#his wet cat eyes have captivated me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chuubian · 2 months ago

Text

Let the light in

Tags Beast Dazai x gn civilian reader, secrets, obsession (kinda), kidnapping, Dazai just needs to be loved, pathetic wet cat Dazai

Summary Your boyfriend, Dazai, has been acting weird. You suspect he's been seeing other people, but the reality is worse than you could've imagined.

A/N This one is rlly long again but i didn't feel like splitting it up into parts I'm so sorry

A loud ring cuts through the pleasant atmosphere of the cafe- dragging you out of your thoughts. You turn your head to look at the source of the interruption. There's a tall man at the door. The bags under his eyes are dark and heavy, pulling the rest of him down with them, hunched over, slowly making his way to the counter. Taking in the rest of his appearance, you notice the darkness of his eyes, and the dullness of his skin- stretched over fragile bone, giving his face a gaunt, hollow appearance. He seemed to be on the verge of death.

“What can i get-”

“Get me a regular coffee.”

Rude. He didn't even give you a chance to finish. Your eyebrows furrow, fingers tapping on the counter impatiently. Blood boiling, you decide not to start anything, instead turning to prepare his drink. There wasn’t anyone else in the shop so you could take your time. Grabbing a pour-over brewer, you set it down with a loud clunk. Making coffee was something that usually relaxed you. Warm steam rose up, washing over your face, cleansing your body of the irritation flowing through your veins.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the man settle down, taking a seat on the stool in front of you. You pour scalding hot water over the grounds, watching them bloom and bubble. Golden liquid circulates through the coffee, dripping down into the glass container under it. The see-through jug turns foggy and opaque- filling the entire brewer with not only freshly brewed coffee, but hot water vapor. The scent of a fresh brew is loud- filling the room, sticking to the walls and your clothing. It's hard to miss it.

You pour the man's coffee into a white mug, setting it down infront of him. His gaze had not left you the entire time, it was unsettling. A freezing cold shiver traveled down your spine. What was with this guy? You had never met anyone that was so ominous. So haunting. His lips stretched into an unnatural smile. It looked off. Like he had never done it previously.

"Thank you."

His voice was softer, not as freezing or rude as he had treated you only a few minutes ago. You set down a little jug of creamer and some sugar cubes. He didn't seem like the type to like sweet coffee, but you didn't like to make assumptions. His slender fingers reached out to pick five sugars, putting them in his coffee and so much creamer that it turns into a light beige color. Seriously? What is wrong with this guy.... He tips the mug back, chugging like its water.

"It's delicious."

"It's basically just milk and sugar with everything you put in it."

His dry lips quirk up into a small grin- genuine this time.

"Still tasty."

The only sound resonating through the cafe is soft classical music and the man's quiet drinking. You hadn't realized before but... he was so handsome. Dark hair framed his thin, pale face. His eye is big and dark, like a black hole, swallowing up all the life around him. Did he lose his other eye though? Why is there gauze covering it? His features were small and delicate, nothing like his demeanor. There was something so captivating, so uncanny about him. He almost seemed like he was half-corpse. Everything about him was so cold.

When he finally finished his drink, he asked for the check- pulling out a black metallic credit card from his wallet to pay with. You looked him up and down. Was he rich? You wouldn't doubt it. His clothing seemed to be good quality. Signing the bill, he slides the receipt back to you.

"Have a good day!"

You wave him off but he doesn't respond. As he disappears out the door, the tension from the room dissipates, only leaving a churning sensation in your lower stomach. Like your belly is eating itself. You look back down at the check. He left a huge tip. 45%. And his number.

Call Me :p

It wasn't uncommon for customers to try and hit on you, but they had never been like this guy. And none had been as bewitching. Something in you urged you to call him. To not let him slip away. You punch his number into your cell phone, a prickling sensation spreading over your skin. When your phone asks for a name, you don't know what to put. Fuck. Why didn't you ask?? What are you supposed to call him?? Suddenly, a realization comes over you, the fog clearing from your mind. You were fucking stupid. You pull the crumpled receipt back out from your pocket, looking over the messy signature. Dazai Osamu.

—

In the few weeks you had known Dazai, he had completely overtaken your life. He frequently sent you gifts, called you everyday for hours at a time, taking you out on beautiful dates every week. He always came back to your apartment after, but for some reason, you were never allowed in his house. Any time you would bring up the subject, his face would turn impassive, voice growing frigid. What could he possibly be hiding?

"Don't worry about it. We can always go to your place anyways right? What's so important about mine?"

"I guess... but why can't I? It's just weird that you won't let me."

He presses a small kiss to your forehead. Immediately, all your muscles seem to even out, relaxing.

"It's just... not somewhere you want to see alright? You trust me right? I have your best interest in mind."

When he puts it that way, it makes sense. Why are you so suspicious? He hasn't done anything wrong. He's been perfect in every way so far. Maybe it's just new relationship anxiety. Things have been moving quickly but that doesnt mean Dazai can’t have boundaries. You sigh, wrapping your arms around his slender waist. Solid bone digs into your flesh painfully, sharp aching throbs lighting your nerves on fire. It always hurt to be so close to him, but you couldn't stop going back. Being with the brunette was too addictive. You wished you could have all his attention to yourself.

"Let's go back to yours."

You nod, taking his cool bandaged hand in yours, leading him through the streets towards your apartment. As you two walked hand in hand, you noticed something that never happened previously. It was noon, but the street was relatively empty. This is a big city, why is it so still? Everything is so peaceful. The few people that are walking, are looking down at the floor, seeming humiliated- almost distressed. Men refuse to even look in your direction, deciding the wall is much more interesting than anything else.

"It's so empty..."

Dazai hums quietly, looking straight ahead, not answering. It's uncharacteristic of him. He usually can't shut up. He pulls you closer, arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you up against him. You walk back home with him, an awkward silence fills the air. You took a long deep breath, eyes darting all over. Moisture beads on your forehead. It's far too warm. You step away from Dazai, taking hold of his hand again. It's uncomfortable to be too close right now.

When you arrive at the door of your apartment, the pressure weighing on your shoulders lifts. It's home. You stick the key in the door. A jangling noise fills the air- metal against metal, clinking and working to unfasten the padlock. Once the door opens, cool air rushes towards you, refreshing your overheated skin. A shiver runs down your body to your fingertips. The feeling of tranquility descends over your muscles.

Before you can take a step forward, Dazais slender fingers wrap around your wrist.He pulls you inside, going through the doorframe- his shoulders sag forward, letting out a breath he had been holding the entire walk home. The scowl that had carved its way between his eyebrows finally evened out, leaving only smooth skin between them. He takes off his coat and scarf. He hands them to you, already anticipating you'll do everything for him.

You grab hold of his stuff, taking off your coat too. When you reach up to hang your stuff up, you feel thin arms wrapping around your waist- smooth plaster grazed against your clothing, his nails biting into the fabric, keeping you in place. Warmth radiates from his body. Overwhelming and stifling. You wanted to push his arms off of you. To free yourself from his crushing restraint. Maybe you shouldn't have let him come over. It was difficult to behave normally around him. What is he hiding?

Dazai rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw. His dark hair brushes against your cheek. You don't want to do this right now. Not like this. He needs to go.

"Dazai..."

You grab his wrists, prying his arms off you.

"Hm? What's wrong, darling?"

"It's just... I've told you everything about myself but I barely know anything about you. Why?"

His arms tighten around you. He stretches his lips into a tight smile.

"We went over this. You need to trust me, honey. What do you want to know anyways? I'll tell you anything."

"Well for starters... I don't even know where you work. Where is your family? Are you close with them? You never mention your mom or anything."

His eyes blacken. Absorbing all light. Empty and chilling. It sends a shudder down your spine. The skin crinkles around his eyes, teeth flashing, smile widening. It seemed forced.

"Well... I work in marketing, and my family lives in Osaka. I moved away for University and i've been here ever since. I call my mom every day, i love her dearly and even though we dont see eachother often, were very tightly-knit."

He sounded like he was telling the truth... Maybe the reason he never mentioned his family is because they're far away, but something in the back of your mind was nagging at you. Did his explanation even make sense?

"Where did you study? What company? How can you afford all the gifts with just a marketing job?"

You shoot out questions as fast as you can, trying to catch him off guard.

"Yokohama city university. Mikatsu group. I have a good position. Money isn't something I need to worry about."

He answered without hesitation. Expression giving nothing away. He must be telling the truth. He seemed so sure of himself.

"...Really?"

"Really."

He looked into your eyes, maintaining eye contact until you decided to look away. Dazai gave you no reason to doubt him. He just wanted trust. But there was something telling you he was lying.

"I believe you."

You lean back into his touch, melting under his ministrations. He leans down. Pressing his lips to your temple, he starts walking you back to your room.

"Come on... Let me help you relax, yeah?

—

Stillness seems to follow you around. In the cafe. In the street during rush hour. Even in shopping centers that are supposed to be overflowing with people. Whenever you stepped foot anywhere in public, the floor cleared and your surroundings were drained of people. They didn't even look up as they stream past you, rushing out like water that's been repelled by oil. Oil that for some reason just can't get the harrowing feeling that their boyfriend is lying to them, to stop.

So you decide you have to investigate. Maybe it's absurd. Dressing up in all black and dark sunglasses, you head out- making your way down the stairs, up the sidewalk to Dazai's supposed place of work, and hiding in the alleyway beside the old building. Waiting for three hours, from seven to ten, just to make sure you can see him if he comes in late, proves to be more uninteresting than anything else you've ever done. Why didn't you just ask what time he goes in?

Now you have to spend too much time in this dirty alleyway. The smell of grease and trash permeates the hard concrete of the buildings and sidewalk- it would be unthinkable for them to ever be apart, especially when the ground is covered in decaying food and random black stains you would never want to know the origins of. You don't dare to touch anything around you, deciding to just stand. Even if it hurts your legs.

It's been at least an hour. Where is he? People have been filtering in and out, unaware of the person observing them in the shadows. This is ridiculous. You should call and find out. The fluorescent glow of your cell phone blinds you, making you squint as you scroll down your contact list and press on Dazai's name. A ring circulates through the air. You look up, startled out of your trance.

Of course he's there.

You see him dig his phone out of his pocket. He looks at the screen, thumbing at the buttons and holding it up to his ear. You do the same.

"Hello?"

"Dazai... uh...where are you?"

Fuck. Does that sound suspicious? You definitely should have planned better.

"I'm going into work right now. Why? You miss me?"

He's smiling, earnestly, stopped in front of the door to the building. His suit is finely pressed, his bandages are clean and neatly arranged. He looks so good.

"No.. uh... I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over afterwards? Do you usually go to work at this time?"

"I do. Are you suspicious of me again darling? Is that why you're watching me right now?"

His voice had flattened. Dazai turns his head slowly to look in your direction. Your blood runs cold and your heart hammers in your chest. His gaze was piercing, seeing right through you and into your very core. Past all the deceit. You felt naked. Stripped of all the pomp and frills.

As he steps closer, his sharp features become clearer to you. His lips are pursed together, hands clenched so hard his knuckles are turning white. A prickling sensation shoots up your spine. You try to look around frantically for a place to hide but it's a pointless endeavor. Sooner than your shaky legs can move, you feel a heavy hand gripping your shoulder tightly, forcing you to turn and look at the offender.

Dazai was grinning.

"Why do you look so scared, darling?"

"How did you-"

He cuts you off.

"You're so obvious... But seriously why are you following me? I thought you trusted me. Did you think I was lying?"

Your hands reach out for Dazai, curling in the fabric of his suit jacket. Taking a long, slow, deep breath, your eyebrows pinch together.

"I-i'm sorry I don't know... I just had this feeling..."

"Don't listen to your feelings, listen to me."

His grip turns gentle, boney hand traveling up to your scalp, petting your hair lovingly. You look up at his handsome face, eyes shining with amusement. A tremble runs up your body.

"You're not mad?"

Dazai holds your face.

"Of course not. I just think you're crazy and a little silly, but I'm not mad."

He leans down. His warm lips press against your forehead.

"I'm not crazy-"

"You are. Don't deny it. You figured out where I worked and stalked me."

His voice is sharp, reminding you of the severity of your transgression.

"Sorry..."

A low chuckle rumbles in his throat.

"Why should I forgive you huh?"

Your eyebrows pinch together. Really? You're not begging for his mercy.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. Go on, tell me how much you love me, I'm listening!"

He puts his hands on his hips, stepping back and puffing his chest out. You could feel the blood simmering under your skin.A displeased sound leaves your lips without your permission, unintentionally encouraging Dazai to keep going.

"Don't be shy, I know how much you love me."

Has he always been so irritating? You swear he wasn't like this when you first met.

"Look.. I'm sorry for following you but I'm not saying that."

Sighing, he looks you up and down. His eyes are downcast. Disappointed.

"You dressed up for this? You're not in a spy movie you know."

You push him away lightly, cheeks heating up.

"It helped me get in the mindset."

"I'm sure."

Dazai steps forward, arms coiling themselves around your shoulders. His rigid, skinny sternum presses against your chest. It's ice cold and sharp.

"You look stunning."

Dazai noses at your throat, a fluttering feeling nudging at the walls of your stomach. Pushing the limits of your anatomy. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing. He keeps going, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck- his dry lips scrape against the surface, sending small sparks of pleasure down your spine. Bandaged hands migrate down to your lower tummy, lifting your shirt and gently caressing the small bit of flesh there.

"Ready to eat, really."

A breath catches in your throat. Your hands shakily grasp onto his arms. Before you can lean in to kiss him, he drags himself away from you.

"I'm gonna be late, I should get going."

You cross your arms, feet tapping against the concrete.

"You're such an asshole."

"Hm? What did I do? You know I have work right now."

You huff, shoving his shoulder away softly.

"You knew what you were doing."

His lips stretch into a sleazy smirk.

"Yeah, I did. But I really do have to go."

Dazai pulls you closer, hands on your waist.

"Do you want me to come over later?"

You can't bring yourself to make eye contact, nodding.

"Fine."

He snorts gleefully, kissing your cheek before bolting into the building. His feet slam against the floor as he calls out to you.

"Get ready for me!"

You're left there, again. All alone. It happened so fast you could barely process everything that happened. Your brain was scrambled- whiplash blurring your vision and filling your ears with cotton. You don't even get to say a proper goodbye when Dazai is gone, inside the building and presumably hard at work.

Gathering what little remains of your pride, you drag your feet across the pavement, slowly making your way down the empty sidewalk. The minute amount of people around you, refuse to look up. How can they even tell where they're going honestly? Were you that ugly that they couldn't bear to, even briefly, glance over at you?

Despite the fact that no one was looking up at you, there was still a persistent feeling of being watched. No matter how fast you ran, how furiously your lungs worked to keep oxygen in your lungs, Or how strenuously your heart worked to pump the blood though your arteries- you could not escape the penetrating gaze. You whip your head around, hoping to catch the freak in the act, but nothing was there. Only a vacant, silent street.

Was it just your imagination?

It couldn't be.

You stand still. Glaring at the deserted sidewalk behind you.

"Come out! I know you're there!"

Nothing happens. The bird's morning songs fade into hushed, uneasy chirps. Even nature can sense the impending crisis.

"I don't have all day! Why are you following me?!"

