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nanaslutt · 1 year ago

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Perv!Geto taking care of you while you're sick

note: if you keep up with my perv!geto series, this takes place after reader & geto are together, if you don't, just read this as an established relationship fic :)

—

contains: fem reader, whipped!geto, masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, teasing, nipple play, panty licking/sniffing, cum eating, fantasizing, slight somno

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Geto had been taking care of you for about a week now, but not in the hot, steamy, limbs-tangled-together-for-hours-on-end way. You had come down with a horrible cold right after Christmas, and being your roomie and boyfriend—Geto was attending to your every need.

It had been exactly seven days since you had first come down with the sickness. At first, it started off as a sore throat and nothing more, but the days following would turn into your own personal hell. Every single symptom of the flu managed to take over you, making you wish Geto would've killed you the night before you got sick when he was choking you out while fucking you dumb.

Geto had been so attentive throughout your whole sickness. He had brought you a cold wet rag every hour, slept with you at night, made sure you were eating no matter how much you didnt feel like it, held your hair when you got sick, and literally carried you all around the house when you wanted to go somewhere.

It even got to a point where he had to help you shower, sitting you down between his thighs on a small shower stool he instructed you to close your eyes while he massaged the shampoo into your hair, not wanting any to go into your eyes—you didnt need to be in any more pain than you already were.

Geto took your temperature every hour to make sure you never got too hot. If it did, he would've rushed you to the hospital in an instant. Luckily your fever broke after the third day, which meant for the last couple of days, you had been able to walk around the house yourself if you needed something. Granted if Geto saw you out of bed he scooped you up and immediately tucked you back into the sheets, demanding you tell him what you need so he could get it for you.

Geto loved taking care of you, he loved pampering you and doing mundane things for you, which is why he didnt mind helping you so much. The only downside to you being sick though.. no sex.

Since the two of you had started hooking up, even before you made things official, the both of you never went more than two days doing something sexual with one another. Of course, Geto felt so bad you were sick, and he wanted you to get better asap just for the sake of you not being sick anymore--but being able to have sex with you again was going to be a nice bonus.

Geto had to seriously restrain himself when you pressed yourself back into him, trying to steal his body heat while you were half asleep. He had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of Gojo in order to not pop a boner right now. Geto doesn't think he's ever thought about Gojo so much in one week.

When he had you naked in front of him in the shower, your body swaying while you tried to keep yourself away as the warm water hit your skin, he was so glad you were facing away from him. You had just spent the entire night being sick in the bathroom, you had a splitting headache and were barely staying conscious for christ sake and here he was, hard as a rock as he rubbed the washcloth over your soft skin, cleaning every inch of your body.

One night, he had woken up in the middle of the night and saw the comforter that was once covering the two of you, was discarded at the edge of the bed--your shaking frame exposed to his eyes. He made you wear only a tank top and panties to bed that night to try and lower your body temperature. You had protested of course, but you must've gotten hot at some point, as there was a thin layer of sweat on your skin.

Geto immediately knew he was hard, he didnt even have to look. Your ass was pressed right against his crotch, cradling his stiff cock perfectly. He knew his erection wasn't going to go away unless he did something about it. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to use your thighs, just slide his cock between your cold thighs and rub it back and forth, rubbing against your panty-clad cunt in the process.

Of course, he knew he wouldn't actually do it, but it wouldn't stop him from fantasizing about it. He slid back from your body slightly, giving himself just enough room to slide his hand into his boxers and pull out his stiff cock, the tip already leaking with pre.

He tried to focus on the curve of your ass in the darkness, wishing you were in a more vulnerable position so he could see your pussy better, but this would have to do. He started stroking his cock slowly, so as to not wake you from the shaking of his arm.

Geto bit his lip to keep himself quiet as he jerked off. Shaky breaths could be heard through the room if one focused enough. Geto reached out slowly to grab your hip, just to feel your skin, to give himself something.

He felt a shock of electricity shoot down to his dick the second he touched you, his lips pressing together to suppress a groan. His hand traveled down further the closer he got to his high. He softly groped your ass, massaging and rubbing the fat there to help him cum quicker.

Your scent was all around him, it was making him dizzy. You were so close, so fucking close, and he couldn't even do anything about it. When he felt himself approach the edge he squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his hand over his cock as he groped you harder, praying you wouldn't wake up right now.

He imagined his hand being your cunt, pulsing and squeezing around his cock as he fucked the both of you towards your orgasms. You would be so loud, crying out for him has he impaled you on his cock. Would you squirt? He bet you would.. he always made you squirt when he fucked you on your side like this.

All he had to do was lift your leg and pull your panties aside and he could slip his cock inside you, finishing himself off deep inside your warm cunt instead of wasting his load in his hand—the load he had wanted to save for you.

He was going to cum so much, and it was going to be so thick he felt bad wasting it like this, but he had no choice. Not when he wanted to cum this bad and he was so close. Absentmindedly, his thumb had slid down to your cunt, and softly pressed it against your clothed hole. When your body shifted forward and you softly grunted in your sleep, that's all he needed to send him over the edge, his orgasm crashing down over him in that moment.

The rush of almost getting caught made him cum ten times harder. His hand retracted from your cunt as he grabbed the tip of his dick, catching his seed in the palm of his hand, careful to not spill any on your bed. He rolled onto his back, still jerking himself off through his orgasm as his body hunched in on itself with the intensity of his orgasm.

He bit his lip hard, nothing but heavy breathing spilling from his nose as he did his best to keep quiet, stroking himself off through the aftershocks of his high. When he started to come down, he let his lip go from the confines of his teeth, sighing heavily into the quiet room.

He was right, his load was so thick and there was so much of it, it really was a shame he had to waste it--he thought as he washed it down the sink, scrubbing his hands clean with your sweet-smelling soap before he crawled back into bed with you.

—

Now it was seven days later, and you had dragged yourself out of bed to grab something to drink, not being able to take lying around in bed anymore. Geto heard the commotion in the kitchen and walked around the corner, watching you standing on your tippy toes, your ass peeking out under his large shirt you wore, the bottom half of your body clad in only a pair of panties.

He swallowed hard at the sight in front of him, reminding himself you were still very much sick as he felt his face heat up while he oggled the soft skin of your ass. "Hey, what are you doin' out of bed?" Geto's voice rang in your clogged ears, his large figure pressing against your back soon after he spoke. "It's okay Sugu, really.. I've been in bed for a week straight I need to move around or I'm going to- *cough* die.." You said, covering your mouth with your arm, your cough shaking Geto's body as he held on to you.

"Still no fever?" Geto asked, moving one of his hands up to press against your forehead, feeling the warm skin. You closed your eyes upon feeling his hand, humming at his touch. "..You're a little warm." He said after a beat, making you sigh. "Sugu I'm fine, really. I'm still pretty exhausted but I feel like I'm slowly getting better." He knew you were telling the truth.

After all, just a couple of days ago you couldn't even stand, and now you were walking around the house all on your own, so you must finally be getting better. "About time." He sighed, burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the skin there. You wrapped your arms around his that held your body, letting him rock you back and forth.

"Someone miss me?" You asked, you giggle getting cut off with a cough. It took Geto a second to realize you weren't talking about him. Your boyfriend groaned into your shoulder, keeping his arms around you but pulling his hips back so his erect cock wasn't poking into your ass. "He's always like that when I see you," Geto replied, mumbling into your neck.

His words made you giggle, "You're so cute. Sorry if I've been making it hard for you. I really should've been more careful, I didnt mean to get sick." You spoke in your hoarse voice. Geto raised his head from your neck, his large hand coming up to grab your face, turning you towards him. "No one means to get sick baby, I've been fine really, don't worry about me." He replied, caressing your cheek.

He pressed his lips to your forehead before he pulled away, grabbing the glass out of your hand to fill up your cup with water. Although his words said otherwise, you had a feeling Geto was having a harder time being abstinent than he led on.

You had been pretty out of it this past week and don't remember much, but you did recall the way Geto had averted his eyes every time they dared to linger on your body. He was constantly pulling your shorts and shirts down to cover your ass, and made a point to choose thicker fabric for the top so he couldn't see your hard nipples through the shirt. They were small details, but you had been living with Geto for a while, you had become observant.

When the dark-haired man turned back around, he was holding your glass of water. He held your waist in his hand and pressed the glass to your fingers, letting go when they wrapped around it. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips press to your forehead once more before his touch was gone altogether. "Get back to your room once you finish that, I'm gonna go.. call Satoru real quick, missed his call earlier." He lied through his teeth.

You nodded, and with that, he walked out of the room. That's when you knew that Geto was having a harder time with this than you thought, as he just lied to you. You weren't mad that he lied to you though, because you could piece together the real reason he escaped to his room—coincidentally right after you had pointed out his boner. He really was a terrible liar.

In any other situation, you would chase him down into his room and take his cock out of his hands, helping him out. But Geto was right, you needed to rest. You felt your fatigue creep up on you the longer you stood in the kitchen, taking small sips of your water.

After placing your glass down by the sink, you dragged your body towards your bedroom, stopping by Geto's on the way there, as you had to pass his room to get to yours at the end of the hall. As discreetly as you could, you pressed your ear against his bedroom, listening for any sounds of Geto getting himself off. You cursed your clogged ears, you couldn't hear anything at all.

Maybe he had already jerked off and gone to sleep? You were too tired to think about it any longer. You hadn't heard anything, so it made you feel a little better. If you had heard him pleasuring himself on the other side of the door, you would've felt a little guilty.

Geto held his palm over his lips, listening for the telltale sound of your door shutting before he let his gasps seep into the room. "Fuck.." He groaned, squeezing his cock at the tip, watching the white pearl of precum beat on the slit of his cock before it dripped down, meeting his fist as he stroked down the length of his cock.

He had heard your footsteps and seen your shadow standing outside the door, reacting quickly, he pressed his hand over his mouth and stopped his jerking in order to not get caught. He was still breathing pretty heavily, but he bet on your awful hearing right now that you wouldn't hear anything, and his gamble had paid off when you walked away soon after, slipping into your room to fall asleep once more.

"All I did was hug you and you got me this hard... fuck..." Geto mumbled under his breath, slipping his hand under his shirt to toy with his nipples while he squeezed his hand over his cock, trying to mimic the squeezing of your pussy. "Shiiiit-" He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet, keeping his ears open to hear if you moved around outside his room.

Geto flicked his fingers over his sensitive nipples, his abs clenching under his hand as he rubbed his thumb on his frenulum, massaging the sensitive spot to get him to his orgasm quicker. He wanted to go join you in your room and cuddle you to sleep, but he was in no shape to do so if he had a massive boner. He didnt need his neglected cock stabbing you in the back for hours on end, that couldn't possibly be comfortable.

seconds turned to minutes, and before he knew it, it had been half an hour and he still had not cum. You would for sure be asleep without him now. Fuck, why couldn't he cum? He was able to cum a couple days ago when you were next to him. Oh. Because you were next to him. Was he not able to cum without you in some way? Fuck, you had ruined him.

He let go of his throbbing cock and searched around his bed for his phone to scroll through pictures of you. The both of you had not yet taken any lewd pictures of each other, but he knew he would have no problem getting off to a picture of you even if you were in a snowsuit ten times bigger than you. He thought you looked like the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen when you were dying in bed all week, he was absolutely enamored with you.

"The fuck?" Geto mumbled, throwing his pillows off his bed in search of his phone. "Oh, you can't be serious." He sighed louder than intended. He had gone into your room roughly an hour before you walked into the kitchen to ask what you wanted for dinner, and he had set his phone down on your bedside table.

Geto rubbed his hands over his face, pulling the skin down dramatically in defeat. His imagination was just not cutting it, how was he supposed to get rid of this annoying boner if he couldn't even see your pretty face? Suddenly a lightbulb went off in his head. Your panties. Of course! Although the two of you were dating, he had made it clear to you that he still took immense joy in stealing your dirty panties and using them to get off. Although he masturbated less and less frequently since he started sleeping with you.

Quickly opening his drawer, he rummaged through the condoms, straw chords, and lighters in his bedside table, searching for your panties. "Come on, come on... fuck." Geto was quickly losing hope the more and more he dug. His drawer wasn't very big, and it wasn't very full, there were only so many corners he could check for the stolen panties.

He looked down to his exposed crotch when he realized your panties were absolutely not in his drawer. He was still hard, how was that even possible? Usually, when he got irritated or annoyed, his boner was killed in an instant, so why was this one sticking around? Geto silently cursed the universe for plaguing him with the opposite of erectile dysfunction, sighing as he grabbed his cock in his hand, slowly stroking his length while he looked at the ceiling, searching the crevasses in the walls for ideas.

After a good five minutes of sadly playing with his cock while trying to brainstorm ways to cum, he came to one conclusion. He had to get into your room to steal his phone back. With a sigh, he pulled his boxers on and slipped his grey sweats on over them, cringing at the obvious tent in his pants.

He pulled on his baggiest shirt and still, his cock could be seen through the fabric. Geto posed in front of the mirror, trying to gauge if it was all that obvious. Okay, say you are awake and he walks in with his hard cock poking out like a sore thumb. If he stood at this angle... under this lighting.. or maybe this angle? Yeah yeah.. this one.. you could barely see it.

Geto posed randomly in his full-length mirror, snapping back to reality when he realized he was hunched over with one leg sticking out in the most embarrassing and non-natural pose he could muster. "Fuck.. It's okay, it's just be in and out." He said out loud to himself in the mirror, standing up straight as he hyped himself up before he walked to his door and turned the knob, heading for your room.

—

It was not okay, nothing was okay. Nothing was more not okay than this. Geto stood in your doorway, watching with a saliva-filled mouth as you lay on your stomach, one knee bent, the leg curled up towards your head, your other straight pointed toward the end of the bed, giving Geto the most perfect view of your plump cunt pressing against your panties.

Geto closed his mouth, swallowing hard as his eyes zeroed in on your cunt. The light that shone through your room from the hallway illuminated your body perfectly, your skin almost glowing from the LEDs. Your panties were so thin they were allowing Geto to see everything. He could see your little slit and a small bump near the top of your pussy where your little clit was.

He palmed himself over his slacks, forgetting the reason why he came in here in the first place. He wrapped his hands over his cock through his slacks, jerking himself off, his damp boxers feeling strangely good on his sensitive length. He watched you shift slightly in your sleep, your leg raising itself higher, giving him an even better view of your cunt if possible.

He felt himself drip into his boxers, looking down he could make out a dark patch of cum seeping through on the front of his pants. Geto couldn't take it anymore, he was so hard, his cock and balls were aching for release, and you were right in front of him. Releasing his dick from his grip, he walked toward you and sat down on the side of your bed, rubbing your lower back and ass softly, trying to slowly wake you up.

He felt himself cringe when you moaned, your body stretching as you stared awake, your eyes cracking open. The headache you had been dealing with for days was still present, but a lot less intense, the water must've done its job while you slept.

As your eyes started to come into focus, the blurriness fading from them, you turned your body around, lying on your back. Geto's hand stayed on your body, his hand now rubbing your upper thigh, right next to your cunt. He tried to control himself at least long enough to explain what was going on, he didnt want to freak you out by pouncing on you while you weren't fully there.

"Sugu?" Your hoarse voice whispered, your hand landing on his bent knee as he faced you on the bed, a forced smile on his face. "Hi baby, I'm so sorry to wake you." He said genuinely. He felt his cock throb in his pants as your warm hand rubbed circles on his kneecap while you woke up fully. "'s okay Sugu.. 's everything okay?" You asked, your half-open eyes staring at him.

Geto decided he had waited long enough. You were forming coherent sentences--albeit slurred ones-- but you knew who he was and had registered his words, which was good enough for him. He slowly slotted himself between your thighs, sliding your legs over his large thighs and around his waist.

"Need you baby.." His deep voice whispered needily, his large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants while the other continued rubbing your soft thigh. A sudden warmth of arousal washed over you as your sleep-filled eyes dropped down to watch him palm his obviously hard cock. "I cant cum without you, been tryin' for so long, it hurts baby." He whispered, his eyes flitting between your cunt and your pretty flushed face.

"Sugu..." You whined softly, feeling yourself start to grow wetter the longer you watched him. "Don't need much baby, you can.. ngh- you can even go back to sleep if you want.." Geto said, reaching into his boxers he pulled out his cock, exposing his angry length to your eyes. "Just.. just need to see your little pussy, that's all." He finished.

Once he had his cock in his hand, he used the other to pull your panties down your thighs, exposing your twitching cunt to his hungry eyes. You blushed, watching silently with an open mouth as he pulled the cloth away from your body. "Oh fuck." He groaned. "Such a pretty fucking cunt."

Geto abandoned his hand on his cock for a second to slide help you bend your knees, sliding your panties completely off your body, keeping them in his hand. Your boyfriend shook his head as he stared at your cunt, which unbeknownst to him was getting wetter and wetter by the second.

"W-wait." You voiced when you watched Geto lift your panties up to his face. He paused his actions, smirking at you, his face full of lust. "I've teased you plenty, but you've never actually seen me use your panties, have you?" He asked, to which you shook your head, placing your hands over your face in embarrassment, peeking at him through your fingers.

"Sugu don't, they're d-dirty." You said, the heartbeat in your pussy increasing despite your words. "I know." He replied, pressing them against his nose. Your eyebrows furrowed, a dark blush spreading over your face as you watched Geto's eyes roll back in his head as he sniffed your panties, taking in the scent of your cunt. "Ohmygodd-" He groaned, jerking his cock faster as he felt a wave of arousal flood his pelvis.

"Baby you smell so good oh fuck- needed this- n-needed you." He groaned shamelessly. A drip of pre-cum dripped from the tip of his cock, landing between you on your sheets. You whimpered watching Suguru put on his little show for you, not daring to move your hands away from your face.

"You embarassed cutie?" Geto teased, bringing the panties away from his face to find the part that presses against your folds before he held it up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you while keeping his lidded eyes glued to yours. "You're so filthy.." You mumbled behind your hands.

Geto heard you loud and clear, his cock twitching in interest. "Hmm? What was that?" He asked, handing off the panties to his other hand as he wrapped the cloth around his cock, jerking off with it while his other came back to caress your upper thigh. "I- I said you're filthy." You said a little louder, watching him use the panties you had on seconds ago to masturbate with.

"And you love it don't you? Can see your pussy throbbing while you watch me use 'ur dirty panties to touch myself." He said, tipping his head to the side to allow the light in the hallway to seep past him and illuminate your wet cunt, allowing him a better view of his favorite sight.

"Fuck.. this is doing it for me baby, thank you, thank you so much." Geto babbled, watching your cunt throb under his intense gaze. "You really only need to look at um.. at it?" You said, dropping your hands from your face, and resting them on your chest. "Yeah.. fuck- can feel myself gettin' real close just from lookin' at your pretty pussy."

You moaned at his words, watching the tip of his dick drip more and more precut onto the sheets. "Can you.. maybe touch me a little?" You ask hesitantly, not wanting to push your body too far. "'s that okay?" He asked, his hand already making its way to your inner thigh, teasing the skin there. "Gently, I'm just feeling a little.." You let your words trail off, looking away from him.

Geto had to slow his hand down so he didnt cum too soon. Who knew you could be so cute when you were sick? He was used to you being demanding and assertive, clearly being sick took you down a notch. "You feelin' a little needy down there, hmm?" Geto finished for you, his thumb spreading your folds open, exposing the slick that resided inside your walls.

Geto smirked when you nodded, his cock twitching in response to seeing you so wet. "Want me to rub your clit? I'll be gentle." Geto asked sweetly, dipping his thumb into the entrance of your pussy, gathering some of the wetness on his thumb while he waited for your response. You nodded before speaking softly, "I'm not going to last long so don't make fun of me.." You admitted, feeling like you were already going to cum without him even touching you.

"Yeah?" Geto teased, his fingers splaying out on your pelvis as his thumb came down to rub small circles against your clit at the perfect pace and pressure. "Gonna cum real fast for me?" He continued, knowing how worked up you got from his words.

Now that he was actually touching you, he really had to be careful that he didnt blow his load too soon, his hand gripping himself at the base as he staved off his orgasm. You nodded, your hand coming down to weakly grab his wrist, your other arm covering your mouth as you coughed weakly into your arm. "You okay? 's it too much?" He asked, slowing his thumb on your swollen bud.

You felt yourself clench around nothing at the change of pace. You gripped his wrist a little harder, urging him to continue. "N-no *cough* Please don't stop." You begged, looking into his eyes. Geto picked up his pace on himself once more when he felt his orgasm fade a safe distance away, still being careful to be mindful of how close he was.

"You're so cute baby, so fucking cute." He praised, picking up the speed of his thumb on your clit, making your back arch, your eyes rolling back in your head as your chin tipped towards the ceiling, your head relaxing onto the soft pillow as Geto got you off. He dipped his thumb down to your entrance once more, collecting some more of your slick before he brought it back up to your clit, smiling at the little wet sounds it created.

Your soft whimpers started picking up in volume, your body squirming more against the sheets, which Geto noticed. "You getting close baby?" Geto asked, looking down at his own cock as he smeared his precut on your panties before wrapping the fabric back over his cock and jerking off with it, picking up his pace.

"Yeah.. feel it coming Sugu." You whispered, keeping your eyes shut as you relaxed into the bed, letting Geto do all of the work. "Good, good girl baby. Doing so well letting me get us off like this. 'S it feel good? You like it when I rub your clit?" Geto spoke softly, using his words to bring your to your orgasm.

"Y-yeah, feels s-so good Sugu.. always *cough* make me feel so good." You choked on your words a bit, trying to breathe through the pleasure so you didnt fall into a coughing fit.

Geto felt his orgasm rapidly approaching, but he needed you to cum first. He needed both of his hands to do what he wnated to do when he came. "That's right, just relax baby, let me take care of you, let me make you cum." He whispered, biting his lip when he felt your legs squeeze his waist, your hand gripping his wrist harder. "O-oh Sugu- I'm cumming I-I'm cumming-" You whimpered, your head thrashing against the pillow as your back arched with your pleasure, your eyebrows screwing together.

"'M right here, cum for me baby, yesyes- ohhhh fuck- yesss, that's right baby let it all out." Geto huffed out a laugh, speaking through his teeth as his thumb kept rubbing over your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. He felt his balls tighten with his impending release when your arousal dripped from your hole, sliding down your ass. "Fuck, good job baby, good fucking girl." Geto praised, pulling his thumb back when he felt you push him away, being careful to not overstimulate you right now.

