#he forced me to watch a game show w him

[gloxk]

Sneaky linkin’

(Eren Y. Armin A. Connie S.)

A/N: i’m not COMPLETELY back, but I am making a slight improvement w my mental health… so here’s sum slight for yall🤷🏽‍♀️. I kinda hate this but maybe yall will like it..ion know. Luv ya tho. 17+.

Synopsis: Aot men as sneaky links.

Warning: Smut.. F/M

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

Eren! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ———Back seat bandit

Eren..is definitely a back seat bandit. It’s mainly because he has a nice car, why not show it off?

Now, all i’m going to say is (Persian rugs- jacquees version.) Oh lawwwd, he definitely plays that while giving the most sloppiest, nastiest, messiest, back arching back shots ever. This man does NOT play.

Hair puller, choker, dirty talker. He’s the type to make you tell him how good he’s fucking you. “Uh-huh, right there? You like that baby?” And you better tell him too.

The hair pulling thing just comes by instinct. You could be giving this man the sloppiest head ever, deep throating him till hes hitting the back of your esophagus and all. The type of head that makes him feel like he’s shifting reality. He will tug your hair to get a real good look at your face, saliva dripping down your chin and red coating your face. A face that just screams ‘ Am I making you happy?’. He would stare at you with a shit eating grin just while the camera flash hits your face.

Degrading as fuck. He would just say some shit to boost his ego during sex. “I know you like that shit, stop acting like you don’t.” & “You can scream my name louder than that. Try again.” & “Stop fuckin running.” Don’t be fooled now, he’s also going to talk you through it and give you reassurance. “You doin so good f’me.” & “it’s all yours mami.” & “You look so pretty right now.”

Ugh this man just loves to have his hand wrapped around your body. Around your waist, neck, thighs, hands—it don’t matter to him. He loves touching on you. Any time yall link his hands just find their way over your body.

Connie! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— Any time any where

Connie..is the type of guy who can fuck ANYWHERE. Car, room, closet, random family bathroom at a gas station—he don’t care.

If you’re down, he’s down. Y’all could be out shopping and he fucks you in the dressing room.

This man LOVES when you ride him. He would just watch you in awe while you bounce up and down on him.

Definitely a talker during sex, he loves telling you how good you’re doing. “Mhm—fuck—I love when you do that.” & “Cmoonn look at me while you do it.” & “Arch that back mama.”

Now, he’s a recorder. He records everything. He has a little folder in his phone dedicated to your link ups.

Although he’s gonna dick you down anywhere he can, his favorite place is the shower. Got some music playing in the background (P power - gunna) while he’s plowing into you. The shower couldn’t even cover up your loud moans.

Pull out ? Nah, “You wanna be grown, let’s be grown baby.” He doesn’t believe in wasting, so either you sucking it up or taking that shit.

Armin! ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ——— munch

Armin..is an eater. He’s gonna eat like it’s his last meal every fucking time. His tongue game is vicious. Absolutely diabolical, the messiest head you will ever get.

Salvia dripping on the couch, tears falling from your eyes due to overstimulation, legs locking around his head—he still wouldn’t stop. He won’t stop till you force him to.

Hold on now, Armin ain’t just an eater, he got good dick too. He’s a saint that’s gonna fuck you like a sinner. Let him get some liquor in his system and you’re going to be begging for round 2.

Speaking of drunk Armin, he’s gonna fuck you against a wall. Just something that’s going to happen one way or the other. One leg in the air while the other dangles just above the floor, his hands gripping on your ass so hard it leaves a mark.

Oh it doesn’t stop there either, he’s going to stumble his way to the bed and take you there too.

Hella vocal whimpering, moaning, whispering. He’s going to let you know your pussy good. “God-you feel so fuckin good.” & “Please keep doing that.”

Loves teaching you new things, different kinks, positions, anything of the sort. I know he just loves exploring and experimenting things with you. He’s a freaky freak for sure. <3

━━━━━━━⚠︎━━━━━━━

whore…

[ph4ngz]

HOW THEY FUCK YOU || BLUE LOCK

w/ isagi, chigiri, bachira, rin and sae :D reo, nagi and kunigami version here <3

Isagi Yoichi fucks you with ultimate passion. He loves to see his best and beautiful girl bouncing up and down each time he forces his hard cock inside of your— no, his perfect pussy. With his forearms resting beside your head, he'll murmur sweet nothings into your open mouth as he shakes his head so that your noses touch a few times. "Let it all go..." he'll grant you a long, fiery kiss when you're about to cum just to hear and watch you gasp for air as he thumbs your pulsing clit, "you're so gorgeous when you cum on my cock, such a pretty girl". Most of the time, Isagi won't let himself cum until you're incapable of moaning anything but his name and his name only.

"C'mon baby, moan my name. Hell, fuckin' scream it if you want to. F-Fuck!" he'll pry it out of you, he always does. It's not like you can help it when he's making you feel so good, its the only name you'll ever be thinking of no matter what situation you're in.

Chigiri Hyoma fucks you with unrivalled speed. He never fails to leave you unable to form a coherent sentence, your brain turning to mush throughout your fuck sessions every single time. "Hngh, what a view," he'll moan and kiss one of your calves laid upon his shoulders whilst drilling into your sopping cunt, having your asscheeks propped up on his knees so his arms can wrap around your limp thighs. Whenever you're trying to speak, Chigiri will change pace to fuck you faster. He can't get enough of your futile attempts at speaking, revelling in the cute, long-winded whimpers that jump along with his thrusts.

"Fuuuuck... a-almost too fast for this pretty pussy to handle..." he'll stutter, leaning his warm forehead into your raised leg before the soft walls gripping at his dick begin to constrict again, opening his clenched eyes to witness you cum without warning. "One more time, atta girl. Don't pass out on me, dumbass."

Bachira Meguru fucks you with eager fascination. There's no such thing as a boring sex life with him around. Your noises and expressions are what he thrives off of, so you can forget trying to keep anything from him as he will, without a doubt, succeed in getting the reaction he wants from you. He loves getting you all embarrassed with his unpredictable antics, like the times when he'll land a swift slap upon your swollen clit right after caressing you so gently. "Mmph!" he'll bite his lip playfully at the sharp impact and grin sinfully at your bowed brows, "my, myyyy~ you liked that, didn't you?".

Bachira will treat sex like a damn guessing game, you don't understand why though, seeing as he knows you like the back of his hand. Maybe it's to show you how amazing he is in bed without sounding so egotistical. "Are you going to cum? No? A-Agh, how about now? Just kidding. Cum all over me..." he'll joke whilst relentlessly slamming his hips against your ass, observing your body jolt uncontrollably in his lap. "That's it, that's my slutty little monster."

Itoshi Rin fucks you with intense craving. He's utterly obsessed with you. You're the one segment of his life that big brother Sae cannot touch, and he likes to keep it that way. He'll never get over the sensation of security your tight, wet pussy brings forth, his loud sighs and possessive gripping at your thighs giving him away every time. Everything about your existence stokes a desire within him, making him crave that particular, heart-melting expression that Sae could never achieve. "Huh, huh..." he'll pant into your neck whilst ruthlessly humping you against the wall, "only I can make you feel like this, only me...". He'll have your entire body quivering, convulsing under his expert touch in seconds, and its when you do reach your high that he pays more attention than he would during a fucking soccer match.

Rin would rather die than not be able to see you cum for him. For him to be content, he has to etch the memory into his brain. "Good girl, good girl," he'll lovingly caress your contorting face and angle his hips perfectly, "I want you to cum s-so hard for me, so hard for me that you forget your own name." Sometimes the rewarding sight ends up being too much for his poor heart to take in, ropes of white releasing inside of you unexpectedly.

Itoshi Sae fucks you with utmost confidence. He knows damn well that nobody can have the control that he has over you. You'd do anything for him. "Now, bend over and fucking take it for me." he'll demand whilst tapping his bare cock upon your asscheek, not a single worry about your obedience faltering because... its him, of course you'll obey. When he fucks you from behind, he loves to gently grab you by the neck and pull your back into his chest. He'll praise you for your best behaviour, heavy balls thumping against your clit with his brutal thrusting. "Like a fucking champion..." with a hand brushing stray hairs away from your heated face.

Out of all the trophies he's racked up over the past, you're by far his most treasured. Sae is reminded of this once he sees your plumped lips open in a silent scream, spongy walls vice-like around his length as your release hits you like a brick. "There you go, cream on my fat cock." he'll groan into your sensitive ear, the hand around your neck coiling tighter like a deadly constricter snake.

|| || || || ||

[lewisvinga]

the designer vs. the model | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary; fans begged and begged fashion icon and designer y/n to help charles out, luckily for him, she gave him the girlfriend effect

fc; jennie kim

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested !

masterlist !

liked by yourbestfriend, and others

yourusername: cannes film festival; the design, before & after 🎀

username: AN ICON

username: i knew she’d eat this gala up😩

yourbestfriend: my beautiful talented best friendddd😻

yourusername: hehe love u xx

username: her talent needs to be studied

username: pls style charles_leclerc he needs help

username: studying fashion to be just like y/n!

username: y/n we need your talent on the f1 grid specifically in the ferrari garage specifically charles_leclerc

username: heyyy girl, u gonna need to share your styling talents w a certain monegasque 😁

username: oh i just know she’d give charles the girlfriend effect

username: STYLE CHARLES_LECLERC

yourusername: whaaaa ö

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, and others !

charles_leclerc: new profession: photographer

username: omg y/n liked!

username: we bullied him into only wearing sweatshirts and jeans omg 😭😭

username: thats what he gets for his horrendous style…

pierregasly: imagine you as a photographer 😂

charles_leclerc: hey! i’m not too bad!

username: yourusername pls help this poor man , he has very poor fashion taste🙏

username: ok this fit isn’t too bad, plain! but not that bad!

username: yourusername mother pls help father out

yourusername: i think the people want me to style you , haha !

charles_leclerc: my style can’t be that bad, no?

yourusername: it could use some improvement…

charles_leclerc: well, i’m open for suggestions!

yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; don’t worry ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna make sure he has a good wardrobe 😇!] [caption 2; designing n making some new pieces for his closet 😵‍💫]

charles_leclerc uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; the forced smile after i showed her some outfit ideas…] [caption 2; her real smile after i got her a latte for being patient w my poor fashion skills😁

liked by yourusername, carlossainz5, and others !

charles_leclerc: photo dump , but do you notice any new fashion improvements ? 😁

yourusername: much better than those horrendous blue and white pants …

charles_leclerc: they weren’t that bad

yourusername: cha…… they were horrid

username: wait…. he fr looks good

yourusername: he’s got a pretty face but thats just enhanced by the better fashion sense!😁

charles_leclerc: u think i’m pretty?😊

yourusername: ur my prettiest model

username: OH HELLO

username: hes 100% dating y/n bc thats an improvement from that horrid blue outfit 😭

username: muy buenos días y que vivan los hombres 😍 [very good morning and long live men]

username: his style is improving, everyone cheered!

username: the sigh of relief i just let out

carlossainz55: mate, you have everyone relieved from your new fashion improvements 🤣

charles_leclerc: and i can see why after i looked at my old outfits…

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, and others !

yourusername: the designer vs. the model 🌸

tagged; charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: where would my closet be w/o you, chérie…

yourusername: unfortunately, seen in the public

charles_leclerc: my favorite and the most prettiest designer ❤️

yourusername: you’re my favorite and the most prettiest model 💞

username: oh my goodness gracious me

username: STOPP THEYRE SO CUTE😖😖

username: she got him a good pair of glasses thank u queen y/n

username: them at the basketball game together 🥹🥹🥹🥹

username: we’re abt to get the best charles outfits thank u y/n😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

yourbestfriend: watch your back sharl she was mine first

charles_leclerc: womp womp she’s mine now

yourusername: ladies, ladies, there’s enough of me to go around ( btw yourbestfriend come over asap i need to do another fitting on u )

[mattslolita]

「 dealer!chris sturniolo 」 ⤷ collection.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

guide ᝰ.ᐟ

─── 💌 - smut, ❤‍🩹 - angst, 🧸 - fluff

—————————————————————————————————

꒰ headcanons! ꒱

dealer!chris 1 🧸❤‍🩹💌

dealer!chris 2 🧸💌

dealer!chris & bambi!reader's playlist

dealer!chris & bambi!reader moodboard by @fawnchives ᡣ𐭩

dealer!chris & bambi!reader moodboard 2 by @chrispotatos ᡣ𐭩

dealer!chris & bambi!reader moodboard 3 by @sturniqloo ᡣ𐭩

—————————————————————————————————

꒰ blurbs & shorts! ꒱

dealer!chris finally letting bambi!reader smoke 🧸

dealer!chris asking matt how he feels about bambi!reader 🧸

sleepovers w dealer!chris 🧸

dealer!chris jealous of bambi!reader cooking for matt 🧸

dealer!chris praising bambi!reader while she sucks him off 💌

bambi!reader riding dealer!chris, but makes her slow down 💌

dealer!chris biting bambi!reader's tits 🧸

dealer!chris forcing bambi!reader to bake with her 🧸

bambi!reader falling asleep on dealer!chris's lap 🧸

bambi!reader telling her friends she doesn't know what they are ❤‍🩹🧸

dealer!chris seeing bambi!reader after two weeks ❤‍🩹🧸

soft sex w dealer!chris & bambi!reader 💌🧸

bambi!reader trying to watch comfort show but dealer!chris is giving her hickies

bambi!reader trying to get dealer!chris's attention 🧸

dealer!chris finding out bambi!reader plays volleyball

dealer!chris & bambi!reader leaving a party due to her discomfort 🧸

dealer!chris & bambi!reader's first time having sex 💌

dealer!chris throwing bambi!reader's stuffy when cuddling 🧸

bambi!reader ignoring dealer!chris cause he was talking with another girl

dealer!chris admiring how bambi!reader gets along with his brothers 🧸

dealer!chris surprising bambi!reader with a rose gold 'b' necklace 🧸

dealer!chris making out with bambi!reader after he eats her out

bambi!reader's first time high 🧸

dealer!chris praising bambi!reader's body 🧸

dealer!chris shutting down a rude customer towards bambi!reader 🧸

bambi!reader distancing herself from dealer!chris ❤‍🩹

dealer!chris worrying bambi!reader is too good for him ❤‍🩹

dealer!chris shutting down someone flirting with bambi!reader

bambi!reader on the stream for the first time 🧸

dealer!chris feeling intimidated by matt, so he makes out with bambi!reader 🧸

dealer!chris admiring bambi!reader's natural hair 🧸

dealer!chris getting possessive over the streams comments about bambi!reader 🧸

bambi!reader showing up to volleyball with hickeys

dealer!chris & bambi!reader showering together 🧸

dealer!chris snorting lines off bambi!reader

dealer!chris and bambi!reader having matching halloween costumes 🧸

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆

( EARLY dealer!chris & bambi!reader )

dealer!chris sneaking into bambi!reader's window 🧸

dealer!chris stalking bambi!reader's socials

dealer!chris taking bambi!reader on one of the first dates after fucking 🧸

bambi!reader riding dealer!chris's thigh 💌

dealer!chris eating bambi!reader out for the first time 💌

dealer!chris taking bambi!reader's virginity 💌

chris fucking bambi in the empty locker room after her volleyball game 💌

bambi!reader is too impatient on a deal with dealer!chris 💌

—————————————————————————————————

꒰ fics! ꒱

meet me at our spot - 1, 2 🧸💌

sweater weather 🧸

get it together ❤‍🩹

just to see you smile 🧸

—————————————————————————————————

[pdflayn]

Ride Me (954)

Max Verstappen x Reader !

Wherein: It's reader’s day off and a non-race week for Max. Max spends his day streaming and playing with his friends and reader spends her time waiting patiently for Max. But he was taking too long. Warnings: thigh riding bcs thick thighs save lives especially if it's max verstappen’s. praise kink. not sure if there's more.

It was a long day— it's been 2 hours since Max has been streaming with his friends, playing on the simulator non-stop, barely giving you attention. Yes, it's been a long day. You've been bored since the moment you woke up because it was your day off, you had nothing to do and nothing to make you occupied even if Max is there. You've been contemplating on disturbing him but you couldn't do it, the least you've been doing is giving him snacks like a toddler busy playing and all he ever says is ‘thank you’ not even giving you a kiss. You ruffled your hair in frustration and just decided to watch a movie instead, hoping it can cure your boredom. But you were doomed, every scene just kept reminding you of him. You were beyond needy, you're craving for his touch. You've been neglected half of the day and you’ve had enough.

You marched your way to Max’s streaming room, taking a peak and seeing him focused on his game, hearing a few curses from time to time. You even contemplated if you're really going to get inside and get what you want or let him enjoy his time with his friends for a while. But you shaked those thoughts and took a step inside. Max was wearing headphones so he didn't really notice that someone came in until he saw the chat going crazy with comments saying that you were inside the room, you even saw comments where they say you look so pretty which made you blush and smile as you went closer to Max’s gaming chair.

