#asks will now slow down too because i need to. finish part two first | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fyorina · 2 months

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ᡣ𐭩 DRIVE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: against all odds, you come across dazai osamu again, and you somehow find yourself roped into being his date for an event celebrating the armed detective agency. you're not falling. you swear. (you're lying). {wordcount: 9.2k; fem!reader, sfw, romance}

AUTHOR'S NOTES part 2 is hereeeeee! i hope you guys enjoy, this scene had one of my favs to write so i hope you like it too!! reblogs definitely appreciated!! i’ll reblog with the taglist as soon as it decides to show on the dash & in the tags!

SEE: BADLANDS SERIES MASTERLIST READ: UNREAL UNEARTH SIDE B

“We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You aren’t sure how you feel as you stare at the man hanging upside down, tangled in a tapestry—amused, concerned, partly puzzled, a combination of all three really. Dazai Osamu looks half out of it as his gaze focuses on you; you wonder how long he’s been hanging like this, and how he managed to get in this position in the first place.

For the second time in two weeks, the man manages to catch you off guard, this time on your way home from a date that had gone horribly, horribly wrong with a classmate; you’d already spent the past two hours wandering the streets upset over all of this and you were ready to get home, but now you find yourself hesitating.

“Ah, my sweet, sweet belladonna, my lovely savior,” Dazai sighs, directing a quick, flirty smile toward you. “Won’t you help a poor, suffering man?”

“How did you manage this, Dazai?” you ask, letting the entertainment slip into your tone to distract yourself from the stress of the failed date as you look around and try to figure out the best way to get him down from where he’s entangled. You’d have to climb up onto the nearby dumpster to get enough reach to cut him down but you don’t even have anything to cut him down with.

“I tried to jump off that building,” he sighs, and you follow his gaze up to the tall building right to the left of the two of you. Your lips part in shock, you suppose you should have figured something like that because how else would he end up tangled upside down in a tapestry, but it’s still jarring to hear. “But I hit this on the way down and got stuck. I’ve been here for way too long, so many people have passed me by without helping—what a cruel, cruel world.”

“You are either the luckiest or unluckiest man alive,” you murmur, catching sight of a jagged piece of metal underneath the dumpster, picking it up and doing your best to climb onto it, but it’s difficult in heels and a dress. “Why are you so intent on dying?”

“Why are you so intent on living?” Dazai hits you with a question back instead of responding, peering up at you as he slowly spins in the air while you do your best to cut through the thick tapestry.

You frown at the question, brows furrowing. “Because I have things I still need to accomplish. Goals to achieve. Don’t you?”

“The only goal I need to achieve is finding a beautiful lady to do a double suicide with,” Dazai says, lips curling up into another charming smile but the effects of it are diminished because of the way he was still hanging upside down, spinning in slow circles. “Would you like to join me, bella?”

“Maybe in fifty years,” you say dryly.

“I’ll-”

Dazai doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you finally cut through the tapestry and he tumbles down head first to the ground. You bite back a smile as he lets out a loud yelp, crumpling on the ground in an unceremonious heap. You lower yourself back down to the ground, eyes settling on him as you watch him push himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head.

He looks up at you through his lashes, the charming smile on his lips a bit more lazy and casual as he looks over you. “My, aren’t you dressed pretty? What’s the occasion?” As you prepare to give a bullshit excuse, he holds up his hand and says: “Wait! Let me guess. A long day of work and no one to go out with after, so you decided to get all dressed up and walk around the city to see if fate would lead you to someone, and since our fingers are tied by that thin red thread, naturally, you were led right to me. Oh, my fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death so easily despite so many attempts, destiny refused to let me die as we’re predestined to be together.”

You stare at him, watching as he presses the back of his hand to his forehead, tilting his head back because what the fuck?

“I was on a date,” you say, ignoring the entire rest of what he said to answer his question, truthfully at that because his whole tirade about destiny and fate had thrown you off.

Dazai wilts, but then straightens up again and says, “Well, it couldn’t have been a good one if he didn’t at least walk you home.”

You grimace. “I think I should be insulted by how pleased you look at my night being ruined,” you mutter, holding your hand out to him to help him up.

Dazai places his hand in yours; long, thin fingers wrapped around your hand as you help him to his feet. He doesn’t let go immediately, nor does he back away, brown eyes lidded as he looks down at you, so close that your clothes were brushing his. The corner of his lips tilt up, his fingertips grazing your inner wrist. “How about we make the most of a ruined night then?”

You raise your eyebrows—you think you should get back to your apartment, get some work done to make up for how much of a mess the night had turned out, but you find yourself hesitating because do you really want to go wallow alone now?

“How do you plan we do that?” you ask instead of giving him an answer, although he evidently takes it as an answer considering his face lights up at your words.

“Come on,” he says, tugging your arm as he turns to make his way down the sidewalk, dragging you along with him. “I’ll show you someplace.”

“O-okay,” you fumble over your words in surprise, but it isn’t like Dazai is giving you much of a choice considering the way he’s pulling you along with him.

Your face feels hot when you notice the people still prowling the streets shooting the two of you odd looks—Dazai doesn’t seem to care, focusing on getting you to whatever destination he has planned, but you can feel their eyes burning into you with every step you take.

“Ignore them,” Dazai says, as if he can read your thoughts. He tosses his head over his shoulder as he looks at you, the corner of his lips curling up into another lazy smile that makes your breath catch. “They don’t know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” is all you reply with, a bit doubtfully as you turn your gaze up to the dark skies, where the dark clouds you had noticed earlier in the day are now gathered over the city. “It’s going to rain.”

Dazai only raises his eyebrows, face riddled with disbelief as he turns fully to look at you, walking backwards without a care in the world as he forces people to walk around him. “Now, you care about rain?” he asks, referring to your first meeting.

You let out a puff of laughter. “I guess you have a point.”

“Naturally,” he says, teeth gleaming beneath the streetlamps as his grin widens. “I’m one of the Agency’s sharpest detectives, after all.”

“How humble,” you note, but your voice is light, teasing, and you’re almost embarrassed.

Dazai is unbothered by your playful dig, spinning back around to turn down the sidewalk onto a busier street, carelessly pulling you along with him and causing people to swerve around the two of you. You try to fumble out apologies as people shoot the two of you dirty looks but Dazai barely gives you enough time to speak the words as he continues down the street.

“Have you heard?” Dazai asks, returning to walking backward so he can look at you, garnering even more angry looks. “We’re heroes now.”

You have heard, of course, it’s all over the news. You hadn’t been in Yokohama when everything happened, you were visiting a friend outside of the city, but you’d seen it all going down on the TV as it was happening. And naturally, it’s impossible to avoid all of the news articles honoring the Armed Detective Agency and their part in taking down the threat to the city afterward.

“I have,” you drawl, and then add after a moment’s hesitation: “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating instead of…”

Instead of trying to kill yourself.

“This is me celebrating,” Dazai says mournfully, so casually that it takes you aback as he tilts his head back in grief. “It was supposed to be successful this time.”

“Well…” You aren’t sure what to say to that, the words dying on your lips as the first raindrops begin to fall from the sky. “I’m glad it wasn’t successful,” you finally decide upon, averting your gaze as Dazai’s face shifts into one of surprise as he looks down at you.

His lips part as if to say something, but seems to decide against it, instead letting a smile slip onto his face as he says: “Speaking of celebrations, my sweet belladonna, this hero needs a date to the celebratory event that the government is hosting for us in two weeks. Join me?”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, as the rain begins to come down harder—a flash flood, you realize. You watch as people start scattering around you, running for cover, but you and Dazai remain standing in the middle of the sidewalk, him awaiting your answer and you trying to figure out how to politely say you’d rather die than go to a celebratory event with people you don’t know.

You wonder if Dazai suspects your answer because he does not, in fact, give you the chance to speak.

Your eyes widen as he tugs you closer to him. “What’re you doing?” you stutter over your words as his free hand finds your hip and he spins the two of you around recklessly, forcing several people to dodge again as they run past the two of you and into a store to wait for the sudden rain to pass. Only his firm grip on you keeps you from slipping on the puddles forming on the sidewalk beneath the two of you. “Dazai!”

“Dancing,” is all he replies with, eyes shining as he lifts his arm to twirl you beneath it, your heels splashing in a puddle as he drags you along with his dance like a puppet. “It’s supposed to be romantic—dancing in the rain—I’ve seen it in movies, are you romanced, yet?”

You aren’t sure what makes you want to laugh, maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation or the way Dazai keeps having to blink away the raindrops that fall into his eyes, but before you know it, you're biting your lower lip to withhold the giggles rising through your chest.

“Are you laughing at me?” Dazai gasps in mock offense as he spins you outward once. You nearly trip over your heels but before you can, he’s spinning you back toward him, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips you down. “And here I was thinking I was doing a good job romancing you.”

His voice drops an octave as he lowers his voice, dark eyes searching yours, and you think that there’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, his hair is wet and matted against his forehead, dripping in your face as he hangs over you, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his body heat radiating against yours. Lightning webs across the sky above him, illuminating his face in a way that has your breath catching. You’re in heels and a dress and you can so easily trip and break your ankle, it’s only his hold on you preventing that from happening. It’s dangerous, and stupid—and maybe it’s a little romantic.

“I-”

You aren’t even able to get the admission from your lips because as soon as you begin to speak, someone slams into Dazai from behind. You yelp and his eyes widen as he stumbles forward, twisting the two of you around so he takes the brunt of the fall. He hits the ground hard with an ‘oof,’ half in the muddy grass and half on the sidewalk, and you fall on top of him, lips parted in shock.

“Well,” Dazai finally says after a few moments of stunned silence. “This is distinctly less romantic.”

And you laugh. Unable to hold it back now, you burst into laughter—hands braced on his chest, body flush against his, there’s mud splattered across his face and you’re pretty sure your makeup must be running down your cheeks from the rain. You think that your heels are probably ruined and you’d have to spend hours getting the stains out of your dress, but you laugh because you can’t remember the last time you actually had fun and weren’t stressed about school and the future, and your night had been going so horribly that you’d lost any hope of it taking a turn for the better. You might’ve been crying a bit too, you aren’t sure why, but it’s raining so you hope that he doesn’t notice.

You notice Dazai’s eyebrows lift a bit in surprise before his face seems to soften, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lets his head fall back against the mud.

“So,” he says, “about that date?”

“Nobody believes I have a date for the event,” Dazai complains two weeks later as he enters your apartment and throws himself onto your couch, watching as you dab on some dark red lipstick—an occurrence you’d become quite used to the past two weeks, because evidently Dazai Osamu does not need a key nor invitation into your home, he just picks the lock and comes right in. At least you’re expecting him this time. “Atsushi-kun laughed in my face. He laughed in my face! Can you believe it? After everything I’ve done for him, the nerve.”

You grin, glancing up into your mirror to catch his eyes. “To be honest, I still don’t believe you have a date for the dinner and I am your date.”

Dazai blanches, throwing his arm over his face as he slumps into the couch. “Et tu, bella?” he sighs sorrowfully and you laugh, spinning around in your chair to face him.

“Think of it this way,” you say, twisting your lipstick back into its container and placing it into your purse. Dazai peek up from the couch, eyes focusing on you as you speak. You almost feel a bit flustered under his gaze, it’s more intense than you expected. “You’ll get to see the looks on their face when they realize that you do actually have a date.”

Dazai brightens a bit at your words and then, as if a sudden thought passed through his head, he begins cackling like a madman—although you’re beginning to think the description is far more apt than you believed, Dazai Osamu is simply not sane. “Kunikada-kun is going to be so mad that I have a date and he doesn’t.”

“You’re wrinkling your suit, sit up straight,” you say and turn your attention back to the mirror, discreetly watching as Dazai lets out an exaggerated sigh before doing as you ask. Your eyes linger on him for a moment—he looks different dressed up nicely in a sleek, dark suit than his typical tan trench coat. He still wears those odd bandages all over his body, but you suppose that’s just a him thing, and no fancy event would get him to take them off. You can’t quite place what the exact difference is but you find that your gaze keeps dragging back to him.

He catches you staring and winks, you roll your eyes and look away, grateful that your embarrassment doesn’t show on your face as you glance one last time at yourself in the mirror to ensure that nothing is out of place

Dazai, you have learned over the past two weeks, can’t stand silence, so you aren’t surprised when you hear him start complaining about something else as soon as the conversation dies down.

“Did you know I pushed two of my little protégés to work with each other?” he asks, reaching out to grab the papers on your coffee table when he thinks you aren’t looking. You throw one of your makeup brushes at him. He yelps and draws back his hand.

“That’s nice,” you say absently. “Do they work together well?”

“Oh, they work together great,” Dazai says, and you glance back at him when you notice the sheer bitterness in his tone. “I think they love each other now.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of why Dazai seems so irritated by this. “That’s… great, isn’t it?” you asked slowly.

“No!” Dazai says so vehemently that you think he might leap to his feet in outrage. “That is not great. They are not allowed to be in a relationship before me. I forbid it.”

Your lips part a bit, a noise caught between a laugh and shock escaping them as you look over at Dazai again. “Okay,” you say, dragging out the word in amusement. Dazai shoots an affronted expression toward you in response, but you don’t give him the chance to speak again. You rise to your feet and swing your purse over your shoulder, glancing at the time, realizing you had about fifteen minutes to be at the City Hall, which is a forty minute drive without traffic and it’s a Saturday evening, so there’s always traffic.

“Oh god, we have to-”

You turn to leave only to bump right into Dazai. Blinking in confusion, you look up at him to ask what he’s doing but the words die on your tongue.

He’s too close as he looks down at you, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and you can feel his body brushing yours, the corner of his lips twitching up. “Have I earned a kiss yet?” he hums, leaning his face down a bit so that his lips are almost barely grazing yours.

“Maybe,” you say, eyes flickering down to his lips for the sparest second before you watch his eyes light up only for you to take a step back, “but even if you did, you’re not messing up my makeup.”

Dazai looks as if he’d been shot in the heart, head dropping back as he groans and pouts at your words. “You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs, voice a long whine. “Won’t you indulge me with just a taste?”

“No,” you say, slipping past him to make your way over to the door where the keys to your car are hanging on a small hook. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

The exaggerated grief that paints Dazai’s expression instantly disappears as he eyes your keys with a look that’s nothing short of devious. Distantly, you frown and close your fist around your keys, putting them out of his sight, but Dazai is undeterred, walking over to you.

“I can drive us,” he says, that same expression on his face as he holds his hand out. You don’t trust the look on his face, nor do you trust the way he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s the least I can do, right?”

You’re doubtful, looking down at his extended hand as he waits for you to drop the keys in them. “I can drive,” you say, but Dazai immediately pouts at your words, looking genuinely bummed out, and you feel a little bad because you don’t even like driving, you just don’t trust Dazai to be a good driver. You hesitate. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“Of course,” Dazai says hurriedly, dark eyes lighting back up.

You exhale, reaching out to place your keys in his hand—the smile on his face is wicked, dread builds in your gut. You think you might have made a mistake.

You’re surprised that your car is still in one piece as Dazai parks crookedly across three spots in the parking lot of the city hall. You’re surprised that you are in one piece. You don’t move for a second, fingers still biting into the leather seat you’re buckled in, eyes wide and barely breathing. As Dazai turns the car off, you finally turn your head to the side to look at him before getting out of the car, grateful to be standing on solid ground.

“Never again.”

Dazai’s unbothered, as always—his smile is wide and restless, eyes exhilarated as they dart around the car, fingers clutching the keys as he finally steps outside. He looks as if he’d just won the lottery, that gleeful over having been given the chance to drive. You knew you should have gone with your gut when the man first asked if he could drive, and as miserable and anxiety-inducing it was racing through the streets, in between cars and half on the sidewalk, you think it might’ve been worth it, a bit, considering Dazai’s reaction.

“Maybe once more,” Dazai bargains, holding out his arm to you.

“Never again,” you repeat, but your voice is light as you take his arm and let him lead you up the steps to the city hall. “I cannot believe you didn’t get us pulled over.”

“Must not have been that bad then,” Dazai says, proudly.

“Ha! More like they didn’t want to risk their own lives trying to stop you.”

Dazai pouts terribly and then adds petulantly, “But it was fun.”

“It was something alright,” you agree idly. You aren’t sure if you were having fun in the moment, you were more scared for your life and your car, but you suppose looking back on it was a bit entertaining.

“You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs exaggeratedly. “You refuse my well-earned kiss, you mock me, now you insult my driving skills.”

“The only thing insulted tonight was my car,” you mutter to yourself, glancing back once more at it before Dazai steps forward to push open the wide doors to the city hall.

Instantly, you’re met with the sound of loud chatter and laughter and a young, unfamiliar voice calling, “Dazai-san!” excitedly.

Your gaze drifts up from Dazai to where a teen with silver hair and pretty eyes rushes up to the two of you. He’s so tunnel visioned on Dazai that he doesn’t even notice you until he’s standing right in front of you, and when he does, his eyes go so wide that you think they might pop right out of his skull. He looks between you and Dazai questioningly, lips parting and closing like a fish out of water.

Dazai looks like the cat that got the canary, eyes gleaming at the expression on Atsushi’s face and lips twitching up into a wicked smile.

“Atsushi-kuuuuun,” he drags out the boy's name in a long sing-song. “Meet my sweet belladonna, the one you so rudely claim didn’t exist.”

Atsushi looks flustered as he turns his attention toward you, eyes wide with panic and redness rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t-I mean-I just-” he stutters so badly that you’re forced to take mercy on the poor boy.

“Don’t worry,” you say with an easy grin. “I wouldn’t believe I existed either coming from Dazai.”

Dazai gapes. Atsushi snickers, hand coming up to cover his mouth to hide his smile. Atsushi glances once at Dazai and then looks back at you and whispers, “Is he paying you?”

Dazai looks thoroughly offended.

“Unfortunately, he doesn't need to,” you say with a snort, "but I'm sure he would if he had to."

Dazai gasps.

Atsushi snorts loudly and then looks a bit embarrassed. A woman with pretty eyes and short dark hair comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She throws a sharp grin at you. “You must be the infamous woman that Dazai has been talking about nonstop for two weeks,” she says, ignoring how Dazai looks like he wants to wither as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Blink twice if you need help.”

Dazai looks appalled now. “Yosano-sensei,” he complains, “That’s so-”

You pointedly blink twice. Yosano barks out a laugh and nearly chokes over it, Dazai gasps again, louder and far more dismayed. He slumps over your shoulder, burying his face into the top of your head.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he grumbles, voice muffled against your hair.

