#well i will be thinking about this the rest of the day

[emphistic]

MEDDLE ABOUT

SYN. Being co-stars with your ex-boyfriend of three months is basically hell; or at least, that's what you think. AKA: Sukuna wants you back, whether he's acting or not.

TAGS. actor AU, fem!Reader, mean!Sukuna, exes to lovers, forced proximity, sharing a cigarette, smoking, arguing, eventual smut, Sukuna likes to shut you up with his dick, cockwarming, answering the phone during séx, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, porn w/o plot, use of pet names: baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, my dear (mockingly)

WC. 5.4k (please read anyway 😞)

AN. requested by anon (you didn't specify any genre, so i just freestyled 🤷‍♀️), animated dividers by @/cafekitsune; i'm a sucker for actor AUs; available on ao3; MDNI

“I know you wanna kiss me,” you smiled, leaning closer to Sukuna’s face. Your noses were barely apart, and you couldn’t tell where his breath ended, and where yours started. To be honest, this was far more intimate than any other kiss scene you ever had to film.

“Yeah?” Sukuna grinned, getting equally as close. “And what’re you going to do about that, pretty girl?”

“. . .Fucking slap you, that’s what.” 

“CUT!” The director yelled, groaning in exasperation. “C’mon, people. I know it’s been a long day, but put your differences aside for the sake of one movie, will ya? When you receive your paycheck, you’ll regret all of this ‘huffing and puffing’ you two are both doing right now.”

You exhaled, pulling away from Sukuna. It’s not that you couldn’t remember your correct lines, it’s just. . . You couldn’t take it anymore. Being in the same room as him, breathing in the same air as him, starring in the same movie with him. Fuck, you hated this.

You and Sukuna had broken up exactly three months ago despite having what seemed like a pretty healthy relationship. Seemed is the key word.

Of course, you two had your ups and downs, like an ordinary couple, but what differentiated you two from a normal couple was the fact that you guys both juggled busy careers as an actor and actress. Being booked with interviews, PR stunts, and in general, movies, you and Sukuna didn’t have the ability to spend much time together. And, as if that wasn’t enough, there was constantly a multitude of women on his arm during movie premieres. Yeah, you knew those were all for PR, but still, it hurt to see your boyfriend standing with a woman that wasn’t you every day.

At first, you thought you could take it. Being an actress yourself, you had your fair share of rumors and made up scandals. But it came to a point where you couldn’t take it anymore. You and Sukuna broke up, consequently, and fans immediately voiced their opinions and concerns, bombarding Twitter with trending tags, and posting videos on several apps. The internet had been obsessed with you guys as a couple since the first movie you two co-starred in—which was years ago—so their complaints definitely weren’t for naught.

Originally, you thought that your relationship with Sukuna would end on good terms, but boy, oh boy, were you wrong. Sukuna, just mere days after your breakup, was spotted by paparazzi walking around the city with his arm around a girl you definitely did not recognize as one of his current co-stars. And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to hit you up and ask if he could come over to your penthouse right after.

Men, am I right?

You two may or may not have slept together as exes a few times after your inevitable argument about him and that new girl, but rest assured, you did eventually break things off permanently. Well, you thought you did. As if by fate, you and Sukuna were casted as co-stars in an up-and-coming romance movie that had your fans just dying in anticipation of finally being able to see their favorite (broken up) couple together on screen again.

To be frank, you were originally going to pass up the role as the female lead—seeing as your luck had landed you as co-stars with Sukuna—but your manager apparently really, really wanted you to work on the film, saying things like Think of how elated your fans will be and It’s an adaptation from a book that made millions and Just imagine all of the PR and promoting you could do. It took a while of convincing—and coercing—to get you to finally agree to the role since, after all, PR was the main reason for your and Sukuna’s breakup. But, honestly, you would be lying if you said there weren’t any feelings left for your ex-boyfriend, Sukuna.

“I think we should all take a breather,” Sukuna began, jeering, “before someone gets all hot and bothered by just being on the same set as me. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sukuna turned to you, an expression on his face that just made you want to punch him in the nose.

“‘Hot and bothered’, seriously? Don’t make me laugh.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sukuna tilted his head to the side, grinning. “Do you think I’m joking? I could feel the way your heart was racing earlier, when we had to shoot that hugging in the rain scene. Just admit it, this isn’t acting for you.”

He was definitely self-projecting, you scowled just by the thought of it.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart. We all know how you really feel,” Sukuna teased, leaning down to your eye-level. His breath fanned your reddening ear as he whispered, “You want me so bad it makes you look fucking stupid.”

And when he pulled away, Sukuna added one last remark, “I know it’s been a long three months for you. Say, how’s that blondie treating you, hm? I bet his dick is as small as his future in acting.”

“Ryomen, just stop.” You shook your head. “It’s not like that with him, and you know that. Just leave me alone.”

You shoved at his chest as you walked off set, your assistants following you promptly with water bottles and towels.

In all honesty, you remembered it like it happened yesterday. Before you and Sukuna became boyfriend and girlfriend, your first meeting was in a movie that you both starred in as the female and male lead. It was a romance movie, of course, that was about a couple meeting on an island while both on individual vacations. You two spent most of your days on set in swimsuits and bikinis, consuming fake alcoholic beverages, and, consequently, sleeping together—after the tension just grew unbearable.

On and off camera, Sukuna had been growing an attraction towards you. I mean, who could blame him? You two had to be near each other while being basically half-naked. And, if your pretty face wasn’t enough to beguile Sukuna, your ass definitely was. From the moment he shook hands with you at your first meeting as co-stars, he knew he had to have you—acting or not.

That movie was the start of the skyrocketing of both your and Sukuna’s career in acting. Fans quickly noted how much chemistry the two of you had together, and how well you two could act out emotions and intimate scenes. What the audience didn’t know, though, was that you and Sukuna had started seeing each other a few weeks after shooting together.

Sukuna had invited over the whole cast and team for drinks after a successful movie premiere, and you two ended up talking and conversing in his kitchen whilst a little under the influence. You two hit it off, and learned that being an aspiring actor wasn’t the only thing you two had in common. One glass turned into two, and two turned into stumbling into Sukuna’s bedroom after everyone had responsibly ordered a cab home.

Waking up the morning after, and deciding it wasn’t just going to be a one night stand, you and Sukuna thus began your new relationship. At first, you two avoided being spotted in public together, but it came to a point where your relationship just couldn’t be hidden anymore and you both decided to go public. The internet responded almost immediately with cheers, enthusiasm, and occasionally, expressions showing how un-surprised they were. I mean, you two had been shipped together almost constantly; making it official was almost expected. 

Years passed, the honeymoon stage was over, your careers were more demanding and busy than they had ever been, and, well, you know the rest.

—

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

A grimace immediately made its way onto your face at the sound of Sukuna’s voice calling out to you from behind. 

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, turning to face Sukuna as he sat down beside you and slung an arm around the back of the couch, “I was hoping the next time I saw you would be at your funeral.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” chided Sukuna, as he brought out a cigarette and lit it.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back against the couch. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sukuna leaned his face closer to yours, his eyes running down your face and naturally drifting to your lips.

“Unless you’re being your usual asshole-self, and here to annoy me in my dressing room, I’m afraid not.”

After you stormed off set, the director decided it was best to just call it a day and continue filming tomorrow. You went outside for a bit to get some fresh air, before deciding to return to your dressing room and get unready. Stripping down and putting on nothing but your robe, you had sat yourself down on the couch and picked up a magazine, planning on spending a few minutes relaxing before making your way home. Sukuna barging in, despite being off the clock, was something you definitely weren’t expecting. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and if someone found out. . .

“You’ll be in a lot of trouble if my makeup artist comes in here and sees you,” you commented. “Go smoke somewhere else.”

At this, Sukuna’s eyes flickered up to your own, and he removed the cigarette from his lips before blowing out the smoke right in front of your face. Your nose scrunched up, as if on instinct, and Sukuna booped your nose with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I swear,” you began, snatching the cigarette out of Sukuna’s hands, “if I don’t kill you, I hope these will.” Now was your turn to put the cigarette between your lips. You inhaled, and took a deep breath. But, only moments after, the cigarette was out of your hands and abruptly stubbed on a nearby ashtray.

Sukuna looked at you with an intent look on his face. “As much as I find that hot, I’d rather I be the one damaging my lungs. Not you.”

“Looking out for little old me? How cute,” you smiled, your tone sarcastic. “I see you’re not over us, yet, hm? Did that new girl change your mind?”

You leaned closer to Sukuna, your shoulders brushing ever so slightly.

As soon as you mentioned that other chick, Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. It was nothing, we didn’t even hold hands. C’mon, all we did was sit next to each other at a party, and now you’re on my ass about her?”

You shrugged, picking up the magazine you had previously discarded and flipping through the pages with faux interest. “Oh, really? Didn’t look that way to me. You two sure seemed buddy-buddy.”

“Like hell we did. Fuck, do you want me to bring up that twig you were with last week? Kid’s got no meat on his arms. Can’t even call him a man. Is that seriously how low you’re willing to go, babe?” Sukuna scoffed at your lack of attention to him. “Shit’s even worse than a downgrade.”

“You can think that all you want. But I definitely disagree.” You struggled to stifle a giggle.

Sukuna, furrowing his brows, narrowed his eyes at you. “The fuck do you mean by that? Don’t tell me you’ve seen his dick.”

“I dunno, have I?” You turned to Sukuna, meeting his gaze with an equal amount of irritation.

“Must’ve been pretty small, though, if you can’t even remember it,” Sukuna pressed, leaning closer to you, your noses touching, before pulling away. “Whatever, this is boring. Say, how about we get back to where we left off, and practice that kissing scene, hm? I think it’s a great idea.”

“Ryomen, let’s not. You know we’re done. Been done. We’re through.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“Oh, is it not obvious? I think it was pretty obvious when you had the nerve to get with a new girl just days after we broke up. And then you have the balls to call me right after the paparazzi catches you two. Really, Sukuna? I don’t mind the idea of us ending on neutral terms, but . . . 48 hours? Two days after we broke up, and you’re already fucking some girl? Way to go, Sukuna.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, baby. We didn’t even kiss, did you see any pictures of us kissing? No. And, besides, it’s called provocation. Honestly, you should be praising me, because it worked in the end, didn’t it? I came ‘crawling back’ like one of your little bitch boys, and what happened? Oh, I remember; you let me right the fuck in to your apartment.”

As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t deny Sukuna. He was right. And, just the mere thought of what you two did after he hit you up brought heat to your cheeks.

The very same night after pictures of Sukuna and that new girl started circulating around the internet, Sukuna decided to text you:

hey pretty girl,

you up?

You were drying yourself off with a towel when you received two notifications on your phone, and when you saw the contact name, you frowned and turned off your phone without giving a response. Minutes after, there was a ring on your doorbell, and when you checked the camera, lo and behold, stood none other than the last pink-haired man you wanted to see that evening.

When you opened the door, wearing nothing other than a towel around your still dripping body, Sukuna couldn’t help but shamelessly check you out, deciding then and there that this definitely wasn’t going to be the end of your relationship. Of course, an argument ensued soon after, because that’s what life was like dating a dick like Sukuna. Luckily for you, however, Sukuna’s bulge in his pants was bigger than his ego, and so it made up for all of the playful bullying and teasing remarks that he frequently gave.

Sukuna—because he wasn’t born yesterday—knew his looks and charms fairly well, and often used them as a weapon or bargaining chip. That’s why, after you spent a minute or two berating and yelling at Sukuna near your front door, it only took the man one look into your eyes and one sultry comment to have you both stumbling into the . . . bedroom? No, you two had been apart for two days too long, and just decided to utilize your expensive kitchen counters for purposes completely unrelated to cooking.

The next morning, you two woke up—after getting just half an hour of sleep—and didn’t untangle from each other’s limbs until your manager called you nearly a hundred times, and forced you to get up and attend some interview or something. That, however, was not your last night with Sukuna. You two met up—intentionally or not—within the same week, whether it be at interviews or just random outings, and meddled with the other until one of you would fold (usually Sukuna) and consequently do something you would end up not fully regretting the next morning.

This affair continued until you finally came to your senses and blocked Sukuna out from your life in all ways possible. But, due to his bank account, Sukuna did end up purchasing multiple different phones just to be able to contact you. You may or may not have given in a few times, but in the end, you did end up leaving Sukuna for good.

“Reminiscing, are you? It’s okay, I’ve been doing that every night since you left the penthouse,” Sukuna laughed, noticing the way you went silent. You hated the way he referred to his place as The penthouse, and not, simply, his penthouse because, to be frank, for the years you both spent as a couple, you practically lived together despite having individual residences.

“What the hell, Sukuna. Just—Why are you even—?”

Sukuna cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I find it pretty hard to believe that not a single part of you misses me. Don’t lie; lying is a sin, y’know.”

“Sukuna—Excuse me? Don’t give me that shit. ‘Lying is a sin’ my ass. You must have to ask for God’s forgiveness pretty often, then. I can’t believe you want to call me a sinner, I mean, just—just look at you! You’re no saint, either, and you know that damn well.”

Sukuna raised his hands in defense, humoring you. “Woah, looks like I’ve been caught,” he laughed, before getting a little more serious. “But, don’t try to avoid the fact that you’re not innocent. Okay, we broke up due to not being able to make time for each other, and because of how much women I had to be around. Yeah, I get that. But it’s not like I was the only one taking up PR stunts. You did the same, too, didn’t you? So don’t try and paint me out to be the bad guy, when, at the end of the day, we did the same fucking thing.”

Irritated, you pinched the space between your brows. “I barely have any energy to say something to your stupid face right now. We broke up because of that, but also because of how much of a fucking dick you were and are. I knew you weren’t a total angel when we got together but—”

“Look. Do you want a nice guy?”

“. . .”

“Don’t feel pressured to answer, baby. We all know how you really feel.”

“Go. to. Hell. Sukuna. Seriously. This? Again? Do you even know how much of an ass you are? I should deserve an award for putting up with your shit for so long, God—”

“Yeahh, just keep talking,” said Sukuna in a teasing manner, as he leaned back against the couch, spreading his legs apart. You had never wanted to sit somewhere so bad.

“Are you fucking kidding me—mmph!”

You would’ve continued yelling and cursing Sukuna out for being such a dick had he not roughly pressed his lips against yours, immediately shutting you up. Because you still had some self-respect left, you fought back, throwing weak punches at his chest; but when Sukuna caught your wrists in his hands, you knew it was game over. Your muffled complaints soon turned to whimpers and sighs, as you shut your eyes and let your body do the talking.

Minute after minute, you gradually turned to putty in Sukuna’s hands. Fuck, as much as you hated to admit it, you had truly missed this. The feeling of his large, coarse hands roaming your body, tracing your curves, the feeling of his soft, but unruly hair under your fingertips, but most importantly, the feeling of his lips on yours.

At this point, you couldn’t even remember why the two of you broke up.

“Sukuna,” you murmured, pulling away for a moment to breathe. “We’re not together anymore. We shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t?” repeated Sukuna, eager to get back to where you left off. “Are you in a relationship with someone else? Am I in a relationship with someone else? No, and no. So enlighten me, my dear, why should we stop?”

“. . .” It was like he was challenging you, except, this time, it was a battle you could afford to lose. You wanted Sukuna, you really did. But admitting it was the hard part. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating every outcome, as Sukuna continued to stare at you with so much desire you could practically feel it.

“Are you hesitating because,” Sukuna paused, “—because you fucked someone else while I was gone?”

You sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat; you had never been more conflicted in your life. Placing your hands on Sukuna’s shoulders, you pushed back until Sukuna was sitting on the couch, and you were sitting on top of him—seated on his lap. As if on instinct, his hands made their way from your hips to the curve of your ass.

Sukuna gripped the globes of fat and muscle with a purpose, and let out an exaggerated groan at the missed feeling of you practically sitting on his dick. You were wearing nothing but a dainty, silky robe, and you clearly didn’t cross it over your chest too well, as Sukuna could see almost everything he had been missing out on during the past few months.

“Don’t even think about lying to me. I can feel you throbbing on my thigh, y’know.”

“. . .And?” You raised a brow; whispering in Sukuna’s ear, “What about it?”

Biting your lip, you let your hands wander up and down Sukuna’s neck, the spot you knew he liked you touching. When you broke things off with Sukuna, you didn’t know you could miss being able to trace his tattoos as bad as you did.

“Oh?” asked Sukuna. But when his fingers wandered up your robe, there was a sudden change in Sukuna’s demeanor, and he sucked in a breath.

“Adorable,” you laughed. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shit, baby,” Sukuna groaned, “I bet you were expecting me to come and visit your little dressing room, huh. Even planned ahead and gave me a little surprise. Cheeky thing.”

Just seconds earlier, Sukuna’s fingers had been teasingly ghosting where you wanted him most, but when he noticed the lack of underwear you had on, he nearly lost it. You clearly weren’t making it easy for Sukuna to stay composed, he was sure of that much. Despite all of his belittling and teasing remarks, he definitely wasn’t as unaffected as he let himself seem to be.

“We’ve just been apart for so, so long.” You looked into Sukuna’s eyes, a faux pout on your lips as you looped your arms around his neck and pressed your tits up against his chest. “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck, girl,” Sukuna kissed his teeth. “You’re dripping wet. All for me?”

“Who the fuck else?”

Sukuna’s fingers danced around your entrance, collecting your slick as you pressed your thighs together, trapping his hand between your legs (not like he was complaining, though; that was probably the closest to Heaven Sukuna would ever get in his lifetime). “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.”

It wasn’t a surprise when you pressed your lips against Sukuna’s, bringing him in for another zealous kiss. In an effort to get impossibly closer, your body curved into his, like you were puzzle pieces molded and created just for each other. You two moved in sync, as if you had both rehearsed this before; but, in truth, you two had just made out too many times to count, so kissing Sukuna was basically like breathing air. You needed it to survive, and, it was light work. What more could you say?

The tension and lust between you two grew, and your dressing room soon filled with the sound of sensual desire, moans and quiet gasps, and the creaking of the framework of your unfortunate couch, which had the misfortune of being beneath the two of you.

From the moment you had begun straddling his lap, you had pretended not to notice the growing erection below you; but, by now, it was pretty hard to ignore the bulge pressing against your ass. It was like, during the months you two spent apart, Sukuna’s dick was growing even larger than before. You didn’t remember it being so big. And, just the sight of it was enough to make you lick your lips in fear? Anticipation? . . .Definitely a mix of both.

As Sukuna made a show of removing his belt and pants, he grinned at the evident look of unfamiliarity on your face. “Scared?”

“Of course not,” you quipped, trying to put up a front, but your body betrayed you, displaying otherwise.

“Naturally,” Sukuna mocked, “that’s why I can practically feel your arousal, right?”

You bit your lip, “Shut up.”

Sukuna laughed, pushing the ends of your robe up to rest on your hips, and sliding his hands to your ass, squeezing each cheek with an equal amount of force. Damn, thought Sukuna, he had missed his favorite girls.

“Just because we haven’t done this in a while doesn’t mean you have to be afraid of it. C’mon,” Sukuna slowly repositioned and lowered your hips and spread your legs apart, easing his dick through your cunt, “there’s nothing to be shy about. I know you’ve been missing this.”

It was true, you and Sukuna hadn’t fucked in three whole months, and your body was definitely starting to forget how he felt. The feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s length and size burned pleasurably, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan, which, in turn, just came out as a whimper instead.

Bracing yourself, you planted both palms on Sukuna’s broad shoulders as your lashes fluttered and your eyes shut tight. “So—nngh—So big, Sukuna. God.”

“Bet you’re real glad you decided to accept this role, after all, huh.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you glared at Sukuna. “Will you just shut—oh!”

Just as you were about to yell at Sukuna, he decided it was the absolute perfect time to give a rough thrust; and you could’ve sworn you felt him in your womb. Throughout all the years you two had been together, you rarely had the opportunity to actually sit on his dick, and, now that you had the chance, you realized how full you felt in this position compared to how you two usually fucked. Sukuna knew you liked it rough, but this . . . was like nothing you had experienced before.