“Hi baby, you okay?” he asked, still focused on his game. You sneak your arms on his neck and place a kiss on his cheek before nodding. He continued on playing and you kept giving him small kisses on his face. You saw the chat going crazy with what you're doing and of course, Max sees them as well. You know how possessive Max can be when it comes to you. “Stop,” he whispers quietly enough so it can't be heard in the stream as he places a hand to block his mic but loud enough for you to hear. You only responded with a chuckle.

“Turn off your camera if you don't want them to see me,” you paused for a bit as you traced a finger on the compression shirt that he was wearing. “if you don't want them to see what we're going to do.” You finished your sentence as you placed another kiss on his cheek. He panicked and immediately turned off his stream when you straddled his lap. “Damn it, woman. Congratulations, you'll be on the headlines soon enough.” Max smirks as he finally gives in. You see, that's the thing, he would always give you what you want. You don't even need to beg for it, but there are times he makes you beg of course. And this is one of those times.

“If you wanted me to fuck you so bad, you could've just told me. No need to put on a show, baby.” He says as he holds your hips, guiding you to grind on his half-hard cock. You bit your lip as you felt a shiver down your spine. The friction between the clothed parts of yours and Max just made you even more needy to his touch. Max places one hand on your nape as he forced you closer, crashing his lips to yours, kissing you feverishly. Your tongues fought for dominance but Max would always win, he is achampion after all. “Max, I need you.. Please.” You whimper in between kisses, making Max smirk. “My baby is so needy. I'm sorry for not giving you and your pretty pussy enough attention today.”

You only hummed as a response, still moving your hips on his now hard cock. You can feel him under his sweatpants, pretty sure soon enough he can feel how wet you are as well. “God, you're so wet already.” Max whispers as he sneaked a hand inside your shorts. You can feel his fingers flipping through your wet folds. His then snaps the waistband of your shorts, asking permission to remove them along with your panties. He slowly took them of, rubbing your thighs from time to time. Teasing the shit out of you.

He placed a kiss on your ear. “Ride my thighs, baby. Make a mess like you always do.” You moaned at his request. Oh how you love to ride those thick thighs of his. It was your favorite thing to do to past time even before.

You fixed your position on his thigh. You naked cunt starting to soak his pants as you start to move your hips back and forth. You moaned as Max held your hips to go faster. “Feeling good baby? You're already so messed up, I haven't even started yet.” You gripped on his shoulder for support as you felt something build up in your stomach. You were reaching your high, your thighs starting to quiver as you clench on nothing. “You're so pretty, baby. You look so perfect.” He says as he kisses you. “Come on baby, let go. Cum on my thighs. Make a fucking mess.”

“Max.. Fuck.. Please..” You tried to form words but most were inaudible as you reached your high just by riding his thigh. “Ah fuck!” you screamed as you felt a wave of pleasure flowing through you. Max showers you with wet and sloppy kisses on your neck as he helps you ride your climax.

“Let's hope my PR team won't be as furious as they were with the car sex extravaganza from before.”

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 IF I WAS BORN A BLACKTHORN TREE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: it's finally the night of the event you've been preparing so ardently for. it's going as well as it can be considering the circumstances—or it is until dazai osamu shows up and throws you off your game. suddenly confused and concerned, you can't help but wonder if maybe things aren't what they seemed with the civilian you've grown so attached to.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART THREEEEEEEEE!!! hehehe we finally have some major plot development here <.< i was rlly excited for this chapter it was one of the ones i was looking forward to most when plotting the series. anyway, tae some more of reader being THE it girl ever - actually i was rlly excited for this because i havent really had the chance to showcase pmreader in her element the canon universe so i had fun with it here

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: lots of politics, dazai has the beginning of a panic attack, jealousy on both ends

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Chuuya asks, leaning over the center console to look at you, watching as you dab on lipstick in the mirror. 

In the driver’s seat, Albatross snorts, and he sees how you hardly refrain from rolling your eyes—Chuuya has half a mind to use his ability to rattle the car while you’re finishing up your makeup just to piss you off, but he has a feeling that you’ll lose your shit if he does that. You’re about to head into the event being hosted by the government for that agency in Tokyo, and Chuuya is just not feeling good about it. He’s felt this way since you were finishing up preparations at the headquarters an hour ago, forcing his way into the car with you and Albatross before you left.

“Chuuya, your face has been plastered all over Japan’s most wanted for three years. How do you propose you walk in with me without confirming that the Mori Corp. is a front for the Port Mafia?” you sigh heavily.

Chuuya bristles. “I just don’t have the best feeling,” he says defensively. “Forgive me for being worried. Damn.”

Chuuya settles back against the middle seat in the back row, letting out a sharp puff of air and pointedly turning his head away. He stares ahead, mind racing—it’s barely been a week since the operation against the Ingawa-kai. His body is still sore, and he should probably still be on bed rest, but he wasn’t going to laze around his apartment while you’re out here still healing from having your stomach sliced open.

By him.

Well, you won’t say what caused the almost lethal injury, but Chuuya knows it was from when he was in his Corrupted state. Whether it was by accident or because Arahabaki targeted you when you approached him, it doesn’t matter—the guilt he feels remains the same.

“It’s just a government event, Chuuya,” you say, looking back at him. “I’ve been to hundreds of them, relax.”

Yeah, but never so soon after a major operation against a Yakuza syndicate. Tokyo is Shimazaki-kai territory—they’ve always worked closely with the Inagawa-kai, and he doubts they’ll take kindly to Port Mafia presence in their heartland after they just annihilated one of the branches of their biggest ally. 

“Just be careful,” Chuuya says quietly when he sees you’re about to step out of the car. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not Albatross,” you say dryly.

“The fuck did I do?” Albatross demands once the abrupt and uncalled-for insult registers, head snapping to the side to look at you.

You only give him a sharp smile and wag your fingers in a mocking wave before stepping out of the car and making your way to the steps of the city hall. Chuuya only feels slightly relieved at the sight of Kiyomasa Daichi of the Sun and Steel immediately making his way over to you to escort you into the building.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Chuuya is gnawing at his bottom lip, grateful that his gloves are preventing his nails from drawing blood from his palms. You’re right—you’ve done this hundreds of times before, attending these types of events since you were fifteen with Lippmann chaperoning, taking over them alone when you were sixteen just because of how impressed Lippmann was with how easily you were able to navigate the intricacies of political webs and veiled conversation. 

So, why is that nagging feeling still-

“Yo, what the fuck?” Albatross suddenly says, straightening up in his seat, eyes pinned on a figure making their way into the city hall.

Alarmed, Chuuya follows his gaze quickly, eyes widening when he registers what Albatross is seeing. “Isn’t that…?” 

Dazai Osamu. 

That civilian you’d been seeing for a few weeks. You cut him off a few days ago, Chuuya doubted it at first when you said you’d done it, but then he’d seen how much withdrawn you’d become the past few days. How you bought yourself a new phone with a new number. Chuuya feels guilty over that, too. He can see the way it’s tolled on you—you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet during meetings, constantly glancing down at your phone as if expecting messages from him—but Chuuya would also prefer this than to make you go through the same devastation he felt years ago that still weighs to this day.

“Yeah,” Albatross says, jaw tight. “The fuck is he doing here? It’s going to throw her off—there’s no way she knew this. What do we do?”

“We can’t do anything,” Chuuya says, pulling out his phone to warn you that your civilian is evidently attending this event even though he knows damn well you don’t check your phone while on missions like this. “Fuck. The Shimazaki-kai are attending this event. The Boss is still trying to settle things with them after our conflict with the Inagawa-kai—it’s not going well.”

“Yeah,” Albatross scoffs. “Apparently, the oyabun’s daughter was married to one of the Inagawa-kai’s shatei. We’re probably gonna end up at war with them too—heard that they took in most of the Inagawa-kai’s refugees from our operation.”

Shit. 

That Chuuya didn’t know. Family is everything to the Yakuza syndicates—if the head of the Shimazaki-kai married off his daughter to one of the sons of the head of the Inagawa-kai… they’re a lot more tightly aligned than Chuuya initially thought. Attack on one is attack on all, or however that saying goes. Even if they don’t know that you’re the one that ordered the operation, they know you’re an executive of the Port Mafia, and that would be enough…

“They’ll be watching her like a fucking hawk,” Chuuya says, his throat swollen. “If they’re smart…”

If they’re smart, they’ll take you out now.

“I should go in,” Chuuya says, fingers curling around the handle of the door.

“Don’t,” Albatross tells him, giving Chuuya a short look. “If you blow her cover in there, it’ll fuck the Mafia over completely. We can’t lose our foothold in the Diet. Not with this bill about to pass through.”

Chuuya takes in a short, shaky breath, pulling off his hat and running his fingers through his hair. “If they see her with him-”

God, he can’t even finish the sentence, looking down to see his hands covered in familiar blood, a cold body in his arms. He-

“Chuuya,” Albatross says, twisting around to face him, reaching back to grab Chuuya’s hair and force him to look up and away from his bloodied hands. “She’s smart, she’ll be fine. She won’t seek him out.”

“And what if he goes up to her?” Chuuya hisses.

Albatross looks away grimly. “… Let’s just hope he doesn’t.”

Dazai feels distinctly out of place as he makes small talk with two House Representatives. He plays his part well, that’s for sure—he can feel Hinami hanging off his arm, watching him with wide eyes, stammering over words whenever she’s addressed by either of the politicians—but he feels like he looks like a fraud. Like everyone can tell that he’s just talking out of his ass and hoping for the best. Like everyone knows that he doesn’t belong.

He knows that he’s only in his own head about it. The two Representatives he’s talking to treat him like he’s one of their own and not a college student who doesn’t know jack shit about what he’s talking about. He supposes he has you to thank for that—knowing what to look for, it’s easy to pick out who belongs and who doesn’t, and because of that, it’s easy for him to figure out how to belong. Ayato sticks out like a sore thumb from where he’s trying a little too hard to talk to one of the Councillors, Dazai thinks Hinami would be too if she wasn’t attached to him.

He misses you. It’s only been a few days, but he misses you badly. His lips tingle from where you’d kissed him that night, and he can still feel the weight of your body on his. He misses you, and this event just makes him think even more of you. All of these people, this whole event, it all reminds him of you and Dazai can’t help but wonder if he’d feel more comfortable here with you at his side.

“I have to ask, Dazai-san,” one of the representatives—Hayashi, if Dazai remembers correctly—suddenly asks, drawing him from his thoughts. “Where did you get your suit? The tailor that works at the warehouse I usually get mine ended up quitting recently, and I’m looking for a new one.”

“Kido’s boutique in Nishi-ku,” Dazai tells him, a bit surprised when he watches the man’s eyes widen a bit in astonishment. “You know about it?”

“Who doesn’t? How did you manage to get a fitting with him?” the other man—Sato?—sighs, envy edging into his tone. “Kido-san is so selective with his clients. He turned me away when I went in for a fitting.” 

Oh, Dazai thinks, surprised. He figured that Kido’s boutique was high-class, but the fact that even people like Hayashi and Sato, who were very clearly well off with notably important positions in society as two of the more vocal members of the House of Representatives, couldn’t even get a fitting with the man leaves Dazai a bit put off.

“My brother-in-law got a fitting with him a few months ago for his son’s wedding,” Hayashi says, looking more at Sato now as he speaks. “He’s on the board of the Age of Blue Company and even he had to pull strings to get the appointment. Cost him nearly a million yen.”

Dazai has to physically force himself not to blanch at his words. Nearly a million yen—that’s more than what Dazai made in two months back when he was working full time and for a suit that he’s probably going to wear once. 

Ridiculous. 

Dazai hates rich people.

He can feel Hinami’s eyes on him, the way her arm tightens around his. Dazai wishes it was you on his arm instead. Or maybe him on yours, he’s not picky. He doesn’t even know why she’s attached herself like this to him—they’d make more progress splitting up. They’re seriously limiting their scope by only having two opportunities to talk to people but Hinami has been intent on staying at Dazai’s side no matter how much he urges her to go off and talk to people on her own.

Observe. Small talk. Gather information.

Not hard, not really. Dazai is good at putting on masks and blending in with people, and you certainly made it easier by making him look the part, but it doesn’t change the discomfort he feels, the lingering fear that people can see right through him. He likes to play the role of the clown because it distracts people from looking too deep, but that’s not an option in a setting like this, and he thinks people are still seeing him as a clown but for all of the wrong reasons: he’s dressed up in clothes that feel more like a costume than an outfit, he’s talking about subjects that go over his head even after he’s studied them in preparation for this, his face is stretched into a smile that feels foreign on his face. 

He hasn’t made much progress with gathering any useful information. Either he’s prodding at the wrong people, or they’re being extra careful not to let anything slip—could be both. Professor Ui gave them an overview of the important figures that are going to be in attendance and the ultimate goal would be to eventually talk with the majority leader in the House of Representatives and the minority leader in the House of Councillors. They were warned to keep a wide berth from Kiyomasa Daichi, an executive of the Age of Blue Company’s board—evidently the Ivory Eagle’s biggest target for this event. So Dazai supposes he’s among the right people right now, at least, because Hayashi just mentioned that his brother-in-law is on the board of the company.

The right people. Unless they find out what Dazai is here for and then-

“Tendo-kun,” an unfamiliar female voice calls from behind the two men he’s making conversation with.  “I was hoping you’d be here.”

Hayashi immediately cuts off his conversation with Sato, whirling around with a wide smile to face a pretty young woman with dark hair and darker eyes, red lips curled into a too-sweet smile as she comes to stand between the two of them, giving both Dazai and Hinami a curious look. 

“Noriko-san, I didn’t think you’d be here tonight. I thought your father was only sending Kiyomasa to rep the company,” Hayashi says easily, hooking his arm into the woman’s and looking down at her, enamored.

Kiyomasa. Dazai has to force himself not to react to the name. Hinami is not quite as subtle, drawing in a sharp breath that makes Dazai nearly wince because the woman, Noriko, clearly catches it from how she tilts her head to the side, looking over the two of them. 

Your father was only sending Kiyomasa…

Her father must be Mishima Yukio, the CEO of the Age of Blue, and that means-

Mafia. 

Exactly what they were meant to avoid right in front of them and Hinami is not being slick. Dazai can feel her fingers trembling from where she’s holding his arm.

“You know I only come to these events for one person,” Noriko laughs airly, leaning into Hayashi as she looks up at him before turning her attention back to Dazai and Hinami. “Who are your friends? Unfamiliar faces…”

Luckily, Hayashi is more focused on the first thing Noriko said. “No way,” he says, eyes bright and voice low and conspiratory. “She’s here. I thought for sure she wouldn’t show at this after everything that happened between this agency and the Mori Corporation a few months ago.”

“I think that’s exactly why she did come,” Noriko hums with an easy smile, lashes fluttering as she looks back at Dazai. “Mishima Noriko. And you are?”

Dazai doesn’t even get the chance to respond—which is for the best—because in an instant, there’s a commotion on the other side of the room, drawing the attention of all of the attendees of the gala. Noriko, Hayashi, and Sato all turn around, and Dazai takes a slight step forward to peer around them, trying to see what’s going on.

It doesn’t take long for Dazai to pinpoint it, mouth drying and heart stilling in his chest as his eyes land on you at the center of all of the attention.

You walk away from your previous company feeling grim, sure this is what you came here for—to meet with the more influential individuals attending the event tonight and help ease them into an opinion more aligned with the Port Mafia’s interests—but your heart’s just not in it. It’s easy to keep the smile on your face as you make casual conversation with House Representative Yamamoto, one of the key swing votes you have to bring to your side, but it’s much harder to make the smile reach your eyes.

Kiyomasa claimed that most of the swing votes are already falling in your favor, so long as Yamamoto’s and a few other controlling ones can be secured, you’ll be on a quick path to ensuring that the military bill is quashed in the Lower House. 

But you find yourself distracted. Your thoughts drift mid-conversation to a familiar pair of warm brown eyes and a soft smile, your heart yearns for something you know you can’t have, and it makes you feel sick. Luckily in situations like these, your body works on autopilot—you smile when you’re meant to smile, you laugh when you have to laugh, you make witty comments and sly remarks to push the swing votes your way—but you just want to go back to your apartment.

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to be here tonight,” Representative Yamamoto hums, waving down a server to grab the two of you flutes of champagne. He looks amused as he turns his attention back down to you, dark eyes glittering. He’s handsome, you think, with dark hair and darker eyes, only a few years older than you—maybe if you can’t convince him with your words, you’ll convince him in bed. “Not after everything that happened between the Mori Corporation and this… what is this agency called again?”

You laugh—genuinely this time, not one of those airy automatic ones. You take a sip of your champagne and look at Yamamoto. “Ah, Yamamoto-san, how terrible of you, not even knowing the name of the agency we’re all here to celebrate,” you tease lightly.

“Shame, shame, I know,” Yamamoto sighs, leaning against the pillar where the two of you are standing.

“The OCDA,” you tell him, looking up at him through your lashes as you study his face. 