A small shuffling noise comes from the alleyway behind you. As soon as you turn around you're greeted with a short man who has white hair and a bizarre haircut. The collar around his neck looks heavy and painful. What's wrong with him? He's hiding his face, peeking up at you almost... scared?

"You. Why are you following?! Who are you?!"

You don't dare to get closer. He could be dangerous. Who knows if this stalker would get violent.

He doesn't answer.

"My boyfriends a cop! You better answer me!"

It's a complete lie. But he doesn't know that.

"No he's not."

You're taken aback. How the fuck would he know.

"What?! Yes he is! How long have you been stalking me? You don't even know basic information about me. You're bad at this! Find something else to do!"

"I'm not stupid. I know what I'm doing."

The man's voice was soft- weak and meek. You slowly make your way over to him, arms crossed in front of you.

"Then you should know my boyfriend can beat you up."

He stays deathly silent, hunched over. Almost like he's an animal- ready to attack or make his escape.

"You better give me one good reason not to call him up right now."

"It's pointless."

Your eyes narrow.

"Why would you say that? You don't know anything. You're a degenerate freak. He'll kill you."

He stares at you, eyes boring into your soul. He seems confused. The white haired man's head is tilted curiously- looking at you like youre a dumbass.

"He's the one who sent me."

What.

Dazai??

"Huh?"

The man steps forward.

"You didn't know? He just wanted you to stay safe... I swear it's not me being a creep, but with his work, h-he's worried about your safety."

This man is delusional. His work? What could a man in marketing be trying to protect you from?

"You're crazy."

"I'm telling the truth!"

Does he truly think you'll believe something so ridiculous? Your hands clench, face heating, breath picking up. You're seriously in the mood to put him in his place yourself.

"Stop lying."

He senses that you're getting angry.

"I have proof!"

"Show me. It better be real."

The man pulls out a flip phone with unsteady hands, snapping it open, and pressing a few buttons. When he turns the phone over to you, you are horrified by the amount of pictures taken without your knowledge. It's hundreds. Pictures taken through the cafe windows, from behind while you're walking, of you out with friends. It's only been a few weeks. How are there so many?? Your eyes widen, blood draining from your face. A dreadful feeling forms in your stomach.

This can be true. You frantically take hold of the device, holding the radiant screen close to your eyes, uncaring of the damage it could cause to your sight. Pressing a few buttons you go to the contact information. It's his number. You would recognize it anywhere. But what if it's fake?

"What's your name?"

"Atsushi."

You look back down at the phone, thumb hovering over the keys.

"Atsushi. Okay... you better not be lying to me."

Before you can overthink it, you press the call button. Your hands are shaking as you bring the phone up to your ear. You hardly have to hear the rings when a deep voice comes through.

"Atsushi. What is it?"

Chills run down your spine. It can't be him. Why does he sound so distant? Like when you first met him. You quickly hang up, handing the phone back to Atsushi. Your abdomen feels like it's eating itself. Churning and swirling. A hollow vortex swallowing you up.

"W-what does Dazai work in again?"

Atsushi's face gives nothing away.

"Management…?"

You roll your eyes. He knows exactly what you mean.

"Where."

"If he hasn't told you, I can't either."

Your eyebrows pinch together, scowling.

"Fine."

You toss the phone back to him.

"If you won’t tell me, I'll figure it out myself."

The despair in your gut turned into burning white hot rage coursing through your veins. This time, you couldn't even enjoy the empty street on your way back home- stomping past the gardens you usually visit when you're out alone. Your entire body was trembling, both with anger and anguish. How dare he? He made you feel like you were crazy! He lied to you this entire time?! Why?!? Brass keys rattle loudly as you try to unlock the door.

The door unlatches and swings open. Emptiness is the only thing you can discern when you walk through the threshold. Dazai, the person you once trusted isn't here. Even when he does finally make his way back to you, the lies he told can never be untold. The walls shake as you slam the opening shut- anticipating the storm that's about to come, quivering nervously.

Time goes by faster than expected as you wait for Dazai. Your mind is racing- trying to process everything you knew and everything you didn't. What was he thinking? Why? What else had he lied about? It's been hours and your brain still can't figure it out. Why? It can't be that bad... He could be on the verge of bankruptcy and it wouldn't have mattered to you. Maybe he was just a pathological liar.

Your head is spinning in circles, exploring any path it could, trying to find its way to the truth. That's the important thing. Your blood is boiling- bubbles of frustration rise up to the surface, bursting in vicious outbursts. The resounding scream you let out make a dryness and pulsating throbs echo through your esophagus. Your ears ring horribly.

You're dizzy. And there's no other choice left but to confront him.

The echo of a knock on the door reverberates through the room. Your legs feel sluggish, you have to force the muscles to work. Force yourself to go to the entrance. Your skin heats, and small drops of sweat start forming around your hairline. Quickly, you wipe your forehead and hands off. When the door swings open, you're met with the face you dreaded the most. Dazai.

He doesn't even wait for you to let him in before he lunges at you. His skinny arms are surprisingly strong, squeezing your waist and pulling you closer.

"I missed you so much honey."

He buries his face in the crook of your neck. Warmth engulfs you, dragging you in. Your head knows you should push him away. You should be confronting him- but your body wants to give in, to give it up and just forget about everything. After all, did it really matter? It's just his job, he isn't a bad person.

With great effort, you managed to separate his hands from your midriff.

"Dazai. We need to talk."

He smiles, pulling you right back in.

"No we don't, come on you seem tense. I'm already staying up all night. We’ll talk after."

He insists, hastily pressing gentle kisses to your jaw and neck. You thoughtlessly tilt your head back, giving him free reign. Dazai doesnt waste a second, nipping at the delicate skin. Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, blood rushing up to your head. It's hard to keep your composure. A soft gasp escapes your lips.

"See? You need this."

Dazai is merciless- when you try to get him away, he dives right back in. He’s relentless.

"D-dazai, I'm serious!"

After wrestling with him for a few minutes he finally backs off.

"What is it?"

His voice is flat, eyes darkening- he sighs and steps behind you, chin resting on your shoulder. It's a drastic change from his former appearance. He definitely knew more than he let on.

"Tell me the truth."

He doesn't answer.

"Please dazai... Why is this such a big deal for you? I don't care where you work, I just can't be with someone who keeps lying to me."

He tightens his grip on you.

"I can't tell you."

"Really. Why not?"

Dazai turns you around to face him. His fingers dig into your sides.

"Because it's just not important. I thought you loved me. This shouldn't be a big deal if you truly do."

That was so unfair.

"Of course i do. But I don't want you to keep lying to me... please."

He stares at you for a few seconds, judging your expression.

"I work as a programmer."

"Nope."

"I do!"

You give him a pointed look.

"Fine, I'm actually a lawyer."

"Dazai."

"Doctor."

"Don't make me laugh."

"Sanitation."

"No."

"Barista."

"Seriously? How long are you gonna keep this up?"

Dazai runs his hand through his hair, clearly stressed out.

"You really want to know? You're not gonna like it."

"Dazai... come on, you know I'm not like that. I wont stop liking you so easily."

He looks away from you, squinting, deep in thought.

"I work somewhere dangerous."

"Where. Specifically."

He shakily takes hold of your hands. The old bandages are unraveling slowly- revealing more and more of his pale skin. It's littered with scars and scabs. There's a few spots with discoloration, and you can practically see his veins through his skin.

"Promise you won't hate me first."

You raise his hand up to your face, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

"I promise."

He takes in a large lungful of air- releasing the tension from his shoulders.

"I work for... a criminal organization."

You lower your head. A hollow feeling grows in your chest. It's like a huge weight has been plopped onto your shoulders. Your ears stop working for a second as the sound of water rushing resonates through your head- washing in fear and outrage.

"Like.. a gang?"

"Slightly bigger."

You pause.

"How much bigger..."

"Like... Port Mafia sized."

Your body stills. There's a loud ringing in your ear. Scenery of horrible new stories flash past your eyes- destroyed jaws from biting the curb, and hundreds of poisoned civilians as a way to achieve their depraved objectives. What?? You can't find it in yourself to speak up, your voice is weak and cracking.

"A-As a cleaner or something... right? Something that doesn't i-involve..."

Some things were better left unsaid. You couldn't imagine him doing something so cruel. He's not capable of killing someone... right?

"As the boss."

Dazai can't seem to look directly at you. His hands tighten painfully. You try to step away, to process everything, but he won't let you. You just wish the ground would swallow you whole.

How naive of you to ever think Dazai could genuinely be good after lying so much. The small flame of hope that your heart fostered, was blown out within seconds. It left your body freezing to the touch. No longer does the love for him blaze on. Even if it did, it was your duty to extinguish it. You couldn't be with someone so cold-blooded.

"Please say something."

It's like your body is not your own anymore. Like your soul has escaped its bodily imprisonment. You wish it had. Then this would be none of your problem. What could you even say?

"Leave."

He stammers over his words, shocked.

"W-What?"

"I said leave. I don't want to see you any more."

Desperately, he starts shaking his head. The one eye that's exposed widens. They're no longer than deep empty black, but something more ardent. Something frantic.

"No. No. You can't do this to me. I won't let you!"

You lightly squeeze his fingers.

"You can't stop me. It's not your choice to make Dazai... If one person says it's over, it's over."

"I can't be without you. Please."

Abruptly, he drops onto his knees. Hard. Dazais body presses against your leg, fingers sinking into the flesh of your thigh. He holds on urgently. It's like he's climbing a mountain. He's hopelessly struggling to hold on to the last remaining ledges, trying to make his journey up to the top. It's something he knows is futile. The cliff is too steep, there's nowhere left to step, he's tired and starving after all his effort. But he can't help it. He has to. What else is there to do? He can't go back now- it's too late.

The relationship will never be the same. You know it. He knows it. But is it so wrong to want it back? His eyes keep darting around the room, looking for anything to help him. It's... unsettling. You've never seen him like this. He's usually so much more composed- so much harder to read.

"Y-You can't just break up with me. Not like this... I can't live without you."

"You have to find a way.”

Dazai pulls you down to his level, holding your body against his slim sternum. He's trembling.

"Never. I won't go back! I can't!"

You shake your head.

"It's over Dazai."

—

It's been a month since you left Dazai. You haven't dated for long but he's the kind of person that's hard to forget. The little time you spent together left a huge impression on you. Everything felt... oppressive, unfulfilling without him.

Coming back home from work with nothing to look forward to- boring white walls stare back at you. The quietude was ear-piercing. When he was here, the air was filled with laughter and Dazais ominous jokes. They always made you laugh even though they weren't funny. Only the noise of the air conditioning, working tirelessly, was present.

The scent of his cologne had long since faded away. He took back all the clothes he'd left over the weeks. When he was over at your apartment, he'd always start making coffee. But the aroma of those stupid beans made you feel sick now. The taste had turned bitter- and not in the acidic way that was characteristic of the scalding hot golden drink. Within the first week of your break up, you were forced to throw away your coffee machine. In the second week you could barely even handle your job at the cafe anymore.

Working at the cafe is a bleak affair. The coffee shop has too many memories. Coffee in general has too many memories. It was still as peaceful as ever in the shop, but you found yourself rushing through your work- trying to get the customers out as fast as possible. You didn't want them to stare. You didn't want them to see the tears forming in your eyes, or the tremors wracking your body.

Dazai never failed to be the first one in the cafe, even before it opens. Not a single morning would pass without him there. How he gets in you'll never know. The door is still locked and it doesn't seem like he broke anything to get in. You set up for the day, not sparing him another glance. He doesn't speak anyways.

You quickly make him a coffee.

"Thanks."

You don't respond, turning away and cleaning up. Soon, customers will start pouring in. Dazai will be gone by then.

"I miss you."

Your chest tightens and your eyes start to sting. It never seems to get easier.

"Please leave, Dazai."

"No. You need to hear this. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I cant concentrate on my work. Please... You don't have to be upset at me, just imagine I'm someone else, it's fine!"

Why did he have to be so difficult to be with? Part of you wanted to just give in. To feel him close to you. But you couldn't forgive him for something like this so easily.

"Dazai... don't make this harder than it has to be... please..."

When you glance up at him, you notice the small teardrops clinging to his eyelashes. It's a pathetic display of vulnerability- something he would never allow himself to do in front of anyone else. He sees you viewing his pitiful state, hurriedly turning away, hiding his face from sight. It's odd that a man who has been begging you every day to get back together with him, begging you to believe that he'll change, still refuses to be open with you.

"I have to go."

Before you can protest, he's gone. He, of course, leaves an absurdly large tip.

The rest of your shift isn't much better. You were already having an awful day, full of overthinking and longing- but angry business men in a rush to get to their office jobs also had to add onto the pressure. Hopefully they don't notice that you spit in their coffee.

At the end of a long eight hours, your coworker eventually comes to relieve you. As they take over, you clock out and start your journey home. Interestingly, nothing had changed since Dazai and you broke up. The people in public still avoided your gaze, and you altogether.By this point it was obvious they only did that because of your ex-boyfriend. But is it really still necessary? You're not together anymore.

Atsushi's gaze is piercing. He's likely been watching you all day, even when Dazai was with you. His footsteps behind you grew heavier and heavier. He must be tired. A wave of remorse hits you like a tsunami. Your chest throbs painfully for him. You should probably make it up to him- it can't be easy working for Dazai.

Without a second thought you turn around, ready to offer Atsushi a bottle of water at the very least. But what you’re met with isn't the familiar face and uneven bangs of Atsushi. Instead, it's a tall man, completely dressed in black pants and a black hoodie, face shrouded in darkness. Your heart stops. Cautiously, you step back. It's like you're drowning and unable to breathe- water impeding your ability to scream and call for help. What?? Who is this? Where's Atsushi?

"W-who are you?"

The dryness in your mouth and throat make it hard to form proper words. Instead of responding, the man springs forward, arms reaching out to grab you. Instinctively, you try to run, but your legs feel heavy. They won't move no matter how much you try. Strong hands restrain your movements and pull you against him. His nails dig into your waist and arm, making you cry out in pain.

In a frenzy, you try anything you can to at least run- kicking and screaming. With everyone on the street avoiding you, there's no one noticing what's happening. They're all gone. It's just you and the strange man. It's an impossible feat. He's bigger, stronger, taller. Without delay, he holds up an old white rag to your nose and mouth. The last thing your mind recognizes before your vision goes black, is the syrupy scent practically gushing from the cloth.

—

Your eyes flutter open, vision hazy, head inflamed. Your body is completely covered in a cold sweat and begging at you to go back to sleep. Metal chains hinder your ability to move. The solid wood bars of the chair dig into you cruelly. Adjusting your posture only makes the wrists tied behind you pull against your bonds more- you are sure your bones are going to break.

It's impossible to escape. Everything around you is dark, you couldn't see your hand waving in front of your own face if it was free. A constant ear splitting vibration resonates in your head. Where are you? What's going on?

"Ahh... you're finally awake."

A deep voice speaks up from behind, startling you. A fist clamps onto your hair, pulling back brutally. Your scalp was burning.

"Ahh! That hurts!"

The man chuckles, letting go of your hair and putting his large hands on your shoulders.

"Now... Since you're awake, we can get started."

You can hear the sound of his heavy boots slamming against the floor, stopping in front of you. The gleam of his bright phone screen stings your eyes. His face is now visible to you- illuminated by the fluorescent light. He looks dirty. There's muck stuck in the crevices of his wrinkles. An unevenly shaven beard has left behind a green-hued 5 o'clock shadow over the lower half of his face and red inflamed ingrown hairs. A thick layer of oil covers his skin, sealing the filth and grime between his skin and itself.