You pat his waist as another man approaches the group of you, blonde hair tied back neatly in a ponytail and glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. His eyes are sharp and narrowed as he looks at where Dazai is draping himself all over you. “Oi, you shitty waste of bandages, have some decorum, would you? We're at a government event, stop throwing yourself at people.”

Dazai perks up, that unscrupulous smile instantly returning as his gaze focuses on the blonde. “Kunikida-kuuun,” he now sings the other man’s name, arm slipping around your waist to tug you into his side as he says. “Come meet my date. She’s a grad student at Waseda University.”

You have a distinct feeling that he’s rubbing it in Kunikida’s face, and from the way the man’s expression twists in genuine surprise at Dazai’s words, you figure that said feeling is correct. Kunikida turns his attention toward you. “And you’re with him?” he asks so distastefully that you almost laugh. “How did you even meet him?”

You give Dazai a side-eye, considering whether or not you should tell the truth. You notice the pleading expression on his face and squint, but before you can make your decision, he speaks up, voice loud and exaggerated: “A fateful encounter under the moonlit shore of the Zushi Beach, we stumbled into each other as if guided by the hand of god himself. I-”

Suspicious now of the sideways explanation he’s giving about your own meeting with him, and recalling the tale he regaled you of his meeting with the very boy standing a few feet away from you, you cut off Dazai and turn to Atsushi. “Atsushi-kun, how did you and Dazai meet?”

Dazai flounders, hands flying in front of as if to wave Atsushi off from answering, but Atsushi only scowls and says, “I had to jump into the Tsurumi River to free him from where he was floating upside down in a barrel trying to drown himself. Then he had the nerve to yell at me for it.”

Pointedly, you look at Dazai, who at least has the decency to look sheepish as he glances at you. “I did take him out to dinner after though,” he offers.

“With my money,” Kunikida rages loudly and Dazai throws his head back with a loud sigh of complaint.

“None of you have my back. Not a single one of you,” Dazai accuses. “I would be a good wingman for you guys.”

Kunikida looks downright insulted. “You are the opposite of a wingman,” he spits. “In fact, you go out of your way to embarrass me in front of women, you lousy liar-”

“I will not have you make me look bad because you’re jealous any longer,” Dazai proclaims, holding his hand up as if to silence Kunikida.

“Jealous?” Kunikida booms after Dazai, but Dazai is already dragging you away, stealing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one over to you with a misleadingly innocent smile.

“It’s true, he’s jealous,” Dazai says, lacing his fingers into yours as he idly walks around the event hall with you, sipping at his champagne. “He has fifty-eight criteria for his ideal woman, you fit at least forty of them. He’s probably soooo mad you’re here with me.”

You blink and look at Dazai, wondering if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask with a laugh. “Fifty-eight-”

“Criteria, yeah,” Dazai confirms, “and he wonders why he can’t get a girlfriend—blames it on me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sure you don’t help.”

Dazai pouts but then his amusement fades a bit as his eyes scan the crowd of people, dark eyes taking upon an uncharacteristically serious visage. His lips tighten and the corner of his eyes wrinkle as he squints, as if something about the whole event is bothering him.

“You okay?” you ask and Dazai looks at you, a bit startled.

“Yeah,” he says, and you watch as he smooths his face out—as if you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to see and now he was trying to play it off and pretend you didn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You’ve noticed over the past two weeks, as you’ve gotten to know Dazai Osamu a bit better, that he’s far more complex than he likes to portray himself to be. He puts on a theatrical show with bright smiles, loud words and over-exaggerated clownlike behavior, and he’s very good at making sure that the mask he puts on rarely wavers. You’ve only caught it faltering a few times, including that first time you met when you’d woken up in the middle of the night and caught his empty expression as he stared out into the storm.

He doesn’t take well to people pointing it out though, you’ve realized. You tried to once a week ago when you caught him looking a bit lost and alone at a picture you had of you and two of your friends at a bar downtown. He’d broken into your apartment, as you’ve grown unfortunately used to over the past two weeks, and he was waiting for you to get back from class, snooping around while he waited. You weren’t supposed to be back until much later but your five o’clock class had been canceled, and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard you enter your apartment until you were a few feet away and asking if he was okay.

He promptly fled with a half-assed excuse about an urgent mission and he didn’t come back to your apartment for two days. When he finally did, he acted like nothing happened. You think that it’s not really your right to push and you don’t want to step over any boundary of his, but a part of you is starting to long to figure out what exactly is behind the mask he wears and that scares you. You find yourself smiling a bit too much whenever Dazai is around, your face always feels a bit hotter and your brain always feels a bit fuzzy—the tell-tale signs of falling are starting to appear and you want to know the man behind the carefully constructed mask before you start to fall only to realize that there’s no one there to catch you.

“You looked a bit lost in thought,” you finally say, testing the words on your tongue and scanning his face to see if even that would be too much of a push for him.

It is.

“You see right through me, don’t you?” He laughs it off as a joke, but you can all but taste the bitterness in his tone and you can see the mirth thinly veiled behind his eyes. “I’ll be right back, the boss is calling me over.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for you to respond, he tosses you a wink and another casual smile before he sets off across the room but you aren’t fooled by the faux-charm this time, knowing that he’s fleeing because you got a bit too close to asking something that he doesn’t want to answer. Lifting your champagne glass back to your lips, you idly watch him make his way over to a handsome, silver-haired man who’s in deep discussion with a young man with messy black hair.

You sigh and wave over a server to grab another flute of champagne before you even finish the one in hand, disappointment sweeping through you as you realize that the night is likely going to be a very, very long one.

You’re finishing your fourth glass when you hear someone call your last name and pause a bit in confusion, turning around to face a tall middle-aged man with graying hair. Your eyes widen a bit as you recognize Tonan Tanzo, the Vice Minister of Justice, making his way toward you with a glass of wine in hand.

“Tonan-san,” you greet, nodding your head a bit in respect for the older man, who you spoke to briefly at the Ministry’s panel at your university a week and a half ago. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you,” the man replies distantly, more a nicety than anything else. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You’re acquainted with the Armed Detective Agency?”

There’s an edge to his voice, one that you’re not sure if you like. You wonder if he has an issue with the Agency, but you don’t see why he would, they’ve been nothing but helpful in fostering peace in the city.

You only smile idly. “Vaguely,” you respond, not giving away all too much. You wonder if Dazai knows anything about whatever the man’s issue is—you’d have to ask him later.

Tonan hums, as if your answer wasn’t satisfactory, and then he says, “I was meaning to email you about the internship you were hoping for under Minister Hasegawa—all of the chaos of the past week has prevented me from doing so. I’ll be sure to do so by the end of this week so we can work to finalize something for winter break and the summer. Perhaps we can figure something out with your schedule to get you some training at the office before the semester ends.”

Your lips part a bit in shock at the suddenness of the offer but you school your expression quickly, mind racing as you force out, “I would appreciate that very much, Tonan-san. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Tonan Tanzo only hums again, nodding at you once before his eyes flicker up above you, a bit distastefully, just as you feel fingers brush your lower back. Tonan doesn’t even bother to greet Dazai as he turns to leave with a faint parting to you. You look up at Dazai, whose expression is cold as he stares after Tonan until the man disappears down a nearby hall.

“What was that about?” Dazai asks, the cold expression melting as soon as he looks down at you, dark eyes warm and curious as if he hadn’t just abandoned you for almost an hour. You almost feel a bit flustered beneath the gentle stare. Almost.

“I think he just offered me the job I was trying to get at the Ministry?” you say, still a bit dazed. “Although, I don’t think it’s necessarily because he wants me there, but it doesn’t really matter, I just need it for my resume.”

“Hm,” Dazai says to himself before his lips flicker up into a smile. “Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose. Good thing I grabbed us some more champagne.”

He lifts his other hand pointedly, showing off the two flutes he’d grabbed on the way back and you grin a bit, taking one from him, feeling a bit giddy now even though you’re pretty sure Tonan only hit you with the offer because of your affiliation with the Armed Detective Agency.

“You should probably slow down,” you note as you sip your own glass. “You’re on like seven now.”

“I’m fine, and you have no room to talk,” Dazai shoots you a playful smile. “Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, eyes widening as Dazai takes the glass from you before you even take a second sip, placing it down on a nearby table with his as he grabs your arm and drags you to the center of the room, onto a dancefloor that nobody is using. “Dazai, no.”

“Dazai, yes,” he corrects with a wild grin and your face is aflame as eyes begin to turn in the direction of the two of you, curious as to what’s going on.

You want to die when Dazai forcibly spins you under his arm, much like that night out on the streets of Yokohama when the two of you ended up drenched and muddy except now there were dozens of eyes on you whereas then, people were more focused on trying to get to cover from the torrential downpour.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, embarrassment flooding through you because for as thin as Dazai is, he’s deceptively strong and you cannot break free of the grip he has on your hand and waist.

“Please,” he breathes out longingly. “A death at your hands would-”

“Stop.”

Dazai pouts, and then as if punishment for interrupting him, Dazai launches you into a dramatic dip, leaning down with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat’s to shame as he nudges his nose against yours before pulling you back up and spinning you beneath his arm again.

“This is embarrassing,” you say, but Dazai is paying no mind to the attention that the two of you are gaining—in fact, he looks utterly pleased with himself. “I-”

“Look! Yosano-sensei and Atsushi-kun are joining us!” Dazai cheers, turning the two of you just enough so that you can catch sight of Yosano physically dragging a protesting Atsushi out onto the near-empty dance floor.

“Yosano-sensei, please, I’ve never danced before,” Atsushi pleads, tugging his wrist away from the older woman but her grip is iron clad as she tugs the boy toward her, taking the lead in a wide ballroom dance.

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai sings. “Don’t look so nervous.”

Atsushi shoots Dazai a withering look, clearly blaming him for the unfortunate turn of events, and you relax a bit as you realize that Yosano pulling Atsushi onto the dance floor triggered a wave of several others: a dark-haired girl dragging an orange-haired boy onto the floor, the president of the Agency holding a hand out to a young girl who keeps shooting longing looks in the direction of the people dancing, a few older couples.

“See, everyone was just too nervous to be the first,” Dazai preens, tugging you close as he shifts from a wide and theatrical ballroom dance to a slower and more intimate one.

Your breath catches as he wraps an arm around your waist, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your lower back as his hand flattens. His other hand slips from where it’s intertwined with your to join his right on your waist. You’re so close to him that you can smell the faint scent of champagne on his breath as you loop your arms around his neck with a small smile.

Dazai’s dark eyes are glittering as he looks down at you, warm as melted honey and soft as velvet, you’re almost entranced. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile—you think you want to kiss him, and you swallow nervously as soon as the thought crosses your mind. You also think he might be able to read your mind, because his smile becomes a bit more mischievous as he leans down.

He doesn’t kiss you, but you think he might as well from how close he is to you—you swear that his lips are all but brushing yours. You feel a bit dizzy, and although there are enough people swaying and spinning around the two of you that you don’t really have to worry about any attention being on the two of you, you still feel a bit flustered by the thought of so many possibly seeing this.

“Now, do I get my kiss?” he whispers, and your lips part to respond but no words leave them. You think that’s dangerous because you definitely should not kiss him right now but your brain will not cooperate in formulating the words. Dazai lets out a small puff of laughter, his breath is warm against your lips and you want to kiss him even more—dangerous, you think again. “Fine, fine, I’ll wait just a bit longer.”

He doesn’t back away though and your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat as he hums along quietly to the music playing, swaying back and forth with you tucked neatly in your arms. You think this is far too intimate for two people who aren’t even technically dating (you won’t admit that you’d been questioning it earlier with how often he frequents your apartment and his casual intimacy with you and felt a bit embarrassed when he made his comment about his proteges being in a relationship before him), and you think you should probably back away, but instead you find your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

There’s something indecipherable in his eyes—conflicted and confused, but with a far heavier emotion thinly veiled behind it, something caught between longing and adoration but with a hint of melancholy. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you figure that now’s not the time and he’ll probably just blow you off in the same way he did before.

So instead, you just give him a small smile and watch as his dark eyes widen a fraction at the action—you wonder if he realized that you noticed that something’s up with him and more importantly, you wonder if you weren’t supposed to notice. With bated breath, you wait to see whether or not he’s going to close off.

Around the two of you, the President lifts his arm to let the young girl spin beneath it, Atsushi is still letting out panicked protests as he and Yosano sweep across the dancefloor, an older couple laughs loudly as the man dips her and the teenage girl with dark hair is giggling as she takes the lead in the dance with the orange-haired boy.

Dazai doesn’t react for what feels like an eternity.

But then he smiles—it’s light and soft around the edges, matching your own, and though that indecipherable look is still in his eyes, maybe even more wistful now, you can’t help but notice that his shoulders feel much less tense beneath your arms.

You consider it a win.

Dazai thinks that he might be in trouble.

His gaze lingers on you as you make your way across the room in the direction of where Atsushi and Kyouka are talking. Atsushi had waved you over after everyone finally made their way off of the dance floor, Dazai’s a bit insulted because Atsushi and Kyouka both made it abundantly clear that they only wanted you to join them, which Dazai thinks is quite rude but what does he know?

And Dazai’s heart is racing, his cheeks feel warm, his lips are tingling, and he wants to blame it on the alcohol but he knows deep down that the alcohol is not the issue, you are.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The thought rings through his head as he watches you walk away, eyes tracing your figure while an emotion that borders on longing wreaks havoc on his heart. His throat feels clogged with it, his lungs feel as if they’re filled with ash. You make it to Atsushi and Kyouka and Atsushi is immediately talking, animated and excited.

He thinks you look beautiful—you’re wearing a red dress and it clings as if it was made perfectly for you even though he’s pretty sure it’s a dress you’d found on Uniqlo’s clearance racks, he remembers you raving about your luck with it last week, and as you look over your shoulder in his direction, your eyes glitter as brightly as the rhinestones sitting on your collarbone, teeth gleaming as you smile at whatever Atsushi is saying to you. Dazai doesn’t dare to ponder what his protege could possibly be telling you to make you look at him like that, he doubts it’s anything good, but he finds that he doesn’t even really care because he thinks that he’d sacrifice all of his pride and dignity if it means you’d continue to smile like that in his direction.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It was meant to be a little fun once he realized that you were just a civilian with no connection to the underground—a distraction, a way to gloat a bit to Kunikida because of course Dazai can pull a girl that fits almost every single one of the man’s ideals while Kunikida himself can hardly dream of it. He convinced himself that he was playing a long game by spending every waking second outside of work at your apartment, wooing you so that he could get a kick out of Kunikida’s inevitable explosion. He convinced himself that the fluttering in his chest whenever you laughed at him was just some strange heart palpitations that have arisen as a chronic consequence of one of his attempts, paying no mind to the fact that it only happens when he’s with you. He convinced himself that his face is warm whenever he’s around you because of the weather even when the temperature chills and the wind is bitter.

But it’s hard to convince himself now—his lips tingle from where they’d just barely been brushing yours, there are goosebumps on his skin where your fingers had once been, and the image of your smile is branded behind his eyelids, the gentleness of it and the understanding. And he thinks it’s ridiculous honestly, because he doesn’t think that there’s anyone left in the world that could possibly understand him, but since that first day he met you, you’ve seemed to be able to see through him in a way that few people have ever been able to, going out of your way to try to make him feel more comfortable in a way that no one ever has.

When did he start to…

He can’t even finish the thought because acknowledging it means that it’s real and if it’s real, then Dazai is in trouble because Dazai is not a man who is capable of love anymore—or maybe he still is capable of love, or something close to it at least, what he feels for the members of the Agency proves that at least, but he’s not a man who’s capable of being loved.

Not for who he is.

Even if you do fall for the facade he puts up—the smiling jester who laughs and jokes and never lets anyone close enough to realize that the only thing within him is a black hole that consumes anything and everything he touches—you’ll realize one day that the man you fell for is a fraud and you’d leave. Dazai has been left behind once, in a way that was so excruciating that it’d almost entirely killed off Dazai’s withered heart, and he’s decided that he’ll never be the one left behind again. He’ll run before people can leave him, and he’ll keep everyone else at arm’s length. He’s probably wrong anyway; he doesn’t care for you, not like that, the line between obsession and love has always been dangerously blurry for him. He-

“Atsushi’s taken to her pretty fast, don’t you think?”

Dazai starts at the sudden sound of Yosano coming to stand next to him, a half-empty glass of wine in hand. There’s a lazy smile on her face as she watches where you, Atsushi and Kyouka are all chatting—well, you and Atsushi, mostly, but Kyouka seems enraptured in whatever conversation the two of you are having.

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees, and his voice is a bit more rough than he meant for it to be. He pointedly takes another long swig of his drink. “That’s a first.”

“Isn’t it?” Yosano laughs loudly, drawing some attention to the pair. “A good sign, he’s got pretty good instincts.”

Yosano nudges his shoulder playfully but Dazai can hardly gather the energy to mask the sudden and unwelcome sorrow weighing on him. He manages, if only scarcely, but it’s unconvincing if the way Yosano’s brows furrowed has anything to say about it.

He speaks before she can question it in an attempt to distract her from her concerns. “She’s quite the catch, I know. My sweet bella, if only she would join me in a double suicide, I don’t think I could even dream up a better way to go.”

Yosano only waves off his comment, and Dazai knows that she’s right—maybe it’s his tiger senses or maybe it’s just his intuition, but Atsushi usually has a good eye for good people. His lack of reservation around you, when he was even reserved around the Agency at first, is certainly a nice sign, even if it is partly because he’s had a few glasses of champagne. But Dazai also just can’t find it in him to be pleased over it because yeah, it confirms that you’re a good person but Dazai, no matter how hard he tries to be, is not one and he’s not sure if anything will ever change that.

The thickness in his throat returns, his eyes flutter shut momentarily as he tries to regain some semblance of control over himself.

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze instinctively is drawn back toward you and-

Oh, Dazai thinks, his breath catching and lips instinctively turning up as he watches you start to giggle and lean into Kyouka, who must have finally joined the conversation, while looking over at him. There’s a hazy look in your eyes, courtesy of the constant stream of champagne Dazai has been supplying you with all night, but you can’t seem to draw your eyes off of Dazai and Dazai can’t seem to draw his from you.

Yosano nudges his shoulder again to try to get his attention but Dazai can’t look away from you so he hums as if to tell her that she has his attention—if only partly.

“Enjoy it, Dazai,” Yosano says quietly and Dazai finally glances over to her, catching the oddly coherent look in what should’ve been drunken, glazed over eyes. “Don’t sabotage this for yourself. Enjoy it.”