Organized Crime Defense Agency, Mishima is truly taking far too long to eliminate them. The Sun and Steel were supposed to put them in the ground months ago after they drew attention to the Mori Corporation, trying to accuse the business of being a front for the Port Mafia. You had to lay low on business for months because of it, knowing that one wrong move could lead to a huge exposé from one of the big journalism groups in Yokohama, and if that happens, the government will have no choice but to intervene. The OCDA didn’t have proof to back their allegations, but if one of those journalism groups managed to get their hands on some…

The Port Mafia isn’t exactly in the position to be dealing with wars against major Yakuza syndicates, the Guild, and the government all at once. It could spell the end for it.

“Ah, yes, that’s it,” Yamamoto says absently. “The Commissioner has been staring at you since you walked in.”

Of course. Five months ago, you dedicated every waking moment to ruining the reputation of the OCDA—you had to do it. If people started believing their accusations, even if there was no evidence, it could cause trouble for the Port Mafia. You’d tarnished their public perception so completely that it literally took until this operation against the Scarlet Gang and the government going above and beyond to commemorate their success for the public to start viewing them in a better light. 

“I’m not surprised,” you tell him. “He still clearly holds a grudge over what happened a few months ago.”

“Unjustly, too,” Yamamoto notes. “They were the ones that chose to target the Mori Corporation with no grounds. I don’t know what they were thinking and to act like the victim after being the one to start it… Deplorable.”

Interesting, you think. 

You look at Yamamoto under a new light, tilting your head to the side. 

Is he just saying that because he knows it’s something you want to hear? 

Or is that how he really feels? 

The whole incident between the OCDA and the Mori Corporation has been a hot topic amongst the members of the National Diet. You’d feared that the allegations were going to severely harm your position amongst the Representatives and Councillors. To some extent, it had; a lot of the people who wanted the Mori Corporation to lose sway over the members of the Diet used it as a way to try to turn people against you—but you’d been able to salvage it. Still, even to this day, it’s a contentious topic that most politicians don’t willingly bring up. 

Just as you’re about to open your lips to respond, pry a little bit more into his mindset before you say something riskier. You catch sight of an achingly familiar face from the corner of your eye.

What-

All conscious thought leaves your mind as you turn your head to the side, trying to figure out if you’re seeing what you think you’re seeing.

Dazai?

Your gaze settles on none other than the boy who has been plaguing your thoughts since you left his apartment a few days ago. He’s standing off to the other side of the room dressed in the suit that you bought him—you can hardly bring yourself to draw your gaze from him. He looks… stunning, actually, at ease in a way that you never would have expected him to be in this setting. 

He’s talking to Hayashi, Sato and Noriko—three people that have close ties with the Port Mafia, much to your distress—the smile on his lips is easy and casual, body language relaxed. He looks right at home. A part of you itches to walk right over to him, but you know you shouldn’t. There are too many eyes on you at this event, enemies and allies alike. You don’t want to draw unwanted attention to Dazai, not when you’ve cut him off to protect him from this very sort of attention. 

Your eyes linger on him as he laughs at something Hayashi says, breath catching in the back of your throat—and god, you know you’re being obvious. You need to force your attention back to Yamamoto and at least try to remember what you were talking about to play this off. But-

But then he looks at you.

Dazai’s eyes drift from Hayashi right to where you’re standing with Yamamoto as if he already knew you were standing there. He looks surprised, and you realize that he’s probably more surprised that you’re looking back at him, like he didn’t expect you to notice him. 

How could you not notice him? 

And as soon as his gaze meets yours, you know that’s all an act. You can see the way his eyes are a bit lost, lonely. You know he feels severely out of place and you long walk over there to him. All thoughts of keeping attention off of him out the window if it means he doesn’t look so uncomfortable—you yearn to see the bright look in his eyes that you’d become so accustomed to, feel his smile against your lips. You’d known it was a mistake to kiss him that night, that you’d already let yourself indulge too much, and taking that next step would just hurt you both but…

Just like now, all reasonable thought seems to be thrown out the window whenever he’s around.

You watch as something akin to hurt flashes through his eyes, and you withhold a wince as you remember all of the lies you told him—leaving the country, not having time to text him. You’d even gotten a new phone and a new number so you wouldn’t be tempted to read his messages. Fuck, why does he always show up at the most inopportune moments? This must’ve been why he’d asked you about the military bill. This was the event his journalism professor wanted him to attend. How did you not put this together sooner?

Then, his gaze hardens, and he looks away, shifting to the side as if to pointedly show off someone you hadn’t noticed before—a girl hanging off of his arm. Pretty. Big dark eyes and light brown hair, a soft expression. Pretty, you think again, sickeningly civilian, probably another student at the university he attends. Even being dolled up in a gown and makeup can’t hide that.

Perfect for him, then. Sickeningly civilian. Just like Dazai. They’d be good for each other—live out long, sickeningly civilian lives with each other. Go to cafes and talk about all of their sickeningly civilian classes, discuss all of the books and poems they read. It’s perfect, it’s what you want for him, it’s why you cut him off. So he’s not in danger by being associated with you, so you don’t drag him into the dark and get him killed. 

So, where is the anger coming from? 

Your jaw is so clenched that you can feel your teeth grinding together, knuckles tense around your flute of champagne. Your tongue feels itchy, your throat feels swollen, your chest is unbearably tight—you have to force yourself to remain rooted next to Yamamoto, and your body twitches to walk over there. You’re so lost for logic that you can’t even fumble for an excuse to explain the sudden bout of anger. 

You try. You tell yourself that you’re angry because he shouldn’t be at an event like this. You tell yourself that you’re angry because his journalism professor should know better than to send college students to gather information at an event where several mafias are going to be in attendance. You tell yourself that you’re angry because he’s always coming around to fuck things up for you, that he shouldn’t have wormed his way into your life.

But it’s all flimsy and weak because the color flooding you right now isn’t red. 

It’s green. 

“I think you should go over there,” Yamamoto says, amused, nodding over to where you’re looking as he leans in closer to you. He keeps his voice down, luckily, but you can’t help the distress that sweeps through you when you realize that you are being that obvious.

“Allow me to pretend not to be so obvious, Yamamoto-san,” you sigh.

Yamamoto laughs, tossing you a wink. “I’m not that kind,” he says lightly. “I’ll send you an email later if we don’t get to talk again tonight. I’d like to discuss the more… minute details of the proposition you were offering.”

Your smile is a bit more genuine now as you turn your attention back to him.

“Of course,” you say easily. “A pleasure talking to you, as always.”

“And you,” Yamamoto replies. “Talking to you is always a highlight of these dreadfully boring galas.”

“You flatter me,” you laugh, waving off the compliment.

“Me? Never.” Yamamoto winks at you again, then leans in to murmur, “Best of luck.”

Yamamoto wanders off without another word, and your gaze drifts back over to Dazai and you find yourself actually contemplating it. You contemplate going over there and forcing that girl away, forcing him to spend the night at your side instead. You contemplate ruining everything by drawing all of the attention in the room onto him. You contemplate putting him in danger just to make this ugly green emotion go away.

You grab yourself another drink instead.

Dazai can hardly pay attention to the conversation at hand. No matter how much he tries to keep the conversation going between the two Representatives and Mishima and Noriko, he finds that his gaze keeps drifting back over to where you’re standing on the other side of the room. 

You look beautiful. You always look beautiful, but there’s something… different tonight. You’re dressed in a sleek black dress rather than the expensive suits he’s become used to. It hangs off your shoulders, a slit up your thigh; there’s a pretty smile on your face and a playful glitter in your eyes as you entertain conversation with people. You’re always beautiful—whether you’re in one of your ridiculously expensive suits or an equally expensive dress—but there’s something different tonight that makes him unable to keep his attention off of you for long.

In your suits, it’s a polished type of beauty. Cold. Untouchable. There’s an air about you that few would dare try to disturb. He noticed it that first night when everyone at the bar gave you a wide berth. At the cafe, it was the same—your presence screams that you’re someone important and someone who should not be bothered. Even at the library, though his classmates clearly wanted to approach you and talk to you, they were all too intimidated to try. Everyone waited for you to leave before badgering Dazai with questions.

This is different. Just as refined but untouchable in a different way. Your smiles are sly and inviting, your body language smooth and languid; people gravitate toward you rather than avoid you, but none dare to draw too close. If intimidation was the factor in other situations, nerves are in this one—you’re warm and enticing but still too elusive for anyone to dare to try to capture. Dazai can see it in the way they watch you longingly, fingers itching to reach out toward you, but they freeze before they can, like you’re some otherworldly being that they think they shouldn’t taint with their touch.

And Dazai is so conflicted. 

He yearns to go over to you. He wants to be the one to draw close to you, wants to see the expression on everyone else’s face when he’s the one that breaks through that invisible barrier, wants to slip his arm around your waist, hold you in the way that he knows other people are fantasizing about right now. He’s missed you the past few days; he can still feel the weight of your body on top of his, his lips tingling from where they’d been pressed against yours. If he closes his eyes long enough, he can almost imagine your fingers entwined with his hair, holding him close as your lips slide to his jaw. 

But he’s angry. Or maybe he’s not angry, maybe he’s just hurt. Maybe both. Dazai can’t tell. He’s never been good at understanding his own emotions, he just knows that he doesn’t like it. Wants it to go away.

Wants you to explain.

Why did you lie? The thought makes his stomach churn so uncomfortably that it makes the alcohol he’s been drinking come up his throat. Why did you lie? Since he saw you before, he’s been on the brink of collapse. He wants to go back to his apartment and forget all about this shitty event and your betrayal, wants to curl up in his futon and sleep before the gaping hole in his chest starts to spread.

He should have known this would happen. Every time Dazai Osamu has ever come to want something, it’s always lost the moment he obtains it. This has been true since the moment he was born, but somehow it eluded him the weeks he spent pining after you, eluded him the night you spent at his apartment sharing kisses and gentle touches. 

The cloud that’s been hanging over him since the night he met you at the bar, the one that you’ve successfully pushed away twice, is heavier than ever and Dazai wants to be rid of it. He’s so tired. Everything feels amplified now that he’s been given a taste of what he could have had with you, only to find you lied to be free of him just like so many others have. Ever since Odasaku died, he’s been alone and Dazai just doesn’t know how much more of it he can take. And he feels selfish, he feels selfish for wanting to go before he can fulfill his friend’s final request but he just can’t do it anymore.

It’s just too much for him, and Dazai isn’t going to finish this novel anyway. It doesn’t matter how many English classes he takes, doesn’t matter how much time he spends reading to teach himself how to write—Dazai will never be able to finish Odasaku’s book. How can he? A book focused on the human experience? Dazai is, unfortunately missing a key characteristic necessary to successfully write this novel.

Dazai has always struggled to understand the minds of people around him. He’s smart, and he can read people easily, but he’s never been able to understand them. It’s why he’s found himself an outcast time and time again: no matter how hard he tries, and he does try, he tries so hard, people can tell something is… off about him. His laughs are too loud and too hollow. His eyes are too black and too empty. His smiles are too wide and too fake. 

When he was younger, kids were cruel about it—they would point it out and laugh at him, and when he tried harder to fit in with them, they would point that out too. He couldn’t win, no matter how hard he tried. Now that he’s older, people aren’t quite as blatant with it, but Dazai is far from stupid and he can see the looks people give him, can see the way they actively avoid him, the way they whisper.

Dazai’s gotten better at masking himself. It’s hard for people to tell at first glance now that something is off about him—his smiles have become smoother and less strained, and he’s taught himself to laugh light and airy. He can make do with small talk and acquaintances, even able to charm people into his bed, assuming they aren't put off when he keeps the bandages on.

The trouble comes when they stick around too long, when they start noticing the cracks in his mask; he can evade it at first, become loud and funny, take on the role of a clown so they can focus on that instead of the gaping void within him, threatening to consume anyone that dares to come near. But he can only play that role for so long before people realize something is up; whether his smile fades at the wrong moment or he talks a bit too long, something clues them into the fact that something is wrong with Dazai, and they inevitably disappear without a word, avoid him on the streets if they happen to run into him.

Or they lie to him and tell him that they’re going abroad for a while just to be rid of him.

Dazai is drawn out of his own thoughts when he realizes that all four pairs of eyes are on him—Hayashi, Sato, Noriko, and Hinami are all looking at him expectantly, and he realizes, anxiously, that one of them must have directly addressed him but he was so lost in thought that he hadn’t even been listening. He racks his brain for a response, desperately trying to figure out if he’d subconsciously picked up on the conversation, but the longer the silence draws on, the harder it becomes for him to push away the numbness spreading from his core to his limbs.

Before he can fumble out a non-response, an achingly familiar voice intrudes on the conversation.

“Hayashi-kun, Sato-kun, I’ve been meaning to speak with you two,” you say with an easy smile as you make your way over to the small group, and Dazai can hardly breathe at the sight of you so close, unwittingly rescuing him yet again. “Noriko-chan.”

Your smile is fonder as your gaze lands on Noriko and the cold and aloof woman suddenly looks starstruck by your presence, enamored. Dazai’s chest tightens as he looks between the two of you.

You ignore his presence completely.

“Hime,” Noriko breathes out. Dazai startles at the honorific—it was startling hearing Kido, and the attendants call you it at the boutique, but it’s even more jarring hearing it come from a woman that Professor Ui suspects of being a mafia heiress. “I heard you would be here. I convinced my father to let me come.”

“Just for me?” Your voice is light and teasing, you reach out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Noriko’s ear, and Dazai’s blood pressure spikes. “You’re so sweet, Noriko-chan.”

“You didn’t come to Arima-kun’s wedding,” Noriko pouts in a way that’s so exaggerated that it nearly makes Dazai roll his eyes and gag. “I’ve missed you.”

“Ah,” you sigh. “I’m afraid I was busy. I heard it was fun. I regret not being able to be there.”

You notably don’t tell Noriko that you also missed her, and it makes Dazai’s lips quirk up in smug amusement. 

No, he stops himself, reminding himself that he’s angry at you and he should not care about any of this. In fact, he should walk away. He should. But his feet betray him, they keep him rooted to the ground when you finally turn your gaze onto him.

“Who are your new friends?” you ask casually.

Dazai has to physically stop himself from flinching at your words, the way you pretend you don’t know him, just like so many people have before. His chest aches, his throat feels swollen, and he feels embarrassed—he doesn’t even know why he feels embarrassed, but he can feel heat spread across his cheeks at your words. For a second, Dazai swears he sees regret flash through your eyes, but it’s gone so quickly that he thinks he imagined it.

“Koda Hinami.” Next to Dazai, Hinami stumbles over her words, face pink as she bows her head in respect, “It’s, uh, a pleasure to meet you…”

You don’t even acknowledge Hinami, your gaze doesn’t budge from Dazai, and you don’t offer your name at Hinami’s unspoken request for it. Hinami lets out an embarrassed noise in the back of her throat as she looks away. Dazai has half a mind to stay silent, to ignore you in the same way you ignore Hinami, but he finds his lips moving before he can stop them.

“Dazai Osamu.” He’s grateful that his voice is steadier than how he feels, cool and short, unlike the rampage of emotions tearing through his chest. 

You tilt your head to the side as you look over him. You reach out, pinching the material of his suit jacket between your fingers—as you do, your knuckles brush his bandaged skin, and Dazai has to physically withhold a shiver at the touch.

“One of Kido’s,” you note, and there’s a small smile on your lips as if you’re sharing an inside joke with him. “You must have friends in high places—he doesn’t often take appointments without referrals.”

You’re mocking him.

As if pretending he’s a stranger isn’t enough, you’re standing there mocking him too. Dazai doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry, everything feels all twisted inside of him—he wants to go home.

“Not a friend.” 

The jab is cold and pointed. It goes over the head of the other four, but he watches the way your smile falters at it, and he savors it even if he does know it hardly stings you in comparison to the knives he feels being jabbed into his chest and back.

“Hm,” is all you say in response, gaze sliding away from him as if he’s no longer of any interest to you. You look back at Hayashi and give him a smile that makes Dazai want to throw up. “Dance with me?”

Hayashi rushes to take your extended hand, fumbling over a yes, and you don’t even bother to spare another look at Dazai as you lead Hayashi onto the floor, where a few couples are already swaying around. Dazai can’t even force himself to look away from you, eyes pinned on how Hayashi’s hands rest on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Maybe he’s a bit petty when he turns to Hinami and offers his hand to her. For a second, the girl looks as if she’s going to shake her head no, too nervous to go to the dancefloor, but then other couples start taking your cue, grabbing a partner to take to the dancefloor.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Hinami whispers, panicking. “I don’t-”

“You’ll be fine,” Dazai says. “Follow my lead.”

Dazai also doesn’t know how to dance, but he thinks it should be easy enough. He observes the few people already settled on the dancefloor, watching their steps and the way they sway to the slow beat and then matches their pace and hand placement.