It's like a bucket of cold water is poured over you. Your muscles seize, freezing, unable to move. But at the same time, your body is trembling- as if expecting something. Why are you here? Is he planning to... No. You shouldn't even think of that.

"Just sit there and look pretty for me okay?"

He raises his phone. The man is pointing the camera towards you, flash on, his grimey hand coming up to graze your chin. He doesn't even speak to you, instead he decides to address the camera recording.

"See what I got here?"

He tightens his clutch on your face.

"If you don't get me 300,000,000 yen by tomorrow at 6 pm, I'll make sure you never see them again... alive, at least."

The man lets go of your cheeks, alternatively opting to bring down his open palm on your face. A gasp emerges from your lungs. Your cheek stings and burns. The blood rushes to your face, overheating your skin. Your jaw clenches. A scorching heat travels down your body. Anger makes your blood boil. You couldn't do anything if you tried at this point. If you could just get out....

"Fuck you. I'll get out of here soon.. and I'm going to kill you."

He howls. As if it was just a silly joke.

"You really think you can do that huh?"

The man's face twists, like he just tasted something bitter. He knees you right in the stomach. You double over. Air rushes out of your lungs, they throb and heave- yearning for another breath. White spots dance in your vision. He ignores your cries of agony.

"You have until tomorrow. Osamu."

He spits out that name. The dirty man pulls your head back, recording the miserable look on your face for his camera before he shuts his phone off and slips it into his pocket again. The noise of his steps fades away. The hinges of the door creak and echo through the empty room. You once again are left in the shadows. Deserted.

So that's what this was about. That bandaged asshole. Resentment and outrage fills your entire being. If he had never gotten involved with you, this never would have happened. It's all his fault. You could never forgive him.

Time flows by slowly. The things you see, the things you hear, become hazy. A tide of seclusion rushes in, polluting the little cognizance you have. The edges of your memory blurr and muddy. All that is left is the bitter taste in your mouth. The ire towards that man. That man who could have avoided this if he just never came into the cafe.

Your head hangs low, unable to hold itself up from the weight. Wood chips invade the space under your nails as you scratch at the arms of the chair. They poke at your sensitive nail beds, drawing out small droplets of blood. Saliva could no longer soothe the cracking of your dry lips. The taste of iron in your mouth was sickening. Every muscle in your body is sore.

In the distance, a faint buzz of excitement tears through the deafening silence. They must be thrilled. It's a lot of money to squeeze out of the boss of the port mafia. It must have taken a lot of planning. The noise becomes stronger and louder. As you pick your head up, your ears can discern the muffled sounds of screaming. There's loud banging against metal, creating a sort of disorienting wobbly noise. You flinch as there's an intense explosion, followed by gunshots. Your entire being vibrates with the force of the blast.

After a few minutes, the thundering clamor vanishes, leaving behind an eerie tranquility. Is everyone gone? Did they leave you here alone? To starve? Eyes darting around the room, you try to find anything you could use to break out, but the room you were currently held captive in is too dim. You're practically stuck in a black hole- consuming everything around it, all light and sound, letting nothing evade its unforgiving clasp.

Heavy steel chains clatter noisily. Your head whips around to look towards the source of the sound. A piercing ring and clash resonates through the room. Soft leather crashes against the concrete floor before stopping right in front of you. Freezing, slender fingers brush against your jaw. It's... familiar. You could recognize that bandaged hand anywhere.

"D-Dazai...?"

Searing hot agony spreads down your throat. You could barely recognize your own voice. They had given you no food, no water, no mercy. A deep voice hums softly.

"Yes.. It's me, I came for you."

Fury and panic stop you in your place. Your heart feels like it's jumped into your throat. He's here. His nimble fingers are undoing your restraints, he's helping- but you can't help wanting him to get as far away from you as possible. He's the reason you're here to begin with. Unfortunately, your body won't let you fight back. Uncontrollable shocks attack your nerves- your skin feels raw and delicate, on the verge of splitting.

"Get a-away from me.. I-I can handle myself."

"Shhhh."

Boney hands reach out for you. He gently reaches out for you, lifting you up with no problem, and pressing your chest against his.

"Relax... you're okay now."

The hardness of his body isn't even uncomfortable. It's... calming. You don't even realize when your eyes slowly flutter shut, shutting out the world, cascading into a tranquil slumber.

—

Only aching pains and drowsiness registers in your mind. The sun is too bright in your eyes, and it's far too cold in this room. Actually... where are you even? You whip your head around, puzzled. There's red silk curtains draping down the floor-to-ceiling windows, and lavish persian rugs. Everything was luxuriously decorated in reds and black- only the highest quality fabrics and furnishing were allowed.

You rip off the fluffy warm sheets. Freezing cold air rushes towards you, attacking your body and etching goosebumps onto your skin. The sensation of spines pricking at the soles of your feet when you step onto black tiles is agonizing. Your legs tremble with effort- carrying you out of the lush bedroom and into the large, just as extravagant living room. Dazai lives like a king.

Dazai is sitting silently on the couch. He's leaning forward with his hands clasped under his chin. As soon as the door opens, his head whirls around.

"You're awake."

He stands, running over to you and helping you over to the sofa.

"Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

The bandaged man tries to sit next to you, invading your personal space. but you scoot further down.

"I'm fine. I don't need your help."

The hopeful look in his eye dims.

"Honey-"

"Don't call me that. You lost the privilege to call me that the moment you lied to me."

An anguished, guttural noise spills out of his lips.

"Look... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lied, but I saved you didnt i? I care about you. I didn't mean for you to get involved like this. I have a lot of enemies and i know i shouldn't have kept things from you-"

"So you admit you were a horrible, deceptive boyfriend?"

His skin is flushed, hands shaking and fumbling- he's clearly frustrated. He scurries closer. A slim thigh presses against yours, his bandaged hands dart out to grasp yours. His touch is frigid, but somehow it makes a heated feeling develop in the pit of your stomach. You can't deny that you're still attracted to him.

"Yes. I know I was, but I love you... We don't even have to date anymore i just- "

He stumbles over his words. A breath catches in his throat.

"I just want you in my life."

Your brain is spinning. You don't know what to do or say.

"I need time to think-"

"That's fine."

Dazai answers immediately- far too eager.

"I'll wait however long I need to. For you."

The delighted expression on his face sends a pleased trickle down your vertebrae. You almost wanted to believe him. Your skin tingles where he's touching you. It's been much too long since you were this close.

Questions you had been pondering for your entire stay pop into your head again. He must know right?

"If you're truly sorry, prove it. The people who took me... Who were they? What happened to them?"

Surprise flashes in his eyes.

"You want to know about them? huh... Well, they were just a small-time gang. Nothing special. And we did with them what we do to all people who oppose us."

Your blood freezes.

"You killed them."

He nods. There's a hardness in his eyes- a deep, dark look. He clearly doesn't regret it.

"I had to... I can't let them get away with something like that, especially not if it's you."

Despite the heavy sensation in your stomach, you're glad. It's horrible, it makes a guilty feeling settle into your bones. You shouldn't be glad someones dead. But what they did was heinous. It's a relief to know they can ever do that again. That Dazai crushed them with all the power of the Port Mafia behind him.

The organization was a hurricane, destroying everything in its path that dared to challenge it. Nothing would be left if they could help it. Everything would bend to their will, whether they want to or not. Everyone in Yokohama knew about it. How that tiny gang figured they could get the boss to fold, was beyond you.

"Are you upset about it? It's not the most savory method... I know you don't like unnecessary violence, but to me it was crucial."

You nod.

"I get it. To be honest, I'm glad."

His lips curl up into a creepy grin. He's clearly not used to smiling but it looks... cute. Unnatural, but cute. You can't help but smile back.

"What about Atsushi? He's not in trouble is he?"

Dazai chuckles.

"No he's not. The only reason he wasnt there is because I called him into my office. Any other time, he would have fought those guys off himself."

"Good. I feel bad for the kid. He has to deal with you."

"Hey! I'm a pretty easy going boss!"

You roll your eyes, waving him off.

"Whatever you say."

His skin is brighter. It doesn't seem to have that dull, gray tone any more. The gauze that used to cover even his fingers, has receded back down to his wrists. Redness paints the fragile skin of his pale knuckles. He stands up, putting his hands on his hips.

"Did you want something to eat? Drink? You must be tired."

"Some coffee is fine. I feel like I'm going to collapse from exhaustion."

He races to the kitchen, like his life depends on it- way too excited for something like making coffee. Never in your career as a barista had you been that excited to serve customers. Within a few minutes, he's back. A cafe latte stares back at you when it's placed on the table. Your favorite, and he knew it. You beam at him.

"Thank you."

"Anything for you."

He's always too greedy for any sort of affection. Too eager to please. Dazai was almost like a child sometimes. A child that had never felt the warm embrace of a lover. Who would forever yearn for more. To pine for someone, anyone to keep him company. It was obvious from the moment he begged you to stay with him just a month ago. It almost made you feel.. pity for him.

A part of you still loved him. He's not easy to forget. Does he even have any friends? Your thoughts are swirling. It's dizzying. You don't know what to do. Maybe it would be best to try again...

Bringing the mug up to your lips, you take a sip. Your tongue burns from the freshly made coffee. It's pleasant.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's smoother, not so sour. It's way better than last time. Did you practice?"

He nods enthusiastically.

"I wanted to win you over... so I was practicing a lot while we were apart."

That makes you stop in your tracks. It's so sweet but so disheartening to hear. Was all he did the past month simply working towards the goal of getting you back?

"Really?"

"Yes. I was serious. I can't live without you."

You sigh, putting the mug back down.

"Dazai... You can't just revolve your entire life around me. It's not healthy."

He sits right next to you. Personal space is a foreign concept in Dazais mind- he does what he wants, and what he wants now is to drape himself over you, to feel your body against his.

"I know. I can't help it. You're everything to me. I've ever met anyone like you."

"You really feel that way?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

He was crazy. He was definitely completely insane. But he looked so angelic. It shouldn't be possible. If anything, he would be a demon. Something evil that can only be found in the deepest pits of hell. But here, where he's being so genuine and honest for the first time, he's heaven sent.

Without noticing, your face starts leaning closer to his. What would his lips feel like on yours? Would it be the same as last time? You can't turn away from him- your eyes are locked on his moistened lips. Dazai was the same. His eyes darted down, longing for you. a gasp catches in your throat. Anticipation fills your whole body. Time seems to stop. His breath brushes over your skin.

He closes the distance. It's as if he's consuming your entire being. Taking you all for himself. It's difficult to not get completely swept up in him. You thrust yourself against him, deepening the kiss. He responds positively, hands tangling in your hair, practically trying to possess you- mind and body.

When you pull away, craving fresh air, Dazai pulls your right back in. He's greedy. Selfish. He can't stand to go on another second without you by his side. After a minute of him trying to kill you by asphyxiation, Dazai finally manages to feel satiated enough to tear himself from you. Your lungs are on fire, begging for air. He isn't much better- if the heavy breathing and flushed skin is anything to go by.

"So... you'll stay...?"

His inflection is higher than usual, hopeful of what's to come.

"Sure… I'll stay."

#bungou stray dogs fanfic #bsd x reader #bsd dazai #beast dazai #fanfic #dazai x reader #kidnapping #bsd dazai x reader #dazai x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd

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educatedsimps · 6 months ago

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hello!!! I love your fics! Can I request a kenma x reader? where he does things he hates but still does it for the reader because the reader loves it? eg: getting wet in the rain etc? thank you if do!!

≪ back to fics masterlist

kozume kenma x reader

a/n: HI ANONNN i'm so glad you like our stuff! and ofc bae :) yes kenma would 100% do stuff he doesn’t like just for his partner because they love it.

cw: not exactly the usual type of fic with a storyline, it's kind of like headcanons? mostly? but written headcanons? i think ????? idk man. anyway it's all fluff and kenma being ridiculously in love with you :)

wc: 1.7k

fic below!

the following is based on true events: lyssa: *sends yves a screenshot of the request* look there's another kenma req! yves: he's a literal cat lyssa: yeah! wait but that's not the point of the- yves: hold on i have a tweet for this lyssa: LMAO ofc u do

okay, on to the real stuff!

"Kenmaaaaa, let's go (insert activity of choice)!"

"...do we have to?"

"Yes! It'll be fun, I promise!"

"...are you sure?"

"Yes, come on!"

"...you really wanna?"

"Yes! And I promise to spend a whole day gaming with you. We can play literally any game you want. Now, can we go? Pleaseeee?"

Sigh. "Alright."

This was the usual conversation between the two of you whenever you wanted to do something Kenma didn't necessarily enjoy. In other words, you’d bribe him with a full day of gaming together.

You knew he'd much rather stay in any day of the week instead of go out and engage in such uncomfortable, sweaty and outdoor (derogatory) activities. Anyone who even remotely knew him would know that. However, you genuinely thought that doing more physical activities together would be good for the both of you.

Hence your increasingly frequent pleas for him to join you in doing said activities.

The first time you asked him out on such a date, it was to go swimming together. He looked at you with a blank expression, but you could read his thoughts exactly. "Do you even like me? Do you even know me?" was what he seemed to be saying. With his eyes, at least.

To be honest, most of his reasons for not wanting to go swimming were pretty valid. Why would he wanna get soaked just to take another shower after that? Why would he go swimming when there are gonna be people around to witness him flap around in the water? And his hair is already bleached, so why would he want to ruin it further by going into a pool practically loaded with chlorine? Out of everything, chlorine had to be the bacteria killer? Why couldn't it have been something nicer, like chocolate or something?!

Fair enough, you thought. But by the time the two of you were out of the pool that day (you don't even remember if you just played in the water or if you actually swam laps together), the sun was literally shining down on him, yet his smile seemed brighter than the sun itself. You weren't sure exactly what about swimming had made him smile like that the first time, but since then, every time you suggested going swimming together, you'd remind him how much fun he had the last time and he'd be less opposed to the idea.

Even though he'd probably never admit it to you, he actually enjoyed going swimming with you that first time because of you. The way you laughed and the way you seemed so comfortable in the water honestly captivated him. Then he started to notice how the sun reflected off the water and onto your skin, casting a golden glow around you.

So damn pretty, he remembered thinking to himself.

Soon, you started going swimming at night - to not "die of UV rays", in his words - and the way the moonlight reflected off your skin was simply ethereal. He couldn't have used any other word to describe you in that state. You reminded him of a siren, and if real sirens were even half as beautiful as you, he’d understand why those pirates and sailors were so easily lured out to sea.

Even if you couldn't swim swim, you still looked so content in the water that slowly, he couldn't say no to going swimming with you anymore.

The next kind of activity you asked him to do together was to go to the beach. And of course, you were met with the usual resistance at first. The way his face lightened when you said "swimming" then pinched together when you said "at the beach" told you exactly what he was thinking.

Ew. Sand. Everywhere.

Honestly? Valid. Sand gets everywhere - and I mean everywhere. The sand gets scorching hot in the daytime so why would anyone wanna go there? To get sand up your ass? To burn your feet off?? Like, can't you just do that over the kitchen stove or something?

That was until you were spending the day together at the beach, building sandcastles and sunbathing and just hanging out by the water. You could never forget how relaxed he looked by the end of it.

