#eheh... lets just say...
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bazeeble · 1 month ago
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time to finally do this trend….have a TERRIBLE pride month everyone
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icyzedd · 2 years ago
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i win
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st4rstudent · 7 months ago
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An old Misty drawing from last year May
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bloodfin · 30 days ago
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finished chapter 4 to post later which means it's time to work on finishing baby's first body shot 😈
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girlballs · 1 year ago
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blasting love huh? 👀👀
yeah!! blasts you
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sysig · 2 months ago
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Your Weekly TV Guide
On Monday you can expect:
2:30 PM: Clinical Trial
And Tuesday:
2:30 PM: Clinical Trial/Damned
Wednesday:
2:30 PM: Clinical Trial/Damned (blood)
Thursday:
2:30 PM: Clinical Trial
Friday:
2:30 PM: Clinical Trial
Saturday:
2:30 PM: Clinical Trial
Sunday:
2:30 PM: Vargas
Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)
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sskk-manifesto · 1 year ago
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Ep 6!!!
#Biggest take away from the episode: @fandom Dazai can't be Atsushi's father figure if he himself says Atsushi's father figure is the–#headmaster check your facts#Second biggest take away from the episode: the worst thing the headmaster transmitted Atsushi ought to be the terrible haircut choices#Mmmmhhh I could spend another whole tag rant to talk about how much I dislike the writing of Lucy in this episode 😭😭😭#But I worry I'll start being perceived as someone who hates women if I do so I won't.#(But let me just say. I really really *really* despite the “what women [alien and mysterious beings] want is hard to understand and–#impossible to decipher and more often than not they will say the exact opposite of what they mean” stereotype.#Like I hate it to an intimate extent.)#I quite like Kyouka's backstory!! I feel like she's the most fleshed out female character with a compelling character arc and personality.#I really like her. Lucy and Atsushi working as make-do parents (very largerly intended. More like siblings who are dating but that sounds–#even worse) was very cute. And I appreciate how the events seemed to set off Atsushi's own reflection on parenthood.#The same doesn't happen in the manga since the chapters are placed in a different order.#Overall this is just an episode that when I was reading the manga for the first time solidified my understanding that me and b/sd have#RADICALLY different views on the world. But now that after three years and having long come to terms with it.#I suppose it's just something that's there.#Ususal notes about the animation just for talks. The lack of budget really shows this episode and in the second half in particular.#It's especially noticeable in backgrounds that are just... Not the stunning backgrounds that usually make b/sd's anime strong point.#So in turn the lack of details comes off as twice as evident as it normally would :/#The whole Atsushi / Tanizaki exchange at the start of the chapter until the headmaster's identity is revealed is completely devoid–#of host which has me just?? What happened here??? A track slowly building up tension is an almost automatic choice I'm just like.#What happened. If it was a deliberate choice it was a very bad one in my humble opinion#On a more positive note I really like whoever drew the characters “background appearence” this episode eheh#(you know‚ the more stylized one when they're not on close up)#And the drawings at the end of the episode daz/atsu twilight scene were good. Kyouka's flashback was also good.#That's it :)#random rambles#Oh yeah rip chapter 39 ss/kk scene ig :///
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lunatic-fandom-space · 2 years ago
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mayerling walzer save me. mayerling walzer. save me mayerling walzer
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neriyon · 10 months ago
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For the FFXIV ask thingy: 8, 14 & 20~
Ohh nice, a triple~
8. Biggest Accomplishment?
This is a hard one since I don't do any savages or extremes or any of the "hard" endgame content people usually say as their big accomplisments haha. So I guess uhh, idk, getting all jobs to 90 during EW? (six to go till all jobs at 100) Or that 5000th commendation I got last month? Figuring out how to do old content (and maps) with just the 3 of us? Still playing this game after 5 years?
14. Favorite Raid?
Alliance one? One of the Nier raids, probably Copied. Ridorana, Orbonne and Aglaia are good too, but there's just something that sparks joy whenever I see Nier raids come up in roulette.
8-man ones? Uhhh..... Pandae 9 (Kokytos) or 11 (Themis)? P4 (Hesperos), 6 (Hegemone) and 7 (tree) were nice too, and I kinda still like getting Eden Titan on rouls.
20. Favorite Limit Break?
Hmm, summoner one is very neat! Not that you get to use it that often, but it's fun to finally become Bahamut.