Sukuna—laughing—leaned down just enough to whisper in your ear, “You were saying?”

“Fuck,” you gritted your teeth. “Just move, Sukuna, goddamnit. What’s the holdup? Don’t tell me the late twenties are catching up to your libido.”

“Ha! in your dreams. I was just thinking of a new way we could have fun. Let’s see, just how long can you go without moving, hm?”

You gulped. “W-What? Why would you—?”

“Because it’s exciting, and spices up things. Don’t you think so?”

“. . .”

As the minutes idly passed by, you grew hot and bothered, and exasperated. You couldn’t believe Sukuna was making you do this. Nearly ninety days you two spent apart, and now that you had gotten back together, he had the audacity to leave you high and dry? In a final attempt at getting any satisfaction, you moved to roll your hips, desperate to create any amount of friction to free you from this everlasting state between Heaven and Hell; but two rough hands abruptly caught you in motion, and swiftly held you down.

“Ah, ah, ah,” tutted Sukuna, in a mocking tone. “Did I say you could move?”

Clearly frustrated, you let out a whine; but as your hands move to give punches against Sukuna’s chest, he catches your wrists in his hands with ease, an evil smile on his face, like a predator that had successfully cornered their prey and was just seconds away from latching their teeth in.

The belt was already pretty loose, so when one of the sleeves on your robe slipped down your shoulder, revealing your bare chest, no one was that surprised.

“Oh?” Sukuna began. “What have we here?” His scarlet eyes roamed up and down your figure, as his grip on your wrists turned almost deathly.

“You . . . bastard,” you—suddenly feeling a bit shy—tried to tug your wrists out of his grasps, in order to cover yourself up, but your attempts were futile. “Let go of me—hnngh, shit.”

Your back arched, body curving closer to Sukuna’s as his lips abruptly wrapped around one of your already hard nipples, catching you off guard. You had never felt so overwhelmed; the feeling of Sukuna sucking on a tit while his dick was buried inside of you—unmoving—was nearly enough to make you cum, despite the lack of movement that Sukuna allowed.

Bringing you out of your dazed state was the sudden ringing of your phone on the table beside the ashtray. Your eyes widened in surprise, as you softly pushed Sukuna off of you. “Just—Just ignore it. It’s not important.”

“Right. But where’s the fun in that, huh?”

“You don’t mean. . .”

“You know what I mean. Answer it, on speaker,” Sukuna pressed. His tone told you he wasn’t going to repeat himself.

With shaky fingers, you reached for the phone, answered the caller, and put it on speaker. “H-Hello? Katayama?”

Katayama was the name of one of your co-stars. Or, in other words, the blonde dude, which Sukuna kept mentioning earlier.

“Hey, you! It’s pretty late right now, perfect time for us to go out and get some drinks, y’know? I’m a bit bored, as of lately.”

You were about to respond with an apologetic declination to his offer, but Sukuna cut you off as he roughly lifted up your hips and abruptly slammed them back down, causing you to choke back a moan, and cover it up with a faux series of coughs. “I’m, ah, a little . . . busy,” you whimpered, wincing at the tight grip on your hips—which was sure to leave a bruise in the morning, “right now.”

“Are you sick?”

“Uhm, no—I mean, yes!” You let out another fake cough just to seal the deal. “Yup, just a little under the weather.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a string of moans and curses as Sukuna continued slamming your hips up and down onto his.

“Well, if you’re ever in need of an extra warm blanket, don’t be afraid to—”

“Hahh.” A breathy moan slipped past your lips, and you could practically see the surprised look that was probably on Katayama’s face right now.

“—call . . . me. Uhm, are you sure you’re sick? You sound like you’re in the middle of . . . something. Is everything okay—?”

“Yup! Yeah, everything is totally okay,” you forced out, with an enthusiastic tone. Gripping Sukuna’s shoulder with your free hand for leverage, you shut your eyes tight as you quickly ended the call. “I’m a little occupied at the moment, I’ll call you ba—I’m gonna go. Bye!”

As swiftly as you hung up the call, you threw your phone across the couch, and let out all of the noises you had been previously bottling up.

“I’m so c-close.” You mewled, now even more desperate than you were before.

“If you dare cum,” Sukuna began, his voice low, “I’ll stop.”

“Sukuna!” You whined, scratching at his back and leaving little crescent shaped marks from your nails on his tricep. “I need to—ahnn!”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held onto Sukuna’s shoulders for dear life as he quickened his pace. Lifting your hips up with ease, and slamming them back down with equal force. Fucked out of your mind was not enough to describe your current state, as your eyes rolled back into your head, and your lipstick was smudged across your mouth.

Sukuna leaned down to whisper into your ear, never stopping his movements. “Bet the little blondie didn’t fuck you like this, huh?”

It was obvious that Sukuna wasn’t an insecure guy; I mean, he had no reason to be. He had nice muscles, a good body, overall, sharp features, tempting eyes, and tattoos for days. But, you had to admit, the spark of jealousy was definitely a good look on Sukuna, one that you wouldn’t mind seeing every once in a while, if it meant seeing him like . . . this.

“. . .S-Sukuna, we never—we never even fucked in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah? How long you been without cock, then, huh? Must be why you’ve been acting like such a bitch. I almost feel bad; all this time, my baby’s just been depraved.”

“. . .F-fuck you,” you shivered, body practically shaking with need.

“No need to state the obvious, sweetheart. Fuck, even your tears taste sweet,” Sukuna groaned, licking a stripe up your cheek. “It’s as if you were literally made for me to devour.”

“Please, please let me cum! I’m so—hnngh—close.”

“Yeah, no. C’mon, I know my girl can last just a little longer, can’t you?” Sukuna grinned, biting his lip as he admired your dazed state. He hadn’t been able to touch you in three months, ninety days, 504 hours. If anyone was going to get their fill, it was him.

—

“Oh!” Your stylist exclaimed, after walking into your dressing room and noticing you lying asleep on the couch. “You’re already here. And, Sukuna’s here, too. Wait. . . SUKUNA’S HERE, TOO!?”

[hyuniepies]

Chef's Kiss - Bang Chan

pairing : bangchan x fem!reader

summary : your husband chan came home from a long day at work and knew exactly what he needed to relax.

contains : soft dom!chan, unprotected sex, fingering, size kink, belly bulge, slight overstimulation

words : 2.2k

Ever since you and Chan got married, it felt like the two of you managed to grow even more obsessed with each other. Whether you were at work or running errands, all you could think about was seeing him and you found it impossible to put off the urge to be with him at all times. You knew the problem was mutual as Chan had gotten so much more clingy, unable to spend a single second away from you.

However it soon became so much harder for you to spend time together as work piled up and your hectic schedules failed to align. At times you would come home late from work and find him passed out on the couch, and other times you would fall asleep waiting for him.

The clock strikes nine as you stand in front of the stove, stirring the pan of pasta as the savoury aroma lingers in the air. The only audible sound was the bubbling of the thick pasta sauce and your occasional sighs as you waited for Chan to arrive from his work meeting which happened to go on for a lot longer than you liked.

Just as your frustration starts to kick in, you hear the front door swing open and the sound of your husband Chan’s comforting voice echoes through your shared apartment.

“Baby I'm home.” He calls out to you as he drops his bag and walks to the kitchen. You look over your shoulder and there he is, standing with a soft smile which sadly failed to conceal his exhaustion. Your face lights up as you feel his soothing presence envelop you.

He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, his tired face resting in the crook of your neck.

“Mmm smells so good.” He mutters as he takes a long inhale and you're unsure if he refers to the food you're cooking.

“I know you're starving but it's almost done, so just a few more minutes.” You tell him and shift your attention back to the pan of pasta.

“Well, then can I spend some time with the chef first?” He asks as he plants a small kiss on the skin of your neck.

You can't help but giggle, “You could but, then you'll have to eat a cold dinner.”

“It's alright.” he mumbles in your neck as his right hand reaches for the stove knob and twists it, turning it off.

You turn around to face him, your expression a mixture of affection and concern as you stare at him. “You literally just got back, you need some rest.”

Chan’s grip around your waist tightens and he pulls you closer to himself, his body flush against yours. “But…I need you more.” He whispers as his hand sneaks behind you to find the flesh of your ass and gives it a light squeeze.

You wince at his sudden touch and look up at him. He lifts his other arm and uses his fingers to cup your face as he gently strokes his thumb across your cheek. The look on his face is soft yet filled with desire as his half-lidded eyes stare into yours.

His eyes shift to your lips and his face slowly gets closer, and closer to yours until your face is just a few inches apart from his. You shut your eyes closed and instantly feel his plump lips delicately press onto yours.

The kiss starts off sweet and slow, your lips gracefully moving against each other in a perfect rhythm, as if meant to fit together. Even though it was nothing special, your heart is racing as if it's the first time you've ever kissed.

Chan grows impatient and flicks his tongue against your lips, demanding your permission. You are quick to respond and soon enough, the movements of your hot mouths become faster and more aggressive.

His hand drops from your face to hook tightly around your waist and he picks you up. You immediately wrap your legs around his torso and grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you continue kissing him.

He turns around and takes a few steps towards the kitchen counter opposite to the stove, placing you on the cold marble surface. Chan pulls away and his mouth trails down to suck at the soft skin of your neck and exposed collarbones.

You tip your head back slightly, giving him better access to work his mouth on every inch of your burning skin. You hold the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair as small sighs of pleasure escape your throat.

You feel his hand crawl under your sweater to gently massage the tender flesh of your breast, his fingertips circling around your perked nipple. He lightly pinches and rolls the hardened bud between his index finger and thumb.

“Ah…” A quiet moan slips from your lips, and you tug on the strands of his hair as the overwhelming feeling engulfs you.

Your reaction tempts Chan and he uses his free hand to cup the mound of your pussy, slowly palming it through the thin fabric of your shorts.

“So wet already?” He pulls back from your neck and taunts you as his fingers rub the moist patch you didn't even realize was forming on the cotton.

He skillfully slides his fingers up and down your clothed pussy and you bite your lip, your cunt dripping even wetter at the blissful sensation. Your clit throbs painfully in the confines of your soaking shorts, begging to be touched as his piercing eyes stare into yours. This makes you roll your hips towards him in an attempt to push his fingers deeper inside your folds.

“God, you're so desperate.” He utters in a low voice.

His hand stops moving and you suddenly feel his finger add pressure on the aching bundle of nerves in your pussy. Your back arches, head jerking back at the immense wave of arousal washing over you.

“Ugh- Chan…” You whimper in a pathetic tone as your hand drops from his head to grip the edge of the countertop.

“You like that?” He presses even harder on your swollen clit, while his other hand drops from your tit to rest on your thigh.

“Chan, please…” 

“Please what?” He questions.

“I want you.”

“Come on, you can do better than that.” He says as he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit.

Your body squirms, unable to contain the heat pooling at your core any longer. 

“Ah- please, I want you to fuck me.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes, mouth slightly parted and his expression softens at the sight. He removes his hand from your thigh and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then I should give my baby what she wants.” His fingers grip the soft wool of your sweater and pull it up, taking it off of you and tossing it on the floor. He takes a second to admire your body, his eyes shifting from the hickeys he just left to your bare tits.

Chan reaches for the waistband of your shorts and you lift your hips up, making it easier for him to peel the piece of fabric off. You sit in front of him fully naked and he traces your figure with his eyes as if he had never seen you like this before.

“You're so fucking hot you know that?” He asks as his eyes come back up to meet yours and a shy smile spreads on your face.

Before you know it, his hand is back on your pussy, this time without the annoying fabric separating you from his touch. His digits travel downward till they lightly hover over your slicked core and without warning, his finger slips knuckle deep inside you.

“S-shit.” The sudden sensation makes you whimper and soon after, you feel him add another finger inside your aching cunt. He slowly pumps his long fingers in and out of you, small moans falling from your lips as your eyes pinch close.

He pulls his fingers out of you and you let out a sad whine at the loss of stimulation and look up at him.

“Lay back for me.” Chan commands, his voice almost a whisper.

You immediately lean backwards till the skin of your back hits the cool marble, your feet dangling in the air. His hands rush to unbutton his work shirt and he takes it off of himself before unzipping his pants. He pulls it down along with his underwear and you spread your legs even further apart, your juices dripping out onto the counter.

His cock jumps out, precum leaking from the red tip as he wraps his fingers around the thick shaft. Even though you've taken it so many times before, the sheer size of it never fails to intimidate you.

He taps his dick on your soppy cunt a few times, watching it clench around nothing in desperation. He slowly guides his fat tip into your hole and your jaw falls open as you feel your pussy stretch around his thick cock. 

“Fuck, you're so tight.” He curses under his breath.

He continues pushing himself inside you inch by inch and your vision starts to blur, the heat in your abdomen threatening to spill.

“It’s s-so big.” You cry out as he fills you up.

“But you're taking me so well baby.”

Chan lets out a deep groan as the last bit of his length enters you and you feel his tip press against your cervix. Your brain goes fuzzy, the blood in your arteries boiling hot as he bottoms out in you.

“Your pretty pussy’s sucking me right in.” He praises as you clench around his base, pulling him deeper inside your gummy walls. His hands grab the back of your knees and he presses your legs down till they touch your chest, folding you in half.

He slides his dick out of you, till only his tip remains in your drenched cunt and slams it back into you with a harsh jerk of his hips. You feel the head of his cock hit the soft spot in your belly even harder this time.

“Ah- fuck!” A loud moan escapes your throat as he starts pounding in and out of your pussy at a fast pace and your body jolts up. You feel your bones turn to jelly, stars twinkling across your closed eyelids as the hot pit in your stomach sends vibrations through your nerves.

You lift your head from where it rested on the counter and look down to see his cock repeatedly bulge out of your belly with each thrust of his hips.

“Ugh- you're so deep!” You whine as the heat at your core continues spreading through you.

He lets go of one of your legs and places his veiny hand on your lower belly, pressing down on the bulge. He simultaneously picks up his pace, ramming into your spongy walls harder and faster and you throw your head back, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

“God, right there!” You almost yell out as his cock kisses your sweet spot over and over again. Chan's heavy panting mixed with the lewd squelching sounds of your pussy fill the kitchen air, but you are too fucked out to hear any of it.

His hands grab your waist, nails digging crescent shapes into your skin as you feel his veins pulsate and twitch inside your puffy cunt. 

“Fucking shit!” He swears in a raspy voice.

His fingers move down to toy with your sensitive clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your toes curl as you feel the familiar sensation build up between your legs, waiting to throw you over the edge anytime now.

“G-gonna cum!” You whimper loudly.

His next thrust hits you harder than you expect and sends your mind spiraling into another dimension as your long awaited orgasm rips through you. You squeal in a high pitched voice, your body shaking as Chan fucks you through your high.

“There you go baby, cum on my cock like a good girl.” He says as he chases his own high, his pace unsteady and sloppy. 

He continues fucking into your overstimulated pussy and your muscles tightens, the intense pleasure almost unbearable. You open your eyes slightly and through your blurred vision, see Chan's eyes shut and his brows furrowed. 

“Gonna fill you up so nice.”

Before your brain can process his words, he shoots his load deep into you as a low grunt exits his lips. You gasp as the warm white strings coat your walls and fill you up. 

His thrusts slow down as he rides out his high, his cock sticky with your wetness and his own cum. He stops moving and pulls his dick out of your pussy, his cum dripping out of your hole.

You lay on the countertop, your chest rising and falling with each breath you take. You have no energy left in your body to sit up or enough brainpower to even try and Chan knows that.

He hooks his arm under your waist as his other hand supports the back of your neck and he pulls you up into his embrace. He holds you tight, the comforting warmth of his skin seeping into your body and you almost fall asleep right there.

“I missed you.” He says in a soft voice as he strokes your hair.

“I missed you too.”

[littlelamy]

i luv shopaholic reader🛍️how about when she comes back him from a long day of shopping she makes rafe sit down and look at everything she got bonus if barry happens to be there😭

a/n: i am happy you love her! i was so scared to write out the ask so i feel so much better know so many people like shopaholic reader! 😝thank you for sending a request 🤍

you push open the door with a grin, arms heavy with bags from your long day out. the living room lights cast a warm glow, and you spot rafe lounging on the couch, his long legs stretched out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest. barry is there too, slouched next to him, probably running his mouth as usual.

rafe’s eyes land on you immediately, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "well, well, look who’s back," he drawls, glancing at the mountain of bags in your hands. "how much damage did you do today?"

you step into the room, dropping your bags with a dramatic sigh. "enough," you tease, leaning down to start rummaging through your purchases. "and now you get to sit here and admire all the amazing things i got."

barry chuckles from the other side of the couch. "oh, this should be good. let’s see what you got for pretty boy over here."

rafe rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat. "barry, shut up."

you pull out the first item, a sleek black dress that you’re particularly excited about, holding it up against your body and giving a little twirl. "so… what do you think? date night material?"

rafe’s gaze darkens, his eyes raking over you slowly. "definitely. though i’d prefer if you weren’t wearing anything at all."

you toss the dress at him, heat creeping up your cheeks. "behave."

rafe catches the dress, his smirk widening as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "come here and i might."

barry snickers. "damn, she’s got you real bad, huh?"

ignoring barry, you pull out a pair of shoes next. "these? i bought just because i knew they’d drive you crazy."

rafe’s eyes flick down to the strappy heels, and you can see the flicker of approval in his gaze. "put ‘em on."

"you wish." you flash him a playful smile, slipping the heels back into the box. "maybe if you’re good."

barry throws his head back, laughing. "this is better than i thought. i’m staying."

rafe’s eyes narrow at barry, but he turns his attention back to you, a more dangerous edge to his voice. "you really gonna make me sit here and watch you play dress-up all night, or are you gonna come over here and give me a real show?"

you walk closer, your eyes locking with his, the tension crackling between you. "a real show, huh?" you lean down just enough so that your lips are inches from his. "what do i get out of it?"

rafe’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you the rest of the way until you're sitting in his lap. "you’ll get more than you can handle."

barry rolls his eyes. "okay, i’m outta here before it gets x-rated."

you laugh, but the sound fades as rafe's hand slides up your thigh, his lips brushing against your ear. "now, show me what else you bought, or i’ll lose interest real fast."

you smirk, giving him a teasing look. "oh, i don’t think you’re gonna lose interest anytime soon."

taglist (if you want to be added comment below): princessslutt averyoceanblvd iknowthatsrightbih starkeysprincess sixrosberg anamiad00msday

[sungstars]

fall off. | pjs x fem!reader

i.e your boyfriend is so shy and you have so much fun making him flustered!

content warning: smut! (18+ only, mdni!!), oral (f. rec), fingering (f. rec), implied dom!sung sorta… established relationship!

word count: 1.6k (not proof read sawri)

author's note: this is entirely based off of that tiktok sound that goes "come here bae come sit next to me come and take ur draws off damn u on the edge of the bed u about to fall off!" i had sososos much fun writing this :3 i love freaky shy jisung! likes & reblogs are very appreciated and i hope u guys enjoy reading this!! also i finished this before the hurricane hits because i have nothing better to do for the next few hours LOL... will try to get some more stuff out over the next few days!

"come sit next to me," you patted the empty space on your bed as you looked across at your boyfriend, jisung, "why are you so nervous?"

jisung was gripping his jeans so hard his knuckles were turning white and ears flushed fiery red, "oh. i'm okay right here. thanks."

his words were coming out very strained and jisung couldn't even bring himself to look at you, "it's really warm in here."

"you are wearing jeans and a hoodie, as well as a long sleeve shirt underneath it," you replied, leaning back against your pillows and extending your legs out, "you could take them off."

jisung's voice got caught in his throat, face turning beet red, "all of it?"

you giggled, poking his side gently with your foot, "sure. make sure you take your underwear off too."

it took everything in you to not bust into laughter at your boyfriend, and it took everything in jisung to try not to implode from embarrassment.

jisung was by no means a virgin, he had a plethora of sex before the two of you started dating. there was just something about you that made him so nervous to be intimate with you.

you had your fair share of make out sessions, always ending up with you in his lap and sucking dark hickeys into his neck, but anytime the two of you tried to do more, he just froze up and couldn't.

of course you never made him feel bad about it. you found it endearing and cute how nervous he was. even when jisung mentioned that he never had this issue before, you didn't get upset. you were so understanding.

