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#didn't even see this ask until now but damn
vivwritesfics · 2 days
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hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?
a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah
love youuuuuu
I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon
Verstappen reader
Warnings: light smut, fingering
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When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.
It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.
She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.
So, he flew her out to Qatar.
For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.
But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.
Neither could Lando, either.
He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.
"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.
Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.
""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.
The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.
Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.
"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.
She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.
Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?
That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.
"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.
Fuck, he needed her now.
Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.
It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.
The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.
But he was the one who didn't want her.
As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."
She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"
He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.
She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."
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fyorina · 2 days
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ᡣ𐭩 I, CARRION
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FEATURING: beast dazai osamu
SUMMARY: the day of the event has arrived and dazai is second guessing everything, but it's too late for him to back out now.{wordcount: 12k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}
AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART FOUR wow guys we're really getting into the meat of the fic now. HAHAH this is the chapter i had to split into two parts, initially it was going to be one big one but then it would've been a whopping 23k words and that's a bit much even for me. i didn't want to cross the 20k realm HAHAHH. anyway, this chapter really was a pleasure to write, the second scene was my favorite but the ending was SOOOO close to usurping it
GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings
SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A
“Gin-chan, I’m so nervous.” 
You pace around Dazai’s penthouse anxiously, twisting your fingers in front of your body. The event is taking place tomorrow night. You still don’t have an outfit for it—Dazai told you not to worry about it, you’re still worrying about it because what does that even mean? You don’t know what to expect from the event, and Gin is evasive when you ask her about what will happen, just keeps telling you that it’ll be fine as long as you stay with Dazai.
“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Gin says, as she always does, still tapping away at her laptop. Glasses hang off the bridge of her nose and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. You feel a bit ashamed about constantly going on about your nerves when you know damn well she, Dazai and all of the other executives of his company have been working nonstop the past few days trying to finish preparations. “Dazai-san will be with you the whole time, and if he has to talk business, someone will sit with you until he can get back so you’re not feeling awkward.”
Somehow, you think that might be even more awkward because you doubt a random person is going to want to babysit you while Dazai is busy, but you don’t voice your thoughts, instead just withering as you circle the large room for the sixth time in the past five minutes. 
You’ve hardly seen Dazai all week. You don’t really mind, you know he’s swamped with work and you’ve been keeping yourself busy going out cafe hopping and shopping. Gin comes with you when she can, but it’s usually Nakajima Atsushi or Tachihara Michizo that joins you—Gin had introduced you to the two security guards a week ago when she’d been too busy to come with you to a cafe downtown. You don’t mind the company but you can’t help but wonder why Dazai is so insistent that someone comes with you.
Well. You can’t help but wonder about a lot of things, really. You’re pretty certain that Dazai is still hiding something major from you. You don’t know a lot about business, and you especially don’t know anything about his business, but something isn’t right. You’re not stupid and everyone is not as slick as they think themselves to be, you see how tense and anxious people get when you mention him to them, more so than the average worker would be at the mere mention of their boss, and everyone in the entire damn building is armed, even though they clearly try to hide it whenever you’re in the area. 
You and your friends have joked about the uber wealthy before, and how no one above a certain tax bracket obtains their wealth without some sort of blood money; you’re about 99% sure that’s what’s taking place here too, and it would certainly explain all of the secrecy. More so than trade secrets at least, you feel a bit dumb for that to have even been an explanation in your mind. You just don’t know the specifics. You don’t know if you want to know the specifics, you think you’d prefer to remain ignorant because 1) you definitely don’t want to have any sort of culpability, not when you’re on path to graduate school and hopefully a very prestigious job with the government, and 2) … you don’t want to face the reality of what that would mean. 
You like Dazai. More than like him. You’ve been slowly coming to terms with the fact that you really, truly care for him, and if you end up learning the… specifics of his job, then you’re going to be forced into making a decision you don’t want to make: preserving your future and morals or risking them for him. And you’re not going to sit around and claim to be some upstanding, virtuous person. You’re not. But you are ambitious, and you’ve had your mind set on your future since you learned how to pick up a pen and write. You’ve worked your entire life to get where you are now, slaved your way through a prestigious undergraduate school in Japan and spent months preparing for the entrance exams for graduate school, only to what? Throw it all away for some man?
God, you almost feel sick. Distantly, you wonder how awful of a person you must be for the threat to your future success to be the main reason why you’re questioning yourself, and not the fact that it’s very likely that Dazai and his conglomerate have some sort of business with Japan’s underground, maybe even direct dealings with the mafia itself. 
You pause from where you’re pacing around the room, eyes widening a bit as another realization hits you. You had thought it was odd that Dazai and Gin and all of the executives of the conglomerate have been so stressed and anxious over an event that they’re not even hosting, but what if… Your throat spasms a bit as you swallow, wondering if Dazai is about to bring you not to an event hosted by their rival, but to an event hosted by the mafia. You don’t think he would put you in danger like that, you don’t want to think he would put you in danger like that and you wonder if you’re just sending yourself down a spiral of unnecessary paranoia. 
But it doesn’t make sense. Dazai is enamored by you, and you don’t think you’re being conceited by saying that because he has made it abundantly clear. There’s no way he would ever put you in danger like that. Not unless… you feel a bit green remembering his reaction to you saying that you’d go out on your own and stay with your friend the weekend of the event. You could feel the anxiety radiating off of him for a split second before he asked you to come with him. You also remember how he always makes sure someone is with you when you go out, and god, you swear you’re not a conspiracy theorist but nothing is making sense when you look at it through your rose-tinted lenses but looking at it through these lenses. The lenses of a man who is obviously smitten with you, and who might have dealings with the mafia—of course he wouldn’t want you to go out on your own because he’d be scared that you might be targeted as a means to get to him.
Oh, you feel dizzy. What have you gotten yourself into?
“Are you okay?” Gin is looking up at you, brows furrowed in concern. “You look a little sick.”