Dazai thinks maybe he was wrong about you being one of few to be able to see right through him. Maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks he is—or maybe it’s just his shared connection to Yosano through Mori that has her able to read him so easily. He avoids Yosano’s gaze as he looks back out into the crowds. Naturally, he finds himself seeking you out again, and you’re already looking at him. There’s a soft expression on your face as you admire him, not having realized he’d caught you staring yet, and you look as if you’re barely listening to what Atsushi is saying, and Dazai’s heart seizes because no one has ever looked at him that way before.

Well, he decides, maybe Yosano is right. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once you realize that the front he shows you is just a mask to hide the rotting carcass that lies beneath, you’ll turn tail and run, and then everything can go back to normal again. He just can’t let himself get more attached than he already is—that way it won’t hurt when you leave.

Dazai catches his lips turning up as he watches you start giggling at something Atsushi and Kyouka say, Dazai’s heart does that damning flutter again, and immediately, he averts his gaze.

Still, he thinks, he’s far too sober for this.

Later in the night, when people have begun to say their goodbyes and you start to make your way to the restrooms to freshen up before heading out, Dazai corners you against the wall of the hall leading out of the event venue. You don’t even hear him following you or notice his presence until you feel his fingers snatch your wrist as he yanks you back toward him.

Your eyes widen but you’re able to bite back the yelp that nearly escapes your lips when you recognize his dark eyes looking down at you, mischievous and glittering beneath the soft lights.

“Do I get my kiss now?” Dazai breathes out. The wall behind you is cool against your back, and you can hear the chatter from the event down the hall as the event begins to come to an end. You part your lips to respond to him, with what? You aren’t entirely sure, but it doesn’t seem to matter because no words leave your lips regardless. “The party’s over, no need to worry about messing up that pretty makeup now, bella.”

“Only one,” you finally say, voice a bit more throaty than you would have liked but it’s hard to concentrate with Dazai’s fingers grazing your hips and his body brushing yours. You wonder if the man has ever learned about the concept of personal space—you severely doubt it. “Make it good, and maybe you can have a second.”

The smile on Dazai’s lips is nothing short of sinful as he brings one hand up to cup the side of your neck, thumb running along your jawline and fingers entangling with your hair. He doesn’t waste a second as he dips his head down to press his lips against yours, they’re warm and soft, and taste distinctly like the champagne that had been served earlier in the night. You let out a quiet noise of surprise against his lips, eyes fluttering shut.

The kiss is tamer than you expected it to be—he makes no move to deepen it, lips moving slowly and gently against yours as if he’s hesitant to take it any further, but Dazai Osamu has never been hesitant about anything in all of the times you've encountered him. Your hands rest on his forearms as he keeps you pressed up against the wall, unconcerned with the fact that all of his coworkers and many government officials are naught but half a hallway away.

You think to yourself, a bit embarrassed, that you might be able to spend an eternity kissing Dazai Osamu and never grow tired of it, and you wonder why it's taken you so long just to give in to his request from nearly a month ago.

You aren’t sure if ten seconds, ten minutes or ten hours have passed by the time he finally separates his lips from yours. He doesn’t move far away at all—his nose still nudging yours, his soft lips still brushing your own, he leaves no space at all between the two of you as he asks: “Good enough for a second?”

Your lips curve up into a smile, eyes meeting his dark ones as you look up at him through your lashes. Though, you have half a mind to agree, your previous thoughts still ringing through your head, you can't help the teasing words that spilled from your lips: “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll sleep on it and let you know my answer the next time we see each other.”

The laugh that Dazai lets out is breathless.

“Deal.”

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

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circeyoru · 2 months

Text

Unwanted Soul _ Part 5 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 (here)

How you had such a depressing life was beyond Alastor. He didn’t understand it. Can’t comprehend it! But he pushed these questions back to tend to your sadden mood, tucking you in and lulling you to sleep

Alastor sat next to your sleeping form, the room pitch black save for his glowing red eyes that pierced through the darkness. His staff played soft music to calm you down and fill the silence of the room. The only tears you should be shredding are ones of joy and happiness

The people you’ve mentioned, surely they were in Hell as well. They can’t be in Heaven for causing you such torment. He can’t let you see them, any of them. He needs to get to them first. However, for now, he can’t leave you alone in such a state

His eyes closed as he thought out how he’d torture them. Perhaps skinning them till they beg for mercy and your forgiveness? Pulling out their limbs and draining their blood? Letting the cannibals partake in a feast? No, no, he had to enjoy this. They were your tormentors when you were alive, he’ll show you that he can and will be your protector, even a guarddog if he must

But his heinous thoughts were put to a hold when you shifted in your sleep. He pushed away his thoughts while he watched your serene form rest. He put away his monocle, laying beside you and gently pull you closer to him so he was hugging you to his chest. His eyes drooped close. Perhaps he should let those unfortunate souls enjoy Hell a bit longer. If they crossed his path or yours, their voice will be on his everlasting broadcast

When things got slow for you, you found yourself hanging out with the hotel residents at times. They were an interesting bunch to say the least

Charlie was always happy to see you and would invite you on her little activities and exercises to redeem sinners. Though you’d mostly decline unless it catches your interest in some way. On the rare chance you join, she was very appreciative of your presence and wasn’t shy to thank you for joining in front of everyone. Her cheerful attitude was a bit of a hit and miss for you

There was one exercise that got you sharing something you’ve almost forgot

“Okay! Last two to share! Who’s going first?” Charlie beamed

“I’ll go first, My Darling needs all the time to recall!” Alastor directed the attention to him. “My joy in my hay day is my murders. Oh how I felt the rush when chasing my victims, hunting them like prey in the woods. The warmth of their body fading the moment I repeated stabbed my trusty blade into their weak bodies. The—”

“Okay, okay, you can shut it with the creepy killing. Sheesh.” Vaggie interrupted with a groan. She turned to you who was still in a daze, completely unfazed with what Alastor said. “You ready to go?”

“Huh? Oh, okay.” You snapped out of your daydream, unconsciously, your hand patted on your book that was strapped to your hip. “My joy when I was alive… I barely remember it, but I loved going to the library and read all the books I can.”

“That’s surprisingly cute considering you’re with that freaky smil—” Angel’s mouth was immediately shut with the slap of Alastor’s staff

You continued without flinching, this was all a normal banter between the two already now that you were hanging out with the crew more. “I frequent the library, borrowing and finishing a stack of books everyday. The librarian would recommend me new books or save me my favourite corner. I can even eat and drink in the library just because.”

Charlie’s head tilted, “So you love reading.”

“Not just reading. I love books of all kinds. Sometimes I rad that book just cause I liked the texture or the shape of it. I collect books and keep it like treasures. I hate lending books to other because they don’t care for it like I do.” You fondly smiled at the memory, “Then I got a bunch of notebooks too, because I love the design or the cover.”

Lucifer leaned back into his chair, “No wonder your powers are centered around books.”

“Better call you bookworm now! Hahahaa—” Angel was hit by two cranes, one from Alastor and another from Lucifer. Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk flinched with a face twisted to pain as if they felt that. Niffty was living in the moment, wanting one too

Husk gulped some alcohol, “You better shut that loud mouth of yours if you know what’s good for you.”

Everyone laughed and chuckled, Charlie concluding that it was a good exercise and bonding time since everyone was in attendance. Alastor got up and offered you his hand, bringing you two back to your room. You stayed out of it, being in a daze again

When Alastor asked if you were fine, you smiled and said you were fine, if you needed anything, he would be the first you’d call for. So he left you alone

You didn’t tell them. You were that absorbed into reading that you didn’t realize you were being bullied, you were used. You shared your dream of wanting to be a writer that people would love to read what you wrote and share it with friends, to entertain others. You shared your ideas with your friend but your ideas were stolen from you

The moment you handed in your writing, the publishing company said they had one already and that yours was not up-to-date. They rejected your writing. Days later, you saw the newest novel on sell. The title was so similar to yours that you checked the summary at the back. That was your story idea. But your work was rejected so how was it published?

Your nightmare came to life. A betrayal so painful and chilling. Your friend’s name was on the cover. You remember your hands shaking. It wasn’t rage you felt, it was disbelief and sadness. The trust you gave, the care you gave, and the attention you gave. It was all to stab you in the back

You watched from behind the screens at the achievement and success that should have been yours. All of it, it should have been yours to smile upon. But then you were crying and shutting yourself behind the world of fantasy, an escape from reality

Why? Why? Why!

Closing your eyes for a moment, you locked up those memories. They don’t mean much to you now. Not when you had Alastor with you and an unlikely friendship with Lucifer the King of Hell himself, then there was the silly demons of this hotel. Ironic how you found true friends in demons

That’s why when you saw Mimzy again in the hotel, you were skeptical and burning with rage. She had someone as amazing and caring as Alastor to call as a friend, but she’s abusing it without a care. How she has the guts to come back and ask for Alastor, you have no idea, though you’ve seen her kind when you were alive

“You’re a new soul!” Mimzy’s voice made you want to throw glass or grip something until it broke. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“What do you want?” You eyed down at Mimzy with a bored expression

She let out a sound akin to ‘uww’ with a face of disgust. “You’re never gonna get your lucky someone with that attitude.”

Your eye twitched, “I never said I was.”

Mimzy gave you a fake shocked look, “Really? I thought you were going for Alastor!”

You groaned, heading over to the bar to ask Husk for something to drink (not alcohol) because you didn’t want this annoyance to follow you to your room

“Hey,” Mimzy sat next to you without asking, “You know what Alastor’s like when he’s upstairs?”

You ignored her, but your face of silent rage was enough to get her to continue

“You don’t know. He’s a realy lady’s killer! Not literally, but you get what I mean. Girls and ladies throw themselves at him and he doesn’t even bat them an eye. A nice wave and a dashing smile, then he leaves them high and dry! Oh, the broken hearts he had was definitely more than his body count and that’s something!” Mimzy laughed at the end

What’s that got to do with you? You thought to yourself as you aggressive sipped on your drink. Husk eyed you two while cleaning some glass to appear like he was busy. You’ll maybe admit, you were a bit envious of Mimzy that she got to see Alastor when he was alive, you wonder how he looked. Not like you were going to ask

Mimzy endlessly talked bad about Alastor behind his back. What happened to trying to apologise and wanting to make up? No idea, down the drain at this point. As the others around you wonder why you were still humouring the chatty demon, you were wondering the same. Why are you just sitting here and listening to all this?

“You should shut it, can’t you see you’re the only one talking here?” Husk spoke up, indirectly telling Mimzy to just leave you alone

“Aww, and you should do your job, bar cat.” Mimzy teased back. “I’m given this poor soul some attention cause Alastor’s too high of a standard to give some.”

“Ha! Jokes on you. This hot stu— I mean, cutie here’s always got smile’s attention.” Angel inserted himself into the conversation, climbing over the bar to stand next to Husk

You got up, “This is a waste of time.”

Mimzy faked another gasp, “No way. You poor poor thing. You actually fell for him of all people of this hellhole?” She got so close in your face and not to mention your personal space, “I understand why, but! Ha! That’s just bad luck! You’re bound to get your heart broken like all those poor ladies before you.”

Before you said anything, Husk’s wing separated Mimzy from you, “You really need to shut the hell up before you regret it.”

“You shut it fur ball! I ain’t talkin’ to you.” Mimzy snapped at Husk

Deciding that it was not worth your time, you started walking away. This was drama you didn’t want to be involved in and you didn’t want Alastor catching this happening since he sees Mimzy as a friend still

“The hotel won’t allow this.” Charlie tried to establish order and break things off

“Alastor will leave you in the dirt worse than whatever you were before once he’s had his fun with you! You might think you’re on cloud 9 now, but you’re going to be in a world of pain and hurt soon enough.” Mimzy continued, completely ignoring Charlie and Husk’s words

With each step you took, she continued as if singing a song, “Alastor only like things that entertains him. He never commits. He never cares. He doesn’t even have a heart to care! He’s so powerful because he has no room for ridicious things like love. The love he has is only for himself. Alastor is just a selfish heartless motherf—”

“Shut up!” You turned to her, a deep scowl on your face

“This is gonna be good.” Lucifer whispered to the others watching, “But bad for her. Yeah.”

“Shut you annoying f- mouth.” You snapped, unaware that your hair leviated a bit from your rage. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have a friend like Alastor. Alive and dead. But what do you do? You use Alastor’s name just for the fun of it and for your benefit. You just use it! How can you use your friendship with him like this! What’s wrong with your stupid tiny head?! In Hell, you’re supposed to treasure what you have. Not abuse it.”

Mimzy scoffed, “You think you’re so good? So righteous. Well, you would have been up there, now wouldn’t you. Don’t think you’re any better.” She smirked, “In Hell, we use everything and anything to our advantage.” Another gasp came and she covered her mouth, “Oh wait, could it be?” She got close to you, “Haha, you being so defensive and triggered by all this. You really actually did fall for him.”

“I love him.”

“Wait? Couldn’t hear you, sugar—”

“I love Alastor.” You repeated firmly and loudly

“What was that?”

Getting annoyed, you turned to the direction where the question came from. Perhaps it was all this anger in your system that made you slow to realize, “I said,” That you were now face to face with Alastor. “I love you!”

Note: This part's major focus has been mentioned in an ask already. And since it's confirmed that you and Alastor are dating in the latest asks and requests, I'm putting this scene in more detail since asks are trivia for the story

P.S. There's something new planned for future chapters~ Remember that lover and friend mentioned? OCs might be appearing cause I can't do rando short forms. Still thinking... You're thoughts? Or should I just end this series?

Circe Y.

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#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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ikeuverse · 24 days

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SLOW DOWN — s.jaeyun

PAIRING: illegal!jake x fem!reader GENRES: angst, smut, fluff WC: 2.8k+

WARNINGS: swearing, weapons, knives, blood, illegal things in general (drugs, racing, alcohol). smut will be added in the next chapters, physical and verbal fights.

NOTES: i was listening to the song by chase atlantic, which is the title of this fic, and this scenario with jake just popped into my head. i wrote this part as a taste of what's probably to come. i hope to continue writing it, but first, i want to know what you, my readers, think of it since it's something i like to write about (mafia and all) and with jake being my utt i honestly felt my mind expand. tell me if i should continue or just delete it, please. i hope you like it!

CHAPTERS: prologue | chapter one | [...]

TAGLIST: i've never done this, but lmk if you want to be tagged — mentions in the first chapter (already in the link above)

masterlist

a synopsis (too long to be a synopsis) below the cut. read it and tell me what you think, please. or just an idea, idk if i'll go through with it

The smooth taste of the cherry liqueur you were drinking was enough to relax your whole body. Smiling slightly at your best friend Chloe, chatting about trivial things in life. She was the one person in your cycle who made everything seem a little more normal.

Chloe was responsible for making you forget that you were part of a mafia family and that everything around you was linked to guns, blood, illegal things, and dirty money. She disconnected you from that world where you were there out of obligation.

"We need to go out sometime" Chloe finished off the liquor in her glass, lifting her body to pick up the bottle and refill it "How about the new nightclub that opened in the next town?"

You thanked your friend when she also wanted to refill her glass, letting the liquor run halfway down and then drinking a little more.

"I guess we could do that" you replied, thinking of ways to try to convince your father not to send a bouncer for you and her. It was unnecessary, but it was also a wasted conversation knowing that he would only let the two of you go out on that condition.

Luckily, your best friend had already gotten used to it, not least because living with you since elementary school had brought her all this knowledge little by little. You were immensely grateful that she didn't abandon you once she knew the whole truth, which is why Chloe has remained your best friend to this day.

"Then we can go to a convenience store and get some ice cream to try while we're still drunk."

The genuine laughter you two shared was the fuel you needed whenever something was heavy in the house. You had to call Chloe if only to stay in your room, in the office assigned to you, or anywhere in the house after hearing men walking around, your father fighting with someone or running around which – unfortunately – you witnessed every time.

It was exhausting. You also knew that there was no point in trying to run away or asking your father to disown you. He wouldn't be able to do you any harm, but he would probably keep you isolated, trapped in some lake house he had as a hiding place, and get you out when you thought better of it. If you could think about living a normal life or continuing your family's mafia.

"Knock, knock" the sound of the door knocking combined with the voice that imitated it brought you out of your thoughts and straight to where you needed to be.

Heeseung's smile was infectious, you always smiled when you saw your best friend. But not when he walked in with his head down wherever you were, his clothes covered in blood and his hands behind his back.

"What the fuck happened now?" you sighed loudly enough, dropping your glass of liquor on the coffee table between you and Chloe.

"Hi to you too, y/n" he finally raised his head, smiling at you again after looking away to his best friend "Hi, babe."

"Heeseung" Chloe raised her glass as a silent toast, ignoring the fact that the nickname she knew was only meant to annoy her. You'd make fun of the two of them if it weren't for your best friend's current situation.

"Where does all this blood come from?" you stood up from your chair "What the fuck have you all done now?"

Hesseung wiped the remnants of blood from his hands on his T-shirt, sighing in the process as he thought about what to say to you.

He was nervous. Lee Heeseung was visibly nervous and you knew that was almost impossible to happen. Come on, the guy in front of you who you called your best friend was one of your father's best illegal racing drivers, he'd been through so much shit on the track, how could talking to you be so bad? That only happened when...

"We need your help" he said at last, biting his lower lip to stop himself from shaking in the process. The boy's eyes searched for yours and, as soon as they were found, he let out "Jake's hurt..."

You froze at that moment, completely shutting out Heeseung's voice as he passed on the information. Chloe noticed, so she listened carefully in case you asked her later what had happened.

Jake's name together with the hurt, adding the blood that was on Heeseung... It all came together in one way and made you follow him wherever your best friend was going.

It was these moments that pulled you back into the life you had, reminding you that your family was part of the mafia and that you, consequently, were part of it too. The most obvious condition your father found to keep you in the business was that you did something that could link you to the surname for the rest of your life. Not as a bastard, because he wouldn't let you walk away easily.

So the only way was to get a degree in nursing, study medicine, and anything else that involved taking care of the wounds of the men who worked for your father. If you were constantly injured, shot, stabbed, or anything too suspicious, the hospital would surely call the police, and a big interrogation would begin. Your father wanted to avoid all this, so getting you involved at least on the good side made you feel less bad about it.

"Finally" Sunoo almost shouted with happiness as you turned the corner of the corridor behind Heeseung, along with Chloe by your side who kept an eye out in case you fainted from being so nervous.

They all looked the same as Heeseung, which made you wonder if Jake had lost a lot of blood or if it had gotten really bad.

"What happened?" you asked again.

"We went to accompany some of your father's men" Jay was the only one sitting down, his elbows resting on his knees. Taking his head between his hands, which were the same as Heeseung's, he looked at you "They set up an ambush, we had to defend ourselves."