“I don’t know how you’re so good at this,” Hinami says quietly as he leads her in the dance. Dazai hardly pays attention to her, gaze cutting through the growing crowd of couples to find you. “I feel so in over my head. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing fine,” Dazai tells her absently, stiffening when he finally spots you not too far from him in deep conversation with Hayashi. “I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Hinami sighs. Dazai’s eyes linger at how low Hayashi’s hands dip down on your hips, how your heads are bowed together as you sway, speaking quietly in one another’s ear. It makes him sick, he can feel his stomach turn inside of him, he can feel something ugly and green spreading through his chest. “You look like a natural. Like you’re meant to be here with these people. I can hardly speak to any of them without stumbling over my words. I mean, did you see how that woman ignored me? … So embarrassing…”

Dazai’s breath hitches when you lift your face up a bit, so close to Hayashi that your noses almost brush. He can’t see the expression on your face, but he can see that you’re making eye contact with him, and it looks so intimate that Dazai feels that void in his chest start to spread to his limbs, his fingers feel numb and clunky against Hinami’s waist, and he nearly stumbles over one of the steps in the dance.

You look like you belong with him. High-class. Smooth. Charming. Wealthy. Dazai’s known you were out of his league since the day he met you at the bar, but actually getting a visual of what you would look like with someone of the same class as you—the people you interact with on a daily basis—makes him feel sorely inadequate. Any of the people at this event would kill for just a few seconds of your time, all of them wealthier and more influential than him, way more worth your time than a broke college student who can hardly talk himself off the edge of a bridge.

Why would he have ever thought he had a chance with you? Why would you waste any time with him? Why wouldn’t you pretend not to know him? Dazai would be embarrassed to associate with himself too. He can hardly even stand to look at himself in the mirror. 

He shouldn’t be as upset as he is. He should’ve expected this from day one. He doesn’t know why all of this hurts as much as it does.

Because it’s the first time he’s allowed himself to hope since Odasaku’s death.

The air getting to his lungs is thin and shallow. Dazai feels like he’s at the peak of a mountain where oxygen is few and far between. Hinami doesn’t seem to notice his distress from the way she’s still complaining about the event, but it’s hard for him to ground himself to the present. 

He’d allowed himself to hope.

The way you had immediately noticed his discomfort with the bandages and moved to try to make him more comfortable—no one has ever done anything like that for him, not since Odasaku died. 

The way you came to him when you were hurt. 

The way you helped him around his apartment and didn’t question the filth and mess, buying him food, replacing what he’d broken in his depressive episode.

The way you looked at him. 

The way you touched him.

The way you kissed him. 

He’d allowed himself to hope that maybe someone would accept him for who he is instead of running as soon as they see beneath the mask.

He had let himself hope. A fatal mistake. Always has been. Dazai should have known better.

Dazai needs to get out of here. He can hardly feel his fingers anymore, can feel the numbness spreading to his legs. His vision is blurring, his lungs are burning. He needs to go back home so he can let the black hole consume him in peace. He needs to be alone. He needs to-

Dazai doesn’t even notice the music tempo changing, nor the way people are swapping partners until he and Hinami are separated and drawn into a new dance. Dazai’s breath catches, caught off guard and still trying to ground himself.

“Why are you here?” 

Your voice meets his ears, quiet so as to not be heard above the music, you forcibly guide his body to move in step with yours. He stares down at you, brain not processing who’s standing in front of him. He can see the concern thinly veiled behind your eyes, the way your lips curve down.

“Dazai, snap out of it. Breathe.”

You. You’re here. You’re always here when he feels as if he’s finally going to let the void win, and Dazai just-

Dazai wants to scream.

Why are you always here to rescue him when he knows you’re just going to leave him?

“Why am I here?” Dazai finally forces himself to say, grateful that his voice is steadier than how he feels. “Why are you here? How was your trip abroad, hime?”

Any concern in your eyes disappears, and the grip you have on his waist tightens in a way that makes his breath catch. “Don’t call me that.”

Now a bit more coherent than he was when he was dancing with Hinami, he thinks he should be mortified by how you’re taking the lead. All of the other men are leading their partners in the dance, but he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed because he’s so focused on your hand on his waist and the way your fingers are laced with his. He’s mad at you, yes, but he has to actively remind himself of that because of the way you’re holding him. 

Dazai fears he is a weak man at heart.

“How was your trip abroad?” Dazai asks again, leaving off the title this time. He wants to know if you’ll lie to him. Again.

You watch him carefully for a moment, and then you sigh, shaking your head. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” you tell him.

Dazai’s jaw tightens, throat bobbing at your words. Doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that you didn’t even try to lie. Does know that it hurts hearing you admit that you lied to him. That you made up a shitty excuse so you could cut him off, ghost him like so many others have before. He lets out a shaky puff of air, shaking his own head as he tries to take a step away from you, intent on creating some distance between the two of you, but you don’t let him, your grip on his waist tightens again, hand sliding to the small of his back to force him flush to you again. His face heats up.

You tilt your head to the side as you look up at him as if daring him to make a scene. Dazai wants to. He does—just to embarrass you in front of all of your rich, upper-class friends—but more than that, he wants answers.

“Why?” he asks tightly.

“Stupid questions annoy me,” you say with a thin smile, being purposely obtuse.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Dazai refuses to humor the non-answer. “Why did you lie? Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to-”

Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to be with me?

Why did you have to give him hope?

Why did you have to be like all of the rest?

“It has nothing to do with what I want,” you finally sigh, voice quiet as you lead him into an outside spin, keeping him in pace with all of the other couples. “It’s complicated, Dazai.”

“Then uncomplicate it,” Dazai says immediately, body tense. “What did I do wrong? I thought-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you tell him, which only frustrates Dazai more because if he’s about to get the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, he thinks he might storm right off the dancefloor, leaving you here. “It’s just complicated, Dazai. I can’t uncomplicate it.”

“That’s not fair,” Dazai murmurs. “You kissed me, you-”

“You kissed me,” you correct.

“You kissed me back,” Dazai hisses, getting annoyed, “and you initiated the second kiss.”

“Dazai-”

“You know what,” Dazai laughs to himself, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve made it abundantly clear that you want nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not true,” you say immediately, but Dazai is already taking a step away, brushing your hand off of his waist and pulling his hand back. He can’t listen—he can’t—he can’t let himself hope again. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive it this time. “Dazai-”

“I need to go,” Dazai interrupts. 

He doesn’t wait for a response from you as he turns to walk off the floor, leaving you standing there alone. He can hardly breathe in the crowd, with you so close—he needs air. It feels shallow again, like it’s not getting to his lungs. He tells himself that this was to be expected, again, but the thought doesn’t calm him down this time. You don’t follow him off the dancefloor—he doesn’t know if he wanted you to or if it would just stress him out more.

“You’re so lucky,” a familiar voice sighs as soon as Dazai is off the dance floor. He feels unfocused as he looks at Sato. “I was trying so hard to position myself to switch with Hayashi for the partner swap.”

Dazai is annoyed. He is annoyed, and he is jealous and he is once again very acutely reminded of the fact that every single person in this room would kill for a few seconds of your time, once again very acutely reminded of his own inadequacy. He had known from day one that he didn’t have a shot with you but-

No. 

He’s not going to go down this rabbit hole again. 

“Well, she has no partner now,” Dazai says with a strained smile, ignoring the tightness in the chest and the way his vision blooms green. “You should go ask her to dance.”

Sato brightens. “You’re right,” he says, sparing a haste ‘thanks’ before rushing off to the dance floor.

Dazai doesn’t let himself linger long enough to see if you accept his extended hand, making his way out of the event room and down a nearby hall, hoping for some fresh air.

You don’t know where Dazai went, but he’s a sneaky bastard for sending Sato your way to distract you. You couldn’t blow him off without looking like an asshole, so you had to entertain him for a song before making an excuse. Dazai is nowhere to be seen now—not hanging near the walls, not hovering near the apps or drinks, not making small talk with any of the other politicians or businessmen in attendance.

Did he leave? 

No, he wouldn’t have. Your eyes trace around the room again as you make small talk with Noriko—he had to have gone somewhere, but where? You focus on a hallway leading out to the back of the city hall, tilting your head to the side. There, maybe? There are bathrooms back there, if you remember correctly, most people will probably use the ones in the entrance hall, but if he’s looking for somewhere quiet…

You excuse yourself from the conversation with Noriko and make your way across the room, careful to avoid the eyes of any of the other attendees who might try to steal you away for a talk. You get there without incident, luckily, because you think if someone tried to interrupt you, you might shatter the carefully crafted reputation you’ve built over the past six years. 

The hallway is dim and cool, a welcome reprieve from the stuffiness of the other room. You head straight for the men’s bathroom, hoping that your hunch is correct. Also hoping that there are no other men in the bathroom because that would be awkward—and you’d have to do some serious explaining because you can’t have anyone know you’re seeking out Dazai. 

You think you’ve done a pretty decent job in making sure people don’t realize you knew him before the event. Noriko and Hayashi have no suspicions, and if anyone was going to pick it up, it would be those two. You were casual enough with the positioning of the partner switch that it didn’t look like you were intentionally seeking him out, but you could see the way he was thinking himself into a panic attack, the girl with him obliviously babbling on as Dazai struggled to breathe. You suppose him being mad at you is preferable to him thinking himself into an abyss, but it’s just not settling right with you. 

You think that this is a mistake—you should let him think that you want nothing to do with him, should let him hate you and resent you so he can move on with his life—so why are you still turning down the hallway to get to the men’s bathroom? 

You blame Dazai. If he hadn’t shown up at this event and all but shoved himself in your face, purposely antagonized you by shoving that stupid civilian girl in your face, then everything would be fine. You would’ve evaded the places he frequents in Hodogaya-ku, and you’d have never crossed paths with him again. Both of you could’ve moved on with your lives as if you’d never met each other—but now-

You’re almost angry as you shove open the door to the men’s bathroom. 

No, you are angry, and it isn’t just because he’s shown up to the event and fucked up your plan to keep him out of your life. It’s also because you know why he’s here, and he’s a lot stupider than you thought he was. The suit for the event he’d mentioned his journalism professor wanted him to attend and the question about the bill… He’s here to gather intel for that professor of his, and the only reason why a bunch of students would be sent to an event like this in lieu of the actual journalists themselves is because they’re trying to seek out information that wouldn’t be easily acquired by known faces. Whether that’s information about insider opinions on the new bill or something else, it’s dangerous business. If the opinion of the wrong person gets out to the media and the public, there’ll be a witch hunt trying to figure out who let it loose, and all eyes will be on the unfamiliar faces. 

All eyes will be on Dazai.

He’s stupid.

The door slams against the wall hard, and your gaze cuts to the side, hardly focusing on Dazai’s surprised expression as he straightens from where he’s leaning over the sink. Your attention shifts from him to the stalls, making sure each of them is empty before shutting the door behind you and locking it.

“No,” Dazai says, shaking his head, jaw tight as he moves to leave the bathroom.

Your eye twitches when he tries to push past you and all of the rising frustration you’ve felt the past few weeks snaps like a taut cord that has been pulled at too much. Your hands dart out to grab his waist, fingers hooking in the belt loops to stop him before he can get past you. You watch as his eyes widen as you tug him closer before slamming him back against the bathroom door hard.

“What are you doing here?” you ask again, ignoring the look he’s giving you, lips parted in shock and pupils blown wide as he stares down at you. “Dazai, what are you doing here?”

Finally, he’s drawn out of whatever stupor he’s in, scoffing and looking away from you but not pushing you away.

“Really? You just came here to interrogate me some more?” he says bitterly. “Don’t you have better things to do? I’m sure there are plenty of people out there more worthy of your time.”

“What are you even talking about?” you ask, irritated. “I couldn’t care less about any of them. Stop avoiding the question, why are you here?”

Dazai looks conflicted at your words, and you don’t know why, but it’s really starting to piss you off. You feel like you should step away from him, give some space, but you can’t bring yourself to move. In fact, your grip on his slacks tightens.

“I told you I had that event to attend for my journalism class, I-”

“You didn’t tell me this was the event-”

“You didn’t ask! What does it matter?” Dazai demands, glaring at you.

You inhale sharply and let go of his belt loops, taking a step back, but Dazai doesn’t move to leave. He stays leaning against the bathroom door, staring at you as he waits for a response, but you don’t even know how to respond.

“It matters,” you finally say without giving any context, which evidently pisses him off from how he lets out a sharp puff of air.

“Why does it matter?” Dazai asks, raising his voice in a way that stresses you out because if anyone happens to come down this hall and find you in the bathroom with him, it’s going to cause issues. “Why does-Why won’t you explain anything? Why did you lie about going abroad? Why does it matter that I’m here?”

“Because you shouldn’t be here,” you hiss, not wanting to expand on it, but you can see the frustration rising on Dazai’s face, and you think it’s more important not to have him screeching for people to overhear. “Dazai, don’t you think there’s a reason that your professor didn’t come to this event himself and with his trained colleagues?”

Something shifts onto Dazai’s expression that you don���t like—a strange look caught between suspicion and wariness that you take note of. You misspoke somewhere but where? This conversation is risky—you don’t even know what his professor sent him and his classmates to get information about, how they were prepped for it, or what information they were given. What a mess.

“What are you talking about?” Dazai asks in a way that lets you know that he’s onto something.

You don’t respond for a moment, choosing your words carefully. “What do you think will happen if an unsavory opinion of one of these politicians gets out to the media, Dazai? These people have more money than you could ever dream of, connections with-” You cut yourself off abruptly, staring at him for a moment before saying tightly. “Connections with all types of people. Good and bad. They’ll find out who spread what was spoken at this event.”

“Isn’t this suit supposed to help me blend in?” His voice is so snide that you almost want to smack him. If he were anyone else-

You don’t even finish that thought. He’s not anyone else. He’s Dazai Osamu, a stupid civilian who has managed to worm his way into your life, for better or for worse. 

“Sure,” you agree tightly. “It makes them less concerned about your presence at the moment. But once they have something to be concerned about, you know who they’re going to remember? The boy in a poorly tailored suit who spoke too loudly and with far too many people. The girl in a thirty dollar dress from Muji who stumbled over all of her words and the boy that she latched herself onto.”

“And what exactly are they going to do if they figure out who leaked their shitty opinions?” Dazai asks, a challenging expression on his face as if he knows what the answer is but wants to hear you say it out loud. “Ui-sensei said-”

Ui. There aren’t many journalists with the surname Ui and if they’re here at this event…

“Ui?” you ask cooly. “Don’t tell me you mean Ui Koutarou.”

The surprise that flashes through Dazai’s eyes tells you all you need to know, and you can’t help the scoff you let out, a bitter feeling spreading through your chest. Ui Koutarou, one of the senior journalists at the Ivory Eagle—a group that’s been relentlessly trying to pin down the Mori Corporation as the business front for the Port Mafia. 

Is that what this is? 

The thought is as haunting as it is jarring, realizing that maybe this has all just been some giant scheme that you fell right into. You know the man has been trying to expose you as an executive of the Port Mafia—the first stepping stone of taking down the Port Mafia. Is that why Dazai attached himself to you so quickly? Pushed into it by his professor as a means to get proof of your affiliation with the Mafia? You’d assumed maybe it was your ability at work, making him more comfortable around you, and since he was so lonely, he ended up attaching himself to you but… this would make more sense, wouldn’t it? 

Dazai is a lot smarter than he makes himself out to be, a lot more observant and perceptive; you knew that day when you showed up at his apartment wounded that he was seeking out information about you. He could’ve been asking about the military bill to prepare himself for this event but… could he have been asking about it because Ui Koutarou is using him as a puppet to corner you? To get the proof that he needs?

You don’t want to believe it, but the passive form of your ability isn’t strong enough to create such a dependency even on the weakest of minds… and this makes a lot more sense than someone liking you for who you are.

You don’t say anything else, unwilling to incriminate yourself anymore than you already have. You’re sure Dazai must have some idea of who you are by now—maybe not exactly, but there’s no shot that he doesn’t have a clue as to your real occupation, and if you keep running your mouth, it’s only a matter of time before you hand him the proof Ui Koutarou needs on a silver platter. 

So, instead, you shake your head and walk back to the door, unlocking it so you can go back to the event hall.

Dazai grabs your wrist before you can. His grip is weak enough that you could pull out of it if you want, but you don’t. You don’t turn to look at him, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“Can’t you just tell me what I did wrong?” His voice wobbles a bit as he speaks, you can feel the way his fingers are trembling on your wrist. God, it’s so believable—you remember the way he kissed you, unsure and hesitant, breath shaky. No one is that good of an actor. “I did something again just now, why won’t you just tell me? I want to-”

You don’t want to hear the rest of that sentence, so instead, you look back at him and watch as the words die on his tongue. The look he gives you is confused and desperate, pleading with you to help him understand.

“If you know what’s good for you, Dazai, you’ll forget you came here tonight and won’t do another job for a man who’s willing to put three stupid kids on the line to save his own ass,” you say and Dazai’s brows furrow, he looks impossibly more confused as he waits for you to explain, protests and questions on the tip of his tongue.

You leave before he can get any of them out.