“I’m fine,” you say, but the words sound pathetic even to your own ears and you know Gin doesn’t believe you from the way she tilts her head to the side to study you.
Luckily, you’re saved by the bell. Literally. 
Your head snaps to the side as the elevator dings, and ordinarily, you would be ecstatic because who else would be coming up to the penthouse besides Dazai and while you’ve certainly missed him over the past week with how busy he’s been, you’re not sure if you’re ready to see him right now with the way your thoughts have just spiraled, because you think you might blurt something out that you can’t take back.
But, for better or for worse, it is not Dazai that enters the penthouse.
“Good morning, ladies,” a familiar voice croons as the elevator doors slide open. Your eyes light up as you whip around, eyes falling upon a face you haven’t seen in almost two weeks. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Albatross!” you say, excited, a smile splitting your face, because yes, even knowing about the possible affiliation with the mafia, you’re still excited to see the blonde—he’s never been anything but sweet to you, and he’s really the only one besides Gin and Chuuya who doesn’t treat you weirdly because of your relationship with Dazai. 
“D’aw, look at it, Lippmann, told you the doll would still remember me,” Albatross grins, dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose as he tosses you a wink and then looks back toward the elevator.
Your gaze follows his, and your eyes fall upon a vaguely familiar person stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse, carrying a few boxes. Pale hair cut into a bob, a pretty, androgynous face, dressed to the nines in a light purple waistcoat and matching pants—where have you seen him before? Wait-
“You’re-!” you begin, eyes wide and lips parting in shock.
“Walter Lippmann,” the man greets you with a kind smile and soft eyes, you feel a bit flustered, you can hardly meet his gaze. “Everybody just calls me Lippmann though.”
You try to speak, but you’re a bit starstruck—the last thing you’d expected was for a movie star to step into the penthouse. You’re looking between Albatross and Gin and then hesitantly back at Lippmann as you try to figure out what’s going on. 
Albatross cackles. “Looks like she’s gotta crush, Lippmann. Better not let the boss find out, he’ll get jealous.”
“Albatross,” you complain, hands flying to cover your hot face. “Not true, I’m just surprised. Am I allowed to be surprised?”
“Yeah, sure, doll, that’s it,” Albatross says, clearly not believing you at all as he throws himself onto the couch next to Gin, looking up at you. “The boss asked us to pick up a dress for you. Go try it on, I’m going to raid his liquor cabinet while you do—if he asks, you better take the blame.”
You see Gin roll her eyes. “You will not raid his liquor cabinet, Albatross,” she says firmly, but the man only winks at her.
You turn your attention back to Lippmann, who’s carrying the dress in a garment bag, a shoe box tucked under his other arm. He gives you a small smile and then motions for you to follow him; you’re still starstruck as you follow him into Dazai’s bedroom, pointedly ignoring the way Albatross snickers. 
You watch as Lippmann hangs the garment bag up on the closet, placing the shoebox down on the bed. He turns toward you after and says, “Try it on and make sure it fits properly. And make sure you like it.”
You nod, lips parting to speak but no words leave your lips. You look up at the garment bag, down to the shoes, and back to Lippmann and then you ask, “How do you… how do you know Dazai?” 
Lippmann gives you another gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You notice, a bit curiously, that he seems to take a moment before he speaks, as if choosing his words carefully. 
“I knew Dazai’s father,” he says after a few seconds. “I work with the Mori Corporation sometimes regarding press and political matters. Like a spokesperson when Dazai is unable to.”
Hm, you think to yourself before nodding, a movie star as a spokesperson for a corporation, that’s a bit odd, isn’t it?
Your brows furrow slightly as you try to fit the new knowledge in with all of the rest you’ve put together over the past few weeks but it’s just another jagged puzzle piece that’s not fitting in anywhere.
“I’m a huge fan of your movies,” you finally tell him, rubbing the back of your neck as you toss him a sheepish smile. “Like, no joke, almost cried when you had your discussion panel for The Good Society three months ago because it was two days before my entrance exam to grad school so I couldn’t go.”
Lippman laughs, pale cheeks flushing as he looks down at the ground before back up at you. “Honestly, you didn’t miss out. The whole panel was a mess, and the AC broke twenty minutes before, so it was ridiculously hot.”
You don’t really know what to say to that, cursing the fact that you are 1) still half dazed on top of 2) already being naturally awkward, but Walter Lippmann is Walter Lippmann, so of course he knows just what to say and do.
He nods to the dress that he hung up on the closet. “Try it on and then give us a show,” he says, winking at you before he makes his way out of Dazai’s bedroom back into the other room with Albatross and Gin.
You sigh when you’re alone again, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what your life has become before you make your way over to the dress. You unzip the garment bag, curious to see what Dazai had picked for you, and your eyes shoot open when you see the red gown within the bag. Smooth and silky, off-the-shoulder, it’s probably the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon; you feel like you shouldn’t even touch it, much less put it on. 
But Lippmann and Albatross and Gin are out there waiting, you can hear them talking through the door, so you force yourself to gingerly pull it off of the hanger, careful to not be too rough with the material. It doesn’t take you too long to get your clothes off and the dress on, but when you do, you can hardly bring yourself to move away from the mirror. 
You look beautiful. You do. The dress is a perfect fit, it compliments your skin, it compliments your hair. You look beautiful, but you feel like a fraud, like a clown in a ball gown, hoping that the beauty of the dress would draw attention from the fact that it’s not meant for someone like you. 
You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at your reflection. Too long, evidently, because you hear a sharp knock at the door and Lippman’s concerned voice asking if you’ve gotten the dress on.
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I’m dressed.”
You hear the door to Dazai’s bedroom creak open but you don’t turn to look.
“I think this costs more than my student loans,” you breathe out, staring at yourself in the mirror. You smooth your hands over the silky material, eyes catching the way it clings to you perfectly. “God, where the hell did he get something like this? It’s like it was made for me.”