You hung up again while Jay continued talking, relaying events to Chloe, who seemed almost like your private secretary.

Your eyes searched for Heeseung and he just nodded at you, then nodded towards the door opposite where Jay was sitting. That's where Jake was. And that's where your father kept a private infirmary, which you affectionately called his workroom.

Opening the door, two of your father's men were standing next to the gurney where Jake's body lay. You didn't look too far in his direction and just approached the sink to tie up your hair and sanitize your hands. Without realizing how much you were shaking at the thought of the worst, especially with Jake.

Why did you feel that way just hearing his name?

Get over it. Forget it.

The voice screamed in your mind as you turned to walk to the stretcher and join the men.

"Jake, dude" Heeseung called "She's here."

A brief moment of silence before Jake's eyes opened, looking at each of the men until they stopped on you. A faint smile on his dry, opaque lips, his eyes squinted.

"My private doctor" he forced a laugh, groaning in pain and placing his hand on his abdomen.

That's when you realized, the blood was coming from there. A cut that tore through Jake's T-shirt, piercing the skin. You couldn't tell how serious the problem was because it all looked like a big mess.

"Let's leave you two alone" Heeseung rested one hand on the side of Jake's head "Don't scare us anymore, your motherfucker" he slapped his friend on the back, turning to you "We'll be at the end of the corridor if you need anything."

You couldn't answer, only nod as Heeseung took the other two with him, leaving you and Jake alone in your room.

"I..." you sighed, closing your eyes and pushing away any thoughts as you went back to looking at the wound in front of you "I need you to take off your shirt, I have to clean it."

Without looking Jake in the eye, you grabbed his hands to help him sit up enough to take off his shirt. Turning to get the products you needed to use and clean it, would give Jake time to remove the shirt that was getting in the way of the whole process.

He, for his part, felt every discomfort and pain coursing through his body as he moved his arm to take off the shirt that had already been lost the moment they tore the material with that knife. That damn knife that had left him like that.

Throwing the shirt anywhere on the floor, Jake sat waiting for you to turn towards him and, as soon as you did, he could see your shocked expression.

"What?" he looked at his own body, then looked in your direction "It's nothing you haven't already seen, touched, kissed..."

"Shut up, Jaeyun!" you wanted to convince yourself that all the burning in your face was from anger at the words you were hearing, and not because you felt embarrassed about it. Why did he have to talk such nonsense?

You didn't have to ask him to lie down, Jake got the message as soon as you got near the stretcher with the absorbent cotton and saline solution. He inhaled a good amount of air and held his breath while you cleaned his wound. It didn't sting like the other times, but he could feel his skin burning with the touch of your fingers on it.

Jake could have sworn he'd burn up if you continued with all that delicacy on him.

"It wasn't deep" your voice caused him to let out a breath, groaning in pain as a little pressure was applied to a spot on the wound "I'd venture to say you moved away quickly enough before plunged the knife into your abdomen."

"You know I'm fast, don't you?" Jake was a fucking idiot with his double entendres, you knew it was pure provocation "Why did I bleed so much?"

Thank God he changed the subject, or you'd have opened that cut yourself.

"Because it cut through the epidermis, it just missed the dermis. That would have been a bit worse and I don't think I'd have brought you here."

"I'm glad they did" for the first time since Jake and you were alone in that room, you could hear the sincerity in his voice. Something that rarely happened.

Your eyes went up from the cut to Jake's face, seeing that he was already staring at you. Without saying much, you concentrated on making the dressing as comfortable as possible so that he could feel more comfortable as he left the room.

As you wrapped the bandages around his torso, his voice echoed in your mind like a relentless demon. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen, touched, kissed... Enjoyed every time he found himself in your room. In your bed.

The thought of a time when you and Jake were together was the last thing you wanted to think about. It had been a long time and that couldn't be part of your thoughts, even if it was sabotage because every day, all the time you looked at him, your mind wandered to the exact moment you two kissed for the first time.

Or how he held you for the first time and every touch on your skin made you boil.

"Thinking of me?" his voice was so vivid that you had forgotten you were still in his presence, with your hands resting on Jake's chest and the bandage already finished.

Sniffling, you straightened up and turned away from him, gathering up the remnants of the things you'd used so you could throw them in the garbage can.

He said nothing, getting up from the stretcher with some difficulty while still looking at you.

It was a lose-lose situation to do that, but Jake simply couldn't let the opportunity he was having slip away. So he walked towards you slowly, as best he could because he could still feel the wound pulling at his abdomen. He got close enough as soon as you turned to face him, a thin scream bursting from your lips from the fright, but soon calming down when you found his eyes resting fixedly on yours.

"Y/n" he whispered.

"Jaeyun, don't..."

"Listen to me, please" the request sounded more like a plea, and you lost count of how many times Jake did it, but he could never finish because you always ran away.

And you wanted to run away again.

"What do you want?" you asked, almost regretting it when he answered, unashamedly.

"You back to me."

He had to be a talker. Jake needed to have that idiotic power over you with anything he said. It was extremely unfair that someone had been born and put into your life just to leave you speechless and steal your heart.

Your sigh was a silent answer that he could come a little closer, and with slow steps, Jake did. Just enough so that he could lean his body against yours only as far as his bruise didn't make contact.

Jake's hand quickly reached for your cheek, forming a shell between it and your face to hold close enough to his.

"Please, I need you back" Jake leaned his forehead against yours, his warm breath beating against your cheek.

Your hands were trembling as one of them touched his arm, while the other went carefully to the opposite side where Jake was hurt. The touches kept his balance and kept him close too.

"Then answer me" your voice was at the same pitch as his, avoiding any louder sounds that might scatter the two of you.

Jake knew what you meant, he was fully aware of it. He'd been asked that question so many times, that's why he knew he wasn't in your life as your boyfriend.

"Y/n, you know I can't..." he began.

"Me or these dangerously idiotic missions of my father's?"

Jake closed his eyes, pressing his forehead a little closer to yours.

"Y/n..."

"You can choose to race with Heeseung, stay in tech with Niki" your voice began to choke and Jake felt that it was hurting more than the cut on his abdomen. He knew it was all his fault.

"But it gives me a lot more money, and..." he sighed, looking straight into your eyes "You know what I'm putting any money towards. Please..."

"Is it money? For God's sake, Jaeyun, I can help you..."

"No!" Jake said sternly, but not rude enough to scare you. He'd never managed to be rude to you since he first met you "I can't accept it. That's my problem and—"

"I thought your problems were mine too."

That phrase was strangely familiar. Jake knew he'd heard it somewhere before, he just couldn't think where when you turned away from him at the same second as the knocks on the living room door were heard. Making you both step back.

"Mr. Jaeyun? Miss y/n?" one of your father's security guards had his head between the doors, looking in your direction. You waved so that he could enter "The rest of the guys are waiting for news, if you could…"

"Of course" you smiled at him, thanking him not only for the information but for the interruption because you knew that another argument was probably on the way "Come on, we need to go."

"Y/n, I—"

"The guys need an update from you" without going any further, you turned away from Jake and waited for him to get ready to leave the room.

You knew it was bad to do this anyway, but there was no escaping it. Being tied up with your family's affairs meant moments like this, but they weren't all bad. Taking care of the people who worked for your family was just a way of saying thank you for them – unfortunately – risking their lives.

But when it came to Sim Jaeyun, you knew that everything was intense. Even more so as the whole story of the two of you played through your mind like a movie on repeat.

All the times you and he had been together, all the moments the two of you had shared until the final fight.

Which Jake was trying, at all costs, to reverse. Because it was as he had told you a few minutes ago, he wanted you back. You just didn't know what Jake was capable of.

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johnnie-guilberts-eyeliner · 4 months

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Johnnie Guilbert NSFW Alphabet

(first time writing, lmk how I did and pls pls pls request some more for johnnie guilbert if you enjoyed because i think hes insanely under appreciated and deserves more written for him)

A=Aftercare (what they're like after)

Definitely big into after care and does whatever he can to take care of you after

B=Body part (Their favorite body part of their partners+their own)

Partner-thighs, they're plushy and he loves squeezing them and loves the way they look when they are wrapped around his head

Theirs-Hands, he loves what he can do with them and he loves how they look around your neck

C=Cum(Anything to do with cum)

He prefers finishing inside to avoid mess but would ultimately do whatever you wanted.

D=Dirty secret(Self explanatory)

He definitely gets off to pictures of you when you're not w him and he's feeling frisky (or if he's js to shy to tell you)

E=Experience(How experienced are they?)

not really at all, except for giving head.

F=Favorite Position(Self explanatory)

Cowgirl-He dies a little bit every time you ride him, he seriously can't get enough of it. Or any position where he can touch you while making eye contact with you

G=Goofy(Are they more goofy or serious during the act?)

Definitely depends on what you're comfortable with but will most likely be the type to make a joke or two and then be really serious after that yk

H=Hair(How well groomed? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Doesn't really need to do much since he's a natural blonde but will maybe trim it up if he feels like it. Doesn't care if you have any, he agrees that if hair wasn't supposed to grow there, then it wouldn't.

I=Intimacy(How are they during? Romantic aspect ofc)

He is the touchiest mf there is. Loooooooves to touch and see his hands all over you and more verbal than you'd think

J=Jack off (Random Masturbation Headcannon)

As stated before, he definitely Jacks off to you when you aren't around and he's feeling rather frisky so maybe like 3-4 times a week at the most

K=Kink(1 or more of their kinks)

Switch-loves seeing you on top and in control but will take the reigns every now and then

Marking-Loooooves to see bite marks and hickies and such all over you and loves it more when you leave them on him

Hair pulling-loves when you tug on his hair while he fucks you/eats you out

L=Location (Favorite place to do the deed)

Prefers the bed but will eventually escalate to the shower or maybe even the couch when no one is home 😈

M=Motivation(What turns them on? What gets them going?)

Literally anything you do could get him going because he's so infatuated by you, and I think he may be a bit sexually frustrated 💀 but loves skirts, lacy lingerie and fishnets specifically

N=No(something off limits)

Anything that could hurt you or him

O=Oral(Giving and receiving preference, skill. Etc)

is a GOD at giving head. About the only thing he's really experienced with and IT SHOWS. Does like recieving but poor baby would be too shy to ask so you'll have to offer

P=Pace(Are they made rough/fast or slow/sensual or other)

Anything you prefer because he doesn't wanna hurt you or make you uncomfortable

Q=Quickie(Their opinion on quickies)

Doesn't care for them much at all, he likes to take his time and cherish the moment

R=Risk(Do they experiment? Do they take risks?)

Will experiment within his boundaries and your own

S=Stamina(How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

Can last about 3-4 rounds before he needs a minute, if you're not satisfied don't you worry because he'll give you so much head to make up for it

T=Toys(Do they own/use toys on their partner or themselves?)

Doesn't own them for himself but would be down to try them if you brought it to his attention

U=Unfair(How much do they like to tease?)

He doesn't start the teasing often because he's too shy but will do it back if you start teasing him

V=Volume(How loud they are, What they sound like)

Quite shameless when it comes to this intimate time with you, doesn't care who hears

W=Wild card (Random NSFW headcannon)

He secretly loves to fuck you until he can see your eyes rolling into the back of your head and loves fucking your mouth/throat but will only do so if you ask him to

X=Xray(size of his- basically)

6 inches soft and abt 8.5 inches hard

Y=Yearning(How high is their sex drive?)

Higher now bc of you

Z=ZZZ (How quick they fall asleep after?)

Prefers to cuddle after sex and loves falling asleep like that, he'll fall asleep after he knows your asleep

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert headcannon #i love johnnie guilbert sm hes so underrated

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spideyhexx · 2 months

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all of my ideas tonight include stitching up wounds after fights. so now im just thinking about taking care of billy after a fight. and you’re speaking to him in such a soft, soothing voice. and you two keep making eye contact. and after you’re done stitching up a cut on his temple he just mumbles a small “thank you, darlin’” and OHHHHHHHH…….. THE ROMANTIC TENSION IM CRUMBLING

I LOVE IT (and you, hugs) I AM ALSO gonna write this for my saccharine series CAUSE I HAVE TO

for more, saccharine

fyi, you don’t need to read the other parts of this series to enjoy this🫶

fem!reader

Billy comes into the camp his gang had set up for the next few weeks, stumbling, his nose bloodied, his knuckles red, the cut on his temple making him wince.

His eyes are squinting, and he almost rubs his bloody hands into his eyes, but he stops himself. No one seems to be awake until his eyes lock with you.

Once all the men were asleep, you took the opportunity to bathe in your lonesome. It was nice and relaxing to finally scrub some of the grime from your skin and the sweat from the day. Your head felt heavy with sleep already. You were walking to your little tent when you locked eyes with Billy.

Your heart drops at the sight of him, and a burst of energy flows through you as you drop your dirty clothes and run over to him.

"Bonney, what did you do? What happened?! You're bleedin' still, what did you-"

"Sweetheart," he stops you from talking, his voice low, gravelly almost. You forgo the blush that rushes to your cheeks when he uses that name. He usually only did when he was mocking you or playing your game back at you, but now his eyes looked dazed, out of it. You nod your head a few times, almost like you can't stop it.

"Okay, okay, uh, c'mon," and you take his arm, dragging him more into the camp and sitting him down on the log near the burnt-out firewood.

He sits down with a grunt, his mouth parting to say something to you, but you're running off before he can even speak. Billy sighs at it, shaking his head, but all it does is make him wince in pain again.

You come back with some supplies, your canteen falling out of your arms to his feet, but luckily not spilling the water as you rush.

"Easy, sweetheart," he says, his voice is so soft, it's unnatural to you, but you can't even take the time to appreciate it. Billy is both annoyed and thankful you're up. Annoyed because of course it's you that is still awake. Thankful because he knows you care. And care enough.

Despite his words, it's hard for you to slow down. You clean his hands first, at least the knuckles, kneeling on the ground in front of him, your brow furrowing at the sight of them. "These are gonna bruise a lot," you mumble more to yourself than him, but he still replies.

"'M aware." You glance up at him, and Billy's eyes look blank, tired. Your own soften and as you clean the remainder of his hands, you try to be gentler, dipping your rag into the water and cleaning the blood.

He keeps still, but his fingers twitch when you get to one of his fingers. Once you finish cleaning it, on instinct, you lean down and kiss his knuckle, your lips more ghosting over his skin than a firmer kiss. Billy's breath hitches slightly, but he doesn't comment on it, almost too stunned that you actually kissed him. Kissed a part of him.

"There, those are all clean," you say, mustering up a smile as you grab a new rag and start cleaning the blood on his face. His eyes bore into you and it makes your heart stop.

"You have an eye contact problem," you murmur, your face inching closer to his, but only to clean his nose better. Only for that reason.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping in sarcasm and it quirks your lips up a little. You will yourself to look into his eyes, the same dazed look present in his.

"What happened?" You don't want to pester him about how he ended up like this, though your impulsivity tells you to. So you promise yourself that you'll only ask him this one time. Deep down, you felt as though you knew his answer would be vague, or he'd stay silent, so you prepared for it, to accept it and move on.

"Bar fight. This guy was pickin' on me. He started it," Billy replies after a moment, and he takes a deep breath. You feel his jaw clench slightly as your cleaning continues, but you still. He actually answered your question.

"Somethin' wrong?" He searches your eyes, your expressions are always pretty easy to read, but he doesn't have the full capacity to ponder right now.

"No," you tell him, taking a deep breath of your own before continuing. You're almost done, but you can't seem to take your eyes off of his. You've never had to tend to him like this before. You've thought about it, those times after hearing how he got a bloody nose or a nasty cut, but never did you think it would happen. Or that Billy would let you. Maybe he was softening up on you. Or maybe he doesn't care, he just needed help. You'll overthink it later before bed.

When you're done, you're about to stand when he grabs onto your wrist, turning his head slightly and you see the cut on his temple.

"Billy....shit," you say, moving to inspect the cut, holding his head in your hands and he feels his cheeks warm. He prays you don't notice.

You do. You rifle through your bag and sit with him, cleaning the cut the best you can before you attempt to stitch it. He winces, his hand jutting and grabbing your knee, making you both still.

"Sorry," he mumbles, retracting his hand and you shake your head.

"Squeeze it if you need to. 'M a strong girl." You get a slight, breathy chuckle out of him. It satisfies most of your nerves as his hand returns to your knee. You work again, stitching his cut and he sucks in a breath, "'s okay, you're doin' good, Billy."

His heart wants to twist and turn at the sound of your voice, so soft, so soothing. "Almost done, then you can go rest," you coo at him, his hand squeezing your knee tighter. He swallows hard, breathing through as you finish, giving him your smile.

He doesn't return it, but instead looks at you, piercing his gaze into your eyes without really meaning to. Your smile starts to drop a little at how intense his look is, your hands settling into your lap. Your mouth parts to speak, but you stop when he pats your knee.

"Thank you, darlin'," he breathes out, his gratitude different from the sarcasm he used earlier. His eyes almost looked teary in the moonlight but there was no way in hell you would mention it.

"Any time," you whisper, hesitantly putting your hand over his, patting the top of his hand. You've never felt this genuine with Billy and you longed for it to last. But you find yourself nervous, too anxious to move closer to him even though your body is aching for it. You swear that you see his eyes flit to your lips, but you determine it was your imagination. Your dreams getting in the way of reality.

Billy doesn't know how to handle himself either, but he knows that he likes his hand on your knee. That he likes your hand on his. Not that he'd say that.

When his head shifts in the slightest of movements, your senses kick back in and you take your hand away from his.

"You know, you're real dumb for gettin' in a fight while all alone? Or gettin' in a fight at all," you jab at him, resorting to your teasing to cover up the sensitivity of what occurred.

He rolls his eyes, but his stomach is fluttering from how quickly you jump to this side of yourself. "You're one to talk, sweetheart, didn't you fight that-"

"Don't turn this on me, Bonney, at least I walked away unscathed," you interrupt him and he turns more to face you.

"No, you didn't. You had that cut on your lip," he argues back, but a slight smile makes its way to his lips.

"No, I didn't." He was right, and you had forgotten in the moment that you did get hurt a little, but you didn't feel like giving in to him.

"Yes, you did, sweetheart. You were complainin' about it. For days," he counters, glancing down at his knuckles, before returning his gaze to you. To your lips. But only for a second.

The eye-roll and scoff you give him before you speak makes him smirk a little more, and he knows he won't be resting just yet.