Dazai’s head spins as he leaves the event hall. He tries to seek you out again, but you’re nowhere to be found, so he finds himself wandering the edges of the event hall, unsure of what to do. Mishima Noriko is missing, too, he can’t help but notice with a tight feeling in his chest. Hayashi and Sato are speaking quietly to one another by the refreshments table, heads dipped together and serious expressions on their faces.

“Dazai,” Ayato calls, making his way over to where Dazai is standing.

After your words, Dazai can’t help but wince at how loud his voice is in comparison to the other attendees of the event. It’s glaringly obvious now that it’s been pointed out to him—even when he lowers his voice, there’s a jarring cadence that’s stark compared to the smooth tones of the other people here. 

Hinami is with him too, Dazai realizes, watching as the girl comes over to Dazai’s side, looking between the two of them before asking: “Are you ready to head out?”

No, Dazai wants to say, throat swollen and stomach churning. He doesn’t know when he’ll see you again if he leaves now. Doesn’t know if he’ll see you again. This might be his last chance and he’s so frustrated and lost. He wants answers from you—more than that, he wants you. 

He wants you.

You didn’t explain why you lied to him. You hardly explained why you were so mad about him being at the event. You clearly know who his professor is, you’re clearly unhappy about Dazai working with him, and you made a cryptic comment about how he’s putting Dazai and his classmates on the line to save his own ass.

Does that mean you know? Do you know what information that they’re trying to uncover at this event? You kind of implied it, didn’t you? You implied that a lot of the politicians in the Diet have affiliations with criminal organizations because what else could that ‘good and bad’ comment have meant? But how could you possibly know that? How could you know unless-

Dazai’s mind drifts back to all of the suspicions that had been floating through his head, letting out a heavy breath. Shit, could you really be-

“Dazai,” Hinami prods, nudging his shoulder, but before Dazai can make an excuse about staying longer, the entire building shakes.

Dazai nearly topples right over, barely catching himself on the wall behind him. His eyes are wide as he looks around the room, watching as people shriek and dive for cover. Again? The second one in a few days?

“Come on,” Ayato grabs his wrist, and Dazai instantly draws back, not expecting the sudden touch. “Dazai, come on. Ui-sensei’s been texting. He’s panicked about something, we’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Texting about what?” Dazai asks, casting one last longing look around the room, a last-ditch attempt to seek you out, only to find himself empty-handed again, shaking his head as he follows the other two out of the building. “What’s going on?”

“We don’t know,” Hinami says as they slip out of the building into the front parking lot. “Just said we needed to get out before things started going down.”

“Crazy that the earthquake happens right as he tells us that,” Ayato notes. “What are the chances?”

What are the chances? 

Unless it’s not an earthquake, Dazai thinks, taking a deep breath of the cool air outside, mind racing as he thinks back to the day you showed up at his apartment, the cryptic comment about the earthquake. You acted like you didn’t know that it was an earthquake, but Dazai had a strong gut feeling that you knew exactly what it was and it wasn’t an earthquake. And Ayato is right; what are the chances it happens twice, and both times you’re around for it? The first time, you seem to know what’s going on but try to evade talking about it; the second time, you mysteriously disappear right as it takes place.

It’s suspicious. Everything about this is suspicious, and Dazai just doesn’t know what to think. He wishes that he had more time to talk to you, that you hadn’t rushed off as soon as he mentioned Professor Ui—and that’s suspicious, too, because Professor Ui sent them here to try to get some intel on one of the big mafias in Tokyo so…

Dazai can’t even finish sorting out his scrambled thoughts because a familiar van is pulling up to the front steps of the city hall. The door is sliding open and Dazai can’t stop himself from looking back one last time before he’s being ushered into the back of the van by Hinami and Ayato. Professor Ui is already waiting inside for them, brows creased and a frown on his lips—an expression that instantly has Dazai on edge. 

“Ui-sensei, what’s going on?” Hinami asks softly as Ayato pulls the back doors of the van closed. Slightly alarmed, Dazai watches as Professor Ui instantly motions for the driver to get going. “Is something wrong?” 

Dazai’s stomach lurches as the van flies over a bump, gaze focused on Professor Ui as he taps furiously at his phone. His voice is a bit tighter than he intends for it to be when he asks, “Aren’t you going to tell us what’s going on?” 

“We got a tip-off that the Port Mafia was going to be in attendance at this event at the last second,” Professor Ui finally says, sitting up in his seat as he focuses his attention on the three of them. Dazai stiffens, mind racing back to Mishima Noriko and her last minute attendance of the event when she heard that you were attending, mind racing back to his piling suspicions of you. “We also got a tip-off that there was going to be a major conflict between them and one of the Tokyo-based Yakuza syndicates tonight. We wanted to get you out of there before it happened.”

“What?” Ayato sounds far too excited for Dazai’s liking; he gives the other man a heavy side-eye before focusing back on Professor Ui. “A gang fight is breaking out tonight? Wouldn’t that have been the best chance to get the proof?”

Best chance to get killed more like it, Dazai thinks, hardly withholding an eye roll as he keeps his gaze pinned on their professor. He can’t help the way his heart is skipping around with anxiety; he finds himself nervous for you, remembering how you abruptly disappeared from the event.

“Too dangerous,” Professor Ui shakes his head. “The fight has already broken out. Did you feel that quake?” 

“The earthquake?” Hinami asks curiously.

“Not an earthquake,” Professor Ui says dryly, grabbing his laptop and clicking a few times before turning the laptop to face them. Dazai’s gaze focuses on the screen, frowning at the blurry image of a man with red hair and an ugly hat. “From what we know, that was the ability of this man. We believe he’s an executive of the Port Mafia, the gravity manipulator. He’s been at the top of the country’s most wanted list for three years since he leveled all of Izumi-ku; hard to track down because he’s frequently in the west. They say he’s currently the strongest ability user in the world.”

“Tacky hat,” Dazai mutters absently, ignoring the looks he receives for the comment.

He’s ignored.

“I didn’t see him at the event,” Ayato announces, leaning back in his seat. “I made a lot of rounds too. Maybe your tip was off.”

“He wasn’t the executive in attendance,” Professor Ui says firmly.

Dazai’s heart drops to his feet. His professor flips the laptop back around, and Dazai can hardly breathe as he clicks through again. It feels like an eternity before the clicking stops, and he can hardly even drag his gaze back to the screen. 

Dazai knows what it’s going to show him before the computer is even turned toward them again. Doesn’t need to hear him say your name. Doesn’t need to see your face on the screen.

He looks anyway.

Your smile is foreign—unkind, almost—and the expression on your face is much cooler and unapproachable than what he’s become used to. You look beautiful, you always look beautiful, but he feels sick to his stomach at the sight of you when he’s usually dizzy with how much he’s enamored by you. His ears ring as he tries to tune into what Professor Ui is saying.

“... presents as vice-chair of the board of the Mori Corporation, suspected of being an executive of the Port Mafia… -sing her position within the Mafia would be the easiest way of exposing the Mori Corporation for what it is considering how public of a figure she is… say that Mafia affiliates tend to refer to her as hime in recognition of her position as heir…”

Dazai doesn’t care to hear anymore. He ignores the way Hinami stares at him with wide eyes, ignores when Professor Ui asks if any of them managed to speak to her at all, ignores everything as he stares at the damning image of you on that screen, confirming all of the suspicions he’s discarded over the past few weeks of knowing you.

Suddenly, for better or for worse, all of the peculiarities that he’s noted about you begin to make sense—everything from your ungodly wealth to how evasive you were about why you lied to him about going abroad, saying it’s too complicated to explain when he begged you to tell him why you lied. 

Shit.

There are too many emotions ricocheting through his chest and mind for him to pinpoint all of them, but as he looks back to the direction they’d left, knowing that whatever conflict is taking place there, you’re at the center of it, one emotion stands out above all of the rest—fear.

[rotthepoet]

Theo likes to appear to be so nonchalant, so cool, so unbothered, as if he got everything under control. Like nothing can get under his skin but that's EXACTLY why it's so fun to tease him n test how much it'll take to watch his restraint snaps (which isn't much tbh) 😼🤞

Going in for a hug? We're just hugging him extra tightly, pressing our lower half against his lower region extra harder, n inhaling his scent and he KNOWS

Sitting on his lap? Well of course it just so happens that we're wearing one of his big sweater w nothing underneath and batting our lashes up at him 🌚 totally accidental and a silly innocent mistake on our part

Hours, days, weeks, I DONT CARE IM GOING TO TEASE THAT MAN AND WATCH HIS RESTRAINTS CRACK

Anyways, have a beautiful day pookie 💋

- 🎹

Queen. I wrote like half of this and then i accidentally deleted it all. Lets have a moment of silence 😔 … now that its passed THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME I LOVE YOU AND I’LL NEVER MAKE YOU WAIT THIS LONG AGAIN

The Quidditch team had a very, no, outrageously stupid idea. Each and every one of them would practice celibacy for the week of the upcoming championship game. Seven whole days without sex. This included your amazing, wonderful, slightly pretentious boyfriend Theodore.

This did not sit right with you.

In fact, it sat so not right with you that you couldn’t help but… sabotage this game.

At first it was small things, your touch lingering too long on his bicep or thigh. Shifting your hips a little too much when he spooned you. Licking stray cream from your fingers at dinner.

But that didnt seem to work, no, it seemed like Theodore Nott hadnt been affected at all!(and you don’t know this, but he is DYING inside trying to not fuck you then and there)

So on day three you amp it up a little. You caught him right after quidditch practice, sweat dripping down his nose, and eyes wide as you practically throw yourself at him. Normally you wouldn’t touch him before a shower, but fuck has 3 days without sex made you a mess. Plus. You had to win this game.

You throw your arms around his neck, and his eyes glance down just enough to see the lowcut top youre wearing as your tits press against his chest. He suppresses a groan as you jump into his arm, forcing him to grab the plush skin of your thighs to support you. You, being extra bold today, kissed the side of his neck, tasting his salty skin beneath your lips as you take a deep breath and shiver. Maybe you were horny, but he didnt smell nearly as bad as he usually did after practice. Thats the point he put you down, kissing your forehead. “Four more days, bella…” he mumbled against your skin, before he grabbed your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look up at his dead eyes. “Knock it off or it’s going to be longer.”

“You wouldn’t last.”

“Oh, no. I’ll still be cumming. You just won’t be.”

His smirk as he walked off sent shivers down your spine and to the heat pooling in your panties.

On day five, you’ve had enough. You walked around your room, wearing nothing but a black, lacy thong and Theodores quidditch jersey. His name was proudly printed on the back, and you wore it like a badge of honor. And really, it was just too cute to not show off.

One text to Theo, asking for help on your DADA homework, and he was at your door in moments.

His face went a stark white the moment he saw you, his body shaking slightly from the overwhelming urge to take you right there.

You kissed his cheek in greeting, pulling him to a chair at your desk and sitting right down in his lap as usual.

“What are you doing?” He asks, voice raw and cracking slightly as he forced his gaze away.

You only shift slightly, your ass pressed against his groin while he stifles a groan. “This is where I always sit. Everything okay, teddy?” You ask.

“Fuck this.”

And within a second, your cheek is being pressed against the wood of your desk as Theodore leans over you, rutting his clothed hips against your plush ass. You win the game, by the way, you win it for SEVERAL hours.

Theodore loses his shit when he learns that no one else participated in the game, and he could have been balls deep in his girl on day one.

[cece693]

Can you do jasper hale x top male reader

Bratty (Jasper Hale x Top M! Reader)

Thanks for the request. Since it didn't have anything other than a top male reader, I took creative liberties and made Jasper a bratty king :) I didn't feel like writing smut, so apologies in advance, but some elements show reader being the dominant of the relationship :)

tags: bratty jasper, no smut but mentions of it, reader is pissed off

It had otherwise been a normal day—well, at least by vampire standards. You were outside, feeding on some wildlife, a young buck that had the misfortune of crossing your path while Jasper was inside the school. He’d been distant lately, opting to spend time away from you. Normally, this would’ve been fine; you weren’t exactly the clingy type. But lately, he’d been acting strange. Concerning, even. Jasper was usually stoic, his cold demeanor softening only when he was with you. Yet, these last few days, he’d been unusually…smiley.

Even the humans had noticed his sudden change in attitude, daring to encroach on what was rightfully yours. And worst of all? He let them. Hell, he smiled at them. It was as if he were inviting their attention, practically basking in it. He even started letting Alice pick out his clothes, something he never cared about before. It was like overnight, Jasper had turned into someone you barely recognized.

You had tried to brush it off, to ignore the gnawing feeling of jealousy and worry that clawed at you. But today, it got too much. Seeing him flash that grin at some brainless mortal girl in the hall had sent you over the edge. In a fit of rage, you stormed out of school, needing to get as far away as possible before you did something regrettable.

This brings you to the present moment: draining the blood of the unfortunate buck, trying to drown out your frustration with the taste of copper on your tongue. You didn’t expect Jasper to appear behind you, casually leaning against a tree, his lips curled into that smug smile that drove you mad.

"You stormed out in quite a hurry," he drawled, arms crossed as if he hadn’t just ignored you for days. "Jealous, are we?"

You wiped the blood from your mouth, narrowing your eyes at him. "What do you think?" you snapped, not in the mood for his playful tone.

Jasper shrugged, unbothered. "I think you’ve been overreacting. Alice said the same thing."

"Oh, Alice said that? Well, that just makes everything better," you shot back, sarcasm thick. "You’ve been acting like I don’t even exist, Jasper. Smiling at humans? Letting them flirt with you? Do you enjoy watching me lose my mind?"

He smirked, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "It’s kind of cute, actually."

You glared at him, fists clenching. "Cute? You think this is a game?"

His grin only widened, and he stepped closer. "Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing how far I can push you before you snap."

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your emotions a chaotic mess of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness. Jasper had always been difficult, but this was new. You weren’t sure if you wanted to strangle him or kiss him senselessly.

"Fine," you said, your voice dangerously calm. "If you want to parade yourself around, don’t let me stop you."

Jasper’s smirk wavered, just for a moment, a flicker of something like surprise crossing his face. But it quickly vanished, and the smirk returned in full force. He nodded, his eyes gleaming with a self-assured smile. "Good. I knew you’d see it my way."

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked away, not bothering to look back. You could feel Jasper’s eyes on you, but you didn’t slow down. Back at school, you entered the cafeteria and deliberately avoided the table where your family sat, heading straight for Bella and her friends instead. "Hello." You greeted politely, "mind if I sit here?"

"No!" Rebecca quickly exclaimed, pulling out the chair beside her. It was entertaining watching her try to impress you—Rebecca was beautiful in an obvious way, blonde with striking green eyes, and her slight resemblance to Jasper made it almost too easy to flirt. Bella was confused by your sudden appearance, but looking behind her explained everything. The Cullens were still, but their shoulders shook in silent laughter, as Jasper evidently fumed in his seat. Eyes narrowed and lips drawn in a tight line as he watched you and Rebecca flirt.

"You know, I’ve always thought you had the most beautiful eyes." you said, flashing her a charming smile. The compliment made her blush, and she laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Your smile widened, hearing the obvious sound of wood breaking. You spent the remainder of lunch interacting with Rebecca, acting oblivious to the eyes burning a hole in your back. Wanting to push your beloved further (because he ignored you for days) when the bell rang, you offered Rebecca to walk her to class. An action that you solely reserved for Jasper. Well did.

By the time the school day ended, Jasper was furious. During the ride home, he made it a point of giving you the silent treatment, not even answering questions concerning you from your siblings. He didn't look at you, and you were sure he was also thinking badly of you, judging by Edward's soft chuckles.

Once you got home, you headed straight to your bedroom. Jasper followed, closing the door behind him with a little too much force. "What’s wrong, babe?"

Jasper’s eyes narrowed at your mocking tone, his arms defiantly crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the door. He looked at you like you’d just asked the stupidest question in the world, his lips curling into an irritated pout. "What’s wrong, babe?" he mimicked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he threw your words back at you.

"Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you spent lunch flirting with Rebecca like it was your new favorite pastime, calling her eyes beautiful and letting her practically crawl into your lap. Seriously? You looked like you were one second away from asking her to the prom."

"I'm pretty sure she's already going with Jason—"

“Not the point,” Jasper hissed, his frustration evident. “I never allowed them to touch me. I didn’t encourage them to twirl their goddamn hair and giggle every minute. And I sure as hell didn’t walk them to class.”

“What’s your problem, Jasper?” you shot back, your anger bubbling to the surface. “It’s not like this came out of nowhere! You were the one who started paying attention to those humans, letting them flirt with you even when I was right next to you. And don’t get me started on how you’ve ignored me these past days, opting to spend time with Alice or Emmett, of all people!”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?! Me wanting to get my husband’s attention is a crime?!”

"That's the reason for your bratty attitude?!" you exclaimed, disbelief thick in your voice. “You thought acting like a complete jerk would somehow get me to notice you?”

Jasper shrugged, a pout forming on his lips. “What else was I supposed to do? You’ve been so distant! We haven’t had sex since last week! Do you know how long that is for me? I thought maybe if I made a scene, you’d realize you actually want me.”