Sure, there were tons of other people at the beach that day, but he completely forgot about that when he was with you. You just did that somehow - make him feel like it was just the two of you even in a crowded room.

"It's not that bad, right, Kenma?"

"Eh..."

It's "not that bad" only because of you but I'm not admitting that, is what he was thinking.

This process continued with several more activities - cycling, hiking, even going to the gym.

When you asked him to go cycling together, his face told you, "What makes you think I'd enjoy cycling when there isn't even water to help me cool off this time? And what if I lose balance and fall?"

When you asked him to go hiking together, his expression screamed, "There aren't even gonna be wheels this time, are you kidding me? My legs are gonna give out. You're gonna have to haul me back home by yourself and it's not gonna be my problem."

And when you asked to go to the gym together, he muttered, "Kuroo and Yamamoto are rubbing off on you."

Despite these complaints, Kenma always came home looking more refreshed than ever. Even though he still didn’t love those sports, he didn’t hate them either, thanks to you. But that wasn't the point.

To him, the point was just seeing you do what made you happy. And as much as he hated getting all sweaty and sore and tired, he absolutely loved watching you go about the activities you had planned. Sure, you were just as sweaty and sore and tired as he was, but he didn't care. He honestly just cared that you were happy, and he knew then that he would do anything just to make you smile like that for the rest of your lives.

As for non-physical activities, if you love doing things like going to the museum, painting, gardening, yoga or meditation, board games, photography, he'd definitely be less resistant even though he doesn't particularly love those activities, and of course he'd just enjoy spending that time with you. Honestly, he's just glad you didn't pick something physically draining this time.

One time, you dragged him away from his video game and out of his bedroom to go play in the rain together. When you told him you wanted to go out into the rain, he had half a mind to drag you back into the house and lock you in the bedroom with him. But he was also kinda curious as to what you could possibly find so exciting in the middle of a rainstorm, so he followed you outside with just his hoodie, sweatpants and house slippers.

As raindrops pelted against his skin and clothes, he looked up to see you standing in front of him with your arms held out to the side and your head tilted slightly upward.

It was cool and rainy night, and Kenma would typically be in the comfort of his bed or gaming chair, safely sheltered from the rain. Why the hell would you wanna go out in the rain when you have a perfectly good house to stay in? He thought earlier.

Now, he finally had an answer to that. Two, in fact.

One, it was beautiful. He's obviously seen rain before, but only from his window. He had never been in the rain like this before. He's been caught in the rain on the way home from school or practice, sure, but never deliberately in the rain.

Looking up, the night sky was splattered with stars, barely visible behind metallic grey storm clouds. Silvery droplets raced towards the ground and glistening specks of water started to collect on his lashes. Blinking them away, he could see you in front of him.

The second answer to his earlier question was simple. You.

Dressed in one of his old volleyball jerseys, home shorts and slippers, you still looked so goddamn beautiful to him. You were laughing wholeheartedly even as raindrops assaulted your skin from above. You were somehow glowing even with just the dim streetlights nearby. Turning towards him, you grabbed his hands and pulled him towards you, further out onto the empty street.

"Come on, babe, have some fun!" You yelled, making sure he could hear you through the downpour. He could feel the rainwater slowly soaking through the material of his hoodie and onto his skin. He watched as you started kicking your feet and jumping into puddles of water on the road, and soon, the two of you were in the middle of an all-out puddle war.

Sooner or later you'd both be out of breath, and you'd end up with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. As the two of you swayed slowly back and forth, everything seemed to be in slow motion. The falling of rain around you, the steady beating of your heart, your slow breaths and the quiet rumble of thunder nearby added to the overall ambience.

Thinking back, he wasn't sure if this experience was beautiful because of the rain or because of you. Probably the latter, he thought. Furthermore, if he had to describe this experience in one word, he'd say it was magical. Simply and absolutely magical, and all thanks to you.

That day, he also decided that going out into the rain with you was worth an extra shower, and eventually this became a habit for the two of you whenever it rained heavily at night. If you moved to an apartment, you'd stand on the balcony together and stay there while it rained. Sometimes you'd dance, sometimes you'd play around with the puddles of rainwater on the ground, and sometimes you'd just be in each other's arms talking about anything and everything.

Main point is, he’s in love with you and he would do anything for you - even if it means getting sweaty and tired. Though I don’t think he’d complain that much if you asked to play volleyball HAHAHA

#educated.simps #haikyuu x reader #lyssa.writes #simps.write #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyu #hq fluff #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma x reader fluff

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avonne-writes · 2 months ago

Text

Here (kitty Gale drabble)

The slow, dragged-out death that seeps through everything in the fall will always, inevitably, carry a reminder of the stalag. So far, taking care of his horses and the property provided Gale enough distraction not to let the bad memories affect him. It has been two years. He has learnt how to live with that shadow. Whenever he feels it crawling up his throat like bile, he shifts into his cat form and runs and runs and runs until all his bones remember that they're free.

John, however, doesn’t have an outlet like that. His heart has always been too open, too fragile for how he carries it on his sleeve, and captivity damaged his spirit more than it could ever touch Gale's. It hurts to look at him on gloomy mornings like this and see how dull the light in his eyes is. To look at him only to be met with a dark stare instead of the half-moons of his flirty smile, to see him flit around the house like he cannot stand staying still for more than a second. Gale knows, like he knows his own heartbeat, that John is in physical pain. But God damn it, he doesn’t know how to help him.

"What do you want for lunch?" He calls out from the kitchen, trying to keep his voice cheerful. When no answer comes, he grips the back of one of their chairs and takes a deep breath. "John? You haven't had any breakfast, do you want some pancakes?"

The silence is a heavy coat of guilt on Gale’s shoulders. He’s failing, just like he failed in the stalag. He can’t pull John away from the dark abyss in his mind, he’s not enough, not good enough.

When he hears the sound of footsteps, Gale snaps his head up, only to see John head for the front door.

"Make whatever you feel like, Buck." John says, then sighs. "Everything tastes like ash anyway."

The door creaks open and closed as he steps out, leaving Gale alone in the empty house.

It takes a few minutes for Gale to find the strength to move. Helplessness always makes him withdraw into himself, where he's in full control and nothing could ever touch him. In moments like this, he finds it difficult to talk, as nothing he'd say would make any change in the matter. Words are futile. He knows this. And yet... He knows that silence doesn’t help John either. They've tried it for months on end, haven't they?

Stealing himself for the discomfort of a potential fight, Gale puts on his boots and follows the steps leading away from the house through the muddy ground outside. It’s sprinkling rain, and the leaves scattered around by the wind smell like decay. Gale's nose twitches and the hair on his neck stands up at the wet discomfort of it, but he pushes on until he reaches John where he's standing in the middle of the field behind their home.

"You wanna get struck by lightning?" Gale ask, aiming for lighthearted teasing but he thinks it doesn't quite hit the mark.

Bucky grunts, glaring at the stormclouds ahead. "Maybe I do." He scoffs. "You'd be better off."

Anger flares up in Gale's chest, a stinging flame. "Why d'you have to go and say stuff like that? Why would I be better off, hm?"

Bucky looks chastised, but he doesn’t back down. "You wouldn’t have to stand out here and get soaked, for one. I know you hate that."

"Then don't make me. Let's go back inside."

From the way Bucky's eyebrows furrow and his lips purse, it's clear that he's going to protest. But before either of them could say anything, a loud, plaintive meow interrupts the conversation. They both look over their shoulder to see one of their orange barn cats jogging up to them through the field. She has always driven Gale up the walls since the way John brought her home emaciated and shivering, but they couldn’t just leave her to her fate, so they nursed her back to health, and she stuck around. She has been annoying Gale ever since. Now, as she trots right up to John and winds herself around his legs, Gale can’t help but glare daggers at her.

When John picks her up in his arms, he can feel his cheeks puff up and he can barely hold back a hiss. It would be undignified to act like that in his human form though, so Gale keeps himself in check and crosses his arms. John coos at the cat in his hands, smiling faintly. As Gale stares at the sight, a sudden idea overpowers his jealousy and lights a spark of hope.

"Come on, Bucky. Inside." He says, reaching out to squeeze John's elbow.

When he glances at Gale, John's smile widens. "Really? Jealous about old Martha here?" He teases, scratching the cat's ear as it purrs. When Gale scoffs and starts walking back with brisk steps, he hears John's long stride follow. "You know that Princess is my best girl."

"Just put the damn cat down." Gale grumbles as they reach the house.

It annoys him a little when John refers to his cat form in the third person, because it's still him even if John insists on nicknaming him Princess. But it would be pointless to argue about that today. Gale goes back inside and doesn’t look behind him to see John say goodbye to Martha and follow. He hears him well enough, and it's a relief when the front door closes and the sounds of the coming storm are shut out of the cozy warmth of their home.

Gale waits next to the coat rack until John takes his shoes off, then opens his arms when John steps close enough to embrace. They're getting somewhere now, he can tell, because John hugs him back and clings to Gale's clothes as if he never wants to let go and face the world again. It reminds Gale of the first hug they shared when they reunited in the camp, then the one at Thorpe Abbotts, and he feels like he’ll bleed out if he continues to hold on. He pulls away gently and nudges John towards the bedroom.

"Go change into something dry."

John nods. For a moment, they stay there watching a mirror of their own pain in each other's eyes, then John presses a kiss to Gale's forehead.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Gale gives him a nod to say that it's okay. He knows what he's going to do now. As John disappears down the hallway, he goes into the living room, grabs what he needs and sits down on the couch to wait.

The clock on the mantel above their fireplace ticks the minutes down in quiet monotone.

When John comes back to the room at last, he barks a surprised laugh upon spotting Gale's fluffy cone shape. "Is this about Martha?"

This time, Gale does give into the urge to hiss, baring the sharp little fangs of his cat form as John throws himself down on the cushions next to him. You're an idiot, Gale whines and pushes the comb he grabbed earlier closer to John with his right paw. The signature cheeky grin appears on John's face.

"Aw, baby, do you want me to comb you?"

It's for your benefit, you loony, Gale thinks, but he lets John pull him onto his lap and doesn’t even knead him that hard when John starts running the comb through Gale's long fur. John, of course, winces and groans theatrically as Gale's claws prick at his thigh, but he lets him make biscuits as long as he wants. They settle into a rhythm quickly. It’s the most comfortable John has been sitting still the whole day. He focuses on Gale’s silky fur, and Gale purrs for him. For both of them, if he were being honest.

He doesn’t know how long he does it, but he feels John relax into, and he feels his own body grow tired and boneless in return. He listens to John's breathing and the steady drumming of the rain. It matches the sounds of peace inside.

Although Gale's doing this for John, it’s easy to let the gentle brushing lull him into a sleepy, hazy state, where he feels completely safe and nothing exists but John's warmth, the palm cradling Gale's head and the motion of the comb. He lets himself slump sideways against John's stomach and blinks up at him slowly, thinking I love you every time his eyes slip closed. He rubs his cheeks and whiskers against John's hand until John drops the comb all of a sudden.

He's crying.

Even if he hides it behind his hand, Gale can tell. It’s not a surprise - Gale has been waiting for some kind of relief since he woke up to John pacing around and talking to himself again. The burst of all that pressure in John is welcome, but it hurts nevertheless. There's no pain like seeing the one you love hurting. Gale didn’t know this, couldn’t even fathom it, until he fell in love with his John.

Putting his front paws on John's chest, he stands up tall enough to tuck his head under John's arm and press his face to John's jaw. Wetness soaks into his fur. When John wraps his free arm around him, he licks a salty tear off John's skin. The scrape of his tongue tickles John into a short, hitching laugh.

"Gale." John whispers.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. Gale jumps off John's lap and shifts back, his arms moving to wrap around John's frame as soon as he can move them like a human again, and John slumps into his embrace like a puppet cut from his strings.

"Shh." Gale strokes his back soothingly. "I'm here."

The pained tension in John's body begins to dissipate.

#mota #buck x bucky #gale cleven #john egan #clegan #my writing #kitty gale

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 1 year ago

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Sexiest Podcast Character — Eye Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

Jonathan Sims/The Archivist (The Magnus Archives):

I just think it'd be funny if an asexual character won

(im ripping this from the wiki btw) John has prematurely greying hair and looks older than he is. He often looks very tired and is physically unfit, as other characters refer to him as scrawny and he tires easily from physical tasks that others perform with little exertion. he also has lots of scars.

(propaganda, spoilers for The Magnus Archives) He's a wet cat and at one point dated Georgie Barker and does date Martin Blackwood. there is also a whole tag/movement for "hot Jon rights". he may not be like, 10/10 on the attractive scale but his far off gaze has captivated me

Nikignik (Hello From The Hallowoods)

They’re an eldritch being who narrates the entirety of the show. They have a lot of cosmic power, such as the ability to affect the story as it plays about, but typically try to stay out it because they’re a storyteller and aren’t supposed to interfere.

100 eyes on the dark. They see all. They are a sad boi (gender neutral). They are perfect.

a wet cat of an eldritch being who is visiting you in your nightmares :)

#Eye Bracket Round 3 #Jonathan Sims #The Archivist #Nikignik #Nikignik HFTH #The Magnus Archives #Hello From the Hallowoods

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mothmanavenue · 9 months ago

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his pathetic aura and wet cat eyes have captivated me

#nimona #nimona movie #nimona 2023 #nimona fanart #nimona ballister #ballister fanart #ballister blackheart #ballister boldheart #ballister boldheart fanart #art #digital art #drawing #moth draws

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buckymorelikefuckme · 2 years ago

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golden hour

steve rogers x reader

words: 1.1k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** unprotected sex (don't do that), consensual somno, sleepy sex, lapslock. if i missed anything pls let me know.

a/n: it's almost three in the morning but i can't sleep so have this. its... so soft. ugh. anyway, any and all mistakes are mine! feedback is encouraged & appreciated <3

steve comes home during the golden light of sunrise to see your naked form delicately splayed out atop the mattress.

you're lying on your side, arms stretched out in front of you, face slack in your deep slumber. he's struck, for what has to be the millionth time, by the beauty of your body. the way your lashes fan out on top of your cheeks, the sweet dip of your waist as it flares into your hips, the full, plush curve of your ass, the gentle slope of your shoulders; even your bellybutton is captivating. your skin seems to glow against the stark white sheets tangled around your thighs.

the duvet has been kicked off the bed, as you often do in sleep, and steve knows it's because the warmth from the rising sun is splashed along your back. he lets himself admire you for a moment longer before he strips his clothing off until he's as bare as you.

carefully, not wanting to wake you, he slips into the bed with you, blocking the sun beams with his own body as he cozies up behind you. he presses soft, light kisses to your shoulder. you must have showered just before you went to sleep, the scent of your vanilla cashmere body wash tickling his nose. you're warm from sleep and steve seeks it out like a cat, allowing his hands to finally sweep down your side. your fingers twitch, but you remain still otherwise.

perhaps it makes him a terrible person, perhaps not, yet seeing you lost in sleep, lips pouty and breaths even, never fails to make pure want swirl in his gut, has his cock stirring in interest. it's easy to let his fingers make their way to your center, to slip them down to your opening and tease until he can feel your slick begin to coat the tips of them. your thighs squeeze around his hand, just a little, just enough to let him know your body is responding beautifully to his touch.

steve watches your face as he sinks two fingers inside you, smiling at the way your brows furrow. he starts to thrusts his fingers, hearing your breath hitch, seeing your hands clench and unclench around the sheets. he adds a third finger and now your eyelids flutter, quiet noises rising from your throat. you're not awake just yet, but he knows it won't be much longer.

a few moments pass and then he reluctantly extracts his hand, kissing your neck in silent apology when you softly whine from the loss. he's not done, though, not even close.

gently, he rolls you onto your back, brushing your hair out of your face as he makes room for himself between your thighs, unable to keep himself from rutting against you when his cock slides through your wetness. you gasp, somehow still lost in your subconscious, and steve decides he’ll just have to wake you up with his cock.

he lines himself up and eases home, groaning deeply as he bottoms out. you're whimpering, beginning to wiggle as the first signs of awareness hit you. steve pulls out, slow, but thrusts back in firmly, setting a steady pace right away.

your eyes finally crack open, though heavy with drowsiness.

