vaccines done, you were not happy. Hopefully (or not), your lovely boyfriend is here to make (force) you to go to the doctor.

Right now you are in front of the car, he is trying to get you in the car but you keep refusing stubbornly. You are not going there.

"Are you serious right now ? You're like a kid ! he groans, getting frustrated.

— And ? I don't want to go ! you protest, crossing your arms indeed like a sulking child.

— But you have to ! he replies before sighing. Come on, just get in.

— No.

— Get in.

— No.

— Now.

— Make m...

— Trust me, love. That's a sentence you don't want to finish."

You raise a brow. You are in a provocative mood right now, and this definitely made you curious about what he would do. So yes, you are going to try it.

"Bet ? Make. Me. you look at him with a smug look and he isn't even surprised.

— Alright, babe." it's all he says before gently pinning you against the car, trapping you between his strong body and the door.

His eyes travel between your lips and your eyes as he inches closer to you. You're confused, but you'd never refuse a kiss to the hottest man on earth which happens to be your boyfriend. If what he plans on doing to make you regret your sentence is kissing you, you're not complaining. He gently cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with his thumb, yet he doesn't move closer to connect your lips yet. No, he stays like this, purposely making you wait. He smirks as you start pulling him towards you and finally kisses you.

It's slow at first, just to make you want more as he barely moves his lips. But as you get more and more impatient, he finally starts kissing you as you want. He gently pins you against the car, and you let out a surprised whimper. He kisses you more passionately, knowing how much he affects you. He pushes one of his thick thighs between yours as you close your eyes and grip his shoulder. Everything feels hot as he parts his lips as a request to deepen the kiss. You eagerly open your mouth, letting your tongues meet as he grabs your waist with one hand, the other one holding your wrist. It's all so good, but of course Minho is Minho and it can't last long.

You feel him pulling on your arm and tip you over his shoulder, and the next thing you know you're laying on the floor as he looks down at you with a smirk. You're not hurt though, it just made your butt a little bit sore. He carefully made sure to not just throw you down. But still. What the fuck ?

"Why am I on the ground ? you ask with a mix of confusion and annoyance. We were making out !

— I know, I was there. he replies in an almost mocking voice. I warned you. Now get in the car now."

You pout, not very happy, but choose to behave and get in. He sits next to you in the driver seat, watching you while you refuse to look at him. He chuckles at your sulking, you really are just a cute baby.

"But if you're good while we're with the doctor, maybe I'll let you kiss me as much as you want. Sounds good ? he offers as he turns on the car, making you look at him cautiously.

— Yeah... Okay. you mumble and he laughs again. Don't laugh ! I'm gonna kiss you so much you'll regret offering that. you protest, making him raise a brow.

— Sure."

You may be a little annoying sometimes, but he loves you and you'll always be his baby.

◍｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡◍

Many bisous to @giddyfatherchris

do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[honeyed-nothings]

To Have a Crush: Savanaclaw

Warning(s): Gender-neutral reader, not proof-read, OOC

Notes: Procrastination hit me hard…also I did not expect to spend an hour finding decent enough emoticons for them. May just switch to regular bullet point style someday since I’m still trying to figure out what format I like(╥_╥). Never realized how hard it was to make a pretty format on tumblr until now. Also I’ve gotten pretty rusty too but my schedule has finally cleared up a bit so I’ll be able to be a little more active now!

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Leona Kingscholar

𓄂 A crown of love that the king wears. A herbivore was all you were to him. Another nameless face in the faceless crowd of people who he couldn’t care less about in the grand scheme of things. That’s how it was supposed to stay…until it didn’t. The proud lion will never admit this (or at least not anytime soon) but that day where you, a weak and stupidly stubborn human, stood your ground among all the dust and debris was both one of the most frustrating experiences in his life and also the first time he ever thought of you as ‘strong’. Every so often he thinks back to that moment and sighs before pulling you towards him to lay on the grass.

𓄂 A king should always be accompanied by his retainers. However, he’s not king and you’re definitely not his retainer. Just a stubborn herbivore who happened to catch his eye, that’s all. You’re not that great as an errand runner either but it’s better than just one. A help that Ruggie greatly appreciates but occasionally complains about how you always take the lighter load. Don’t think much about it, he just doesn’t want you messin’ up or anythin’. Strangely, whenever you do run errands for him, there’s conviently always an extra that he gives to you. Reasoning to you that the King of Beasts would’ve done the same thing to those under his care. The proud lion knows this is a lie he can’t keep using to play off what he feels inside. Not when his own ears and tail betray him.

𓄂 Tch, well this is embarrassing.

𓄂 Maybe it was a good thing that Leona already knew. From the moment his tail unconsciously wrapped around you, he knew what his heart was telling him as it beat in his chest. There, with you and him napping underneath the shade of a tree, he realized he had fallen in love. He didn’t know whether he should’ve laughed or cursed the world so he chose to do neither instead. Gently brushing a stray leaf off that had fallen on your face, he chuckled. Guess something like love ain’t all that bad.