#billy the kid #saccharine #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid smut #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x you #william h bonney smut #william h bonney imagine #william bonney x you #william bonney x reader #william bonney #william bonney smut #billy the kid fanfiction #billy bonney #billy bonney x reader

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imaslutforwritingshit · 8 months

Text

Edward Cullen Imagine (XF!READER)

PART TWO

Warnings- smut, p in v, cunnilingus, faint jealousy (Jacob), passionate (lovey) sex

P.S I’ve actually never made smut where the characters actually loved each other😭 it’s mostly just desire. So this is actually kinda well written , just a foreword to the poetic shit she says.

Read PART ONE here ;)

I didn’t understand what he meant when he said that. I didn’t understand, until his cold fingers snakes down the bones of my hips, and he covered me with his strong body, like the crevices in my pelvic bone were made solely for his hands.

“You,” Edward strained, his voice gravely, unlike the normal smooth charisma he embodied. As he spoke in my ear, he pushed my shorts down with his thumbs, the cheeky underwear I had picked out this morning on a whim now on full display to him.

When Edward let his fingers graze the shape of my ass, his hand wavered on my skin, like every movement was delicate- and yet something he couldn’t contain. “You are making me lose myself. The way you sound, look, smell,” Edward inhaled sharply, grinding his hard cock across the sheer fabric of my underwear. The feeling sent shivers and tingles down the nerves of my stomach.

I wanted more. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I wanted this. His voice was amplifying my desire for him, each rough syllable a new jolt of electricity through my body.

Edward groaned as my panties rose up, his dick deeper in the planes of my ass. I could practically feel the veins of his body sliding on the skin of my ass cheeks.

He finished his sentence in a husky tone, each word getting harder for him to speak. “You make me want to do horrible things, Calypso. I want to be selfish with you. To you.” The lowness of his voice, if I didn’t know him as my boyfriend, would be straight up deadly- and terrifying.

My heart melted at the thought of Edward getting what he wanted, a strange mixture of lustful hormones and admiration for the words. Everything Edward has always been was good, and gentleman-like, and selfless.

So, yeah. I want him to be selfish. I want him to have what he wants, just for this evening.

I arched my back, pressing my entire ass against his erection. “I need you to be selfish, Edward. I want to see you lose control.”

Edward stopped moving for a second, breathing heavily over my body. I could feel his cock twitching on my underwear, and I bucked my hips backwards, urging him to keep going. He stopped my movement with a rough push on my hips, bringing my entire body to the cushion.

“Callie, Callie. I will never lose control.” he felt my body up, each grope electrifying my senses. “I desire ruining you. My body begs to. The amount of times I fantasized of killing you when I met you…You drive me insane, beautiful.” He paused, and I could almost feel a smile on his face. “But I’m not a dog. I wouldn’t eat you alive the first chance I get, for my own filthy benefit.” Edward bit his lip, tilting his head in a dangerously playful motion. “Unless, of course, you would prefer that. Canines?”

Realization dawned on me. Jacob. He was mocking me about Jacob. Where was this coming from?

“Edward, I don’t care about him. I want you.”

Edward draped his head by mine, the graceful stands of his hair falling on my cheek. “I don’t know why you enjoy that so much, Calypso. The thought of being weak. Under Jacob’s ruthless control.”

The words were true, but still irritating. I could only assume this fire of emotion was coming from his episode of lust, but my body was getting too many mixed emotions to understand how to feel about it.

Edward thumbed my panties now, sliding the strings down in a slow, taunting manner. “I know that animal would love to see you like that. Begging.” He snarled quietly at that, and took a quick breath as my underwear slid off my ass. “To see you asking him, pleading him to take control from you.”

I whimpered, a strange thrill coming from the anger in his voice. He was jealous- because he wanted me.

Maybe I’m sick for that having fueled my desire more.

But then again, maybe I’m sick for loving a vampire.

He kissed my shoulder blade, a soft contrast to the hardness of his words. “I’ve thought about tasting you for a long time.”

My blood.

A strange, unusual spike of fear entered my heart.

This was Edward. But he’s different now- fueled by emotions, unpredictable.

Is he gonna hurt me?

Edward kissed the small of my back, dragging his hands to my waist.

“I’ve thought about tasting you, Calypso. I just never said how.”

Edward grabbed my side, rolling me to be on my back. I stared at his eyes, animalistic and wild, blending in with the dark of the forest behind him.

“Spread your legs, my dove.”

My heart was pounding so fast, I could feel the pulse all over my body. Specifically throbbing in the area between my thighs, which I spread out per his orders.

Edward sucked in a breath in his teeth, the fangs in his mouth sticking out in a predatory manner. Only staring at my naked body, like the very sight was granting him vitality. He didn’t drop his frighteningly focused stare, and instead leaned over me, kissing my thighs. Each touch was tipping me over, teasing me in a painful way.

I remember what Edward had told me a month ago.

“So the lion fell in love with the lamb.”

I was indeed, a stupid lamb.

He grazed the skin below my stomach with his lips, tracing the lines of my hips with a trail of burning kisses. I was practically rocking my hips, a silent beg for more.

Edward pushed his cold, comforting hands on my hips again, forcing me down.

God, I could live in this moment forever.

This is my life now. He is my life now. I can’t see anything farther than this.

This is my past, my present, my future all encapsulated in one small, fleeting moment.

Edward stared at me, with intense, hot eyes, dragging on my breasts, my hips, and the slow trail to my clit. It would embarrass me- the heavy eye contact, with anyone else.

But Edward’s not like anyone else.

So I kept my gaze on him, as he kept his eyes on me, and let his warm tongue heat the area between my folds. I shivered from his godlike touch, unable to tear my eyes from the beautiful scene of his mouth on my body. He grasped my thighs harder, tracing circles with the perfect pressure on my clit.

As if he couldn’t control the quick movement, he snaked his tongue down to my wet opening, rolling movements inside of me. I mewled, gripping the sheets with white knuckles. My toes were already curling from the very idea of him touching me like this.

Edward bite down a little harder on the top of my pussy, licking my body like I was his last meal. Every touch was strategic, but am I surprised? He had 104 years of experience.

Orgasm was rising to my surface too quickly. I grabbed his hair, increasing the screaming thoughts of my mind, hoping he’ll understand. But the desire took over him- and he began flicking his wet tongue more, causing me to jerk my head backwards, clasping my thighs over his head.

“Please, Edward.” My gasps were filling the empty space, all of his movements sickeningly perfect.

He let go of me, the warm tongue exiting my folds, and I clenched my thighs together harder as he kneeled over me, his breath ragged and heavy. His lips were sleek with my fluid, and I felt my ears go red.

He was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing to exist. He watched me, so intense that I could cower from his breathtaking gaze. Edward pulled his shirt over his head, the pale, shimmering color of his skin mesmerizing me.

The sun was out. Fading over the large pine trees of Forks- as if the universe had some perfectly divine idea of the first connection of our bodies.

His eyes were light brown in the sunlight, the lines of his abs sparkling in the warm orange of the sun.

“I’m crazy about you.” My confession was soft, so soft I wasn’t sure he heard it.

Edward slowly shook his head, but all I could focus on was the color of his eyes. It was the only thing tethering me from heaven.

He was a fallen angel, looking at me like I was the cure to his sin.

“Calypso. You are my destruction.” His breath quickened, his lean chest rising and falling with the pace of my own.

Edward’s mouth met mine one more time, one more soft, passionate time. I grazed my fingers over the muscles of his back, memorizing every part of this moment. Solidifying it in my nimble, mortal mind.

He let the tip of his dick slide on my wet pussy, staring at me with lustful eyes, eyes waiting for confirmation.

I nodded, biting my lip in preparation.

Edward let his thick shaft slide in my cunt, and I yelped, clenching his thick shoulders.

It hurt. His dick was so big, I was hardly prepared for it. But Edward, with the last remaining piece of willpower he had, slowed his movements, his hard body meeting the spongey, untouched area inside of me.

He hissed, dropping his body on mine, and he grazed his fingers through my hair, each thrust getting more powerful.

With that, I realized something.

Edward is a vampire.

A vampire with exceeding amounts of supernatural strength, and… stamina.

He showed no signs of reaching climax as he warmed my body with his cock, each stroke inside of me causing pleasure to shoot to my stomach.

I could faintly hear my reaction- unreal, loud moans that I assume the deers of the forest could hear. I mewled as he slowed down, pushing his forearms into the cushion. Edward let out a soft groan, stroking my face with his thumb. He repositioned his position, pushing his dick back in, and reaching new lengths of pleasure in my insides. I moaned, shamelessly, letting my fingers dig into his back.

The warm ball of nerves were heating at my core, a sign that I was reaching climax. Edward’s mouth dropped to my collarbones, sucking sharp hickeys as he thrusted inside of me, each movement rolling my eyes back.

I whimpered, stammering from the euphoria shaking my legs. “I’m-close…”

Edward moaned, a sound so beautiful I could’ve just watched him now, an artist and a masterpiece. He ground his hips to mine, hissing with the feeling of his body completely in mine. I let my hands fall over my head, closing my eyes to try to preserve the orgasm rising in my gut.

“No.” Edward’s voice was strained, the softness of his movements gone. Each thrust inside of me was hard, rough, matching his untainted desire. “Don’t close your eyes. I need to see you.”

I need to see you.

How could I love someone so much it hurt?

I opened my eyes weakly, meeting the heavy lidded, black pits of Edward’s. His abs clenched as he pushed inside of me, his hips bucking with a renounced speed. I gasped at the feeling of his dick hitting my cervix, trying to focus on his face, overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Please,” I begged one more time, the need for my climax forcing my legs to shake on his.

Edward managed a smile, and dropped his body again, fully covering mine. He rocked into me, and I whimpered in his ear, letting my hands drop over his neck.

Nothing has ever felt this good. Nothing will ever feel this good.

Edward groaned, the thrusts getting so hard it began to hurt again, with a strange, overwhelming pleasure that came with the pain.

“Callie…” His voice was soft for the jerk of his hips, a warm sensation rolling over my body.

“Edward!” I squirmed, peak taking over my nerves.

“I know, love.” Edward’s breaths were fast in my ear, the jerk of his hips creating the sounds of skin slapping throughout the room. He let a heavy groan slip from his lips, and I felt the leak of precum making the inside of my pussy even more liquid.

“I’m going to-” Edward’s voice was nothing more then a raspy groan in my ear.

“Please, please!” I whimpered again, clenching my legs around his abdomen to avoid the painful desire of climax. He had edged me on for so long, I don’t think I could’ve waited anymore.

Edward’s movements turned hard, fast, a ripple of sensation arousing my body again. He growled, our skin smacking together with new volume, and orgasm blinded my vision, making me roll my eyes back, and arch my back until my clit touched the root of his cock. I screamed, scraping my nails on his back until I could’ve been sure there was blood.

Edward didn’t protest; in fact, he thrust harder with that, each movement causing him to heave breaths, the warm air hitting my ear. He moaned, a vibration in the mess of my hair, and quickly pulled his warm, wet body from my own, shooting strings of hot white on the base of my stomach, dripping down my sensitive cunt.

Edward rolled off of me slowly, collapsing on the small couch, both of our bodies reeling the affects of the tiresome fuck. I attempted to catch my breath, feeling my heart beating so fast I couldn’t hear the birds chirping anymore. Hesitantly, I turned my body to meet his, but Edward was already staring at me, the warmth of his expression a relief to me. He bit his lip, his chest rising the similar pattern mine was.

I processed everything, opening my mouth to speak, but not understanding how to phrase it.

“Edward?”

He smiled, the soft, mesmerizing action in my peripheral. “Yes?” The melody of his voice still left me catching my breath.

I couldn’t say the words. They rung in my mind, an untamable message dancing through my heart.

Three words.

I love you.

Edward let his eyes fall on mine, hearing the silent plea of my mind.

“I love you too, Callie.” His mouth was parted, and his lips were red from before, and he read my mind and read those words. I couldn’t help it when I draped over his body, kissing him like it was the first time all over again.

He snaked his arms over my bare body, his smooth knuckles tickling my spine. His lips draped over mine as if we were two puzzle pieces, separated for too long, and now here, and alive, and in love.

I loved Edward Cullen. I had the very first day I met him. And even if I die a mortal, holding the hand of the boy who will exist forever, I know I’ll live until the day he ceases to.

I’ll live in Edward’s heart,

And he’ll live in mine.

Because that’s what love is, right? A taste of forever.

And we were forever.

Okay that’s it byeeee

I am super open to constructive criticism and feedback, as well as recs. Thanks for reading ! :> <333

#edward x reader #edward cullen x oc #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen smut #smut #twilight fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight saga #twilight x reader #twilight smut #breaking dawn #twilight eclipse #new moon

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strangersteddierthings · 8 months

Text

Shovel Talk(s) Final Part

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Steve starts with Dustin. Not for any particular reason. Dustin is just the first person he ends up seeing after an entire weekend spent at Eddie's house. They'd redone their date in Indy on Saturday, getting back into Hawkins late, so Steve stayed the night. He had a morning shift at Family Video but it was Robin's day off so he didn't see her.

Dustin called at 11:00am on Monday to ask for Steve's assistance with his bike's flat tire. He needs a ride to Melvald's for a new tire tube and pump, and since Steve's shift doesn't start until 2:00pm he agrees.

Steve picks him up and listens to him ramble about his weekend and how he the tube got a hole in it. He stays in the car while Dustin runs inside to make his purchases, and then they're back at Dustin's house. Dustin knows how to change out the tube on his bike; he's been raised by a single mother for longer than Steve's known him so he's pretty self-sufficient, but Steve still offers to do it and Dustin lets him.

It's little moments like these that really let Steve feel like Dustin's brother. Which is what makes it easier for Steve to say, as he is peeling the tube from inside the tire out, "hey, do you remember a week or so ago, when you said we were happy for Eddie and me?"

"Yeah," Dustin says as he's ripping open the package the new tube is in.

"You also told me to not hurt him. I- why'd you say that?" Steve halts his progress on peeling the tube out to look up at Dustin.

He watches as Dustin turns sheepish, "I. Well, mostly I said it so that when I talk to Eddie, I might feel less bad about threatening him."

"What? Why did you threaten him?"

Dustin finishes freeing the new tube from its prison before finally looking back at Steve, "I haven't yet. Mike was talking about how Nancy gave you a shovel talk a while ago, as Eddie's 'best friend'," he makes air quotes around the words, "and I'm your best friend, so I have to give Eddie one. But Eddie's also my friend, so I had to say something to you, too."

"That's so-" Steve cuts off, because he was going to say that's so childish but Dustin should be allowed to be childish just a little longer. Part of his childhood was stolen by monsters and Steve can give him a little bit back, "that's a nice thought but please don't shovel talk Eddie. Besides, Erica beat you to it."

"Shit!"

"Language."

"Well, since Erica did it there's really no point in me doing it. She's terrifying when she wants to be."

Steve laughs because Erica can be terrifying. "Give me the tube, or do you want to finish this?"

"No, continue," Dustin thrusts the tube at Steve, who takes it with a grin and gets back to work.

Robin and he are closing on a Wednesday night, so it's been slow all day, and while Steve wants to talk to Robin, he doesn't want to be interrupted. So, they go about their shift like normal and it's only once he's locked the door and flipped the open sign to closed that he seeks out Robin in the back room, where she's counting down the till.

"Can you pause after that? I need to talk," Steve says and feels his stomach churn. He's never.... he and Robin have never had a fight, never really had any issues that required a talk. Not about anything between them anyway. Robin's always just understood him, in the same way he's understood Robin. They've never been the source of each other's pains until now.

"Yeah, of course," Robin finished the coins, marking down the amounts on a piece of paper before shifting to give Steve her full attention. "Are you ready to talk about it?"

"It?"

"Whatever's hurting you," she says. "I don't know what it is, but I knew you'd come to me when you were ready."

"It's been heard to try and talk about," Steve confesses, "because it's never. It was never you that I've been- I still don't know what to say but I know I don't want to be..." he trails off, waving his hands as he grapples for the words he wants.

"Oh," Robin whispers, standing from the desk to approach. "I hurt you. Tell me what I did, so I can properly apologize."

"When you told me to be careful with Eddie," Steve says, "after I told you about our first date. I don't understand why you'd say that me."

Robin looks pained and swallows before she says, "I'm so sorry, Steve. I shouldn't have said that. And I don't- I don't even have a good reason why I did. I know you'd never hurt Eddie. I know you and what I said wasn't even about you. Not the real you, anyway."

"So, why'd you say it, then?"

Robin frowns and looks away from him, shuffling her feet before she says to a point at the wall, "I was friends, or friendly, with a lot of the girls you were with in high school. A lot of one and done dates that I had to hear about, while they cried in the bathroom or on their bedroom floors, wondering what they'd done wrong, why you didn't stay or-" Steve winces as the reminder of who he'd been in high school comes easily out of Robin, but not for the usual reason he winces. It's not because Robin's reminding him he used to be a douche; she's reminding him of all the people he hurt and never cared that he'd done it. He never apologized, and now it's far too late even if all those girls deserve to hear it.

Robin is still speaking, "or whatever. But that doesn't matter now. You aren't that guy anymore; haven't been the entire time I've actually known you and it wasn't fair for me to say what I said. I just- you took Eddie out, and the part of me that spent years of high school consoling friends who felt used by you just spoke. I-I need to work on filtering the words that come out of my mouth, because if I'd waited like, four more seconds to process your words and settle in the fact you went on a date we both thought you'd never be brave enough to ask for, then I never would have said it. I'm so sorry, Steve. I know you and I should have known better."

Steve swallows thickly, because it hurt to hear but he also knows she's sorry and that's enough. He steps forward and sweeps her into a hug, crushing her against him. She squeezes back just as hard.

Steve has never felt really hurt about Wayne's shovel talk. It was the first, and the only one he'd say he deserved. Not because Steve deserved to have a shovel talk given to him, but because Wayne should get to have the honor of giving one. Eddie's never had a boyfriend before, and Wayne had spent so long worried about how this town would treat Eddie if they knew he was gay.

So, when Steve sees Wayne again, he just smiles at the man, and gets a genuine smile back. He and Wayne are ok.

He and Jeff apologize to each other next time they cross paths on a Hellfire night. Steve apologizes for being snappy and rude. Jeff apologizes for automatically assuming the worst of Steve. They agree to a truce and a start over.

Steve's convinced he can win over Eddie's friends eventually.

Steve can't talk to Nancy. There's too much left unsaid between them for him to feel comfortable with telling her she hurt him. But it's okay. He and Nancy aren't close friends, and she's leaving for Boston in a few weeks for college. He's sure that the distance, and not seeing her weekly for Lunch Date Day, will help.

So, he's a bit surprised to answer the knocking on his front door to see Nancy. It's an exact recreation of the day she shovel talked him and immediately Steve tenses.