“baby?” you ask through a raspy voice.

“hi, sweetheart,” steve grunts, leaning down to kiss his way from your breasts to your parted lips. “good morning.”

you halfheartedly return the sentiment, words carrying into a moan as steve quickens his pace now that you're awake.

neither of you say much of anything after that, just echoes of moans, calls of each other’s names, praises of how good you both feel. you cling to him, thighs clamping around his waist and your nails digging into his back. the sharp sting of it has his hips slamming into you, dragging out a high keen from your throat.

“i know, sweetheart, i know,” steve says, panting, dropping to his elbows on either side of your head, mesmerized by how lost in pleasure you are.

your back is arched, your pebbled nipples brushing steve’s chest as you completely surrender to him. it stuns him every time, how easily you give yourself over, put all of your trust into him that he’ll take care of you. he'd never do anything to compromise that. the feeling is much too heady to give up.

“please,” you beg on a whine, hips tilting up to meet his thrusts. “baby, please, i need you.”

he softly shushes you, brushing his nose with yours, drinking down your cries like the finest wine. “i'm right here, darlin’. i've got you, i've got you…”

blindly, you search for his lips, moaning when he closes the gap and kisses you, flicks his tongue along the roof of your mouth.

his thrusts are brutal now, unforgiving. you're chanting, his name and desperate pleas, and he knows that you're close. his own release is not far off, so he shifts his weight to one arm, sliding his free hand down your torso until his fingers graze where his cock is disappearing inside your wet heat. you cry out sharply when he gathers your slick and starts rubbing circles into your swollen clit. he curses at the way it has your walls squeezing his cock.

“c’mon, sweetheart. you've been so good,” he coaxes, “cum for me.”

a few more swipes from his fingers and you're tensing, mouth falling open, quiet at first, but like a dam breaking, you're crying out in satisfaction, gasping for breath as white hot pleasure wracks through your body. your hips jerk, sensitivity starting to take over, but steve knows you like a little overstimulation.

he rises onto his knees, spreading your thighs with his large hands so he has an unrestricted view of his cock in you. it doesn't take but a handful of thrusts and you whining his name for the coil of heat in his gut to snap. his hips still, cock buried to the hilt as he grunts and moans, spilling inside you. he stays there as he catches his breath, loving the way his skin tingles in the afterglow.

“god, i love you,” he says on an exhale.

you giggle sleepily. “i love you, too, baby.”

he sighs, running his hands up your stomach and settling them on your ribs. “i need to clean you up.”

“it can wait,” you assure him. “i know you're tired, and i definitely need a nap after that.”

steve huffs a laugh, not bothering to point out that you just woke up. he acquiesces with a kiss, carefully easing out of you and pulling you close, wrapping you within his embrace. he falls asleep to the feeling of your fingers gliding through the hair on his chest and the feather-light touch of your lips to his clavicle, knowing when he wakes up that you'll still be there and welcome him with more kisses and smiles.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you

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mikansei · 5 months ago

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assorted 🦚 HCs i'm probably never going to do anything with and am thus releasing into the wild:

🩵 aventurine's hair is only wavy when it's humid - but coming from a desert planet, basically any humidity above 0% counts as such, so in effect it's now permanently wavy. (on sigonia it only showed when it rained, which was such an infrequent blessing that it was seen as good luck - which, at this point, is just another facet of that grand cosmic joke at his expense. permanently lucky, right?)

🩵 he doesn't hide his brand scar because it makes people visibly uncomfortable to see it, and he's never been a non-confrontational person. sure, he'll twist himself into all kinds of more palatable shapes in order to play a role or fulfill expectations - but there are some things he doesn't want people to be able to ignore. (if you want to look at me, you have to look at what the world did to me. you don't get to look away.)

🩵 he doesn't make it common knowledge that he never learned to swim; he'll happily sip mai tais under the shade of a beach umbrella, but no one's ever seen him get in the water. (ratio swims like a fish, but the "wet shirtless ratio" factor overrides any jealousy he might feel over this.)

🩵 he has mixed feelings about rain until he has to be In The Rain, at which point he becomes the world's saddest wettest cat about it. and yes, some of it's about evoking bad memories - but the sensation of cold wet clothes clinging to him is also just physically uncomfortable.

also this doesn't really fit here but i don't want to make a separate post lmao, the ingame descriptions of the avgins and the halovians are making me slightly insane

halovians:

A revered race esteemed for their enchanting voices and captivating appearance, widely adored throughout the universe. They seem born into the love and admiration of other species and peoples. Halovians are blessed with shrewdness and few can peer past their mysterious and elegant smiles.

avgins:

The Avgins are blessed with attractive facial features, beautiful eyes, and an innate wealth of emotional intelligence, all of which effortlessly endear themselves to any strangers. However, these inborn talents are the exact reason they draw jealousy and ire from others.

the descriptions are so incredibly similar and yet their reception is polar opposite!! i feel a very normal amount of emotion about this

#not even getting into how gaiathra triclops is “depicted as a left palm with 3 eyes” which is just a hamsa symbol with 2 extra eyes #or how the irl kakava festival is about baba (father) fingo and bb kakavasha called the mother goddess “mama fenge”#does this mean he would've called his dad “baba?” would he refer to himself as the cat-cakes' “baba?”#i am once again unwell about a fictional blond man 😔 it will happen again #hsr #hsr meta #aventurine #ratiorine #(even tho ratio himself is sir not appearing in this post)#also there needs to be a teal heart emoji. extremely rude that there isn't

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salty-autistic-writer · 5 months ago

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Snippet in which Tommy wakes up with his head on Evan's chest.

Warm.

Eyes closed, Tommy still vacillates between sleep and awareness but he does notice that he’s warm. He’s always hated being cold so waking up like this is nice. The sensation doesn’t stem from the sunbeams falling through the windows and brightening up the room though. No, he’s basking in the warmth of another body. His boyfriend’s body.

His boyfriend. Who is in bed with him, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair in a gentle steady rhythm. It feels so good, it gives Tommy tingles and a part of him wants to lean into the caress like an oversized touch-starved cat.

For a hazy confused moment, he doesn’t even want to open his eyes at all. What if this is just the remnant of a dream? Wishful thinking? Is his imagination playing tricks on his mind?

But with sleep fading, Tommy starts to feel more. Vague blurry sensations form into something concrete. Something real.

Evan’s warmth and familiar scent are all around him. Tommy can hear the vibrating echo of his steady heartbeat and realizes he has his head on Evan’s chest. That’s definitely a new way of waking up. He opens his eyes and blinks into the bright light of the late morning sun. Right. It’s a free weekend. No alarm clock. No work. No calls. Just them.

Evan is laying on his back, head propped up against a pillow, staring at something on his phone while he continues to play with Tommy’s hair. His own curls are tousled and his mouth is slightly open, his eyes having that laser-focused expression that they always get when Evan discovers something captivating.

“What are you looking at?” Tommy mutters and clears his throat, voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

“Hey, morning to you,” Evan says, smiling down at him. “I was trying to find the best hill for what we planned for tomorrow.”

Right. The hike. A hike with a picnic. Tommy's heart jumps through another enthusiastic loop.

“I want a nice hill,” Evan explains seriously. “With a nice view. And I still have to make a list of what we have to bring. Sunscreen, mosquito spray, bandaids and bandages just in case, hiking socks … Wait. Do you even have proper hiking socks? They prevent your feet from getting sweaty and developing blisters.”

“Yeah, I do have proper hiking socks,” Tommy says, mildly amused. He loves it when Evan goes into full organizing mode.

Tommy raises his head a little, blinking at the dark wet spot he left on Evan’s shirt. “I drooled on your chest,” he states, a bit embarrassed.

Evan chuckles. “Yeah, you woke up like an hour ago, muttered something about too cold, then snuggled up against me, pressed your cold toes into my legs and put your head on my chest. After that, you went back to sleep and started to snore. It was cute.”

Tommy’s breath hitches.

Cute.

Huh.

Evan just called him cute. No one called him cute before. Tommy doesn’t know what to say. Or how to breathe. He’s drowning in the fuzzy sensation of being in love. God. He really got it bad. This man stumbled into his life and into his helicopter out of nowhere and managed to steal Tommy’s whole damn damaged heart in the process.

“Babe. Are you okay?” Evan asks, still smiling, but his brows creasing into a subtle frown.

Tommy’s breath starts to run away from him.

Babe. Cute. Are you okay. Waking up on Evan’s chest. Evan’s fingers playing with his hair. Evan watching him sleep.

It’s so much. It’s too much. It’s too good. Good things don’t last. People leave. They leave and all that stays is the cold. Tommy can’t breathe. It’s almost as if the air got sucked out of the room.

He starts to feel lightheaded and lost. A boat on the ocean, thrown around by invisible forces. But then, Evan is there, wrapping his arms around Tommy and whispering, “Breathe. You got to breathe, babe.”

Tommy tries. He inhales shakily, listens to Evan’s breaths and tries to match them. It works. He can breathe again and the dizziness fades. But now he’s embarrassed … Why can’t he spend a morning in bed with his boyfriend without having some kind of panic attack about stupid abandonment issues?

Evan puts his hand on Tommy’s chest, feeling for his heart. “You want to tell me what this was about?”

Tommy sighs. “I was just a little overwhelmed. This is … It’s nice. I like it. It makes me happy. But my stupid mind starts to overthink and I end up being scared I will lose this. You.”

Because you could disappear in so many different ways … A fight. A breakup. An accident. A call gone bad. An illness. Something we can't fight. Something we can’t defeat.

“I have those overthink-moments too,” Evan says quietly. “We’ve been through a lot of loss. Guess our minds are so used to losing people and things, that they hesitate to trust this. I can’t promise you that nothing will ever happen to any of us. But I promise you I will always try my best to come back here. Come back to you. And since we are not able to know the future, maybe we can focus on the moment. Because this morning is a moment I really love.”

“I love it too,” Tommy says, turning to face Evan, and meeting his beautiful eyes. He can see himself inside them. Maybe he can allow himself to be like Evan sees him. He definitely can ask for something he wants. “Can we stay in bed a little longer?”

“Oh, don't worry, I’m not getting up any time soon,” Evan says with a chuckle. “I sent you like 30 Instagram Reels while you were snoring and drooling on my chest. You want to watch them now?”

Tommy smiles. “Yeah, sure.”

He puts his head back on Evan’s chest and they watch the Reels, laughing together. Later, they shower together, have breakfast together, and go to buy a picnic blanket together. When they look around in the shop, Evan takes Tommy's hand and it's such a subtle yet heart-rate-elevating thing. An anchor. It soothes Tommy's stormy mind and makes it trust the happiness a little more. Piece by piece. Step by step.

They do find and buy their own picnic blanket. It makes them ridiculously happy.

A moment saved in their memories.

#bucktommy #tevan #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy fanfic #tevan fanfic

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theodorecanaryhood · 9 months ago

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Summer Days

Jason Todd x Male Reader

Warning: romance and some language

New years was always the vibe for romance, most people liked the idea of having someone with them for the big event of midnight.

Cold and wet mostly due to it being Gotham City, however, it was worth it as the two of you strolled through the square. Hand in hand and no care in the world.

Jason was in his world when with you, he didn’t care about anything but you.

‘Gonna kiss in the square at midnight dollface?’ Jason smiled as you nodded.

Not a big fan of PDA, Jason made an exception for when the two of you were celebrating something. New year was of course the biggest one.

Midnight chimed quickly as Jason dipped you and gave you a big kiss, a small smile on his face. His lips were heaven, and yours were Jason’s favourite place to escape.

‘I love you so much’ Jason said after breaking the kiss, you smiled and held onto Jason’s face.

‘I love you too’

Before you could even register anything, time had gone so fast that all of a sudden it’s hot outside. You were stuck wearing minimal clothing, heat on your skin with small beads of sweat every so often.

You and Jason had planned to get a weekend getaway, a weekend of the two of you. No patrols, no distractions…nothing.

The long drive in Jason’s vintage car, a blessing given by Bruce for his 21st birthday. The day he met you, being friends with Tim.

A few years younger, Jason seemed smitten and captivated by you. He wanted to try and get you alone.

A family getaway was in need as Batman was taking a break, Bruce urged Tim to bring you along, his friend.

You spent some time with Dick to which Jason didn’t like much, you were friendly towards the eldest son. Jason got jealous but not too much, he held his own and played patiently.

Jason stole his moment to catch his crushes attention, the two of you had a walk by the water alone one morning, Jason taking the chance to get to know you better, steal your heart.

Successful of course, as the two of you stood here together. Jason giving you a sweet kiss as the two of you got into his car.

A drive through the city and then on the highway, skies turning pink from the sun going dim in the sky.

Jason held your hand in his, giving it a sweet kiss as he hit the speeds of the highway roads, loving the touch of his boyfriend’s skin. Jason felt like he was in heaven…again.

The Sun captured the scene complimentary, sun shining off the surfaces, bouncing off the sand. Jason’s skin glowed in the light. Jason’s eyes glowed with the rays, yours being captured by his.

Jason stood on the edge of the path as you snapped a shot of him, being so in love with his form. Every inch of it.

‘Call him Ed Sheeran, he in love with my body’ Jason rapped jokingly as you laughed, giving you a sweet kiss.

‘Ok Doja Cat’ you smiled, taking your shoes and socks off as you tossed them in the car, along with Jason’s.

The two of you took a slow walk along the sandy beach, hand in hand. Jason hummed quietly as he felt the warmth of the air.

Your casual summer wear helping ease the heat from your bodies.

Jason loved wearing shorts now as you helped him embrace his body more, loving him regardless if he had scars or not.

Jason lifted you on his back as he gave you a piggy back along the sand, you smiling as the two of you started singing at the top of your lungs.

‘Rain on me, Rain on me’ you both sang, out of key of course but you didn’t care.

The two of you were like two teenagers in love in a short escape from your parents, it was bliss. Being young at heart and the both of you being able to embrace the craziness you had.

‘Wrestle’ Jason called out as he flipped you off his back, onto the sand.

Laying on top of you as he fluttered your face with sweet kisses. You laughed as Jason teased you with his lips.

‘Shit you’re so cute’ you blushed as Jason smiled ear to ear, kissing you deep in the lips.

‘I love fucking you, I mean I fucking love you’ Jason stuttered purposely to make you laugh again.

A laugh that Jason could listen to all the time, a laugh and a smile that made Jason forget all the bad times he had before.

A perfect end to a weekend, Jason took you both to the nearby carnival.

You waited in a surprisingly short line to get into the ferris wheel. Jason holding you close the whole time.