“Probably was,” Lippmann says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, lips quirked up into a half smile as he tosses you another wink. “Perks of dating one of the richest men in Japan.”
You let out a noise caught between a whimper and a laugh, suddenly feeling very, very out of place.
Lippmann clearly catches your sudden change in attitude and his brows furrow. “Do you not like it?” he asks curiously. “There’s plenty of time for him to send for something else.”
“No, no,” you hurry to say, voice catching. Although you’re unsure how twenty-hour hours constitutes ‘plenty of time’, but you digress. “It’s perfect. It is.”
“What’s the issue then?”
“I just…” you trail off, eyes lingering in the mirror. “I feel silly, I guess. How obvious is it that I’ve never worn anything like this before?” 
“Silly?” Lippmann asks, amused, peeling off the doorframe to make his way over to you. You swallow thickly as he straightens your posture and then uses two fingers to make you raise your chin. “You look stunning. Like a woman who belongs on the arm of the most influential man in Japan… Like a woman who doesn’t need to be on the arm of any man.”
Your face feels a bit hot as you let out a puff of laughter. “Now you’re exaggerating.”
“I certainly am not,” Lippmann says firmly, taking a step back. “You’re only getting in your head. From what Chuuya has told me about you, you’re more than suited to outwit and outclass anyone in attendance at that event.”
Your face feels hotter now, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Flatterer,” you say, but you feel a bit better, chest lighter as your gaze turns back to look at the mirror. “... Do you-”
A sharp whistle from the door draws your attention from Lippmann; there’s a lecherous smile on Albatross’s face as he leans against the frame and looks at you, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. “Damn, if you weren’t the boss’s girl…”
Gin slaps him hard on the back of his head, glaring at him before turning a small smile to you. “You look beautiful,” she says softly. “He’ll be speechless when he sees you tomorrow.”
Your throat feels tight as your lashes flutter, a smile on your lips as you look down at the ground. Even though the concerns of your realizations from before still weigh heavily in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of seeing Dazai tomorrow.
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The giddiness is long gone.
You still haven’t gotten dressed.
You’re sitting at the edge of Dazai’s bed in your bra and panties, staring at the wall with your knees pulled to your chest. Your dress is hanging on the closet on the far side of the room, heels sitting on the floor beneath it. You’ve done your makeup and you put your earrings on already—pretty, dangly diamonds that are the most expensive thing you own, the last thing your brother gifted you before he cut you off entirely. You need to be getting dressed, Dazai will be up here any second to pick you up to leave for the event, but you just can’t bring yourself to put the dress on, anxiety eating away at you.
It’s not even because of the realization you’d come to yesterday, it’s because you think you’re about to make a fool out of yourself. Even if you’re wrong about the theory that you might be heading into an event hosted by the mafia and their associates, you’re still heading into an event that’s going to be attended by people who are much wealthier than you, and you already feel out of place and you’re not even there. 
The dress is beautiful, but you think you’ll look like a clown in it, everyone will know that you’re not from the same sector of life as them with a single glance. Lippmann’s words from yesterday are in one ear out the other now that you’re closer to the actual time of the event.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear the bing of the elevator arriving at the penthouse, and you don’t notice Dazai until he pushes open the cracked door to step into the bedroom. And you feel like you should be embarrassed sitting half naked on his bed, rather than being dressed and waiting for him, but you can’t muster it, eyes dragging up from the wall to land on his concerned expression. 
And he’s a sight, you think. He’s so handsome. Absently, you think he might be more handsome than the last time you saw him but you think that’s a bit ridiculous because he hasn’t changed at all. He’s wearing the same long black coat and burgundy scarf, but the sleek, dark suit he wears beneath it is different, more expensive than all of the others that he’s donned the past few months you’ve known him. 
His lips are turned downward as he approaches you, placing a blue box down on his dresser, dark eye soft with concern, and you also can’t help but notice that he still wears the bandages around the upper left side of his face, covering his eye. You want to know what’s beneath them desperately, but you can’t bring yourself to ask, hoping that he’ll show you on his own terms.
He stands in front of you, and you rest your chin on your knees as you stare forward, staring at his abdomen instead of looking up at his face. But he doesn’t let your gaze linger there, bringing his right hand to cup your cheek so he can gently lift your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. You can feel the rough edges of his bandages scraping against your skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch. You try to remind yourself of all of the realizations you’d come to yesterday, tell yourself to not be as at ease with him, at least have some semblance of your guard up, but you fail.
“What’s wrong?” he asks you softly, letting you lean into his touch as he brings his other hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”
And you feel selfish, you realize, as you try to figure out what to tell him. You can’t even fathom the amount of money he spent on your dress and the shoes, and here you are being a baby because you’re self conscious. You don’t even want to reply to him, so you try to turn your face away but he doesn’t let you.
“Tell me,” he says quietly. “I’ll fix it, whatever it is.”
“It’s silly,” you finally breathe out, averting your gaze to the ground as you let your eyes flutter shut, turning your face in his hand to kiss his palm before leaning back into it. “I’m being a baby, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not silly if it has you upset,” Dazai tells you, and he kneels down in front of you to catch your gaze again and briefly, you think it’s absurd that you have such a powerful man at your whims like this, kneeling before you, willing to do anything to make sure that you’re content and happy. It makes your throat swell a bit, those inferior feelings rising back to your chest with a vengeance, because what the hell did you do to deserve this? There’s nothing special about you. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help.”
“I just don’t understand.” 
Oh my god, your voice cracks, you can feel your eyes go a bit misty, and instantly, Dazai’s concerned gaze is narrowing, as if trying to calculate what exactly is the source of your distress so he can remove it, and it only makes you want to cry more because what did you do to deserve all of this? 
If you’re right about all of the assumptions you made the other day, and Dazai is bringing you to this event even though by all means he should not because there’s likely going to be a lot of shady business occurring that could incriminate him and all of the other people at this event, then why? Why would he risk that just for a girl he met a few months ago? You can’t fathom it.