You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape. “You could have just talked to me about it!”

“Talking hasn’t exactly worked out for me,” he snapped. “Every time I try to bring it up, you act like I’m being dramatic. Well, guess what? I am dramatic! I’m a vampire, and I have needs!”

Despite your irritation, you felt the heat of your anger cooling, replaced by that familiar, annoying fondness you had for his childish antics. It was hard to stay mad when the root of his pettiness was so disarmingly sweet. “Admit it, Jasper. You were just being petty because you missed me.”

Jasper opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say another word, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a fierce, searing kiss. His initial surprise melted into fervent eagerness, and he clung to you like you were the very blood he needed to survive. The tension between you dissipated—your fingers tangled in his golden hair as you deepened the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, you smiled down at Jasper—his eyes wide, pout replaced with an adoring smile that sent a rush of satisfaction through you. “If you want my attention,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, “ask for it nicely, like a good boy.”

Jasper bit his lip, his cocky bravado entirely undone as he nodded, eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and submission. “Yes, sir. I’ll be good.” With that, you knew he’d be on his best behavior...for now.

[cinnahoons]

𝜗𝜚 oh, guava! — p. lee heeseung x fem!reader w. 672 genres. fluff, established relationship, tickling cause it's cute, beach setting cw. none notes. this was super random but i wanted to write silly domestic hee my bad guys

“you smell really nice.”

you drop the fashion magazine you’re reading, sunglasses sliding down your nose by the sheer force of how hard you whip your head towards your boyfriend.

“oh god. not here, heeseung.”

he’s the picture of innocence, laid out on the pink towel he’d picked from the options you’d shown him before coming to the beach. he’s using his elbows to prop himself up, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. his burnt-orange hair flutters in the wind.

“is it the new perfume i bought you? the guava one?”

you narrow your eyes at him before pushing your sunglasses back into position, lying down on your own yellow towel with your magazine propped above your head, blocking out the sun. 

“mm-mm. i’m ignoring you.”

there’s a moment of serenity where you think heeseung has given up, but then he makes a dramatic show of rolling off his beach towel onto yours. there’s a little sliver of golden sand between them, so he sprays some onto your skin when he presses his body against yours.

you swat at him with your magazine, fighting back an amused grin.

“you’re so stupid! get off me.” you’re trying your best to sound annoyed, but he’s wriggling against you like a worm, and, frankly, it’s messing with your psyche. 

“sorry, i can’t help it. i’m hungry.” he bites your shoulder playfully. “can i eat you, oh guava princess?”

you groan in exasperation, shielding the blush on your cheeks with your hand. hopefully, he thinks it's just a sunburn.

“have you gotten to the part where they find the golden mango?” you gesture languidly at the abandoned book on heeseung’s towel. you’d recommended it to him so that the two of you can discuss your favorite parts, and he typically reads everything you suggest. today, you’ve been waiting patiently to hear his thoughts. heeseung smirks.

“that’s a non-answer.”

“that’s also a non-answer.”

your boyfriend watches you for a couple of seconds, seemingly mulling over your rebuttal. eventually, he gives you a wide grin.

“okay. yes.”

at that, you let out a surprised giggle, eyebrows raising. he usually plays your game a little longer.

“interesting. you drive a hard bargain.”

heeseung smiles. 

“only for you, baby.”

you can’t hide your blush now. heat flushes on your cheeks, and you have to bite your lip to keep from smiling back at him too hard. he’s still lying on your towel next to you.

“fine. but,” you turn over a little, a manicured hand coming down on heeseung’s bare chest. “if i pee myself or something, it’s over for you. i drank two whole lemonades before this.” your boyfriend only watches you with an amused glimmer in his eyes, rosy fondness painted across his cheeks.

“no promises.”

you barely have a second to complain before heeseung springs into action, his typical routine of launching himself over you to barrage you with tickles inciting a bout of giggles from your mouth. he keeps most of his body weight off of you, leaning down to press chaste kisses against your cheek as he continues his assault on the sides of your torso.

he’s enveloped in what is indeed the new guava perfume he purchased for you, laughing when he makes you giggle by letting out a cartoony whistle near your neck. it’s all fun—it always is, when you’re with him. 

he’s relentless today, red in the cheeks from laughing at the shrieks coming from your mouth. he smells like sunscreen and coconut.

“i think,” he pants, when he’s finally tickled you into exhaustion, “that i’ve fulfilled my duty.”

you give him a humorously deadpan look. 

“you think?”

his cheeks scrunch up with a smile, before leaning down and planting a sweet kiss against your lips.

“mhm.”

“you’re so lucky i didn’t pee myself.”

“oh, i know,” he says, rolling off of you and crawling slowly back to his towel. “but you will when you hear what i have to say about this book.”

you sit up, lightning fast.

“lee heeseung!”

© cinnahoons please do not steal, plagiarize, or reupload my work.

tags! @vousty @neos127 @aenify @junityy @en-ner-jay

[rezitio]

"𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐎 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒" smut

Billy Loomis x reader x Stu Macher

leak: your stepbrother and ex fuck you while making your boyfriend watch

genre: E. non-con/dub-con, mentions of cheats on randy w ex!Billy, step-cest, groping, gunplay, knife threat, both masturbation, fingering, threesome, threats, exhibitionism, forced submission

artist: Billy loomis ft.Stu Macher (shout out from randy)

━━━━━━━━

You can only hear the sound of your heart pounding. All you can feel is blood pumping through your veins and the longing feeling of someone being behind you. Your legs are moving on their own; you're processing everything with a five-second delay.

You just jumped down 2 flights of stairs, and now you're suddenly in the kitchen, and now you've stopped? No, you bumped into something—no, someone… It's Stu. Thank God! It's Stu! Your arms wrap around your older stepbrother. “Stu! We... we gotta go! I just”—you're gasping for air, trying to repay oxygen debt as fast as you can. To lose it all again.

He reciprocates the touch, his hands on your shoulders. “Shh… it's going to be alright.” He coos, stroking your head like a child. This was no time for his games.

“I'm serious—I saw him!” You cry. It's like you two are fighting now. His grip is strong on you as you try to push him away. He's not taking you seriously; his playfulness is going to kill you both.

Yeah, playfulness—that's it. The way his grip remains unrelenting, sliding down to your waist. The way he keeps you struggling, his crotch grinding your erratic movements, his face of relief and pleasure.

Simultaneously you are groped at your ass and breast. Like instinct and the last rush of adrenaline, you push him away. Well, you attempt to. Your body freezes as you feel a cold blade to your bare back. Your heart pauses as you realize the blade isn't held by a ghostface behind you.

But by your stepbrother. The one who promised you he'd protect you and you won't die or get killed. Slowly you meet his eyes. A psychotic smile plastered on him. “Surprise baby.” He cackled.

Tumbling on your own foot, you break out, rushing for the door, only for a gun to push you back into the room. As the owner of the gun showed his face, you couldn't help but fall to the ground. “What's the matter, [name]? You look like you've seen a ghost,” Billy Loomis, your ex, would tease.

“You're insane.” You curse through a sniffle. “We all go a little mad sometimes,” Billy countered. You barely got another sound out. Your next words faltering. “Fuck me.”

A knowing, mocking look Is exchange between the two of them. Stu's mouth widening in glee and excitement. “Oh, we plan to!” The thought makes all the life in your eyes die. You realize you would much rather die than be their fuck toys.

With a burst of energy, you jolt to an escape. A horribly failed one. Billy catches your arm; the sound of the safety of the gun falling off makes you realize something—you don’t want to fucking die, and you would much rather be their fucktoy.

“Stupid slut, I'll fucking slice your throat and fuck your dead body if you move.” Billy curses through a speaker. That same voice that has been terrorizing your friends comes to haunt you now. The look in Billy’s eyes tells you he will definitely do it, making you settle down. Stu laughs at your submission.

You knew Stu had been going through a lot with himself, but what could have possibly gone so wrong? You don’t even want to address the ‘I can fix him’ mentality you tried for Billy.

Throwing away the speaker to the side and waving the gun at you, he commands. “Strip.” You tried reaching to the last bit of his humanity, staring him dead in the eyes, but there's nothing there. Only coldness and a psychotic demon inside. “NOW!” He shoots, breaking a random glass, triggering you to get rid of your bra and pants.

“Ooh fuck, Billy—look at those tits!” Stu’s hands were already fumbling with his pants, reaching for his cock. Billy’s eyes are dangerously captured by your tits; he’s told you he likes them, how pretty they are. How one day he’s going to ravish them. Could this be the day? “Touch yourself through your panties, baby.” Billy commands, and you listen.

Stu moans loudly as he starts stroking himself at the sight. “Have some fucking self-control, or you’d be on the floor with her!” Billy warns him. The two are now having a standoff for dominance. Which Billy obviously wins. “Good boy. Get him.” A grin creeps on Stu’s face. "Oh, you're gonna love this one! Its a scream baby! I'll be back right back~" He taunts rushing out the room.

Now you're left alone with Billy, who's eyeing you down hungrily as you touch yourself. He grabs you by your roots, bringing you into a locked position against him. He rips off your panties, stuffing them in your mouth like a gag. A cold metal enters you, and you fidget.

“Squirm all you want, bitch; safety’s off. If your thigh pushes my finger to the trigger, that's on you.” He states, like he wasn't saying he could blow your brains out. The cold meeting your warmth created a sensation your toys and fingers could never do. It made your clit sing in pleasure, spreading through your body.

You thought it was embrassing, feeling pleasure from a tool designed to end your life by someone who ended all of your friends in cold blood. You knew nothing of embrassing till Stu walked back in with the only person you still had hope for in this whole ordeal, tapped up, powerless.

Your own boyfriend Randy. Shame across your face. You close your legs shut and lower your gaze. "Awh what the matter?" Billy prompts you. "You don't want him to see how you'd rather get off on a gun than his cock? You don't want him to know that all this time he's been waiting for you to take his virginity you've been killing your innocence night by night on my cock? The dear old ex's cock?"

He takes the gun out and forces your legs open. You can't hear what they're saying. You've blocked them out in shame. All you know is that he's exposing you and humiliating Randy, in their tensious silent fued they've always had. His finger circles your clit, you mute your sounds biting your tongue but it's evident on your face.

Billy makes you face Randy, rather he shows Randy the pleasure written all over your face by just his fingers. Randy turns away humiliated only for Stu to turn his head to face you. "Oh you're gonna watch ALL we do to her" Stu laughs. Oh tonight's going to be a long night.

Trigger warning: E. dear God... multiple orgasms from everyone, clit torture, swollen clit, knife/blade play, cunnilingins, past the point of overstim, blood tasting, male r! oral

Cum on the floor, cum on the gun, cum on your face, cum everywhere. They carried you to Stu’s parents bedroom. They toyed with you, had fun with you, and fucked you like hungry, sex-deprived animals. And the abuse still continues.

Randy's in the corner hidden by shadows. He's conscious, you think, they didn't do anything to him other than cut up his pants to laugh at his boner.

He's sitting in a puddle of his own cum. Billy says you shouldn't waste my tears on a pathetic fuck whose had multiple orgasms seeing his girlfriend used and abused

Stu’s mouth keeps abusing your clit. His goal, he said, was to make the entirety of it pop out. And with his stamina, he won't stop till he reaches his goal. Not allowing you to cum unless it's on the gun. You have to choose.

Ride the gun with Billy’s finger on the trigger and safety off till you cum, or take Stu’s mouth ‘like a good girl’ and hold it in. Your choice. As for Billy, he’s playing his own little games with you. The tip of the knife slices lightly over your chest as his tongue tickles your already bruised nipples.

He told you he’d ravish them.

Drawing closer to your face, he’d place the tiny blade in his mouth. Don’t let it cut you, don't swallow it, and push it in the other person's mouth. Those were the rules. His lips crash on yours, and he releases the blade into your mouth, but you’ve learned enough by the cuts on your tongue to not let him get the chance.

Your tongue pushes the blade past your lips into his. He smiles. What a fast learner you are. You cut up his cheek and tongue. Spitting the blade out, he kisses you harshly. The blood from his mouth leaking into yours.

At least this time you're not the one bleeding. The kiss hurts your bruised lips, but not as much as you feel the pain in your tied-up wrists and the torment your clit is undergoing. No release, no break. Constant stimulation.

This was past the point of overstimulation. His mouth stopped sucking and started licking the ball of nerves, making you cry out loudly. “Oh, none of that.” Billy shoves his cock in your mouth, gagging you quiet.

His length reached down your throat, and fingers pinched your nose. You didn't squirm or thrash around for air—you begged.

Your hands in his hair, squeezing them, your eyes watering. “You’d let Stu do his job right?” You nodded intensely, releasing your nose, mouth still full. “Breathe through your nose and suck me.” He commands. What could you do other than obey?

Your legs already gave up on you; soon will your hands. Stu had succeeded in swelling your clit. You were on all fours, crawling, knife in your hand. “Come on, baby, I know you hate me. Do it.” Billy taunted as he leaned on the wall in front of you, a distance that seemed too far. “GUT ME,” he used the speaker to taunt you even more, channeling your rage as you moved to pierce him.

From behind, Stu simply blew on your clit, and it made you lose balance and fall flat, knife sliding to Billy. “No…” You choked out, face-planted on the ground; they laughed as you fell. Persistent, you reached your arm out; maybe you could get it back...?

Stu used his dick to stroke your clit, and then, surprising even you yourself, you came on his dick like an explosion, almost like your pussy saying, ‘Fuck off.’ Stu’s face was full of pride, that damn fucking smile, proud of his work.

Billy squats, shoe pushing your face up to face him. “Oh, we are definitely keeping you.”

producer: rezitio© label: scream album: scream smuts

This is what I was talking bout getting into darker content, pls don't go in the comments saying 'but this is just abuse' I've given enough warnings. 🙂

[pars-ley]

my love!!!! lexi here hehe i would love fluff #6 and smut #26 with jungkook 💗💖🩷💞

Title: Plain and Simple

Pairing: Jungkook X female reader

Summary: When Jungkook confessed, you had frozen with fear but now you were ready to show him exactly how you feel.

Genre: friends to lovers / uni friends / drabble / smut / fluff / 

Rating: 18+ (nsfw)

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before we tap it guys, please for the love of god) / creampie / clit play / explicit language / slightly public sex (in a locked locker room)

Word count: 1.2k

Banner: Me

Beta: @lo1k-diamonds

Author's notes: thank you Lexi for this request! I loved it, I hope you enjoy! If you would like to send a request, you can find the prompt game here

You are done. 

Done watching her flirt with him in front of you.

Done pretending you feel less for him than you do.

It’s your stubbornness that got you here in the first place. When Jungkook had confessed to you, beautifully expressing his feelings, you had turned into nothing more than statuesque fear. Not ready to admit your own affections, afraid of what it might mean for your friendship. 

Now as you stand here with Rose pawing at him outside the locker rooms, a fire erupts inside you, melting most of your previous fear away. While his hair’s still wet from his shower after running track, the sight calling to you in more ways than one, her ridiculous fake laughter echoes through the halls, and your feet are moving towards them on their own.

You stride down the corridor with a swish of your hips and a flick of your hair, emitting a confidence you don't entirely feel.

He notices you instantly, eyes darting between you and her, seemingly unsure what to do.

“Hey, Jungkook, I need to talk to you,” you say, completely ignoring her presence next to you.

He hesitates briefly, but when he steps forward in your direction, she grabs his arm.

“We were in the middle of a conversation.” She says, side-eyeing you, clearly just as irritated by your presence as you are about hers.

“I'm so sorry,” you start sarcastically, “this is urgent but I'll bring him right back, ok?”

You don't wait for an answer as you hook your arm through his and lead him away.

He doesn't say a word until you guide him into one of the locker rooms.

“Listen, if it's about what I said last week, don't stress about it-” 

You cut him off by calling out to ensure you're alone, and when only silence greets you, you turn to face him.

“Let's just pretend it didn't happen, ok?” he says quickly, avoiding your eyes completely,  “We're good, I promise.”

Your stomach sinks. You didn't want to pretend, you wanted him.

“No.” Your voice comes out harsher than you intend, an attempt at concealing your nerves.

His eyebrows shoot up as his eyes flit between yours, searching for answers. “W-what do you mean?”

You take a few steps towards him, until there's only a whisper of space between you. “I mean, I don't want to forget it, or ignore it, I want to address it.”

His cheeks flush as his gaze dips to his feet, avoiding you. 

“Starting with,” you continue, hooking a finger under his chin and forcing his eyes back to you, “I should have responded better and I'm sorry that I didn't say anything. I was scared.”

Frowning, he asks, “Scared? Why would you be scared?”

“Because telling someone you're in love with them is terrifying, especially your best friend.”

His eyes pop and he opens his mouth to speak but only empty air exits, making you smile.

“But, I'm not afraid anymore.” You respond, your voice no more than a whisper as the silence in the room seems to engulf you both, “I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.”

His face lights up, “You have my whole damn heart, take it, it's yours.”