Your body twitched as you came down from your high, your eyes screwing open as your vision focused on the ceiling above you. Your view was slightly blurry from how sleeping cumming had made you, it took a lot more out of you than you had expected, even only playing with your clit.

Geto's voice brought you back to reality, your sleepy eyes slowly looking down at him, your chin tipping down in tandem as you looked at him. "Watch me, baby, need you to watch me while I cum in your panties."

His unexpected words made you feel hot all over, another gush of arousal leaking from your cunt. Geto tipped his head back, the light behind him illuminating his hair and his impressive frame, making him appear as if he was glowing.

You watched his jaw fall open as moans spilled from his lips, finding their way into your ears. Geto's hand over his cock looked blurry, save for the black fabric that was being yanked over his length as he worked himself up to his orgasm.

"Fuck- fuck-" Geto's back arched, his breath coming out in small gasps and pants as he was brought to the edge. His chin tipped down as he ripped your panties off of his cock with his free hand, his fingers quickly finding the part that cradles your cunt as he held it out right in front of his cock, stroking himself rapidly.

"Cumming- cum- fuck-" Geto grit through his teeth before the first rope of his cum shot out and landed on the crotch of your panties. You watched with tired eyes as he came all over the fabric, defiling it with his thick cum. "Nghhhh-" He groaned as he jerked himself off through his high, making sure every rope of his hot cum landed on your panties.

You fought the sleep from your brain as you watched him. He looked so pretty with his flushed face and slack jaw as he rode through the aftershocks of his orgasm, rubbing the tip of his cock on your panties to clean it off. Geto's eyes looked up to your own, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm.

He smiled watching your sleepy eyes flutter, trying to stay open. Balling up the defiled panties, he threw them somewhere on your floor before he rubbed your thigh with his big hand soothingly, smiling at your face softly. "I'll clean you up, go to sleep baby, did so well for me, I love you. These were the last words you heard from your sweet boyfriend before you drifted off into dreamland.

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winterarmyy · 11 months ago

Text

Kiss It Better

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--

Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point). And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that she must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.

She can't.

So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.

Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.

Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find an answer to a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.

He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind.

When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again.

Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.

Most of his senses are enhanced after all.

So, why was she avoiding it?

Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.

Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.

Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.

He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.

Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.

He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.

As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.

The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"

He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn. Nothing compares.

A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.

The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.

So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.

She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"

She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.

Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling." He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.

The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.

Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.

She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.

Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.

His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.

"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.

When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.

She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.

Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."

Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.

She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.

Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.

Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.

"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.

He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.

She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.

Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"

Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.

"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.

Realizing what she just had just done, she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"

Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."

She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"

Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.

She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.

The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.

Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice, he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."

Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.

But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.

The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face, "You..." he rasped.

Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"

He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.

"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.

Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"

She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."

That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper. "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.

He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.

Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.

And then he does it again and again.

Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.

With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.

"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.

And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.

Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.

Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.

"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"

He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly. She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.

Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.

And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.

So sweet and warm and addictive.

While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.

Yet he was still hungry.

She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky smut #bucky fluff #avenger!bucky #bucky x reader smut

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osarina · 3 months ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 WASTELAND, BABY (I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: at the beach house, you can pretend that nothing is wrong. you know that avoidance will only get you so far, but you can't help but want to treasure the time you have with dazai... you don't know how much longer you'll have before everything catches up to you. until then, you'll enjoy the peace that you have, even if dazai does seem oddly intent on ruining it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: another week of minimal activity </3 sorry lil love bugs ive been so busy. BUT take civzai6!! and treasure it because this is the only chill chapter for quite a bit!! HAHAHHH no but for real i enjoyed this chapter so much that i literally had to split it in two because i wrote too much HAHAH, same goes for the next chapter ;) as always, reblogs are very appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from the other series - if you guys read waterloo, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole chapter just because there's 2-3k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the FINAL scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in waterloo, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. dazai has some insecure thoughts. he's also actively being self destructive. this is an easy chapter—calm before the storm. not much to warn. i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, praise, dazai cries a bit, lil bit of body worship (f->m), sub!dazai, mostly pretty vanilla - short and sweet

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Dazai wakes up to the sun peeking through the blinds of the bedroom he’d shared with you and the scent of pancakes wafting through the air. His lips twitch up into a small smile as he stretches, letting out a soft sigh as he sinks into the comfortable mattress.

He thinks he slept better last night than he’s slept in his entire life. He’s always been plagued with restlessness, he can hardly ever sleep and when he does, he’s haunted by faces he’d rather not see again: Oda’s bloodstained face looking up at him as he dies in Dazai’s arms, the glassy eyes of his mother as she swings slowly from a rope, his aunt’s twisted expression as she throws Dazai to the ground in Suribachi, the hurt look in Ango’s eyes as he took all of the vile insults that Dazai spat at him. Dazai dreads sleeping about as much as the average person dreads ever having to confront their worst fear.

But last night? Last night, Dazai slept peacefully. He fell asleep curled up in your arms, laying on top of you—you’d still been awake, tracing patterns on his back through his shirt. You’d been distracted by something all day yesterday; from when you picked him up at the hospital to when you laid down with him in bed that night, something had been bothering you. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop, call after call and text after text—you didn’t bother checking it but he could tell it was stressing you out.

He tried to ask you about it but you blew it off every time. Dazai supposes he should have expected that from you but your evasion was still irritating, especially after the conversation the two of you had yesterday. You had the nerve to try to distract him with movies and figuring out how to bake a cake with him; he had the nerve to fall for the weak attempts at distracting him.

He yawns as he pushes himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes and tossing the blankets off. He tugs at the short sleeves of his t-shirt, feeling a bit too exposed. The bandages covering his wrists and arms are frayed—he’ll need to grab new ones to rewrap them soon, he hasn’t checked the bathroom to see if you had any stored. His shoulders ache a bit, he winces as he rolls them before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.

You’re standing at the stove, hand on your hip as you frown down at whatever you’re cooking. You’re still dressed in your pajamas—a thin black cami and loose shorts—and Dazai yearns, he feels it deep in his chest, feels it as a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his stomach. Because he could… he could picture it… he could picture a future with you.

He could imagine waking up to you every day—you’d always wake up before him because you somehow always wake up at the ass crack of dawn. You’d usually be dealing with some of your shady business when he wakes up, sitting at the kitchen table typing away at your phone, maybe you’d sometimes be on calls and you’d lift a finger to your lips to hush him when you realize he wakes up. Every once in a while, he’d wake up to you making breakfast for him—you told him that you enjoy cooking when you have the time for it, so Dazai imagines that it would be a rare treat.

Like today.

But still, he can’t help but wonder why today? Your phone had been blowing up last night and now… now, it’s sitting on the marble counter, screen dark and not buzzing at all. He glances up at you once to make sure you’re still looking at the stove and then shifts over to the counter quietly, discreetly pressing his finger against the screen to see if your phone is even on and then frowns when he realizes that you did, in fact, turn it off.

What is going on that has you so avoidant that you’d rather turn your phone off than confront it? His mind races to all of the things you’ve been bitching to him about, remembers that you told him you weren’t responding for days because you’d been busy finishing up negotiations with the Shimazaki-kai… is it something new, maybe? But why aren’t you handling it then? It doesn’t make any sense.

Dazai makes his way over to you, feet padding softly against the ground until he’s standing behind you. He slips his arms around your waist and plops his chin onto your shoulder, humming softly as he nudges his nose against your ear before resting the side of his head against yours.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still a bit rough with sleep. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes,” you reply easily and Dazai’s heart swells when you lean back into his chest, fueling the fantasy of his imagined future even more. God, he’s been waiting for the ball to drop since you talked to him out on the cliff’s edge—you can’t keep giving him hope like this, he can feel it blooming in his chest and he knows that there’s going to be something to ruin it because that’s just how his life goes but… “I don’t think they came out good though.”

“I’ll eat them anyway,” Dazai says immediately.

“You’ll probably get food poisoning.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

You do.

Two words, so simple and yet they ring through his head over and over again so loudly. You care. You do care. You implied it last night when you told him you wanted him, that it scares you how bad you want him because of his life being at risk, but you hadn’t out right said it until now and it’s a devastating blow. Fatal, really.

The puff of air he lets out is shaky and when you turn to look at him, confused, he can only barely muster a smile as he asks hesitantly, “You do?”

The last time he asked you this, you changed the subject and evaded answering—he took it as an answer in itself, that you don’t care… but now, he’s let himself hope again, hope that maybe this time your answer will be different. What a treacherous thing, really, because even now he can feel the dark claws of anxiety start tugging at his heart in different directions, yanking it around and stretching it until it’s painful. He thinks it would’ve just been easier to carve it out and hand it over to you.

“I do,” you finally say, voice quiet. “I care.”

Dazai lets out a long breath, one that he hardly recognized he was holding, dropping his forehead down on your shoulder to hide his face against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist as his lips curve up, he presses his lips to your neck but for some reason, he can’t fully discard the dreadful feeling in his chest.

Even with your assurances and finally verbally admitting that you care about him, it’s like he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to shatter his idyllic paradise. And he has a feeling he knows exactly what will do it. So because Dazai is Dazai and he has been self-destructive since the day he was born, he brings it up.

“Why’s your phone been blowing up?” he asks, keeping his voice deceptively light like he’s just trying to have a normal conversation with you—you don’t fall for it. When you immediately stiffen in his arms, Dazai almost wants to backtrack.

“Nothing important,” you say, voice tight, forcing a smile onto your face as you step away to look up at him. “Nothing to worry about. Want to help me remake the pancakes?”

You use the same tactic Dazai used on you after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment. You’re good too because even though Dazai knows what you’re doing, he still wants to give in. Wants to play domestic with you, make breakfast together and then sit at the table and eat. But he can’t, so while you’re good at using the same tactic that Dazai used against you, you’re ultimately unsuccessful because he doesn’t show you the same grace that you showed him.

“Tell me anyway?” Dazai asks softly. “Even if it’s not important?”

You stare at Dazai for a moment, your lips pressed together and he could imagine the thoughts running through your head—how he’s never satisfied, and how he always has to push you. He can imagine you voicing it again, telling him how it’s always what he wants, but you don’t.

Instead, you shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stressing me out. I would rather just make breakfast with you,” you say.

Your voice becomes a bit more tense and Dazai knows that he should stop pushing, that it would be smart to stop now, but Dazai’s track record for dumb decisions gets longer instead.

“Maybe I can help,” he prods, taking a step closer to you, reaching out to rest his hands faintly on your hips. He nudges his head forward, pushing his nose against yours before smiling softly and pressing his lips to yours. “Tell me, please.”

Let me in.

Dazai’s eyes are big and earnest as he stares down at you, fingers digging just the slightest bit further into your hips. Your expression is unrelenting, much to his distress.

“It’s mafia business,” you finally say.

“You’ve told me about mafia business before.”

You exhale sharply, brushing his hands off of you and taking a step away, and Dazai knows he’s pressing too much—doesn’t even know why he’s pressing because he knows that it’ll shatter the illusion of peace that the past half a day in the beach house has given him.

Maybe that’s what he wants, for it to be ruined before he can get used to it.

You look out the window and don’t speak for a moment. Dazai itches to move closer to you again but his feet are rooted to the ground. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall forward a bit, shaking it as you turn back around to face him.

“Another organization has arrived in Yokohama,” you say, lifting your eyes to meet his. “A dangerous one. The Port Mafia… the executives are meeting to figure out how to handle the situation.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment. “You’re an executive.”

“I am.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“But… why?” Dazai asks, voice hitching at the implications of it, not wanting to get his hopes up but unable to stop himself from it at the same time. “Why are you here?”

You stare at him silently for a moment and then you say quietly, “The call for the meeting came at the same time I got the voicemail from the hospital. I chose to go to you.”

Dazai’s breath catches as he breathes in and shakes terribly as he breathes out, unable to draw his gaze away from you. You… “You chose me,” he whispers.

“I chose you,” you repeat, swallowing as you turn your gaze down. “I did. I chose you.”

“Do you regret it?” Dazai asks softly—he wonders if he hopes you’ll say yes, that you’ll quash his hope before it’s too late.

“No,” you say. “I don’t.”

And Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s never been wanted before. Never been someone’s first choice. Dazai has always been the one left behind for others, discarded for a better option. His throat is uncomfortably tight and his fingers are shaking a bit, and he doesn’t have pockets to hide them in now so they’re in full view of your vision before he clasps his hands behind his back.

But it’s too late—you’ve already seen it and you’re taking a step closer to him. You reach out to cup his cheek with one of your hands and Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch.

“I don’t regret anything about you, Dazai Osamu,” you say quietly, so honestly that it makes a shiver run down Dazai’s spine, unintentionally letting out a soft noise in the back of his throat that he’s unable to smother. “Not a single thing.”

“Well, that can’t possibly be true,” Dazai tries to joke, to play off how much you’ve rattled him with only a few words, but you aren’t fooled by his tricks.

“It’s true.”

Dazai stares at you, his eyes sting and his fingers are shaking even more than they’d been before. The pads of your fingers burn against his cheek and Dazai thinks you’ve ruined him. You’ve ruined him entirely. You’ve shattered all of his carefully crafted walls, the ones that protect him from situations just like this, the ones that prevent him from being burned just like he has countless times before. You’ve ruined him and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself together again if this ends poorly.

He doesn’t know what to say in response to your words and he can’t handle the way you’re staring at him so intensely, so Dazai decides to change the subject with a shaky smile and a terrifying amount of hope blooming within him.

“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes. Tell me about this organization, I can try to help.”

You don’t even know why you’re considering this.

Dazai bounds next to you in the sand chatting about his poetry workship. He still won’t tell you what the project he’s writing on is about but he does seem to be mighty pleased with how it’s coming out since he’s bragging about how his is clearly the best of all of his classmates’ and that he’s sure he’s going to get the best grade on it. It’s cute, you think, a fond smile twitching to the corner of your lips as you watch him from the corner of your eye.

It’s still only mid-morning, the sun paints a pretty glow over the private beach and Dazai looks so… alive beneath it. His smile is bright and genuine, skin flushed and radiant, eyes reminiscent of pools of honey—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so bright before. His fingers thrum excitedly against the book he’s bringing down to the beach with him: The Aeneid—he’s read it before, he very snootily told you when you side-eyed him for grabbing it, he just needs to refresh on it for his creative writing class.

When the two of you get down to the shore, you sit down in the sand right near the water’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. Dazai plops down next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours and you itch to wrap your arm around his waist, slide your hand under the comfy sweatshirt he’s wearing to rub circles over the bandages covering his skin, but your hands stay stiff in your lap as you stare down at the phone resting on your lap.

You have half a mind to toss it right into the bay.

But then Dazai nudges you, waiting for you to start talking, and you sigh, looking back across the bay.

“They call themselves the Guild,” you finally say. You can feel Dazai’s eyes on you, curious, and you think maybe you should quit while you’re ahead but you find yourself speaking anyway. “They’re a kind of… secret society. Based in North America. They’re powerful. A lot of influence throughout the world.”

“Why are they here?” Dazai asks and you can feel the way his face twists as he then adds, “More influence than you?”

You can’t help the amused smile that twitches to your lips at his words. “I’m not the end all of political influence, Dazai,” you tell him, the tension in your shoulders slipping away as you tilt your head to the side to look at him

Dazai gives you a look. “Please, I was at that event. I heard the way people talked about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the most influential person in Japan.”

“Probably the eastern hemisphere,” you correct, quite humbly, snorting as Dazai rolls his eyes. “No, I’m kidding. I have a lot of influence but there are plenty with more than me, especially considering I’m held back by the fact that I can’t make myself a public figure. Having to perpetually work behind the scenes is pretty… crippling.”

“You go to the big government events though,” Dazai frowns. “Those are-”

“Very, very confidential unless certain cockroaches worm their way in and feed information to the public,” you say dryly, watching as Dazai gives you an offended look.

“Did you just call me a cockroach?”

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug.

“My bella hates me,” Dazai sighs whimsically, dropping his head on your shoulder. “She thinks I’m a bug. A cockroach.”

You soften when he comes in contact with you, lifting your hand to cradle the side of his head. Your lips curl up into a small smile when Dazai’s lashes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. You brush your fingers through his hair, choosing your words carefully as you continue to explain what’s going on in spite of your better judgment.

“Anyway, they have more influence than me. I’ve been working all night trying to figure out what to do, pulled as many strings as I can trying to get the government to push them out of Yokohama but they’ve eaten their way right into the heart of Japan. They’ve been granted diplomatic immunity and they’re putting pressure on the government to try to get us—the Port Mafia—and some government agencies that are protesting the invasion of the city to back off. They’re trying to get their hands on a skilled business permit, we don’t know why but…”

“But you have suspicions,” Dazai finishes for you, sitting up straight again to watch you, ever perceptive. “Right?”

You don't respond for a moment as you watch him carefully. Dazai has always been perceptive—you’ve noticed it from early on when you would talk around the truth and he would train that sharp gaze on you, knowing that you were skirting around something but unable to figure out what.

Honestly, it should be concerning. Dazai’s smarter than almost anyone you’ve ever met. He’s sharp and quick—proved it with the way he managed to get his hands on the tapes behind the Tokyo City Hall to get evidence of your mafia affiliation; even proved it before that when he recognized that he had to go about information gathering in a different manner, trying to pin down your political opinions because he knew which sectors supported which opinion and wanted to know which one you were a part of.

“Does it have something to do with me?”

“You’re so conceited, not everything has to do with you.”

Dazai flushes red, scowling at you and physically turning his back to you. “Well forgive me for assuming because you’ve certainly been acting like everything has to do with me.”

You smile as Dazai huffs shifting closer to press your lips against the nape of his neck, arms slipping around his waist. He gives you a dirty look but relaxes back into your chest, leaning into you. You slip your hands beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing them out over the bandages covering his slim torso, feeling the way his breath hitches at your touch.

“They’re here because of something I did,” you finally admit quietly, ignoring as he looks up at you curiously. “One of the boys you met when you came to my apartment the first time… they had a bounty on the black market on him for seven billion yen.”

Dazai chokes, splutters over air as he looks up at you and squeaks out, “Seven billion-why?”

“We don’t know,” you say honestly. “I… didn’t think it was a good sign that they were putting so high of a bounty on a seemingly random ability user. It made me think there was more to it than meets the eye, that it would be… dangerous for us to hand him over to the Guild.”

Dazai’s brows furrow as he nods. “I mean, it makes sense. That much money for a what? Eighteen year old kid? Is his ability special?”

“He can turn into a tiger,” you tell him. “Can’t even control it.”

Dazai sits back up straight again, holding his book in his lap as he turns to face you, crossing his legs together. You feel a bit of fondness bubbling in your chest when you see how quickly he seems to be thinking, you can all but see the gears running swiftly behind his dark eyes.

“Is he the tiger? Is the tiger something of its own sentience? I did a research project on ability users two years ago, mostly I was just reading the studies of how they’re dragged into criminal organizations at a young age, but some of them talked about how some ability users can’t even control their ability because it’s like… a separate consciousness. Maybe it knows something? Or there are parts of his ability that he hasn’t been able to unlock yet?”

Is it sentient? Atsushi hadn’t made any mention of it and you hadn’t thought to ask. It wouldn’t be… unheard of. Dazai is right in that there’s been a record of ability users who claim that their abilities have a consciousness of their own. There’s a member of the SDUP, a higher up in the Family who you met a few years back, and even Chuuya. Arahabaki is its own sentient being within Chuuya, could that be why Atsushi can’t control his ability? You don’t know, you hadn’t really considered it but it’s definitely a possibility, and it would explain the Guild’s desperation to get their hands on him.

“Either way, I mean, I think you were definitely right to keep him close,” Dazai shrugs. “They clearly want him badly for a reason and since it’s not one that can be seen at face value, who knows what it could be.”

“I wish you had been at the meeting where I had to argue with all of them about it,” you say bitterly, still irritated over the hours you spent arguing with the other executives, who were dead set on getting the money from the bounty.

Dazai tilts his head to the side, an unreadable look crossing his face for a second but then he shakes his head and asks, “So political pressure isn’t working?”

“No. I mean, they don’t want the Americans here anymore than any of us but they don’t have a choice. After you fell asleep, I spent most of the night on the phone with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, talked to the US ambassador in Tokyo and asked our ambassador in the US to try to work with their government to get the Guild out of Japan. Got nowhere with it. If something could’ve been done politically to force them out of here, I would’ve gotten it done.”

You even called Tolstoy last night. You don’t like going to outsiders about domestic problems but you feel as if you’re backed into a corner—it’s your fault that the Guild is here and you can’t even do anything to fix it. And now-and now Dazai is at risk too. You have half a mind to keep him locked up in this beach house until you can figure everything out but you doubt that he’d stay in one place and he’s better off at your side than on his own.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head—or maybe not, he probably knows exactly how stressed you are about this. You’ve never been without your phone and you know you’re making a mistake by turning it off now but you just can’t bring yourself to turn it on, dreading whatever messages you might find. Chuuya’s rage at your disappearance, Kouyou’s disapproval and worst of all, Mori’s disappointment.

He would know where you are. Who you’re with. Why you disappeared and why you were unable to fix this before it became a major problem for the Mafia. He promised not to intervene if it didn’t affect Port Mafia business and you let it anyway. You ran to Dazai when you should have gone to the meeting and you can’t even bring yourself to regret it even when you know that you put him in danger, not just from your enemies but also from-

You feel Dazai’s hand brush your cheek as he reaches out, brows knit in concern as he looks at you and you realize that your breath has quickened noticeably, shallow and uneven. You try to calm yourself down but it only makes your heart rate spike more because you can’t figure out why you’re unable to get yourself under control.

“Hey,” Dazai says quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, but he sounds like he’s underwater. Or you’re underwater. Something isn’t right—you know what isn’t right, you know what’s happening but you can’t stop it. “Hey, it’s okay-”

It’s not okay. It’s very much not okay. Your fingers dig into the sand, the small grains getting stuck beneath your fingernails as you try to physically ground yourself. You never should have started talking about this with him—you’d known it was going to force you to confront everything you’ve been avoiding the past few hours, your failure and incapability but he asked you and you couldn’t-

You couldn’t say no.