God, you know better than anyone the effects imposter syndrome can have on a person in school, but the last thing you expected was to be dealing with it in love too.
Love, the word makes your stomach churn because you do love him, you realize, as he stares up at you desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it. And how scary is that, considering only twenty-four hours ago you came to the realization that he’s very likely involved in the underground, in some way or another, and you had to come to terms with the fact that you’d have to choose between your future and a man. But he’s not just a man, he’s a man that you love in spite of everything you’ve put together.
A tear spills over your cheek and Dazai’s gaze becomes alarmed as he instantly wipes it away with his thumb before caressing your cheek gently. 
“What don’t you understand?” he presses quietly. “Talk to me.”
Where do you fucking start?
You want to cry even more but you force yourself not to, you can’t afford to let your makeup get anymore messed up than it already is. Instead you sniffle a bit and try to blink away the tears. 
“This,” you finally say, and your voice cracks again, you take a wet breath. Dazai’s lips part a bit, as if he wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say, brows furrowing. “There’s nothing special about me, Dazai, and I don’t understand why you’ve gone to the lengths that you have for me. Meeting me at that club every Friday as if you’re not always swamped with work, indulging me whenever I want to do things. You gave me a place to stay after only knowing me for a few weeks, gave up your own room, your own bed, so I could be comfortable while you slept at your desk. You’ve made sure people are always with me so I never get bored or lonely. You’ve given me literally everything I could possibly ask for and I’ve just been freeloading off of you for two and a half weeks now. Now, I’m going to go with you to this event and end up embarrassing you because I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else there. They’ll know I don’t belong there and I just-”
You cut yourself off, and you want to avert your gaze from Dazai’s but you can’t bring yourself to. Instead, you watch as something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. He takes one of your hands into his and brings it up to his lips, eye sliding shut for a moment as he kisses your knuckles. You let out a shaky puff of air as his lips linger for a moment before he looks up at you again through his lashes.
“Let me help you get dressed,” he murmurs, and you look down at the ground now as you nod, letting him help you to your feet and lead you over to where the dress is hanging up on the closet door.
He pulls it off the hanger and guides you into it, pulling it up and adjusting it so that it covers you properly. He steps behind you, and you realize that he also has you standing in front of the floor length mirror set up on his closet door. You sniffle a bit again as you look at yourself in the mirror. 
Your makeup looks a bit smudged beneath your eye from the tears gathering at your lash line, but somehow, you still look beautiful. You think it’s only because of the dress, the way it clings to your body so nicely and brightens all of your features. You take in another shuddered gulp of air when you feel Dazai begin to zip up the back of your dress slowly, each brush of his fingers against your skin lights your nerves on fire, and once he finally has it zipped to the top, he kisses the nape of your neck, hands falling to your hips to caress them gently. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean back against him, his comforting hold settling your turbulent emotions.
“I met you at the club every Friday because you were the only relief I had from reality,” he finally says, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds you. “I indulged your requests because I was indulging in you myself. Every moment I spent with you, I allowed myself to be Dazai Osamu, the person, and not the… Not what I’ve had to become to keep this organization running.”
Your breath catches, lips parting at his words but no sound escapes them. He kisses the nape of your neck one last time before he moves to stand in front of you, kneeling down again as he grabs one of your heels and undos the buckle. You watch with bated breath as he lifts your left foot from the ground to kiss your ankle before sliding the heel on, deft fingers fasting the clasp. 
“I gave you a place to stay because I was selfish and I wanted you around more,” he sighs, resting his forehead against your knee now as he lingers there for a moment before moving on to repeat the process with your other foot, kissing your ankle and slipping the heel on. He continues, “Likewise, I have kept you surrounded by people because I have been desperately afraid that you’re going to get bored and want to leave because work leaves me little time to be around. Unfortunately, I’m not the generous person you’re making me out to be, I’m horribly self-serving and greedy, especially when it comes to you.”
He looks up at you now from where he’s kneeling in front of you, gaze searching your face. You want to reach out and cup his cheek, so you do, and immediately, he’s turning his face to kiss your palm just as you’d done to him before letting his eye slide shut as he leans into your touch, as if basking in it.
“I would give you anything you want,” he admits softly, keeping his gaze shut as he holds your palm against his face. “Anything. And if it was something outside of my reach, I would make it in my reach. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, no lengths I wouldn’t go to and no lines I wouldn’t cross.”
You think your lungs might be burning, you don’t think you can breathe as you stare down at him, heart thudding in your swelling chest, tears building in your eyes again but this time not out of insecurity. Dazai finally rises to his feet after placing one last kiss upon your knuckles, and he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to the dresser where he’d placed the blue box. 
You don’t move, watching as he opens it and pulls something out before making his way back over to you, standing behind you. He looks at you through the mirror as he lifts his hands to place a glittering diamond necklace upon your collarbone. You can’t breathe again, you realize, it’s cool against your skin and you think it might be the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon, dozens upon dozens of white diamonds shimmering in the mirror in front of you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he clasps it onto you. 
“You are beautiful,” he says, voice so raw that you almost shiver at the intensity of it. His fingers brush your hips as if he’s afraid to touch you. “You are beautiful, and intelligent, and everything I have ever wanted. You deserve so much more than me, more than you’ll ever be able to understand, and I’m sorry that I’m not a good enough man to do what’s right and let you go. The last thing you should ever be doubting is this.”
His eye slides shut again as he lets out a soft puff of air, the warmth fans across the back of your neck and you think you could spend forever in this moment with him, wishing that you could freeze time. 
“You said that you thought it was fate that brought us together,” he finally finishes, voice quiet as he references what you told him the first time you met. “Don’t ever doubt your place with me. Wherever I am, you belong, whether it’s a club, or an apartment, or an event.”
“I thought you hate the idea of fate,” you say, voice a bit choked as you try to force the tears back again.