Fav tank one is drk, melee on is ninja (*angrily does really fast hand signs at you*), ranged is bard (its the bow at the end) and healer is whm. Almost all of them are good tho, only ones I'm meh about are the more "boring", non flashy ones (pld, mnk, sam)
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swallowtail-ageha · 8 months ago
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Uuuugh this lady at ceramic that brought her son in and is like "oh well i brought him there to teach him boundaries" and MOTHERFUCKER YOU COULD HAVE DONE IT IN THE TWENTY YEARS YOU HAVE RAISED HIM. DO NOT DROP THE RESPONSABILITY ON ME (who is also autistic) AND THE HEAD CERAMIST JUST BECAUSE YOU SEE "OH WOMEN"
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lxnarphase · 1 year ago
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━━ ❝ ah-ah, barbie, you're so fine! ❞
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special treatment : thighs edition
☾₊‧⁺...ft. : kamo choso + itadori yuuji + higuruma hiromi + ryomen sukuna
☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, facesitting, somnophilia, dirty talk, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, degradation, desperation, oral fixation, squirting, creampie, choso being whiny, yuuji being a little shit, yuuji is 21yrs & a college student, hiromi being pussydrunk, sukuna being whipped
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✧ k. choso : poor choso, ever since the first time he's gotten a taste of what's between your thighs, he's begging you every day just to eat your cunt. but today? today must be a bad day, because choso is desperate. his already between your thighs, whimpering and whining as he mouths at you through your underwear, tears in his eyes as he begs you to give him a little taste. once you do, his eyes are rolling back just from the first lick.
"you taste so good, fuck, so good, thank you, thank you, mmph, so delicious, i can't get enough." "can you cum again? i know it's been 4 times already, but please? please, please, pleaase, pretty thing, i need itttt..." "oh my goddd, you're cumming? yes, yes, cum on my tongue, pretty please, i'll fuck you so good after, just keep cumming, don't hold back." "stop-stop running away, i know your pretty pussy is all sensitive b-but i just, i can't stop...but you know you can say the safeword and i'll stop, right? ...what? you-you like being overstimulated...? fuck, fuck, okay, let me make you squirt on my tongue then i'll fuck you good, okay?"
✧ i. yuuji : yuuji's always been a smug little shit whenever it came to teasing you. what starts off with him tickling you and blowing raspberries into your stomach turns nto hot kisses against your stomach that let down to the waistband of your underwear as he pushes your shirt up higher on your body. he can't help but grin up at you when he notices the wet spot on your panties from his little kisses.
"d'awww, bunny, y'so cute! look at how wet you are. is that 'cus of me? ehehe, i know, i know, teasing is mean, but i can't help it...you're just so adorable." "y'know i can practically feel your heartbeat whenever i kiss it? mhm, i can feel that, pretty girl. don't cover your face, baby, you're so cute!" "your thighs are so soft. i could stay between here forever, fuck goin' to classes or missions, i'd rather just eat you out until you pass out." "open up these legs a little more, let me get my fingers in there...thereeee we go, such a pretty lil' bun, aren't you?" "you're so messy! did i do this to you? yeah? aww, my pretty girl likes meee! i felt how you squeezed on my fingers! so cute!
✧ h. hiromi : ever since you made a comment about his nose, saying 'doja is right about big noses' in passing to him, hiromi has been curious. curious enough to the point where he looks it up, seeing the video of said woman. so, you wanted to sit on his face and grind on his nose, hm? you've never sat on his face before but he was sure to change that.
"i don't care if you think i'll die, i want you to sit on my face. i'm giving you the chance to either have control of your pace or let me do what i want with you. so, what's your decision?" "see? it's not that bad, angel, you forget your husband isn't some weakling...now c'mon on, get yourself right over my mouth, let me taste you." "god, you're so beautiful like this. i need you on my face more often, you're dripping all over my mouth...such a good girl for me." "heh...i knew you said my nose was perfect for sitting on but i didn't realize it would get you this riled up. go ahead, sweet thing, you can keep grinding that clit on it...just like that, just let me make you feel good." "good lord, i never wanna leave between your thighs. so fucking sweet, shit, angel, you've got me wrapped around that pretty finger. c'mon, let me devour you all night, i'll let you get up when i'm done."
✧ r. sukuna : getting sukuna to lay on his back without him instantly taking control of the situation was easier than you thought. hell, even crawling up higher so that you were hovering over his face was too. but little did you know, sukuna was intrigued, liking the side of you where you would just take control of him, knowing that only you had the right to do that...especially if it meant he got to eat you until you soaked his face.