"Uh, hi," he says.

Nancy takes a deep breath and says, "I'm sorry. I thought I was being funny when I gave you that shovel talk, but I- someone made it clear to me that we aren't friends enough to be able to make jokes like that. That's my fault, too. For everything I've done and never apologized for. So, I want to say that I'm sorry."

Steve's a little stumped, a bit perplexed even, so he speaks on autopilot, "It's fine, Nance. We're good."

Nancy squares her jaw and narrows her eyes and says, "no."

"No?"

"No. Don't forgive me. Not yet. Make me earn it."

Steve don't respond right away. He wants to just forgive Nancy, but when he thinks about it, he just wants to do that so Nancy will quit looking so defensive. He's not sure he does forgive her. "You're right. I- we'll work on that, then. Being friends one day."

"Good. Good," Nancy nods. "I'll see you are Lunch Date day, yeah? Or... or would you like me to stop coming?"

He shakes his head. "No, please keep coming. There's, what, three more before you're off to college? We can work towards friends in that time, yeah?"

"Yeah," Nancy gives him a small smile, "see you then, Steve."

"See you," Steve replies and shuts the door as she heads down the walkway back towards her car.

He wants to know if Eddie or Robin gave her the dressing down that brought her here to say sorry.

(It wasn't Robin or Eddie. It was Mike, learning what Nancy had done and telling her it wasn't her place to do that.)

There is one final shovel talk for the remainder of their relationship.

It's the final day in Steve's room at his parents house. He's moving in with Eddie and Wayne, at least until the kid's all graduate. Then he and Eddie might go off somewhere on their own.

He's finished packing up his things from the bathroom, and looks up in the mirror. He sees himself, and almost doesn't recognize the reflection staring back. He looks happy. Actually, really happy.

Eddie appears behind him in the mirror, leaning himself against the doorjam, smiling softly at Steve through the mirror.

"All done, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, babe," Steve says. "Just one more thing."

"Oh?"

Steve slides his eyes away from Eddie in the mirror, back to himself. He lifts a finger and points one accusingly finger at himself and says, "if you fuck this up, Harrington, I'll kick your ass myself."

Eddie's full belly laughter rings loudly in the bathroom and Steve just smiles.

#shovel talk(s)#steddie #my fic #SURPRISE! Bet ya didnt think id ever finish this fic #but neither did i so here we are‚ surprised together #i was talkin' with the besties about this and fell asleep thinking about it and decided i needed to finish it or it will haunt me forever #sometimes an apology doesnt need to be an apology. sometimes the explanation is enough #sometimes you need to apologize for a thing you said even if the reason you said it has solid logic behind it #and sometimes you just need to admit you were wrong and say sorry with no explanation

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luvonmes-blog · 8 months

Text

slow

just, slow down.

warnings/labels - MDNI!!, decided to switch the narrative of a guy actually taking women into consideration (omg!! men who care😱) and decided gojo needs a lil love aka, reader takes gojo into consideration, fem! reader, fluffy smut, pnv, pwp, lil bit of nipple play (i wholeheartedly believe gojo has sensitive nipples, fight the wall), gojos in love, reader shows him how to love (fuck) her.

authors note - you know when people post and say “this was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away” i always questioned if they were serious or not but now?? i understand. i’m so in love with the idea of being in love

————————————————————————

when gojo first met you, he didn’t think anything would come of it. he just assumed you’d be another colleague of his but you quickly proved him wrong.

it started with quick, shy glances. those quickly because fleeting touches which would burn his skin and leave a mark ingrained in his brain of where you placed your hand. looks became less shy, touches became more certain and then you asked him out. you asked him out and that day he knew he was hooked. the moment he kissed you, he knew he was going nowhere, his brain already planning your future together. your lips met and he wanted to devour you but before he could go any further you pulled back and murmured something about taking it slow.

“d- did you not like it?” he asked nervously, face burning red.

“no, satoru.” you laughed and his face paled. “i liked it i promise but could we slow it down?” it came out as a question and he was confused on what you meant.

“slow it down?” he repeated, trying to understand what you meant.

“yeah, like…” you didn’t finish your sentence instead leaning in and pressing your lips against his. he let you take the lead, wanting to see what you meant. and he finally understood. your lips moved slowly against his, parting just a bit and breathing him in. you meant slow literally and gojo likes this more. he was used to being rushed, everyone around him expecting him to do any and everything quickly but you didn’t. you let him do things on his own terms and now he was doing them on yours. slow. he was used to women rushing him, just trying to get him into their beds, lips moving hurriedly, all teeth and tongue as they stripped him.

but you, you took your time. when you parted your lips enough to slip your tongue into his mouth, he groaned. your hands trailed down his abdomen and met his, moving them from the harsh grip on your hips to up your back, cradling your body and allowing him to pull you closer. the two of you now flush against each other as gojo hunched over to keep his lips against yours. you licked into his mouth moving your tongue against his, tasting him and taking whatever he’d give to you. you finally let go as you felt light headed from the lack of air and looked up to gojo. for your date tonight he opted for glasses instead of his usual blindfold, he had taken them off when you reached your door and as you stared into his beautiful blue eyes, they were sparkling.

“like that.” you finished your earlier sentence. all he could do was nod dazedly, too entranced by you to actually respond with words. “so i’m gonna go inside now…” you backed away slowly. “you’re welcome to come in if you’d like.” you added.

“god you have no idea what you do to me.” he sighed breathily so caught up in you. “but i can’t. i have um, paperwork.” his voice was raspy and breathy as he panted.

“oh, ok.” you sounded disappointed. and he grabbed you just a bit tighter before you could slip away.

“please don’t think i’m shooting you down.” he was quick to explain himself. “trust me, there is nothing i’d like to do more than come in there with you but if i’m late on my assignments one more time, yaga will be on my ass.” he clarified.

“satoru, you’re fine.” you smiled at him. “i understand, i don’t want you any later on more work than you already are. we can just continue this another time.” you smiled at him. he went in for another kiss and as your lips met you let out a satisfied hum.

“another time.” he agreed. he watched you enter your apartment and then made his way back to his car, when he finally took a seat and looked down, it was exactly as he thought. there he was, sporting a semi in his slacks and he wanted nothing more in the world than to go back to your apartment and ravish you. but he had already promised, another time.

- - -

for a while gojo wasn’t sure another time would happen. curses had been popping up more and more out of nowhere and when he finally got to the bottom of it, it was weeks later and he was scared you wouldn’t be interested in him anymore. but after you reassured him you still wanted to go out with him and understood how important work is he finally got you where he wanted you for weeks.

you were under him in his bed, completely bare for him. he was kissing you slowly, just as you taught him and your hands were all over him. trailing from his back to his chest and you rubbed your thumbs over his nipples jokingly but he had whined into your mouth and you laughed. giggles escaping your mouth and flowing into his. he pulled back to look at you with one of his eyebrows raised. “you like that?” you questioned.

“lil’ bit.” he murmured, his face completely red from you finding out he has sensitive nipples. you laughed some more before gripping his hair and pulling him back down to you.

“you don’t have to be embarrassed, i like that you let me touch you, let me figure out what makes you squirm.” you brought his lips back to yours and bucked your hips, his cock soaked in your wetness gliding against your heat and he moaned. he reached over to his nightstand, searching for a condom, pulling back from your lips to look at what he was doing. he finally found the foil packet and tore it open, ready to slide the rubber onto his cock but you stopped him, taking it from him and gliding it onto him instead. he groaned, your hand moving up and down his shaft as you finally got the condom on.

“fuck. fuck, stop.” you looked up at him. “you gotta stop or i’m gonna cum.” his voice was breathless, panting as you continued to move your hand.

“what if i want you to?” you challenged. he shook his head.

“can’t.” he grit his teeth. “fuck, i can’t. when i cum, i wanna be inside you. and it’d be a waste of a condom.” he laughed, you finally took your hand off him and he sighed. he lined his tip up with your entrance, circling it, smearing your slick over the condom and your pussy lips. your hole was clenching around nothing as he teased you.

“please ‘toru. don’t tease me.” you pouted at him and he thought that if you kept looking at him like that, he’d give you the world. he finally pushed in, stretching you open and settling so deep within you. you moaned in bliss as he buried himself to the hilt, pressing against all the spots that made you squirm. he choked on a groan when he finally settled all the way in, you’re so warm and he had to stop moving or he’d be damned to cum too early. he gave you time to adjust to his girth and length and for himself, staving off his orgasm. “you can move now, ‘toru.”

“fuck, just give me a second, please baby, just a second.” he moaned into your neck. you simply rubbed his back as he pressed his entire body flush against yours. he finally felt he was in the clear as the orgasm settled. he sat up, resting his arms beside your head and he started moving, setting a quick rhythmic pace. your nails dug into his lower stomach and he whined, face falling back into your neck.

“‘toru, ‘toru, slow down.” you sighed out, tits bouncing up and down from how fast he was going. he pulled his head up to look into your eyes. “slow down.” you said lowly, not a command but he followed your direction anyway. “i like it slow. like when you take your time.” you told him. you moved your hands from around his neck to his hips, gripping them as you showed him how to move. “l- like that.” you stuttered as he moved at the pace you enjoyed. your back arched, chest pressing against him as his cock rubbed against your walls. your moans were so soft and gentle in his ears. with the way you’re guiding his hips and how slow he’s moving he can really feel you and while he’s used to the fast pace of sex this is different. good different.

every time he pulls out and pushes back in he can feel you clenching around him, every twitch and clench of your pussy, he can feel and it has his head reeling. he’s never felt this good and he can feel his orgasm building again. his stomach is clenching and his hips are twitching with his every movement. your moans spur on his own and he’s whining into your ear. his hand moves to rub your clit causing your eyes to roll back and choke on a moan. “‘toru,” his name falling from your lips has a visible affect on him as he caves in on himself. “‘toru, i’m gonna cum.” your voice is high pitched, your knees locking around gojos hips as he keeps pressing into your sweet spot and rubbing your clit. your thighs are twitching and you clench so tightly around him he has to grit his teeth.

your back arches as your orgasm washes over you and you go completely silent. it takes you in waves, starting from the pit of your stomach and flowing throughout the rest of your body. your mind is completely blank, all you can see and hear is white and you don’t notice you start crying out for gojo, pulling him down into your grasp. he falls into you as your entire body trembles, shaking as you cum. your chest is heaving as you come to, body shaking as gojo keeps thrusting and rubbing your bundle of nerves. you feel his hips stutter against yours and his back tensing, he’s trying so hard to not cum yet, wanting at least one more orgasm out of you. he’s shocked he made it this far and he’s determined to keep going but you have other plans.

you grip his hair and turn yourself towards his ear nibbling at it and your other hand comes up to his chest and rubs over his nipple. you suck and bite at the skin behind his ear, the sensitive part you found earlier. your thumb and index finger tweak his nipple, pinching and twisting it. “want you to cum ‘toru. want to see how pretty you look when you cum in me.” he whines loudly into your ear. he’s trying so hard to not cum but when you play with his body they way you are and whisper in his ear so prettily, who is he to disobey you? his hips slam into yours one more time and he buries himself in you, trying to get as close as possible.

just as yours, his orgasm starts in his lower stomach but he swears he can feel it in his soul. he’s moaning and whining loudly in your ear as you continue to lick and prod at his body and he shakes. he’s stuttering over words, trying to tell you how good he feels but fails, his body won’t let him. his hips are grinding into yours, grinding into your clit and his cock is twitching as he shoots his load into the condom. he cums so hard for the first time in his life since he was a teenager, he swears he’s going to pass out. you’re still pinching his nipple and biting his ear, dragging his orgasm out as rope, after rope, after rope, leak from his over sensitive tip. he’s crying now, tears falling onto the skin of your neck as he keeps cumming. there’s so much of it he fears it will leak out of the condom but is that so bad? to see his cum leak out of your clenching hole and he wishes that you would have let him go bare. he prays to god you’ll let him fuck you without a condom next time.

his body finally calms down and he falls slack on top of you, cock still twitching deep in you. he’s panting heavily, his chest finally filling with air after holding his breath for so long. you move slightly, just trying to get comfortable and he cries out. “fuck don’t move, ‘s sensitive.” he sobs, voice so high he barely recognizes himself. you freeze in your spot and murmur apologies, kissing wherever you can reach and rubbing both your hands up and down his back. he’s still shaking and you fear it won’t stop.

“satoru.” you say worriedly. “are you ok?” you’re concerned, so concerned. you hadn’t meant to harm him, you really hadn’t but now you’re afraid you had. he laughs but stops almost immediately when it causes his hips the slightest movement.

“m’ ok.” he mumbles. “jus… i’ve never cum that hard.”

“oh…” you’re surprised, to say the least. while you know gojo isn’t the most popular with girls - he’ll never actually admit it out loud but he’s too afraid to actually approach a woman, past relationships and flings were initiated by the female counterpart - you expected him to have better experiences than you. he finally pulls out, mustering enough strength from his body that feels like jelly, pulling off them condom, throwing it to where he hopes the trash can is and collapsing beside you. he falls onto his stomach and places his head on a pillow to look at you.

“are you ok?” he mumbles sleepily, he’s never usually worn out after sex but you’ve gotten to him and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“i’m ok.” you move closer to him, resting your head on your hand that was supported by your arm and trailing your fingers up and down his back, tracing the freckles and blemishes there.

“i really like you, y’know.” you blush at his words.

“i really like you too.”

“i was being serious.” you raise an eyebrow at him, questioning what he meant. “i’ve never cum that hard. i don’t think anyone’s ever taken their time to see what i like. but you did. you always see what i’m ok with before anything. thank you.” his eyes are falling shut.

“you’re welcome.” you whisper leaning over to press a kiss into his hair, ready to turn on your other side and fall alseep but gojo wraps his arm around you and pulls you into him. tangling his body with yours before pulling his comforter over you two and passing out. you look at him and giggle. just as him, you could get used to this.

of course you two don’t always take it slow over the course of your relationship. you both have your moments when you’re begging for more, faster but gojo likes when you’re like this and he enjoys taking his time with you and slowing down.

————————————————————————

i’m in heat. (it’s ovulation week.)

#gojo brainrot #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk

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nowritingonthewall · 4 months

Note

Hi! Can I ask for some random and domestic Poe HC? 🤧

Hello Nonnie, thank you so much for your request! I am sorry that my hcs always appear to escalate into mini-essays, I hope that you enjoy them anyway 🥰

!Content warning for allusions to past trauma (because it’s Poe) but it’s mostly fluffy!

Domestic headcanons with Poe (x gn!reader)

- If you were honest, you would never have expected Poe to actually settle down after the Battle of Exegol and the fall of the First Order. After all, he had been on the run since he had been 16 years old, his family a bunch of rebels, his home scattered across the stars. You had fully expected him to make his new job as a flying instructor his whole new life, filling every second with something exciting to do, always chasing the next thrill, never slowing down and let himself think for even a minute.

Instead, after helping the New Republic to get back on its feet, he had put most of his energy and devotion into making a home with you.

Even though he loves his job teaching students (and spending a lot of time in his x-wing while doing so), he always makes sure to finish on time so that he can spend as much of the remainder of the day with you as possible. It has become one of your daily little rituals for you to wait for him, sitting on your porch, two mugs of freshly brewed caf in your hands. It never stops warming your heart to see that gorgeous crinkly-eyed smile lighting up his face as soon as he sees you waiting for him. Giving you an adorable little wave, he always quickens his pace before pulling you into a long and heartfelt hug.

Watching the suns painting the sky with the most beautiful colours imaginable, you’ll sit snuggled up against each other, listening to each other's daily adventures.

It usually doesn’t take long before Poe’s head grows heavy against your shoulders. The first few times he tried to fight it and wouldn’t stop apologizing, no matter how often you tried to assure him that you didn’t mind at all. But soon these late afternoon or early evening naps become just another part of your daily routine.

Poe spent more than half his life making sure that everyone around him felt safe. Now, with the war becoming a more and more distant memory each day, it’s like his mind finally allows his body to catch up on all the rest that he has been denied during all those years – finally feeling safe in your arms.

And there really aren’t a lot of things that you enjoy more than holding your sleepy boy with his head resting in your lap, one hand intertwined with his, as the other one plays with his hair. You smile at every patch of grey that you find among his inky curls, more than grateful to be given the precious gift of being allowed to watch him grow old with you. It makes the warmest and fuzziest feelings bloom inside your heart to see his worry lines relax under the soft touch of your hand as you listen to his content mumbling and cutest little sighs.

- He still can’t sleep without you around, though. Whenever he is in dire need of a nap, and the weather has gone too cold to sit outside, even under a heap of cuddly blankets, he’ll sit down on the couch, look at you with the most irresistible baby ewok eyes and his softest smile and tap on his chest to ask for his favourite human blanket.

Sometimes he falls asleep within seconds as soon as you snuggle up to him. Sometimes he finds that it wasn’t sleep that he craved after all but simply the comforting presence of you right next to him, listening to the soothing rhythm of your breathing as you drift into peaceful slumber until his breath synchronizes with yours in perfect harmony. And sometimes your planned naps turn into Poe and you talking nonsense for hours, exchanging forehead kisses and nose rubs between giggles.

Poe used to think that the only way to escape the constantly reoccurring ringing in his ears was to drown it out with something even louder. Now he realizes that all he needs to find relief is the soft warmth of you lying on top of him, the shape of your bodies fitting together as perfectly as if they had been custom made for each other.

- And he allows himself to take his time with everything that he does. No more bone crushing hugs that aren’t allowed to last longer than a second and that he’d hoped would convey everything that he hadn’t time for to tell you in case he wouldn’t make it back from a mission. No more quick and chaste kisses to whatever body part they would land on before hurrying off into the next briefing or meeting.

Now he makes sure to pour all of his undying love for you into every single hug until you feel nothing but warm and safe and cared for. Every kiss of him shows you that you are the centre of his universe, from the very first kiss in the morning to the last kiss goodnight. They have become so much more tender and gentler, yet they never leave a single trace of doubt about his feelings for you.

Quick shared showers that used to be a practical necessity turn into long shared baths that last until the water turns cold. Sometimes when you aren’t ready to step out of your cocoon of warmth just yet, you wrap each other in fluffy towels and make yourself comfortable on the heating unit waiting until you’re dried off.

As you cuddle up to each other, enjoying the closeness, you find a new softness and gentleness to your relationship that you had never thought possible. You are no longer clinging to each other for dear life, always scared that you might lose each other the next minute, constantly feeling like loving on borrowed time.