"jisung," you sat up on your elbows, "come back to me. you started wondering off in your little world again."

he muttered out a quick sorry, starting to fan his face gently to calm down this heat in his face. you watched him in adoration, smiling because he was just too cute when he was flustered.

however, your head tilted in concern when you saw how far off the bed he was, "sung, you're about to fall off of the bed."

"oh. didn't even notice." he scratched the back of his head, adjusting his positioning on the bed, leaning against the wall, "sorry."

the two of you fell into a silence, comfortable for you, but awkward for jisung. you stretched your legs out to lay across his lap as you rested against the pillows again and closing your eyes.

jisung didn't know what to do or say. he's been in your room before, so he's not sure why he feels so. . . hot. the temperature isn't too high, and he's been in physical contact with you.

he really wants to get more physical, to make you feel good and fall apart from pleasure that he knows he can inflict upon you. there was just. . . something that made him nervous about doing it. maybe he didn't want to disappoint you because unlike other people he's slept with, you are a constant presence in his life.

and also, most of the people he's slept with were drunk freshman year experiences.

he just needed to stop thinking about the what ifs. jisung needed to stop thinking in general, he just needed to do it. he was more than capable of doing these things to you.

"stop thinking." he told himself as he looked at your legs across his lap, drumming his fingers against them, "just do it."

"fuck it, we ball." he squeezed his eyes shut before adjusting himself to stand on his knees, pushing your legs gently to stand between them.

your eyes fluttered open, looking up at your boyfriend who had an unreadable expression on his face, "everything okay, ji?"

jisung nodded, his hands coming up to unzip his hoodie before shrugging it off and tossing it behind him, "y-yeah."

you smiled up at him, gazing at his defined arms before finding his eyes again, "you look handsome."

his cheeks turned a rosy pink which caused him to mentally curse because he just got that hue to leave his face, "you look pretty. you always do."

"what's on your mind?"

with a strong exhale through his nose, jisung pushed all of these nervous thoughts that returned down and pressed his lips against yours.

a surprised noise escaped you, but you brought your arms to wrap around his neck and kissing him back. one of his hands brought your leg to his hip, pressing his growing erection into you and causing you to part your lips slightly.

jisung took his opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and you gently tugged on the nape of his hair. a moan escaped the man above you, causing you to pull on it again to get another noise out of him.

his hands began to wonder between the two of you, starting to travel underneath the material of your camisole, fingers dancing lightly against the expanse of your stomach.

the boy pulled away from you slightly, his lips slightly swollen and eyes full of desire, "can i. . .can i touch you, y/n?"

"of course you can, ji." you said softly, hands rubbing up and down his chest, "you can do whatever you want."

he gently pushed your shirt up until it reached your collarbones, breath hitching when he saw that you weren't wearing a bra.

you watched him for a moment, wondering if he would touch you or get flustered and pull your shirt back down over your tits.

instead, he caught you by surprise and leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth while rolling the other one around between his fingers.

a noise of pleasure escaped you, bringing your hands up to his hair to pull on it once more.

jisung switched between your tits constantly, making sure to show them an equal amount of attention before removing them from his mouth and continuing to kiss down your stomach.

the cold air coming into contact with your now hard nipples caused you to whimper, jisung looking up at you with concern.

"are you okay? should i stop?" he asked, pulling himself up to check on you, which you quickly stopped by pushing his head back down.

"i'm fine, perfect actually," you flashed a reassuring smile at him, "continue, please."

he nodded, beginning to kiss your stomach once more, his hands moving their way up to your shorts.

jisung gently dipped his fingers into your waistband, slowly starting to pull them down to your hips.

his lips followed behind, kissing over the hibiscus tattoo that began to fade after years without a touch up, grazing his teeth over the skin lightly.

“no panties?” he murmured against your skin, biting down harshly, “hah. . . it’s like you planned this.”

you smiled mischeviously at the boy between your thighs, threading your hand through his hair, "wishful thinking."

"don't think," he said in between kisses, pulling your shorts down your thighs and over your ankles, tossing them behind him, "just focus on me."

jisung grabbed one of your legs, adjusting himself before placing your knee over his shoulder and attaching his lips to your inner thighs.

you felt your heartrate pick up, nervous at what was to come next. you talked a big game because you didn't actually think anything would come from teasing jisung.

his lips traveled closer to your core, but instead focused on sucking light marks into your skin. jisung wanted to see how desperate you could get for him, even though he wanted nothing more but to taste.

"ji," you whined out, tugging on his hair harshly, "don't be a fuckin' tease. you were just acting like a virgin who's never even touched a girl before."

annoyance crept up on jisung, rolling his eyes in disbelief. there was no way he was gonna let you talk to him like that when you both know he is far from a virgin.

"talking a lot for somebody who wants to be touched," he muttered back, using two of his fingers to spread your lips open and admiring how glistening your cunt was, "she's practically drooling for him."

your face flushed at how vulgar he was, but oh you were eating it up on the inside. this is exactly what you wanted, jisung to snap and show you how nasty he was under that shy boy exterior, "then do something about it."

jisung ignored your comment, blowing air on you cunt to make you shut up. he was going to get you to beg, no matter how long it took or how much he desired to lick you clean, "ask nicely."

"i'm not asking for shit," you spat, faux irritation escaping you, "we both know you wanna eat it anyway."

you got him there, he couldn't lie. however, he knew what game you were playing, and he decided to give in, "you're right."

a victorious look on your face quickly contorted to one of pleasure when jisung wrapped his plush lips around your clit.

a high pitched whine left your lips when his teeth gently grazed your bundle of nerves before letting his tongue lick down your slit.

your grip in his hair tightened when you felt his tongue move skillfully as he teased your hole with one of his fingers. the one wrapped around your thigh began digging crescents into your skin, the boy between your legs moaning into your cunt.

"fuck ji," you breathed out when his finger slid into you, gently pumping in and out, "fuck it feels so good."

the boy pulled away for a moment, looking up at you with your juices glossing his lips and dripping down his chin, "good because i don't plan on stopping anytime soon."

END

pt. 2 ???

[ginkgooou]

dance lessons | alexia putellas

summary: you and alexia try dancing.

this one took a while; i rewrote it like three times before i was finally happy with it. i'm no expert in dancing, but i tried my best to describe the moves. i hope you enjoy! feel free to send feedback or requests. 😄

english is not my first language.

4,272 words

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

you were out with alba, leisurely strolling through the city, when you came across two people handing out flyers. as you were about to walk past, one of them stepped forward, stopping you with a friendly smile.

“hey, do you two want to try a dance class?”, the woman asked you, offering you a flyer.

alba just shook her head. “no, thank you.”

you stopped, intrigued, taking the flyer from her hand and looking over it. it seemed like a fun idea, something you could do with alexia - an opportunity to try something new together.

as you skimmed the paper, the lady explained, “we teach ballroom and latin dances. it's for beginners, so anyone can join. you can sign up online if you're interested. the website's on the flyer.”

you nodded thoughtfully, looking up at her with a small smile. “thank you. i'll think about it.”

with that, you turned to alba, who linked her arm with yours as you walked away. she gave you a knowing look. “you sure ale will do it with you?”

with a smirk, you replied, “i have my ways.”

☆

well, your way was simply signing both you and alexia up for the course without telling her. after three years together, you knew your girlfriend very well and you knew if you'd asked her, she would've immediately said no.

alexia loved her routines, finding comfort in the structure of her days. they gave her a sense of control in a world that often felt too chaotic.

you understood that and respected it, but every now and then, you'd try to pull her out of her comfort zone a little. a new restaurant, an unexpected detour through the city or, when time allowed, a spontaneous road trip - just small things. it was always a struggle to get her to agree to your ideas. alexia could be very stubborn, but you always found a way to persuade her.

you knew that this time would be particularly difficult as it wasn't a one-time thing like usual; the dance course would last over several weeks. you could already picture your girlfriend's grumpy face, insisting she didn't want to go, claiming that she had football and no time for something like this.

but, you'd already made a plan.

first, you decided that instead of ordering in, you'd make dinner. you settled on cooking pasta with the homemade sauce that she liked so much, hoping it would put her in a good mood.

you had just started on the sauce when you heard the soft click of the front door echoing through the apartment. it was quickly followed by the muffled sound of footsteps and the soft thud of alexia's bag being dropped on the floor.

a few moments later, you felt your girlfriend's strong arms wrap around your waist, her familiar warmth bringing a smile to your face. she placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder before resting her head there with a soft sigh.

“hola, mi amor. i missed you.”, she mumbled, her voice tinged with fatigue.

turning your head slightly, you gave her a quick peck on her lips, whispering, “missed you too. how was training?”

“good. lots of things to work on.”, she replied.

as you continued making the sauce, alexia stayed wrapped around you, watching you cook. “ale?”, you said gently.

she hummed in response, letting you know she was listening.

“why don't you go shower? dinner will be ready soon.”

alexia just pressed herself closer, burying her head in your neck, making you chuckle at her clinginess. “baby, come on.”

“vale.”, your girlfriend grumbled, clearly reluctant to let go. with a sigh, she finally released her hold on you and headed upstairs.

while she showered, you finished preparing dinner and began setting the table. you were just plating the food, when you heard alexia coming back downstairs.

you looked up to see your girlfriend padding into the kitchen, her wet hair falling over her shoulders, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants.

“it smells amazing, amor.”, she said, coming over and kissing your cheek. you smiled at her, turning back to the plates. “go sit down. i'll be right over.”

alexia nodded and made her way to the table, taking a seat and pouring two glasses of water.

once you finished plating, you walked over, setting the dishes on the table before sitting down beside her.

both of you eagerly dug in, conversation flowing effortlessly throughout the meal. between bites, alexia recounted her day, telling you about the intense drills, funny moments with her teammates and the interview she had to do while also asking about your day.

once you finished dinner, the conversation and you watched as the tension slowly melted away from her shoulders. her tone became lighter and more relaxed. you knew this was the perfect moment to bring up the dance class.

you glanced at her with a smile. “oh, i forgot to tell you! i was out with alba today. we went for lunch and then just wandered around.”, you began casually. “funny story, actually - we walked past some people handing out flyers.”, you continued, chuckling nervously as you watched your girlfriend closely.

alexia eyed you with suspicion. “what did you do?”, she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“well.”, you started, clearing your throat, “they were promoting their dance classes. i checked out the website - it looks really cool and professional.” you paused, grinning excitedly at alexia, “so, i signed us up for the course! it starts on monday.”

“no.”, your girlfriend said immediately, shaking her head. “no, no, no. we are not doing that.” you laughed at her instant refusal, expecting nothing less.

“come on, ale. it'll be fun.”, you urged, trying to convince her.

“no! i don't have time. i have football.”, alexia argued, crossing her arms defiantly. “sorry, amor, but it's just not happening.”

you sighed, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. “please? for me?”

your girlfriend quickly looked away, knowing she would crumble if she looked at you much longer. “..no.”, she repeated, but her voice lacked the firmness it had before.

sensing she just needed one more little push, you proceeded with part two of your plan.

you scooted back and stood up, alexia's eyes following you as you moved to straddle her lap, your arms wrapping around her shoulders while hers instinctively fell to your hips. she slightly leaned back in her chair, making room for you.

you slowly leaned in, lips nearly touching. “please?”, you asked again, your lips brushing hers.

you could see alexia's resolve wavering and you knew you almost had her. closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips softly against hers. when you pulled away, your girlfriend chased your lips, clearly not ready for the kiss to end yet.

“for me, baby?”, you asked again, a smile forming on your lips.

alexia opened her eyes, gazing up at you. after a few seconds of silence, she sighed dramatically. “i hate you.”

your grin only widened. “so you'll go with me?”

“yes.”, she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “but i don't like it.”

“thank you, thank you, thank you!”, you squealed, showering her face with kisses. your girlfriend tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn't suppress the wide smile spreading on her lips.

☆

it was monday evening, just before 6 pm, and the dance studio was filled with people. you stood near the back, surrounded by couples who were much older than you, their chatter filling the air. shifting nervously, you glanced at the door for what felt like the hundredth time.

alexia was late.

you two had agreed to come here separately, since your girlfriend had a late interview. she had assured you she would make it, but as the clock crept closer to 6, doubt started to creep in.

when it was time for the lesson to start, the two instructors, a woman with a warm smile and a tall man with black hair, stepped forward.

“hello everyone and welcome to the course! i'm isabella and this is my partner, luis.”, the woman said enthusiastically, her voice carrying across the room. “over the next few weeks, we'll be teaching you how to dance.”

you were trying to listen, but your thoughts kept wandering to alexia. as isabella started to explain a bit more about the class, the door suddenly swung open. your girlfriend burst through, slightly out of breath, still wearing her training kit.

“lo siento!”, she called out, blushing as she realized that everyone was looking at her. for a second, she scanned the room, her gaze darting past the curious looks before landing on you.

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as your girlfriend hurried over, weaving through the people. when she reached you, she leaned in for a quick kiss. “i'm sorry.”, she whispered apologetically. “i didn't mean to be this late. the interview took longer than expected.”

you smiled at her, shaking your head. “it's fine. you're here now.”

alexia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she looked around, clearly feeling out of place in her kit. “i didn't have time to change.”, she muttered, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

“don't worry about it.”, you said softly, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

someone clearing their throat beside you interrupted your whispering. you turned to see an older man giving you both a disapproving look. “could you stop talking? we're trying to listen.”, he said, sounding annoyed.

“sorry, we'll stop.”, you quickly apologized, flashing him a polite smile.

though, when you turned to your girlfriend and your eyes met hers, you let out a giggle. alexia couldn't suppress a grin, quietly shushing you and gesturing to the front.

you tuned back in just in time to catch isabella's last words. "so, our first dance will be a slow waltz," she began with a smile. "but before we begin, let's go over the hold."

she turned to luis, who took her hand in his as they stepped into position. he placed his right hand gently on isabella’s shoulder blade, while she rested her left hand on his upper arm. their free hands met between them. “the lead,” he explained, “places his right hand on the follow’s back, just here, and the follow’s left hand goes on the lead’s arm. your other hands meet, like so.” they turned in a circle so everyone could see clearly. they invited you to try it out, moving through the room and giving tips when needed.

“okay! now to the box step. it is really simple.”, isabella said. “the lead steps forward with their left foot. the follow steps back with their right.”

on cue, they moved, their feet sweeping across the floor in perfect synchronization. “step forward,” luis said, narrating his movement, “then side with the right foot, and bring your left foot to your right. then, you’ll step back with the right foot, side with the left, and close the feet again. that completes the box.”

you shifted your weight slightly, looking at alexia, who was staring at the instructors as if this dance was a tactical briefing before a big match. her brow was furrowed in concentration, which made you grin.

after they had showed you the movement a few more times, isabella smiled encouragingly at the class. “now, it’s time for you to try. we’ll walk around and help you.”

you turned to alexia, a playful glint in your eye. “so,” you began, raising an eyebrow, “who’s going to lead?”

your girlfriend chuckled, moving closer with a confident grin. “me, of course.” she tried to get into position, placing her hand on your shoulder blade, but you stepped back, not ready to give up just yet.

“but what if i want to lead?”, you asked hopefully. alexia shook her head. “no, i lead. no arguments.”

you huffed, pouting slightly as you mumbled, “so not fair.”

with a sigh, you finally let her step closer and take hold of you while you rested your hand on her upper arm. you could feel the warmth of her hand against your back, and despite your earlier protest, an excited smile crept on your face. “well, then. lead the way, capitana.”, you told her, laughing as she shot you an annoyed look at the nickname.

as it came to trying the steps, you could feel alexia’s earlier confidence beginning to waver slightly. she bit her lip, glancing down at her feet, and then stepped forward with her left. you weren’t ready yet and stumbled a little as you quickly tried to follow her lead and move backward, but you couldn’t hold your balance and accidentally stepped on her toes.

“oops, sorry!”, you blurted out, pulling back.

alexia just shook her head, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “no, it was my fault.”, she said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “okay. let’s try again.”

you both repositioned yourselves and tried again. this time, you were ready and as she took a step forward, you moved back with your right foot, staying in the rhythm. alexia was incredibly focused, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“forward, side, close.”, she murmured to herself, following the steps. the determination in her eyes made you smile, but you could also feel the tension in her body. “hey, ale.”, you said softly, catching her attention. when she looked up at you, you continued, “try to relax. this is just for fun.”

your girlfriend took a deep breath, trying to let go of the pressure. “you’re right. just for fun.”, she replied, smiling at you.

after a few minutes, isabella made her way over to you. “good! that’s good.”, she praised, offering a warm smile. “but try not to look down at your feet. keep your eyes on each other or look over the left shoulder.” she gestured for you to step closer together. “you can also move closer together. it will help you feel the movements and make it easier to follow the lead.”

you and alexia nodded, moving closer, and got back into position. your eyes met and a soft smile passed between you. when alexia stepped forward this time, you could feel the shift in her weight, making it easier to anticipate her next move. the closeness made everything smoother, as if you were more in tune with each other.

“that's much better!”, isabella remarked before moving on to help the next couple.

after the first successful attempt, you tried the box step again. but it was alexia who faltered this time, accidentally stepping on your toes. “i'm so sorry.”, she muttered, her cheeks flushing as her gaze shifted over your shoulder, embarrassed. “it's just…”, she trailed off, meeting your eyes for a brief second before quickly looking down at her feet. “it's hard to concentrate with you so close.”, your girlfriend admitted softly, biting her lip.

you smiled at her confession, finding it incredibly endearing that even after all this time, you still had this effect on her. you couldn't help but press a quick kiss to her cheek. “i love you.”, you told her as you pulled away, catching the soft smile that lit up her face.

alexia's hand pressed gently against your back, drawing you closer, her eyes sparkling with affection. “te quiero.”, she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, making your heart flutter.

suddenly, luis’ voice cut through, interrupting the moment between you. “alright, now that everyone's practiced the box step, let's learn the turning box.”, he announced, moving to the front of the room. “isabella and i will demonstrate.”

alexia cleared her throat and let go of you, turning her attention to the instructors.

luis took a moment to position himself with isabella. “the lead steps forward with the left foot, but this time, instead of moving straight, you'll turn slightly to the left.”, he began, showcasing the first move.

“as you step to the side with the right foot, your body should turn about 90° to the left.”, he continued, guiding isabella through the movement. “then, step with the left foot next to the right.”

they showed you the turns a few more times, with isabella also guiding you through the follow's role. as the demonstration concluded, luis turned to you all with a smile. “now it's your turn again.”

you and alexia quickly got back into position. “ready?”, your girlfriend asked, looking at you with a soft smile. “yes”, you answered.

you tried it slowly, wanting to get a feel for the added movement. it worked surprisingly well; you barely had to think about it as alexia confidently led you into the turn.

alexia was focused on the steps, murmuring them quietly under her breath. with each turn, you got more comfortable, feeling more confident in your steps.

encouraged by how well it worked, alexia picked up the pace a little and soon, you were gliding across the floor. just as you executed a smooth turn, you suddenly became aware of another couple moving in the opposite direction.

before you could react, you collided with them - your shoulder bumping into the man's side while alexia accidentally stepped on the woman's toes.