"you know i should kill you for thinking you can just sit on my face like i'm some kind of personal chair. i am the king of curses, not a piece of furniture...what? ...hm. i guess you do look...good over me like this." "...huh? sorry, i wasn't listening. when are you going to sit on my face? you keep blabbering, but i can see the way that sticky cunt is dripping for me. are you gonna just let it go to waste?" "oh. shit. you've been holdin' out on me, haven't you, diamond? shit, i can see all of you from down here...nah, keep grinding on my face, little one, use me for your pleasure...let me see you cum on my mouth." "such a fucking slut. my mouth is coated in your cum, but you still wanna keep going? my tongue that good for you?" "no, no, i'm not letting you back down until you beg, diamond. tell me how badly you want me to fuck your pussy with my tongue...hm. good enough."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work
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kuiinncedes · 2 years ago
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adgjfgh
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konigslittleliebling · 1 year ago
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you are literally the best cod writer on this app. hands down. I was wondering if you could write simon and reader getting a noise complaint the morning after he literally makes dents in the wall from the headboard slamming, reader whining, you choose the rest. your writing is literally art 💋
EHEH ARE YOU SERIOUS 🥹🥹 squealing, blushing, kicking my feet 🤭🌷
MDNI. flashbacks of rough sex, sexual language !!
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you couldn’t help the butterflies that ricocheted off the walls of your stomach when your husband shot a coy smirk over his shoulder at you. the feds were at the door — clipboard in hand. “sir, we received several noise complaints throughout the night and into the early hours of this morning. . .”
oh.
‘ungh~ tha’sit, lovie.” he croaked against the shell of your ear — the moist, matted foliage of his pelvic bush kissing your swollen clit with ever piston of his drilling hips against yours. “missed ya s’much, darlin.” his voice, husk and dry, reverberated against your sweat-damp temple where gentle pecks left affectionate stamps in their wake. “feel so good squeezin me like that, mmf~”
“oh yeah?” your husband responds, feigning oblivion. “y’sure they was complainin ‘bout us, lads?” they nod at that, peering past the hunk of your husband to acknowledge your smaller self. “yes, sir. said it wasn’t the first time.” they look back to simon, dragging their eyes up his six-foot-something bulk. “apparently this happens whenever you come home.”
“that so?” simon irks them, his pride potent in his tone and stature. “what’d they tell ya?”
“missed you, si!” you whined, nails raking down the taut flesh of his expansive back. “so big!” you complemented, eyes performing somersaults within their sockets. “so good!” and it was. your husband’s thick cock had never felt better; solid pudge rocking into the soft slope of your now no-doubt pregnant stomach whilst his girthy prick went to town on your innards. you mewled, slender digits clawing the memento of that night into his muscular body as his vigorous movements bashed the headboard into the wall behind.
“your neighbours heard a loud ‘banging’ from about dinner time onwards, mister riley.” one officer informs him. “yeah, and what sounded like screaming up until 4 the ‘morrow.” the other adds. you know your husband’s ego just grew ten sizes bigger, his dick likely swelling also. “really?” simon humours them, smirk blatantly present as he says so. you giggle, hand flying to cover your mouth as an embarrassed flush taints your cheeks a raw maroon.
“s-simon! the wall!” you cried, wept. blissful tears poured from your hooded eyes as you craned your neck backward — the paint on the wall crumbling as the metal frame of your headboard collided with it with each of his aggressive thrusts. “leave it.” he grunted, fucking into your exhausted pussy with increased force. “let the whole fuckin’ house tumble down.” hissed into your gaping mouth; tongues tangling and saliva accumulating. “let everyone know who’s fuckin’ you dumb like this, yeah? makin you scream ‘til you cum nice an’ hard.” and you did — milking his fat prick dry as a ring of cream slickened around his hairy base. “cum on this cock, love”
“just thought we better have a look ‘round, if you’s don’t mind.”
simon looks back to where you’re watching with a blush. “not at all, officers.” he winks, to which the heat that blushes your flustered face dives southbound to narrow on your throbbing cunt. “c’mon in.” and of course he directs them upstairs first.
“you can do it, sweet’art.” he groaned into your moaning mouth. “let ‘em hear ya.” his pace picked up, inflated balls bouncing off the underside of your upturned arse as he hammered his heavy cock against the roof of your bruised cervix. “let ‘em know who’s home.” your eyes rattled until their whites were visible, pupils rolling back to stare your brain down when his weeping cockhead bumped into your cunt’s velvety roof — pre-cum mingling with the cream of your impending climax. “that’s it, love. hug me nice and tight.” you let out a strangled squeal at his words, voice breaking whilst he battered your smaller frame into the creaking mattress. the bed frame shook, swaying back and forth in tandem with his zealous rhythm. “gonna wake the neighbours.” you slurred through spit-covered lips — red and puckered. “good.” simon retorted, muffled by the slaps of skin ploughing skin.