And Poe takes his time rediscovering and getting to know you all over again. Gently scrubbing your back in the bath or giving you a long tension-relieving massage. Learning everything there is to know about how you take care of your hair, while committing every single detail about you to memory. Not because he fears that every time might be the very last chance to do so but because he decided to commit every single fibre of his heart and soul to loving you. Because he chooses you. Over and over again.

It takes a while for him to get comfortable letting you take care of him the same way that he takes care of you. Yet every time it is your turn to hold him in the bathtub, he finds it a little easier to relax against your chest, melting into your embrace a little deeper. With every soft kiss pressed to his temple, he manages to let go a little further. As he rests his cheek against yours, while your hands are slowly caressing over his arms, he has never felt more vulnerable and at the same time more safe and protected than during those moments.

That’s when the tears tend to flow.

Those are the days when you make sure to take extra good care of him. Letting him rest his head against your shoulder as you carefully pat his back with a towel, gently kissing his tears away before placing a soft kiss on every single one of his scars, putting pain relieving lotion on his arm and massaging his tense shoulder. Only a few months ago this kind of special treatment would have made him feel more than uncomfortable. Seeing his own needs through your loving eyes, he slowly begins to accept that it is okay to take them seriously. And as he curls up against your chest, he doesn’t only allow it but he knows that he can completely trust you to take care of him.

- Poe has always loved to dance. Nearly as much as he loves to cuddle with you. Sadly, the days of the Resistance hadn’t exactly given you a lot of opportunity to do so and reasons to break into celebratory dances had been all too rare. So now he takes any chance he gets to hug you from behind, snuggle up as close to you as possible, rest his head on your shoulder and his cheek against yours while swaying the both of you to some music coming from your holopad or to a secret rhythm that only the two of you seem to be able to feel.

You dance in the morning while waiting for the first few cups of caf to brew, while waiting for something yummy baking in the oven, when you’re trying to dust the shelves, or while doing the dishes.

Doing the dishes never becomes a boring task with Poe. If he doesn’t turn it into a dance, there are bound to be lather battles that more often than not turn into tickle fights. And they always end with him using the dish cloth to draw you in for a long and wobbly-knees-inducing kiss.

This is also where most of your more serious conversations take place. It’s always been easier for Poe to talk about difficult topics while his hands have something to do. So whenever you feel like there’s something on his mind that he has trouble talking about, you’ll ask him “dish discussion?”, to which he answers with a relieved smile.

And, of course, should the topic require some serious hugging action, you can always continue your discussion on the kitchen floor, which proves over and over again to be the best place to solve any problem imaginable. And in case one of you should be in need of an even more comforting atmosphere, your kitchen cabinet features an extra compartment containing all the components required to build a blanket fort. It’s a habit that goes back to the early days of you joining the Resistance. And afterwards your blanket fort of safety can easily be converted into a blanket fort of romantic dinners and cuddle sessions.

- The two of you share a little garden with Rey, who doesn’t live too far away from you (I am sorry, LEGO, I refuse to believe that the trio would ever split up!). At least it was a little garden in the beginning. It all started when Poe noticed how Rey’s eyes would start to sparkle whenever she came across anything lush and green. So he began to present her with a special plant from every place that he visited. Pretty soon even her house was too small to accommodate her (not so) little personal jungle, so you helped her turning her backyard into a little garden. Which just kept on expanding. Because it never stopped warming Poe’s heart to see the way Rey’s face shining brighter than the suns whenever he found a new exotic plant for her.

He helped her create her special place of happiness both in her mind and in the physical world and you two are the only ones apart from Finn she trusts to take care of it. Even if your and Poe’s gardening sessions sometimes turn into several rounds of mud wrestling or splashy water fights.

Poe’s first very own gardening project featured the planting of a row of koyo trees. They weren’t even supposed to be able to grow in this climate but Poe Dameron has never been one to let logic or reason stand in the way of matters close to his heart. After all, he had managed to nurse a force tree back to health without any jedi tricks. And maybe Rey’s and Finn’s way with the force helped a little, too. Though he will always tell everyone willing (or maybe not too willing) to listen that it was your loving care that made the trees grow and flourish and bloom in the end.

His proud little face when he was able to harvest the very first fruit is another one of your many precious and treasured memories. Of course he let you have the first bite, almost a little nervous about your reaction.

The original plan was to turn the fruits into juice and jelly and lots of cakes. Which was a good plan. And it probably would have worked if the koyo fruits hadn’t been so damn tasty that you ate most of them before they ever had a chance to land in a basket. And what better way to spend the last days of summer than sitting lazily in the cool shadow of a koyo tree, taking turns to lie in each others lap while feeding each other freshly picked koyo fruits?

- During the nights when neither of you is able to sleep, you’ll climb onto the roof of your house, which offers a snug little platform that provides the perfect secluded retreat to lie on your back and gaze at all the stars in the galaxy. A galaxy that’s finally at peace.

Poe’s gaze keeps wandering back to you, though, and every time it does, he can’t stop smiling. As soon as you notice, you’ll snuggle a little closer to cradle his head and place the softest little kiss on his forehead, making him smile even wider. Softly stroking your cheek, he returns the kiss. On your nose, on your temple, across your jaw line, all over both of your cheeks, and everywhere he can reach.

You finally dare to make plans for the future again. Talking about all the stars and systems and planets you would like to explore together. Without rush, without being constantly on your guard, actually being able to look forward to visiting them.

The important thing is that Poe is no longer driven by the uncontrollable need to chase every single one of them. Because he has his own little galaxy lying right here by his side.

#poe dameron #star wars #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron x you #reader insert #poe dameron headcanon #fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #chrissie tries to write #chrissie gifs

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lotus-n-l0ve · 1 year

Text

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

— 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

➷ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : In the middle of a rainy night, Your boyfriend, Peter needs you and you are more than happy to comply.

➷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : Little to no dialogue, smut, cursing, oral (female reciving), reader sleeps naked, pet names (sweetheart, baby, darling), 18+, Minors Don't Interact, 1.3k words.

➷ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : Hello loves. I'm so sorry for not posting any Peter Parker fic for almost two months. I was originally planning to post another Peter Parker fic but I can't fucking seem to finish that one. So I wrote this one instead. I'll post that one later some day. This is my first time writing smut so don't expect too much. If you like the fic then please leave a like, comment and reblong. Follow me for more like this. Enjoy ♡

𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Fingers glided down your naked spine, pulling you out of your slumber yet you don't open your eyes. The hand halted at the bottom of your spine before making it's way to you front. The heavy hand lay on your waist. Next a warm pair of lips made it's way to the nape of your neck before buring the head in your disheveled hair.

The sound of rain drops hitting almost drowned his voice. The room was chilling. If not for the warm fuzzy douvet and the warmth of you lover, you would have frozen to death. Specially since you like to sleep naked.

"I know that you are awake, baby. Stop acting now." Your lover whispered.

To this you blinked your eyes open. You could see the thin layer of water running down on the glass window. You turn your body to face, still wrapped in his arm. Your head lay on his arm. You pull your legs over his waist.

"Can't sleep?" You whisper, matching his own tone as you palm his jaw in one hand. You run your thumb on his jaw back and forth in a repetitive manner.

Peter shook head before pulling you closer to his body. Your breath mingling with eachother's. His brown eyes stared down at you with clear adoration in them, amost making you want to shy away. You were great full for the darkness present in the room. Otherwise he would have seen blood crawling up your neck and cheeks.

But unknown to you Peter could see your cheeks becoming red in blush, which made him laugh quietly. Before you ask the reason of his laugh, Peter leaned down capturing you lips in his own. Your back hit the bed as Peter hovered over you.

You lips danced with his. The kiss was soft yet passionate. You two have kissed many times before so you would think that you are used to them. But each time Peter kisses you feel just like the first kiss you two shred. Heartbeat kept getting faster, butterfly flattered in your stomach. You felt euphoric.

Your one hand rested on his shoulder as the other one creeped in his brown locks. Peter then started trailing kisses down your throat, stopping at your collarbones as he dropped open mouth kisses one after another. Sucking and licking one your weak spot. You could not help as moans kept erupting from you.

You throw you head giving him more space to mark as you spouted his name like a spell. Peter left feather kisses down your chest to the valley between your boobs. The buds already hard and aching because of the cold weather.

Peter grabbed one breast in his hand, massaging it now and then and took the other one in his mouth. His tongue rolled around the aching bud, playing with it. His one hand squeezing and tuging your other nipple.

When he had given enough attention to both boobs Peter sat up, kneeling between your legs. His chest heaving up and down with huffs along with your. Peter brought his hand to your wet pussy. His thumb parting your pussy and smethering the slickness all over.

You hips jerked up to feel his fingers in your clit but Peter palmed your stomach and pushed you back down. You stared at him, pleading with your eyes to just put his cock in you but Peter had other plans.

Peter kissed both your knees before trailing hickeys down your thighs. Peter kept kissing and sucking your inner thigh. His face was dangerously close to your cunt, his warm exhale teasing it. You writh and moan under him. Pushing his head in your soaking pussy, trying to get any kind of fraction to help your aching.

"Pe-Peter please." You stuttered out between breathy moans, "I ca-can't take this anymore. I need you."

Peter locked his eyes with you from between you spreaded legs. The view was so erotic that you couldn't help but moan. His lips curled up to smirk, "Where do you need me sweetheart?"

"Here?" He kissed your inner thigh, "Or here?" He whispered while biting on your other thigh, "Or here?" He softly bit your clit. The caress of his cold teeth sending a shiver down your spine.

You back arched at the sensation, "My-My pussy, Pete."

"As you wish Darling." Peter muttered before giving your pussy long lick.

You almost sigh at the sensation. His tongue doing magic. His tongue playing and nibbing on your clit. Peter entered two of his finger in you. Your walls clenching around the digits for relief. He pulled his digits out all the way back before shoving them in you again.

His pace was slow and steady. You back arched and you threw your head back. Your thighs squeezing around head. Peter kept licking, nibbing and sucking your heat. Soon you could feel the familiar knot in your stomach.

You were close. Your heels dug on his bare back as you grabbed his hair and shoved his face deeper in your pussy. Peter snorted at your acts.

"Pe-Peter I'm cu-cuming." You whined.

"I know baby. Cum for me, won't you?" Peter mumbled.

And with his words you came undone with wail. You chest kept falling and raising as you huffed. Peter lapped on your leaking cum like a sterved beast. Gulping every last drop, not letting any of it get waist. With a last stroke of his tongue pater raised his head from your pussy.

White and sticky cum glistening on his lips and jaw. Peter swiftly got rid of the only boxer he was wearing and took out a condom from the nightstand. Peter rolled up the condom on his cock and positioned himself on your entrance with your legs thrown over his shoulders.

Without any wait Peter entered in you with so much force that you almost hit your head on the headboard, if not for his hands which were gripping your waist. You and Peter sigh goarn sync. Peter could not wait anymore.

With one hand on the back of your thing and the other one around your neck, Peter pounced on you. His hips going back and forth. Peter kept thrusting in you with all his force. He loved the view before him.

You laying helpless under him. Hands clutching the bedsheet. Boobs bouncing with each of his thrust. You walls hugging his cock like the the cocksleeve it was. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the room as his hips slammed your inner thighs repeatedly. His head leaned back as the the feeling build up in his stomach. He was close as were you.

"Come'on princess. Cum for me. Cum for me princess." Peter kept blabbering nonchalant words.

With no time you both were cumming undone with moans and groans. With a last thrust he pulled out of you. You whimper at the lack of feeling. You walls clenching around nothing and pussy throbbing.

Peter took of the condom and threw it in the dustbin before his heavy fell over you but made sure to not put too much of his weight over. His head resting on your chest. For the next few moments the moment filled up with the sound of your heavy breathing.

There was no sound of storm of rain. The rain had probably stopped while you two were busy with each other.

"You want to take a shower?" Peter muttered, his head still resting on your now calm chest.

"Bath." You answer in one word.

"Okay. Let's go." Peter placed a quick kiss on you nipples before picking you up in bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom, closing the door by a foot behind him.

Please don not copy, reupload or plagiaris my work. All the rights and credits of Marvel characters, gifs, songs and pictures used belongs to their rightful owners.

➷ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴏᴛᴜꜱ : If you want be added on any my taglist then you can do that here. The ask box is open so if want me to write something then you can request there.

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toomuchracket · 7 months

Text

and america likes me (politician!matty x reader smut)

i don't even know what to say about this. it's 3.5k words of matty if he was US president, and it's so filthy i feel like the shame nun from game of thrones is going to start following me around. like... there's butt stuff in here lmfao. that said, there's also fluff. idk. blame lana del rey for this, and enjoy <3

"matty, slow down, for fuck's sake, these heels are too high for me to run in!"

your husband scoffs and comes to an abrupt halt, releasing your hand from his own. before you can say anything, he scoops you into his arms and keeps moving down the marble-floored corridor, albeit more slowly than before, kissing you quickly to muffle the involuntary shriek you let out as you're flung into the air. "honestly, baby, i don't even know why you persist in wearing heels to these events - it's kinda inevitable that we'll run off somewhere we won't be interrupted, yeah?"

he's right. the two of you have been sneaking out of dinners and dances and drinks receptions together for the better part of twenty years, in search of lockable rooms where dresses can be hoisted up and underwear yanked down with nobody else finding out. but this isn't a university ball. it isn't a charity gala. it isn't a congressional dinner. christ, it isn't even your wedding.

you press a gentle kiss to the underside of matty's jaw, savouring his little hum of contentment that follows. "well, i thought my husband being sworn in as president was an event that deserved six inches of stiletto."

"i can think of something else that deserves six in-"

"i swear to god, matthew, if you finish that sentence i'm turning around and going back to the party without you."

matty laughs and kisses your nose. "we both know you're not going to do that, sweetheart."

"oh, do we, now?" you ask, raising a brow. "and what evidence do we have of that, mr. president?"

a smirk, the same one that's weakened any and all resolve of yours since you were eighteen. "because i'm ridiculously hot, that's why."

you roll your eyes as matty laughs, but - once again - he's right. he is ridiculously hot, especially in this moment: the moonlight streaming through the big windows catches the grey hairs threaded through his dark curls, his slightly stubbled jaw and cheekbones sharpened by the shadows it casts. the tie he was wearing earlier got lost somewhere between your first official dance as president and first lady and now, the top few buttons of his dress shirt coming undone in solidarity with it. speaking of the shirt - despite its expensive price, the white fabric is still sheer enough for the black ink on matty's sternum to be visible. although, you wonder, the transparency of the shirt might have less to do with fabric thickness and more to do with the fact it's being slightly stretched over your husband's muscle-wrapped chest, and the strong arms currently tucked under your legs. either way, it's really working for him. and you, as a result.

"mmm, i concur," you smile. "i think the evidence is quite satisfactory."

matty's turn to raise a brow. "quite?"

"well," you say, trailing a manicured nail down his neck and chest, stopping as you reach the first closed button. "i've only had a partial look. i think you need to be a bit more… uncovered."

"oh, believe me, sweetheart, that'll be happening. for both of us, actually," matty grins. "as much as i love this dress on you, i do in fact need to get you out of it as soon as possible."

"i'm cool with that."

"excellent. in that case, hang on tight."

you do as asked, and matty runs down the rest of the corridor, stopping when he reaches an imposing oak door. he gently puts you back on the ground, giggling with you and holding your hand as you readjust to standing on stilettos; he brings it to his lips quickly, before pushing open the door and beckoning you to step inside.

as you enter the warmly-lit entryway, a young man dressed in black leaps up from his seat behind a desk. "evening, ma'am, mr. president, sir."

matty gestures for the man to sit down. "evening, sam. i take it they radioed to tell you we were coming down here for a bit of peace and quiet?"

"yes, sir."

you squint at him. "you look pale, sam. have you had any dinner? or any sort of break, at all?"

"well… no, ma'am," sam replies, hesitantly. "i've been here since noon."

"almost twelve hours? that won't do at all," you gasp. "i really think you should get something to eat. and some coffee. the sooner, the better, because you look dead on your feet. no offence."

"none taken, ma'am. but i can't leave the vicinity of the office here until the shift change at 2."

"you don't have to," matty pipes up. "there's cake and coffee in the chief of staff's kitchen. and chairs that are much more comfortable than the one you have here - i'll sort that out for you tomorrow, actually. go, have a bit of a rest for an hour or so."

sam still looks hesitant. "are you sure, sir?"

matty nods, smiling. "that's a direct order. we'll ring you if we need anything."

"thank you, sir. oh, and speaking of the chief of staff," sam replies, pulling out a bottle of champagne from under his desk. "he left this for the two of you."

"ah, adam. always so kind," you grin, taking the bottle. "thank you, sam. have a good night."

"thank you," sam nods, making his way to a plain side door as you and matty make yours towards another imposing one in the opposite direction. "and you too, ma'am, mr. president. congratulations again."

"much appreciated, sam, thanks. see you tomorrow," matty waves, before gently pulling you through the second door and closing it behind you. "finally. alone at last."

you lay the champagne on a nearby sideboard and pull your husband into a tight hug. his arms find home around your waist, while your head buries itself in the crook of his neck. "alone at last, in the oval office. which i am very excited about decorating, by the way. this room is going to look beautiful once i'm through with it."

matty laughs, pulling back to look at you and caressing your face softly with his thumb. "it already looks more beautiful with you standing in it, darling, in your pretty dress and all your jewels."

as he speaks, he lightly brushes his fingers over said jewels adorning your hair and earlobes and neck and wrists and fingers. you smirk, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "you forgot one."

matty's head drops onto your shoulder, and he trails kisses along into your neck. one of his hands begins to knead your asscheek, while the other slips down the small of your back and past your tailbone and presses - gently, but still enough to send a rush of heat to your core. "i can assure you i did not, dirty girl."

"your dirty girl," you say, pulling matty in for a kiss. he eagerly accepts, tongue immediately slipping into your mouth; matty always kisses like he's trying to completely consume you. as if he hasn't already - your heart, your thoughts, your dreams… they're all devoted to him. and you want to demonstrate that devotion now. "who's about to get on her knees for you in the middle of the oval office."

matty moans into your mouth, but shakes his head. "nah," he says, pulling back, breathless and wild-eyed. "s'not what i want right now."

you pout. your husband laughs. "later, sweetheart, i promise. but for now - will you go and sit behind the desk for me?"

a rush of excitement passes through you. unlike matty, a political career has never been your dream, but the thought of getting to sit at the presidential desk in the oval office and experience the illusion of having that much power is undeniably thrilling. so you oblige, looking up at a smiling matty from your place on the butter-soft leather. "what exactly are you planning on doing, baby?"

another kiss, then matty speaks against your lips. "pledging my allegiance."

before you have time to react, matty's on his knees in front of you, unclasping your heels and carefully lifting your feet from them. then, sliding a hand up the expanse of your leg visible through the slit in your skirt, he gently lifts the top section of fabric away and spreads your legs as much as the dress allows. his pretty eyes light up at the sight of your lacy white panties; you whimper as he runs a finger down them, to which he responds with a "so responsive for me, fuck".