You need to-

“You need to make them want to go back.”

You’re so caught off guard by Dazai’s words that it startles you right out of your spiral. Your gaze focuses on him and you watch as he starts to light up, excited. His hands drop to your wrists, holding them gently as he urges you to pay attention to him.

“You need to make them want to go back,” he repeats, faster this time. “You can’t force them, so you have to make them choose to go on their own.”

You shake your head, still unsteady from your sudden bout of panic. You briefly shut your eyes and then say quietly, “Dazai, that’s a lot easier said than done. How-”

“The best defense is a good offense,” Dazai quotes at you, nearly vibrating. “Counterattack, do something to make them have to go back to America.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” you voice out loud, little over a breath. “Oh my god. Octavio.”

“Who?” Dazai blinks, staring at you as you fumble to turn your phone back on.

“Octavio Paz,” you say hurriedly, willing your phone to turn back on. “He’s the leader of one of Mexico’s biggest cartels, has been trying to expand his foothold into the central parts of the US for years but one of the Guild members—Twain, maybe, Steinbeck, one of them—they always prevented it. If I can get him to do something now-”

You’re stupid, you’re so stupid for not thinking of this sooner. Mori has always taught you it—the one that strikes the first blow wins the battle—you should’ve had Octavio Paz making movements in the US as soon as you decided to keep Atsushi with the Port Mafia. As soon as you were considering keeping Atsushi with the Port Mafia. You were stupid and you let the Guild make the opening move of the game, and now it could cost you.

But if you can act fast enough then maybe…

As your phone finally starts to turn on, you look back up at Dazai.

“I could kiss you,” you breathe out, watching his face light up at your approval.

You almost find yourself a bit suspicious of how quickly he came to this conclusion, how naturally this thought process seemed to come to him. You had been struggling trying to figure out what to do and you have over a decade of experience now—you were too focused on the fact that they were already here, so focused on the defense that you were scrambling and blinded to the prospect of an offense. And yes, it might’ve just been stupidity on your part—stupidity and carelessness, that is—but Dazai is a twenty-two year old literature student, how the hell was he able to figure it out in a span of a handful of minutes while you’ve been so lost?

“What’s stopping you?” Dazai prods, leaning forward.

His eyes are wide and imploring, a warm golden color beneath the rays of the sun; his lips are curved up into a sweet smile and you let all of your suspicions wash away. You reach forward to cup his cheek, watching as he immediately presses his face into your hand, eyes sliding shut as he brushes his lips to your palm before looking back up at you, expectant.

You lean in and graze your lips against his but just as you consider deepening the kiss, you notice that your phone screen has finally flickered on, so you lean back, not catching the way Dazai’s face instantly falls.

“I’m going to go make a few calls—I have to head back to the house to grab my laptop. You want to come in or stay out here for a bit?” you ask absently as you rise to your feet.

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit,” he says quietly. “Hopefully everything works out.”

You don’t respond as you make your way up the beach back to the house, wincing as you see a spam of nearly forty messages from Chuuya, a dozen from Piano Man, and a handful from Kouyou come in.

Worse, there’s not a single message or missed call from Mori.

A few hours later, you’re sitting with Dazai on the couch in the beach house watching a movie. He’s resting back against your chest, your arms loose around his waist—you think he’s falling asleep actually, every time you look down, his eyes are drooping shut but then snap back open whenever he realizes that you’re looking down at him.

You’re being spammed with calls again now that your phone is back on—both Chuuya and Piano Man have been calling and texting incessantly. You think they’re taking turns, honestly, when one isn’t calling, the other is. You had to put their numbers on do not disturb but you did reach out to Klaus and Akutagawa, giving them quick orders to do what they can to fuck with the Guild.

Now, you’re waiting for a text from Paz to confirm he’s made the necessary movements into the central parts of the US—you had to redirect a weapons shipment from South America up to Paz and his men, so you have to compensate for that with Machado down in Brazil, but he’s always been easily appeased. You’ll just have to take a trip down there some time soon to wine and dine him as an apology.

As soon as you get the confirmation from him, you can put your phone away and just spend the night relaxing with Dazai. Maybe try to figure out what’s going on in this movie. Honestly, neither of you are even really watching the movie so you don’t even know why it’s playing but it’s nice background noise at the very least.

“Can I ask you something?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments, playing with your fingers and tilting his head up against your shoulder to look at you.

“You have no idea how much I dread those words coming from you,” you say dryly. “Go ahead. Ask.”

Dazai pouts at your words but there’s a serious look in his eyes that has you on edge, a bit concerned to what he might want to ask you.

“What did Chuuya mean the other night?” Dazai asks after a few moments, as if trying to figure out how he wants to phrase his question. When you only give him a confused look in return, he adds on, “He said that you couldn’t save someone last time. That this time wouldn’t be any different.”

Immediately, you stiffen and Dazai straightens up from where he’s sitting to turn to look at you, concerned. “I don’t-” you start to say, voice strained and tongue heavy in your mouth. “I-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Dazai tells you, seemingly a bit taken aback by how you’re struggling for words. “It’s okay. I was just wondering.”

You think you should take the out given to you because even just the thought of talking about what happened two years ago with Chuuya and his girl and the Serpent’s Tongue. Even after all of the time that’s passed, the image of Chuuya hunched over her body is still burned behind your eyelids. You still wake up gasping and sweaty with the sound of Chuuya’s screams still ringing through your ears. There are still days where the guilt of what happened is so crushing that you can hardly breathe.

“Chuuya… he was dating a civilian two years ago,” you find yourself speaking instead but your voice sounds distant, like you’re not talking but instead listening to someone else talk. You don’t even register that your lips are moving, they feel numb and prickly but the words tumble from your lips. “She was our age, a year older maybe. In her third year of university, on track for med school—I think she went to YNU actually. She wanted to be a doctor. I only met her a few times, but Chuuya never shut up about her, would brag about her to anyone who would listen.”

You sit up straight, smoothing your hands up and down against the skin of your thighs a few times anxiously. Your tongue feels weighted, you can hardly bring yourself to continue; you don’t want to continue so you don’t know why you’re trying to force yourself. Dazai’s gaze is so intense that you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, you keep your eyes trained on your lap even as he reaches out to entwine his fingers with yours.

“How did they meet?” Dazai prods curiously, purposely trying to steer the conversation to a lighter topic when he hears the way your voice wavers.

“He was stupid,” you say, the wry smile that tugs to your lips is a bit more genuine. You pause and then amend, “We were both stupid when we were twenty—thought we were untouchable—but Chuuya especially. Was a bit too arrogant on a mission and got three bullets in the back because of it. He dragged himself out of the warehouse they were ambushed in and into an alley—she was coming back from a late night class and ran into him. Took him back to her place and patched him up, he couldn’t move for three weeks and he didn’t have his phone on him. I went crazy looking for him, thought he was dead or worse, captured.”

Crazy might be understating it, honestly. In the three weeks Chuuya was missing, you all but upended the entire Mafia. There was no information on who the assailants had been, the entire warehouse had burned to the ground and the only three survivors were comatose, so you orchestrated the end of five different organizations that had been pressing their luck in Mafia territory, hoping that one of them had been the culprit.

Realistically, you had known that if any of the organizations had captured Chuuya, they would have made it known that they had him, but you’d been so viciously angry that you hadn’t even cared in the moment… and you had thought at the time, that if he wasn’t captured, he was almost definitely dead, so you hadn’t wanted to consider the alternative as an actual option.

“But no, he was with a civilian girl who knew damn well from the wounds and his outfit what he was involved with but still decided to help him,” you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “She was just as stupid as us, I guess.”

“How did you meet her?” Dazai asks curiously. “Did Chuuya introduce you?”

Your smile softens a bit at the edges as you pull his hand into your lap, tracing along the lines of his palm and up his fingers. “Nah, Chuuya tried to keep her out of this as much as possible. Talked all about her but never brought her around, was careful to never give up too much information about her to people he didn’t fully trust.”

You sigh, gaze drifting from his hand over to the window, watching absently as the wind smacks a tree branch against the glass. You think there must be a storm rolling in—you’d noticed that the skies were getting cloudy before the sun had set earlier but you hadn’t thought anything of it. You hope it doesn’t knock the power out—you don’t think this place has a generator.

“I only met her by chance—was in the area with Klaus handling a small gang that was causing trouble for civilians because I had nothing better to do. I get there and lo and behold, they’ve got Chuuya’s girl backed in an alley. We got there before they could do anything but she was shaken, obviously. Was sweet though, she recognized me from pictures Chuuya has, invited both me and Klaus back to her apartment and made us tea. Chuuya flew across the city when I texted him, crashed right through the window.”

Your lips quirk up into another smile as you remember the way that Chuuya had quite literally crashed through her window, panicked and furious that some lowlives had tried to fuck with her. The way she spent thirty minutes shouting at him for breaking her window and forcing him to go replace it before he even had himself oriented.

Dazai snorts and then quietly asks the dreaded question, “What happened to her?”

“We were stupid,” you repeat, softer this time. “Thought we were untouchable. Chuuya—he’s the strongest ability user in the world—and I’m set to take over the strongest mafia in the eastern hemisphere. No one would dare try to attack either of us because they know it’s futile—a death wish. And we… forgot that the people we love aren’t as protected. That there are people out there who would do anything to try to cripple us if given the chance.”

Your throat swells, an uncomfortable lump forming as you stare ahead blankly, the movie still playing but none of it processing through your brain. You don’t even know what’s happening on it, all you can see are indecipherable blobs moving on the screen. Dazai doesn’t press you to continue but you can still feel him looking at you and the way he squeezes your hand, so you take in a deep breath before continuing.

“It was a Thursday night. Chuuya was meeting her on campus to bring her out of the city for the weekend as a surprise. She never walked out of the building her class was in and when he asked around, they said she never showed up. He went to her apartment to check on her because he realized something was up and the whole place was trashed—blood everywhere, windows shattered, they even killed one of her fucking cats. Chuuya called me but he couldn’t even speak properly, I tracked him to her apartment and realized what had happened.”

He had her other cat in his lap, you remember, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Was kneeling in her blood next to the other one with the living one curled in his lap, licking his wrist as if begging him to get up and snap out of it. You’d never seen him like that before—face so pale that he looked bloodless, eyes wide and haunted, not processing anything around him—he was usually good in emergencies, never froze up, always moved forward. He didn’t even fight Klaus and Akutagawa when you told them to get him to your apartment, to not let anyone see him like this.

“I… he wasn’t in the right state to lead or plan an operation, so I did. I took over,” you say quietly, “and I failed.”

It wasn’t your first failure. Itou’s death was your fault no matter how much people try to convince you otherwise. Even if the information you’d been given wasn’t accurate, you still should’ve been quicker on your feet. You’ve circled the what-ifs in your head over and over again, there were so many routes you could’ve taken but you’d frozen up in the face of a situation out of your control and it cost Itou his life.

Wasn’t your first failure, but it was the first that had been entirely in your control. You took too long to figure out who had her, took too long to get the Black Lizards organized, by the time you got to their base, she’d already been dead.

“They were called the Serpent’s Tongue. A younger organization that had been based in Kyoto before they came to Yokohama. We hadn’t been taking them seriously,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “Should have been, obviously. By the time I’d figured out who had her and where they were… Chuuya was demanding to come with us, wanted to be the first face she saw after getting her out of there. Wouldn’t budge on it. We got there and they left her head for us to find. Chuuya had barged into the room first and…”

You still hear the way he screamed her name in your nightmares, still see how he’d fallen to his knees. He’d unleashed corruption in his grief, devastating the area and nearly killing you with it—when you pulled him out of it, he told you that you should’ve let it take him. You let out a heavy breath, gaze drifting to the side again.

“I don’t have a good track record for saving people,” you say quietly. “I don’t… her death destroyed Chuuya. And if you… if something happens to you now when I know better…”

You’d never recover from it. Never.

“... That’s why you were so mad,” Dazai realizes after a few moments. When you give him a confused look, he elaborates. “The day we got my suit tailored and I texted you.”

You snort. “I had Chuuya on standby and was about to put the Mafia’s equivalent of the special ops on standby because I thought you were in trouble.”

Dazai flushes bright red. “I didn’t know,” he complains. “How was I supposed to know?”

Your lips curve up into a fond smile as you reach out for him, beckoning him to come back over to you. He pouts but he crawls back over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you back until you’re laying on the couch so that he can lay right on top of you, burying his face in your chest. You bring one hand up to cradle the back of his head, the other sliding down to his back to hold him close to you.

You feel his lips pull up into a smile as he tilts his head up, big brown eyes peeking up at you, a soft brown under the dim lighting of the room, sweet and adoring. You’ve never had someone look at you that way in your life—like you’re something worth being treasured, someone to treat gently. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans up to brush his lips against your jaw and-

And you think you love him.

The thought is so jarring that you almost physically flinch as soon as it crosses your mind. You only realize something’s wrong when you notice that Dazai’s eyes shot open in surprise and instantly, your mouth floods with ash.

No way.

“What?” he breathes out.

“What?” you echo, voice flat.

“What did you just say?” he asks, a bit more rushed, eyes bright but expression hesitant—as if he’s trying to not get his hopes up but can’t help himself. “Tell me what you said. Say it again.”

You have half a mind to deny it but Dazai just looks so… he looks so happy. Hopeful. Like you’ve told him something that he never expected anyone to ever say to him. So all you can do is steel yourself and clear your throat as you say quietly: “I think I love you.”

Dazai doesn’t respond; he stares at you and you think he’s hardly even breathing. His eyes rapidly search your face, desperately trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth or not and when he finds his answer, he looks entirely devastated, as if you’ve taken his world and ripped it right out from under him.

“I’m not someone made to be loved,” he tells you, voice so quiet that you barely even hear it. His fingers clutch your shirt tightly like he’s scared to let go of you.

Your smile softens. “Yet here I am.”

“You’ll regret it,” Dazai says shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows. “You will.”

A part of you wants to tell him no, that if anyone ends up regretting anything, it will be him—that if anyone isn’t made for love, it’s you—but you don’t have it in you. You raise your hand to cup his cheek, watching as his lashes flutter shut; you lift your other hand to brush his hair back behind his ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him quietly.

“You will,” he insists. “You really will. I-”

“I won’t,” you say again, firmer this time, and Dazai lets out a noise in the back of his throat, dropping down to lay flat against you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

His lashes are wet, you can feel the dampness against your skin, and you can also feel how hot his face is. You smile as your hand slides to the back of his head again, absently playing with the dark locks as you tilt your head to the side and kiss his temple.

Dazai takes in a wet, ragged breath at the casual and unexpected action. You can feel his shoulders shake as he tries to regain control of himself and your free hand rests between his shoulder blades, thumb drawing circles against his skin.

“What happened to the cat?” Dazai suddenly asks after a few moments of him trying to settle down, voice cracking and wavering over the words as he desperately tries to change the subject to something that doesn’t have him on the verge of collapse.

“The cat?”

“The cat, the one that lived. What happened to it?” he asks more insistently, not bothering to even look up from where he’s hiding his face against you.

“Oh.” You realize what he’s talking about. “Chuuya took it in.”

Dazai makes a sharp noise of disgust. “Gross,” he complains. “He doesn’t even seem like a cat person.”

You can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips. “What is your problem with him?” you ask. “You’ve had it out for him from day one.”

Dazai sniffs. “I just don’t like him, that’s all,” he says defensively. “I don’t need a reason.”

“Sure,” you agree, amused. “Whatever you say.”

Dazai lights up suddenly at your words. “Whatever I say?” he prods, finally lifting his face to look up at you, eyes gleaming. You give him a suspicious look but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return.

“Nothing,” he sings without you even needing to say anything, making you even more suspicious, but then he lays back down on top of you, nudging his nose against the side of your face. You feel him smile against your skin, he kisses your cheek once, twice and then a third time before settling back down. “Let’s watch Despicable Me.”

“No.”

“You said whatever I say-”

“No!”

“Are you asleep?”

Dazai pouts as he nudges you gently—he’s been wide awake for over an hour now and he knows he shouldn’t bother you considering you didn’t sleep the night before, but he still finds himself seeking out your company. He’s half laying on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he continues to bop his forehead against your chin to wake you up.

The two of you had gone back to the bedroom a few hours ago and you’d fallen asleep pretty quickly. Dazai had dozed off for a bit too, but he found himself startled awake by a particularly loud cracking noise from outside, a tree toppling over from the wind probably, and now he couldn’t fall back asleep.

And a Dazai left with only his own mind as company is not a good Dazai.

He tried to distract himself with you for a bit. Watched you sleep for a while—creepy as it is, he found peace in watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft puffs of air that left your lips, how every time he tried to pull away from you, your brows would furrow and your arms would tighten around him. He’s never had someone who wanted him before, much less someone who wanted him so genuinely and unconditionally that even in their sleep, they seek him out and want him close. He didn’t even know what to think of it, honestly, a part of him was still waiting for you to start laughing and telling him that this is all some big joke.

I think I love you.

His breath shakes the same way it does every time your words echo through his head, fingers trembling from where he’s running them up and down your arm softly.

Love. Love. Love.

You love him. Him. Someone who can hardly function on an everyday basis, someone who has to wrap himself up in bandages because he’s embarrassed of what lies beneath them, someone who has only ever had death and misfortune follow him around his entire life. You love him even though you’ve listened to him fumble over words like a fool because he gets tongue tied in your presence, you love him even though he blackmailed you into giving him a chance because he was that desperate for your attention, you love him even though you had to pick him up at the hospital after a failed suicide attempt because he has no one else in his life to call.

You love him. Him. You love him in spite of all of his flaws—and he knows very well there are a lot of them. You love him in spite of all of the pushback from the people around you. You love him in spite of the fact that your world is completely different from his, in spite of the fact that you could do so much better than him, in spite of the fact that Dazai is Dazai and you’re you and you’re so far out of his league that Dazai doesn’t even think he should be breathing the same air as you, much less curling up next to you in bed. Even though it puts so much at risk—your life, your occupation, everything—you love him still and Dazai just can’t understand it.

And Dazai loves you.

He does. He thinks he’s known it since the beginning, since that day at the school library when you came over because he was sitting all alone at a table that was clearly meant for a group of individuals and not just one, when you realized something was bothering him so you gave him your name even though he had been rude to you when he got embarrassed over having no friends. Since that day at his apartment complex when you showed up to deal with his shitty landlord; he’d made a joke about how you should waive his rent, not expecting anything of it, and you did. Since you rushed to him while he was at the men’s warehouse—he’d thought it was odd that you seemed so irritated by his dramatics trying to get you to come to him, but now that he knew it was because you thought he was in trouble, thought he was in danger and rushed to him like he was the only thing that mattered even back then…

Dazai loves you, and he didn’t tell you when you told him—he wants to tell you even though the thought of pushing those words out of his mouth terrifies him, so he returns to trying to wake you up.

“Wake up,” Dazai complains quietly, booping his forehead against your chin again. “Wake up, wake up, wake-”

“What’s wrong?” you finally ask through a yawn, voice rough with sleep as you shift a bit. One of your hands comes up to run your fingers through his hair and Dazai hums at the feeling, eyes drooping shut again as he sinks back into your chest. “Dazai?”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly, “... will you call me Osamu?”

Your fingers still in their steady strokes through his hair and for a split second, Dazai thinks that he misstepped. But then, you lean your head down to press your lips against his forehead and he can only let out a shaky breath, nuzzling his face into your body.

“Osamu,” you repeat, voice soft and a bit more awake—and god, the sound of his given name leaving your lips is almost heavenly, he thinks.

He can’t remember the last time someone called him by his first name, his aunt was probably the last and it was her screaming at him to get out of his car before she left him to die in Suribachi. It’s an unpleasant memory, and he thinks that maybe he’s only been able to associate his given name with unpleasantness because of it, but this… it makes him feel light and cozy, like the warmth of a hearth surrounding him after spending years alone in the cold wilderness. He thinks he could hear you say his name a million times and never tire of this feeling.

“Osamu, tell me what’s wrong. Why’d you wake me up?”

His lips part to say the three words he planned on saying but they wither and die on his tongue when his eyes meet yours. Even with your words ringing through his head, he can’t bring himself to say it. And it’s silly. It’s silly because he’s scared that if he says it, it’ll be the trigger the gods need to finally rip you away from him—everything he never wants to lose is always lost the moment he obtains it, it’s true, he told you this and he’s been treading such a fine line and he’s terrified that speaking those three words out loud will be enough for the twisted gods above to finally rip the rug out from under his feet.

So, he doesn’t say it.

“Osamu,” you frown—he’ll never tire of it, he has half a mind to ask you to say it over and over and over again, doesn’t care if it makes him seem crazy. “What’s going on?”

He needs to say something—the longer he sits here evading answering, the more concerned you’re going to get, and the more concerned you get, the harder it’s going to be to lie. Dazai’s throat spasms as he instead broaches a different topic that has been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Are you attracted to me?”

It has been a rather persistent thought in the back of his head, even more so since the two of you spoke at the cliff yesterday. At first, he thought maybe it was just because you didn’t really want him—that you were trying to evade any physical intimacy with him because he was backing you into a corner and you were uncomfortable.

But now? Knowing that you do want him? He doesn’t have any other explanation than the fact that maybe you just aren’t attracted to him… and he’s not sure he can blame you. Who would be attracted to someone who hardly takes care of himself and wraps himself in bandages like a mummy?

You stare at him for a moment, expression too blank for comfort before your brows begin to furrow. The longer you take to respond, the more embarrassed Dazai is.

“What?” you finally ask, voice stunted and perplexed.

Dazai’s face heats up, regretting his words immediately.

He should have just told you what he wanted to say originally.

“Nevermind,” he says, rolling over so that his back is to you, not wanting you to see his red face. “Forget it.”

“Hey, no,” you say, suddenly sounding all too awake and Dazai squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to crawl into a ditch and die. “Osamu, what? What are you even talking about? How is that even a question?”

He feels you sit up in the bed next to him and pointedly lays on his stomach to bury his face in the pillow to try to hide himself even as you shift to look over at him. It’s to no avail because you’re a brute and decide to just grab his shoulder to forcibly roll him back onto his back. Dazai scowls up at you, face still aflame.