“how did this happen?” one of the cops asks, gesturing to where the wall has eroded. the plaster beneath reveals exposed brick where next door attaches to the structure of your abode, loose wiring and pipes hanging down. the headboard is dented, the paint from it now transferred onto what remains of the wall behind. “wear ‘n tear.” simon shrugs, slinging a lazy arm around your shoulders. you lean into him, legs still aching from last night. “besides.” he adds, slyly pinching your backside. “was happy to see the missus.”
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blueberrisdove-sideblog · 4 months ago
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ehehe lion!mydei mates with cat!reader since lions are just big cats !! :33
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✧ warnings : nsfw/smut, size difference, overstimulation, jealousy, biting/marking, heat/rut implications, rough but affectionate s*x, mild breeding kink, purring, growling, hybrids & cockwarming.
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You don’t even see him move.
One moment, you’re laughing, ears twitching as a younger male tugs at your tail in a playful challenge. The next, a low, guttural grow rips through the air, and your body is hauled backward, heat blooming where clawed fingers dig into your hips.
The world spins, grass and sky blending as you’re thrown down.
Mydei looms over you, golden eyes burning with something dark, something dangerous. His tail lashes once before curling tight around your thigh, holding you in place. Caging you in.
“What the fuck was that?” His voice is low, rough—more animal than man.
You barely get a breath in before he’s on you, nose pressed into your neck, scenting you. He inhales deeply, lips curling in a snarl as his fangs scrape against your pulse.
Your ears flatten instinctively. Your tail flicks, but his grip tightens.
“Thought you could let them touch you?” Mydei growls, pressing his body flush against yours. His cock is har, burning hot even through his clothes, rutting against your stomach as if he can’t help himself. “Mine.”His tail tightens around your thigh, a vice of velvet and muscle. “All mine.”
His teeth sink into your throat—not deep enough to break skin, but hard enough to sting. A warning. You gasp, thighs twitching beneath him, and he purrs. It’s deep, reverberating through his chest, his whole body vibrating with it.
“Mydei—”
His hands move fast, one gripping the base of your tail while the other rips away the thin fabric covering you. Your fluffy ears twitch as your back arches, the sharp jolt of pleasure making your breath hitch.
“You don’t get to say my name like that,” he hisses, spreading your legs wider. “Not after making me watch you play with them.”
Then he’s pushing in.
You cry out, nails digging into his arms as he stretches you open. He’s thick, forcing your pussy to take every inch, every ridge, every pulsing inch of him. Your body clenches down hard, too tight, too much—
A sharp bite to your shoulder makes your muscles go slack. Mydei takes the opening to thrust, fully seating himself inside, his cock throbbing against your walls.
“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping against yours. “You feel that? How you’re gripping me?” His tail unwinds from your thigh, dragging up to stroke between your legs, teasing, pressing. "This is what you needed, isn’t it?"
You can’t answer, mouth slack as your body pulses around him, already twitching from the intensity of it all. Your ears flick back, overstimulated, but he just purrs, pleased and possessive.
“Too late to act shy now,” Mydei breathes, grinding into you, slow and deep. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his hands everywhere—gripping your hips, pinning your wrists, holding you open.
His teeth graze your throat again, and he groans. “Gonna make sure they all know. Make sure your scent is drenched in me.”
You don’t doubt it. He’s not letting you go—not tonight, not until your body screams his name louder than you ever could.
Mydei’s grip on your hips is bruising, his claws pressing just hard enough to remind you who’s in control, who you belong to. The sharp bite of pain only makes the pleasure more intense, and when he pulls out—just enough to tease the stretch before slamming back in—you choke on a gasp.
“Yeah,” he groans, voice thick with satisfaction, “you needed this, didn’t you?” His tail drags up your thigh again, this time curling against your stomach, tracing soft patterns along your skin before dipping lower.
Your breath stutters when the velvet tip of it brushes against your clit, teasing the swollen nub as he grinds into you, hips rolling slow and deep.
“Mydei—” Your voice breaks, body twitching as overstimulation creeps in, your pussy already fluttering around him. He feels too good, cock hitting just right, heavy and throbbing inside you.
His purring deepens, vibrating through his chest as he watches you struggle. “That’s it,” he murmurs, dragging his tail back down before curling it around your waist like a leash. “That’s my good girl.”
You barely have time to react before he shifts, angling your hips up, locking you in place as he starts to fuck you properly.
Each thrust is sharp, pushing you further into the soft grass, making you feel every inch of him. His cock is thick, stretching you open over and over, forcing your body to take him.