𓄂 A crownless lion who’s more hated than loved and a visitor from a place far from here. An interesting duo you two make as he pulls you yet again away from class to nap in the shade with him. His attempts at catching your heart aren’t too noticeable, only noticed by the keenest of eyes. He’ll never be the ideal partner, that he acknowledges despite his pride. But being sappy and overly romantic isn’t his style. That’s why, he’ll win your heart in his own way. A path perhaps not that of a king, but of a man in-love. The prideful lion may not bow his head to no one, but for you he’ll take a knee.

“Huh, well aren’t you gettin’ bolder? I didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

Ruggie Bucchi

シ Hidden amidst the dirt and grime was love. It’s ingrained into Ruggie to look after people but he’s learnt to not let it be given without a price. Outside of his family and Leona, the latter of whom was more so to help his own skin, he didn’t exactly feel any desire or need to look after you. Sure he felt pity, after all you’re in a tighter spot than him in the world, but aside from that you were just an after thought. Nobody of note that could be beneficial to him in any way. That was until Leona overbloted and well…he’s somewhat grateful that you don’t have much of a survival instinct. You’re a real goody two-shoes aren’t you? Still, he’s thankful that you’re the way that you are. Hyenas never forget a debt and this one he owes to you alone.

シ It really just started off with it being to repay his debt to you. Sure it’s not much but he can’t really do anything fancy like paying you millions of madols or giving you land. That’s why, the hyena has chosen to pay it back his own way. Simple as it may be, it’s all he really has to offer. It’s not like watching your back is gonna cause him anymore work than he’s already got. Soon enough, he found himself doing more than what he intended to. Giving parts of his lunch to you, claiming he didn’t feel like it or there was extra. Stopping during his errands whenever he spotted you to have a quick chat before going off again with slightly more enthusiasm than before. Or heck, sparing you a few madols so you can get what you need. It’s kinda a loss but he just can’t seem to make himself stop. Not when you smile at him so brightly.

シ Wait a minute.

シ Nah…nahh he can’t seriously be in love with you or somethin’, right? Being close to you is just to pay off his debt, not cause he actually likes your company or anything, right?? But as his eyes catch his reflection on the window panes of the college, he can no longer deny the blush on his face or the rapid beating of his heart as the thought of you runs rampant in his mind once again. Well, guess there’s no point in fidgeting around anymore.

シ He’s not much, really he ain’t. Ruggie knows he won’t hold a candle to anyone else in the school in terms of magic or madol but what he does have is his smarts. In his own way, he’ll try and appeal to you. Sometimes he’s confident, other times he feels like he wants to die from how embarrassing it must’ve looked. Still, he tries and tries and tries. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll choose him buried underneath piles of trash.

“You-…you’re really choosing me?”

Jack Howl

ᴥ︎ Love that resounds throughout the night. A team up was all Jack figured it’d be. An agreement to right the wrongs and set things straight so that one day, once more, Savanaclaw would be able to say from the bottom of their hearts that they won. Nothing big enough to lead into the friendship that came to be between you and him. Well then things took a turn for the worse and then the better and well…he’s sure you get it. An accident, a friendship, a bond, whatever it is, the stubborn wolf has decided that he’ll have your back. No matter what and no matter where, he’ll help you out.

ᴥ︎ Respect was all it was. A respect towards a magicless human who proved their own strength by courageously standing in the face of death. Not everyone has a spirit like that and the wolf beastman couldn’t help but look at that and think ‘Ah, now that’s strength’. In doing so, he wanted to be respected by you too. That’s why, when he could, he’d wait outside Ramshackle and walk with you to your classes, carrying your books and providing an umbrella if it’s a rainy day. Need help on the homework? He won’t tell you the answers but he’ll help you figure it out at least. Like working out? Great! He’s more than willing to provide some tips and tricks to achieving the goal you want. Well it wasn’t until Ruggie teased him about how much more happy he seemed doing all that stuff for you that it finally clicked for him. This…isn’t good.

ᴥ︎ D-don’t misunderstand him!

ᴥ︎ Actually no, maybe you should— wait no you shouldn’t! Jack doesn’t know how to feel about…this now that he fully recognizes it. Well- he does, in a way, it’s just…complicated. To be honest, he did have a suspicion that his feelings of respect towards you had turned into something deeper. How fast his tail wagged whenever you were nearby, how he wanted to put even more effort into whatever he was doing when you were watching, how red his face turned whenever he took a ‘secret’ glance in your direction, it really was way too obvious looking back on it.

ᴥ︎ Wolf-type beastmen only have one partner for the rest of their lives. Dedicating themselves entirely to whoever their partner may be. Jack always dreamed of finding his one true partner, he just never expected it to happen so soon. Yes, a crush to him counts as his one true love as childish as it may be. With exactly zero romantic experience under his belt and only equipped with the knowledge of the multiple times his parents told him their love story, he attempts to appeal to you. Surprisingly, for a first timer in love, they’re all thought out and not embarrassing. Jack isn’t good at hiding how feels about you in front of you or anyone else, but it has a certain charm to it. The charm of an adolescent boy in love who cares for you quietly, unable to hide how he feels, as his heart and tail follow the same beat.