“Don’t manhandle me,” he grumbles, averting his gaze but you only shift right back into his line of vision, frowning. “Stop, it’s nothing. Forget it. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek and Dazai thinks you’re entirely unfair because he is simply too weak to your touch so he can already feel himself giving in when you look at him with a slight frown and say, “Tell me.”

Dazai huffs. He huffs and he bristles like an irritated cat, he scowls up at you for forcing him to explain himself and then his shoulders slump in defeat.

How embarrassing.

“I just… have tried to… initiate things and you… don’t ever… want to?”

Dazai thinks a gun in the mouth might be kinder than this.

And then-

And then you have the nerve to laugh at him. Or, you don’t laugh but you smile and you look like you’re about to laugh, so Dazai jerks up into a sitting position, offended. Your hand falls from his face and instantly, he’s yearning for your touch again.

“You’re laughing at me,” he accuses, voice dripping with disbelief. “You just laughed at me when I was opening up to you.”

“No,” you say and then laugh. You laugh and Dazai stares at you in abject horror. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”

“You’re laughing at me right now,” Dazai squawks. “You’re-I can’t believe you’re laughing at me.”

“Osamu,” you say, smile softening as you look at him. You reach out again, fingers brushing his skin before your palm settles against his cheek again, thumb so close to the corner of his lips. Dazai’s breath hitches, lashes fluttering as his eyes meet yours. “I knew that if we started something, I wouldn’t be able to stop. So I didn’t want to let it start. I… still thought you’d be better off away from me, out of this life, and I wouldn’t have been able to let go if I let anything happen between us.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, processing the words, and then confirms, “... So you are attracted to me?”

“Yes,” you say, unbearably amused. “Very.”

“... But why?” Dazai asks quietly, voice a bit too vulnerable for his liking.

“What do you mean why?”

He clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling as he says, “I’m not anything special, y’know?” He’s careful to keep his voice light and airy, void of all of the insecurity that’s been ripping him apart since the two of you met. “I just don’t get it. You could have anyone you want—literally—so why me?”

You click your tongue and Dazai hears you shift around again, breath catching when you sit yourself right on his lap, lifting both hands to his face now to force him to look at you. With his face settled between your hands and your body flush to his, Dazai has no choice but to meet your gaze head on and he almost dies at the intense look in your eyes, can hardly breathe.

“Do you want me to show you why?” you hum with a teasing smile.

Dazai inhales sharply, eyes widening at the offer. His lips part to respond but no words leave them, so he just nods. You’re not pleased with that response, clearly, from how you raise your eyebrows.

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Show me. Prove that you want me. Please.”

You don’t even waste a second before you’re leaning in to press your lips against his. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut and his breath hitches as you press him back against the plush pillows of the bed. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the rough bandages covering his body that are probably prickling your skin uncomfortably, of his chapped lips and hair that’s a bit too dry because he never properly washes it.

“The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes,” you say quietly, pulling away from him so your gaze could meet his. He tries to chase your lips but you don’t let him. “I could hardly look away from them. I tried to walk away from you that night at the bar but every time I looked at you, I found myself lost in them.”

Dazai’s throat spasms, face flushing. “Don’t lie,” he tells you, voice hoarse. “Nobody likes my…”

Too wide. Too black. Too empty. Dull. Hollow. Soulless. All things he’s heard people say about his eyes—no one can ever look him in the eyes for too long before they find themselves uncomfortable.

“I’m not lying,” you say with a soft smile, there’s almost a wistful look in your eyes as you continue. “Right now, they remind me of the night sky, dark and endless, filled with countless glittering stars… I love the stars… They remind me of home.”

Dazai chews on his bottom lip as he stares up at you; he tries to speak but again, he finds himself unable to. You don’t force him to this time though, bringing your hand back to his cheek and running your thumb over his bottom lip as if to stop him from biting at it.

“Under the sun, they’re gold,” you tell him quietly. “The first time I noticed, it was the day we met at the ports. Sunset. You were standing right at the opening of the alley I’d been waiting in with Klaus and the sun hit you just right. You looked so pretty beneath it that I was almost tongue-tied. If we hadn't been interrupted, I would’ve made a fool of myself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Dazai’s voice wobbles terribly. “You-”

“I’m not,” you murmur. Dazai’s breath shakes as you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips. This time, instead of going back to his lips, you kiss down to his jaw slowly. “The second thing I noticed about you was your smile.”

Too fake. Too teethy. Too strained. Unnatural looking.

“Not the fake one you love to put on,” you say, nipping his skin gently. “Your real one. I got a glimpse of it that day at the cafe—the second time we met—when you realized I’d actually been listening to you that night at the bar. But I really saw it that day at Kido’s when we started talking about poetry… I don’t even think you realized you were smiling, the corners of your lips were curved up and your expression was just so… soft. Peaceful. You looked happy and I think that was the first time I really realized that a large majority of the time you put on a mask when you’re around people.”

When you kiss down to the edge of the bandages around his neck, Dazai thinks you’ll ask him to take them off and he braces himself for the question. Braces himself for the discomfort of being bare in front of someone for the first time… ever maybe, because it’s not like he can say no if you ask him to take them off after he badgered you into this.

But you don’t. You kiss over the bandages as if they’re not even there, you tug at his shirt to get him to lift his arms up for you to pull it off and when you do, you continue kissing down his chest—over the bandages—and don’t even show the slightest bit of discontent about it.

“You’ve seen through me… since all the way back then?” Dazai swallows thickly when your hands rest on his slim waist, breath quickening. “But then why…”

Why did you stay?

“That day at the boutique… I was supposed to cut you off,” you admit quietly, sitting back on his thighs as your hands rest on his hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, but you don’t move to pull them off. Dazai’s body is uncomfortably hot, head frighteningly fuzzy, he can only barely bring himself to listen to your words. “My first thought when I realized that I’d gotten my first glimpse behind your mask was that I wanted to see more of you, wanted to see you smile genuinely, wanted to learn more about you, I wanted you. I’d realized I let it go too far—that I was starting to actually fall for you and I was putting you in danger—but even then, I couldn’t do it.”

His breath shakes as he breathes in and out, fingers digging into your thighs. He parts his lips to say something but you continue before he can.

“I spoke to Chuuya that same night—he told me that this had to stop, that I was going to get you killed. The next time we met was at the ports. One of the Port Mafia’s enemies had seen us together,” you say, expression a bit more serious now. “Klaus killed him. I had the entire organization exterminated that same night.”

Dazai thinks that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. His heart rate spikes at your words, breath quickening and that pool of heat in his lower abdomen gets impossibly hotter, his mind almost entirely shatters at what you’re saying. Your grip on his hips tightens just a bit, lips pressed together as you look down at him with an unreadable expression.

“I would do terrible things for you, Dazai Osamu,” you tell him softy. “I have done terrible things for you and I would do them again and again and again.”

“Please,” Dazai breathes out, and he’s not even sure what he’s saying please for, but you do.

You do. As always, Dazai is seen when he’s with you and he can’t help the whimper that spills from his lips, the way his eyes mist over with tears. Dazai is seen and he is loved and-and he’s happy. He’s happy—really, truly happy for the first time since Odasaku’s death.

You lean down to kiss Dazai again—this kiss is sloppier than the last few, a frantic clashing of teeth as your hands slide down his body to pull his sweatpants off. Dazai lifts his hips to help you get them off of him, his own fingers clumsily tugging at your silk shorts to try to yank them off of you.

Once he gets them off, his hands drop down to your hips, pulling you down so that you’re sitting flush against him. He moans into your mouth when he finally gets the friction he’s so desperately been aching for, grinding his clothed cock against your panties. He feels almost dizzy with need, lips sliding messily against yours, nails digging crescents into your hips. He thinks maybe he might be able to cum just from this and the thought is embarrassing but he can’t even stop the way he’s rocking his hips up.

Your lips trail from his down to his neck and Dazai tosses his head back against the pillow when your teeth scrape against his skin before you bite down hard, a lewd moan escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps again, voice breaking over the only word he seems to be capable of saying. “Please.”

You lean forward as you reach between your bodies to ease his cock out of his briefs and Dazai nearly cums on the spot when he feels your fingers wrap around him, fingers sliding against the precum dripping down his length. You rest your forehead against his, lips dragging across his cheek back to his lips as you press the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He almost says it in that moment—foreheads pressed together, sharing the same sliver of air, both of you breathing shakily as his tip just barely sinks into you—those three words, he almost says them. They almost slip out when his gaze meets yours and he sees the soft, enamored expression on your face as you look down at him.

Dazai’s eyes knock back when you sink down on his cock, lips parted in a silent moan, vision white. For a terrifying moment, Dazai thinks he might’ve cum just from the feeling of your walls warm and tight around his cock. His whole body trembles, his head feels foggy and garbled—he’s speaking, he realizes, but he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He can feel his lips moving, can hear something leaving them, but he’s so out of it that he can’t even process what it is.

You nip at his lips once, then twice, before you trail kisses to his ear, savoring in the way he shivers when you tug at his earlobe. You only start to rock your hips when your lips get to that spot behind his ear that makes him entirely incoherent. You suck and nip at the skin as you roll your hips slowly, each drag of his cock against your walls makes him choke over moans.

He’s not going to last long, he realizes absently, unable to even be mortified by the thought considering how focused he is on your body, warm and flush against his. His hands are moving sliding up your body to your chest, back down your body to your ass—he doesn’t even know what to do with them, honestly, wants to touch every part of you all at the same time, wants to make you feel half as good as you’re making him feel but he can’t even think with your lips sucking at his skin and your cunt squeezing his cock.

His moan breaks suddenly, cracking and quavering as it slips into a sob. His breath is ragged and shuddered, and his vision swims. He feels his cheeks wet and your hands leave from where they’re braced on his shoulders to cup his cheeks.

Your thumbs wipe away the tears spilling down his cheeks, you lean down to ghost your lips against his temple, and your voice is soft, so soft as you whisper, “I know, baby, I’ve got you. Let go.”

And he does. The taut cord in his abdomen tightens impossibly more before snapping, his nails drag down your thighs, leaving long red marks, his hips snap up and he tosses his head back against the pillows. One of your hands slides from his cheek to wrap around his neck firmly and Dazai is gone—his vision goes dark and spotty, a choked cry of your name escapes his lips and Dazai cums so hard that he thinks he blacks out momentarily.

You lean down and press your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as your walls spasm around him. Dazai’s breath is sharp and quick, lashes wet and heavy, his body twitches and trembles as you ride out your high on his spent cock. He can feel you panting against his skin, your lips sliding from his to press against his cheek as you try to catch your breath.

And Dazai thinks he could stay like this forever, basking in your presence, the feeling of your body pressed to his, his cock still snug in your cunt and one of your hands cradling his face while the other cups the side of his neck, fingers absently playing with the ends of his matted hair. Your forehead rests against his cheek, savoring his presence just as much as he is yours.

He feels warm, he feels safe, he feels loved.

He feels loved.

You shift back just enough to look him in the eye, close enough so that your nose is still brushing his, that you’re still sharing air. Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and your eyes are soft and adoring as you look down at him. As you admire him.

“I could give you countless reasons as to why I want you,” you finally say quietly, “but when it comes down to it, the main reason is because you’re you, Osamu.”

He feels loved.

Your weekend paradise with Dazai shatters with a single message not even six hours later.

Chuuya: I need you. Going to use Corruption.

smut development: minimal besides some dialogue. she told him that when she saw through his mask, her first desire was wanting to see/know more of him. also tells him what happened after she met him at the ports (ie. having the yakuza exterminated). tells him: i'd do terrible things for you - i have done terrible things for you and i would do them again. then at the very end, she tells him that the reason she wants you is because she's him.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs smut

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keyotos · 2 years ago

Text

eyes on you

summary: when do the hsr men have their eyes on you?

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo & jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ i am OBSESSED w the sound "all these girls look good but i got my eyes on you." so that's what inspired me to write this. this is sickenly sweet btw.

dan heng

⎯ let’s be real this man always has his eyes on you. he is probably watching you to look out for you. but that’s just in a romantic sense.

⎯ dan heng is the observer type. he watches and he learns.

⎯ he watches you quite a lot. he always tries to brush it off as trying to make sure you don't break anything, but march & stelle know better. even you aren't that klutzy.

⎯ dan heng watches what you eat to find out what you enjoy. he watches how you react to certain things to see if you dislike them or not. in short, he observes (watches) you to find out how to be better for you. he wants to be the best version of himself, and that includes knowing what all your favorite things are.

⎯ he definitely logs all the information he knows about you in his little data base. it's like his notes app, but a notes app for nerds.

⎯ march & stelle insist he just ask you, but nooooooo, because that would seem like he doesn't know anything about you. in reality, he knows plenty.

⎯ you would think that, judging on how much he stares at you, he would know how to not get caught. WRONG. you've caught him on multiple occasions.

one time, when the world around you was surprisingly peaceful, you and dan heng went to go get food for march & stelle. after you ordered their food you guys sat down at a table (bc you all were meeting up) with their food. you eyed the food carefully before stealing a sip of stelle's drink.

⎯ "she won't mind!" she did. but that's okay.

when you took a sip out of stelle's drink, dan heng was watching you closely to see if you would enjoy it. if you enjoyed it, he'd get one for you the next time you guys come. while he's staring, he loses track of his original goal and begins noting other things. the crinkle of your eyes when you smile at the taste of the drink. the way your whole face lights up.

⎯ "take a picture, it'll last longer," you caught him and smiled. dan heng leaves his trance and begins to blush.

⎯ "that is such a ridiculous line," he shakes his head, trying to deflect the fact that he's been caught. he has his eyes on you one more time to see you smirking at him.

⎯ he now takes candid photos of you because of that line.

gepard

⎯ due to his captain position, you guys never got to see each other often. any free time you had was treated with utmost importance and no time could be spared. gepard barely had any time to set any eyes on you.

⎯ when bronya became the supreme guardian and when the fragmentum dispelled, everything changed. gepard now had more free time, which meant he had more time with you. time that could be spent doing nothing but just admiring the way you look.

gepard hasn't seen you in weeks. with the final clearance of the fragmentum monsters, he was gifted a few weeks of clarity with you. when he got home, he immediately showered and tried his best to look good for you.

when he saw you for the first time, you literally took his breath away. it was as if you glowed; you were nearly as radiant as the bright sun that was shining down on your face. gepard's eyes and his attention were only on you.

⎯ you and the guy that was standing next to you.

⎯ WHO IS THIS MAN????? did you finally get tired of endless waiting? did you feel lonely? does he treat you well? is he nice? does he listen to all your rants? is he there to kiss you goodnight?

⎯ gepard's thoughts are interrupted when he hears your voice. he sees you running over to him and then you're pulling him.

you grab his arm, pulling him towards the new guy. gepard was initially worried about what was going to happen next, but all was forgotten when he felt your arm tangled around his once again; he immediately leaned into your warm touch. instead of looking at the new guy, his eyes follow you at all times. gepard's fond expression is seen by all except himself.

his absence from your grace allowed him to forget every small detail about you. the way your smile grew as you spoke about your relationship (gepard blushed). the way you got all excited when you were introducing people. the way your voice goes up an octave when you get excited.

every time you pull yourself closer to his body, gepard is on the verge of combustion. he’s been touch starved for so long, he couldn’t wait for until you guys went home. he just wanted to be in bed or on the couch with you, simply relaxing in sweet nothing.

for now though, gepard waited for the conversation to end.

⎯ when the conversation is over, you and gepard have a small conversation.

"sooo, were you listening to me or staring at me during that whole thing?" you smirked. when gepard's face blushed, you couldn't help but smile. "i wasn't cheating on you if that's what you were worried about," you pulled him closer using the collar of his shirt, "i missed you too, by the way," and pulled him in for a kiss.

blade

⎯ blade doesn't consider himself to be the staring type. he's more, less talking (staring), more action (i'll let you guys interpret).

⎯ but how could he not stare at you when you look so peaceful. you're sleeping in his bed, wrapping in his blankets, and snoring without a care in the world.

⎯ had the snoring not been so loud, blade wouldn't have woken up to find such an endearing moment.

⎯ now, blade has been staring at your sleeping figure for longer than he would like to admit. he's been watching the rise and fall of your chest. listening to the snores getting quieter and then louder once more. he cannot tear his eyes off of your peaceful state.

blade brushes pieces of stray hair away from your face. he puts his hand over your sleeping figure, as if he was trying to protect you from the evils in the night. at this moment, however, there were no evils. just you and him in the moonlight. maybe it was the domesticity of the whole situation that made him continue his one-sided staring contest. with all the fighting and destruction going on in the universe right now, you are still next to him. you are here, and he is listening to you snore.

⎯ it's when you shuffle around the best, blade gets scared. he's scared he woke you up and ruined this domestic moment. his hand recoils away from your body.

⎯ when you turn, you are still asleep. it seems you were just readjusting yourself. readjusting yourself closer to him, that is. you went from back facing him to your front facing him.

⎯ blade watched your face as you slept. you looked so beautiful with the pale moonlight shining down on your face. normally, you complained that you couldn't sleep with the moon shining on your face, so that's why you slept with your back facing towards blade.

⎯ but tonight, blade has never gotten a chance to admire how the moonlight reflects on the shapes of your faces. your eyes, your lips, your nose.

⎯ it's when you put a hand on his knee, blade nearly jumps back. not out of fear (slightly out of fear), but because he thought he woke you up by breathing. he was confused.

you put your hand on his knee, in a sleeping daze. usually, at night, you are always physically touching your boyfriend somehow. but tonight, he is awake, watching you. your small act of physical touch was a beckoning for him to go to sleep and be with you.

⎯ blade grabbed your hand and slipped back under the covers with you. this time, after admiring one last glimpse of your sleeping face, he tugged you closer to him and you both fell asleep.

sampo

⎯ there are many formidable fighters in boulder city. that's a fact. fighting is the way of many in the underworld. sampo has seen it first hand.

⎯ sampo had not, however, seen a fighter as formidable as you.

⎯ he stumbled upon one of dig's matches at the right time. there was a crowd leading out to the door; it peaked sampo's curiosity. he had intentions of selling items at first, which is why he was shuffling through the crowd to get into the center. but when he saw you in the ring, beating everyone in your path, his beginning intentions were forgotten.

⎯ his eyes were glued to you: he was obsessed with the way you moved, the way you glided across the ring, the way you confidently destroyed all your enemies. he found you entrancing, and he had to see you after the match.

⎯ you’re no underground idiot. you’re aware of sampo koski and his costly scams. when he comes up to you after your match, you were about to run away. still, something about his presence made you want to stay.

when you turned around, you were faced with sampo koski hovering over you. “can i help you?” you asked in a raised tone.

“yes,” sampo smiled. you were interested in where this conversation was going, and you were curious on why sampo chose you to be his next victim. “mind teaching me some moves?”

⎯ you expected a lot of things in this situation. scamming, coy flirtation, winks, etc. you did not expect this.

⎯ you almost stumble back in shock. why does he want to know self-defense tips?? who are the people he’s scamming??????

you’re silent for several beats before sampo begins again, “you’re the best fighter in the underground, honest. and,” he dragged on the word to drag out the conversation, “that means you can help me!”

⎯ if sampo was really being honest with himself, he could’ve asked any other person in the ring. anyone else would’ve shown him self-defense; they liked him. you probably did not (judging by your expression).

⎯ instead, he wanted you. he told himself it was because you were the best fighter in the ring and you were talented. but deep down, it’s because he couldn’t keep his eyes off your performance the entire time; he was encapsulated by you.

“flattery will get you nowhere,” you patted his shoulder and started to walk away; however, sampo’s hand lightly grabs onto your arm, urging you to stay. and for some reason, you don’t let go.

“cmon,” he smirked, and it was weirdly attractive, “what if i need a bodyguard?”

⎯ maybe it was the tone of his voice. maybe it was the way he looked at you. maybe it was the way he held onto you, but he didn’t hold on too tight. whatever it was that night, it convinced you to stay by his side for a long time.

jing yuan

⎯ he can’t take his eyes off of you when he sees you in the courtyard playing chess with yanqing.

⎯ it's a sight for sore eyes, seeing you and yanqing together. the way you two got along so well made jing yuan's heart swell. seeing you two was like feeling the warm sun after a chilly day.

⎯ jing yuan has never expected you to stay for so long. his life has been full of troubles: intense training at a young age, the death of his master, taking on yanqing as his apprentice, and probably more to come. and yet, you've stayed by his side.

⎯ you are here. and you are alive and you are well. with a life full of loss, jing yuan is happy you are still here. he’s happy that you are smiling and laughing and you are doing mundane things such as playing chess.

⎯ it’s a simple activity. it’s calm and it’s peaceful and there’s no harm coming your way. life seems good for once, and jing yuan thinks he can get used to this as long as you were around him. he finds that peace comes along when you are around anyway.

“darn it! how did you see that?!” yanqing exclaimed, shocked by your recent move in chess. you simply smiled in retaliation, “dunno. face it kid, i am just that good.”

“hey! i was close to getting you though,” the boy reminded you. jing yuan was getting closer now to eavesdrop on your conversation. “key word being close,” you snickered.

⎯ who knew the way into jing yuan’s heart was banter and chess? the more he listened to your conversation, the more his heart swelled. the way you got along so easily with yanqing made him all warm and happy inside; it was such a domestic sight to see.

jing yuan approached your battle with yanqing and sat down next to you. like a moth to a light, you immediately leaned into his body, and jing yuan had to fight off the urge to pull you closer to him.

⎯ yanqing didn’t notice anything, as he was too focused on the chess game. he moved one of his pieces that were then followed by one of your chess pieces.

“you know i was the one who taught your master how to play chess?” you blurted out to yanqing as you followed his pieces around the board. jing yuan looked at you fondly, eyes never leaving your face.

“that’s why i’m so good,” you smirked, “and that’s also why i’m smart enough to do this,” you somehow managed to trap all of yanqing’s pieces, and one by one you started to take them all.

⎯ jing yuan had to hold in his laughter as he watched yanqing’s jaw drop to the floor as you give a low chuckle. jing yuan’s eyes went back to your face, and he thinks that this is nice. he could get used to this.

um yk idk if this is good or not but hopefully u guys enjoy this lol

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #gepard x you #gepard x reader #blade x reader #blade x you #gepard landau x reader #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #i am on a grind #will definitely be using fighter!reader for other hcs/fics/drabbles

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darnell-la · 3 months ago

Note

I love your writing so much and I have mad respect for the quality and quantity of your work. Those often don’t go together but you must be superhuman

Anyway, I’ve seen a few fics around about Logan in a rut (which I absolutely love) but what if it was the other way around?