“oh no, sorry!”, alexia exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you, on the other hand, struggled to keep your laughter in as you turned to the couple, who looked just as surprised, but quickly joined you in the laughter. the man shook his head, waving off the mishap with a hrin. “it happens to the best of us.”

once you repositioned yourselves, you began anew, alexia now more aware of her surroundings. but the collision seemed to have made her relax more, smiling slightly while continuing to dance.

when luis approached, he smiled brightly at you. “that's really good!”, he said, nodding with approval. “keep it up!” the praise filled you with confidence and when you looked at alexia, you found her beaming with delight, her eyes sparkling with pride.

after a few more minutes, isabella moved to the sound system and put on music. “now, let's try it with music.”, she said enthusiastically.

as the melody of a slow waltz filled the room, everything changed. the soft notes wrapped around you, making the steps feel more fluid and natural, the rythm guiding your movements. alexia's confidence grew with every turn, leading you through the dance seamlessly.

you spent the remainder of the class learning more about the waltz, with luca and isabella showing you new steps here and there.

as you laid in bed that night, you turned to face her. “so, how did you like the class?”, you asked softly.

alexia shifted slightly, turning her head to meet your gaze in the dark. a small smile tugged at her lips. “i actually liked it.”, she admitted.

you raised an eyebrow, teasing her. “really? that's funny, considering someone didn't want to go at first.”

she chuckled, her hand reaching out to playfully nudge your arm. “yeah, yeah. but, really, it was fun.” her fingers intertwined with yours under the covers.

you grinned, satisfied with her confession. “i told you it would be.”

alexia sighed softly, leaning in to kiss you. “it was only fun because i did it with you.”

you smiled, your heart fluttering at her words. alexia wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer, her warmth lulling you to sleep.

☆

over the next few weeks, you continued going to the dance studio every monday, learning something new each time. throughout the week, you tried to practice as often as you could, but time seemed to always slip away from you.

both of your schedules were packed - alexia busy with training, matches and interviews while you had your own work commitments. it usually ended up with you practicing an hour before having to leave for class. but, despite the lack of practice, you both had improved quite a lot, especially alexia.

you could see your girlfriend's confidence grow with each session, her movements becoming more fluid and graceful. she led you effortlessly through the various dance routines - slow fox, cha-cha and tango - as if she had been dancing for years. she was a natural at this.

at least, that's what it seemed like to you.

one afternoon, you decided to surprise alexia and pick her up from training. you had a free day and since alexia's car was at the mechanic, she needed someone to pick her up.

after parking your car, you made your way over toward the building's entrance. halfway there, the door swung open and the first few girls exited the building. as soon as they spotted you, their faces lit up with excitement, and they rushed over.

“hi! i haven't seen you in sooo long. i've missed you so much.”, claudia said, pulling you into a tight hug.

you smiled warmly, returning the hug. “hey, clau. i missed you, too. work's just been a lot these days.”

after claudia let go, you turned to greet patri and ona with a hug, too. meanwhile, claudia continued talking, “you should visit more often. ale’s so much nicer when you're around.”

you couldn't help but laugh at that, knowing all too well how your girlfriend could get when it came to football. “i'll talk to her.”, you replied with a grin. then, glancing toward the building, you asked, “but speaking of alexia, where is she?”

more players had started to trickle out of the building, but still no sign of your girlfriend. ona was quick to answer your question, “she wanted to do some extra practice. she's still out on the pitch.”

you turned back to the group with a grateful smile. “ah, thank you. i should've known.”, you chuckled. “i guess i'll head in to find her.”

patri grinned, nudging your arm playfully. “you'd better. otherwise, she'll be out there all day.”

you laughed, pulling each of them into a quick hug. “alright, bye guys.”, you said, the three of them echoing your words as you headed toward the building.

inside, you made your way through the familiar hallways, your footsteps quickening as you approached the pitch, the faint sound of voices drifting toward you.

but as you stepped outside, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks.

there was alexia, but instead of practicing football, she was…dancing. and with mapi, of all people. they seemed to be attempting the tango - or at least something that resembled it. your girlfriend was, of course, leading, her movements focused and graceful.

mapi, on the other hand, was clearly less enthusiastic about the whole thing. “why am i doing this? i don't want to do this!”, she complained, barely trying to follow alexia's lead.

your girlfriend, already looking annoyed, sighed in frustration. “you need to be closer. i can't do this if you're standing a mile away from me.”

mapi threw her hands up. “i don't want to be closer, i need my space! i want to be free, not glued to you!”

you stood silently at the edge of the pitch, trying to stifle your laughter as you watched the scene unfold. alexia, determined as always, restarted the routine, but mapi still kept stumbling over the steps. your girlfriend's patience was running thin, the vein on her forehead looking ready to pop.

“come on, mapi. you're not even trying now. is it really so hard to follow a few steps?” her voice rose in frustration. “it's so much easier with ingrid! why do you always have to make everything so difficult!”

“well, i am not ingrid! and i am trying!”, mapi shot back, stamping her foot and refusing to take another step. alexia took a sharp breath, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “dios mio, i've had enough! you are no help.”, she huffed, rolling her eyes. she spun around, ready to storm off the pitch, but then her eyes fell on you.

she froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “oh, no.”

you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as you stepped onto the pitch. “oh, yes.”

alexia blinked, trying to recover. “it's not what it looks like…”

you raised an eyebrow. “it looked like you were trying to dance.”, you teased, coming to a stop in front of her. “so this is what you've been up to?”

alexia blushed, looking everywhere but you, thinking of ways to get out of the situation. “it's just been a few times…”, she mumbled.

but mapi, who clearly had enough, jumped in. “a few times? she's been dragging ingrid into this for weeks! alexia stole my girlfriend - ingrid's always busy with her now. she barely even talks to me at training! and now i had to dance, too.”

you laughed, watching your girlfriend grow more embarrassed by the second. “i see. and you didn't tell me because…?”

alexia ran a hand through her hair, giving you a sheepish smile. “i just… wanted to impress you.”, she murmured quietly.

you chuckled softly, moving closer and cupping her cheek. “you're so silly, my love.”

your girlfriend wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i'm sorry?”, she said with a crooked smile.

shaking your head, you leaned in to kiss her again, only to be interrupted by loud gagging coming from mapi. “ugh, can you not? this is torture.”

you both laughed, breaking apart as alexia turned to her best friend. “you're one to talk. and just so you know, i'll never dance with you again.”

at that, mapi began to laugh happily. “thank god!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[nvieditz]

bad decisions pt 2

alexia x reader

hey everyone! sorry it took a bit for this to be done (and i apologize for the bit of a cliffhanger but i have the “rest” of this done and will be coming out so i just liked how this ended haha)

warnings: no smut just plot (smut in the next part i promise) 2k+ word count

You get back to Ana’s apartment and it’s quiet and dark. You don’t even bother turning the lights off you  hang up your keys and head to the guest bedroom you’re staying in. 

You hop in the shower quickly before putting on a big t shirt and heading to bed. Out of curiosity you turned on your phone and opened google. 

You searched Fc Barcelona Alexia

The results were… wow.

You found yourself going through the images tab and reading her description. There was an instagram account link. You couldn’t help but click on it. 

Holy 3 million followers.

You basically stalked her whole profile for an embarrassing amount of time, being blown away by all the awards and trophies she’s won. You finally put your phone down when you realized what time it was. You had to stop thinking about her. 

But how could you when that was the best sex you’ve had in a long time. 

The next morning you wake up to noise in the kitchen. Ana must be up and getting ready to go to the gym, she always goes on weekend mornings. 

You have to get some work done so you decide to head to a coffee shop and do some work there. 

You throw on some jeans and a t shirt, grab your laptop and leave your bedroom. 

But what you see in your kitchen is a surprise. 

Ana is making breakfast and one of Alexia’s friends from last night was sitting on one of the stools from the kitchen island. 

“Oh, Hi y/n I didn’t hear you come in last night,” Ana asks, just as shocked as you are. 

Alexia’s friend flashes you an awkward smile. 

“Yeah sorry I got back pretty late,” you respond which adds more awkwardness to the air. “Well, I’m heading out so have fun.” You smile as you grab your house keys and head out. 

You put on your headphones and walk towards the coffee shop you saw that looked cute. 

It was a beautiful day in Barcelona, as always. You were considering moving here since your job is work from home and you’re tired of the rainy weather back home. And, it would help you be farther away from her. 

You reach the coffee shop and order your drink before claiming a small round table and get to work. You’re the social media manager of a new language learning app so your work today was mostly research, looking into new trends and what catches people’s eye. 

But then something catches your eye. 

Or someone. 

Shit. 

There’s Alexia, in line for a coffee, with another one of the girls from last night. 

You try to pretend you didn’t see her and continue work. You focus on your work and the Fletcher song you love playing in your headphones. 

You suddenly see Alexia standing in front of your table holding her coffee. “Mind if I sit here?” she asks. 

You wanted to say no but you didn’t want to be rude. “Sure,” you said as politely as possible without trying to incite anything. 

You try your best to ignore her and continue your work, but you can feel her staring at you. You look up at her from your laptop. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” She asks, clearly annoyed. 

“Because I came here to do my job not chit chat.” you realized you snapped at her a beat too late. Her face flashed with anger. “I’m sorry, I’m just not in the best mood.” you try to salvage the situation.

“No, I mean clearly you couldn’t wait to leave yesterday so I don’t know what happened because according to… you know… you seemed like you had a good time.” she presses. 

You take a deep breath before answering. “I did have a good time,” you pause, “but if I’m being honest, I just wanted a one night thing to distract me from- well it doesn’t matter from what.” you shake off the mopey feeling creeping back up. 

She looks confused. “Ok, I don’t fully understand but I respect your boundaries.” she states but she doesn’t get up.

You look at her just as confused. She finally starts to get up but before she leaves she leans in and whispers, “Oh and you left your strap in my apartment,” she winks. “and your hair looks really good down like that.” she smiles as she walks away. 

You hide the blush her comment made you get by taking a sip of your coffee. You finally get back to work. 

You’re packing up your stuff after a few hours doing some work and your phone dings. 

Thinking it was Ana you pick up your phone immediately. 

[instagram] @alexiaputellas has started following you 

You scoff at your phone. You ignore it and put your phone away. How did she even find your profile anyway? 

You walk out of the coffee shop and head back with the intention to just relax for a few hours and maybe go grab some dinner with Ana. 

Your phone dings again.

[instagram] @alexiaputellas “when do you plan on picking up your things 😉”

You can’t help but smile because clearly she wanted to see you again, very badly. But you still felt like she wanted something more that you didn’t want. 

You ignored the message again for now and headed home with Ana. 

You walk in the door and see Ana sitting on the couch watching tv. 

“Hey,” you say as you kick your shoes off. 

“Hey where’d you go?” she asks.

You set your bag on the counter and head over to sit next to her. “I went to the coffee shop to do some work,” you reply nonchalantly. 

She looks at you for a beat. “Are you ok? You seemed off this morning. And also why were you here this morning weren’t you going home with Alexia?” her voice came off teasing at the sound of Alexia’s name. 

“Yeah I’m fine, I did go home with her but decided it was best not to stay.” you replied trying to end the conversation. 

“Well, what was it?” she asks, “Was she… bad?” she whispered jokingly. 

You laughed softly, “No, she was… great,” you smile. 

“Sooo… what was it?” she asks, clearly genuinely interested. 

You take a beat to think about what to say, “Well, I don’t know. I feel like staying would insinuate that I wanted more than just a one night thing and you know I’m not looking for anything right now, not so soon after.. you know who.” you look down sadly. 

“You can say her name you know… she’s not

voldemort,” Ana laughs, “and I understand, and I’m sorry about the whole thing with Ona this morning, I didn’t mean for it to be awkward.” 

You laugh, “It’s ok. So how was that?” you tease. 

“Really good,” she smiles. “Oh and she asked if we wanted to go to a party she’s having tomorrow?” she slips in quickly. 

“Oh god I don’t know, Alexia’s probably gonna be there isn’t she?” you ask worriedly. The last thing you needed was seeing her again. 

“Oh come on, I don’t want to go by myself and I like her. If you see her you can just ignore her, flirt with another one of her friends, let her know you don’t want anything for sure,” she begs, “Please? for me?” she begs like a small child. 

You think about it for a second, “Fine.” 

Ana practically jumps for joy and kisses your forehead, “Thank you thank you. It’ll be fun I promise,” she runs over to grab her phone, presumably to text Ona and let her know we’re coming. 

You get comfortable on the couch and put on an episode of Modern Family before you and Ana sat on the small table in the kitchen eating some leftover Paella from a few nights ago, still as good as new. 

After eating you decide to go to bed early, needing to catch up on sleep. When you get in bed you open instagram and once again are reminded of Alexia’s message. 

And the fact that you hadn’t followed her back. 

You were too tired to do anything about this—smartly at least. 

You ignored it again for now and went to bed. 

The next morning you wake up dreading this party— and that was an understatement. 

But you had to get up to get some

work done.

You get up and sit yourself on the couch with a cup of coffee. You didn’t bother to change out of your pajamas since you had no meetings today. 

You spent the next few hours designing posts for the company and diving into instagram looking for potential trends for promoting the company more. 

By the time you’ve almost driven yourself mad, your computer is about to die and it’s almost time to clock out. You go to grab your charger but your phone pings. 

You turn around to grab it and see the notification from instagram. 

[Instagram] @alexiaputellas “can’t wait to see you tonight.”

You scoff and ignore the message. You grab your computer charger and plug it into your laptop. 

Your phone dings again. 

[Instagram] @alexiaputellas “you can’t keep ignoring me you know?” 

You smiled at the message and continued to ignore it. 

After a little bit, you finished work and started to get ready since the party was in a few hours. 

You started to realize you feel a little excited to see Alexia. You like the attention. 

And as long as you don’t let it get any further, there’s no harm in a little fun.

You just had to make sure it was just for fun.

You were finishing getting doing your makeuo when you heard Ana get back from work. 

“Hi babe, how are you?” she called from the living room. 

“Good, just getting ready!” you called back. 

You hear her footsteps getting closer to you before she enters the bathroom that you’re in. “Sorry it took me so long to get back we’ll probably be late to the party,” she said. She looked at you and your almost finished makeup, “You look really hot for someone who doesn’t want to go to this party.” 

You laugh as if what she said was ridiculous, “Oh please. I just don’t want to be caught underdressed,” you joked. 

“One thing is not being underdressed and another thing is looking like you want Alexia to fuck you senseless again,” she teases. 

Your face goes red, “When did I say anything about senseless?” you laugh. 

“Oh you don’t have to tell me. I know,” she whispers as she leaves to go get ready. 

You look at yourself in the mirror thinking maybe you are overdressing. 

You decided to wear a red tank top that showed just enough cleavage to not be too showy but not modest. You wore your low rise, black jeans that fit you so well and you know you look really good in them. You decided to add a belly chain to the outfit to make it look even better. You decided to keep your hair down for the night. 

You convinced yourself this hair decision had nothing to do with Alexia’s comment in the coffee shop the other day.

When Ana is done getting ready you order an uber to come pick you up and you wait until it arrives. You grab your bag and your keys and you and Ana head out the door. 

When you’re in the uber you find yourself mindlessly scrolling through instagram and you end up going through the barca femenil squad instagram. 

Just to see who may all be at the party, not to look at pictures of Alexia. 

When you get there you get out of the uber and realize, this is the same building Alexia’s apartment is in. Figures that they live in the same building. 

Unwanted memories of the other night come flooding back. 

You shake off the warm feeling in your body as you walk into the building. 

You can hear music from the entrance and you assume that’s coming from the party. 

You head up the stairs and reach the apartment where the party noise is coming from. Ana knocks on the door a d a few seconds later Ona opens the door. 

“Hi,” she hugs Ana then gestures for both of you to come in, “Come in” she smiles. 

You walk in and in no surprise, most of the women there are all extremely fit and definitely fellow footballers. You spot Alexia in the kitchen talking to someone else. You pretend you didn’t see her as you said hi to the others. 

Ana sits down to where Ona is sitting and Ona offers to grab both of you something to drink. You taker her up on her offer and ask for a rum and coke. 

You sit down on the end of the couch no one seems to be taking up. 

You mindlessly switch from paying attention to the conversations around you and not. You’re happy Ana seems to be having a good time but you’re a little bored. 

That is, before someone sits next to you. 

This woman is FIT. 

Brown hair with dyed blonde highlights and an energy that exuded so much confidence it was intimidating. 

She’s wearing a tight white t shirt and some dark blue pinstripe low rise jeans, with some boxers

peaking above them.  

“Hola,” she says to you, her eyes quickly rake down your body and back up. “I’m Misa, nice to meet you.” 

She extends a hand for you to shake, you smile a little before grabbing her hand and shaking it lightly. “I’m y/n, nice to meet you too.” 

She smiles at you, “So, how do you know Ona?” she asks. 

Not wanting to tell her the full truth, you said, “Oh, Ana’s my best friend,” you gesture toward where they’re sitting. 

“Lovely,” she teases. You can feel her slowly inching closer to you. 

“So, do you play on the barcelona team as well?” you ask her, subconsciously hoping Alexia is watching this conversation, you try to be more into this conversation. 

“No,” she smiles, “I play for Madrid but I’m friends with most of these girls from the Spanish national team. I’m here visiting.” 

Misa was about to say something else,

but you can feel Alexia watching you from your peripheral and something took over you. 

You quickly break the distance between you and Misa and kiss her. You can feel her surprise at first but she slowly deepens the kiss as her hand wanders to your thigh. You break apart from the kiss after what felt like hours. 

“Can I get you another drink?” she asks you softly. 

“Yes please,” you smile. She grabs your empty glass off of the table and heads to the bar to refresh your drink. 

Immediately as she’s gone you feel someone else sit next to you. 

You turn to see Alexia. She looks… mad. But why would she be mad? You guys aren’t together. 

“Hi Alexia,” you say blankly. 

“Hi,” she says flatly, “why have you been ignoring me?” 

“Who says I’m ignoring you?” you snap back. 

“You, right now.” she bites back. “Why are you acting like this? Did I do something?” now she seems worried. 

You sigh and look down for a moment. 

You think about what to say for a moment. 

You put your hand on her thigh. You look at her and your eyes darken. She looks really good and you hadn’t noticed from how much you were trying to pretend she wasn’t there. 

“We can keep doing this,” you point between the two of you, your voice lowers, “if you promise, there are no feelings. This is just for fun. Because I am not ready for a relationship,” You say blatantly. 

She seems a little taken aback at first but then her eyes darken. “Ok,” she pauses for a moment. She leans in to kiss you. It’s a soft kiss but slow. Painfully slow. She pulls away and whispers, “Meet me in my apartment in 30 minutes,” before getting up and heading out the door. 

You realize you don’t remember which apartment is hers. 

Shit. 

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 THE GROUND FINDS ITS BRUTAL WAY TO ME

FEATURING: dazai osamu

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

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

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

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

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

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

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

You’re not going to get there in time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew better.

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

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

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

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

This is all your fault.

You brought him into this life. 

You let them back you into a corner like this. 

You ruined his life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stay behind me,” you tell him quietly.

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

If he had, the entire forest would be obliterated. 

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

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

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

You doubt yourself. 

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

But it’s too late now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You suddenly wish you never left the beach house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you smoke him out?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When have I ever?”

“Too many times to count.”

“... Rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

You-

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do what I have to. It’s okay.”

“You won’t have to do anything.”

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

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

Only then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has that changed? Has something changed?

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

Instead, it looks past you.

Looks past you right at Piano Man and Dazai.

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

And then-

And then Dazai shifts onto his good leg.

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

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

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

But you can’t let it get to Dazai.

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

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

Dazai.

Shit.

You don’t want him to see this. 

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

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

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

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

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

Yosano.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Arahabaki approaching Dazai.

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

 Like he doesn’t care.

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

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

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

But they don’t need to be.

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

Is… Dazai an ability user?

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

Unless he was lying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s been seven hours since then. 

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

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

Dazai is alone again. 

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

It’s his fate. 

It’s-

“Osamu.”

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

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

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

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

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

And you touch him.

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

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

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

He isn’t alone. 

(Not yet.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Failure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

Dazai leans forward. “What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dazai blinks and then says, “Excited?”

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

Dazai stares at you. “Nothing has changed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Things would be different. 

He would be different. 