Reaching up swiftly, your lips crash against his, moving with a desperate pace, exploring his mouth eagerly as his arms wind around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You only break away when your heart is pounding in your ears and you're gasping for breath.

“I need you, right here, right now. I can't deny it anymore,” you whisper, voice laced with lust.

He looks at you for a moment, searching your eyes for sincerity. When he finds it, he wastes no time in spinning you, pressing you firmly against the door. 

His hands roam over the curves of your body, sending feral need straight to your core, making it throb painfully.

His hands travel down to the back of your knees and hook your legs out from under you, making you gasp with surprise. You wrap them around his waist, squeezing tightly as he carries you across the room and lays you down on one of the benches. The wood digs into your back uncomfortably but it only adds to your arousal. The pleasure with an element of pain.

As he kneels at the end of the wood, you grapple at the waistband of his trousers, moving so fast your fingers fumble with the button. He helps you, pushing down his jeans and boxers and lifting your dress so it fans across your chest. 

Pulling your underwear aside, his fingers skate teasingly through your folds, spreading your arousal, while he watches in awe, biting his bottom lip. Lining up to your entrance, he pauses to look up at you with a questioning gaze.

You nod, “Please.” You beg.

He slides slowly inside you, releasing a sinful moan that has you clenching around him. He jolts and smiles down at you.

“I've thought about this moment so many times.” He says breathlessly.

“Make me yours, Jungkook.”

He gives you a devilish grin, his eyes lighting up, as he starts to move, thrusting his hips slowly up into you. Everytime he glides smoothly inside you, he massages that sweet spot, making your toes curl. Your legs around him squeeze, forcing him further inside you, stretching you deliciously, and making you gasp. 

The sound of the wooden bench creaking under you only excites you more when thinking about the reality of where you're doing this.

He feels so good inside you, the way his hands have fallen to your hips, holding you in place and the heavy concentration etched into his furrowed brow, as he observes your reactions to his movements.

The faster you breathe and the louder your moans become, the more he continues his mission to claim you. He presses his thumb lightly on your clit, using your arousal to massage gentle circles, so feather light it makes you want to scream. But your greedy core clenches around him, desperate for release now.

“Kookie,” you whine.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” He reaches down, using one hand to stroke your face.

“Harder,” you pant.

He obeys, ramming into you while still continuing the ministrations on your sensitive bud. A tight knot forms low down in your stomach as a flush of heat spreads through your body like wildfire. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” He says soothingly and it's all you need to unravel around him. 

The groans that escape him as your cunt spasms around his dick sound like music to your ears.

“Fuck, you feel-” he cuts himself off, as your orgasm milks him to his end, feeling his warm seed spill into you. 

When he stops moving, he slowly lowers himself and kisses you gently, lovingly, before slipping out of you. Covering your crotch with your underwear once more and pulling up his trousers and boxers, he then pulls you up to stand, wrapping his arms around you in an intimate embrace. 

Stroking your hair and kissing your forehead, he asks,“Do you…want to come back to my dorm?” There's a nervousness in his voice you instantly recognise.

Looking up into his wide, apprehensive eyes you can't help but chastise yourself for delaying your confession. 

“Yes,” you reply, tiptoeing up to kiss him and relishing in the way he smiles against your mouth as he pulls you closer. 

Jungkook has always, wholeheartedly, been yours. 

[prismuffin]

The MW2 boys reaction to you calling them pretty boy

w/ Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy

warnings?: swearing, mentions of drinking

*gn reader ( can be read as any gender ! )

!-!more under the cut!-!

John Price:

—You calling him pretty boy would definitely catch him off guard.

—Honestly he thinks it's a dare

—Depending on how well he knows you he might let it slide, unless you're in public or around other members of 141, then he'll reprimand you for it.

—Secretly enjoys it but tries not to show any reaction

"Drinking all by yourself pretty boy?"

John's head snapped in your direction, seeing you leaning against the counter. He was currently at the bar having a drink though your presence completely caught him off guard. He eyed you up and down before taking another sip of his drink, already sensing the headache inducing conversation ahead. "Pretty boy?" He questioned, his body jolting in a silent laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than anything. "Never call me that again Sergeant." "Yes sir."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

—Did he hear you right?

—Is honestly super flustered but is very happy with the new nickname, he's still very confused at the suddenness of it though.

—He's super smiley all day afterwards like it's all he can think about. Price had to ask him what was had happened to make him so happy.

Gaz was going through a routine pre-workout stretch in the training room. He had more of a lean build compared to some of his mates and though that doesn't make him any less capable it still made him feel as though he has to keep up sometimes. "Nice arms you got there pretty boy!" He turned his head in your direction, his eyebrows raised as he watched you wink at him before disappearing into the hallway. He beamed, feeling a bit more energized than before. He completed his workout with a confidence boost, nobody could tear Gaz down that day. He knew he was getting questioning looks from Price about his smiley attitude but he didn't care.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

—He's so confused? Like did you really just say that to him of all people?? The guy wearing the mask all the time???

—Like Price, he thinks it's a dare or a joke you got forced into by Soap or something

—Doesn't know how to take random genuine compliments that have no context so please bare with him

—Might just fully ignore you honestly, especially if its early mornings

Ghost sighed as he walked into the common room. Soap and Gaz were talking about something in the corner of the room while Price seemed to be sat reviewing some files, you standing over his shoulder. You noticed him first, your eyes catching his as he stood in the doorway. You nodded your head at him, "Morning pretty boy." He blinked at you, seeing if you were serious. It wasn't something he had expected to leave your mouth and he didn't know how to react, he was thankful for his mask at times like these. Noticing your greeting, Price had turned and nodded to him as well before the both of you went back to looking at the files. He mumbled a "Fuckin' 'ell" as he walked deeper into the room. He just hoped that nickname wouldn't stick.

John "Soap" MacTavish:

—He easily accepts the new nickname with a smirk

—Two can play that game 'cause he'll definitely flirt back a little to be honest

—You're just adding fuel to his ego ya know

—Like Gaz he's just a big ole happy boy after you call him pretty boy

Soap was with Ghost in the locker room on base. He was chatting with Ghost, though it was more like he was talking while Ghost was listening, only giving input when he felt necessary. You'd walked in when Soap had just taken off his tactical vest, leaving him in nothing but a tight black shirt. A whistle cut through the air, catching the attention of both men. "Looking good pretty boy." Soap's expression morphed from confusion to that of an amused one. A smirk rested on his lips as he crossed his arms. "Not lookin' too bad yourself there la' " He winked before hearing Ghost groan about how you two were being gross.

Alejandro Vargas:

—It catches him off guard much like Price but he quickly gets over his shock

—Like Soap he's more than likely to flirt back with you

—Finds it funny, especially if it comes from nowhere

—Will tease you to hide his own flustered state

You were currently occupying yourself by cleaning off one of your favorite submachine guns. It was then that Alejandro had walked in with Rodolfo. They were both coated in sweat after a morning run which Rudy had immediately left to wash off. You would have joined them both had you not been minorly injured on one of the recent expeditions. You weren't complaining though, you got to rest all day and take in sights like this. A smirk found its way onto your face as your eyes scanned over Alejandro's form. "Welcome back pretty boy." Alejandro shook his head, a smile resting on his face. "Ten cuidado amigo/a, falling for me can be dangerous." (Be careful, friend)

Rodolfo Parra:

—He's flattered to say the least, he definitely wasn't expecting it but he's not mad at all

—Like Gaz and Soap he's very smiley afterwards

—You made his day with such a simple compliment and he secretly hopes the nickname will stick cause it makes his heart flutter.

Rodolfo was currently training some new recruits for Los Vaqueros, yelling semi-threatening words of encouragement as he watched them run the track. The yelling along with the heat had made him a bit lightheaded though he fought against the feeling. He jolted when a hand clapped his back, turning to see your face greeting him with a smile. "You doing alright pretty boy?" If you asked Rudy later he'd definitely blame the blush rising in his cheeks on the heat. "S-Sí, I'm ok." You tilted your head, unhooking your hip flask from your belt. You held it out to him "Cuídate Rudy." (Take care of yourself) He nodded, grabbing the flask from your hand and taking a big sip before handing it back to you. "Gracias." "De nada."

----!----

( first time writing for COD men I hope it turned out ok !! )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN but you can still send me messages to see if I'm close to opening them again!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

[lcriedlastnight]

Enemies to lovers with Oscar

"i'm sick of playing this game with you." "what game?" "the game where we pretend we don't like each other."

ooo okay anon!

tw: fem!reader, me not knowing anything rlly, swears, me heart rhetorical questions tee hee, lmk if there's anything you want me to add, swears.

w/c: 1.4k

daniel had called you nosy but you really didn't mean to overhear oscar and logan's conversation, honest! you were just walking by where both boys were standing and you just so happened to overhear oscar call you annoying.

ever since you had heard those words fall from oscar's mouth you had avoided him like the plague. and it had worked, for two months.

every time you and daniel met for lunch it was just one of those topics that you just had to bring up. even though there had been no new developments because as you had told the older australian boy "oscar was never getting the time of day from you, ever again." daniel just nodded with a knowing smirk. what he knew? beats you. you did not dwell on it too much because that was just a daniel thing to do, always knowing shit that you had no clue of.

daniel had begged you to come to his next race, which happened to be in italy. you said yes, mostly for the gorgeous scenery in italy but if anyone else asked it was to see daniel and support him during the race.

daniel had ended up doing media with oscar on thursday, so both aussies walked in alongside each other while you managed to wrangle a seat in to watch. (you had promised the VCARB team that you would take notes of the media session and that had in turn convinced their media manager).

you hang back a little as you do not want to walk with oscar, just thinking about his stupid face makes you mad so god knows what would happen if daniel forced you both to talk to each other, which everyone knew that was one hundred percent something he would do, just bring bring some drama to the day.

both boys laugh as they make their way inside. oscar lets daniel go in first as the door is pretty narrow, which means you are left behind him. oscar pauses in the doorway as he hears your footsteps approaching.

"hey!" oscar turns to greet you. he always does this. he acts so nice and greets you any time he sees you around the paddock. it confused you to no end for the first month until you realise that oscar must be really fake. sometimes you wish you never overheard his conversation at all because you did really think, before all this happened, that you both could be very good friends.

you do not even acknowledge at the boy as you push past him. you very rarely entertained him. you refused to make a fool of yourself. once your inside you take a seat up the back and take your notebook out, ready to take notes.

you have no idea why daniel even asked you to come and watch, this was so boring. and the worst part was that you actually had to pay attention because you would for sure get a telling off at the very least by the teams media manager and you did not do well with that.

soon it was finished and the drivers head out before the media personnel. you pack your things up and stand up, ready to meet daniel for the usual media day routine, but oscar has other plans and gets to you before you even had the chance to think about avoiding him.

"can i speak to you?" he asks, a little hushed despite the bustle of the room. you look up surprised he was actually talking to you, you really thought that you had made it clear you did not want to speak to him. you hesitate, eyes unconsciously flitting over to daniel who just wiggles his brows back to you. so he was no help in getting you out of this.

"sure, make it quick." you sigh. your arms cross over each other, wanting to let oscar know that you really did not want to talk to him.

"in private?" the aussie tries again, eyes showing hints of desperation and maybe a little nerves? you were not too sure.

"okay, whatever will get this over with quicker." you reply, following him out the room, letting him lead you to what seemed like an empty hallway halfway across the paddock from where the interviews took place.

once oscar stops you stop behind him and lean up against the wall. oscar repositions himself to make sure he is standing in front of you, wanting to make sure he had your full attention for whatever he was going to do or say next.

"well? why did you drag me all the way across the paddock, oscar?" you press, clearly annoyed with him and you want it to show. oscar only huffs then takes a minute step closer to you. really, you would never have even noticed it if you were not staring at oscar. come to think of it why were you staring at him anyway? you have no time to dwell on it though because oscar is speaking.

"i'm tired of playing this game with you." oscar says, it is as clear as day but it was like he was speaking in riddles. were you supposed to know what he was talking about?

you scoff at him. "what? what game?".

"the one where we pretend we don't like each other." oscar frowns as he speaks and you come to find that you do not like it when he is doing anything but smiling. the unhappy expression does not suit him well.

"well you aren't very good at that game. you're always trying to talk to me." you retort and oscar takes another tiny step forwards, towards you again.

the space between you was still big enough to be considered friendly but you seen him move, twice. he wanted to be near you even when you were being horrible to him. the thought sent a shot of something, you cannot decipher what, through your spine.

oscar laughs. he literally laughs at your words. what is wrong with him, one minute he looks like he could start crying and the next he is laughing? you worry for his mental health for a second, maybe the stress from the races had finally tipped the most level-headed guy on the grid over the edge.

"don't know if you noticed but it's pretty hard to stay away from you." oscar is still smiling from his laughter. can he not just say something that does not confused you to end of the earth? what was it with him and wanting to confused the fuck out of you.

"we haven't had a proper conversation in two months.." you trail off. oscar smirks at you. "you been keeping count, honey?" he teases. it sadly works and bring a light flush of embarrassment to your face. how did call you out, why were you keeping track anyway?

"i could tell you didn't want to speak to me so i tried to stay away." oscar tells you, wide eyed and all pretty looking. it makes you mad a little.

"well.. well you called me annoying to logan, so!" you scramble for a reply because you do not really have a come back and do not know what, or even how, to reply to him. especially when he was getting sweet with his words. you are not good with affection. you would much rather avoid any type of romantic feeling towards anyone than fall head first into them.

"i didn't i said that it was annoying how pretty you were. if you're gonna eavesdrop then at least listen to the whole conversation." oscar is teasing you again. you had never seen this side of oscar before but honestly, you kind of liked it. you groan and oscar laughs.

"we'll take it slow, hm?" he mutters to you, like an after though as he takes that final step that has you both standing toe-to-toe. his hand comes up to hold you jaw in a gentle hold.

"how do you know that i even like you back?" you sass, wanting the upper hand back so desperately. oscar just hums and pulls you up ti meet his lips is a sweet kiss.

you have to pull away earlier than either of you would have liked because daniel's giggles could be heard from a mile away.

"knew it!" he shouts up the hallway to you. oscar's cheeks are matching the red on your own. he pulls your head into his chest as he laughs through the interruption.

[kooqitas]

bts, maknae line ★ hc! boyfriend w. free use/cnc kink

#genre: smut, headcanon

#warnings: free use kink(!!!!!!!!), somnophilia, exhibitionism, cumslut, degradee, sharing, power game, cnc. MINORS DNI

#notes: not proofread, english isn’t my first language!

★ m.list | inbox | support me on ko-fi

jungkook

he loves being able to use you whenever he wants, but most of all, he loves showing you off to his friends, jungkook loves recording videos fucking you and sending them to his friends, he loves making videocalls while stretching out your pussy, he loves having meetings at home and ending the night with you being fucked on the couch while all six other friends watch, sometimes he shares you, he lets them cum on your face, sometimes he lets them put their dicks in your holes, he likes to show off how good you are. he also likes to show you off to strangers, he loves to fuck you at parties where he knows that several guys will stare at the scene, he loves the idea of ​​guys jerking off thinking about eating your pussy but only he has that privilege, he loves showing off the little slut from him, and you, as a good girl, always accept any drop of sperm, whether from him or from any other guy that he tells you to dump on you.

taehyung

he was a little afraid when you arrived talking about your free use kink for the first time, but he likes the power game, he likes to 'force' you to accept things, even though he knows that in the end it's all about what you want and accept (or no), he loves to mark you, to make everyone know that you are owned and that he fucks you so well that you are left with marks the next day, he loves to see you crying and begging saying that it's too much, only to then see you cum in the next minute and tremble in his body. he loves it when you cry into his dick and scream for everyone to hear what you two are doing. he loves to test your limits.

jimin

he is the biggest fan of somnophilia, he started eating your pussy one night and now at least once a week you are woken up with his dick inside your pussy, sometimes gentle, sometimes extremely rough, sometimes affectionate and giving you little kisses saying how good you are and how accepting of him you are, and sometimes you wake up being suffocated hearing that you are a thirsty slut who is always willing to be beaten by a dick. sometimes you wake up with just him cumming on your face, warm cum dripping into your mouth at dawn, and sometimes he wakes you up like that in the morning too, really, nothing better than waking up early in the morning with park Jimin in the middle of yours legs.

[lustfulslxt]

Only anon bc imma pussy…but like what if matt and them have been friends for a while and she find him like jerking off to pictures and shit. Or like pics that he took of her like bent over while she wasn’t looking🤭

Caught - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : slight masturbation, sex

—

Matt’s POV

It’s currently Friday night and we have the weekend off, so Y/N is spending the night with us. We usually just hang out, eat, play games, watch movies.

Y/N’s been our friend for a good few years, and we’re together a lot. If I’m being honest, she kind of drives me crazy. She’s so perfect and the simplest things she does, quite literally, make me hard.

“Can I pick the movie?” Chris asks, jumping over the couch, landing right next to me.

I shrug, “I don’t really care.”