I imagine being on a mission with him and you are some sort of animal hybrid. You get hears but take suppressants normally but one night you start to feel it but have run out of pills

Not a super openly needy !reader and possibly even superficial “enemies” with Logan and you are very stubborn

note: Logan Howlett loves himself a little animal he can ruin.

———

“Have you heard about y/n?” Hank asked Logan as Logan walked through the lab doors. “Nah,” Logan said plainly as he walked towards the cabinets for sleeping pills Hank had made for him to ease his sleep a bit.

“So, you know how she’s quite literally an animal in a human's body, right?” Hank asked, making Logan hum, because he couldn’t care less about anything that had to do with her.

“Well, she’s going through a rut,” Hank slightly whispered, speaking as if that was a bad secret he should’ve kept to himself, and he should’ve.

Logan snapped his head towards the man, eyes widened and eyebrows scrunched. “What do you mean by rut?” Logan asked, already having an idea about what the beast meant.

“You know — Mating season. The professor had me make some pills for her a few weeks ago, and y/n already ran out of them. That’s why I’m making more right now,” Hank said, having no idea what he just awoke in Logan.

“Ran out?” Logan asked. “Yep — Guess they’re not strong enough so she took double or triple of what I prescribed to her,” Hank replied as Logan thought to himself.

The man’s mind had run wild, not thinking he’d ever feel this cocky or needing to tease y/n about this.

“How come I didn’t know about this?” Logan asked. “Oh, I didn’t know you didn’t know. Mostly everyone in the house knows about this, so I don’t see a problem with you knowing,”

Logan hummed with a nod before he left the lab, completely forgetting and not caring about the pills anymore. He had some things to do.

For the past hour, Logan had been setting up to get to y/n. When it came to making her mad, he was quick with thinking and doing whatever he needed, but teasing? He knew this would feel better.

The man had taken a long and nice shower, making sure the soap he used had a strong smell to it. Afterwards, he got out and lotioned down which he never does. Maybe his hands, but never his whole body.

When he got dressed, he dressed in normal blue jeans with a nice thick and heavy leather belt. He matched his undershirt with a white tank top that was a bit tight on him.

Logan was known for using a bit of cologne, maybe a smell more in the manly side, but today he wore a cologne Scott had given him for his birthday. “That shit you always wear scares the woman away. It’s too strong,” he remembered the man’s words.

After Logan was all done up for y/n, ready to start his evil torment, he walked out of his room and made his way downstairs towards the living that y/n was always in.

The man had entered the room, giving y/n no eye contact as he sat down on the sofa he’s always on, making sure to let out a louder groan the usual.

Y/n was confused about who had just walked into before she looked up from her phone to see Logan. She’s never smelled him or anyone this way? Why does he smell so clean and good?

Logan grabbed the remote that was on the arm of his sofa and clicked through a few channels until he found a good movie. A very sexual move that he was not really into, but he knew they had a lot of explicit parts.

Long and hard minutes and buy for y/n. The smell of the man and the sounds of the movie only made the time go by slowly. She prayed she could handle whatever she felt, but she would soon break.

“What are you even watching, Logan? Like seriously?” Y/n asked, a hint of anger in her voice, but she tried not to make it seem that way. She had told almost everyone in the mansion about her rut, but not Logan. She didn’t want him to know something like that of her.

“Nothin’ sweetheart,” Logan said in his normal tone, but for some reason, that sent a shock through y/n’s body. “Well, could you maybe put something else on? Ian tryna listen to all that,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

“Why not? We’re all adults here,” Logan argued back which y/n hated a bit more at this time. “You’re a fucking dick, you know?” Y/n sighed as she shifted on the couch.

“Oh, and why is that? Can’t handle a bit of porn?” Logan asked as he looked at the going lady. He knew his plan was working. Watching her this uncomfortable was far better than arguing with her.

“Whatever, Logan, just- Just shut the fuck up,” y/n cussed, feeling more annoyed and bothered than ever at the man. If she hated him so much, why did she feel this way? She didn’t know, and it bothered her. It bothered how much he got under her skin with little things.

“By the way, the professor has a mission for us in an hour, so if you needed to get dressed and shower, do it now. Don’t needa be late because of you,” y/n said, making the man chuckle. He knew what she was trying to do, and she failed.

“Already showered and dressed, Bub,” Logan replied, which made her roll her eyes again. She wanted to cuss him out and demand him to do something about his smell and look, but she stayed calm. She had to, or else, he’d know.

“Do we seriously have to stay in this fuckin’ hotel? We’re only a few hours or so away from the mansion. Our plane can fly that itself,” y/n said as Logan opened the door to a semi-expensive hotel room.

Logan told the professor that he and y/n were pretty beat up tonight, and needed time to sleep before they flew back.

Of course, since the professor saw no problem in it, he didn’t read Logan’s mind and saw he was lying. He just called the hotel and told them a couple of X-men needed a place to stay. The hotel had no problem with giving the two their best room.

“Are you serious? A fuckin’ one bed!? You’re sleeping in the voice,” y/n said, thinking Logan wouldn’t argue about it like anything other time, but tonight he did for specific reasons.

“I’m sleepin’ comfortable tonight, princess, so if you’re too childish to share the bed, lay on the couch yourself,” Logan said, knowing she would be er do that. She loved a soft bed.

“Fuck you,” she cussed before placing her luggage down to go through it and see what she had for tonight. She felt bad for how much language she had used today, but she couldn’t help it. She was furious.

“Fuck!” She cussed once again as she went through her bag, only finding an extra suit, underwear, and bra. She thought she’d be home by now, and not in a fancy hotel with one bed to sleep in with Logan.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked as he sat in the bed, taking his shirt off that y/n hadn’t seen yet. “Don’t have any close to sleep in,” she said with a hint of anger that she tried to hide.

“Just use mine. Ain’t that hard,” she said as he went through his luggage to pull out a large shirt he had sprayed with some cologne earlier today. He planned well.

“Thank you, I guess,” y/n said as she turned around to grab the shirt. When she did, she froze, seeing Logan’s whole upper body on display. He’s always walking around the mansion shirtless when the kids aren’t there, but tonight, she actually felt bothered by it.

“God, put a shirt on,” y/n tried covering her stare up before she yanked his shirt away. “Can’t do that — You took my sleep shirt,” he smirked to himself as her head dropped.

“What do you mean, Logan?” She asked with a sigh. “Hey, you’re the one who ain’t being shit, so done get mad at me,” Logan said as he unbuckled his belt. That sound made her heart pump.

“You didn’t bring an extra!?” She asked. “Either you wear the shirt, or you wear nothing. I don’t mind taking my shirt back,” she said. She caught his slight flirty comment, and she really wanted to reject him, but couldn’t.

“Whatever,” y/n said before getting up quickly to head to the bathroom before Logan took his jeans off. She couldn’t stick around for it. She didn’t want to test her strength tonight.

“Look, I don’t know what making you pissy today, but fuckin’ cut it, alright?” Logan said as he dried himself off. “You’re making me pissy!” Y/n yelled at the man after she flopped on the bed.

“Yeah? And why is that? I haven’t done shit or even said shit to you all day,” Logan said, already knowing what was wrong with her. He could barely keep his smirks together.

“Logan, can you please just dry off and change in the bathroom like I did? Is that so hard?” She asked as he dried his hair. “Kinda,” he said, making the girl sigh with a mentally painful whine.

“I heard you’re going through your little rut, but it shouldn’t be this bad. Like c’mon. You can’t game a bit of smell and skin?” Logan chuckled, making y/n snap her head towards him.

“You know about that?” She asked, not knowing if she should feel embarrassed or be upset at the man. “Yeah — Ain’t too hard to see either,” the man smirked as she got up from the bed.

“You know I’m going through a fucking rut, and you got us a hotel? With one bed!? And the only thing covering you is a towel? And your shirt smells like this!? — You planned this,” y/n growled.

“Indeed I did, and it’s pretty fun to watch,” Logan said as he put the towel he was drying himself off with, down. The other hung around his waist loosely, making sure his v-line showed.

“Logan, you can’t do that shit. This dangerous!” /n yelled at the man. “Dangerous? How come? Because I’m locked in a room with a woman who needs to rub one out? Oh, so dangerous,” Logan threw his hands in the air.

“No, it’s dangerous for me! I don’t have my pills, a-and it’s just hard to keep himself together,” y/n slightly explained. “Why is it hard? You know if it’s that bad, you can just ask me to help you,” Logan said, feeling a little bad, but not too much.

“In your fucking dreams,” y/n spat, making him laugh. “Don’t think I’m dreamin, Bub,” Logan said as he began to walk towards y/n. “Hey, no! — No! — Stay back!” Y/n yelled at the man as she backed up until her back hit the wall, next to the bed.

“Why? You horny? Can’t have a man close to you or you might devour them?” Logan asked, a few feet away from y/n. Y/n ran for it and jumped on the bed to get over and on the other side, but Logan caught her.

The man grabbed her ankles and pulled her body into his before leaning over her to trap her in between him and the soft bed.

“Just say the words, and I’ll help you, princess,” Logan said, his own animalistic tone breaking through. “No!” Y/n yelled again, only making Logan grind his lower body in between her legs.

“You sure?” He asked as the towel rubbed her clothed cunt. Logan made sure to only bring a shirt, so that would be the only thing she slept in. No sweats and no shirts.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Logan,” y/n tried keeping her moans in as the towel rubbed her harder. “P-Please stop this. We can’t,” y/n said, but Logan wasn’t having it.

“But we can, and you know it,” Logan said into her ear, lips only a few inches away. “Just tell me you want me, and I’ll rock your little word,” the man said slowly, voice almost enchanting.

“Lo,” y/n said, voice trembling at what she really wanted to say. She was too embarrassed to ask the man to touch her. She was also too stubborn. They hated each other, and he’d constantly tease her if she let this happen.

“I can smell you, y/n. Just give in,” Logan said as his hand slowly traced down her body. Y/n panicked and pushed him off, using strength that he’d never felt come fr her before.

Y/n basically backflipped over the bed to get on the other side and away from him. He was getting to her, and she hated how much her body reacted.

“Little girl thinks she can outrun me, hm? Let’s see who’ll get to that door first,” Logan challenged. Before she y/n thought, her feet moved, taking off to run to the door and maybe get out, but she should’ve known better.

Logan had jumped over the bed like an animal on all fours then pushed her up against the door, hard, knocking the wind out of her body.

“Too slow,” Logan's voice was in her ear before she was sung around. She didn’t know how, but she ended up on her back, legs over the man’s shoulders as her head spun.

“Logan, stop this! W-We can’t,” y/n tried crawling back, but the man held her in place with one hand as the other ripped off his towel. Y/n’s eyes widened when she saw the sight of Logan.

“You wanna know a secret?” Logan asked before he ripped y/n’s panties off, earning a yell from her. “I’m always in a rut when I’m around you, but I rub one out to save your pretty little cunt,” Logan said before he spat on his hand and rub it across her folds.

Y/n struggled to get away from the man. His one-hand grip was tight, and the way her legs were over his shoulders, made it harder for her to push back.

Logan wasted no time pushing at y/n’s entrance, moving forward until he filled her with every thick, veiny, long, and leaking inch he had.

“Logan!” Y/n basically screamed as her hand instantly gripped his wrist which held her down and pulled her into him. “Nah uh, get your hands off of me, or I put mine all on you,” Logan threatened.

“Too much- Too much!” Y/n cried out as his hips snapped harder. “That it, y/n, I fuckin’ warned you,” Logan grabbed the young lady and lifted her body. Her legs still stayed over his shoulders, only making the angle harder for her to take him in.

“L-Lo,” y/n stuttered with a broken whine as one of his hands wrapped around her back and the other held her up by one ass cheek, allowing him to spread as much as he could to fit in her further.

“Told you to quit it, but you never listen,” Logan breathed heavily into her head as his hips thrust forward, moving at an incredible pace that made her feel dizzy.

“So fuckin’ tight, I’m definitely coming back to you. Always wanted you anyways,” Logan admitted as he felt her squeeze him at his confession. “You like that, don’t you? Mean old Logan bully you and this pussy,”

“C-Cumming,” was all y/n could get out as she gushed around him. “That’s it, baby — Keep it up, and I’ll fill you twice tonight,” Logan’s hands gripped the woman’s body tighter, leaning mini bruises that probably weren’t going to be too visible, bye who cared? He didn’t. He planned to mark her up tonight to surprise the crew when they got back.

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jarofstyles · 6 months ago

Text

Leather & Lace 3

Hi loves! This is the last official part of leather and lace but I’m open to doing some one shots and blurbs for them if you want (send requests for what you’d want to see)

Leather & Lace Masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access to pieces and 170+ exclusive writings

WC- 6.3k

Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, soft dom H, slight degradation, praise kink, impact play, light choking, etc all the good stuff.

Y/N padded out of his bedroom with his shirt hanging down on her form. Standing in his kitchen, he placed the glass down with a clink, watching her as she came closer. Glasses on her nose, makeup freshly off, hair tossed on top of her head, and something in her hand. “There she is.” He smiled, leaning against the corner of his countertops. “Took a minute didn’t you? Cinnamon rolls are almost done”. The stock he kept in his fridge for her favorite treat was put to use tonight.

“Amazing.” She beamed, coming up to him. “Sit on the stool, please. I brought a makeup wipe so I can get your eyeliner off, cause I know you’re gonna whine that you’re tired later and then you’ll whine when you get a stye.” Y/N had been through this before a million times.

“Always thinking ahead, aren’t you Butterfly?” He laughed, tapping her nose with his fingertip and not bothering to argue. It was true. He would definitely do that, and it wouldn’t be the first or last time he did. “Alright. Be gentle with me please, m’delicate”.

Closing his eyes, he felt her warm fingers angle his face where she wanted before the cool wipe made contact with his skin.

“So delicate with your bruised and split knuckles, hm? What did the poor punching bag do to you this week? Does he owe you money?” One of his favorite things about Y/N since day one had been her banter. They could go back and forth and she was quick to respond. It was playful, always, but she did tend to get more out of him when she approached it this way. She was asking why he’d been upset this week and been hitting the bag so aggressively and without gloves.

Considering they had just made it official 2 hours ago, she was the best girlfriend ever. She wouldn’t push if he didn’t want to say it and he knew the girl would just nod and move on if he said he didn’t want to talk about it, but he found himself wanting to spill every single thought that crossed his mind to her. Y/N just didn’t have a clue.

“Mm. My father called me.” He said softly into the cinnamon scented air. The sweetness made the bitter notes of his words a bit easier to tolerate. “Just same old shit, y’know? Nothing I do is gonna be good enough. Even though I’m successful in my own right, he’s always got to add those digs in.” The tumultuous relationship between Harry and his father had always been a sore spot. They weren’t enemies and he didn’t hate him, no, but their relationship had been rocky since Harry had gone to uni and not followed in his footsteps. He tried to be supportive in his own way but it was obvious that he disapproved.

Even though he was a grown man and he had plenty of other people proud of him, it always stung. “Sucks sometimes, that I want his approval. It’s the tiniest bit in me, a speck, but I can always feel it when I talk to him. It’s been a few years since the whole blowout and it’s gotten better but I just have to get over it, I guess. I don’t think he ever will.” Even though his sister had done what he wanted Harry to do, it wasn’t the same in his eyes.

“I can only imagine.” There was a delicate pause as she got underneath his waterline. “But it’s okay to be upset about it, you know?” She always tried to tread lightly while also being truthful. It was a sensitive subject and the girl knew it. “He’s your dad. It’s going to bother you because we’re literally wired to want our parents' acceptance. It’s human nature.” Gentle swiping over his eyes got the pencil liner off, but she was thorough with it. Besides, she had a feeling he’d prefer his eyes closed for this sort of talk. “I’m sorry that it’s like that for you, H. I know my words won’t replace his but I’m extremely proud of you and all you’ve done. Hopefully he’ll come around and see all that the rest of us do but… if he doesn’t? That’s a him problem.”

Harry didn’t know how she managed to always say the right things. The knot in his throat shrunk from the comfort she gave him, her tender handling of both his physical being and his heart. This was the reason he wanted more with her. Almost anyone could get him to nut off, but not a single other person made his heart feel like this. Just as she’d said earlier, he felt completely safe with her in a way he didn’t even know he needed. Before her, he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable he was around people, but she showed him a brand new point of view.

In the past, he’d opened himself up slightly to one girl. One girl who had used him and fucked his best mate, who he caught in the act. It had walled up the rest of his emotions in iron, not wanting even a crack to get into him because why would he? He’d never thought she or he would do that to him, never had any suspicion until about a month before when he saw glances across the room- but it turned out it wasn’t just his birthday outing they’d been planning.

Then this girl had come along with her warmth and rusted the iron, getting it worn and cracked until there was a Y/N shaped hole for her to fill. She was understanding of his somewhat snarky nature, never took it personally and had stuck by him even when he’d tried to push her away.

There had only been one time when he had been somewhat successful and it made his stomach twist and chest ache when he thought about it. It was far earlier on In their friendship, a few weeks in actually. She’d caught him on a bad day, coming up to him outside with her chatterbox open and running asking if he wanted to go to the cafe with him and that she had a surprise- and he’d snapped at her. He’d been rougher with his words than he meant to, honest, but he wanted to be alone and said as much in a not as nice manner. He’d watched her shoulders drop and the sparkle quite literally leave her eye as she looked towards the ground with a nod as even then when he least deserved it, she tried to be understanding.

Something in him cracked when he heard the slight quiver in her voice when she apologized for being annoying and he’d looked up to see tears in those eyes and… fuck. His stomach dropped to his feet, watching her bottom lip quiver as she reached into her bag and grabbed the candy bar she’d grabbed from the vending machine after her class had ended, handing it to him before she scurried off. It was clear she hadn’t been tearing up for attention from how quickly she had left him, and with a candy bar in hand he felt completely nauseous over how he’d treated her.

He couldn’t shake the feeling even as he gathered his things and called out for her, throat thick as his bad day got worse only by his own accord. Her lack of presence was felt, coldness settling in his bones when he realized what he’d truly done. It was then that he vowed to never treat her like that again. Y/N had been the sweetest thing in the world to him, got him his fucking favorite candy and was excited to study with him and he’d gone and fucked it all up. Made her fucking cry. She’d been long gone by the time he stumbled back into the pathway but he was already trying to make it right.

In the end he had showed up at her door with a teddy bear in hand along with her favorite candy and some take away, feeling like a kicked puppy as she opened her door and he had seen her swollen eyes and lips. It had been the most heartbreaking thing he ever saw and he apologize profusely when she let him in even when he didn’t deserve it, hugging her on his own accord for the first time and running fingers through her hair as she insisted she forgave him. ‘Everyone has those days and I’m sensitive, I know.’ Is what she said.

Some days even still he thought about that as he watched people take advantage of her and it made him even more motivated to take care of her.

In these sort of moments it felt hard not to think about loving her. Even in his rough and tumble sort of persona, she treated him tenderly. Held his arm, brushed his hair back, fixed his tangled necklaces, Y/N had treated him with a delicacy that he didn’t know he needed.

As soon as the makeup wipe was pulled away, he opened his eyes and cupped her cheek to pull her in for a kiss. It had already been hard to keep his lips to himself, but this situation… it was his new obsession. “You know you’re perfect, right?” He asked against his current addiction, pressing another kiss to them. “Just… I dunno how you always know how to say the right shit. It scares me sometimes, y’know? Sometimes it feels too good to be true, that you… that you’re some sorta dream, but you’re not. And now you’ve told me you’re mine, and M’really fucking nervous about fucking it up but I’m going to do everything I can to be the best for you. Alright?”

The emotion had slipped off his tongue without his permission but for one of the first times in his life he didn’t regret it. Her lips curled against his in that breathtaking smile he adored, tossing the wipe to the side as she wrapped an arm around his neck. “Harry… I don’t expect perfection. I know relationships… they take time to build. You aren’t some sort of build-a-boyfriend to me. I like you because you’re you. I like the grumpy, sarcastic, scowly bits of you. I always have. You’ll fuck up, I’ll fuck up, it’ll be a whole thing and then guess what?” Pulling back, she took in his face with her soft gaze. “We’ll fix it up again and it’ll be stronger. As long as you don’t cheat on me? I’m yours. And we both know you really aren’t capable of that.”

Harry would rather saw his hand off than cheat. He’d seen what it had done to him, so putting anyone else through that would be disgusting on top of hating the concept to begin with. He’d cut off people he knew for cheating on their partners and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. “M’glad you know.” He sighed. In a weird way, this talk was making him aroused. Hearing how she liked him, that she knew they’d work, it just… it did something to him. “You look perfect in my clothes.” That too. Yeah, that had something to do with the thickening happening in his pants.

“I like wearing them. I always have. I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a while, you know.” She teased, leaning into his body and letting her tits press up against him as she kissed his jaw lightly. “It always made me feel like yours when you let me wear them.”

“You’ve been mine.” The dark grumble of his voice was a telltale sign that the words had pleased him. “Regardless of title, you’ve been mine for a while.” It was true and the both of them knew it. Harry’s eyes had been blind to anything but her for a long time and it had been painfully obvious when he hadn’t been able to get it up for other people not too long after meeting her. Or had to think about her in order to nut off.

“I know.” The confirmation was warm as she felt his hand travel down to rest above her ass. “And I was hoping you’d been mine for a bit but I’m pretty sure I was. You like to talk when you’re getting head, huh?” The smile was teasing and maybe he should be flushed at that but it was just another layer of arousal for him to remember her on her knees with his cock tucked between puffy lips and drool down her pretty chin.

“No, actually. Jus’ with you.” He said truthfully. “I was… more of a hit it and quit it with the other people if m’honest. Know I babbled a bit but it felt really fucking good.” They could both feel he was hard now and the awkwardness of the last encounter on his end was gone. “Never expected you to be filthy, though. Thought you’d be a bit more shy but… I like that you were gagging for it just as much as I was.” Over the fabric of his shirt he gripped her ass, a nice handful as he squeezed and watched her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you properly. I’ve been dying to taste you,’to feel you. But I need t’know what you like.”