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

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

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

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

[pacifierbby]

★ *. * · 𝑱𝑬𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑺

𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫? you could write something about jealous Lando pleasee. Honestly, I don’t really know what it could be, fluff, smut, or angst. I’ll leave it up to you ♡

୨ৎ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 LN4 x reader

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 none

୨ৎ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓

-𝑵𝑨𝑽𝑰-

He could never understand why you dated so many dickhead men all of them lead to you ringing him up in the middle of the night crying for him to pick you up because yet another fight has occurred leading him to console you over a bottle of wine and some much-needed cuddles he just wished that you would open up and see everything he did for you was because he fell madly in love with you he was just coward to even tell you scared to even ruin the friendship between the both of you making him move into self-pity when you go crying to him wishing he would tell you how much he loves you. The day you told him that you've got another boy on the block that you think it's going really well and that maybe he's the one and not one toxic trait coming from him did massively hurt lando he just wished for your sake that that was true and that you found the one.

You and Lando chilling in his Monaco apartment the sun shining through the big bay windows giving you a soft glow "Hey Lando what are you doing tonight?" looking over to you "Uh nothing tonight was thinking off chilling in for the night" shrugging "well me and ben thinking about going to that new club if you want to join" making his smile instantly fade quickly smiling so you didn't notice "uh yeah sure" making sure that you didn't notice which you were more engrossed in your phone than him at the moment having this small feeling that something was going to go wrong tonight but he keep that between himself knowing it will probably cause a fight between you both the last time he announced his thoughts about your ex you told him that everything was wrong and stopped being an arsehole and that he was using you to get to him was completely wrong when later down the line he was right and you apologised massively for that and ever since then he watched you figure your ex-boyfriends out yourself.

Lando always knew how you felt after that and you told him that a couple of guys before that did try and use you to see him and ever since then he promised himself and to you that he would never bring the conversation up again knowing how much that it affected you which you were happy that he listened to you and your feelings Lando didn't know that deep down that you wished he was something more to you but just like him you was a coward to even tell him and that all these guys are just to push your feelings away from him and with Ben that worked greatly. As much as it hurt him it hurt you seeing him with so many women daily making you separate from him for a little which he never understood why but it was easier for you like that.

"Ben said that's great and we are going at 8 o clock is that okay for you?" looking away from your phone towards him "Uh yeah will it be fine for me to invite Margarida? Making your heart stop a little "Yeah yeah that's fine" getting up from the comfort of the couch "Well I'm going to go back to my apartment to get ready I think Ben is going to pick me up so I'll meet you at the club?" making Lando nod walking over giving you a side hug walking you over to his door.

He knew he shouldn't have asked if his recent hook-up could come but he really needed to get you and Ben out of his mind for the rest of the night only he could think that Margarida would be a better option other than alcohol quickly sending her a text. He never told you that she was a hook-up he just wanted you to automatically think that they were together hoping for some kind of reaction from you which you didn't really show. he doesn't know how long he can put this charade up for...

8 o'clock came quicker than he hoped the sun slowly moving down behind the clouds sighing and looking at himself in the mirror "Hey babe do you like my dress" rolling his eyes " Marg haven't I told you to stop calling me that?!" he couldn't really stand her voice at the moment "but yes yes I do now come on they're here" not even give her another chance to change the godamn dress for the seventeenth time that hour.

The new club was lively tonight well obviously they are all here for the same reason you are. Looking towards Lando I saw that he was more interested in the glass than whatever Marg was actually saying to him which was odd but you cant deny Lando had picked a really gorgeous girl slim, blonde hair a model all-check box list that you couldn't really check for him yes you was jealous of Marg knowing that she has something that you don't which you truly wished you had "hey Lando shall we get the drinks?" ben spoke interrupting your thoughts which honestly you was actually thankful for but looking at lando it's like his thoughts been interrupted to "uh yeah sure"

Lando looks over towards you every chance he can get to make sure you are okay "So you and Marg eh?" Ben spoke making his eyes leave you "' we're really not together she's just one of my huck-ups" taking a sip of his beer while waiting for the other orders "Oh well if we're on that category" Ben paused "I'm only with her because of you" making Lando look back at him furious his hands tightly around his glass "What!" Lando automatically wants to meet his hands with his face but he knows he cant "Well you're cool and she's your friend so she is my better option" he laughed a little not really observing that Lando was mad "Are you joking Ben that women has everything that you need why!" "well the sex is another good thing" that was it for Lando his fist connecting to his face.

However, y/n saw everything running towards the boys "What the hell Lando!" dragging Ben next to her and looking at his face "Tell her what you told me tell her!" Y/N looked confused towards Ben but only he smirked: "I don't know what you're talking about?" Lando's hands fisted once again "this dickhead told me he only wants you Y/N because you are my friend and I quote that sex is another good thing" She didn't want to hear more "Please tell me he's joking Ben please" but ben just shrugged and nodded "then Lando had the right to hit you and hear I am stupid defending your dumb arse" she didn't want to see her cry that just shows that he won Lando grabbed her hand walking her out off the club

"I'm so sorry Lando I'm so sorry to defend him over you I don't know what to say" the tears slowly coming out Landos hand automatically wiping them away "Listen love I totally understand you didn't know you didn't listen you wasn't their I get it" out off all the words Lando know what to do or say he knew how to console you and everyday you was grateful for it "shall we go home" you just nodded wanting to get away from this club.

Both Lando and Y/n are wide awake in two separate rooms both of them thinking the same things after tonight y/n truly knew her forever was and it was under her nose forever and honestly it only took for tonight to find out the jealous thoughts when he had women surrounding him wanting to just grab him and just be hers she felt silly letting all these men degrade her when there was one man who praised her made her feel loved and praised the floor she walked on. For Lando, he thought the same the constant jealousy for all the men that she dated.

y/n walked into Lando's room she just about saw his shadow wrapped around the quilt in his bed "Are you awake" she whispered his figure slowly waking up "Come here" his voice responded lifting his quilt covers inviting in quickly jumping in "Thank you for tonight Lando I couldn't thank you enough" Lando grabbed her hand she was thankful that it was dark but the blush she had on her face will probably make her like a tomato "can I be honest with you?" Y/N nodded "Uh Y/N I like you no I love you. you honestly don't understand everything I feel when you tell me you got another boy but after tonight everything I think is because I fell for you a while ago and I'm so sorry that it took me this long to tell you" Y/N leaned over turning the bedside lamp on looking towards Lando's eyes "honestly Lando it took me tonight when in bed with my own little mind to finally understand what I'm actually feeling is that I'm falling in love with you as well I just want to say thank you for making me feel the way I should feel from a man" Lando leant over wiping the tear away from her cheek the one she didn't notice that even left her "can I kiss you" Y/N nodded both of them connected they're lips and after that she knew that Lando was forever.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ © 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘣𝘺

[wooziorgans]

Noan do you not feel anything for nerd!jihoon?!?!?? Do you not fantasize about him being a silent shy nerd until he have you in his room, on his bed, naked, screwing you, raw, filling you up with his load and still not pulling out, just staying in, connected and you wondering where's the nerdy boy.

Thee nerd in question btw (this guy in short hai is my so fqing favorite I can literally do ANYTHING for him 😭😭😭😭 please please please please jihoona)

shy nerd uji

oh lord. oh he’s such a hot loser i need him. god did i have thoughts abt this. also ur other ask is being combined w another ask for the ultimate sub uji story. yeah anyways.

shy nerd!jihoon who practically took you under his wing in your shared chemistry class freshman year. you were lab partners, and he seemed competent enough to help you out personally with the labs, though you asked him for his number after the first class because he was too shy.

jihoon, who only wears tight fitting clothes on lab days because his regular baggy shirts and sweatpants are a safety hazard. you can’t help but stare at his muscles before he puts on his lab coat. his face burns as he slips his goggles on over his glasses.

jihoon, who helps you out with all the calculations for the remainder of the semester, even after you get the hang of it. who panics when you spill sulphuric acid on yourself, even though it has a low molarity so it won’t burn you.

jihoon, who you end up becoming pretty good friends with, even though you only see him once a week in your lab section. he always answers your questions about chemistry, even if you have different professors.

he slowly opens up to you, and you find out in your last study session that he’s actually a music major. you beg him to show you some of his songs, and he agrees, red in the face. on the condition you do well on your chem final.

jihoon, who you managed to keep seeing and hanging out with, even if you no longer share a class together. three years later, at the start of your final year of university, you can mutually say that you’re each others best friends.

shy nerd!jihoon, who isn’t as shy as he used to be, but he gets red in the face whenever you tease him. he still has his walls up around you, certain ones that he doesn’t seem to have with the rest of your friend group.

you can’t deny your attraction to him. his glasses, which he always pushes up as he studies, contrast so starkly with his pale skin. his bulging muscles which radiate heat as autumn starts to roll in.

jihoon cut his hair at the start of the semester, and you thought you’d be more upset with the change, but you can’t argue with the fact that he looks hot as fuck with shorter hair. you’ve seen him grow into a young man over the last few years, and his haircut suits him.

jihoon, who also didn’t go home for the holidays, and so you both spend your week together, catching up on homework and studying. you also spend your break with a multi-day movie marathon in his apartment.

jihoon and his apartment, which you’ve practically been living in for the last few days. your overnight bag sits in the corner of his living room, dirty clothes folded nicely on top of it. your toothbrush sits next to his, and it has him thinking hard about your friendship.

he can’t deny the fact that he thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. he can’t deny how domestic your whole week is going to be, can’t deny how much his chest flutters when you insist on cuddling while you watch movies. he can’t deny the obvious pull towards you, one he can only hope is mutual.

jihoon, who lets you throw your leg over his as you cuddle, his face burning at the outward affection. your breath comes out in small puffs, fist tightening in his shirt as you slowly start to fall asleep with your head on his chest.

jihoon, who wraps his arm around you, hand resting on your thigh. you crane your neck up softly to look at him; his glasses are slipping down his face as he tries to pay attention to the movie. he looks beautiful like this, and you decide to try and play off touching him as a mindless, half asleep action.

your fingers release his shirt, which had pulled up, exposing the base of his stomach to the cool air of his room. you carefully, oh so slowly, trail your fingers down to the skin. you push your hand back up, nails scratching gently against his abs.

jihoon grips your thigh softly, lips parting as his other hand grabs your hand to stop you. his cock twitches softly in his sweats, and you can feel it against the inside of your thigh. “y/n,” he pants, as though he had just run a mile in record time. you flatten your hand against his stomach, pinky brushing against the band of his sweats.

“want you.” you murmur, closing your eyes as you just feel his skin. jihoon gives your thigh another squeeze before his hand falls to your ass. you shift up on his chest, leaning up to kiss his neck softly.

in one quick moment, jihoon flips you over, off of him and onto your back. you squeak softly, all the air leaving your lungs as he straddles your thighs. before you get the chance to say anything, jihoon’s lips are on yours as he starts to kiss you stupid.

you start to pant into his mouth, completely in awe at how good he is at kissing. you had assumed he was a little bit more of a loser with very little experience, but judging by the way he’s kissing you, he clearly knows what he’s doing.

jihoon pushes your shirt up, hand holding your side as his thumb brushes over your nipple. it’s hardly a graze, but it has your back arching off the bed as he pulls away. he smirks at you, hands leaving your body as he pulls his shirt off in one motion. you gasp at the sight of just how ripped he is. jihoon shakes his head as he pushes his glasses up, a sadistic puff of a laugh escaping his lips.

“what, baby? you know i work out.” he whispers, and the pet name he uses has you reeling, back arching back off the bed.

“you’re so fucking hot, oh my god.” you gasp, hands pulling at your shirt until you finally get the damn thing off. jihoon just chuckles at how desperate and cute you look right now. he doesn’t wait for you to settle back on w your shirt is off. instead, he gets straight to work, pulling your own sweatpants down. his fingers catch your underwear on the way down, and he decides to just get everything over with at once.

the cool air hits your burning core as jihoon spreads your thighs apart. he settles on his knees as he leans down, pressing soft kisses at the base of your stomach. he trails down further and further, licking at biting at you skin, covering you in light marks that slowly start to darken. finally, his chin brushes against the hood of your clit, and your hands snap to his hair, head falling back as your eyes close.

jihoon laughs again, almost cruel, as he places a kiss to your clit. his tongue darts out, pushing its way in between your folds to taste your arousal. he moans against you, and the vibrations only add to the stimulation. his fingers slowly start to find their way to your core.

he drags them over your entrance, not yet pushing them in as he goes back to focusing on your clit. you look down at him, opening your eyes to find him watching you intently. jihoon pushes two of his fingers into your entrance, and your tight walls suck him in almost instantly.

jihoon locates your spot almost instantly, milking it as he curls his fingers. his lips are suctioned against your clit, and you can’t take it anymore. with the way he’s looking at you, glasses slightly fogged from the heat between your legs and his breath against you, you cum hard around his fingers.

jihoon lets you ride out your orgasm, and once your chest is rising and falling rapidly, you can feel him smirk against you as he pulls his fingers out of you. “good. i wanted to make you cum at least once before i fucked you.” he shifts on his knees, pulling away from your core as his hand finds the knot of his sweats.

he pulls the bow free, slipping them down to his knees before he kicks them off. jihoon’s hard cock slaps his stomach and you lose your breath once again. his cock is big, veiny and so hard. small beads of precum leak from his tip, and he wraps his pretty hand around the head of his cock, coating it in his arousal as he strokes himself languidly.

“you still want this?” he asks as he leans over you. your hands find the side of his face as you nod. “good. been thinking about this for so long, baby. you have no idea.” he breathes out as he lines himself up, tip slipping through your folds.

he pushes in, and slides home in one motion. your walls spasm around him at the stretch. it burns, based on the sheer size of his cock, but you’re so wet it’s hardly a real issue. jihoon gives you a few moments to breathe as he peppers your face with chaste kisses, before he pulls back out, only to slam back in.

the pace he sets is brutal, hard and fast, and you know you won’t last long like this. you guess this is payback for the years of teasing and sexual comments made towards him, just to see him blush and get shy. jihoon pushes his tongue into your mouth, chasing your moans with his mouth.

your nails scratch at his back, crescent indents left behind over the muscles of his shoulders. he hisses at the sting and grips the flesh of your thigh harshly as he jackhammers into you.

it’s so dirty, messy; the slick sounds of jihoon moving inside of you, the repetitive slap of skin on skin, completely filthy as he fucks you like his life depends on it. the way he pushes his glasses back up his face makes your eyes roll back.

jihoon was always so soft and sweet, a naturally kind and gentle person, so to say that you’re losing your mind right now as he fucks you into oblivion would be an understatement. you can’t think, can’t even really make coherent noises as he fucks you. he shifts your hips up, tip of his cock kissing your spot, and it’s over for you.

you cum, the sheer force of your orgasm knocks the sound from your throat. you feel like you’re about to black out; a hot, white wave of pleasure so intense that your senses numb for a moment as you tighten impossibly around jihoon.

you’re so tight and warm and wet, it only takes a few more thrusts for jihoon to spill his load inside of you. he bites his lip as he cums, head thrown back as his own orgasm washes over him.

jihoon collapses on top of you, cock still sheathed in your warm walls. his hands find your hair and waist. his touch is so soft and gentle, a stark contrast to how he was moments ago, that it pulls you back down to earth. you have had the mind to tell him to pull out, but the feeling of still being full, albeit incredibly sensitive, is so nice that you don’t say anything.

“fuck.” you pant, a soft laugh falling from your lips. jihoon rolls you over onto your sides, hand cradling your head to his chest.

“you okay?” he asks quietly.

“yeah. so good. i’m so good right now, you have no idea.” you laugh again, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“i hope that wasn’t too much, baby.” you can feel him smile against your hair.

“it was perfect, hoonie. i just- shit, where’d the shy nerd go? what happened to you?” you ask breathlessly. jihoon laughs quietly, pulling your head back from his skin gently so he can kiss you.

this kiss is so soft and delicate, like he’s afraid of shattering the moment you’re having right now. “dead and gone, baby. no more of that, now that i know you want me just as bad.” he whispers against your lips.

“good. i like being close to you like this.” you smile softly, pecking him once more.

“let’s get you cleaned up. i went kind of rough on you.” jihoon smiles back, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“oh, fuckin’ tell me about it.” you giggle, brushing the hair out of his face.

“karmic retribution, baby. you can’t tease me for three years and think that your actions won’t have consequences.” jihoon laughs as he pulls his softening cock out of you. he hisses softly as he watches his cum slip out of you.

“remind me to keep teasing you if it means you’ll fuck me like that again.” you clench, trying to keep jihoon’s load inside.

“i’d rather you just tell me next time.” he whispers lowly into your ear. you wonder briefly if this new development is for the better, with the way his tone has you throbbing again. jihoon slides off the bed, away from you and you whine at the loss of his warmth.

jihoon throws his head back in a hearty laugh as he leans back over you to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom.

shy nerd! jihoon, who is all but dead and gone as he runs you a warm bath to soothe your aching muscles. he kisses you sweetly as he sets you down on the counter, massages your thighs and scalp in the warm water.

[seafarersdream]

The Art of Braiding (Cregan Stark x Y/N)

In the harsh, unfamiliar North, Y/N Tully struggles to understand the strange customs that surround her. One of them, however, her new husband Cregan Stark knows all too well—and he’s not above using it to his advantage. The Wolf of the North, as it turns out, has a cheeky side.

*Inspired by the braiding traditions of the Vikings

TW // Strong language and profanities, possessiveness, non-consensual restraint.

“Bloody wind,” Y/N muttered under her breath, tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders as another frigid gust swept through Winterfell’s courtyard. The North had its own bite, and it wasn’t just the cold. It was in everything—the stone walls, the silence, and even the people.

Especially the people.

Especially Cregan Stark.

Her husband.

That cold bastard. Honorable, sure, but colder than the winds battering against her face.

Y/N blew a strand of hair from her eyes, resisting the urge to curse her luck again. The riverlands were nothing like this. In Riverrun, there was warmth. Rivers that didn’t freeze over in the middle of freaking summer. Men who smiled, told bawdy jokes, laughed loud enough for the gods to hear. Here, everything was different. Even the laughter, when it happened at all, felt muted by the heavy weight of the Northern sky.

But this was her life now. A wife of the North. Lady Stark. By the gods, it was still strange to hear it. She knew the match had been made for peace and alliances—marriage between a Tully and a Stark was good for the realm, or so her father had said. But no one had prepared her for the rest of it. The weather. The silences.

And Cregan himself.

He was unlike any man she had known. Rivermen were warm, boisterous. Cregan was the opposite. He was distant, cold at times, the weight of Winterfell and the North resting on his broad shoulders. But he was fair, she’d give him that. And gods be damned if he wasn’t handsome. He had that Stark look, all strong jaw and piercing eyes. If only he’d smile a little more, maybe she’d feel less like she was wed to a block of ice.

Not that he wasn’t good to her. No, Cregan was kind in his way. Gentle in the nights they shared, even if he was quieter than she liked. He was a man of few words, unlike the men of her home, who’d fill the halls with stories and laughter. Still, he made sure she had everything she needed. He listened, even when he didn’t have much to say.

But gods, she missed warmth.

The sound of footsteps crunching in the snow caught her attention, and she glanced up to see him approaching. Cregan. He walked like he owned the place—because he did, of course—but it was more than that. There was a confidence in him, a certainty in his steps. He didn’t need to announce himself. The wind, the snow, the very stones of Winterfell seemed to bend to his will.

He came up beside her, his breath clouding the cold air. “Still not used to it?” His voice was a low rumble, almost lost to the wind.

Y/N snorted, rubbing her hands together. “Used to it? It’s like a gods-damned frozen hell up here.”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “You’ll learn. In time.”

She shot him a look. “And when exactly will that be? Because I’ve been waiting for weeks, Cregan, and I’m about ready to march back to the riverlands and throw myself into the water. Ice be damned.”

His brows arched just slightly, amusement flickering in his gray eyes. “The riverlands? You wouldn’t last a day without the North, now.”

Y/N scoffed, turning to him fully. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Stark. I was born by water, not ice. I think I’d manage just fine.”

He said nothing, but the smirk returned. Silence fell between them again, but this time it was… different. More comfortable, somehow. She studied him, wondering what was going on in that head of his. He always seemed to have something weighing on him, some unspoken burden of being a leader at such a young age.