Nick and Y/N both round the corner, and my eyes are immediately drawn to her. She’s wearing a little baby tee and some booty shorts. It’s not weird for her to be like that, we’ve all been best friends forever now. I’ve just been having new urges for a couple of months.

The two sit on the couch opposite of me and Chris. It’s hard to pull my eyes away from her, but I have to when Chris holds his hand out to me.

“What?” I ask him, raising my eyebrows.

“The remote. Do you not listen?” He retorts.

I only roll my eyes and hand him the remote from beside me. Before my gaze can return to Y/N, I quickly force myself to stare at the blank TV. I don’t know what it is, she’s just got me in some trance lately. Taking a deep breath to push my thoughts away, I roll my neck and shuffle in my seat.

“You good, Matty?” I hear her ask me, causing my head to snap in her direction.

“W-what? Why? I’m fine.” I ramble, before closing my eyes in frustration.

“You seem tense, kid.” Nick calls out.

I just ignore him, a small groan leaving my mouth. Why am I like this? What is this sick shit? I can’t get the thought of bending her over, while she takes all of me, out of my head.

With another heavy breath, I remove my hoodie as I’m beginning to get hot, and place it next to me. I can’t help but adjust myself in my seat again, feeling hot and bothered.

Of course, seeing as I have the worst self control, my eyes slowly trail back over to Y/N. She sat against the arm of the couch, one of her legs perched up, her foot flat with her knee against her chest, her other leg lying beneath that one. The position she’s in shows off her juicy thighs and encircles her core that’s covered by the thin fabric of her shorts. I can feel myself growing harder, wanting nothing more than to drag her back to my room and rail her senseless. Quickly, I grab my hoodie and place it on my lap to cover my now obvious erection.

“Dude!” Chris whisper shouts at me, “What the fuck is going on with you?”

My head shoots over to him in a panic, eyes frantic, wondering if he knows what’s going through my head right now. I can’t even form words, my breath stuck in my throat, so I just shrug and wave him off. My attention is pulled from him when I see Y/N stand up and head into the kitchen. Without thinking at all, I’m on my feet and following her.

When I round the corner, my footsteps come to a halt. There she was, bent over in the fridge. I suck in a breath, gasping at the sight in front of me. Her shorts were riding up her ass, her cheeks being completely visible, her shorts pressed tightly against her pussy. I felt like I wasn’t in control of myself as I pulled my phone out, bringing up my camera and snapping a picture of her. Just as I bring my phone back down, she turns around and locks eyes with me, my face immediately flushing.

“Hey.” She speaks, her voice soft. “Are you okay?”

I nod, gulping, “Can you toss me a water?”

She does so, a smile gracing her face in the process. I give her a small thanks and head back to my room, rather than the living room with the rest of them. I needed space to think without having her consume everything around me.

Once I shut myself in my room, I spread out on my bed, closing my eyes and sighing, completely overwhelmed with my feelings.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been an hour or so since the movie ended, everyone else was in their rooms, presumably going to sleep. I’ve just been scrolling through my phone, not really paying attention to anything on my screen as my mind was occupied elsewhere.

I can’t stop thinking about Matt; he seemed off tonight. I want to make sure he is okay, but so far, he’s only been lying and saying he’s fine. I know him better than that, I know he’s bothered by something, I just don’t know what.

Part of me wants to get up and go to his room, forcing him to talk to me. Another part is telling me to wait until he’s ready. Surely, it’s not too serious. As if the universe is telling me to go to his room, the ‘low battery’ notification pops up on my screen. My charger is in his room.

With a small huff, I remove my blanket from me and stand up from the couch, immediately heading towards his room. I figured he was probably sleeping like Nick and Chris, so I just quietly walk in. However, I couldn’t have been more wrong as he was definitely not sleeping.

His back was turned towards me, but I could see his right arm moving up and down as his head was slightly tilted back. It didn’t take a genius to realize what he was doing, so I just step backwards in an attempt to leave. As I’m about to turn out the door, his bright phone screen catches my eye. You would think he’s watching porn or something, but he’s staring at a picture. More so a picture of me. A picture of me from not even two hours ago.

“Matt!” I whisper shout, bewildered at the fact that he was jerking off to a picture that he sneakily took of me.

He jumps, flinching in embarrassment as he locked his phone and covered himself up. It took him a minute before he finally turned around to come face to face with me, his cheeks bright red.

“What are you doing in here?” He asks, his voice frantic as his eyes dart all around.

“I came to get my charger. What are you doing in here?” I reply, emphasizing my question. When he doesn’t answer, I continue, “I saw you, Matt.”

His mouth begins to open and shut, unsure of what to say. He closes his eyes and inhales, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You took a picture of me.” I state, as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious by now.

He nods, licking his lips nervously. I could see that he was anxiously anticipating my reaction, but I didn’t even know what to do. What do you do when you’re turned on by your best friend touching himself to a picture he took of you?

I walk over to the bed and sit next to him, “Is this the first time you’ve done this?”

He avoids eye contact with me and shakes his head from left to right, indicating he’s done it before. He opens his phone up, and immediately scrolls to the next picture and, once again, it’s of me. I was wearing a bralette and a mini skirt that barely covered my ass. One of my legs was perched up on the table as I leaned forward to put on my shoe. My asscheeks were out and you could clearly see my lace underwear beneath the skirt.

“Damn, I look good.” I smirk, pleased with the photo.

“Yeah, you do.” He chuckles, immediately stopping and looking back at my face, trying to read my emotions.

“So, you’re fantasizing about me?” I question.

He bashfully nods, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why didn’t you just come to me?”

He shrugs, “And say what? Hey Y/N, so like, I kind of want to fuck the shit out of you.”

I blush, as if it isn’t obvious by the fact that he was jerking off to me, and mimic his shrug. “What if I wanted you to fuck the shit out of me?”

His eyes widen, thrown back by my statement. After taking a moment to recover, he scoots closer to me and softly grabs my face with one of his hands, bringing me closer to him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, looking into my eyes for confirmation.

Instead of responding with words, I close the gap between us and press my lips onto him. The kiss is short and sweet, more so testing the waters. It only takes a second before we meet again, our lips lapping one another’s perfectly. He placed his free hand on my back, pulling me impossibly closer as my hands make their way to his hair. A soft groan erupts from his throat as I give his hair a nice tug, the sound of his sultry voice going straight to my core.

Gaining a new found confidence, Matt swiftly pulls me onto his lip and shoves his tongue in my mouth. He’s licking and sucking everything, swapping saliva. I can feel his dick bulging between my legs, fully rock hard. His hands meet my hips, grinding me against him, eliciting a moan from my lips.

“I want you so bad.” He groans into my ear as his lips work on my neck.

“Then take me.” I say, allowing him more access with a tilt of my head.

Like a flip switched, Matt quickly removes my shirt, leaving me topless in his lap. He groans at the sight of my bare chest, his hands bringing both of my boobs into his palms, squeezing them tenderly. He pinches both of my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, kneading them. Soft whimpers left my lips as he did so, his wet mouth also leaving kisses all over my neck.

My hands grab the hem of his shirt and I pull it over his head, connecting our lips once more after. His arm wraps around my back and he turns, laying me flat on his bed, taking position knelt above me, his mouth never leaving mine. His fingers hook in the waistband of my shorts, lingering as if waiting for approval, so I pull away and give him a nod when we make eye contact.

Within seconds, the rest of my clothes are on the floor and I lay bare in front of him. He’s on his knees, in between my legs, and his eyes are boring into me, his pupils blown out with lust. I can see his dick protruding from his boxers, begging to be released from its restrictions, eager for any kind of stimulation. He swiftly removes the piece of clothing, before laying down right beside me.

He pulls me into him, one of his hands on my face, the other on my bare ass. He slams his lips into mine, his tongue instantly swiping against my bottom lip, asking for entrance, to which I gave him. Our tongues battled for dominance, Matt shoving his in my mouth, exploring as much as he can while our teeth clash together. With every touch, I feel my arousal pooling between my legs, drenching my folds. Matt squeezes my ass, kneading it before his fingers trail closer to my opening. He reaches down to my pussy and swipes his fingers between my folds, emitting a moan from me.

“Mmm. You’re so wet for me.” He groans into my lips.

Without another word, he slides two fingers through my slit, immediately entering my hole. He swallows every moan that comes from my mouth as he kisses me, hard. His fingers continue pumping in and out, getting me ready to take him. My hand envelops his throbbing dick, squeezing as I pumped my hand, causing him to shudder and buck his hips.

“I want to be inside of you.” He groans, still bucking his hips.

“Please. I need you so bad, daddy.” I moan out as his fingers thrust back into me.

He swiftly removes his hand, shoving his fingers in my mouth as he rolls me over so that my back is against his chest. I suck on his fingers, cleansing them of my juices. He takes his hand from my mouth and wraps it around my throat at the same time he sinks himself into me. I can’t help them lewd moans that erupt from me. His hand moves from my throat to my hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling my head back, making me arch my back. His opposite hand grabs my leg and lifts it up to the side, giving himself better access as his thrusts pick up.

“Oh fuck.” I moan, my face scrunching up in pleasure.

He picks up the pace, railing in and out of me. He leans forward, his mouth meeting the side of my neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin. I can hear his low moans right in my ear and it was turning me on so much more.

“Shit. Feels s-so good, Matt.” I gasp, reveling in the way he’s making me feel.

His thrusts turn more aggressive, my legs now shaking and my breath catching in my throat. His grip on my hair tightens, pulling my head back even more. His eyes meet mine and he’s got a devilish smirk on his face.

“Nah, baby. What’s my name?”

With the way he’s pounding into me, I can’t even think straight. His hand reaches under my leg, using his forearm to keep it up, his fingers meeting my clit, and rubbing in fast, tight circles.

“What’s my name?” He repeats, his tone more demanding and aggressive.

“Daddy! Fu - fuck, daddy! Nghh.” I whine out, my body convulsing.

“Such a good girl. Cum for daddy, so I can fill you up.” He groans, keeping the exact same rhythm with his hand and hips.

My mind is hazy and I can’t hear anything but the sound of my rapid heartbeat as I let go. I shake and tremble, unable to keep my composure as pornographic moans leave my mouth. A moment later, I feel his hot cum shoot into me, loud moans escaping from him. He continues fucking into me, letting us ride out our highs.

He pulls out and drops my legs, immediately rubbing my hip and thigh, as if sensing the incoming charlie horse. After a minute, he flips me over to face him, staring into my eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just gazing at me, intensely. Suddenly a grin pulls to his lips and they’re meeting mine in a sweet and tender kiss.

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” He asks, brushing the sweaty hair out of my face. “Then, maybe spend the night in here with me?”

“Sounds good.” I grin back, pulling him in for another kiss.

—

a/n : mixed feelings ab this, sorry if it’s not what you had in mind! hope you enjoy:) send in reqs 🫶🏼

[feralnando]

Take your punishment

Sexting Mark while he’s on a work trip is all fun and games until he comes home.

Pairings: Mark Webber x Fem!Reader x Fernando Alonso - set in @percervall’s Fuck it Universe

Warnings: it got feral up in here.

Smut, Sexting, oral (m receiving), masturbation, dom!Mark, use of restraints, clothing being ripped off, cuckolding, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, hair pulling, use of ‘Daddy’, P in V, unprotected sex, spanking.

Word count : 1.1k

-

“All good?” David Coulthard queries, trying to stifle a laugh. He’d just watched Mark splutter half of his freshly made coffee over himself, the table and his phone - which he quickly slams face down.

“Y-yeah, peachy.. mate..” was the Aussie’s strained reply as he scrambles to wipe up the mess he’d made. He’d only seen the thumbnail of the video Fernando had sent him but that was enough to not only make him wear his coffee, but know that he needed to find some privacy, ASAP.

“Just, uh, need to clean myself up,” Mark mutters, excusing himself to the bathroom in a manner that he hopes wouldn’t inform David of his steadily growing erection.

-

Closing the door behind him, Mark unlocks his phone. Instantly greeted by the image of you on your knees between Fernando’s legs, big doe eyes looking up at the camera as Fernando lazily strokes himself with his free hand.

“Fucking hell,” Mark hisses, using his free hand to unzip his trousers in an attempt to relieve some pressure. Pushing down his boxers, his cock springs free, a bead of precum already forming.

“You gonna show Mark what he’s missing, nena?” He hears Fernando coo from behind the camera, tapping his cock against your lips.

You flash a coy smile, trailing your tongue along the length of the Spaniard's cock before taking it into your mouth completely, the action eliciting a moan from him that makes Mark shudder, now so desperate for release that he’s given up on feeling the shame of having a wank in a bathroom stall of his workplace.

He strokes his cock at the pace you’re servicing Fernando, wishing it was you. The sounds coming from the video alone would be enough to finish him off, but paired with the sight of you - bobbing up and down Fernando’s cock as you maintain eye contact with the camera - it doesn’t take long for him to be biting back a string of curses as he spills over his hand.

‘You’re both getting punished when I’m back home!’ he types once he’s cleaned up and tucked back into his boxers.

-

The punishment, as it turns out, doesn’t feel like much of a punishment to you. Mark having a fistful of your hair as he fucks you into the mattress, would class as a pretty good evening in your books.

Fernando however, is not having a good time, at all.

Within a few minutes of Mark arriving home, Fernando found himself being manhandled to the bedroom.

You find his predicament amusing, until Jenson scoops you up in his arms and you’re following suit.

“Don’t look at me like that doll, I’m just doing as Mark asked,” the Brit shrugs “sounds like you deserve it though,”he adds, playfully nipping at your ear before throwing you over his shoulder.

As soon as you’re deposited into the bedroom, you see that Fernando has already been stripped and unceremoniously dumped onto the wooden chair in the corner.

He starts to protest but the second Mark grabs his jaw and forces eye contact, he quickly rethinks back chatting the older man.

“I was at work!” Mark growls, maintaining his grip on Fernando as he shoots a look over to you, as if reminding you that you’re in trouble too. “You’re lucky David wasn’t sitting closer to me..you want Coulthard to see what’s mine?” You both shake your heads, swallowing thickly. “Didn’t think so,” he huffs, letting go of Fernando’s jaw with a shove and pacing over to the bag he returned home with.

Fernando, quite frankly, can't decide if he’s terrified or more horny than he was to begin with as Mark returns to his side, armed with navy bondage rope.

“You’re gonna stay still and watch me ruin her, got it?” He hisses, pulling Fernando’s wrists behind his back and securing them to the chair.

“M-Mark, is this necessary?” he stammers, tugging against the restraints as Mark moves on to binding his ankles to the chair legs - spreading him wide.

Mark doesn’t dignify this with a response. Instead, once satisfied that he’s fully restricted, he bows his head, licking a long strip up the Spaniard’s cock. A helpless whine escapes him as Mark turns his attention back to you - leaving him painfully hard.

“Get over there and face him,” Mark orders and you’re moving without hesitation, eager to please. You breath hitches as you feel his presence behind you, big hands sliding up and down your body as he toys with the silk of your dress. The tearing sound that follows leaves you dumbfounded as he rips the clothing off of you. “The fuck, Mark!” You gasp as you watch the fabric fall to the floor.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he hums, trailing his fingers across your now bare skin - watching the goosebumps form. You go to protest, but his mouth on your neck stops any coherent thoughts you’re having.

You notice that his voice softens slightly as he asks for your colours. The ragged yet reassuring echo of ‘green’ from both lovers has him picking up the pace as his fingers snake their way lower “she’s so fucking wet, Nando.” He groans.

Fernando whines at the lewd sounds that follow as Mark expertly curls his fingers into you. He’s already rock hard and looking exceptionally pitiful about it. His cock twitching helplessly as he takes in the sight in front of him.

Knowing just how to torture you both, Mark wraps your hair around his fist and tugs, using it to direct your gaze at Fernando.

“Break eye contact with him and I'll edge you till you’re crying, got it?” A shiver runs down your spine and all you can do is moan in reply. That clearly isn't enough for Mark, as you feel his hand strike your ass a second later. “I expect a reply, sweetheart”

“Y-yes, yes Daddy,” the sound that the term rewards you with, is downright sinful.

“That’s my good girl..” he smirks, shoving you down onto the bed as you desperately try to keep your eyes locked on the wide eyed hazel ones staring back at you. You almost falter as he pulls your underwear to the side, teasing you with the tip of his cock.

“You gonna take your punishment like a good little whore?” You would reply to this, but the sensation of him suddenly filling you leaves you devoid of any words and you feel the sharp sting of his hand once more.

“I asked you a question,” Mark all but growls in your ear.

“Yes-.. Yes, Daddy,” you’re quick to correct yourself. You can feel Mark smile against your skin as he murmurs his praise. He presses your back against his front, a hand curling around your throat to make sure you keep your head up and eyes locked on Fernando. Judging by the way the Spaniard is looking at the both of you –eyes glazed over in lust and cock weeping–, you are in for a long night.

Well, here it is! First fic in a long while, so please be kind..

This was the result of the brainrot sessions ™ with @percervall , who helped me out so much with this 🖤 ily Mar!

Feedback on this filth would be greatly appreciated.