“A bit of leather and lace.” Was the answer. Long lashed eyes peered up at him as she tipped her head back to look at him. “Sweet and spice. Nice and mean. Be sweet to me and call me a slut again. Spank me and kiss it better. That’s what… it’s what I’ve always imagined with you.” Her words were slightly more hesitant now but she didn’t back down. “You can be a little rough with me as long as you baby me later. I’ve never been…” she paused for a moment as she bit her lip. “I’ve never been fucked right. People treat me like I’m some delicate little toy which, I can be and I like sometimes but… I’ve always known you’d be able to give me the deep one I want. The type to make me lose my breath. Right?” Her fingers curled around his wrist that still rested on her cheek and trailed it down to have his hand rest against her throat. “You can throw me around a bit and make me take it. I can still be a doll for you, but maybe one you use a little bit.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Harry’s mouth was torn between being dryer than the desert and watering down his chin at her descriptors of what she wanted. His hands held her ass and her throat and she was handing herself over on a silver platter as his cock twitched in between them, eager to get to work on her. “Fuck me…” he whispered hoarsely, thumbing over the side of her neck before giving a tiny squeeze. Just a bit, watching her face as he did so. She melted almost immediately and it was then he got the confirmation that she'd been hand crafted for him. Eyes glazed over and a weak, precious whine escaping her mouth and vibrating against the hand covering her throat, he couldn’t hold himself back from kissing her hard. Gathering her as close as possible with his hand keeping its grip for half the kiss before releasing it and using it as a guide to keep her close. “You’re going to ruin me, and M’gonna love every fucking second of it.”

—-

It had happened quite quickly. The buzz of the oven interrupted them, the only reason Harry even slightly entertained it was so he didn’t burn the place down. He had been quick to toss them on the counter and lost the oven not before picking her up and bringing her into his bedroom.

“If I died right now, I’d be okay.” He whispered as he looked at her bare cunt. The panties had been discarded and his lips kissed her inner thighs, nosing over the sensitive skin and watching her react to him. “You’re so gorgeous. Smell so fucking good, Butterfly. Gonna have t’tear me away from this pussy.” It was not a joke.

Kissing over the mound, he spread her open and gave a long lick over the expanse of her slight and yeah- yeah. He was addicted. Licking deeper into her, he felt himself melt into a frenzied version of himself as he let his tongue explore her. Fingers buried in his hair as she gripped him, stomach jumping as she panted at the feeling of his mouth on her.

Harry had enjoyed giving head before, was no stranger to eating pussy, but this was different. There had never been this all encompassing need to make her cum over and over again on his tongue, that greed that settled in his gut as he heard her moan his name and spread her legs further for him. Welcoming him and his touch.

He didn’t hold back. Y/N had told him what she wanted and he knew her well enough now to understand.

“Sweet.” He mumbled against her. “So fuckin’ sweet. Course you are, Butterfly. Fuckin’ perfect, every inch.” Kissing her clit he felt her jump, chuckling as he did it again before licking over the sensitive pearl. “M’gonna make you cum on my tongue, and then M’gonna give you the fuck you needed. I’ll be so nice to you, baby. So sweet, get you nice and fucked out the way you need. Promise.”

Harry was going to fulfill that promise. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he gave soft, pulsing suckles as he slipped a finger inside of her and felt her hips buck off the bed.

It was only a introduction, a sneak peek of what he’d feel around his cock but he had to remind himself not to blow too early as he felt her clenched around his digit. Tight and hot and silky against his hand, he groaned against her cunt and nuzzled deeper into it as he settled in.

“H-Harry… oh my god.” She sighed out, slowly grinding against his face. “Oh my god, you… you’re so good at this. I’ve never….” Never came from this, which was something that pissed him off when he put the pieces together but he knew he’d wear the title of the first one to be successful proudly. Ideally, no one else would ever have it again. He had no plans on giving this obsession up.

He hummed against her, meeting her eyes as she looked down at him with her messy hair and her bitten lips, mouth opened in the cutest little ‘o’ shape and her brows furrowed. Her clit was throbbing against his tongue and he couldn’t get enough, sucking a bit harder as he added a second finger inside of her.

“Oh fuck, oh- just like that. Your fingers are big.” She whimpered, making him chuckle against her. Of course they were compared to her own. He had imagined that exact thing in this bed, imagining her in her own room with her fingers stuffed inside her drippy cunt and his name peeling off hers lips as she made herself orgasm.

Making himself pull back, he fucked his fingers into her and enjoyed every bit of the noise it made. He’d made her wet like this, he’d gotten her to be a sopping mess and he enjoyed every single second of feeling it on his fingertips. “I know, baby. But my cock is much bigger and I need to get you prepped for it. You’re plenty wet…” he purred, leaning over her and keeping her eyes as he pursed his lips and spit right over her clit. “Just need to make you cum and you’ll be nice n’ready for me.”

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation as he went back in, spreading his spit with his tongue before returning to his motions. He could feel it in her actions, how she clenched around his fingers, pulling her clit into his mouth over and over again as she got more and more wet around his fingers with difficulty not bucking into him.

“I want it, I need it. I’ve been thinking a-about it for so long. I need you to fuck me, H.” Her voice was different than he’d ever heard it. More whiny, a tinge of desperation to the sweet sound he was obsessed with, and every bit of hot as he knew it would be.

“I will, baby. Promise. Jus’ let go for me. I can feel you’re close.” He coaxed, curling his fingers just so and watching as her head fell back against the duvet as his lips continued the pull of her clit.

It was hotter than he could’ve imagined. When she came a few minutes later, he watched her hand grip his hair and the other her own breast as she let out the prettiest noises and whines of his name as she trembled, hips bucking again into his mouth as she tumbled over the edge.

He held her steady with a happy noise, pulling off her clit with one last soft suckle and a kiss but kept his fingers inside of her as he moved back up her body to kiss her mouth. She welcomed it, both hands grabbing his face and not minding the mess she made on his chin and nose from his healthy exploration of her. Mumbled of praised were echoed between their kisses, slow pumps of his fingers working her through the orgasm as she rocked her hips into his hand.

“Harry, I need it.” Her eyes met his. “I’m clean, I just- I need it, I need you inside me now.” Her neediness wasn’t something he’d been privy to before and it was more than satisfying, but he had to admit that what made him feel even better was knowing she wanted to go bare. He’d

Gotten tested just a few weeks ago at his appointment which was a bit of serendipity, he supposed, because now he was going to get what he had been stroking off to the most.

“Yeah? Y’sure?” He whispered, watching her nod as he slowly pulled his fingers from her cunt and quickly cupped over it, soothing her. “You’re a dream. Y’know that, baby?” A laugh of disbelief echoed from his chest as he slowly pulled his hand back and slipped his pants off. His shirt had been tossed in the midst of things and he wanted hers off too, even if the idea of fucking her in his tee shirt was appealing. Later.

She was receptive to it, letting him tug it off and exposing her to him again.

He had to take a moment to simply enjoy her.

Harry had always appreciated how beautiful she was but he also had to take a second to be thankful that she let him see her at her most vulnerable. That he got to see her in the most delicate state, one he was going to be the only one to see. Spread thighs and bare tits and soft tummy, all his. His, his, his.

“M’so happy you’re mine.” He whispered, running a hand over her stomach as his other fisted his cock. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Not jus’ your body but your whole being. And I hope you know how much it means t’me that you’re letting me be yours too.” It hit him then, watching her peer up at him. He was being entrusted with a damn near golden heart and there were no plans on doing anything but cherishing it.

“H…” she whispered, motioning him to come to her. He did, as he always will, buttoning their lips together as he nudged his tip through her wet slit and felt her sigh, wrapping her legs around his hips. “You are perfect. I adore you and- and I’m happy you’re letting me be yours too. You make me feel so good in all the ways possible and I just want to be as close as I can get.”

There was no room left for debate.

He began to push into her, watching her face as he filled her. It was slow at first, letting himself pace themselves considering he knew very early on that this would have to be a multiple round night because there was no way he’d be satisfied with just one. Y/N had been the object of his affections for a long while now and finally getting to be with her in the way he’d craved had lit him up.

“There we are…” he whispered as he was fully inside of her. “You feel so good on me, Butterfly.” A kiss pressed to her lips, slow rocking into her for the beginning of this. The man fully intended to give her what she wanted but the first few moments would be tender and soft, show a true appreciation of her. The soft yellow light of his lamp next to his bed lit up the side of her face, shadows across the other side. Her hand held his bicep and the other on the back of his neck as she let out a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed kisses all over her face.

It was a high, feeling her heat on him. She was everywhere, capturing every bit of him yet again. Tugging him deeper into a trap he had no plans on escaping from. The slow rocking of their hips garnered a hitch in her breath, still sensitive from her orgasm moments ago but taking in every moment she could. Every second felt special and precious.

“You don’t even know….” He breathed. “Don’t even know how much I think about this. Made me feel like a perv for a bit, seeing you in my shirt last week… then you crawled into my lap and you ruined me.” It was hard to keep it from spilling out. “I couldn’t run anymore from how you m-make me feel. And then y’put your mouth on me, near begged to, made me feel fucking crazy. I’ve been waiting all week to get my hands on you again… but this is the best day.” The fact that she was officially his and she was holding on to him, letting out a sweet sigh as he began to pull out the slightest bit and pushed back in.

“I thought about it too.” She admitted, though it felt hard to talk. “I wanted this and-and I wanted you and m’so happy right now.” Her eyes watered a bit and fuck, fuck, fuck. He cooed, shaking his head as he kissed her again. His sweet girl, crying because she had wanted him just as much as he had wanted her.

“M’yours, Butterfly. All yours, and… M’not gonna let you go. Promise. You can have me as many times, as many days, as you want.” The man doubted that she’d ever truly understand how much this meant to him, how much she meant to him. That she’d look past his shitty attitude and stuck by him long enough to see the real parts, the softer ones. Hell, she made him want a relationship when he had never thought he’d want one again.

Harry was unequivocally hers, body and heart.

It stayed slow for a while, deep kisses and soft moans, but he could feel her start to get restless. He was very aware of part of his appeal to her- the rough and tumble. So when he felt her start to squirm, he took her throat again and held her back down, keeping his slow pumps as he watched her eyes hood and a soft mewl fall from her lips as she clenched around his cock. “Impatient girl. You’re tryin’ to rush me, hm?” He whispered, squeezing the sides of her throat momentarily. “I told you I’d fuck you right. But I wanted to appreciate you, make you feel how much I adore you. Is that not enough for my girl?”

Y/N shook her head, panting as her legs tightened around his waist. “M’sorry. I’m not trying to rush you, promise. I just feel so good n’I want more.”

“Of course she does. Pretty little doll wants some more.” He crooned, clicking his tongue. “Being stuffed to the brim and stretching that tiny cunt isn’t enough for you. You told me about this, warned me. Told me you liked a bit of both.” Pulling out a bit more, he slid back in with a bit of force that caught her breath. “So you’re tired of being my sweet girl… you want to be a whore?”

There was something about the delicacy in the way he said it, the way it was silky and smooth and so unlike how the word would usually be delivered that had her moaning out loud. He was so, so nice to her and she loved it but it was clear she needed some more. Thankfully she had come to the right place.

“Okay, okay. You want t’be a cute little slut. I see how it is, my darling.” He grinned, containing the slightly rougher pace. “Jus’ let me look at this gorgeous face a bit longer, and then I’ll flip you on your hands and knees so you can bury your face into the bed while I make you cum.”

Harry had a hard time controlling himself knowing that she wanted to be roughed up. His angelic Y/N, wanted to be pounded out into the mattress. The original thought was that he’d have to work her up to that and see if she liked it, maybe a spank or two, but here she was. Gushing on her cock from the mere mention of being fucked harder.

“Do you want me to spank that pretty ass?” He questioned, listening to the squelch of her cunt with each pass inside of her. His personal heaven. “Make it hot? How much do you want, Butterfly?”

“I want anything.” She promised. “Please spank me and- and choke. I want to feel it tomorrow.” It was apparent now that she really did crave it, bucking into his thrusts and getting wetter the harder he got. He was going to have such a good time learning her body. How it ticked, what got her off, what made her squirm. It was a whole new facet to their relationship that he was giddy to explore.

“I’ll give you anything you want, my gorgeous girl.” He promised. “Make the prettiest fuck doll out of you.”

Harry kept his promise.

Y/N squealed as he pulled out, flipping her over and hissed at his hands spreading each side of her ass open. “Look at you… you piece of art.” He sighed. “M’gonna mark this canvas up. Never imagined bruising you before but… what my girl wants, she gets.”

The first spank was a quick one, making her yelp as he stuffed himself back into her needy hole. It was exposing her, letting him have access to her cunt and ass and it was obviously exhilarating from how she clenched before pushing back into him for more. “You liked it.” The man smirked, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands. “We’re going to get on perfectly in the bedroom, aren’t we Butterfly?”

From there, Harry let loose. Keeping a hand on her hip and the other holding her ass, giving swats to the skin as he fucked into her deep and thorough. He watched in awe as her ass rippled every time it met his thighs, the sound of skin slapping and her whimpers filling his bedroom. Her cunt was hot and so fucking wet he was surprised he hadn’t slipped out yet, creamy and soft but keeping him in tight.

He’s heard Y/N babble before, but all she could come up with was whimpers and whines of his name, more, and again when he smacked the round of her ass. It was unexpected, but he was eating up every single movement, every noise she squeaked out. It felt incredible to know he was the one doing it. He had been the one to make her lose that soft shell and got deep into the underbelly, literally and metaphorically, burying deep inside of her with each tuck. “That’s my girl, taking it so well. I adore you, y’know that?” He cooed. “Love this hot cunt. Think M’gonna stay inside of it for a while, what do you think?” There was no answer but a punched out breath from his cock. “Mmm… I think so too. You did say you wanted t’be my whore.” The tone was slightly condescending but it was evident quickly that she reacted well to that.

For all the time he’d been thinking about this, reality was much sweeter. With her taste on his tongue and her arousal smeared all over his cock and forming a creamy ring around the base of his cock with each squelching fuck into her needy and willing hole, he couldn’t have imagined something better. Something so unfiltered and raw, going bare inside his candy sweet girl who had overtaken his life.

What really set her off, though, was his fingers tucking under her and finger her slippery and swollen clit, rubbing over it firmly, she moaned loud and clear, panting into the air as she clumsily grabbed his wrist as if to keep it there. Like he’d pull it away. “I see it baby, I feel it. You jus’ needed that clit played with. You’re gonna cum for me.” He breathed in an amazed chuckle. “Gonna cum all over my cock so I can fill you to the brim and keep you full and warm.”

Y/N didn’t need much more than that. His cock in her tummy and his fingers at her clit, ass burning slightly from his swats. He felt it the moment it began, the fluttering around his prick and her hitch of breath as she got his name falling from her mouth and the slight tense of her body before she fell apart on him.

The prettiest sight he’d ever seen in his life. It was then that he swore he’d do his best to see it as many times as he possibly could, which would be a blessing or a curse depending on what the girl underneath him thought of overstimulation.

Which was why even as he growled out, spilling into the perfect cunt that milked him, he kept thrusting. Slow and sloppy now, feeling his load dripping from her and onto the bed, he continued with his fingers on her clit as she squirmed. His cock fucked the cum right into her, massaging it into her walls as he kissed her skin. “‘Nother one. Gimme another one, my baby. Show me how much y’love being my sweet little whore.”

The sensitivity was probably to blame with how fast the second one came, shaking slightly as she let out the weakest whine of his name before pushing his hand away. Even though he could’ve done it over and over, he hummed and listened to her cue, turning them onto their sides and kept himself snug inside of her. He’d clean her up in a bit, bring her to the shower, make sure she was fed her cinnamon rolls, but for a little bit he wanted to bask in the bliss of having a dream come true.

“S’okay, Butterfly. I’ve got you.” He nudged his nose against her neck, placing another chaste kiss there as she folded their fingers together. “Now you can fly home to me.”

—-

It was far too late for cinnamon rolls if a normal person had any say, but thankfully they didn’t. Y/N sat on the counter with her hair placed back into that messy updo and his shirt on her torso while he had been convinced to wear his boxers while in the kitchen, dipping the microwave reheated cinnamon rolls in the icing.

“I’ve got to teach you how to make them from scratch.” His girl sighed, kicking her feet as they dangled off the counter.

“What, is my store bought hot food enough for you?” He pouted in faux offense, but luckily she didn’t fall for it.

“You know that’s not the case. I love that you buy me some to have when I’m here.” A sugary kiss was given to his bottom lip, but she pulled away too fast to deepen it. A shame if you asked him. “It’s just, y’know, it would be fun to do together. There’s plenty of time to… hang out while the dough rises, and stuff like that.”

Harry’s brows shot up at the insinuation, the unexpected laugh barking through the kitchen as he lowers his half ripped cinnamon roll to the plate. “I’ve created a little monster, haven’t I?” The shit eating from on his face showed no sign of regret, though. “One fuck and I’ve corrupted you. Sweet little thing turned into a needy pup in heat.” He paused before pointing a finger smeared with cinnamon sugar on it in her face. “Or have I just uncovered something that was in front of my face this whole time? Innocent act?”

Y/N answered by leaning forward to take his finger into her mouth, sucking on it slowly and flicking her tongue over the tip before pulling back on it.

There was no doubt now he’d found his perfect match, even if it was his complete opposite. Maybe they weren’t as different as he thought.

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #leather and lace #harry styles au #harry styles fluff

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venusbby · 2 years ago

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characters/pairings: itoshi sae x reader

warnings: fluff. the reader is an avid reader lmao so funny. sort of clingy sae? annoyed sae? just sae. maybe ooc too but idrc.

note: self indulgent because i've been reading this one book nonstop for the past week and can't think of anything else. wondered how sae would act with a reader who likes to read a lot like me lol this is lowkey bad forgive me sorry for typos

🌊 summary: sae starts to get annoyed because you won't stop reading your book. (and also because you won't give him your attention, but that's a secret— that isn't as well kept as he thinks it is.)

"y/n," sae muttered. he watched you with a glare, noticing how you had heard him clearly yet still ignored him, continuing to smile to yourself with your bottom lip between your teeth. he rolled his eyes, trying again, this time resting his hand on your thigh. his fingers impatiently tapping against the soft skin.

"y/n."

no response. you even giggled as you read the lines in that book you had been attached to all day long. that little 600 page romance book that entertained you so much more than he could— what the hell was it even about?

sae knew you loved books. you visited the library nearby almost every week, and he couldn't even decide if it was because the lady there was so nice to you or because you wanted to get away from him. there was no way he was that boring, right?

it was always sae who accepted all your amazon packages for the books that hadn't yet arrived in the library— and although the sight of your excited smile when he told you it was finally here was something, he never understood the hype at all.

why would he, when his sport was his all-time focus? books weren't ever as exciting to him as they were to you. so as long as you got any and every book you wanted (he made sure of that) he was alright.

but right now, sae had this urge to hide all your books from you.

especially this one.

because it stole you from him.

sae was annoyed. and he was even more annoyed that he started to think about hiding your books away from you like a madman, because it's fucking embarrassing that he's going borderline insane just because you haven't talked or even looked at him for the past two hours. and he's been in bed next to you this whole time.

he cursed under his breath and subtly thrashed around under the covers like a child who didn't get the toy he wanted. he shifted closer to you in the midst of his little quiet tantrum. "y/n. look at me."

"yeah?"

when you finally looked at him, it was as if he'd found oxygen.

and he hated it even more. why was he like this for you?

but then you went back to that book.

that stupid fucking book. again.

sae was going to cry.

fuck no, he wasn't. he won't. not ever. that's lame. so lame.

whatever. if you liked your book that much, maybe he should find something else to do too, he decided.

he turned around with his back to you and shut his eyes.

and then he heard another sigh. a dreamy one, at that.

"alright, enough. give me that." he jumped up from his sleeping position, grabbing the book from your hands. he didn't even know how to properly hold a book, but he didn't find it in himself to care as he shut it close, a breath of relief escaping from his mouth just as you started to whine.

"sae, no," you struggled, trying to get the book back, but you knew better than to fight against your boyfriend who was glaring at you like that with his lips pressed in a sad, thin line. his hair was still a little damp from the shower he took while you were just into the first 60 pages of the book. he swept his hair back, setting the book beside him, where you couldn't reach— atleast not without getting through him.

"i was almost done," you said slowly, trying your best to explain now that you were out of that world. "i promise, just gimme it now 'n i'll finish the first part in just 20 minutes."

sae scoffed. "fucking no."

he stared at the book placed near his side, literally judging it by its cover. "what's in this that has you giggling so much? some dude?"

you gasped, dramatically. "okay, he is not some dude. he is my husband."

"oi," sae groaned, things still not getting better for him even after that book had been closed and put away from you. "i'm sleeping next to you shirtless, and you've been giggling with your book husband?"

"you're always shirtless, though."

"that doesn't fucking matter." he retorted, huffing and looking to the side, chin up. you pursed your lips, placing a soft hand on his back, and leaning closer to leave a kiss on his shoulder. he always smelled so nice. he shook you off.

"baby, my sweet sae, if you wanted me to stop reading, you could have just said so." you smiled, watching him run another hand through his hair, his fingers pulling on his roots this time.

"first of all, i don't want your attention." he said blankly, finally looking at you. "and second, you ignored me when i said your name. guess you were too busy with your husband."

you laughed quietly, incredibly amused. about an hour ago, you were actually expecting sae to go back to sleep after showering— but for some reason, you were glad he didn't. this new side of him was so adorable that you never wanted it to end.

you sighed, lying back down, urging him to do the same. he listened as you explained, with you on your side facing him. "you know, i love this book a lot."

"i can see that."

so snarky. you resisted the urge to kiss his slightly puffed out cheek.

"it's really romantic. it's about the relationship of this newly married couple, how it develops day by day, and it's so cute. the main guy— my 'husband', is so good to the main character."

sae raised an eyebrow lazily, still opting to look at the ceiling and didn't respond. you weren't going to gain his attention this easily after that.

you went on. "and this guy reminds me of you. like, you guys are similar to an unhealthy extent. and the reason i was so invested in it was because there was a particular scene where things got a little hot."

"so?" he asked, still not convinced.

your cheeks were reddened from embarrassment. "so, whenever he said or did something, i thought of you. and that is why i was giggling."

sae turned to look at you. his eyes looked much more focused on your lips. he had forgotten how much he missed the feeling of kissing you. again, feeling another annoying pang in his heart because seriously, it had just been two hours. he had to stop acting like you'd been away for days.