Getting to the top and feeling the summer night air, it was a release as the days were hot and humid. Jason was still a little sweaty but he didn’t care so much.

The two of you kept greeting each others lips until it was time to go to sleep. Once you were allowed to after Jason wanted your bodies to collide in bed.

The drive home was always a shorter journey, which is always the way. For some reason.

Jason opted to be the passenger princess as you drove the two of you home, Jason falling asleep a little in the passenger seat, with a slight snore.

Once you were home, it was a nice time to relax and enjoy each other’s company, as the two of you settled on the couch.

#red hood #gotham #red hood fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader

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cosmerelists · 1 year ago

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Top 10 Reasons that Kaladin is a Cat

I already argued that all Stormlight characters are cats. But while writing that list, I kept coming up with reasons why Kaladin specifically is a cat. One might argue that he is most feline of all Stormlight characters.

Which is exactly what I am about to do. So here’s why Kaladin is DEFINITELY a cat.

1. He likes to be high.

As I pointed out in my original list, Kaladin LOVES heights--just like cats do. He’s happiest when he can be taller than everyone else, high up in the sky.

2. He’s good at climbing.

Cats are very good climbers, and so is Kaladin! There are two scenes in which Kaladin must scale an impossibly vertical wall, which he does using Stormlight. Cats use their claws, but it’s basically the same.

3. He hates to be wet.

Kaladin is NOT fan of the rain. He may be pro-storm, but he hates the Weeping, during which a continuous drizzle makes everything wet and gray and sad. Cats also do not like being wet. As you know if you’ve ever had to wash one.

4. He hates to be locked up.

Cats do not like closed doors. If you dare to cut off their divine right of passing through any doorway, they will scream their displeasure. Kaladin is also not a fan of closed doors--like when he was locked up in prison for a while and found himself very unhappy in captivity.

5. He once tore a piece of paper to shreds just to be an asshole.

Have you ever had a cat look at you directly in the eye as it knocks something beloved off of a shelf or scratches your couch or violently attacks the Steris pin you just got from your Cosmere box (that last one might just be me)? Well, this reminds me of when Kaladin was in the slave wagon, and the slave trader guy asked him to help with directions and handed him a map, and Kaladin just tore it to shreds. Very justifiable and cat-like behavior, if you ask me.

6. He is not impressed by you.

Cats are not impressed by kings, as the saying goes. And neither is Kaladin. In Book 2 when he found himself working for the Kholins, he spent his time being DEEPLY unimpressed, especially by Adolin. It was like Adolin had a cat-bodyguard.

7. He has self-healing abilities.

Cats use their purring to self-heal: apparently it helps them. Kaladin uses Stormlight, which is less cute. If only he purred instead.

8. He pretends not to be hurt.

It is very difficult to tell if a cat is injured--they’re good at pretending that they’re not. And even before he could just wave a hand to heal himself, Kaladin also had trouble admitting when he was too hurt to move around. I’m thinking especially about the end of Book 2 when he hobbles around while everyone else is marching to the center of the Shattered Plains, all the while thinking to himself that he probably shouldn’t be moving around. But he does anyway.

9. He is very graceful and tends to land on his feet

In fact, Kaladin likes to land in a straight-up hero pose.

10. He likes to pretend he’s solitary, but he needs friends.

Cats are supposedly solitary creatures, but if you’ve ever had a cat, you know they tend to want to be around you. Maybe they’re just chilling in the windowsill across the room, but they’re still hanging out. Cats in the wild sleep in a big pile. They’re actually more social than their reputation claims. And in a similar way, Kaladin tries to give off big solitary energy, but really, he does better when he’s around his friends, even if he’s just sulking at the table while Adolin and Shallan talk.

#cosmerelists #cosmere #Kaladin #stormlight archive

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nethhiri · 9 days ago

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Chapter 60: 2 Eyes, 2 Furious

Sorry this took so long, everyone! I've been incredibly busy at work and have a lot of presentations coming up, so it may be slow for a while. Thank you so much for sticking around and being patient <3

Warnings: Sexual violence, torture, gore, body horror

The second you got your full vision back, you knew exactly what you wanted to do. It was exactly what you promised to do. Warthin was waiting for you with bated breath in the brig and you didn't want to keep him waiting much longer. You wouldn't want him to forget how much he should fear you. Kid was reluctant to release you, finally fully absolved of his asshole crimes. You could tell he really wanted you all to himself after being shut out of your company for a while. You had missed him, too, as much as he angered you. While you enjoyed being alone in the dungeon, free to do whatever fucked up thing your heart desired without judgement, it did get lonely. And you did want some recognition for your excellent torturing skills.

"Captain?"

"Yes, doll?"

"Would you like to come downstairs with me?"

"I thought ya'd never ask." Kid grinned and set you down on the deck. "Meet ya in five minutes."

You continued to the brig without him, wide smile creeping across your face. It was going to feel so good to watch those fucks squirm with both of your eyes. You kicked open the door to the brig, sauntering in with wicked thoughts brimming from your mind. You paced back and forth waiting for Kid, grabbing a cat o' nine tails off the wall. You may as well warm up while you waited. Warthin was still on his hands and knees in the position you had left him in. His back was a canvas begging to be painted red. Some days, you thought about trying to erase the memories of your captivity. If you did that, however, you wouldn't have the fuel to dole out the retribution these people deserved.

"None of you noticed my new eye. I'm offended." You slapped the handle of the nine tails in the palm of your hand. "Today, I thought we could start with some light whipping, then move on to couple's therapy, then finish up with group brutality. Any thoughts, questions, concerns? No? Good."

For the better part of a half-hour, you introduced the cat o' nine tails to Warthin's back, admiring the criss-crossed welts and lacerations that bloomed across his skin. Where the fuck is he? Kid was sure taking his time. Maybe he had gotten called away to take care of something. They had been talking about some abandoned island they'd heard about recently. It was probably something about that. Warthin's whimpering and sobbing brought overcame your thoughts. With one last, hard, lash, you left him to leak tears and blood onto the floor. The precious few marines you had left were very nearly broken. Their faces were fully drenched in dread and dripping with misery. Only the tiniest glimmer remained in their eyes, and you would make sure it was snuffed out.

You put your full body into their flogging. The sharp points on each end of the whips were invisible as they whipped through the air and the fleshy, wet impact was satisfying to your ears, though you wish you could hear more of it through their complaining. By the time you were out of breath, Kid still wasn't there and you felt like that was enough of a warm up. It was fine to switch your schedule around. You paced the wall of prisoners, sticking your fingers into their wounds while you thought about how you were going to do this. Warthin was in perfection position already. As promised, everything they did to you was going to be done to them.

"I hope you've all decided to cooperate." You bent down and jerked Warthin's head back by his hair, hissing in his face. "Aren't you excited? What's wrong?"

"P-please. Don't do this. Kill me fifty, no, one thousand more times but d-don't do this."

"I'm confused. You seemed to love it a few weeks ago." When he didn't reply, you continued, "Oh! I get it! You don't like being on the receiving end. Hold on. Let me check to something." You addressed the marines strung up on the wall, pointing at them as you spoke. "Remember when I said you needed to choose to fuck him or get fucked? Did anyone choose to get fucked? No?" You turned attention back to Warthin. "Yeah... unfortunately it seems like that's too fucking bad." You slapped him on the cheek and grinned. "I don't enjoy doing this, so you know. But I will enjoy your suffering."

The marine that seemed to have something against Warthin would be first. You took him from the wall and shackled him behind Warthin, with room to move. The one that won your little race went in front. The last remaining marine had a very special job. You had pruning shears for him to use later. They were a little rusty, probably not sharp, and had dried blood in the crevices. Warthin could dish it out but he couldn't take it. Suddenly, his manhood left his body and turned him into a sniveling bitch. So he would be taken like a bitch and you would have his manhood permanently removed.

"I want him in tears." You gestured for them to begin.

When you said you didn't enjoy doing this, it was the truth. It made you feel like a hypocrite in some respects. You were true to your word, however, and stuck to your "eye for an eye" ideology. Warthin deserved to feel everything that you had gone through. Maybe he would feel even a sliver of remorse for everything he had done if he knew how much pain it caused firsthand. Judging from his screams, he was learning. Soon, even his screams were muffled and occasional gagging replaced them.

It took them a minute to get started. Something about raping their superior had them shy. Funny, it didn't seem to stop them when it was you. A little persuasion helped them get into the mood, that and you manipulating them with your devil fruit. They would probably last a few hours, again thanks to your devil fruit. While they weren't grateful in the beginning for that, they were after you told them the first one to finish would win a unique prize. They knew by now that your promises were never good. Honestly, you got bored pretty quickly since you weren't the one directly inflicting pain.

"Tell me where to find Von Kossa and I'll make it stop," you addressed Warthin.

He didn't have an answer for you.

"Every time you refuse to answer, I'll make his dick bigger and your asshole smaller. So tell me what I want to know."

Warthin was struggling to stay conscious, or more likely, trying to retreat into the recesses of his mind. Something you were quite familiar with, thanks to him.

"Where is he?"

He was still present, but gave no answer.

You followed through with your threat, causing the marine fucking his ass to wince and a despair-filled wail to come from Warthin. "Tell me," you commanded him.

This went on a few more times before he crumbled. He started to say something, but there was a cock in the way, so you paused the mouth fucker and allowed Warthin to speak.

"I d-don't know where..." He paused to retch. "...he is." He saw the displeasure cross your face. "BUT! Hang on!" He weakly held his hand out in the universal gesture to stop. "Your ship. I can t-tell you where it is."

"Go on."

"Gomori Island."

"Okay." You clapped your hands. "Continue."

"BUT I TOLD YOU SOMETHING."

"And? That's not what I asked for, is it?"

"B-but it's your ship!"

There was still a part of you that longed for your ship deep down. "This is my ship." Not literally of course, but this was your home now. "Anyway, continue."

"NO! N-." He was cut off by the resumed throat fucking.

That pissed you off. Your arms were folded and the more you thought about it, the harder your hands clenched into fists. Warthin thought he could buy you. He thought he was still in control of what was happening here. You walked closer to him and healed his back, leaving only fresh, unmarred skin. Other torturers probably wouldn't have the balls to put a blade in the hand of a prisoner. But you weren't like other torturers, nor were you ignorant enough to let a prisoner get the upper hand. You gave a small knife to the butt-fucking marine and pushed the face-fucking one away. The, you kicked Warthin in the head as hard as you could. You really wanted to bludgeon him to death at the moment. You settled for one solid kick.

"You must think I'm stupid," You sneered. "I always get what I want and you don't get to compromise with me. So tell me where Von Kossa is or keep your worthless mouth shut."

A bright red and purple bruise bloomed on the side of his face and one of his eyes had blood leaking into the whites. The bones of his cheek and eye socket were collapsed, deforming his face.

"You're going to write me an apology, and since you're otherwise occupied, Lieutenant Buttfuck over here is going to write it down for you. Start telling him what to write." You motioned to the knife and Warthin's back. "You, write. And don't stop fucking him."

Between the kick in the head and his asshole ripping, Warthin could barely focus on thinking of an apology. Several times he had to restart because his buddy's handwriting wasn't legible. It ends up taking quite a long time. At least this was less boring than before, and maybe now you would have something worth mailing to the marines. Something like this might force Von Kossa out since it was essentially a written confession implicating him. Would it be like kicking a bee's nest to taunt the marines this way? Probably, but the idea brought a smile to your face. If they didn't already know you were alive, they would.

While they were busy doing that, you didn't want the other two to miss out on any fun. That wouldn't be fair. You wished Kid would show his face. It was tiring having to torture four people simultaneously by yourself. You really were an artist, a director. A director of the most gruesome play on a private stage. The other two, you decided, would be sewn together in a sort of ouroboros sixty-nining situation, constantly choking and gagging but unable to pull away. They rolled around on the floor, desperate to find a position that offered any relief. You had to stomp them or kick them away a few times when they almost interrupted your other venture. When your written apology was finished, you kicked your prisoner away from Warthin, dick popping out of Warthin's ass with a wet popping sound. With a wave of your hand you incapacitated him with the exception of his arm and his cock.

"Cut your cock off. You don't need it anymore."

He hesitated, eyes wide.

"Cut it off or I'll make it explode. No. I'll make it implode. That's right. Implode." You didn't actually know what that entailed. Something like the penis involuting back inside his body or folding in on itself you imagined.

He started sawing the thing off immediately, which was taking much longer than expected since all the letter carving dulled the blade. You were impressed that he held in his screams even a little bit. Not long after, he was spitting and screaming and wailing, cursing your name. While your wards were busy, you started meticulously skinning Warthin's back. If you could dry and tan the skin properly, it would look sick. You couldn't very well send it fresh or the rot would mess the words up.

Engrossed in your detailed work, you almost didn't see the door open. Kid stood in the doorway, taking in your activities. His expression ranged from shock to bewilderment to acceptance, all in swift succession.

"Where the fuck have ya been?"

"I was about to say the same thing!"

"Was waitin for ya in my cabin."

"I said- oh you thought downstairs meant-" You rolled your eyes. "You were waiting this whole time? It's been hours."

Kid scoffed. "I only waited like twenty minutes."

"So what were you doing the rest of the time?"

"Jerking off? Duh."

"It's been hours."

"I was edging in case ya showed up."

"There's something wrong with you."

Kid looked pointedly at what you were doing.

"What? This is my craft."

"Jerking off is my craft." Kid noticed the two guys still struggling on the floor. "Nice."

This perked you up. "Do you like it?"

"Ya know I like when ya do fucked up shit." Kid's eyes drifted among your victims. "Damn, did ya leave anything for me?"

You freed the two marines who were attached mouth-to-dick with your fruit, separating them. They were in mostly good shape. "I thought we could try something new."

"Oh fuck yeah! Like pegging?"

"New torture. Torture."

"So is that a firm no?"

You stared incredulously at him. "Do you think you could focus?"

"Whatever, doll." Kid huffed, coming over to pat your head. "What does yer little heart desire?"

You were finishing up removing the skin from Warthin's back. "Remember a while back, when I suggested that you could probably control blood?"

"Aye, that was right before we-"

"Yes. Right before that." You cut him off, not really wanting to share any of those details with the ears of prisoners.

Kid's wide grin flashed. "I've been curious about that myself."

After you hung Warthin's skin up to dry, Kid and yourself put the prisoners back on the wall. You grabbed the dismembered... member, and shoved it into its owners mouth, not with your bare hand, of course. Then you gagged him, hoping he would slowly choke to death. You didn't forget to take the knife away from him either. Kid was exceedingly rough when he put Warthin back into the wall shackles, making sure his raw back was touching the rough wall as much as possible, and stretching his joints to their limits. Actually, you were certain his shoulders were dislocated. They were all screaming, yet you could mostly tune it out since you were so used to it.

Starting simple, you put a small cut in one of the marines. The blood trickled out slowly. Kid tried to focus on feeling the blood, like how he could feel metal objects. It was a much fainter sense than he was accustomed to, yet he was certain he could feel it. Kid put all his effort into redirecting the drip horizontally, defying gravity. It paused for half a second, possibly moving almost indiscernibly to the right. Seeing this, Kid gained confidence that this was something he could do. If he could learn it, and control it, it would prove to be a very dangerous power. And he could keep his dick hard longer. This new thought motivated him. He wasn't even going to think about trying it until he was sure he wouldn't blow his cock off, even though he had some incredibly detailed plans for a mechanical replacement penis with a bunch of awesome attachments, including but not limited to, a flamethrower and nail clippers. If it ever came to that.