“I do,” he affirms, “but if fate brought us together, then far be it from me to deny the one thing in this world that has ever made me happy.”
You love him.
You feel sick to your stomach—be it from butterflies or the implications of the realization. The words threaten to burst from your lips but you swallow them, instead, another tear trails down your face and he sees it through the mirror, lifting his hand to wipe it away before leaning a bit over your shoulder to press his lips to your jaw.
“I’m ruining my makeup,” you rasp, letting out another shaky breath.
He smiles against your skin.
“You’ll be beautiful still,” he murmurs before pulling back, admiring you for a moment before he asks: “Are you ready to go?”
You nod. “Yeah,” you say, a bit breathless. “I’m ready.”
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“Everyone is staring at us.”
You’re not wrong, exactly. As soon as the two of you had entered the room, all attention was sent your way, and though the music was loud enough to drown out most chatter (intentional, of course, so unsavory ears can’t overhear even more unsavory dealings), Dazai couldn’t help but notice the hush that spread through the room at the sight of you. The boss of the Port Mafia with a date on his arm was certainly a sight to behold to all of the rest of the occupants of the event hall,.
“Can you blame them? You look beautiful,” he says, voice laced with a teasing edge that is certainly not matched in his expression. Dazai knew people would be looking at you if he brought you here. Still, he wants to gouge their eyes out. 
His arm tightens around you as he tucks you into his side, cold gaze sweeping across the massive event hall. At least two hundred people are attending Nabokov’s event—an even mixture of pharmaceutical tycoons, technology barons, politicians and mafiosos. 
At first glance, he recognizes four different mafias in attendance. 
Mishima Yukio of the Sun and Steel stands by one of his associates, the president of Mitsubishi Chemical Group; the man’s dark eyes card over Dazai with lazy interest, before his head tilts to the side as he studies you.
Dazai thinks that the Sun and Steel might be the Port Mafia’s only allies in attendance, and even then, allies might be taking it too far. The extent of Dazai’s dealing with Mishima was a general agreement to not encroach the Sun and Steel’s monopoly over the narcotics industry—which Dazai never intended on doing anyway because the industry is far more trouble than it's worth—and an unspoken promise to protect Japan’s underground from foreign mafias. 
Dazai wonders if that unspoken promise still holds or if the Russians have cut a deal with him. 
Nabokov’s Pale Flame, obviously, is in attendance, along with the remnants of Leo Tolstoy’s Three Deaths. Tolstoy himself is sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand as he leans back on the stool, gaze focused on you. Nabokov is off to the left, making his way across the room to greet Dazai, a curious expression on his face. Dazai recognizes Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber sitting near Kitazawa Michihiro of Fuji Electric, one of the Port Mafia’s closest associates; and Dazai thinks that might be a bit foreboding, both because of the presence of the Chinese and the company he’s keeping.
Dostoevsky’s House of the Dead is nowhere to be seen, but Dazai knows that they’re here. Somewhere. He just has to find him—and he will.
More eyes are on you than him, and although that was to be expected, Dazai can’t fight the doubt that suddenly swirls in his chest, wondering if he’d made the right decision. If you hadn’t been on people’s radar already, you definitely are now, and the thought makes him a bit sick to his stomach. He tries to console himself with the fact that this was the lesser of two evils—the mere chance of you being on the radar of any of the mafias in this room, no matter how slim it might be, was not something he could gamble with. There was no way he could let you go out alone and unprotected. People like them, people like him, would jump on the chance to take advantage of the weakness and he couldn’t let that happen. 
But is this really any better? 
He’s thrown you into a pit of snakes, and you’re ignorant to all of the threats around you. His gaze drifts back down to you, catching the way your brows are knit together slightly, the way your lips are pressed in a thin line. There’s an indecipherable look in your eyes as your gaze shifts over the room, and Dazai wonders if you know more than you’re letting on. That’s another scary thought, but he can at least find comfort in it for now because it’ll have you keeping your guard up around these people. He’ll just have to deal with the consequences later.
He dips his head down to your ear, speaking quietly before Nabokov finally reaches him: “Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”
The look you shoot at him is nothing short of withering, and Dazai can’t help the smile that curves at the corners of his lips as he lifts his head back up to subtly brush his lips against your temple. He catches sight of movement from the corner of his eye and any softness that might’ve been visible in his expression washes away instantly.
“Dazai,” Nabokov greets, beady eyes flickering between you and Dazai, partially curious about you and partially nervous about Dazai. Dazai tilts his head to the side, becoming increasingly more unamused the longer Nabokov’s gaze lingers on you. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to apologize for not being able to attend our planned meeting a few months ago.”
“So I heard.” Dazai’s voice is short and distant, more focused on the feeling of you tucked into his side than the conversation at hand. He has to force himself to keep his gaze steady on Nabokov, wanting to look down at you, but he contents himself with letting his hand slide down to your hip, rubbing absent circles against the silky material of your dress. 
Nabokov fumbles over Dazai’s clipped response, a bead of sweat gathering at the corner of his forehead. He wishes he could peer into your head and see what you’re thinking, about him, about this, about everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through the night without you realizing who he is, what he is, and that thought scares him because he thinks that maybe he should have been the one to explain it to you, so he could at least try to paint himself in a better light. Although, he’s not sure what sort of light would make anything about him look better.
“Who is this?” Nabokov finally asks, turning his attention toward you. Dazai doesn’t like the way he looks at you, eyes raking over you like you’re a piece of meat.
“My partner.” To Dazai’s credit, his voice is much smoother than the turbulent emotions in his chest would suggest. “Where is your wife, Nabokov?” 
Nabokov doesn’t even respond to the question, laughing loudly. “Never thought I’d see the day you found yourself a lover, Dazai,” he chuckles and then holds his hand out to you. “Vladimir Nabokov.”
You shift a bit to take his hand, but Dazai is faster, lithe fingers wrapping around Nabokov’s wrist in an agonizingly tight grip. Nabokov winces, Dazai’s face is cold as he stares down at the man.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” he warns, keeping his voice low. 