"so basically you were having sex with 'book me' in your mind."

"oh god, no!"

"that's exactly it."

"you're so wrong."

"shut up, i'm right."

you groaned, covering your face with your palms and closing your eyes. you felt sae's arm slowly trailing around your stomach, him shifting closer until you could feel his breath fanning against your neck. you giggled out of nervousness and embarrassment, both. "that was not what was happening, okay?"

his lips twitched slightly at your state. "you know i'm way better than him."

"...are you, though?" you peeked one eye open, dragging out your words, guilty. fictional men were just different—

"ah, do you need proof?" he said, a smug look on his face as he began hovering over you. your laugh echoed through the room as you smacked his chest playfully, your arms going around his neck to pull him down on top of you.

"i don't need proof, thank you very much." you said softly with another laugh, letting sae rest his head on your chest. "but i wanna make it up to you for ignoring you. im sorry, my sae. i'll be better. you were just really cute."

"don't do it again," he said, staring up at you from his comfortable position. "or else you might have to go back to your 'husband'."

"i won't really mind— wait, baby, don't go! i was joking!"

taglist: @hyomagiri @yoimyas @beanxiv @hqfeatbetty @shuvvloverrr 🤞🤪

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pdflayn · 7 months ago

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Tip-Toe (1.8k)

Lando Norris x Reader !

summary : you and lando had lunch at lando's family house

tags: smut !! p in v, unprotected sex, f receiving, fingering, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, degradation & praise kink, a bit of slapping.

note: AFTER A LONG TIME FINALLY HAD THE CHANCE TO WRITE AGAINN

It was a normal Sunday morning inside Lando’s condo as the both of you are snuggled up under his sheets. Another race week is approaching and he will be flying to Canada on Tuesday so you really want to spend most of your waking days in Lando’s arms while he’s still here in the UK.

“Good morning, baby.” You hear your boyfriend mumble with his morning voice which is often very cute to hear. You leaned in to his side to give him a quick kiss on the cheek in which he returned in the form of a hug, making you his little spoon like you always were. “What do you want for breakfast?” You asked as you melted into his embrace. Moments like this made Lando’s head spin, it feels unreal that he’s beside a literal angel.

“Can you be one of the choices?” You immediately turned around and slapped him lightly in the chest and gave him your irritated stare which he only laughed at. “God, Lan, it’s too early.”

“Eggs and toast then, is that an option?” You nodded as a response and kissed him one last time before standing up and fixing your side of the bed. You went out of the bedroom and straight to the kitchen to cook breakfast for the both of you. Soon enough you heard footsteps coming closer to you along with hands wrapping around you from behind.

“Mom wants to have lunch with us later, do you feel like going?” he whispers as he rests his head on your shoulder, hiding his head to the crook of your neck leaving a little kiss. “Sure, why not? I miss your mom, we don’t get to talk much anymore.”

“I’m pretty sure she misses her favorite daughter too.” Lando jokes before placing a kiss on your cheek. He removed himself from you and sat himself down at the kitchen table as you served breakfast. The both of you ate in complete chaos because there’s never a dull day with Lando Norris, never.

“What do you think? Do I look good?” You said as you stepped out of his walk-in closet with a cute orange sundress. “Or does the skim dress look better?” Lando looked at you in awe, he always does. “You look great in both, even better without it.” You shook your head with Lando’s response, you couldn’t help but smile with it as well.

You decided to go with the sundress and a cute little purse to match with your outfit and flat sandals. The drive was quite short since there was no traffic and his parent’s house wasn't far away as well. To be honest, their house is somewhat your home now, since you were a child you would always go there as your mother arranged playdates with Lando and some other kids. As a teenager you would always come around to help Lando with his studies to make it less of a burden for his career and in return he would give you tickets to your favorite concerts. And then there goes the dating phase, their family would always invite yours for dinner and even during events and holidays. You were all just one big family and nothing makes you even happier than that.

“There you are! We’ve been waiting for the both of you to show up. Come sit!” Lando’s mom said as she opened the door for us. Turns out we were the ones left to arrive and the food was already served. “I hope the both of you are hungry, I accidentally cooked a whole feast.”

The lunch was going smoothly but knowing Lando, he would always have something that screams trouble. It’s imprinted to his whole existence. You can’t look at this man and tell yourself he’s not going to cause trouble because one way or another, he always will.

He took off his shoe on one foot and was aiming for your thigh since the both of you sat on opposite sides facing each other. But instead of your thigh, he touched something else which made the both of you surprised. Making you choke on your food and making people stare at you, so you reply with an “I’m okay.”

As soon as everyone finished eating, you stood up and went straight to Lando’s room, still a bit flushed with what happened and a bit hilarious because Lando never really pulls up things like what he did just a moment ago. Soon enough, Lando appears inside the room, smiling from ear to ear like a kid. You lightly slapped him in the cheek, “So what, are we toe-fucking now?” You asked and the both of you bursted out laughing.

“We can if you want to?” Lando giggled as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I think I prefer your tip rather than your toe.” Lando smiled at your response, “Good answer, love.”

With his hands still on your waist, he guided you to his bed, laying you down as he crawled on top of you. He kissed you feverishly, the both of you fighting for dominance waiting for someone to give in. and that someone was you as you felt pressure caused by his knee on your pussy. Your mouth went wide open as a low moan was heard from you making Lando grin. He knows how much he affects you. “You need to be quiet, baby, or mom will hear us. Wouldn’t want her to think her favorite daughter-in-law is such a slut don’t we?” You squirmed at his words.

You arched your back from all the overstimulating sensations caused by Lando. Your chest touching his, it pushed Lando to his edge. He held your hips tightly making you wince as he switched your position. You were now straddling his lap as he sat down. He guided you at his erection, making you grind your hips slowly as you feel him with your aching pussy.

His hands roamed around your body, tracing every part of you as he slowly took off your sundress. His hands went in to cup your cheek, you were all flushed, feeling all hot and needy. “God, you look so perfect.” he said before diving to your lips, kissing you roughly, biting each other’s lips until the taste of blood is evident. You felt his hand sneak inside your panties, playing with your wet folds. “You’re so wet, so wet for me.” He groaned at the feeling of you clenching at his fingers inside of you.

“Lan..” before you could even say anything, Lando leaned to you and shushed you. He added another finger, stretching you wider. You bit your lip as an attempt to be quiet but failed as he fastened his pace with his fingers inside of you. You gripped on the headrest of the bed for dear life as you started to tremble. You were almost at your peak until you felt emptiness as Lando pulled out his fingers.

You whined at the loss of touch from Lando. “Put it back, please.” You pleaded but Lando was playing deaf, only smiling at your request. He unclasped your bra, revealing your tits in which he delved on. His tongue flicking your nipple while his other hand playing with your other tit.

Lando switched your places once again, he's now on top of you. Kissing you from your lips down to your neck, leaving marks you will definitely struggle to hide soon enough. His kisses traced all the way down to your torso as he finally reached the hem of your panties. He looked at you like he was asking for permission and it made you giggle. This man literally just denied you of your first orgasm and had the guts to ask permission to take off your panties.

You nodded as a response to his request. And as soon as he did, he started kissing you from your inner thigh up to your slit. He blows cold air making you shiver from anticipation.

He started to give kitten licks on your folds, teasing your entrance with his tongue. Your hands locked in his curls as you try to shove his head down on you. Each flick of his tounge made you crazy, writhing in pleasure, not knowing what to hold and where to put yourself. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good.” Lando hummed as he continued to devour you. Hearing Lando eat you out with all the sensual noises the both of you makes you haywire. You can feel the build up of pleasure inside of you, your legs trembling once again.

“Damn it Lando!-” You hissed at him as he abruptly stopped, denying you of your orgasm which stressed you out. “You're such a dick-” You said to him as soon as he leveled with you but you were replied with a slap which made you form tears in your eyes. “Talk more like that and you won't be getting this dick, you hear me?” Lando said as he kissed the cheek he slapped.

He kneeled on top of you and removed every piece of fabric left on him and kissed you roughly. “Oh fuck, I wanna be inside you, baby. I wanna make you feel so good.” You moaned at his words as you felt him slowly entering inside you.

“Fuck- Lan-” He placed a hand on your mouth, covering your moans not because he doesn't want to hear them, oh god how he wanted to hear thos beautiful screams of yours, but this is a different situation. A more thrilling situation.

“Look at you taking me so well. It's such a shame I can't hear your pretty moans.” He said as he applied pressure on your lower abdomen, doubling the pleasure you felt. It was a surprise to you how you could hold your screams from everything that Lando has been doing to you.

“Lan- Fuck! Please, I wanna-”

“You wanna cum? Go on baby, let it out, make a fucking mess.” And so you did. Clenching around him as you reach your peak makes him groan. He didn't stop, not even for a bit. He kept ramming inside of you, you felt him so deep inside of you.

You started trembling, sensitive all over your body, overstimulated. You started to cry which somehow made Lando more eager. “Lan- stop-” you whimpered but you didn't really mean it. You can feel another build up inside of you. “Come on, baby, one more. Cum with me?”

Heavy groans and low moans along with the sound of skin slapping against each other were the only things heard inside his room as both reached their highs. “I love you.” Lando whispers in your ear in which you replied with a hug as you felt all his weight on top of yours but still enough for you to not have trouble breathing.

“Let's go get you cleaned up.”

#layn archive !#f1 imagine #formula 1 fic #f1 smut #lando norris #lando norris smut #ln4 #ln4 smut #ln4 imagine

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callsignserpent · 6 months ago

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🇦🇹 König x Medic Reader Headcanons 🇦🇹

The whole ordeal was meant to start out innocently, believe it or not.

This giant boi had come walking into the medical bay after one particularly tough mission, sporting multiple lacerations across one arm and his face, along with a few bruises.

The way he'd sat there quietly as he waited for his turn, grumbling to himself in German, something about how he "doesn't need the hospital".

But when it was finally his turn and he'd seen you? Oh, this man was a goner, from the very beginning.

It was like a switch had been flicked, his whole demeanor changing in a snap.

Grumbling, stubborn 6'8" Austrian now becomes quiet, curiously observant patient.

"How did you get these?" you'd asked, gesturing to the cuts visible beneath the torn sections of his shirt.

"Die Mission verlief nicht gut", he'd simply responded in German, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You'd been with KorTac long enough to have picked up several fluent phrases here and there, so you sort of understood him. Kind of.

You'd told him you needed to clean the cuts and bruises, and like a good soldier, he'd sat there and taken it, only wincing once, when you'd gone to clean the cut along the edge of his jawline, visible beneath the torn, ragged section of his sniper hood.

"Es tut mir Leid..." you'd hastily apologized.

The utter look of shock that passed over König's face when he heard you speak his native tongue-!

"Du sprichst Deutsch?" he'd grunted, trying not to crack a smile, to which you'd nodded and held up a finger and thumb inches apart, indicating you spoke just a little.

He'd seemed almost thoughtfully quiet after that, sitting and watching you as you worked.

Once you were done, König had seemed almost.. disappointed? ...that the time had gone by too quickly.

You'd dismissed him quietly with a gentle smile, telling him he was welcome back any time if he needed something.

And you better believe this man took those words to heart, quite literally.

Because not even three days later, he was back again, this time for just a small series of scrapes he'd sustained along the backs of his knuckles, presumably from a tussle with someone else.

"Ich würde den anderen Kerl ungern sehen, ja?" you'd joked in broken German, upon which König had accidentally cracked a grin beneath his hood, before he'd corrected himself.

"Your German is getting better, maus..." he'd answered, his tone unusually soft that day.

The answering blush in your face that little nickname had produced, that was a look König would picture several times in his head later that night.

From that point on, he would make it his mission to call you cute little nicknames like "maus", "liebling", "meine lieb"...

He'd also make it a point to try and find some excuse or another to see you throughout the week.

"Colonel, it's just mild allergies."

"Colonel, you're not bleeding, it's fine. Nein, you don't need stitches. Ja, I'm sure."

To which he'd insist "König. Und ja, it'll get better faster if you look at it, liebling, bitte?"

Everyone on KorTac's base eventually noticed how their Colonel had become a frequent flyer to the infirmary, their hushed whispers sometimes being overheard.

"Surely he can't be getting hurt that often?" "Is he clumsy, or is it on purpose?" "Maybe it's just bad luck...?"

Little did they all know, you were the real reason he kept showing up.

You yourself were sort of oblivious the first couple of times, until you eventually caught on.

König would even wait until your shift was done for the day, trying to appear casual as he leaned against the doorway to the infirmary, having to duck down a little due to his monstrous height.

Sometimes he'd bring you little gifts too, little things you could keep at your work station, or take back to barracks with you.

(The little stuffed brown bear dressed in a nurse's uniform was your pride and joy, always sat on display at your desk.)

On a more serious note, there was only ever one time he had scared the living shit out of you, when he had gotten really hurt.

A few of KorTac's best had been sent out on a mission, and König had been among them. When he'd gotten back, it was... bad.

You'd never seen so much blood in your life, and you weren't even sure half of it was actually his.

You'd spent that entire night (and the next) looking after him, surviving off coffee and pure adrenaline just to stay awake for him.

And when he'd finally opened his eyes a day later, even his badly torn sniper hood couldn't hide the soft grin that lit up this man's face.

"Mein liebling, sie sind hier?"

The light swat you'd given him, combined with the way your eyes shone with unshed tears, his gaze would soften so fast.

"I thought I was gonna lose you, Kö..."

"Nein, meine kleine maus, Ich würde dich zu sehr vermissen." came his gentle reply.

From that point on, the two of you were nearly inseparable; wherever you went, he would follow, and vice versa.

It would eventually reach the point where if anyone would try and mess with you, they'd very quickly be warned not to fuck with "the Colonel's girl".

You'd rather liked the sound of that, perhaps a little more than you should.

Being König's favorite person, that wasn't so bad.. right?

💀 TAGLIST: @nixwolfe @konigsbeloved @konigsblog @konigslittleliebling @kghostly @konigsqueen @konig-brain-rot @your-booklover-gal @konig-breedme @konig-is-bbygrl @koenigsbleachedshirt

#konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #kortac #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #konig cod headcanons #konig headcanons #call of duty headcanons #konig fluff #konig x medic reader

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thewriterwithsnakes · 16 days ago

Note

could you write something for Ekko, literally anything except angst pls

The Ekko of A Violin

I'd love to! This is actually a mix of two asks for Ekko and I got a little carried away, enjoy!

@wallmayo asked for An ekko x female violinist reader who joins the firelights and they fall in love 🙏

I also kinda want to write more parts to this because it isn't super romantic yet, let me know if anyone wants more parts!

Summary: An undercity violinist hears about the firelights and wants to help, how will it pan out once she becomes acquainted with their devastatingly handsome leader?

Warnings: None really

The undercity was your home, no matter how rough it was. You grew up on the streets where people got robbed and maimed daily, it was a wonder you had survived it all.

But, there was one safe haven for you, an attic. When you were younger you discovered it, abandoned for the most part. The druggies downstairs were usually out or too high to even notice your presence so you found yourself coming back to the dusty room many nights, entertaining yourself with the things you discovered inside, forgotten like the room itself. One night you stumbled upon a smooth black case covered in a layer of dust. At first you thought it could be a weapon and you stayed weary of it. But over the next few days your curiosity got the better of you, and you opened it, brushing away the cobwebs and forgotten dreams.

Inside there had been an instrument, the case had kept it preserved and it also contained rosin and a bow. After that all your curious exploration of that attic fell away, outshined by your fascination with the challenge of figuring out this violin. It took you weeks up in that attic to not make your own ears bleed, but eventually, you started to get the hang of it. And once you got going, you couldn't stop. You played any music you could remember hearing, and when you didn't want to play that, you made it up as you went. Most of your teenage years were spent in a similar fashion, slinking through the streets and rooftops of the undercity to get to your refuge. When you played, the undercity melted away as you focused on each note, on the pitches and your techniques.

You figured that was how you survived the undercity without totally losing it like most people did. So when you found out about the firelights, the people who did their best to give a safe haven to people, you had to join. You wanted to help your home and it's people, and this was the perfect opportunity.

Growing up in the undercity made everyone rough around the edges and you were no exception. You'd had your share of struggle and you knew what to expect as a firelight in general. You met up with a firelight who would bring you to their mini oasis in this desert of depravation that Silco created, a desert he branded Zaun.

Upon arrival you saw quite a few people dressed quite similarly in what you presumed to be their armor. You bit your lip in nerves until your eyes laid upon the majestic tree infront of you. Sucking in a breath, you gazed in amazement at the wonderful world they created. It seemed like a whole different universe, so detached and different from the rest of the undercity. The only detail that wasn't was the mural that sprawled put across the base of the tree. It had some familiar and unfamiliar faces on it though you knew none personally. Your heart jumped at the idea of being able to live in a slice of this paradise, you weren't sure it could get any better and you couldn't wait to help.

You met Ekko your first day their, though you didn't know that. You didn't even know his name, which was purposeful on Ekkos part. You knew that name belonged to the firelights leader and he wanted to see how you acted when you didn't know. You had your violin case clutched tightly in your hand along with a small bag you packed, this would be your new home. As you bit your lip and tried suppressing a hopeful smile, a man approached you and your guide. He simply smiled and nodded at the firelight next to you who seemed to get some sort of message and left.

"Are all firelights telekinetic or is that just you?" You shot the man a joking smile in hopes that this environment would be kinder than the undercity. He let out a laugh that took your breath away.

"Not telekinesis, sugar, just mutual understanding" He shook his head in playful disappointment before turning and motioning for you to follow. "Come on, I'll show you to where you will stay,"

"Thanks, this place is certainly going to take some getting used to," You commented as you looked around, still a little starstruck at all of it. He led you to a small room with a simple bed and small dresser in it.

"Here is your luxury bedroom madam" He gave you a playful bow as he spoke in an attempted piltover accent. "Oh here m'lady let me handle your extensive luggage" He grabbed your bag and you couldn't help but snort.

"God that accent is terrible" You laughed and set your violin case down.

"Really?" He asked sarcastically. "I thought it was simply marvelous," The matter of fact attitude combined with the horrendous accent nearly had you doubling over laughing. He caught sight of your violin case and asked if you played. After a short quip back from you about how you just liked to stare at it combined with an eyeroll, you laughed and and said yes. He asked if you would like to play for the firelights occasionally, to help boost moral. You deliberated for a moment, you hadn't really played for other people before, but you had come here to help, right?

"Sure, why not?" You smiled and he was clearly happy to get that answer.

"Alright well I'll see you around," He stepped back and swung your door open to step backwards out onto the balcony that led to the stairs.

"Wait, I didnt catch your name!" You took a quick step towards him.

"I didnt get yours either, sugar," He winked and stepped back off the balcony and you let out a short scream. He appeared in the air on a hoverboard-like contraption with a smug smirk on his handsome face before he sped off into the night. You were left standing on your balcony, speechless, and for the first time in a long time, looking forward instead of backward.

#arcane ekko #arcane #ekko #ekko arcane #ekko x reader #firelights #ekko x you #violinist #i have no idea what im doing #i dont play violin

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usagiarchive · 14 days ago

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love. — jing yuan x reader.

나의 작은 마음도, 그 안에 작은 파도처럼, 부서지고 밀려와선, 네게 녹아내리고, 그제서야 보이는 나의 영원.

sypnosis. [ 1.1k words. fluff + sfw. ] — the usual weekend trip with your lover turns into an unexpected, but welcome surprise.

usagi's note: àirén - my love (or quite literally the person i love) xīngān - darling, heart, or my humanity

“Are you ready to go?”

You nod as he reaches out to take your hand carry for you, giving him your hand as he lets you step into the starskiff first.

It had been tradition, since the two of you started dating, that every weekend, you would have a date night, every two weeks, a whole day together, doing whatever, as long as you spent it with each other, and every three months, you would go on a weekend trip.

This was established to work around both your busy schedules, with you working as a full time healer in the Alchemy Commission and with him always at the Seat of Divine Foresight.

This weekend, he was the one to choose this time and he decided to take a drive to an island beach four system hours away from the Luofu.

As soon as you took off, your lover made sure you were comfy and okay.

“You should take a nap,” he tells you, “I'll get us there, besides, I know you took Li Meng’s graveyard shift last night,”

The tone of his voice betrays little, but you know he's scolding you for putting others before yourself again.

“I know, I know, her daughter had a fever and no one could take care of Xiao Ying,” you say, snuggling into the soft, fluffy blanket he draped over you the moment you were buckled in.

“Sleep, Àirén,” he leans in to give you a kiss on your forehead, “I'll wake you when we're there,”

He does not wake you up.

Or maybe he did and you didn't get up, because the moment you open your eyes again, you're already settled into the bed of the villa he rented.

You hear him tinkering away with something in a different room, so you get up and look for him.

You find him in the walk in closet fiddling with both your clothes and putting them up in hangers.

Quietly, you sneak up on him and hug him from behind.

You feel him chuckle, “How's your sleep, my love?” he asks as he puts his hand on top of yours and draws circles on it.

“Had a really good nap,” you rasp, “Why didn't you wake me up?”

He detaches and turns around, booping your nose then cradling your face, “I did, you wouldn't wake up, so I carried you in,”

You pull him into a hug again and snuggle his chest, “Mm, okay,”

The two of you stay there for a moment, with him hugging you back, one hand on the small of your back while the other the back of your head.

“How about we go and have dinner, Àirén?” he asks, and when you nod, he pulls back, takes your hand, and leaves a kiss.

“I'll be wearing cream,” you tell him and he smiles, “I know, I packed a matching one,”

You smile back and he gives you a kiss on your forehead, “I'll leave you to get ready then.”

Jing Yuan never skimps out on dinner. Ever.

Especially so when he's with you, which rings true when you then find out that the restaurant he brings you to was one he rented out the entire outdoor deck for the two of you.

Again, as always, he reassures you that it's simply for privacy considering his position as the Luofu Arbiter General, but you know better than that.

You roll your eyes at him with a smile as he gives your intertwined hands a kiss.

The view was wonderful, the outdoor deck overlooked the beach with the orange-pink hued sunset, the breeze was cool, and it was really quiet, save for the crashing of the waves.