“You’re so wet for me,” Mydei growls, his breath hot against your throat. He licks over the bite he left earlier, soothing the mark before nipping again, sending another sharp jolt of pleasure through you. “This pussy was made for me.”
You can only moan, legs shaking as he presses down on your stomach, feeling himself move inside you. “Bet you’d take my cubs so well,” he mutters, more to himself than you, golden eyes dark with hunger. “You’d look so pretty, all full for me.”
A whimper escapes your lips, body clenching down around him, and Mydei chuckles. “Oh, you like that?” His pace slows, dragging himself out so only the tip remains before sinking back in, keeping you stuffed, making you feel every inch of him.
He stays there, deep inside, filling you completely, letting your body mold around him. You try to move—try to grind against him, desperate for friction—but his hands clamp down on your waist, holding you still.
“Mm-mm,” he murmurs, smirking against your skin. “We’re not done yet.” His cock throbs inside you, a steady reminder that he’s not letting go anytime soon. “You’re staying right here—warming my cock, keeping me nice and buried inside this perfect little pussy until I say so.”
His tail tightens around your waist, his purring deepening as he settles over you, completely caging you in. You can feel his heartbeat against yours, his body heat swallowing you whole.
And as he slowly starts to grind again, lazy and deep, you realize he’s not stopping until he’s completely satisfied. Until you’re thoroughly ruined for anyone else.
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© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!
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osarina · 6 months ago
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ᡣ𐭩 LOVERS ROCK
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: there are very few things that leave dazai osamu at a loss for answers. you are one of them. more specifically, it's your relationship (is this a relationship?) with him that has him so disconcerted, and dazai is getting to his breaking point.
(wordcount: 3.6k; nsfw [kind of, very suggestive so will label nsfw], ada!reader, dazai has SEVERE trust issues & paranoia, this is set like half a year after he joined the ada, dazai also has a bad relationship with sex that is mentioned in his narration, he is terrible at communication too, accidentally hurts reader a little [nothing major])
AUTHOR'S NOTES: hiiiiiii guys <.< so i'm actually really proud of this ehehe. this is a universe that i'm tempted to expand on like wykyk, but we'll see.
Dazai hates giving up control. 
Ever since he was a kid, he’s been hyper-independent. First with his family, because they were never around and he had to learn to be self-sufficient otherwise he’d die a slow, painful death. Then in the Port Mafia, he quickly learned that asking for help is a weakness and being dependent on others is a vulnerability that people would take advantage of to subvert his influence and usurp his position as an underboss. As long as he’s remembered, it was all but a death sentence to rely on any other than himself. 
It wasn't until he became a member of the Agency that he finally began to allow himself to depend on others—banking on Ranpo and his mind, Kunikida and his ideals, Yosano and her tenacity. But even then, he never allowed himself to lose complete control over a situation, drawing things out in a way that would always leave him with a firm hand guiding the chess board. 
Until he met you, at least.
He wasn’t sure what made you so different—he still isn’t entirely sure, it’s a thought that frequently plagues him, and because of it, he can never allow himself to be fully comfortable with you. You joined the Agency a month after him with lips that spoke pretty words and gave him even prettier smiles. You’d been kind to everyone, but Dazai likes to think you were especially kind to him. Maybe it was just his imagination, but Dazai liked the idea of it.
Well, he didn’t at first. 
In fact, he was rather hostile to it. To you. The longing he felt for the casual, soft touches you laid upon the other members of the Agency felt more like a weakness than anything else. It scared him. He’d never desired anything of the sort before, he’d always been okay on his own—thrived in it, really—and now he was suddenly seeking you out at all hours of the day, and he didn’t even fully understand why. Every time he sought you out, it ended poorly with him saying something uncalled for and your expression twisting as you tried to hide your hurt. 
And yet he still continued to seek you out. He made the same mistake over and over again: constantly forcing himself into your space after getting jealous watching you doll out casual affection to the other detectives, waiting for you to give him the same attention, and then lashing out in some manner when you finally did.
He supposed it didn’t help that Dazai was uncomfortable in general with people touching him, which naturally made him even more hostile because why was he longing for something that made him uncomfortable? 
He also still isn’t sure how you managed to break through all of his walls—or why you even persisted when it became clear that he was at best incompetent when it comes to dealing with real emotions, and at worst, borderline malicious. 
But you did. And it scared him. Scares him.
Dazai lets out a shaky breath when he feels your lips ghost against his neck, fingers twisting the sheets below him. Your hands are sliding against his sides, gentle and soothing, and a part of him wants to melt into the sheets while another part of him wants to flip the two of you around, press you back down into the mattress and rip control over the situation back from you.