Vladimir Nabokov. Invitation to a Beheading. An ability that grants its user to draw a target into an interdimensional space through physical touch—Dazai isn’t sure what the space entails because no one has ever left it alive.
Nabokov tries to laugh it off, weaker this time as he takes his hand back and shakes out his wrist. “My, Dazai, possessive, aren’t you?”
“Very,” Dazai agrees idly. “Be sure to remember that.”
Nabokov gives him another wavering smile, and Dazai can’t help but wonder how Dostoevsky could have possibly thought anyone would believe the man could head the tripartite alliance of the Pale Flame, Three Deaths, and the House of the Dead. Anyone with half of a brain would know that Dostoevsky is behind their union. Maybe that’s what he wanted, Dazai notes absently as he watches Nabokov’s gaze flicker to the upper left corner of the room. Dazai follows it to where a camera is positioned, encompassing most of the event hall. 
The smile on his lips is nearly as chilly as the air-conditioned room around him.
There you are. 
Dazai’s gaze cuts back to Kouyou, who’s standing a few feet behind you and Dazai with Chuuya, Ace and Piano Man. The woman inclines her head in recognition of his silent order as she fans her face lightly, taking a step away to make a call to Hirotsu, who should be stationed around the building with the rest of the Black Lizards by now, prepared to move in at the first sign of danger.
Nabokov looks as if he’s going to speak again, which inclines Dazai to believe that he’s seeking something out in particular for Dostoevsky, and from the way he keeps glancing at you, Dazai assumes it has to do with you. So as the man's lips waver, eyes darting as he tries to formulate another conversation opener, Dazai speaks before he can get the words out.
“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice cold and clipped as he all but dismisses Nabokov, who flushes a bit, nodding and apologizing before stepping away. 
Dazai realizes that he probably has not prepped you enough for this event, but in his defense, he’s been swamped with his own preparations and how is he supposed to prepare you when he can’t even fully explain all of the dangers? But now, it’s making him anxious, because at some point tonight he’s going to have to step away from you to meet with Nabokov in one of the backrooms, likely with Tolstoy, Cao, and Mishima. Dazai’s executives will have to be there with him, and Tachihara is supposed to slip from the shadows to join you while you wait for his return, but there’s likely going to be at least a good two to three minutes where you’ll be alone until Tachihara can get to you. That’s assuming he doesn’t get caught up on the way over.
He needs to talk to you, at least warn you about the ability users attending the event so you don’t accidentally stumble into a potentially lethal situation without him around.
If he goes to the bar, Tolstoy will take advantage to try to sweep you into a conversation, picking up right where Nabokov left off. If he goes off to the left side of the room, Cao will make his way over to interrupt. If he goes off to the right side of the room, Mishima is there. The only place… Dazai inhales as his gaze focuses on the massive dance floor of the event hall, dozens of couples are spinning around already, and it will be loud enough there for the music to drown out his conversation with you from unwelcome listeners. 
He turns his attention to you, holding his palm up and tucking one arm behind his back as he asks lightly, “May I have this dance?” 
Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, seemingly hyper aware of all of the hungry, curious glances of the other attendants directed your way, but he’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes glitter beneath the chandelier’s lights, and the way your dress clings to your body, and the way a soft smile tugs at your lips. He thinks that even if you hadn’t entered the event on his arm, all of the room’s attention would be on you still, because you’re beautiful, and captivating, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how he managed to pull you in one lifetime, much less all of them. 
You place your hand in his and Dazai guides you across the floor, intent on finding the perfect space. It’s hardly obvious the way that the other people on the dance floor would inch away as the two of you passed by, intent on staying out of Dazai’s way and letting him have whatever space he wants, but you pick up on it, he thinks, seeing the curious look in your eyes as your gaze sweeps around the people around you. He bites back a sigh, because he’s sure that you’re tallying everything up in your head trying to put it all together, and once you get that final puzzle piece, everything will be over.
His chest sinks at the thought of losing you, but he forces it away. He has to focus on the situation at hand because even a single slip up could be fatal—not only for him, but for you too. As soon as he reaches a suitable spot on the dance floor, he tugs you a bit closer to him, hands sliding down to your waist. Your own arms instantly come up to loop around his neck as you look up at him through your lashes and Dazai suddenly feels breathless, vision tunneling and heartbeat stuttering at the way you look at him.
God, how is he supposed to focus with you around? He can hardly concentrate on anything but you. He’s flying too close to the sun. Has been since the moment he met you. Drawing you into his life and keeping you there, now bringing you here, so many gambles, too many gambles… the heat is scorching, and it’s only a matter of time before his wings burn. If he was smart, he’d let you go so that you don’t burn with him, but his fingers only bite deeper into your waist at the thought.
The music is slow, and the two of you sway in tune to it. The other couples give a wide berth, some casting wary looks at Dazai, ones that he’s sure you’re catching. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to start; what does he tell you that doesn’t condemn him? Luckily, he doesn’t have to start the conversation because you do, for better or for worse.
“Was that man the rival that Gin mentioned?” you ask curiously, and Dazai can’t help but notice there’s a strange look in your eyes as you ask it, one that he can’t place.
He hesitates, but then says, “No. He wasn’t. I haven’t seen him yet.”
You hum lightly, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that makes him shiver. But his eyes narrow when he realizes that you don’t look the slightest bit surprised by his answer. 
“You knew that already,” he accuses lightly, and he forces himself to swallow the lump that suddenly forms in his throat because if you figured that out on your own already, what else have you figured out? God, he knew this was risky, you’ve always been ridiculously perceptive—he just needs to get through tonight without you putting everything together, then he’ll be fine.
“I suspected it,” you finally affirm his accusation, gaze searching his face. “He was nervous talking to you. If he was your rival, I’d expect him to be a bit more… assured. And he kept looking up toward a camera, like he knew someone was watching that he’d have to answer to.”