"take them off," you whine. "please, need you."

"and you'll get me, darling, whatever you want," matty coos. he slides the damp lace down your legs and places it on the desk - a disgustingly erotic sight, it has to be said - before placing a thigh on each of his shoulders and leaning in.

with a flat tongue, and with those dark eyes locked on your own, matty slowly licks upwards from your entrance; you moan in relief as he meets the wetness he coaxed out of your body by nothing more than just being. but relief is short-lived - his tongue points and swirls as it meets your clit for the briefest of moments, before matty takes the sensitive bud between his lips and just sucks.

pleasure shoots through your nervous system, releasing a wail from your throat, sending your hand straight into matty's hair, and forcing your hips to jerk upward. matty tries to stop the latter by pressing a hand on your stomach; combined with the way he's practically making out with your cunt and the way he moans into it when your fingers wrap themselves around his curls, though, it has the opposite effect.

but your husband doesn't seem to mind your hips writhing, your stomach clenching under his hand, your cunt grinding against his face. in fact, he seems to fucking love it - the way he's palming himself through his dress trousers with his free hand certainly corroborates that. when the realisation of what his arm movement is breaks through your sex-addled brain, a heady mixture of pride and more pleasure courses through your body. one of the most powerful men in the world is on his knees before you, as you're perched on the literal seat of his power, eating you out like a man starved and enjoying himself so much he can't help but get off to it like a horny teenage boy.

the thought alone would be enough to make you cum. and in conjunction with the actual feeling of matty fervently mouthing at your cunt, you're imminently heading that way. "matty, i'm - oh, fuck, that feels good - m'gonna cum, baby. please, please, make me cum, fuck, oh my god."

matty's eyes roll back in his head at your words. he abandons his self-pleasuring to wrap both arms around your thighs and tug you even closer to his mouth; you don't quite understand how that's possible, given how enthusiastically he's been tongue-fucking you for god knows how long, but, somehow, he manages it, burying the deft muscle up to the hilt inside you and bringing a calloused thumb to your clit. you let out a choked sob, digging your nails into the arms of your/his/the federal government's chair as your hips continue jerking and the elastic band of ecstasy grows ever more taut in the pit of your stomach. with a final suck of your clit, it snaps, spilling whines of your husband's name from your lips and warm liquid from your core onto his waiting face and tongue. he gently laps it up so it doesn't spill onto your pretty dress, cooing praises and reassurances in the moments in between when he comes up to catch his breath.

once he's satisfied with how clean you are, matty releases his vice grip on your thighs and rests his head on the left one. he's just as breathless as you, and probably just as fucked-out-looking, but you've never found him more beautiful, all messy and bright-eyed and covered in you. smiling, you run a shaky hand through his curls and watch him close his eyes in contentment; when he reopens them, he presses a kiss on your inner thigh and looks up at you. "hi."

"hi," you reply, smiling sweetly. "i love you."

"i love you too."

you grin cheekily. "the way you just went down on me suggested that, yes."

matty laughs. "honestly, baby, i think that was the most fun i'm ever going to have in this office."

"nah," you say, sitting up and leaning down to kiss him. the tang of yourself on his tongue sends another burst of heat between your legs. "i'm about to return the favour."

"jesus christ," matty groans, squishing his face into your thigh. he inhales, then looks back up at you apologetically. "as much as i'd love that, sweetheart - and i really, really would - i think if i'm not inside you in the next two minutes i might actually pass out."

you giggle, stroking his cheek. "noted. can i ride you, then? at least for a little bit, and then you can take me however you'd like."

"fuck, yeah. but i need to get you out of that dress first, need to see your tits. that alright with you?"

"mhmm," you nod. "can i get you naked, too, baby?"

"'course," matty smiles, pulling himself up to stand and helping you up onto your shaky legs. "turn around for me, gorgeous."

when you obey, he presses little kisses across the back of your bare shoulders, while simultaneously working on undoing the little buttons lining your spine. your dress falls to the ground once the final button is undone, leaving you bare save the jewels dotted around your body; swearing under his breath, matty brushes the one only he and you know about. "some day, i'm going to fuck you there, in this room."

gleeful, you spin around to face him, shoving his suit jacket off and beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt. "that better be a promise."

"oh, you beautiful, filthy girl," matty coos. he takes your face in his hands and kisses you, as your fingers move to unfastening his trousers. breaking the kiss, matty kicks his shoes off as you rid him of his shirt and attach your lips to the tattoo of your first initial on his ribs. "of course it's a promise. but first, i need to fuck that tight little pussy of yours, alright?"

"i can see that," you tease, as you yank down matty's trousers and boxers in one fell swoop and see his presumably achingly hard dick for the first time that evening. "take a seat, mr. president. let me make you feel good."

matty does as you ask, settling down in the chair and holding his hands out to help you climb on too. it's a big chair, the seat wide enough for you to comfortably kneel on either side of his hips, but matty doesn't look small in it by any means; he's assured, powerful, imposing… and sexy. you tell him as much, and his cheeks go pink as he shakes his head. "enough flattery, more fucking, please, sweetheart."

you smirk. "whatever you want, sir." with that, you slowly sink down onto matty's dick, both of your jaws dropping in tandem as more and more of him slides inside you. as he bottoms out, you blink dazedly, already slightly overwhelmed from how full you feel.

matty notices, and brings a hand to cup your jaw. "you alright, darling?"

"yeah, just full," you reply breathily, smiling sweetly at your husband. "feels good."

a smile in return. "feels amazing, baby. d'you want a hand moving?"

in response, you rise up on your knees and sink slowly back down, eliciting a moan from matty and a grin from yourself. "i've got it."

matty watches as you continue to bounce on him, your pace increasing with every meeting of your bodies. as you speed up, your tits begin their own bouncing; with a groan of your name, your husband takes one in each hand and squeezes gently, making you whine when he rolls your nipples between finger and thumb. "too fucking right you've got it, babe."

the praise shoots straight to your head, egging you on enough that you speed up your bouncing even more, as best you can. matty can't tear his hooded-with-pleasure eyes away from your tits, but even in his fucked-out haze he still manages to bring his thumb to your clit and lightly circle it; you whine and clench around him as soon as he makes contact, which rips a throaty groan from his lips. "shit, baby, just like that. so fucking tight around me, so fucking perfect, christ, feels like you were fucking made for me."

"love the way you feel inside me," you whine. "want you - fuck - everywhere."

matty closes his eyes for a second as if to compose himself - when they reopen, the beautiful brown is almost completely gone, replaced by the dilated black of lust. the hand not already preoccupied with your clit sneaks across your hip, deft fingers quickly meeting the jewel decorating your peachy ass. "oh, baby, i want that too. can't tonight, though, because we don't have everything we need. but we can still play a little bit…"

keeping his eyes on your face the whole time, matty slowly starts to pull the jewel out of you, just enough that the ring of muscle is stretched ever so slightly by the thickest part of the glass, before working it back in and repeating the motion. your breath catches in your throat at the feeling, the third level of simultaneous stimulation driving you deeper into your already sex-addled state, and your voice shakes as you whimper. "oh my fucking god."

despite being just as sex-addled as you, matty's cheeks lift into the most smug, most shit-eating grin you've ever seen him wear. "you like that, baby?"

you can't answer, your brain too hazy to send the signals for speech to your voicebox. but it's alright - matty's doing one of his telltale rhetorical 'orgasm is imminent' monologues: "yeah, i know you fuckin' do, shit, clenching around me like that. fucking love it when you do that, fucking love you, my girl, my favourite girl. such a good girl for me, fuck, just so perfect. you're getting close again, aren't you, sweetheart?"

still riding, despite your burning thighs, you nod. the elastic in your stomach is tightening again, far quicker than it did before your previous orgasm; your ability to talk hasn't quite returned, so you settle for burying your head into the crook of matty's neck and digging your nails into his back, tethering yourself to him in a wordless attempt to tell him you're about to cum.

luckily, your husband knows you and your body so well that he understands instantly, shuffling underneath you so he can fuck up into you and get you both off. "need you to cum for me, darling," matty murmurs into your hair. "need to feel you cum all over me. please, sweetheart."

it's the plea that does it. on top of the clitoral stimulation, and the attention on both holes, and the dirty talk, and the previous orgasm, and the sheer fact that it's matty underneath and inside you… it's his desperation that knocks you off the precipice. the elastic band doesn't so much snap as it completely shatters, sending a wave of total pleasure throughout your body that's so strong you actually black out for a second, after managing to finally croak out your husband's name.

you're brought back to earth by said husband whining directly into your ear. "oh fuck, babe, m'so close, m'so fucking close - shit, where do you want me to cum?"

"inside me, please," you reply, still panting from the aftershocks of orgasm.

"fuck, you want me to fill you up? i'll fucking do it, sweetheart," matty groans, hips beginning to stutter as he nears his climax. his speech, though, still flows out unencumbered. "might even put a baby in you, if we're lucky. you like that idea, darling, a picture-perfect little presidential family?"

you hum contentedly, too tired to do anything but nod into matty's neck. against your temple, you feel him smile. "then i'll fucking give it to you - shit, m'gonna cum. gonna fuckin' fill you up, give you what you want. give you anything you want, whenever you want it, my wife, my perfect girl - oh, fuck, i'm there. fuuuuuuuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."

matty wraps his arms around your waist and pushes down slightly with his shoulders, keeping your bodies flush as he pulses heat into you. he keeps his arms there even after orgasm wears off, and yours stay loosely wrapped around his neck; for a few minutes, you stay just like that, the room silent aside from the tandem heavy breathing. you're first to break it, pulling back from matty's neck to look at him. "hi."

"hi," matty giggles, leaning up to give you a peck on your pouty lips. "so… we just absolutely desecrated the oval office."

you giggle too. "indeed we did. worth it, though."

"absolutely," matty brushes a stray strand of hair - still miraculously mostly intact, despite it all - from your forehead. "you feeling alright, baby? you need anything?"

"honestly? a drink would be nice."

matty throws his head back against the leather and laughs, before looking back at you and stroking your cheek. "give me a minute to recover, sweetheart, and then we can crack open that champagne from adam and toast the incredible sex we just had, yeah?"

"absolutely, mr. president."

#mads muses #mads does writing #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #politician matty

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guilty-pleasures21 · 1 month

Text

The perfect guy

The list of chapters is now complete, meaning that part 9 will be the last part. I will then be finishing up some of my other fics before starting on the Bridgerton-themed one. So excited guys! ☺️

The project

The new guy

The lie

The new body

The hospital

The first time

The suit

The virus

The escape

Warnings: None

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She grinned as they walked arm in arm to his new room. He was still a bit slow on his feet, but he was starting to lean on her a little less now - a good thing considering how huge and heavy he was.

Miguel kept an eye on the nurse as she guided them along the hospital corridors. She'd turn around occasionally to glance at them, and every time her eyes landed on him, she'd blush and curl into herself shyly. He bent over to whisper in X's ear.

“That woman is attracted to me. I saw it on her face.” He looked down at X and flashed her a confused look. “Why?”

She snickered at his expression. “Because! You're so handsome, querido!”

He wrinkled his nose as he looked back at the nurse.

“But I'm yours. I don't want her.” He turned to X again, his copper eyes wide with fear. “I don't want anyone to ever try to steal me away from you.”

X patted his hand soothingly. “No one's going to steal you away from me, Miguel. That's something only you get to decide.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you get to decide who you want to be with.” She glanced away and ran her nails along his arm lightly. “Now that you have a physical body and everything. You can go wherever you want … and stuff.” Of course she'd look after him, help him get on his feet and give him everything he needed to live. But aside from the contractual obligations he needed to fulfill to the military, she didn't want him to feel like he was forced to be with her.

“I want you,” he replied immediately, firm and without hesitation - just like he always did. She looked up at him, relaxing when she saw the determined expression on his face. Then she smiled and he smiled too.

“Why do you keep copying me?” X asked teasingly.

“What do you mean?”

“You always smile whenever I smile.”

“I like seeing you smile,” Miguel replied easily. “It makes me … happy!” Yes, happiness: that was what this feeling was called. The giddiness bubbling up inside of his stomach, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the urgent tugging at the corners of his lips. It was a feeling he ached to replicate, over and over again. Like a spark.

“All right, this will be your new room, Mr O'Hara,” the nurse informed him, holding the door open for them. “Please let us know if you need anything - the call button is right next to your bed.”

Miguel peeked his head into the room and glanced over at the bed. It looked too small for both of them to fit on, but she could always just lie on top of him while they slept - she was so small compared to him, he probably wouldn't even notice she was there. He walked into the room, pulling X along behind him. “Thank you.”

The nurse nodded at him, pleased, then she shut the door, finally leaving the two of them alone.

Miguel shuffled over to the bed to sit down on it. Walking still wasn't coming to him so easily yet, so he was glad for the moment of relief. He pulled X onto his lap, then pushed himself up the bed, sitting back to look at her. She really was so pretty, so cute and so sweet. He curled his fingers around her waist and snuck his thumbs beneath the hem of her shirt to rub small circles along her bare skin. X giggled and Miguel felt his heart flutter at how adorable she looked.

“Miguel.” She grasped onto his shoulders and leaned forward to give him a knowing smirk. “What are you doing, querido?”

Miguel reflected her expression back at her as he brushed her hair away from her face. “Touching you. Just like you always wanted me to, querida.”

He tugged her closer to him, then pressed his lips to hers, finally learning what it felt like to kiss her. She sank against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he slid his fingers into her hair as she twirled her tongue around his. They smiled in between kisses, their lips and tongues moving against one another’s tenderly, appreciatively. X let out a soft moan and Miguel nipped on her lower lip at the sound. She giggled in response and he felt like his heart was about to burst with joy as he pulled her back to him to continue kissing her. He glided his hand up her back, then fumbled with the hook of her bra when he reached it. He’d never actually seen her putting it on or taking it off, so he had to do a quick search in his head on how to undo a bra. He pinched it open when he found the instructions, releasing her breasts just as he intended. Then he slid his hands around to her chest before she could react, closing his fingers around her soft flesh and groaning into her mouth as he squeezed her gently. “Mmm, f*ck.”

P*ta madre, they were even softer than the rest of her! He'd visualised himself running his hands all over her digital form before, their bodies replicating the movements he'd seen her do on herself numerous times already. But he'd never known that it would be so pleasing to his own body to touch her like this, to see that beautiful look on her face as he stimulated her.

Her p*ssy had started throbbing immediately at the feeling of his fingers brushing across her nipples and squeezing her breasts so gently. But she sat back and pulled his hands away from her reluctantly. “Miguel! We're in a public place, querido!”

He glanced up at her and smirked when he saw the desperation clear on her face.

“In a private room, querida,” he countered. He started moving his hands up her torso again, easily overpowering her to begin sliding her shirt off. “Let me see you, mi amor.”

X grabbed his wrists suddenly and forced his hands back down as she caught him off guard. Miguel looked up and grinned when he saw the irritated look on her face. She was cute when she was annoyed with him. He'd have to try making her mad more often.

“Miguel!” X chastised him, scrambling off of him to put some distance between them. She clipped her bra back hastily, then crossed her arms and glared up at him. But Miguel just continued smiling at her as he stood up, his tall form allowing him to tower over her dominatingly.

“Miss X?” The nurse asked, poking her head into the room. She paused when she noticed how close X and Miguel were, then gulped when she saw the teasing smile Miguel wore as he looked down at X. “Mr O'Hara's test results are back.”

“Oh! Thank you!” X exclaimed quickly, scurrying over to the nurse and grabbing the report from her. She pored over it as she walked back to Miguel, her attention seized completely by the numbers on the page.

“Uh, you're welcome,” the nurse replied uncertainly. She hesitated at the door, wondering if she’d forgotten something. “Oh! Does Mr O'Hara have any dietary requirements? For dinner.”

“Uh, no. Anything's fine,” X replied vaguely, still focused on his test results. But then she looked up and ran a critical eye over his muscular form. “But we'll need lots of proteins. Thanks!” She turned to give the nurse a quick smile, then flung her shoes off and climbed onto the bed. She crossed her legs and hunched over to continue reading the report, finished with the conversation.

“Um, okay,” the nurse replied, giving Miguel another bashful smile. “I'll be back later with your food, Mr O'Hara.”

Miguel avoided her gaze, not knowing how to respond. He felt weird whenever anyone who wasn't X looked at him like that. It was like he was burning up from the inside and his stomach was curling in on itself. And the back of his neck would start feeling really irritated too. He felt … embarrassed, he realised, finally finding the appropriate word in the dictionary. Embarrassed? That was that emotion X was always saying she had to try to figure out how to code into him. But he didn't need it to be coded in now that he had a body to produce the appropriate neurotransmitters in response to his understanding of human interactions. “Uh, thanks.”

The nurse left and Miguel turned back to X. She looked so cute when she was concentrating, her arched brows furrowing together, her nose wrinkling up and her lips twisting down at the corners. He lowered himself onto the bed next to her, then lifted her up and placed her on his lap.

X looked up, confused by the sudden interruption. “Huh?”

Wow! He was so strong that she must have weighed practically nothing to him, so easily had he just lifted her up and set her down on his lap. Miguel wrapped his arms around her and bent over to rest his head on her shoulder.

“How’s it looking? Am I cleared for sex, doctor?” He grinned against her neck as he cuddled her close to him and she giggled at his naughty words.

“Miguel! You're so naughty, querido!” X huffed in feigned annoyance and turned back to the report. “I'm going to have to delete your ability to dirty talk.”

“But you love it when I talk dirty to you,” he argued. He pulled on her earlobe with his teeth, then tickled the back of her ear with his tongue. Her head fell to the side of its own volition, her body reacting instinctively to his touch.

“Miguel!” X scrambled out of his grasp again, then paused, trying to come up with an excuse to stop him. “You should eat first! Aren't you hungry, querido?”

“The food's not going to be here until later,” he pointed out, getting up and going over to her. “In the meantime …” He took a step forward and she took one back, maintaining a bit of distance between them.

“But … I can ask for some snacks!” she suggested, not even realising that he’d been backing her towards the toilet the entire time. “Or something … Do you want me to go find a vending machine?”

Miguel continued to smile down at her as he placed a hand on the bathroom door behind her, opening it so she stumbled in. He followed after her and locked the door behind them before turning back to her, that devious smile still plastered across his face.

Tags: @jadeloverxd @migshusben

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