“It's beautiful,” you say in awe.

Jing Yuan squeezes your hand, admiring how pretty the sunset reflects on you, “Yes, it truly is beautiful,” he whispers.

The dinner goes as planned, the two of you had wine, ate really good food, then headed back to the villa.

Of course, you didn't forget to update Yanqing on what was happening (the boy worries, okay?) and sent him what he calls a “proof-of-life” picture. Yuan was sure to send him plenty.

Other than that, the night was really peaceful, the two of you snuggled together on the bed, reading books, nothing out of your usual routine.

And as always, Yuan falls asleep first and you have to stifle your cuteness aggression with how he looks. You snap a few photos to Yanqing before telling him to go to bed.

He replies with pictures of paperwork, followed by ‘as soon as i finish this i will >n<’.

You smile and put both your books away before tucking yourself into bed with him, too.

Jing Yuan wakes without you beside him, and for a moment he panics. He's always the first to rise on weekend vacations, or on the off chance that he does not, you wake him to have breakfast together.

His worries were quelled when he sees you outside in your sleepwear, reading a book.

He walks into the closet and pulls out a shawl before getting out to join you.

“It's cold,” he says as he drapes the fabric around you, “I don't want you to get sick,”

You give him a soft smile and sink onto his side as he sits next to you. He wraps a hand around your shoulder and pulls you close. The two of you sit like that, just watching the ocean wake up as the sun rises.

Suddenly, Jing Yuan says your name and you look up at him.

He pulls away from the hug and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he starts, and immediately your lips part in shock.

“You helped me in the times I was in my lowest, you helped me raise Yanqing, and you've become such an integral part of my life it would be a mistake not to do this,”

He pulls out a simple gold band from his pocket.

“I've spent most of my life with you, and now I want to keep living it with you,”

There were no questions needed to be asked, he knew, and you knew, too.

With a smile and a sigh, you bury your face in his neck and nod, “Yes, I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, too, Xīngān,”

Your now fiancé pulls you back and slips the ring on your finger then cradles your face.

“May I please kiss you?”

You lean forward as your answer.

BONUS:

usagi's note: im so happy i survived omg guys, i only have one presentation left then my finals THEN IM FREE. like our holiday break spans until the 3rd week of january. aaaa r u guys proud of me ?? also i love 'love.' by w2e, i like calm songs and ive always liked calm wedding proposals, i am TOTALLY projecting okay bye!!

@usagiarchive 2024. do not repost, translate, or use for AI.

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yxtubers · 1 year ago

Text

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: matt gets his wisdom teeth taken out, which makes him incredibly clingy

warnings/notes: reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ , that’s about it

requested?: yes!

> > >

Matt had been having tooth pains for weeks now. Every time you urged him to go to the dentist, he would just claim that he hated the dentist and that the pain wasn’t a big deal anyway.

Clearly he was wrong. Sitting next to him as he woke up from his anesthetic daze, you wished you could tell him ‘I told you so’ but you decided to refrain until he was fully sobered up.

His eyes were squinted, probably sensitive to the light since he had been put to sleep for a while.

He looked around for a bit, adjusting to finally being awake. His eyes darted around vigorously once he couldn’t find you.

“Where’s my girlfriend?” he mumbled, disoriented at his surroundings.

You tried to stop yourself from laughing. You were literally beside him, but his drugged state impaired his common sense.

“I’m right here, love.”

Reaching over, you took his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles over his skin.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice muffled by the gauze in his mouth.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

You tried speaking gently since the doctors said to be patient and quiet with him in case he had vertigo or a headache.

“Why do I sound like that?” he asked almost childishly.

“You have gauze in your mouth. They took out your wisdom teeth, remember?”

You brushed his hair out of his eyes. Tucking some other strands behind his ear, you noticed the bewildered look in his eyes.

“They have my teeth?” he whispered.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was so clueless it was adorable. “Yes, but they were bad teeth. The doctors made you all better.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding. He looked around once more, a confused look on his face.

“Can we go home? This place is creepy,” he said, his puffed out cheeks still impeding his speech. It took all his strength to be able to speak even somewhat coherently.

As soon as you got home, Matt was all over you.

He was leaning his head on your shoulder and gripping onto your arm, following you around wherever you went.

You didn’t mind. You actually found it cute - but you were worried for him. The doctors said he shouldn’t be walking around too much since he probably didn’t have a lot of balance.

“Hey how about we go lie down for a bit?” you asked him.

His eyes widened. Matt grabbed onto your arm with both hands now, looking up at you.

“Yeah! Will you lie with me?”

You smiled before nodding and helping him to his bedroom. You tucked him into bed before getting some water and painkillers for when he wakes up, but not without Matt whining for you to come back and cuddle with him.

You could hear a “where are youu?” from the room over as you scrambled to get as many supplies as possible.

His eyes were droopy when you came back into the room, head lolling to the side as he tried to fight off sleep. You set everything down next to him, including some clean gauze for him later. Changing them would be a pain in the ass but it doesn’t compare to how he’s about to feel in the next hour or so.

“Am I gonna hurt when I wake up?” he whined again as he made a grabby motion for you to come next to him.

Climbing into bed, you gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Only for a little while, but I’ll be here to help.”

His lips broke out into a smile, his cheeks making him look like a chipmunk. Closing his eyes he cuddled into you, resting his head on your lap as you sat up in the bed.

“You’re the best,” he said as he drifted off to sleep.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@stxrniqlo

@sunshinewwx

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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reverseexorcist · 10 months ago

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★ 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 ★

Wow just realised this entire time my asks have been off woopsie ●_● Should be fixed now.

Anyway, since y'all went feral over this dynamic (and I can't blame you), here's more of Carmilla with her adopted fallen angel child.

I know I said part 2, but I'm honestly considering making this a sort've slice-of-life series seeing as I absolutely love this dyanmic and I'm having some serious brainrot over these two.

Part 1 ↫ Right Here

➲ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 Carmine + !Fallen Angel!Reader

➲ Romantic ☐, Platonic ☒

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 3,662 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, somewhat depressed reader, minor mentions of gore, sleep deprived writing, potential ooc Carmilla, mother mode Carmilla increased

Getting used to your new life required more effort than you ever thought was ever needed. Getting used to living in hell was a chore in of itself, and quite a tedious one, and getting used to the new family you now found yourself surrounded by only piled on a tad more stress.

Unlike heaven, the land below was almost always swathed in some sort've darkness - There was literally no day night cycle at all and it was fucking with your head. Your poor circadian rhythm was completely thrown all over the place when three in the morning was just as bright at two in the afternoon. Not to mention the smoke ever present in the air. You weren't sure which you hated more between the two.

(Probably the air. You actually liked it when you breathed and didn't hack up a lung.)

It was a lot, especially when you were getting used to your new wingless life.

(Which sucked, by the way. Every time your fight or flight response kicked in, you found yourself straining your back muscles trying to lift off with nothing to support you and it made you want to cry every single time it happened.)

However, all of this was way better than what could've happened had Carmilla not saved your life. Your back still ached and the phantom pain still tortured you at night, the feather-fluff nubs of your old wings only served as a painful reminder. As much as you hated to admit it, often times you'd spend the entire night longing for the newly comforting touch of your adopted mother figure…

Wow. That felt weird to admit. That and a whole lot of other repressed emotions and memories.

You groaned and sighed, clutching your head and threading your fingers through your tussled bedhair. Your back muscles flexed, the sound of rustling feathers muffled by the mattress. The sensation was weird enough to make you 'gwak', roll on to your stomach and faceplant into your pillow. It was more natural that way, anyway - When one has wings it was rather difficult to sleep on your back, afterall, at least after your first growth spurt. You never thought you would miss the feeling, but you fought to find any silver lining in your new life. And in a world that was mostly shades of red, silver was quite a luxury.

Your somewhat depressing quiet time was broken by the gentle tapping of steel carefully approaching your room.

"Mi peque?" You didn't have the energy to jump, already having heard the delicate 'tink' of Carmilla's pointed shoes against the hardword floor of your new home. Her silhouette took up most of the doorway, the faint light spilling in from the hallway making the angelic steel decorating her body glow, much like the warm lull of her crimson eyes. Your head tiltied to the side to stare at her, but otherwise you made no movement.

She blinked once and ducked her head to step into your room. If you were, well, you from about a week ago, you probably would've been shitting bricks at the sight. It was lowkey terrifying, mostly because Carmilla was so much taller than you and had the expression of a constantly pissed off commander or something. However, it didn't scare you - Mostly because your worst nightmare had already come true.

"Can't sleep?" Her voice was soft, something that completely contrasted her outward exterior. It was soothing, though, and you found yourself not caring when she settled herself on the end of your bed.

(Your new bed. Your new bed that you could, for once, comfortably stretch out on.)

"Something like that," You mumbled, practically whispered. Your eyes glowed much like Carmilla's, like a mischevious cat from your spot hidden under your multiple blankets. "It's, mm, weird. Sleeping by myself."

Her eyebrow quirked, a silent invitation to continue if you wanted to. Maybe? Emotions were still hard to read for you.

"Well, because I'm used to sleeping in the barracks with the rest of my platoon. It's apparently really comforting, seeing as I haven't had a good sleep since I got here," You grappled your blankets a little tighter, as if doing so would provide you with some sort've phantom comfort that you secretly longed for.

A breath of silence hung steadily in the air, as if both your minds were churning on what to say next.

"I'm sorry."

"M'sorry."

You both said at the same time, which seemed just a little cliche. Slinking out from underneath your covers, you couldn't help by eye the demon across from you warily.

"Why're you sorry?"

"Because, I'll admit, I'm a little rusty," She reached up and untied her buns, letting her hair loosen and tumble down her back. "It's been a while since my girls were young like you-" You scoffed, which prompted an amused smirk "And it's not like I know anything about taking care of an angel."

"Well, you're doing better than what they were doing up there," You blankly motioned upwards where the pearly gates shone brightly in the sky like a constant sun. "Plus, I'd say you're dealing with me as gracefully as you can."

"Elaborate?" Carmila carded her fingers through her hair, tilting her head curiously. The mountain on your shoulders threatened to stumble, and by god you were ready to let it fall.

"Well, it's not like any heaven-born has parents. Heaven was always all about equality and shit, and every single child was raised by the community. And yeah, it was all rainbows and crap because everyone was loved mostly equally, but it sucked because I was always just another nestling that someone had to keep an eye on," You brought your knees up to your chest. "That's why, when the lieutenant gave me her offer I didn't refuse, cause I thought 'wow, someone noticed me!' and it was a feeling I chased ever since."

It felt nice to let it all out for once. Not like anyone else around you back then really cared, cause they all went through the same thing.

Beside you, the covers rustled. Carmilla opened her arms wordlessly, minutely enough that if you didn't want to, you could probably brush the motion off as stretching. But, the warmth the she radiated was sorely tempting, and your little serotonin deprived brain was severly touch-starved.

Wow, four days into your new life, and you found yourself snuggling into the arms of one of Hell's overlords. And, sullying the lord's name, by god you loved it.

Not a single word had to be uttered between the two of you, not as long as you didn't want it. That was the silent message that you both clearly understood.

It kind've made you want to cry, if you were being honest with yourself. In a place that had seemingly been perfect, you found your life lacking, and in the burning pits of eternal damnation, you'd found yourself feeling loved for the first time since you could remember. The way Carmilla's hold around you grew tighter, just ever so slightly - A comforting weight draped across your shoulders as you leaned into her warmth. That, along with her mellow breathing, it felt homely and nostalgic.

Tugging your blankets a little tighter around yourself, you didn't even fight the way your eyelids drooped.

Two weeks.

It felt like a lot longer, but you'd been living in hell for fourteen days, and it already felt like you'd been living here for months.

Well, it certainly didn't help that you never really left the main house. Like, ever. And you, for one, weren't complaining. The burning pits of Hell left much to be desired, and as a little angel who hadn't even had her first adult moult yet, you didn't really fancy going galavanting off around Hell, even if Carmilla was hovering over your shoulder like a helicopter parent.

Still, after the first week where you'd discovered and explored all the places that you were allowed to (the allure of the armory was great, but the potential wrath of an angry demon was greater), there wasn't really anything to do around the house. Sure, it was probably one of the safest places in the eternal firepit, but neither Carmilla nor Clara and Odette were ever really around, and it left you bored out of your mind.

Sprawled out across a rather decadent couch, soaking up the hellfire from outside, you found yourself wishing that something would happen that would hopefully prevent your mind from rotting further. But, if the big man from upstairs was paying attention, he surely must've hated you, because literally nothing was happening.

Unless…

You sat up, straining your ears.

Nope. Absolutely nothing.

You flopped backwards dramatically, back of your hand against your forehead and all.

Maybe, if you still had your weapon, you could've spent your time training or practicing or something. There was a training room somewhere in the house, and you weren't explicitly banned from using it, and it wasn't exactly a useless way to spend your time.

(At least that way you'd be able to get some reasonable exercise in rather than just moping around all day.)

Maybe that was something you could ask Carmilla later. She wasn't the type to be against learning self defense, however you had no idea if even she deemed yourself too young to learn how to fight. She certainly was not happy when she found out about how you were sent to fight with baby feathers still warming your wings, that was for sure.

At least you had something to talk about when she got home.

…

"You want to learn how to fight?" As expected, Carmilla didn't seem entirely thrilled at your idea.

"Not necessarily. Just, how to use weapons?" It was more of a question than an answer, but it seemed to ease the tenseness in her shoulders.

"What type of weapons? Swords? Spears? Firearms?" She fixed you with a look. "If you want to get started, the first thing you could do is be a little more specific."

Which was certainly not the answer you were expecting, so you took a few moments to blue screen.

"Well, I wasn't too fond of using spears… Swords don't sound to appealing either…" Your eyes started drifting, and soon you found that your real answer was right in front of you.

"If possible," You wrung your hands nervously, "could I use shoes like you do?"

Honestly, Carmilla's unique fighitng style had piqued your interest ever since your head became clear enough to notice. Having your hands free sounded more appealing than lugging around a heavy blade.

The demoness paused for a moment, completely silent as she studied you with a stern gaze. It wasn't negative or positive, if anything it was most likely calculative. You weren't entirely stupid, even if you were young, and you weren't naive. Carmilla was weighing the pros and cons of teaching you her trade.

"Why? They aren't exactly easy to use," That wasn't a no, at least.

"I don't like melee weapons, not hand-held ones at least," There was more to your answer that Carmilla already knew. Months of cycling through weapons till you landed on one you could somewhat use you realised that you absolutely hated using hand-held weapons.

Carmilla sighed, a small smile appearing on her face.

"Okay, but it's not like I have spare angelic steel laying around. We'll have to wait till I can melt more down," She mused, almost seeming excited about crafting you your own weapon. But her words only confused you more.

"But, we do, don't we?" You furrowed your brows.

"The steel in the armory is meant for prepaid orders-"

"I was talking about my old helmet," You hoped that didn't sound too rude, interupting her. "I mean, the entire thing is is technically angelic. I don't know if it's steel exactly, but I know for a fact it's just as solid!" Now you were the one musing.

Like mother like daughter, almost.

"We could certainly try…" The two of you shared a look.

"Like… Right now?" You prodded almost mischeviously.

Tired as she was, Carmilla couldn't help but falter and smile, your enthusiasm almost contagious.

"Well, we can have a look."

After that it was only a matter of days. Carmilla was far more invested in your new project than you had expected, and even Clara and Odette had briefly joined in, if only to get a sneak peak at the workings behind an exorcists helmet. For the briefest of moments, with all four of you crowded around a table with tidy plans sprawled all over its surface, it almost felt like you were a family. Which, did prompt a stray thought in your head.

After gently pulling the threads of angelic steel from the rivets in the helmet's horns, you couldn't help but bundle them to your chest. They weren't exactly big, nothing compared to the horns of a full fledged exorcist, but they were still something.

So, while your mo-… Carmilla was busy melting down the odd, almost obsidian material of your old helmet in preparation of your new shoes, you were busy tinkering away with your own little side project. Of course, it was hard to explain the various little burns marks littered across your palms that had started appearing, but that didn't deter you one bit.

In fact, during this time, you found yourself shyly approaching the taller of Carmilla's other daughters, Odette.

One thing about her that confused you was the fact that her horns were fake, merely attatched to the band that held her hair up. But right now, that was exactly what you needed.

It was a sweet sight, honestly, at least to Carmilla.

You were huddled against Odette, listening with rapt attention as she explained something to you, finger brushing against what was most likely some sort've plan.

With a smile, Carmilla got back to work.

At the end of it all, you were left with a pair of shoes similar to the overlord's. Pointed and shiny. Sharp and deadly, yet oddly comfortable. The only key difference was the colour - Forged from the scrapped glass of your old helmet, the shoes were jet black inlaid with threads of silver, trailing all the way up the ballet ribbons.

And with your shoes, a matching set of your own horns. Odette seemed proud at the sight of you with small, obsidian horns branching from your head, unable to stand still as you clutched your new weapons to your chest gleefully.

There was a massive learning curve to your new weapons, but at least you weren't bored around the house anymore. Most of your time over the next month had been dedicated to learning how to move around in your new shoes, building both the strength and balance so you could walk, let alone run. So many bruises had been blemished into your skin, but in the end you were able to walk almost as easily as Carmilla did.

(Of course, the demoness had way more experience under her belt, but you were still doing pretty damn well.)

And during that time, the bond between you, Clara and Odette had only grown. Sure, they were only around as much as their mother, but after donning your horns, it seemed whatever barrier that had been built between you and the sisters had been torn down. Seeing as the two could also walk en pointe like their mother, many a helpful tip had been shared from them which served to get you walking faster.

It was endearing as it was funny to watch.

But, being couped up inside all day everyday was starting to wear you down, which was certainly starting to show with the way your pep had slowed down significantly.

With a heavy heart, Carmilla finally unleashed you on the world outside, accompanied by Clara and Odette.

In reality, you were just tailing behind the sisters on one of their usual deliveries. This way you could stretch your legs and practice on terrain other than the smooth floors of your home, which, while it was more difficult, was learnt within no time.

As dreary as the place looked, there were certainly sights to see around ever different corner. You'd found yourself tempted to wander off every five minutes or so, especially when you passed by a rather bright looking… hotel? The entire vibe seemed friendly and inviting, unlike the rest of Hell, but you really didn't fancy getting lost, so sticking close by Clara and Odette was the most sane option in the moment.

Or, at least that was the plan.

Really, with your head on a swivel trying to grasp every sight and sound (which you regretted not a moment later) you'd lost sight of the sisters and found yourself completely by your lonesome.

Which… Fuck.

That wasn't the most ideal position, especially when you really couldn't do more than walk in your new shoes, but they couldn't have gotten far, right?

You were wrong. Turning either corners of the street yielded no Clara or Odette, which only made your heart sink further into your stomach because you really didn't fancy getting cornered in an alley.

Backtracking, you tried your hardest to think. Perhaps, if you could find your way back to the hotel, someone there could help you? It was wishful thinking, because this was Hell after all, but the aura was so different compared to the rest of the ring of wrath that maybe, just this once, luck would be on your side.

But of course, since this was you, luck was mercilessly right out of your reach. Not a moment later, a rambunctious howl pierced the air and a group - a pack? Of hellhounds started approaching you. Which, y'know, wasn't good, especially with the way their ears were pinned back and grins plastered across their faces.

Oh shit.

You started speed walking away, or your best attempt at it, in what you hoped was the direction of the hotel. Down in the streets without either of your guides, it all seemed like one continuous labarynth of red, LEDs and very questionable stores. And, as it turned out, lots of dead ends that you could easily get cornered in.

With the blood thrumming in your ears, heart pumping in your chest loud enough that it shook your head and just the general sense of 'oh shit I am so fucked', you really didn't pay attention to whatever the hounds were spouting off about. Lots of snapping of teeth and snarls, some crude gestures that made your gut twist anxiously and your feathers rustle nervously.

(You were seriously considering using a shoe as a knife. It wasn't like it was impossible with how sharp they were.)

At least, that was your train of thought. Until a resounding bang pretty much deafended you, echoing a chorus of ringing in your ears as the middlemost hound collapsed, head exploding with the force of the bullet that lodged itself firmly within the back of his disintegrated skull.

With dramatic timing, the others peered over their shoulders, only to be met with the towering, thoroughly pissed off form of Carmilla Carmine.

The barrel of her rifle was tinted with holy silver, but she seemed perfectly happy and prepared to behead them with a well placed kick. Whichever worked, you knew Carmilla prioritised your safety over the method of execution in the end. And in the end, the alley was scattered with various corpses in various states of limb loss, and you were carefully toted away in the arms of Carmilla.

She was furious. Probably. Maybe. You couldn't really tell. her face was completely stoney, and you were still awful when it came to identifying emotions. You assumed most of the anger had been taken out on the unsuspecting assholes that had cornered you. And for some reason, that only made you more anxious.

Not being able to tell what she was thinking was off. Back in Heaven, you could tell when Lute was pissed off, or proud, or indifferent, or whatever other emotion she was feeling at the time because she didn't really give two shits about what the recruits thought of her. And at least that way you could prepare on how to react. If she was angry, you knew to stay out of her way. If she looked indifferent, you knew you had to work harder in training. If she was proud, well, also best to stay out of her way so you didn't ruin her mood.

You whimpered and huddled a little closer. Carmilla clutched you a little tighter.

"Are you alright?" She finally asked once you were close enough to home that is was mostly just her employees around the two of you.

"Please don't be mad at Clara or Odette. It was my fault for getting lost," Was what you went with anyway. Carmilla shushed you gently.

"I'm not mad, I just want to know if you're okay."

Which completely threw you off. But you just went with it.

"M'fine. You got there before they could do anything," Those words seem to put her mind at ease, her shoulders visibly untensing as she exhaled a long sigh.

She hugged you, closer and tighter to her chest as if scared you were about to disappear from her hold. And you could only return the gesture, sinking into her comforting warmth. It made you feel small, almost like a little nestling on her first trip out of the nursery, but you found that you didn't really give two shits in the moment because you felt completely, wholly safe right where you were.

"Mi peque, mi querida, mi corazón," She uttered softly, "never wander from your siblings again."

Despite the firm tone, you could feel the care dripping from her words. You sighed and relaxed.

"Of course, mother."

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

#carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #platonic #hazbin #hazbin carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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