Oh, you did pick up on a lot more than he expected. He doesn’t think that the smile he gives you quite meets his eyes, if the way your brows furrow have anything to say about it, but he distracts you by bringing his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “That’s my girl, always so smart.”
Your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze, a tell tale sign of you being flustered. His lips quirk up into a more genuine smile, hand dropping back down to your waist. He can do this, he tells himself, he just has to be careful, tell you enough to make sure your guard is up and you know to at least some extent that the people in this room aren’t to be trusted.
“There are a lot of ability users in here,” he finally warns, careful to keep his voice low even with the music covering his words. “Do your best to keep your distance from people. I’ll stay with you as much as I can, but I’m going to get pulled away sooner or later. Chuuya or Piano Man will stay with you when they can, and if they’re pulled away, Tachihara is going to come down to stay with you.”
“... That’s why you didn’t let him shake my hand,” you say, realization flashing through your eyes, another puzzle piece fitting behind your eyes and Dazai has to be careful because it’s only a matter of time before you’re given that final piece and everything comes together. “What’s his ability?” 
“... Nothing good,” he answers after a few moments of silence, but you’re not content with that, brows furrowing. He sighs. “No confirmation on it, we only know it’s lethal. Many are in here.”
Your eyes widen and then you look a bit skeptical. “And you think they would use it here? In public?” you ask slowly.
To Dazai’s horror, it is not skepticism tainting your tone, but rather, you’re fishing for information, trying to put more pieces together, and he doesn’t have much choice but to give you answers because he can’t risk you setting your guard down even for a second.
He chooses his words carefully. “... There is little they wouldn’t do to get ahead in our business.”
“Hm,” is all you say in response, something akin to understanding flashing through your eyes and Dazai dreads to know what his answer has just told you. He feels distinctly like he’s playing chess against an opponent he did not anticipate and he’s at a disadvantage because the opponent is you. He can feel your shoulders slump suddenly, an unfamiliar expression crossing over your face; you look tired, as if you’d aged twenty years in a matter of seconds. “What did you get me involved with, Dazai?” 
You say it so softly that Dazai barely hears it himself, and he knows. He knows that you’ve figured something out, he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t want to know what. He wants to evade it as long as possible, because the moment he has to have this conversation with you, he knows he’ll lose you. He can’t think about that now, it’ll throw him off and this is the last place he can allow himself to be thrown off.
Instead, his grip on your waist tightens again, gaze averting down toward the ground. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The words weigh heavy on his tongue, not just an apology for tonight but an apology for accepting your offer for a drink two months ago, knowing he wouldn’t be strong enough to let it be a single night of indulgence; an apology for seeking you out again afterward, knowing that he would be sentencing you to death.
He feels sick. 
What is he doing?
Why are you here?
What has he done?
“Dazai.”
You say his name but Dazai hardly hears you. God, he can feel it happening, where his fingers are pressed against your body, the skin suddenly goes cold and stiff, his surroundings are blurring, the people fading into the background. This isn’t the place. Nabokov. Tolstoy. Mishima. Cao. He can’t lose himself, not now, but his grip on reality is starting to waver, the pages pile around him. 
“Dazai.”
What has he done?
Everything he’s planned for, seven years of careful calculations and planning gone down the drain. How does he even fix this? Can he fix this? His mind races, but he’s not even sure he’s thinking coherent thoughts, trying to ground himself to the present because he needs to stay here, he can figure out how to fix it later, when you’re not in danger but-
His vision swims. Not now. He can see it—he can see you. Still on the ground. Sometimes there’s blood, so much that he can hardly recognize you (but he can, of course, he can always recognize you, even when your body is littered with more gaping wounds than not). Sometimes it looks like you’re sleeping, so much so that Dazai kneels next to you, begging you to wake up (he knows in his heart that it’s futile. he can’t stop himself from trying). His head spins, he loses track of where he is and then-
“Osamu.”
His breath catches, gaze zeroing in on you. You. Alive. Your brows are furrowed in concern, searching his face to try to draw him back to reality. He thinks his grip on your waist must be painful but he can’t bring himself to loosen it at all. He stares at you, still desperately trying to keep himself grounded because although you’ve brought him back mostly, the corners of the pages still linger in the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him again.
“You can’t leave me,” you tell him quietly. “You brought me here. I need you here with me. Don’t go off somewhere I can’t follow.”
Oh.
He lets out a breath, slow and maybe a bit more shaky than he would’ve liked, but he tries to focus on the situation at hand. He loosens his grip on your waist, rubbing a gentle circle over your hip in an apology.
His gaze drifts around the room, Nabokov is in deep conversation with Cao, hardly paying attention to anything going on, but Cao’s sharp, dark eyes are pointed over Nabokov’s shoulder, scanning the dance floor. He’s looking for someone—not Dazai, which is a bit worrying, and he becomes all the more attentive to everyone in the vicinity, trying to make sure none of the Red Chamber’s assassins made it through the security. If any organization would be able to pull it off, it would be them. 
Once he’s decided the coast is clear, he turns his gaze back to the bar. Tolstoy is looking at him—blue eyes sharp, blonde hair hanging in them, a curious expression on his face as he sips at his drink and watches as Dazai dances with you. As soon as Tolstoy notices Dazai has caught him, his lips curl up into a smirk and he raises his drink. Dazai’s expression is cold as he looks away, seeking out Mishima only to find the man nowhere to be found.
Hm.
Chuuya and Kouyou are entertaining idle conversation with two executives of the Sun and Steel, both keeping a sharp eye on where you and Dazai sway on the dance floor. Piano Man is entertaining several politicians, doing a good job at ensuring that none of the other foreign executives get any chance to get their ears. Ace, Dazai notes, is in deep conversation in the shadows with one of the executives of the Three Deaths. 
Interesting.
He finally draws his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he recalls what you’d said to drag him from his spiral.