Before she could press further, he stepped closer, reaching out. Her breath caught, not because of the cold this time, but because of the unexpected closeness. His hand brushed against her hair, fingers moving with surprising gentleness.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hold still,” he murmured, focused on her hair. His fingers deftly gathered strands, working them with a skill that surprised her.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, confused, but she stayed quiet, feeling the tug and pull as he braided her hair. Her pulse quickened as his fingers brushed against her skin, the sensation at odds with the chill around them. There was an intimacy in the act, in the silence that hung between them. And yet, it was just a braid.

Wasn’t it?

“There,” he said after a moment, stepping back. She reached up instinctively, fingers touching the braid he’d woven. It felt tight, but not uncomfortably so. She had no idea what to make of it. “What… is this?”

Cregan shrugged, that infuriating smirk still lingering on his lips. “Just a braid.”

“Just a braid,” she echoed, unconvinced.

His eyes flickered, something unreadable in their depths. “You’ll see.”

Y/N narrowed her gaze. “What exactly does that mean, Lord Stark?”

But Cregan was already turning, heading toward the main hall without another word. Y/N stood there for a moment, blinking in confusion. Just a braid? She huffed, shaking her head as she followed him inside. Northerners and their damn cryptic ways.

It wasn’t until they entered the hall that Y/N realized something was… off.

Eyes turned toward her. And not the usual fleeting glances. No, these were lingering, assessing stares. Several of the women whispered to each other, and a few of the men gave her respectful nods. She caught the eye of a servant who quickly dipped her head in what almost seemed like… deference?

Gods be good.

“Why is everyone looking at me like that?” she muttered under her breath, shooting a glare at one particularly nosy maid.

Cregan didn’t answer, his lips twitching as though he was trying very hard not to laugh. The bastard was enjoying this.

“What did you do?” she demanded, her voice sharper now.

Finally, he met her gaze, and there was that smirk again. “The braid.”

“What about the bloody braid?”

“It’s… a tradition,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the stone wall. “In the North, braids have meanings. Especially for women.”

Her stomach sank. “What kind of meaning?”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “A braid like that? It tells everyone that you’re… claimed.”

Y/N blinked, feeling her face heat despite the cold. “Claimed?” she echoed, her voice rising a pitch. “By whom exactly?”

Cregan’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “By me.”

Her mouth fell open. “You—what?! You did that on purpose? You—sly, stubborn—”

His laughter was a rare, low rumble that warmed the cold space between them. “You’ll get used to it, my lady.”

“Used to it?” Y/N fumed, her cheeks burning as the reality of what he’d done sunk in. “You can’t just—ugh!” She shoved at his chest, but it was like pushing a damn wall. “This is the North, Y/N. My North,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And you are mine.”

A strange warmth bloomed in her chest, mixing with her frustration. The audacity. The nerve.

And yet…

Y/N's face burned hotter than the hearth fires in the Great Hall as Cregan’s words echoed in her ears: You are mine. Claimed. Oh, she was mortified.

She reached up, fingers fumbling to undo the braid that now seemed to burn against her scalp. “Absolutely not,” she muttered, her nails scraping against the tight weave as she tried to pull it apart. “I am not walking around Winterfell with everyone thinking—"

Before she could finish, Cregan’s hand shot out, closing around her wrist, firm but not rough. “What are you doing?”

She glared at him, teeth clenched. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m undoing this bloody braid before everyone in this hall assumes I’m some conquered—”

“You’re not,” he cut in, his voice low, but there was an edge to it. “And you won’t undo it.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the sudden command in his tone. “Excuse me?”

His eyes were intense, a storm brewing behind the calm gray. “The braid stays.”

She tried to yank her wrist out of his grip, but his hold was iron. Not painful, but resolute. “I didn’t agree to this—this.. this claiming nonsense,” she snapped, feeling a wave of embarrassment creep up her neck as she noticed more eyes turning their way.

Cregan leaned in slightly, his gaze unyielding. “In the North, it’s more than just words. It means something. You’re my wife. And you’ll wear that braid like it.”

Her heart pounded, heat flooding her chest. “I’ll wear what I damn well please—”

“Oi, Lady Stark!”

The loud shout from across the hall made Y/N freeze, her head whipping toward the source. One of the Northern men, a burly soldier with a wild grin on his face, pointed at her braid. “That’s a fine weave, my lady!” he hollered, winking.

The hall erupted into whistles, cheers, and hollers. Several of the men banged their fists on the tables, laughing and calling out words Y/N could barely make out. Some of the women were whispering behind their hands, giggling and exchanging knowing looks.

Y/N felt her face go crimson, her fingers still trapped in her hair, halfway through her attempt to undo the braid.

“Looks like the Warden’s laid his claim!” another man shouted, and more hoots followed.

Her stomach dropped. This was a nightmare. Mother save her, this is worse than a nightmare.

She tried again to pull at the braid, but Cregan’s hand didn’t budge from her wrist. “Cregan, I swear to the gods—”

His voice was maddeningly calm, but there was a cocky edge to it that made her blood boil. “You’ll leave it. And if you somehow forget, remember—we’ve got different gods, love. And mine? They’re backing me up.”

Y/N’s mouth opened to protest, but when she met his eyes, something in her faltered. He wasn’t just being possessive. There was something more there—something ancient, deep-rooted. A tradition that ran through his blood, through the very stones of Winterfell. She wasn’t just in his home. She was part of his world now.

But hell if she’d admit that to him.

“Cregan,” she hissed through clenched teeth, trying once more to yank her wrist free. “Everyone is staring!”

“And?” he asked, with that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. “Let them.”

Her eyes widened. “You—this isn’t funny! They’re hooting at me like I’m some prize at the fair!”

His grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her pause. “You are no prize, Y/N,” he murmured, leaning close enough for his words to be for her ears only. “But you are mine. And in the North, we show it.”

Her breath caught at the warmth in his voice, even as her frustration grew. She had no idea what to say to that. What was she supposed to say? That she didn’t want to be claimed? That she didn’t want him? But the problem was… she did. And that was the most frustrating part.

The hall’s noise only grew louder. Some of the men had started clapping, whistling at them like they were some grand spectacle. Y/N wanted to sink into the stone floors.

“Let go of my wrist, Cregan,” she said, her voice quieter now, though it still carried her annoyance.

“Only if you stop trying to undo it,” he replied, his tone softening.

Y/N glared at him, her lips pressed into a tight line. But the heat of the stares, the teasing from the Northerners, was overwhelming. With a frustrated sigh, she dropped her hands from her hair.

“There,” she grumbled. “Now let go.”

He released her wrist, and immediately she wanted to punch him just a little bit. That cocky bastard.

“Was that so difficult?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“You know,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, “you’re lucky you’re my husband, or I’d throw you from the Wall.”

He leaned in, that smirk still present but softer now. “I’d like to see you try, wife.”

The word ‘wife’ sent another ripple of warmth through her, and she cursed silently under her breath. Why did it have this effect on her? And why did he have to look at her like that, with those damned Stark eyes, all cold and piercing but somehow still full of heat?

She crossed her arms, trying to hide her embarrassment under a glare. “Don’t expect me to be all smiles and sweet words because you’ve won this little battle, Stark.”

Cregan chuckled softly, his breath warm in the cold hall. “Who said I needed sweet words? You’re a Tully. I’d be disappointed if you weren’t fighting me.”

Despite herself, Y/N felt the smallest hint of a smile tug at her lips. Damn him. He knew exactly how to pull her in, even when she wanted to stay mad.

The cheers and whistles finally started to die down, though the teasing looks from the men and women of Winterfell didn’t. She sighed, looking up at Cregan. “You’re going to owe me for this.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Owe you?”

“Yes,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “For the embarrassment. You’ll owe me.”

Cregan grinned, his cold facade cracking just enough to show the warmth beneath. “Fair enough, wife. I’ll owe you.” He paused, a glint of mischief in his eye. “But that braid stays.”

She rolled her eyes. But a small smile tugged at her lips.

As they finally made their way to the high table, Y/N couldn’t help but glance at the braid once more. The claiming. It was still ridiculous. Still infuriating.

But gods help her… it felt good—brutishly, maddeningly good—to be claimed like this. She was going insane, because part of her didn’t mind it half as much as she pretended to.

A treacherous part of her silently hoped that Cregan would braid her hair again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the next. For as long as they both lived.

[reidmania]

soon, you'll get better | s. reid

summary; when spencer decides to get help for his addiction, you are right by his side the entire time, even when you are both more scared than you’ll admit.

warnings; fem!reader, early seasons spencer (s2) mentions of addiction, withdrawals, getting help, hurt x comfort, its kinda really fluffy though, mentions of tobias hankel, references possible overdosing, (nobody overdoses, reader is just afraid of it happening) this is comfort, pure spencer comfort tbh.

an; heart BROKEN guys. this one hurt. remember you are not alone.

'I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky, I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try. And I'll say to you, soon you'll get better, soon you'll get better, you'll get better soon, 'cause you have to. And I hate to make this all about me but who am i supposed to talk to? What am i supposed to do, if theres no you?'

You sit beside him, your hand resting gently on his, feeling the tension pulsing through his skin. Spencer's fingers twitch, as though his body is having a silent argument with itself—one part of him wants to hold on to you, to feel your comfort, and the other part is restless, needing something more than your touch can provide. You know what that something is. It’s been between the two of you for weeks now, an unspoken weight that has grown heavier with each passing day.

The hospital waiting room is quiet, but inside your head, it feels deafening. Your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. The seconds drag on, and you know he feels every single one of them. You squeeze his hand lightly, drawing his attention back to you. His eyes meet yours, wide and anxious, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. You see it all—the fear, the shame, the self-loathing. But beyond that, buried underneath, you still see the man you love.

"You're doing the right thing," you whisper, your voice soft, barely louder than the ticking clock.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His lips part, but no words come out. You don’t push him. You’ve learned that sometimes, silence is safer for him. His mind is always moving, always analyzing, always thinking ten steps ahead, but right now, he’s fragile. His brilliance can’t help him here. And that’s what scares him the most.

You lean in, pressing your forehead against his, grounding him in the moment. “I’m so proud of you,” you say, and you feel him exhale, just slightly. The warmth of his breath touches your lips, and for a brief second, you feel that connection again—the one that always makes you believe everything will be okay, as long as you're together.

It was difficult, sitting here and pretending like you weren’t scared. You were, you wondered if you had a right to be scared. Spencer was the love of your life, you had never once questioned that — and seeing him like this, well it wasn’t easy. Being here, wasn’t easy.

Spencer closes his eyes, a shudder running through his body. He grips your hand tighter, the pressure almost painful, but you don’t pull away. You want him to know you’re here, that you’re not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

A nurse walks by, and Spencer's eyes snap open, his body stiffening. You can feel his heart rate spike, the anxiety flaring up again.

“I can’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. His voice is tight, strangled, like he’s holding back something that threatens to choke him.

“Yes, you can,” you reply gently, running your thumb over his knuckles in slow, soothing circles. “Please.”

It was a plea, a genuine plea. You tried to be strong for his sake, he needed someone. You were his person, you would always be. But he was also your person — and the idea that if he didn’t get help you could lose him one way or another terrified you. It caused a genuine ache in your chest at just the thought of him not being him, or not being around at all. You couldn’t lose him, not at the hands of tobias hankel.

He stares at you, searching your face for something—maybe reassurance, maybe strength. You aren’t sure if he finds it, but he nods, his breath coming out in shaky bursts.

The doctor calls his name. The sound makes him flinch, and for a moment, you think he might bolt. You can see it in his posture, the way his muscles tense, his body preparing to flee. But then your hand tightens around his, and he looks at you again. And you know he’s staying because of you.

Together, you stand, and you walk beside him as he follows the doctor into the office. His steps are slow, reluctant, but each one is a small victory. When you sit down in the small room, the doctor’s eyes flicker between the two of you—taking in Spencer’s pale, trembling form and the way you hold onto him as if he might disappear.

The doctor speaks softly, his voice calm and measured. You hear him explain the treatment plan, the options for managing withdrawal, the therapy that Spencer will need. It all sounds clinical, distant, like the words are coming from a place Spencer can’t quite reach.

You glance at him, watching the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, the way his eyes dart around the room, not settling on anything for too long. His mind is miles away, you can tell. But you’re here, anchored in this moment for both of you.

“Spence,” you say softly, turning to face him. He doesn’t respond at first, lost in the cacophony of his own thoughts. So, you reach out, brushing your fingers against his cheek. His eyes snap back to you, and you see the vulnerability in them, the sheer weight of everything he’s been carrying.

“We’ll take it one step at a time,” you remind him. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

His lower lip trembles, and for a second, you think he might cry. But he doesn’t. Spencer’s never been one to break easily, even when he should. You wish he would sometimes, just so he wouldn’t have to hold it all inside.

The doctor gives you both a moment, stepping out of the room to let the words sink in. Spencer drops his head into his hands, his shoulders slumping as though the world is pressing down on him with all its weight.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You scoot closer, pulling him into your arms, cradling his head against your chest. His body relaxes, just a little, as if the touch of your skin can quiet the chaos in his mind.

“You deserve everything good in this world,” you tell him, stroking his hair gently. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m broken,” he breathes, the words thick with self-reproach.

You shake your head, holding him tighter. “You’re not broken, Spence. You’re just…hurting. And that’s okay. You’ll get better. You have to.”

Maybe it was a plea, maybe reassurance, you weren’t even sure. Spencer was single handedly the strongest person you knew, he didn’t deserve what had happened to him — nobody did. The signs had been there for a while, you noticed the change instantly and you tried to brush it off as him coping, but when it got to the point where you knew there was more, without a doubt — you had the conversation.

It took some convincing, and a few weeks before he even approached the idea — he denied for a while. You let him. You could only help him as much as he allowed you to, but then when he nudged you gently in bed one night and broke down — he wanted help, and you were happy to provide him with as much as you could, which also meant getting more help.

His arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you as though you’re his lifeline. And in a way, you are. But you know he’s yours too. You’ve never loved anyone the way you love Spencer—so deeply, so completely. He’s flawed, yes. But so are you.

When the doctor returns, you help Spencer sit up, though he keeps one hand resting on your knee, as if needing to stay tethered to you. You listen carefully as the doctor outlines the next steps, and this time, Spencer listens too. He’s scared, you can tell, but he’s fighting. For himself. For you. For what you both have.

And when you leave the office, walking back through the waiting room, you feel a shift. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Spencer’s steps are still hesitant, still burdened, but there’s a determination now. He’s facing it. He’s facing himself. And you’re right there beside him, as you always will be.

As you step out into the crisp evening air, Spencer pauses. He turns to you, his eyes soft, vulnerable, but this time, there’s a flicker of hope.

“I love you,” he says quietly, the words shaky but sincere.

You smile, your heart swelling. “I love you too.”

And in that moment, with the world quiet around you, “You will get better Spence.”

[hanafubukki]

Been thinking about a time travel au where you go back to the past and follow Lilia’s life. You always show up when he needs it most.

The amount of time you’re there could differ from hours to days and sometimes years (rarely), but you always disappear.

You didn’t age but Lilia did (time seems to work for you differently compared to him). Not only that, Lilia is the only one who can see you.

Some instances when you meet with Lilia includes:

The first time is when he’s been newly appointed as the Right General. He’s shocked to see you as you wonder about your whereabouts. He tries to question you, threatening violence if need be. The raucous brought other guards along but they couldn’t see you. Safe to say, he doesn’t live it down the next few decades. Meleanor teasing him that he must be nervous in his new position. You’re left questioning about your situation and how come only he could see you before you’re gone.

You join him during patrols sometimes. Keeping him company as he looks for the princess during her escapades.

Other times, you share a meal together (well, he eats and you two talk, and thank the Greats for that because his food looks questionable at best).

Sometimes, you show up during his trainings and you can’t help but wonder if the way he moves, giving emphasis to his muscles and length, is done purposely or not but you are not complaining at the beautiful view. What do they say? I hate to see you go but I love the view. And did you love it.

Another instance is when Lilia is about to be hit by a tank during his mission to deliver a message and look for Levan. Your shout has him escaping death but not without injury.

You keep him company on his track to Black Scale Mountains. Extra vigilant for any enemies while he’s holding the egg. The one to watch his back during the rare moments he would rest.

The days that were the toughest yet were the following months after Meleanor’s passing. It was also the time you felt the most frustrated and useless. Lilia during those times were desolate. Practically a vegetative state. It took you time and years of frustrations. Words heated and full of hurt on both sides. But you never let go of him nor he you.

You’re there when he’s on his mission to hatch Malleus. You’re there throughout his travels. Angry in his place when he’s treated with callousness. With worry when he collapses in fatigue. You dance with him in cold winter nights when all is quiet. Just you two and one else.

You’re there when Malleus hatches. Cries with Lilia at the little dragon, so stubborn and yet fiery for a newborn. You’re there when hair is burned and cotton candy is snuck in.

You’re there when peace talks are finalized and Silver is found. You’re there for diaper changes and late nights.

Until one day, you’re not there anymore.

At least not as a ghost, but as you. A person. Living and breathing. Someone everyone can see.

You’re in this world that is familiar but different in ways you are not used to.

Awkward and anxious as everyone stares at this new comer. You don’t know what to do or say.

But then…

“There you are sweetheart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I had to use that line 💞☺️😘🫶 how could I not? It was the perfect opportunity. 💚💚

[poisondionaea-art]

For anyone who wants to write fanfics or comics, ect about characters from Louisiana (Gambit, alastor, ect.) with accuracy to Louisiana and any French we speak here.

⚜️There's a lot of information after the phrases just an FYI ⚜️ I add a few things that I forgot about.

Common phrases used in Louisiana are:

Sha

(pronounced like it's spelled) this is a gender neutral term used for all ages, it's a friendly term used to address someone, most people use it for everyone. Inflections and sentences can change it to be more familial or romantic but it's often just used when addressing someone else. A lot of people use this term and say it for everyone they meet. This is used to replace cher and cheri, no one uses cher and cheri ever, have never heard a single person in Louisiana use those terms in my entire life.)(commonly said at the beginning or end of a sentence when addressing someone also typically accompanied my 'oh' or 'mais/man'

Examples :"oh sha, can you grab me that bottle right there." " How you been sha" "man sha, you seen what that man did over there" "oh mais sha, eat, you must be starving"

beaucoup

(boo•coo) very much, plenty/ plentiful, very, much, an exuberant/ large amount of something. Each of these can be used it just depends on the context, it is often used in 'thank you' or in jest or exasperation to emphasize that someone has a large amount of something. Sometimes people also use it in a jesting manner to make fun of how little someone has when they are trying to pretend like it's a lot. Extremely common to hear in New Orleans slightly less use in the rest of the state but is still used often. Commonly said as "beaucoup much" (younger generation born late 90s to present mainly use this one) or by itself

Examples: "did you see the amount of bread loafs that guy had in his buggie, he had beaucoup things of bread"

Merci also "merci beaucoup" or "beaucoup merci"

(mer•see) thank you, thank you very much, plenty thanks, very thanks. Still widely used across Louisiana rather commonly. Not everyone says it but it's just a personal preference, the people that do use it often still say thank you in English from time to time, they just also like using these terms as well. These phrases are also used for everyone it doesn't need to be reserved for special times/ people.

Example: " merci, have a nice day" kinda self explanatory

Adieu

(a•doo) kinda like goodbye I think I've heard a some people say it but it's definitely not the most common. They said it in place of good bye so I've just always assumed that's what it meant.

Petite

(pa•teet) small, little, tiny. This is already used in the English language show I don't really have to explain it much but it is commonly used among Cajuns and other Louisianaians to address a person affectionately especially when you add another word behind it. Sometimes people will say "mon petite ___" or "petite ____" sometimes shortcutted to "te" sometimes just say patite if it's an nickname the additional thing will most likely be in French and be something that the person likes or enjoys. I've rarely heard it used otherwise unless talking about clothing.

Examples: my grandmothers used to call me "Mon petite papillon" (my tiny butterfly) and "petite minou" (small kitty) because one grandmother's favorite animal was a butterfly and the other's is a cat.