Whenever Kid got frustrated with his lack of progress, there were very stress-relieving meat punching bags ready to take his anger out on. All you did was heal them enough so that they would live, not live really, but so they would die differently later. You noticed that he would hit Warthin much harder than the rest of them. It was touching that he still harbored rage for him on your behalf. It must have been an hour before Kid managed to move a finger. After he moved the trickling blood stream, he graduated to trying to move blood still inside the person. He was stuck on moving the fingers ever so slightly. He couldn't do more than that.

"This shit is too fucking hard!"

"Are you a quitter?"

"NO!" Kid growled. "What's the fuckin point? Yer power can do this!"

"What if I'm not around and you need to use it?"

"When are ya not gonna be around?!"

"I don't know! It's a hypothetical!"

"YER NOT LEAVIN MY SIGHT! Ya keep getting lost!"

"Technically, I was stolen."

"DON'T FUCKIN REMIND ME!" Kid turned his attention to Warthin, barely restraining himself from ripping him apart.

"I'm not planning on going anywhere." You put his attention back on his task. Maybe later you would let him have a turn with Warthin. It might be fun to watch Kid and Killer take their anger out on him.

Kid struggled for a while longer, getting more irritated with every passing second. You figured it might be like this. You could always take a break and try again some other time. No one can master a technique in a day. You suggested taking a break but he shot you down, now too stubborn to give up. Kid was predictable. As such, you thought of something that may help.

"Hey."

"WHAT?!"

"If you can move his arm, I'll peg you."

Kid blinked and turned back to the marine. Without warning, the marine's arm popped off his body and flew around the room like an untied balloon, spraying blood over both of you.

His amber eyes glanced at the stump of the marines arm and the lifeless limb on the floor. "HA! LET'S GO!" He ran and grabbed you around the middle, barreling toward the door.

"Wait! Wait." He set you down. "I almost forgot." You found the long gloves that were kept for messy situations and donned them. Then, you grabbed the pruning shears and held them over a flame until they glowed molten orange. This was meant to be done by the leftover marine since you didn't really want to touch Warthin's dick at all. It still made your skin crawl to think about. The pleasure of chopping his dick off and shoving it up his ass should really be yours and no one else's, however, so you made the sacrifice.

You imagined it would be one clean chop. To his dismay, it took several chops to get the thing off, quite a lot really. It just kept getting jammed between the blades, folding over them, instead of being cut, like when you cut plastic ties with dull scissors. The entire point of heating it was to cauterize the vessels so it didn't make him bleed out. That didn't really pan out since it cooled down over the period of cutting. You feigned an apologetic expression as you mangled it further. It looked like you stuffed firecrackers in one end of it by the time you had actually severed it completely, or maybe like a small dog had gnawed on it for a while. It mattered little what it looked like because you held it in your fist and punched it straight up his asshole, reaching as far as you could go and jamming it there. The disgust hit later. In the moment, it felt good to hurt him. You wanted to rip him apart from the inside. You wanted to shove both your arms up his ass and tear him in two. And you could probably do it. But it was almost time for dinner and you didn't want to spoil your appetite.

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

#finally #y'all already know I can't be serious with the chapter titles lmao #one piece #massacre soldier killer #marooned #eustass kid #x reader #eustass kid x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader #kid x reader x killer

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buggyboba · 5 months ago

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◇ Me And The Devil ◇

{Vampire!Missy x Female Reader}

A game of cat and mouse, leads to feeding your vampire alien and more.

AN: hi, hello! I have zero self control, please accept this bit of smut as an apology for being missing for a month. ♡ but also low key let me know if you want this to be a series and not a one off. -Buggy

TW: blood, Smut (fingering, reader receiving) pet names (Missy says good girl and pet) mentions of hypnosis but it's vague.

Word count: 3000 A03 link [x]

—--- x —----

Your heart pounded, you knew she could hear it, helping her pinpoint where you were, if that didn't do it, you had sliced your arm on something sharp in your latest attempt to hide. The scent fills the area, luring her to you like a shark. You tried to sink further into the ship, but it seemed her Tardis had a mind of its own, and it was most certainly working against you to help its master in this game of cat and mouse, silly loyal old thing.

"If you don't stop trying to hide, little mouse, I will be forced to chain you up, and as much fun as that could be." Missy’s voice was a dangerous growl, her normally cold blue eyes slit much light cat eyes and shifted to a crimson as she sniffed the air, You could see her from where you hid. There was no way she wasn't going to find you. “Where are you even trying to go, we are in space silly.” She almost spoke in a sing-song tone. “You would die, you know, frozen little chunks of human ice cubes,” she smirked. “Could use you to chill my drink,” she muttered, her eyes scanning for you.

The Time Lady was trying to hold her desire back, her fangs lengthened and her soft pink tongue ran over them. The action was equal parts salacious and terrifying. She made a show of looking everywhere around you before she jolted towards you pulling you from your hiding spot and roughly pinning your arm above your head as she pushed your body against the wall, her tongue poking into the leaking cut licking up collecting your blood, you didn't feel the sting that should have been there, the sting that kept your heart pounding, you assumed it was her saliva, you weren’t an expert on vampires, none the less alien vampires, that was the closest thing you could use to describe her.

Her eyes darkened more as she pressed against you, keeping your hips pinned with hers, sucking on the cut. “I do love it when we play cat and mouse, it's exhilarating isn't it?” She smirked against your arm, languid licks and overly loud sucks filled the air with wet bordering on lewd sounds. She kept you pinned for a moment longer before she pulled her lips and tongue away from you with a playful pop, her lips smeared with your blood. You panted softly, your head spinning.

“You like it, you know you do, my dear.” She practically purred in your ear, giving her hips a playful roll against yours, her other hand moved to grab your chin tilting it gently with two fingers, her eyes back to normal as she stared into yours, you felt your mind tug a bit, as she grinned.

You had felt this feeling before, the night she took you as her ‘companion’. She had called you that with such a tone that it had made you uneasy. She had so ‘graciously saved you from your mundane little human ape life,’ you remember her saying. She had whisked you off, showed you stars and planets, luring you into staying. Her beauty had captivated you, she was more beautiful than anything you had ever seen, with slightly pointed ears, pale skin, and those mesmerizing light blue eyes. She was charming, so charming, but there was always a hint of danger behind her words and actions. Anytime you had suggested returning to your home, or life, she would tilt your chin to have you look into her eyes, and your mind would get fuzzy and you would agree to one more adventure. You don’t remember how many times you said ‘one more adventure’, now.

Then she let you see who, what she truly was, when she had run out of her supply of what you had thought was wine. You knew now it was blood, the first time had been a whirlwind of fear and chaos, she pinned you beneath her with such strength you couldn’t squirm away, you thought she was going to take you by the way her lips were against your neck, giving your neck hot opened mouth kisses, the way her tongue curled and licked against your pulse, that had been hammering in your throat, before sinking her fangs into it, you remembered it had only hurt for a moment before a warm feeling fell over you. That's what started your new ‘relationship’, she had decided your blood was intoxicating, better than anything she had tasted lately. You were her ‘human juice box’ she affectionately called you, you didn’t find it affectionate at the time, but it had started to grow on you.

“So my dear, should we continue this somewhere more comfortable? Or do you want to run again, I do so love the chase.” she purred into your ear, kissing behind your ear, then down your neck. Sending warm shivers through you. “Submit to your Mistress, Pet.” she breathed out, her hands slowly moving down your sides to your hips, her nails dug in a bit, causing you to hiss out softly. Your hands moved to hold her arms lightly, as she kissed your neck again, her tongue pressed to your throat, making you shiver again as she licked up it. You felt your resolve slipping, your mind getting fuzzy again. “Mmm that’s it pet, say yes.” she nipped at your earlobe. You felt a soft whine leave your throat, it almost surprised you, but the sound only produced a low growl from Missy. “That wasn’t a yes,” she breathed out, not that she needed you to say yes, she could just take what she wanted, she had before, but it made the blood taste so much sweeter when you submitted. You weakly nodded, and she gave a playful mock scoff, “use your words, I know your brain isn’t too far gone, pet.” she teased and pulled you closer to her.

“Yes Mistress.” you relented finally, and she grinned wider.

“Mm, good girl.” she praised, and pulled away suddenly, the sudden lack of contact caused you to almost whine again. “Come along pet.” she motioned with two fingers to follow her, which you did with the grace of a lost puppy. The sound of her heeled boots echoed through the silent walk towards her bedroom. She would cast looks behind her to make sure you were still following, though she knew you were, her movements had a certain sway to them as she walked, a new pep in her step.

The dim, lavender light of the tardis lit the way, and soon they were in front of her door. “After you, my dear,” she said opening the door, you obediently walked in, immediately your senses were filled with her perfume, making your head dizzy again, but it had become such a familiar almost comforting scent when she wasn’t thirsty and hunting you. You felt her presence behind you, her arms wrapped around your waist pulling you back into her, her face buried into your neck, it would have been nice, almost romantic if you hadn’t known better. Her hand moved to pull your hair to the side, exposing more of your neck to her as she took in your scent, appraising you like a fine wine. She moved, slipping away from you, her hand trailed your arm to your hand, pulling you towards the lavish bed sat in the middle of the back wall, the soft black sheets calling for your body. Your legs moved, walking with her, before she gently pushed you back, the back of your knees hitting the bed’s edge, causing you to sit, she moved with you, pulling her skirt up just a bit as she moved, straddling your lap, forcing you back on the bed more. The breath caught in your throat, as she dipped her head to your neck again, planting surprisingly soft kisses against it, almost in reverence. Your eyes closed at the action, it always surprised you when she was softer, actions that didn’t fit the woman you had come to know. Her hands moved up your body, fingertips trailing up your stomach, over your chest dragging a bit until they got to your neck, feeling your pulse quicken beneath her fingertips, cold against your warm skin. You knew she was doing this for you, these soft touches, she wouldn’t admit it, she would say it was to make the blood taste better, but you had seen her tear apart an alien before, ripping into its throat, so you knew she didn’t need this to drink from you.

You let your hands move, testing if she would let you touch her, when she didn’t stop you, you let your fingers push under her tight jacket to touch her sides, feeling the soft fabric of her white blouse. You wondered if she didn’t secretly crave the touch as well, that’s why she did this so sensually. She would deny that as well, saying she was above such things, that your need for touch was just left over from the primordial ooze you crawled out of, that she was superior because her civilization had grown out of it, you didn’t believe her, not for one second. You had seen the glances, the ones where she looked at you when you weren’t paying attention. When her edges would soften just for a moment, and you could have sworn there was something there, something that wasn't just her playing with you.

Missy pulled at your top, stretching it down to your shoulder as she kissed down it more, your flesh marred with her teeth marks, scarred, and claimed as hers and only hers. Her breath ghosted against your collarbone as she nipped it, your body pressed against her more as she sucked against it, the warmth spreading through your body, you tried not to make a sound, but a harder suck produced a low groan, which seemed to amuse her as you felt her smirk against your skin, there was rarely any talking during these moments, which was also odd, because Missy wouldn’t shut up most times, but in times like this it was just them, pressed together you feeding her with your blood, her feeding you with her touch. Her lips dragged back up to your neck before you felt the pinprick of her fangs sinking into your flesh. Her body pressed harder against yours pushing you back, so your back would hit the soft mattress beneath you. Her hands wandered down again gripping your hip tightly as she sucked against your neck, drawing your blood to the surface, her eyes closed at the taste. You were divine, delicious, and exquisite, but these are praises she would never say to you, she didn’t want you to get an ego after all. Her tongue lapped at the wound she had made before she bit another part of your neck, her other hand steadied the back of your neck so you couldn’t move your head away, not that you would, she had you right where she wanted you. You felt her body shift as she pressed her knee between your legs, forcing them apart a bit, your hands grabbing at her side tighter as you arched into her more, giving a weak rut against her leg, this produced a low, almost groan sound from her.

Missy’s grip tightened as her sucks became harder, her tongue pressing harder against the wound, her senses filled with the taste and scent of you, her lip curled up in a soft snarl, as she let her hand move down your hip to your leg pulling it up against her waist. The action pulled a surprised gasp from your partly opened lips, which in turn made Missy give a dark chuckle as she freed your other leg to also find its place on her waist. She let you weakly grind against her in need. Her hand moved down her nails trailed against your inner thigh teasing closely to the apex between your legs. “Hush now you needy thing.” She muttered against your neck licking up it. “Are you going to be a good girl next time I want to feed?” She let her fingers stroke your covered slit up to tease your clit, through the fabric of your underwear.

Was she really bargaining with intimacy? She did know how to get what she wanted, and you were no exception. You quickly nodded, “Yes!” You breathed out quickly, Missy paused her hand waiting for you to fix your mistake, which caused you to whine out trying to lift your hips against her hand more. “Yes, Mistress!” You corrected after a moment, she gave a contented hum, moving her fingers again, slow teasing circles that elicited low groans from your throat.

The scent of your arousal hit her nose, and her pupils contracted as she let her lips drag up to your jaw kissing along your jawline, before nipping there, not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to be aware of the sensation. Her hands moved fingers hooked around the sides of your panties, she pulled them down slowly, teasing with anticipation. Your body wanted, no you needed her touch again, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for you. She wanted your desperation, she wanted your cried-out begs, and she was going to get them.

Her fingers touched you flush slipping through the wetness of your arousal, you felt her shiver, “Mmm, barely did anything and you are practically dripping, sweet girl.” She breathed out against your ear, her breath ghosting against the shell of your ear, before she sunk two of her long fingers into you slowly, delighting in the way your walls flexed against them in need. She curled them as she thrusted them in a slow coaxing pace, determined to draw it out and make you beg her for it. Once again her teeth were in your neck, causing you to cry out in pleasure, your body softly shaking beneath her as she worked slowly.

“Mi-Missy please!” You breathed out quickly, your hips moving to meet her pace rocking trying to urge her, but you knew it wasn't going to work, she had her mind set on dragging it out, making you a writhing mess, she wanted to draw screams from you. She made a contemplative ‘hm’ sound giving her fingers a particularly harder deeper thrust into you, causing your body to jolt in pleasure. “Mistress please!” You tried using her title instead of the name she had given you, this earned you a bit faster and steady movements, her fingers curled to press against your walls, pressing and rubbing with expert precision your sweet spot, the sound that left your throat was of pure pleasure as you tilted your head back more. A soft stream of cursing and her name fell from your lips. “Please! I need!” You choked out your thighs starting to shake.

“Mm need what?” She leaned away smirking. “Come on pretty girl, use your words…I know you can, or have your brains gone all mushy from pleasure?” She grinned, her thumb circling your clit in a teasing manner, firm enough to add to your pleasure but not enough to push you over. “You can do it.” She teased you playfully. “Tell your Mistress what you want…and maybe she will give it to you, kitten.” She watched the pleasure wash over your cheeks in a blush, “look at you red as a cherry…” She mused. “Probably thrice as sweet.” She breathed out licking her lips.

“I need more!” You whined softly.

“More? you needy girl!” She gave a cheeky look at you. You gave an exasperated sound, her teasing always got to you, and you were always a breath away from trying to choke her, or kissing her at any given time. “Oh you sound so desperate, go on ask me nicely.” She nipped at your jaw softly.