As if you can sense his conflict—maybe you can, Dazai has come to realize that unlike everyone else at the Agency, who he can fool with his mask of exaggerated dramatics and clownlike behavior, that you had somehow learned how to see right through him—you pause for the sparest moment and trace your lips back up his neck to brush them against his own, soft and comforting, as if to soothe his discord.
And it works somehow. Dazai doesn’t know how you do it because he can’t even quell his own mind when it starts to spin out of control, but the brush of your lips against his is enough to ground him again. 
“Everything okay?” you ask quietly, eyes searching his face for the answers that he knew his lips might not give.
“Yeah,” he breathes out, voice rough and cracking over the word. 
He thinks maybe a part of it is the way you always check on him to make sure he’s doing alright. For Dazai, sex has only ever been transactional—he was young when he was first carted off to a whorehouse so he could be taught how to use his body for intel and other miscellaneous advantages. No matter how hard he tried to enjoy it, he always found it to be underwhelming at best and loathsome at worst. And he did try to enjoy it, he forced himself to seek out women in his free time to try to learn to enjoy the activity that so many other people seem to find comfort and pleasure in. 
It wasn’t until you that he could.
His first time with you was earth shattering. He’s not exaggerating when he says it completely altered his perspective on intimacy. It was embarrassing, almost—he remembers giving you quick, flirty smiles, and he remembers the sly comments he whispered to you at the bar the members of the Agency were at to celebrate Yosano’s birthday. 
He knew that morning that he wanted you in his bed by nightfall—partly because he thought it would get you out of his system, that maybe all he needed was a good fuck to stop acting like he was brainless whenever you were around, and partly because he was curious. He was curious to know if that genuine demeanor of yours continued behind closed doors, or if it was all just a mask you liked to put up in public. 
Dazai’s hands were on you before the two of you even left for the night—they were creeping up your inner thigh, lingering on your bicep, he was resting his chin on your shoulder as he stood behind you, warding off any man that might try to approach you with cold looks you couldn’t catch. Eventually, like he planned, you asked him if he wanted to go back to your apartment, and Dazai agreed, of course, eager to get his questions answered. Eager to free himself of whatever shackles you’ve put on him.
And it all went downhill from there.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask again, frown deepening and hands stilling on his waist when you don’t find an answer you like on his face.
Dazai tries to play it off—you’re here for sex, not all of his unstable thoughts. He gives you a practiced smile and slips his hand under your shirt to rest on your lower back, pulling you firmer against him—an easy tactic, one of the first he learned to distract his partner when he slips up.
He should have known better than to think you would fall for it.
Instead of returning to the lingering line of kisses you were leaving on his neck, you sit back to study him, and Dazai feels seen. He shifts under your scrutinizing gaze, averting his eyes to the ceiling and counting the seconds that pass as he waits for you to ask that dreaded question. 
“What's wrong?” you ask him quietly.
Dazai can evade it. He knows that he can—even if the sex is ruined, because he knows you’re not going to have sex with him if you think something is wrong, he can evade this question by refusing to answer. You never press it, although sometimes your lips curve down in a disappointed frown that makes him feel even worse than before.
But Dazai finds himself hesitating.
“I-“ he starts to say before cutting himself off abruptly, horrified by the realization that he was just about to admit to you what he was thinking. “Nothing.” 
The anticipation that had sprung to your eyes when he started to speak dissipates when he blows you off, and it makes his chest tighten. He feels your thighs tense and knows you’re about to get off of him, so his hands fly to your hips to keep you in place.
“Something,” he corrects, voice just a little too raspy for comfort. “… Something.”
You settle back down on top of him, tilting your head to the side. 
“Tell me?” you offer quietly, your hands drop to his arms, sliding up and down the bandages that cover his forearms slowly. Soothingly. He hates it.
“I just don’t understand this,” Dazai admits. “It’s… confusing.”
It's possibly the first time he’s ever spoken these words out loud. It’s a weakness he’s never allowed anyone to be aware of—even when Dazai has no idea what’s going on, he’s careful to put up an impenetrable facade of confidence, one that even the keenest eyes can’t see through.
And here he is, bare of masks and facades, admitting his weakness plainly to someone who could easily take advantage of it.
Oh.
“This as in��?” you prompt with a pondering frown.
Is that it?
“This,” he repeats more insistently as his mind races. “Us.”
You, he accuses silently.
You have the ability to destroy him. Dazai realizes, disconcerted, that this is what is confusing him. He's allowed himself to be weak in front of you. He's lowered all of his guards. He's let you in through his many walls of defenses. You’ve settled down in the treacherous beating thing in his chest that he’s tried to rip out too many times to count, and Dazai waits for you to take advantage of it. He waits for this to go wrong. Waits for you to prove yourself to be a Trojan Horse in the form of dazzling smiles and a beautiful face. 