Nanny and parrin

(nan•ee) (pah•ra) god mother and god father, most people call them by these terms so if you here someone from Louisiana talk about their nanny they don't mean someone their parents hired to look after them they mean their god mother.

Couyon

(coo•yaw) fool or idiot. Typically used in rather jest or scolding but typically when joking around. More common in Cajun areas than New Orleans. Sometimes if someone does something foolish especially after being told not to or is just being really clumsy or acting stupid/ rude then people will just call them couyon and walk away or laugh at them.

Example: " will you stop acting like a couyon? We need to get a move on."

Mais

(mah) but . See Sha for example of use mainly used with Sha .

Allons also "allons dan ser"

(ah•law) (ah•law don say) let's go and the phrase commonly used with it is "let's go dancing" more Cajun area use then New Orleans.

Beb also bébé

(pronounced like it's spelled) babe or baby also typically used in a neutral manner when talking to people, can be used for anyone but is most commonly used among family or close friends especially for people younger than you. Can also be used in a romantic connotation like babe or baby usually it is generally affectionate no matter how it's used. Can be used for strangers typically said by women but men do say it.

Example: "bébé can you go to the kitchen and get me a soda"

Just please please don't use cher or cheri no one says that around here it's almost always specific nicknames rather of things the person talking likes or the person listening likes. Please see petite for example.

Gambit is likely to say card related nicknames since he likes gambling, I know a few people who like playing cards who call people things like king and queen quite often as well as like 'my heart', 'little diamond'

In French those would be "reine" (Queen) or "dame" (lady/ queen) , "roi" (king) , "Mon cœur" (my heart/my core), " petite diamant" (little diamond)

For Alastor I'm not sure that there's anything radio related that people would use, my family has been in the radio business for a while and I've never heard any from any of my family members or my parents. He is likely to use deer related ones especially if they are puns.

Examples: " Mon biche" (feminine) or "Mon cerf" (masculine) (both mean my deer) , and "petite biche" (fem) or "petit cerf" (masc) (both mean little deer). He also likes music and that would be more like "Mon musique" (my music).

Any of these can just be said in English not every nick name or pet name is said in French.

Everyone is different so some people throw in more French some people less, nowadays people don't really speak fluent French unless they're old or rich.

Gambit was raised in a cult basically so he does get somewhat of a pass to speak more French if you want him to but it's not super common in New Orleans.

Alastor would have spoken French being from 1920s but being a radio host he probably would have also learned English and went through vocal training to get rid of his accent. ( My family has been in the Louisiana radio business for decades and they all had to train to get rid of their Cajun accents when they started working for the radio stations) Also Alastor is creole not Cajun I will explain the difference more towards the end.

If you want to add the characters speaking French you can just use Parisian French (French spoken in France) no one is gonna be upset if you do there are also no translators on the internet that I know of that have Cajun or Creole (Canadian is also acceptable if your Canadian or know Canadian)

There are a lot of different accents in Louisiana not just Cajun (called flat talk by locals most of the time) .

Some people speak with southern accents, some have Cajun but most talk like stereotypical Americans or have an accent that comes along with speaking AAVE.

Creole accents are like French and Jamaican accents combined it's pretty rare for people to have the accent nowadays though and for some people it can be slightly different

You don't have to write out accents if you don't want to.

Which leads to my next point most people in Louisiana speak in AAVE (African-American Vernacular English) especially closer to and in New Orleans.

The farther away from the 1930s-1940s the character(s) are the less French they will naturally speak and put into everyday encounters. Most people in present day Louisiana especially in areas like New Orleans don't speak French and only add in what few words they do know or are still within common use in day to day conversations.

After this point it is random facts about Louisiana ⬇️

Why did people stop speaking French in Louisiana after this specific period of time?

Great question, the answer is that there had been a law put in place at the time, that declared that everyone had to learn English as it was assigned as the official language of the United States. From what I've been told by my grandparents the law makers cited that they wanted Louisiana to be more welcoming to tourists and the large incoming crowd of refugees and migrants as the reason for the law being inacted.

My grandparents stated that it was probably so that the refugee and migrant crowds wouldn't isolate themselves to only people who spoke their languages. In order to keep unsavory groups from forming (if there were any n@zis among the German crowd, other axis power supporters among the Italians or Japan's crowds as well) they forced everyone to learn English.

I don't actually know what this law was but my grandparents have talked about it since I was little. They were forced to learn English when they hit elementary school and my great grandparents were forced to learn English or possibly lose their jobs, in some cases they were threatened with arrest or their children getting taken away.

This created fear that caused parents to decide to stop teaching their kids French. When my parents were born my grandparents barely taught them any French and mainly taught them English. Rarely anyone in my parents generation could speak or understand full French.

Some parents didn't want to teach their children French only for them to never be able to speak it outside the house.

I also have a feeling that this law was also partially put in place because of Quebec, Canada as they fought for their right to keep speaking French and threatened to become their own country if forced to conform to English like the rest of Canada. So the U.S. was probably trying to stop that from happening with Louisiana.

Also New Orleans has been regularly speaking English since before the rest of Louisiana was mandated to, because it is a port and always has been. It's also been a high tourism area for quite a while as well.

What is the difference between Cajun and Creole ?

Creole means French or Spanish settlers that came directly from the "motherland" (France or Spain) originally this term was more or less used to establish elite status as most of these people were from rich families and paid a lot of money to secure their position in the new colonies belonging to France the term was extended to the Spanish when they had control over Louisiana.

This term eventually came to blanket over slaves and their descendents as well that were under the control of these people, the current Creole culture was mainly shaped by these families as well as the families of Haitian slaves and their descendents that were also brought into Louisiana to serve the Creole people.

This is where voodoo and hoodoo become a part of creole culture because the enslaved persons brought their culture and religion with them from Africa to Haiti and then to Louisiana when they were forced to change location again.

Creole people lived mainly in New Orleans and the surrounding area, most of them owned farmland slightly farther out from the city but lived in the city center while things were tended to by enslaved persons and a person or persons designated to watch over their daily activities

Creoles didn't just enslave Africans they also enslaved impoverished European using manipulation tactics, most of these Europeans became freed people before African Americans and at some point we're given their own slaves which kept them from revolting surprisingly but in surprisingly. Creoles enslaved Cajuns when they first got to Louisiana by order of the king and then freed them when they realized they knew how to farm but gave them their own enslaved persons.

Most Creoles now are African Americans and lead an intricate culture different from Cajun culture that is mainly a mix of French and various African cultures with a little bit of Spanish culture as well.

Creole food and Cajun food aren't too different but some Cajun food has okra bases as to where creole dishes have a tomato base for most dishes as it was an over abundant resource of the New Orleans area.

Cajun people are from a French group of settlers that were originally supposed to create their own nation in Nova Scotia, Canada. They were a bunch of farmers sent there for the purpose of creating an agricultural specific nation using Canadian soil and plants.

Their county was called Acadia and they were called the Acadian people, they technically were not ruled by the king of France and were their own nation, this in fact caused problems especially because they were a young nation and were composed of farmers with no military or combat training and little to no weapons.

With no support from the king or way to form their own military, England forced them to pledge allegiance to rather the king of England or the king of France so they knew where Acadia stood, Acadia asked for help from France, France refused because they were their own nation and they didn't want to pledge allegiance to the king of England

So in true English fashion they burned the nation of Acadia to the ground and forced the Acadian people to leave, the Acadians went to Louisiana in hopes that they would help, the Creoles enslaved them and stuck them where they believed the land was uninhabitable and they would perish because of the order of the king of France

The Acadians being farmers were able to pick up on how to properly farm the land after being shown by natives (my tribe yay) and when the Creoles checked on them and found them alive the king of France made them free people's and gave them land from Acadiana, their new area of living in Louisiana to the what is now the lafourche parish area.

They were given enslaved persons and were put in charge of helping make Louisiana's exports a larger market. Cajun culture and dishes come from a mixture of Acadian, native American and African culture put together with the resources of the area, these dishes spread to the Creoles and were changed to match the resources of the New Orleans area and imported goods.

Cajuns are called Cajuns because the English misheard the name Acadian and so everyone started calling them Cajuns.

Cajun and Creole today doesn't nearly have as many connotations as the past, it mainly just means your family is from this Acadiana area or from New Orleans and you're a descendent of one of these groups

Do Cajuns and Creoles have beef with each other?

Nope, any beefing is mainly joking, and is specifically about the differences in the same dishes between the two cultures.

Does it matter if someone is Cajun or Creole?

Once again nope, Louisiana is a big mixing pot of cultures so no one really cares, everyone loves celebrating the different cultures in Louisiana especially of the newer groups that have joined over the decades through immigration.

I only specified with Alastor because I've seen people call him Cajun when vivzy has stated multiple times that he's Creole.

Enough about Cajuns here's some info on Mardi Gras:

Mardi Gras is one day at the end of the carnival season.

It's on a different day each year because it is a Catholic holiday and goes by the Catholic calendar which changes every year.

Mardi Gras means "fat Tuesday" which is the Catholic holiday the day before ash Wednesday which is a day of fasting and sobriety.

You don't have to be Catholic to celebrate.

Even though it's a Catholic holiday all of the parades are based on Greek and Egyptian mythology

The carnival season is different every year and lasts between 1-2 months before Mardi Gras day, Brazil has a similar celebration at the same time called carnival as well for the same reason.

The carnival season is typically in January- February or March.

All bars close at midnight on Mardi Gras day once it hits ash Wednesday and very few of them are open on ash Wednesday later in the day.

There are family friendly Mardi Gras parades which are most of them and specific parades for adults, typically at night, please don't flash your boobs that's illegal and makes people uncomfortable, the adult parades mean that they might give out alcohol and beads or other float throws that will contain adult symbols like marijuana or nudity. Some of these they throw things like purses and shoes and that's why it's classified as adult.

Anyone can join the parade even people not from New Orleans you just have to pay a fee for whichever parade you want to be in to secure a spot on a float and buy the beads and stuff that you throw, some parade you have to have a specific amount of items, to be allowed on the float

Some people go to other parades to get beads and other stuff for them to throw at their own parades (my family does this with the radio station vans lol)

People on floats throw beads, plushies, party favors, hand clappers, cups, dablooms , recorders and other plastic instruments, bouncy balls, other types of balls, inflatables, candy, chips , ramen, hair clips, plastic swords and plastic tomahawks

Most of the balls for specific parades are closed events for people on the committee but there are masquerade and non masquerade balls and parties held across the city throughout the carnival season, there is even one specifically for Neuro divergent people.

There is a kink parade, that is called "southern decadence" it is a gay pride parade that focuses on sex, kinks, drag burlesque and finding people to hook up with this happens typically around august. If you tell people your going to a gay pride parade they will side eye you because they assume it's this one and not the family friendly ones that happen in June.

The only other parades outside of carnival season and pride are a Christmas parade (krampus), a Halloween parade and st Patrick's Day parade (Irish and Italian American heritage parade)

A king cake is basically a cinnamon roll log that doesn't get cut into individual cinnamon rolls and gets formed into a ring and baked then has vanilla icing with colored sugar on top. There is a baby inside but if you pre order it you can ask for the baby to be put on the side or not included at all. The baby means you buy the next king cake and you will have luck.

It's encouraged to wear costumes to parades but you don't have to, it does get you more beads.

Have a bag or something to put your beads in if you wear them throughout the parade it will be painful and it will get you less stuff thrown at you.

Other random things about Louisiana I think are important:

It's warm throughout the year because this is a sub tropical area, in the summer it is constantly between 89°-115° please don't put characters in long sleeves or tons of layers in the summer.

It rains a lot like 50% of the year it rains

Not every part of Louisiana is swamp

There is no deep woods of massive swamps in the middle of the city of New Orleans, there are a few in the surrounding area but those are an hour -hour and a half out of your way by car at minimum

Hoodoo is magic , voodoo is a religion they are connected but not the same thing not everyone that practices voodoo practices hoodoo and vice versa. PLEASE DON'T MESS WITH THESE RELIGIOUS OR MAGICAL ARTIFACTS WITHOUT SOME WORKING KNOWLEDGE OF IT OR CONSENT/ PERMISSIONS, PLEASE FOLLOW THE RULES IN THE SHOPS.

There are also many practicing pagans and wiccans in New Orleans same rules apply.

Yes there are second lines (marching bands for parties) constantly going through the city but most of them are for funerals don't join them unless you're told you can.

Most people from Louisiana have pretty bad seasonal allergies

There is way more to the city of New Orleans then the French quarter, the French quarter is only like 10 streets

We have a ferry that goes from Algiers (west bank New Orleans) to New Orleans proper (east bank, actually main part to the city) it lets out at the aquarium. There is another one that goes from Algiers to Chalmette (part of the greater New Orleans area)

The greater New Orleans area is the area around New Orleans where most of the people that work and hangout in New Orleans actually live, this includes Jefferson parish and st. Bernard parish. There is still a high population of people who live in the city itself.

Baton Rouge is the capital of Louisiana it is about an hour and a half west of New Orleans by car

People go to Grand Isle, Louisiana or to Biloxi, Mississippi to go to the beach

There is a water park outside of Baton Rouge called blue bayou that's really popular the other water park in the area is Jellystone but most people call it yogi bear because it's a yogi bear theme park

Fairs happen in Louisiana between May - June and then again in September - October

Around Christmas most parks have Christmas lights displays that you can drive or walk through or Christmas villages

People actually play jazz music on street corners in New Orleans, it's not every street corner and most of them are concentrated to being closer to the French quarter

Most bars have a mixture of live music and a dj more upscale places with stick to jazz but most other places have rock, hip hop, r&b, rap and bounce, closer to Lafayette they play zydeco more often then jazz

Louisiana is the state with the second highest gambling rate behind Nevada, there are multiple casinos in Louisiana and even private gambling clubs that you have to know someone to get into

Street cars are like busses on set rails, basically an above ground subway system. You have to pay a fee to ride and can find out the various paths that these take through the RTA (New Orleans public transportation) system or station

You can get electrocuted if you stand on the street car rails if the street car is close by and not stopped, if you see one coming towards you get off of the rails so you don't get hit it takes a little while to stop the car.

Hurricane season begins in May and ends at the beginning of November

People in New Orleans keep pet chickens and some of them just let them roam the neighborhood. So it's not uncommon to see a chicken walking around in a residential neighborhood

Some people in Louisiana have houses raised on stilts because of flooding, their are stairs to get to the house (I've had tourists ask me about this before that's why I'm mentioning it)

Yes we can tell when you're a tourist it's pretty obvious (typically it's because they try to hard to fit in or they wear beads outside of Mardi Gras and get drunk at 12 pm)

New Orleans is the largest city in Louisiana

You will find many different cultures in Louisiana not just Cajuns and Creoles because of immigration, these cultures are all very much celebrated in Louisiana

The most common non English languages spoken in New Orleans are Spanish, Vietnamese and Arabic as currently.

Here's some food from Louisiana:

A quarter of New Orleans (not the French quarter) smells like coffee because of the community coffee plant and during certain times of the year with strong winds the whole city smells like coffee

We eat red beans and rice on Monday's to honor deceased enslaved persons as they would typically eat red beans and rice once a week because they were only allowed to eat protein once a week. Not everyone knows that, I learned about this from Whitney plantation they might have information about it on their website. Not everyone eats red beans and rice every Monday or only on Monday's that's just tradition.

For creole version remember to add tomatoes

Seasoning blend is onions, red bell pepper, celery, parsley, and garlic

Jambalaya:

A dish where you cook down meat and seasoning blend and seasonings, typically the meat is chicken and sausage together then add rice and water into the pot and cook until rice is soft.

Sometimes people add cubed pork or beef, peeled shrimp, peeled crawfish, or other left over meats they have on hand.

Gumbo

A thinned brown stew with seasoning blend, at least chicken and sausage and seasonings, served over rice with fíle (a ground sassafras seasoning)

Other meats included peeled shrimp, peeled crawfish , deshelled or soft shell crab, and oysters

Cajuns sometimes add smothered okra Creoles typically add stewed / smothered tomatoes, I've seen some people add both it's up to preferences and family recipes.

Often served with potato salad

Étouffée

Peeled shrimp or peeled crawfish, seasoning and seasoning blend served in a cream shellfish flavored gravy served over rice

Sauce Piquante

Chicken, shrimp or catfish stewed in a mixture of seasoning blend, seasoning, Rotel , crushed tomatoes, diced tomatoes and tomato sauce, served over rice

One of few dishes that have no changes between Cajun and Creole recipes

Boudin

Rice dressing in a sausage casing, typically steamed or smoked

Cracklins

Extra crispy fried pork skins with some meat still attached covered in spices

Po-boy

Warm deli meats or fried seafood, sometimes in gravy on French bread (not baguettes) with mayo, lettuce and tomatoes

Sometimes has cheese, pickles or mustard typically left to customer preference on this one

Beignet

Square fried donuts covered in powdered sugar

Typically eaten with coffee, tea, hot chocolate or chocolate milk

King cakes

Cinnamon roll log made into a ring formation with vanilla icing and colored sugar on top, has a baby inside that means you buy the next king cake if you get it and good luck

Can have different fillings

Seasonal to January through March

Natchitoches meat pie

Pie dough filled with ground beef or crawfish baked into a hand held pie.

Sorry that this is so much information I hope this is helpful for people who want to write about characters from Louisiana.

Hope this helps @lifes-line sorry it's so long.

[evilgwrl]

Super in love with your work it's amazing.

So I had this idea maybe you'd like? Just an idea: Do with it what you will

So reader is a coworker with Simon, and she's like super strong-willed, doesn't take bullshit from anyone type person, good at what she does and knows it, and Simon fucking loves that, loves a woman that can put someone in their place. He thinks it's just respect at first, but one day, he sees her yelling at some recruits and gets so turned on from the sight that he can't think of anything else.

Interested with what you might do with it or how you'd continue it if you decide to write it

Have a nice rest or your day either way

I love this!!

CW: Military inaccuracies, Ghost gets boners for you, sexual tensions and allusions to further smut but nothing graphic

They called you Hawk due to your impeccable eyesight. You were hard-headed with a vast efficiency to pinpoint a target miles away, your bullet already penetrating the air before others could even see it. You were a quick fit into the Task Force with a shabby sense of humour and ability to take control.

Working in a male-dominated industry should’ve scared you, but it didn’t. You were a whirlwind on your feet, easily able to toggle areas and courses without even a remote struggle. You thrived at what you did, constantly garnering respect from those around you. Maybe that’s why Ghost was so intrigued by you.

He tied it down to a “respect thing”, enjoying that a woman was able to put anyone in their place no matter the size of who she was dealing with. That’s why he was slightly confused at the growing bulge in his cargo pants.

Your face was contorted in frustration, tangled eyebrows furrowed as you yelped commands at a group of soldiers. Your hands were resting on your hips, a scowl on your face as you groaned.

“Private Matthews, did I or did I not say that you should never take your eye off an opponent?”

“You did, ma’am.”

“You will refer to me as Sergeant, private,” you snapped, “Get back in the ring and do it correctly this time.”

Ghost adjusted, turning his attention back to the group of soldiers before him, barking out his own orders, umber eyes occasionally darting over to you, entranced at how simple it was for you to command.

You were seated next to Soap, ass flush on the seat as you grumbled about how idiotic some people were, bragging about how certain you were that you were never there incompetent.

“Aye, lass, can’t all be like you, can we?”

You nudged the Scotsman’s shoulder, offering him a toothy smile as you went on to joke around. Ghost watched you as he approached, looking at the way your eyes were always high, never stooping to the ground with discomfort. You smiled as the Lieutenant joined you, missing the way his eyes racked over you.

“Bonnie here was just saying she could easily tackle you in a shuttle run, LT,” Soap joshed, earning you an eye roll.

“That so?” Ghost’s voice was naturally loud, a deep husk protruding from every word as he looked at you. You shrugged, tossing him a teasing smirk.

“Won’t know until we find out, will we Lieutenant?”