“MISSY!! Please! I need more of you, Mistress, please!” You begged out quickly, not sure how much of her slow teasing you could take. She rolled her eyes acting like Your need inconvenienced her game, it probably did but you couldn't think about it right now, your blood was on fire in desperate need of release.

“Oh alright then pet.” She tsked, her fingers moved faster drawing beautiful moans from your throat, pushing you farther into pleasure, driving you to the edge of your climax.

Her teeth drew across your neck again, to your throat as you let out a louder groan, her tongue pressed against it feeling the vibrations, she let her lips settle between your jaw and where it connected with your neck sucking there, pulling the blood to the surface making a dark bruised hickey.

The pleasure finally washed over you as you arched against her again, a choked out loud “Missy~” as you came, her fingers moved still coaxing you through your climax until she was sure you were spent, your body giving small shakes in the aftershock, she pulled her fingers from you. You watched as she let her tongue wrap around her digits cleaning you off them, a soft gasp escaped from your parted lips.

“I was right thrice as sweet.” She smirked at you. “You made a mess, sweet girl.” She mockingly stated. “But because you were good, I suppose you can stay here at least until you recover.” She shrugged. You nodded softly, you knew it was because she wanted you there, and you would take it for tonight. These rare moments always warmed you, you craved them, and she gave you just enough of them to keep you wanting more.

Missy moved off the bed, her tongue darted out to collect the bit of blood from the corner of her lips that remained. "Get some sleep," she said moving to leave you in the bed, alone with your thoughts. Fuck, you were a human juice box for the hottest woman you had ever seen, and you couldn't help but feel excited for the next time she would need to feed.

—--x—--

Taglist:

@Theonetruepotato87 @neurodiverse-dumpingground @lena-kieran-luthor @marisacoulterswife @germansarechill @vivvision @skarrkiie @missyblr @toastvogel @what-bout-me @shipshroom @lilibrina

#missy x reader #gomez!master x reader #the master x reader #tw: blood #tw: smut #missy x fem!reader

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yeolsaintlaurent · 2 months ago

Text

Nocturnal Reverie ch.11 [PCY]

pairing - chanyeol x fem reader

genre - mature, smut, angst

themes - power imbalance, romance, crime, justice, class divide, politics, sex

synopsis - In the sprawling, dystopian city of Emberhaven, where power and corruption reign supreme, the lives of two unlikely individuals collide in a tale of passion, intrigue, and moral reckoning. Chanyeol, an enigmatic and wealthy scion of the city's elite, finds himself captivated by the elusive Y/N, a cunning and resourceful thief who navigates the treacherous underworld of Emberhaven. Their first encounter, sparked by a chance meeting in a luxurious club called The Velvet Lounge, sets the stage for a whirlwind romance amidst a backdrop of crime, politics, and danger.

warnings - drug use

A/N - i am so so so glad to be back and writing. thank you for reading this series after my long ass hiatus. so many notifications kept popping up during the hiatus about likes and reblogs on Nocturnal Reverie and CVMF and it always made me smile and filled with joy. i am very grateful for all the readers new and old. as always, let me know what you think about this chapter. feedback is always welcome. love you all xx

Chapter 11: The Message

Y/N stirred awake in Chanyeol's bed, the sheets cool beside her where he should have been. She reached out instinctively but found only emptiness. Frowning, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 11 AM. He must have gone out early. Maybe he had things to take care of.

Yawning, she got up and padded toward the kitchen. Her cat, a sleek, black feline named Kat, greeted her with a purr and a brush against her legs. She picked him up, rubbing his belly affectionately. He purred louder, a comforting sound in the quiet apartment.

"Good morning, Kat," she murmured, setting him down to fill his bowls with wet food, dry food, and fresh water. He meowed appreciatively before diving into his breakfast.

Opening the fridge, Y/N found a carton of strawberry juice and took a long swig straight from it. She smiled to herself, enjoying the small luxuries of Chanyeol’s well-stocked kitchen. His fancy coffee machine caught her eye, and she decided to make herself a caramel macchiato. As the machine whirred to life, her thoughts wandered to Chanyeol.

She still knew so little about what he did for a living. He had mentioned something about cutting off his family and wanting to start a new life, but the details were vague. What could have been so important that he took such a drastic step? He had said it was something that didn’t align with his values, but why? And what exactly had he done?

The rich aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, snapping her out of her reverie. Her macchiato was ready. She poured it into a mug and carried it to the lounge, sinking into the plush couch. She turned on the TV, flicking through channels until she stopped at the news.

The headline on the screen made her freeze. "Apartment Fire in Emberhaven: Possible Arson." Her heart skipped a beat. The image of the burning building filled the screen. It was her apartment.

“Oh no,” she whispered, clutching the mug tightly. Whoever did this was sending her a message, and she received it loud and clear. Lucio’s men. It had to be them.

The reporter’s voice cut through her shock. "We have an interview with the lead investigator on the scene." The camera switched to a familiar face. Minseok.

“We believe the perpetrator is someone we’ve been monitoring for a long time,” Minseok said, his expression grim.

Y/N's mind raced. Was he talking about Lucio or her? She turned off the TV and leaned back, closing her eyes. Things were getting worse. She had to find a way to fix this before anyone else got hurt.

Reaching for her phone, she quickly sent a message to Kai. She waited for a response, but none came. As she was about to set her phone down, a notification popped up from a private number. Her heart pounded as she opened it.

"Come here at 10:30 PM tonight with the money and goods, and all will be forgiven", with a pin to what seemed to be an obscure alley leading to the docks.

A million thoughts raced through her mind. This could be her way out, but it could also be a trap. Whatever it was, it was her problem to solve, her burden to bear. She wouldn’t drag Chanyeol into this mess, not when she loved him as much as she did. She had to protect him, even if it meant facing the danger alone.

At the police station, Minseok sat behind his desk, the clutter of papers and case files spread before him. He was deep in conversation with a fellow officer about the fire when his phone rang, the harsh sound cutting through the room. He picked up the receiver, his expression hardening as the warden's grim voice crackled through the line.

"Lucio has escaped. Four of our officers are dead."

Minseok's face twisted in anger. "What the hell were you doing while this happened? How could you let a high-profile mobster away?" His voice was a mix of fury and disbelief.

The warden's response was muffled, but the weight of the news hit Minseok like a freight train. This was troubling beyond measure. He slammed the receiver down, his mind racing with the implications. They had to act fast.

Grabbing his cellphone, he dialed Kyungsoo. The phone barely rang twice before Kyungsoo answered.

"Lucio escaped," Minseok said without preamble. "We need to accelerate our plans. This is escalating faster than we anticipated."

Kyungsoo's voice was steady. "Understood. What do you need?"

"We need to find Lucio again, and fast. But there's more. The apartment that was torched—it was supposed to be abandoned. But the remains suggest someone was living there. A woman. I don’t think it is farfetched to assume that it could be the girl we saw during the sting."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Kyungsoo's mind raced. He had his suspicions about who she might be based on his conversations with Chanyeol, but he kept his voice neutral. "I'll handle the matter of the girl. It's my responsibility to find out more about her."

Minseok agreed, albeit reluctantly. "Fine. But I'm increasing the number of people in this case. We need to catch Lucio, and fast. Once we have him, we can move on to Dom."

"I'll keep you updated," Kyungsoo said before hanging up. He couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get even more complicated.

Y/N stood in the dimly lit alley, the shadows swallowing her slight figure clad in all black. She checked her phone screen for the time—10:15 PM. The cold night air bit at her skin as she waited for any message from the unknown sender. She took a deep breath and sent her live location to Kai. She knew he had her back, no matter what. Their bond was forged in childhood, built on trust and countless shared secrets. She smiled at the thought of how she used to entrust him with her precious beanie baby toys and her weekly allowance.

Suddenly, the alley was flooded with bright headlights. She squinted against the harsh light, quickly tucking her phone into her boot. The car door creaked open, and she heard the unmistakable sound of heavy boots hitting the pavement.

"Well, well, well," a raspy, sarcastic voice drawled. "Look who decided to show up."

Y/N's heart raced. Lucio.

He stepped into the light, a sneer on his face, his eyes raking over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "You did the right thing, sweetheart," he said, his voice laced with crude amusement. "Now, why don't you come over here and give me that duffel bag? Nice and slow."

Y/N swallowed her fear and took a tentative step forward, clutching the bag tightly. "Here it is," she said, her voice steady despite the terror clawing at her insides. She approached Lucio, her eyes never leaving his.

Lucio's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "That's it, nice and easy," he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "Gotta say, you clean up nice. It's a shame you're mixed up in all this."

Y/N forced herself to stay calm, to focus on the task at hand. She held out the duffel bag, but Lucio didn't take it right away. Instead, he reached out and ran a finger down her arm, making her shudder with revulsion.

"Such a brave little thing," he sneered, leaning in close. "But bravery won't get you far in this world, darling. Especially not with the kind of people you're dealing with."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Just take the bag and leave me out of this," she said, her voice firm.

Lucio chuckled, a dark, mocking sound. "Oh, I don't think so. You see, you're part of this now. And there's no getting out."

He finally took the bag from her, opening it to inspect the contents. His eyes lit up as he saw the money and the goods inside. "Well, well, you actually came through. I'm almost impressed."

Y/N took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. "You got what you wanted. Never ever contact me again."

Lucio looked up from the bag, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "Not so fast, sweetheart. We need to have a little chat first. About your boyfriend."

Her blood ran cold. "What about him?"

Lucio's smile widened. "Oh, don't play dumb with me. You think I don't know who he is? What he is? Chanyeol’s got a lot of people interested in him. And now, because of him, they're interested in you too."

She tried to mask her fear with anger. "Leave him out of this. He has nothing to do with your business."

Lucio laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Oh! Is that what you think? How cute." He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Get in the car while I'm still being nice," he said, his voice dripping with fake politeness.

Y/N's heart raced. "Fuck you! And what if I refuse?" she challenged, her voice steady despite the fear gripping her.

Lucio's expression darkened, the sarcasm vanishing. "Then your little lover will get hurt. A lot. I'll make sure of it."

As he spoke, Y/N's hand slowly reached toward the knife in her right boot. But before she could react, two large figures appeared from the shadows behind her, grabbing her roughly. She struggled, but they overpowered her easily, throwing her into the car.

Lucio smirked to himself as he turned and got into the car next to Y/N. By now, her hands and feet were tied, and a strip of tape was plastered across her mouth. She thrashed around, desperate to free herself, but it was no use.

"Quiet down," Lucio ordered, his voice cold. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of white powder. He poured it onto a tray in front of him and meticulously cut lines into the cocaine. As the car started moving, he rolled up a 100 bill and snorted a line.

Lucio then turned toward Y/N, gesturing the rolled-up bill toward her as if to offer some. She angrily turned away, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

Her mind raced, searching for a way out. She glanced at Lucio, who seemed momentarily lost in his drug-induced haze. Despite her terror, she knew she had to stay calm and wait for the right moment to escape. Her life, and possibly Chanyeol's, depended on it.

As the car came to a halt, the tires crunching over the gravel, Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine. Lucio, still engrossed in his cocaine-fueled haze, clumsily opened the door and gestured for her to follow. The two large figures who had been his enforcers stepped out first, their imposing forms casting long shadows in the dim light.

Y/N was pulled roughly from the car, the cold night air biting at her skin. She was led toward a large, dilapidated building that loomed ominously in the distance. As they approached, the grandeur of the structure became more apparent despite its current state of decay.

It was an old theatre, its faded grandeur hinting at a time when it had been the heart of cultural life. The exterior was crumbling, with ivy creeping up the walls and broken windows revealing glimpses of the interior. The building’s once-majestic façade was now scarred with neglect, but it still retained an air of faded opulence.

The men pushed Y/N inside, and she stumbled into the grand foyer. The interior was a ghostly echo of its former self: ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals coated in dust; velvet drapes lined the walls, tattered and moth-eaten; and the remnants of plush seating lay scattered about, some torn and others still surprisingly intact.

Lucio led her through the foyer, his footsteps echoing off the high ceilings. The grandeur of the theatre’s stage was revealed as they entered the main hall. Despite the dust and cobwebs, the stage retained its regal charm, with its once-brilliant red curtains now hanging in tatters and the remnants of a lavishly decorated backdrop partially visible.

Y/N was brought to the centre of the stage, her heart pounding with anxiety. The vast space around her seemed empty and imposing. Lucio’s men roughly tied her to a sturdy wooden chair placed in the middle of the stage, securing her wrists and ankles with thick rope. A strip of tape was placed over her mouth, effectively silencing any protests or pleas for help.

Lucio stood at the edge of the stage, his presence looming over her. He gazed around the old theatre with a smirk, clearly amused by the contrast between its former splendour and its current state of decay.

“Now,” Lucio said, his voice dripping with false politeness, “we’re going to move on to the more important part of our business. I suggest you make yourself comfortable, though I doubt you’ll be enjoying the show.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of white powder. He dipped into it with a tiny golden spoon. After snorting it, he turned toward Y/N with a mocking gesture, offering her some.

Y/N turned her head away in disgust, her anger and fear battling for control. Lucio’s smirk widened as he took another hit.

“Just so you know,” he said, his tone growing darker, “if you don’t cooperate, Chanyeol will be the one to suffer. I can make sure of that, believe me.”

He then gestured for the men to leave the stage, and they exited, their footsteps fading into the distance. The theatre’s oppressive silence enveloped Y/N, amplifying her sense of isolation.

Alone on the stage, Y/N surveyed her surroundings with a mix of hope and desperation. The grandeur of the theatre, despite its decay, might hold some hidden opportunities. She had to stay calm and find a way to escape, both for herself and for Chanyeol.

As Y/N remained tied to the chair, the echoes of Lucio’s footsteps grew fainter, leaving her alone in the oppressive silence of the abandoned theatre. The dim light from a single overhead bulb flickered intermittently, casting long shadows that danced across the stage. Her thoughts raced with plans for escape, but for now, she had to wait.

Outside, the night air was crisp and cool, and the city lights shimmered faintly in the distance. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Chanyeol was pacing anxiously in his upscale apartment, his mind a whirlwind of worry. The usual calm of his surroundings did little to soothe his nerves, especially with Y/N missing and the fire at her apartment still fresh in his mind.

Chanyeol’s phone buzzed on the glass coffee table, pulling him from his anxious thoughts. He picked it up, expecting a message from Y/N or a far-fetched text from Kai. Instead, the screen displayed a single notification from an unknown number.

He tapped on it, and the message that appeared was cryptic and chilling:

“If you want her back, you need to act fast. Tonight’s performance is just the beginning. Come to the old theatre at midnight. Time is running out.”

Chanyeol’s heart raced as he read the message, his face going pale. The gravity of the situation hit him like a freight train. The old theatre—he knew where that was. The message was a sinister hint about what was to come, and the urgency in its words made his stomach churn.

He quickly glanced at his watch; it was already past ten-thirty. There was no time to waste. Chanyeol’s mind raced as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. His phone buzzed again, but he didn’t have time to check it. He had to get to the theatre and figure out what Lucio had planned.

The apartment was left in chaotic disarray as Chanyeol rushed out, his pulse pounding in his ears. He had to find Y/N before it was too late. The message had made one thing painfully clear: the night was far from over, and the real danger was just beginning.

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