But you don’t, and that’s what Dazai just can’t understand. He doesn’t understand what you’re getting out of this—he knows what he’s getting out of it. He’s getting comfort, he’s able to pretend he’s capable of being loved, he gets you. But you’re not getting anything out of this, so he feels like he’s just been biding time before the other shoe drops.
“… What about us do you not understand?” You sound perplexed, and it agitates Dazai. Worse, you can tell it agitates him because immediately you run your thumb over the pulse point on his wrist to soothe him. You add quickly with a small smile, “I'm not understanding now, help me?”
It is beyond disconcerting that even though he knows it was a ploy to distract and soothe him, it works anyway. Dazai needs to do something about this.
“What do you get out of this?” Dazai decides to ask the question plainly instead of dancing around his words, partially because of the agitation and partially because he just needs an answer. Desperately. “What do you get out of what’s going on between us? I don't understand why you keep agreeing to meet me, why you initiate it sometimes. I need to know what it is you get."
Sex is transactional—it always is. Each party has to get something out of it, and if you don't know what the other is getting, then you have made a perilous mistake somewhere along the line. Dazai has known this since the beginning, but he allowed himself too long to bask blindly in the comfort of your arms and bed. He can’t keep doing this without knowing what you’re getting, It’ll come back to haunt him.
You’re still confused by his question even with the explanation, he can see it in the way the thoughts race behind your eyes as you try to piece it together. 
Eventually you settle on a smile that’s almost playful as you answer with, “You?”
Dazai’s frown deepens at your words, his expression becomes a bit colder. He thinks you’re evading the question because you don’t want to answer it, and that’s dangerous. You joined the Armed Detective Agency not long after him—were you a plant sent to get close to him by one of his old enemies? By Mori? His thoughts start to spiral dangerously. These are questions he should’ve been having months ago when you first joined the Agency, not now. 
“What are you really getting?” His grip on your hips tightens. “Tell me. Stop avoiding the question.”
Your expression becomes a bit more alarmed when he closes off from you, he thinks maybe his grip on your hips might be painful from your wince but he can’t afford to let go until he has his answer. 
“You, Dazai,” you say again, more insistently this time. “I get you. I get to spend time with you. be with you. That’s what I get.”
“But why?” Dazai presses, raising his voice, holding you tighter. He is hurting you now, he can tell from the way you try to bat his hands away, but he couldn’t let go if he wanted to. His blood pressure is rising as he realizes how badly he might have messed up. All of Ango’s efforts—Odasaku’s last request—all down the drain because of one mistake. “Why? What information are you trying to get? Who sent you? Who are you work-“
“What?” you demand. The confusion in your eyes is almost believable—Dazai thinks you must’ve been sent by someone important if you’re this good of an actress. His thoughts track back to Mori and his mind starts to fog with fury. “Who sent me? What are you-Dazai-I want you because I care about you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
The fog clears, Dazai stares at you blankly, hands loosening on your hips. He's not sure he heard you correctly, so he says: “What did you just say?”
Your expression softens a bit, and you repeat, “I care about you. I want you because I care about you.”
“No, you don’t,” Dazai says immediately. Instinctually.
“Yes, I do.” Dazai has never seen you get irritated before, but your face twists when he instantly denies your words. “I do, Dazai.”
“You don’t,” he insists. “You can’t. You don’t even know me, you don't care about me.”
He thinks he almost would have preferred that you had some ulterior motive to this. He hates the way his chest swells with hope—hope is dangerous, more dangerous than any other emotion. Fear, anger, sadness, none of it compares to the light that tries to bloom within his rotted chest. He tries to cut it off before it can spread, but it’s notoriously hard to snuff out; it clings to anything it can get a hold on even as he tries to push it away. 
The idea is… more tempting than he expected. It’s concerning, that should be enough to clear his head, but it’s not. His fingers cling to your shirt desperately, he searches your face, trying to find the sparest indication that you may be lying.
He finds none.
Still, Dazai knows better. He knows this won’t last. you’ll find out who he was, all of the things he did, and then you’ll leave him. You’ll see him for what he is, and you’ll leave him. This will never last. 
Nothing good ever does for him. 
“But I do care about you,” you insist, and you’re cruel now, because you reach out to cup his cheek and Dazai leans into your touch. He can’t help himself from it. “I care about you deeply, Dazai.”