Ghost could feel himself straining again, pants tightening at your display of confidence before you excused yourself, muttering about hitting the gym to wear you out. Ghost was quick to follow, scoffing down the remainder of his food and rushing out a goodbye before heavy feet were trailing behind you.

You were clad in a loose pair of gym shorts, a well-fitted green singlet sporting against your skin as gloved fists pummelled a punching bag. You were quick, feet skidding against the ground as you huffed out shallow breaths.

“You have good form,” Ghost spoke, clearing his throat.

You turned around, hair swishing in a messy pony as you looked at him, brow raised, “Did you doubt me, Lieutenant?”

“Unsure. Never sparred with you, ‘ave I, Hawk?”

“You asking to spar with me, Ghost?”

He rolled his eyes as you walked up to him, a cocky smirk on your face as you got into position. You were both quick, entangled limbs battering against one another as you both ducked, blurting out expletives as your clothes moulded with trickles of sweat.

Ghost was practically mesmerised by the way you moved, somehow making sparring look elegant. The Lieutenant knocked you to your feet, your body crashing onto the ground with a slam as you groaned, staring up at him with irked eyes.

“Didn’t anyone warn you to take it easy on a lady?” You miffed; your face contorted with annoyance as you glared at him.

Ghost frowned slightly, taking in your pained expression before he was knocked between the ankles, joining you on the ground as you giggled out a laugh, clambering on top of him with a finger gun pointed to his head.

“Shouldn’t underestimate your opponents, LT, no matter how annoyed they look.”

Ghost let out a grunt as he flipped the two of you over, your hands pinned above your head. “Never underestimated you, sweet’art.”

Your bodies radiated heat, thick smog of tension pummelling into the atmosphere as your eyes interlocked. You licked your lip, forehead wet with salty moisture as you maintained composure.

“You gonna keep me like this all night, Lieutenant?” Your tone was sultry, wringing him in with every syllable as he pressed against you, growing bulge prominent against your clothed sex as you glanced down.

“Thinking about it.”

[trulyumai]

make that two

—synopsis: yeah, Eddie was down bad. he couldn’t even read a few sentences in before casting his gaze back on you. I mean… could you blame him?

—warnings: none!

—pairings: eddie munson / gf! reader

You sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a hefty textbook while Eddie paced nearby, running a hand through his curly hair.

“Okay, so we need to focus on the themes of existentialism in this novel,” you said, trying to keep your tone light. “How about we start with the main character’s struggles?”

Eddie paused mid-pace, his dark eyes drifting toward you. You looked up, and for a moment, the world outside faded. His lips curved into a lazy grin, and you could see the admiration etched in his expression. “Honestly, sweetheart, I think you’re more interesting than this assignment.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to suppress a smile. “Come on, Eddie! We can’t just blow it off. We’ve got to pass this class.”

He sat down beside you, resting his chin on his hand, a teasing spark in his eyes. “Yeah, but look at you! How am I supposed to concentrate when you’re sitting there like the goddess of wisdom?”

You felt your cheeks heat at his compliment. “You’re impossible,” you laughed, nudging him lightly. “Focus, or I’ll start charging you for tutoring sessions.”

Eddie chuckled, leaning closer, his presence warm and comforting. “Alright, fine. Let’s talk about ‘existentialism’ or whatever.” But his gaze remained fixed on you, and it was clear that his mind was elsewhere.

“Eddie,” you said, trying to pull him back to the task at hand. “The themes—”

“Yeah, themes,” he interrupted, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “But seriously, how do you make studying look so good? It’s not fair.”

You tried to stifle a grin, but it was futile. “You’re just saying that to distract me!”

“Guilty as charged,” he said, feigning a dramatic sigh. “But can you blame me? You’re like a ray of sunshine on a gloomy day.”

You shook your head, exasperated yet delighted. “Okay, Mr. Munson. Let’s make a deal. If you can stay focused for ten minutes, I’ll reward you with… a kiss.”

Silence ensued. You almost wanted to take the words right back before he bolted up.

His eyes widened, and you could practically see the gears turning in his mind. “Ten minutes? That’s a long time in Eddie-world,” he said, puffing out his chest playfully. “But I accept your challenge, fair maiden!”

As you both settled into the assignment, Eddie’s mind wandered again, his gaze drifting back to you. He watched the way you flipped through the pages, the way your hair caught the light, and the soft concentration on your face. It was impossible to focus when you were there, right in front of him, like a muse.

Shit, was he always so.. smitten like this?

“Okay, okay,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “This isn’t working. I’m failing already.”

You giggled, finally meeting his eyes. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But really, I can’t help it. You’ve got this… magnetism. It’s like a spell you’ve cast over me. Wait.. you’re not some warlock are you?!”

Your heart raced at his words. And no matter how much you wanted to laugh, you still grunted out a displeasurable sound. “Eddie, focus! We need to get this done!”

With a dramatic sigh, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Fine, I’ll focus. But just know that my thoughts are filled with visions of you. It’s your fault I can’t pay attention.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, feeling lighter in his presence. “Alright, one more attempt. Let’s break it down together.”

For the next few minutes, you guided him through the key points of the assignment, his attention wavering but gradually sharpening as you spoke. When you finished, you leaned in closer, a smile on your face. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Not with you around,” Eddie replied, leaning in as well, his eyes sparkling with mischief and admiration. “Now, about that kiss…”

“Eddie!”

….

“…please?”

[sugurouge]

— can you try me? nanami kento x f!reader

summary: after a rough day, there's only one solution to kento's pent up frustrations

content warnings! smut, pet names (little devil, perfect / good girl), dirty talk, reader gets carried around and manhandled, wall sex, teasing, size difference, praise, one or two spanks

wordcount: 3.2k

Days like these are the worst, Nanami thinks once he closes the door to your apartment and allows himself a moment of breather. He can already hear your favourite creator talking in the living room, the sound of the TV mixing with your clueless giggles to leave no room for Kento’s tired sounds to arrive in the next room.

The best course of action is to shed himself off his belongings and make his way over to the kitchen. The ghost of his tall figure dances in your peripheral vision, luring you in to immediately get up to follow your grumpy-cat of a boyfriend towards his desired destination—the stash of treats hidden in one of the kitchen cabinets.

“Oh, oh, somebody had a rough day…” you conclude upon his silent search for something sweet. He can’t help but feel caught red-handed. So Nanami only leans back for his head to pop up behind the door, tired eyes swiftly roaming over your figure before his attention gets redirected towards the treasures inside your cabinet. “Yeah,” is his quiet reply, and the crinkle of wrapping paper follows suit.

You won’t even attempt to hide your chuckle upon his little pick-me-up ritual, you’re too used to him being a softie by now. “What about having proper dinner instead of sweets, Kento?” you propose while you stalk over to him and wrap your arms around his waist as you place a chaste kiss on his back.

He cringes at the drawl of his name, well aware of how counterproductive and immature his cravings for sweets as comfort are, yet plops another chocolate in his mouth. “Maybe later.”

How a man his height frees himself that quickly from your hug always leaves you dumbfounded, but you let him play his game of hard to get. “Well, anyway… I’m going to continue watching that travel series, feel free to join me,” you tease, knowing exactly that he can’t resist the temptation.

But at least you give him some time and space as you’re sat on the couch. Nanami continuously fiddles with the wrapping paper of his recent chocolate while his attention lingers on the screen, eyes glued to the TV and the heavenly beach scenery. He definitely needs to book a vacation with you soon.

You close the gap between your bodies over the course of the night, slowly shuffling towards his figure as you adjust your sitting position. From leaning against the arm of the couch to sitting cross-legged and finally, carefully, your fingertips brush over his hand once you lean your head against his shoulder. You feel a soft kiss pressed to the crown of your head and smile to yourself, hiding your face behind the firm muscles of his biceps. “Meanie,” you mumble, and your eyes peek up to his face.

Nanami’s head is already turned towards you, a certain gentleness lingers in his eyes that are illuminated by the TV screen as they meet your curious gaze. “Come here,” is his demand while his hand already holds the back of your knee, to swiftly pull you on his lap to straddle him.

Your arms find rest around his neck to allow yourself to bask in his scent, the lingering fragrance of his body wash calming you down as you place soft kisses on his cheek. The gentle pressure applied on his neck by your fingers tempts Nanami to close his eyes, his arms moving to rest around your waist, pulling you in for a close hug. “Wanna talk about it?” you question with a soft voice. The use of your fingernails on his scalp sends shivers running along Kento’s spine.

“No…” Nanami starts but interrupts himself with another sigh, “maybe later. I don't want to burden you with troubles you cannot help me with.” You gently cup his face and redirect his gaze to meet yours, hoping for him to notice the love pooling in your tender gaze. “You’re the best,” the words are whispered against his lips, yet you don’t fully close the distance to let him decide the course of the evening.

Don't play games with him tonight.

You feel his fingertips dance upward your spine to cradle the back of your head and let his lips crash with yours. He’s so greedy, so needy for love, you can tell by the way he prolongs the kiss until he nearly runs out of breath.

And despite enjoying these types of kisses more than anything, you break away. A slightly annoyed groan slips past his lips while his arms return to lay around your waist as his forehead rests against your shoulder. Once this man gets a taste, he turns greedy; you’ve learned that this not only applies to sweets—but to you as well.

So he tries once more. Kissing you once more; ever so gently while thumbing your cheek. Nanami’s soft lips mould against yours as your tongues meet between parted lips at such an awfully slow pace, he can practically feel you grow needy in his hold. His teeth nibble on your lower lip, tugging on the sensitive flesh before pulling on the soft flesh. Tender eyes immediately meet yours, lust hidden in both pairs as you stare at each other. “I missed you a lot today,” Nanami murmurs, while featherlight touches explore your sensitive body. His kisses roam along your neck and the burning trail of his fingertips flows along your calves and thighs.

“I missed you too,” you exhale, craning your neck for him as your eyes fall shut, fully basking in the he addictive feel of his touch ruling over your body and mind.

The whispered demand of “tell me what you want,” sends goosebumps to spread over your skin. Long fingers pull the straps of your top and bra off your shoulder, allowing Nanami’s lips to fully explore your collarbone and litter kisses along your body like you’re his favourite candy. The rough pads of his tongue wet your skin as he licks over the irritated areas where he previously sucked.

“Is it—, is it weird if I just… just want you to use me tonight?” Nanami curses beneath his breath, and you feel his grip on your body tighten, blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he hums in reply, head dipping lower until his bangs tickle your collarbone.

His kisses lead to your chest, where he tugs at the hem of your top to further expose your breasts. “You wear so much… how do you expect me to spoil you like this?” he complains with a trace of irritation in his voice. His hands dip beneath the hem of your top and tease your skin. “Be good for me and take it off.”

Yet his patience seemingly runs thin as he already lifts the fabric to expose your figure, carelessly throwing the top over his shoulder as his lips immediately attach to your chest once more. Sloppy kisses cover your skin until he arrives at your breasts, his hands gently squeezing your soft mounds above your bra—desiring to hear your moans for him as his teeth graze the sensitive skin.

With his warm palm pressed flat against your back, he shares warmth and strength with you as you lean back further, allowing his kisses to cover your sternum. “Kento,” you practically mewl his name, your fingers tugging at his roots as your hips roll against his, seeking friction where you need him most. “Kento, please…”

Nanami pulls back almost immediately, the tip of his nose following the path his lips created on your skin until his mouth meets yours. “Patience is a virtue,” the words nothing but a husky murmur. But your fingers know better than to hold still, already palming his biceps and shoulders. You brush your nose against his, the plea in your eyes clear as day as you drive him towards madness. “Want to feel you inside me... Can’t be patient if all I want is right in front of me, Kento—,” a surprised yelp interrupts your words as he simply hoists you up.

The sheer strength behind his actions makes you jump in his hold and your arms fly around his neck to stabilise yourself. Nanami simply chuckles right next to your ear, teeth nibbling at the flesh. “Not so cheeky anymore,” his hands guide your legs around his waist, carrying you out of the living room to make his way to your bedroom.

If it wasn’t for the little demon inside you, convincing you to already move your hips against his, moaning sweetly just for him. You break one of his rules by marking his neck, lips attaching to his perfect skin and sucking a deep patch of red, which causes him to hiss and land a spank to your ass, quickly followed by a particularly painful pinch.

You won't even attempt to hide your amusement, giggling so innocently while further pushing yourself against his body until your back meets the cold wall of your hallway and Nanami forces you to look at him, grip on your hair strong as his face hovers above yours.

You simply stare at him, challenging him for actions. Nanami’s expression seems calculated as his eyes roam over your face until they lock on your lips—which widen into your cheekiest grin. “Kento~,” is your sinfully innocent sigh of his name. You arch your back and place one hand on the nape of his neck, pulling his face towards your breasts while you unclasp your bra with your free hand.

“Little devil,” he mumbles, but complies as he takes one nipple between his lips, letting the tip of his tongue swirl around the nub as his teeth play with your sensitivity.

Your hips grind against his clothed erection, slow and teasing, to have him grunt and seek further pressure. “Sometimes…” he breathes, but pauses to clear his thoughts. “Sometimes…?” you repeat. The audacity to chuckle over his struggles annoys Nanami further as his icy glare meets your twinkling eyes. “Sometimes I could simply—,” Nanami leans closer, exhaling a breath over your ear that makes your eyes fall heavy. “Simply fuck you until you beg me to be nice again. But you want that, don’t you?” Your nod follows before he even finishes his words, and you turn your head for your lips to brush against each other once more—greedily pulling him down to kiss him again.

Your moans meet between your parted lips, mouths hungrily moving against each other as flimsy fingers rake over his clothed chest. The desperate whine from your lips upon not being able to directly feel his muscles beneath your touch is almost too cute.

Your feet reach the floor once your lips part, leaving you awfully aware of your usual size difference as you gaze up at him. 

Nanami follows your request in a heartbreak, unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing the fabric carelessly aside, so unlike his usual prim and proper behaviour. You really bring out the worst in him. 

Your shameless gaze tracks every little crevice on his built figure as you subconsciously wet your lips. “Greedy,” he mumbles, yet he knows he isn’t much better, as his fingers already run along your hips and dip beneath the fabric of your shorts and panties until they fall to the floor. 

You stand on your toes as you search for his lips, one hand tracing over the shape of his erection beneath his pants before finally freeing him from his restraints. His cock rests heavy in the palm of your hand, but the satisfaction your smaller hand offers him is worth millions. Nanami’s hands rest against the wall behind you, his head lolling forward until his erratic pants fan over your skin.  “And so, so impatient,” you complete his previously started sentence as you pull back. 

The moment you bring your fingertips to your lips, your eyes meet his, to ensure Kento witnesses your tongue cleaning off his pre-cum from your hand. You love to make his composure falter. 

He exhales a shaky curse before you see his jaw tighten, brows creasing in frustration, or confusion(?). “How—, why do I still want to ruin you even when I’m in a bad mood...” His quiet confession draws your bottom lip between your teeth, it makes you clench around nothing as desire starts to overflow inside you—a selfish part of you loves his sour mood. The slow kisses you plant along his chest only make it harder for him now. Nanami’s hands land on your waist and pull you close against him, his subtle moans meeting your ear right away. “Then do it,” you mumble as your hand returns to move along his shaft. 

Yet you don’t expect his fingertips to immediately dig into your ass and lift you once more. You squeak as your hands grip onto his shoulders, searching for some sort of stabilisation. Nanami presses your back against the wall, his chest cages your body between the hard wall and his muscular frame, with the tip of his cock prodding against your entrance. Yet he refuses to lower your body in his hold. 

“Do what?” he asks, seemingly clueless, while the tip of his nose bumps against yours. He can see the answer clearly in your eyes, but it's just so much more satisfying to hear it coming from your lips. “Ruin me.” You demand with a gentle whisper. It rewards you with a rare smile to soften his stern features, while Nanami steadily lowers your position, allowing you to feel each drag of him inside your walls—despite the almost embarrassingly easy entrance thanks to your arousal. 

Nanami presses your back against the wall as he straightens himself to stand at full size. Your limited mobility leaves him in full control, his cock slowly thrusting inside you until he feels you adjust to his girth. Your hands wander over his body, appreciating his broad shoulders or tugging on his hair as his movements gain strength. You moan his name in return, arms snaking around his neck for support as he keeps pressing you against the wall while his cock drags along your clenching walls. 

The desperation of your walls trying to keep him inside seems utterly amusing as a rare tease slips past his lips right into your ear: “Greedy, always so greedy.” 

He moans lowly and leans his forehead on your shoulder as he keeps thrusting—bouncing your body up with each push inside you with ease. His hands squeeze your hips, further controlling your movements when he creates some space between your body and the wall. 

Your eyes widen in shock—the fear of falling makes you involuntarily clench harder. “Afraid I can’t manage to hold my woman?” Nanami feels challenged, the struggle in his voice clear as you refuse to loosen up around his shaft. Until only your shoulders rest against the wall and his gentle grip helps you grind against his pelvis. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hips subconsciously applying further pressure until the delicious friction of his cock has your thighs twitching against his hips. 

Your moans meet between your bodies as you slowly circle your hips, grinding against his pubic bone as you feel your orgasm approaching. Nanami busies himself by dousing your chest and stomach with deep kisses, holding still to the best of his ability despite the need to simply thrust into you. 

“You feel so good,” he murmurs. Groans escape him as his hips stutter against you, his cock throbbing inside you and twitching in utter despair. Your legs jerk at his actions, your back arching just a bit more as another moan falls from your parted lips. 

You lure his eyes to open again with a seductive drawl of his name, forcing him to witness your hands roaming over your body; along your chest as your fingertips redraw the round of your breasts before you cup them. Gently fondling them in front of him and playing with your nipples, you don’t even try to hide your deep moans. 

Nanami clenches his jaw, biting back his groan as you pulse around him so perfectly. How badly he wants to play with your breasts. 

He returns to fully press your back into the stone, his hips leaving no room as he grinds up into you, stimulating your clit once more. You paw at his chest and shoulders, your head leaning back as you gasp for air. The way he holds you open and simply thrusts into you is erratic. 

You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and he feels your nails scratching his back, leaving careless marks like he was your personal scratching post. “So close,” you promise, biting your bottom lip as a smug little smirk decorates his handsome features. “Good girl, such a perfect girl.” 

Yet even the strongest man gets overtaken by exhaustion eventually. And spoiling you with his deep thrusts and his kisses, moans and groans can get tiring.

You kiss him almost frantically, your back lifting off the wall as you fully cling onto Nanami. Overwhelmed with your need, he topples a few steps back. Luckily, he is a man of quick solutions—opting to get down on his knees and place you on the carpet of the hallway. His hands grip your thighs and press you against him as he ruthlessly snaps his hips against you, his cock hitting just the right spots. 

The mess you’ve turned him into is the prettiest version of Kento you’ll ever see, sweat dripping down along his temples and over his chest—highlighting his lean and strong build as his brows furrowed in deep desperation. 

Strangled moans and harsh pants come from his lungs as he makes you cream all over him. Your fingers nearly claw at his wrist thanks to the perfect pressure applied by his thumb on your clit as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The countless moans of “Kento” and “so good” sound like music to his ears, he never thought he’d be a man who could listen to a song on repeat.

Once he finally allows himself to let go, he blankets your smaller figure with his frame. Nanami’s hips maintain a shallow pace, spreading his cum inside your deeply stimulated cunt while he touches your figure with tender care until his arms reach around your back to hoist you up into his lap. 

Your body feels almost limp from your orgasm, making it awfully alluring to allow yourself to lean into his chest and close your eyes. Nanami’s fingers brush your hair out of your face, the thrumming of his heart hammering against his ribcage quite clear for you to witness as he holds you closer against him. 

“Are you okay?” both of you ask at the same time, to which he offers a rare chuckle as he shakes his head. “Let me clean you up, yes?” A simple hum is all your tired reply consists of, simply letting him carry you to your bathroom. 

You could already pass out once the soft cloth stops teasing your sensitive body parts—if it weren’t for the curious fingers touching your figure while water begins to surround both of you. 

Actually, days like these are the best, Nanami concludes, as long as you’re there.

dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/strangergraphics