“..Phew, you’re here. Prefect, I—uh need to tell you something.”

[gojoidyll]

stubborn heart ch. 7

yan!capitano x wife!reader

summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.

warnings | y/n tries something out from the book she read...

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For the rest of the day Atri had left you alone. That, however, didn’t stop you from worrying over the books you had gotten. And after dinner that night, you had finally decided to at least take a peek at what the books had to offer.

So, carefully sneaking into the library and pulling the first “spicy” book the cashier had recommended to you, you had retreated by to the safety of your room. Luckily you had already gotten to bathe and do your night routine (alone), so you could jump right into the warm covers and crack open to the first page. You doubted that you would see a sex scene in the first chapter of the book, but you were prepared to throw the book halfway across the room if need be.

Though, with how the first few pages were turning out, you doubted you had much to-

You paused as you read over a sentence again.

“To wind down and relax, I always took a bit longer in the bathroom. What would usually consist of a quick rinse and wash would result in me taking the much needed time to just simply take a moment and breathe. Typically, I wouldn’t be able to do this due to the men skulking about in the camp, but since they are out on their own missions, time permits me to take care of myself. After carefully rubbing the soap up my thighs, I let my fingers gently trail up. My fingertips slowly, lightly reaching up to tease my folds. I let out a small sigh. My head falling back against tub as I slowly pushed-“

You slammed the book shut, your face beat red. Truth be told, you never indulged in pleasuring yourself either. So, to read it so casually really sent your mind into a whirlwind.

You gulped as you reopened to the page you were on after calming your racing heart. You knew you needed to learn about this eventually so there was no backing out now! Though, of course, that didn’t stop you from slamming the book shut from time to time before going back to reading.

Arkan, please please give me more-

“M’lady?”

You slammed the book shut once again before glancing to the door. Why is Atri-? You looked to the other side of the room and noticed how the sun started to rise causing you to sweatdrop.

“Oh dear…”

“M’lady, are you up?”

Turning back to towards the door in a panic, you were quick to fumble around before rolling over to your nightstand, opening the top drawer and throwing the book into it, and shutting it tight.

“Y- yes! I’m awake!”

“Oh good! Breakfast will be done soon!”

“Thank you! I’ll be down after my bath.”

Atri was quick to dismiss herself as you let out a sigh of relief before getting out of bed and making your way to the bathroom. Though, once in there, you gave the tub a side glance, your mind going back and thinking of that first “scene.”

“Maybe I should try?”

You bit your lip; your mind was practically racing at the thought of trying it. The book made it sound like it felt good, so maybe…?

You went over to the tub and crouched down to turn on the hot water. It was worth a shot, right?

You tried to set everything up as the book had done. You knew you were alone, you tried to get as relaxed as possible, and you even already bathed yourself, which only left one thing to do. Though, as you recounted your memory and moved your hands and fingers as the book had described you found that it was not what you were expecting at all.

No matter how you rubbed yourself or how you pushed a single finger into your resisting cunt, you couldn’t get to the point of cumming like the female lead did.

It honestly got you frustrated. No matter how far your finger reached, no matter how you rubbed your inner walls, no matter how much you played with your folds or clit, you just couldn’t cum.

“Am I broken or something?! Oh archons, what if Capitano finds out I can’t cum?! What if I am unable to cum at all?1 He’ll kick me out as quickly as he married me,” you cried as you got out the tub. Your hands reaching for the towel as you started to dry yourself off, “what am I going to do?”

With a new problem on your hands, you got ready for the day.

“Oh dear, you look like a kicked puppy,” Atri said as she set your breakfast down in front of you and you could only give her that sad look from earlier.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well… so I read one of those books.”

“Mmhmm, and?”

“I tried out one of those scenes… where the female lead was,” you looked around to make sure no one else was listening or near you both before you leaned closer to her to whisper, “you know touching herself, and well…”

“What?”

“I can’t, you know, do it…”

“You can’t touch yourself?”

You shook your head, embarrassment already making its way across your face, “no, not that.. I can’t cum… you know, that word.”

“Ahhh, I see.”

“Is that all you have to say?! Why am I the only one worried?! I mean, doesn’t this mean I am broken or something like that?”

Atri giggled to herself before answering, “maybe you need Lord Capitano’s help.”

You immediately deflated, “yeah, but if he learns I can’t cum, won’t he just toss me out?”

Atri rolled her eyes before patting your shoulder, “you’re overthinking it.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Before you could argue any more, someone cleared their throat causing you both to turn towards the entrance of the dining hall where a messenger waited by the door.

“Lady y/n?”

“Yes?”

“Lord Capitano has sent you a letter.”

You tensed up right then and there as the messenger walked over and gently placed the letter next to your breakfast.

“Thank you,” you managed to say.

The messenger bowed and took his leave, letting both you and Atri to stare at the unopened letter.

It’s only been a day, and yet he already sent you something. You really didn’t want to open it.

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