“You can’t,” he repeats, and to his horror, his voice wavers. “You don’t know who I am, you don’t know what I’ve done, and when you do-“
“We all have skeletons in our closet, Dazai,” you interrupt him quietly. “I don't think there’s a single ability user out there that doesn’t. I don't need to know your past to know I care about you.”
That’s not true, he wants to say, but can’t force the words out. Instead, he says hoarsely, “It would change how you see me. I'm not who you think I am. I’m-”
A monster. A demon. His blood is black—has been since the day he was born, will be until the day he dies. He is not someone who should be cared for. He's someone who should be left to rot, someone the world would be better off without. He doesn’t deserve this, not when there are so many other people in the world who are unfailingly good and do deserve it. 
“It won’t,” you say again, but Dazai knows it’s not true, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know how awful he is. You don’t give him the chance to protest though. “I care about who you are today. I care about who you are tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. Not who you were months ago. The past is the past, Dazai, leave it there.”
“It's not that simple,” he rasps. 
“It can be,” you say softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “if you let it.”
“It can’t be that simple,” he disagrees. There’s an odd lilt to the voice—pleading, almost, begging you not to give him hope only to rip it away when the truth inevitably comes to light. “It can’t.”
“It can for us,” you tell him again, and Dazai finds himself believing you. Wanting to believe you. Wanting to believe things can just be that simple. That easy. 
“Why?” Dazai breathes out, eyes searching your face for answers. “Why me? Why not someone…”
Someone better. Someone good. Someone deserving. 
“Because you’re you,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, you lean down to ghost your lips against his and it fogs his brain with a pleasant warmth he’s only ever felt with you. “Do I need a reason more than that?”
Dazai wants to say yes, because him being him is a reason for you to not want him. He’s despicable, he’s cruel, he lashed out at you for weeks all the while forcing himself into your space because he wanted to be near you but didn’t understand why. 
“I love your smile,” you say, thumb running along his bottom lip, “and I love even more when I’m the reason for it.”
“But-“
“And I love your eyes,” you continue, fingers trailing up his face to trace under his eyes. “I think they’re the prettiest shade of brown I’ve ever seen.”
“I know that’s not true,” he rasps—he knows very well that his eyes are unnerving, too black and too empty. People have been unable to look him in the eye for long even when he was a kid. “I-“
“But most of all, it’s just you,” you say softly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. “You make me happy. I like being around you. I always look forward to the time we get to spend together—missions, at work, after work. I’ll take you in whatever way I can get, Dazai.”
You don’t let him avert his gaze this time, you force him to look at you, force him to see the truth of your words reflected in the adoration on your face. No one has ever looked at him like this before, and it makes him feel bare. Seen. He’s always felt seen with you, but never like this.
“I was… mean to you.” He still tries to argue with you, lashes fluttering shut. “I was cruel for months because-“
You laugh at him. “Mean? You were like a puppy trying to snap at my hand to scare me off.”
Dazai gapes. “A puppy?” he demands, seriously offended. “Don’t compare me to a dog. I’m more like a… A…”
“A…?” you press, a pretty smile flickering at your lips.
“A panther,” he supplies confidently.
“A kitten,” you correct.
Dazai groans dramatically, flinging his head back, but he finds himself smiling. He finds his chest full of warmth, light and bubbly, and when he looks back up at you to meet your eyes, he finds the same emotion swimming on your face. He thinks again that no one has ever looked at him like this before—not with such fondness, not with adoration, not with…
No, Dazai doesn’t dare think that word.
“I care about you too,” he admits. He’s hesitant, like he’s scared to say the words out loud.
“Even with all of the skeletons hidden in my closet?” you tease, leaning down to brush your lips against his again, and then a second time, and then a third. He basks in it, eyes sliding shut as you kiss him gently—it takes a few moments for your words to register.
“They’re not worse than mine,” he replies, the pads of his fingers running up and down your thighs absently. After a couple of seconds pass, he asks, “… What skeletons do you have?”
You tilt your head to the side and say playfully, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Dazai isn’t ready for that, so he just tosses you a smile and a wink before murmuring, “How about you show me something else instead?”
You laugh at that, tossing your head back and giggling so genuinely that your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound. His lips part to make another suggestive comment, but he finds himself breathless at the sight of you. 
You’re beautiful, and Dazai can’t help but think again that he doesn’t deserve this. You.
“Deal,” you agree.
This time when you lean down to press your lips against his, Dazai’s hands are content to rest on your thighs. His fingers don’t itch to wrangle control from you, and his mind isn’t plagued with paranoia-induced thoughts.
He thinks, maybe, that he can get used to this. Used to you.
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seventh-district · 2 years ago
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oh, the unmatched relief of cancelled plans
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