Osamu,
“You called me Osamu,” he murmurs, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he focuses on that instead, trying to ease himself back into reality. Technically, he’s heard you say his given name before. Well. Not technically. It was never you and it was never him, rather it was vague memories of other yous and other hims, but it was nothing in comparison to hearing you actually say it.
You look embarrassed, averting your gaze. “I didn’t know how to get your attention, I’m s-”
“Say it again,” he whispers, lifting his hand back up to your chin to tilt your face back up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes search yours, watching the way you can hardly hold his gaze. You look hesitant, so he continues with, “Please.”
“... Osamu,” you say again, breathless, and god, Dazai wishes the two of you were anywhere but here. He wants to press you back against his bed, run his lips up and down your body, map out all of your curves with his hand. He wants to watch you come undone on his tongue and on his fingers—he wants you, he wants you more than anything else in the world. Every time he’s tried to take the next step with you the past few weeks, he either got interrupted by work or he ended up getting cold feet, nervous about making a mistake. 
Before his thoughts can spiral even more, the music picks up to a faster paced waltz. Your eyes widen, watching as all of the other couples shift into the respective dance. You look up at him, a bit panicked, clearly not sure what to do, and his lips curl up in amusement, beckoning you to lace your fingers with his to take the stance the other couples were taking.
“I don’t know this da-” you begin, voice hushed.
“Just follow my lead,” he repeats the same words he spoke to you when they entered the hall. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”
You exhale, studying his face for a moment before sighing and mimicking the stance the other women took with their partners. He can feel your fingers wavering against his as he interlocks your fingers and he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he tells you, just as the music finally picks up for the dance to start. 
He thinks you’re worried for nothing. You moved smoothly in line with him and in tune with the music, gliding across the dance floor as if you’ve danced with him hundreds of times before, your body so in sync with his that the two of you put all of the other couples to shame. Not that any of them matter, of course, you’re all that Dazai can focus on. Your eyes never leave his, not even for the sparest of moments, and Dazai feels like he’s caught in a trance, lost in your eyes and the feeling of your body so close to his, hyper aware of the way your your hand rests on his shoulder and the way your fingers are wrapped tight around his.
God, there’s something so otherworldly about you. Doesn’t know if it’s heavenly or supernatural, if you’re his angel sent to lead him to salvation or his very own siren singing a sweet melody to lead him to ruin. Doesn’t think he cares either way—salvation, damnation, none of it matters as long as he has you.
“Not so bad, hm?” he murmurs, sweeping you out into a spin before pulling you back to him, closer this time. He can feel your chest brush his and he prays you can’t feel the way he’s lost control of his heart, painfully cognizant of the erratic thumping. His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, holding you close to him. He could stay in this moment forever, surroundings drowning out; all he can see is you, all that matters is you.
“Yeah,” you say softly. “Not so bad.”
His lips part to respond but he’s interrupted when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, freezing.
“Dazai.”
Dazai stiffens as a familiar voice speaks from behind him, shifting to stand partially in front of you as his gaze cuts to the side to see Mishima’s familiar figure standing a few feet away. Turning to face him, he asks, “Do you need something?”
“I’d like to speak to you before we meet with Tolstoy, Nabokov and Cao.”
Mishima’s voice leaves no room for argument, dark eyes absent of any emotion as he waits for Dazai to follow him. Dazai’s jaw tightens, eyes drifting back to you as he tries to figure out what to do. He can’t leave you here, not with Cao’s hawk-like gaze trained on the dancefloor and Tolstoy waiting for the opportunity to make a move. But he does need to talk to Mishima, have some idea of where he stands with the Sun and Steel before facing all of the foreigners. 
“May I have this dance?” 
Dazai hadn’t even heard Chuuya approach, turning to the side to watch as he holds a hand out toward you expectantly, quick to step in to take Dazai’s place so that you’re not alone. You shoot Dazai a concerned glance, brows furrowing a bit, before you place your hand in Chuuya’s.
Chuuya leads you back onto the dance floor, Dazai’s gaze lingers for a few moments, a bitter feeling spreads through his chest because that should be him, and it’s wholly unfair that he has to deal with all of this unsavory business when he should be spending time with you.
He should just kill them all here and be done with it.
The words ring through his head, echoing, tempting. He inhales and forces himself to look away as you loop your arms around Chuuya’s shoulders, swaying in tune to the slow song playing. He turns his attention back to Mishima, voice cool and expression void of emotion:
“Speak.”
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Dancing with Nakahara Chuuya is awkward. Awkward is even being generous. It’s not like he’s a bad dancer—in fact, it’s clear that he’s a very good one. He’s smooth on his feet as he spins you around the dance floor, but he’s so stiff. He’s careful to keep space between the two of you, hands never dipping lower than your sides, lips pressed together. He hardly even looks at you, his attention is more on where Dazai had stepped to the side to speak with the dark-haired man who’d interrupted the two of you, but you’re grateful for it, because it’s giving you a chance to gather your thoughts.
You think Dazai might’ve inadvertently confirmed your suspicions from yesterday. You don’t know who these people are, but there’s no way any ordinary business event would be dangerous enough for Dazai to genuinely worry that someone might kill you in a room crowded with two hundred people. A part of you wonders if it’s just different for ability users, that they’re not scared of committing crimes in public because they have an ability that prevents them from getting caught, but you know you’re just trying to make excuses at this point.
Your gaze drifts back over to the older, light-haired man with dark eyes who’d approached you and Dazai when you walked in. He’s off to the side talking with a Chinese man dressed in a red suit—your gaze lingers, trying to piece together the puzzle in your head desperately, but all of the edges are jagged and confusing, you can’t seem to figure out where they each fit with each other. 
You’d thought maybe that Dazai and his business was somehow affiliated with the mafia, because no one with the amount of money and success that he has gets it cleanly, but now you can’t help but hesitate, reconsidering your original theory. Vladimir Nabokov had been scared of Dazai. And it’s not like you haven’t noticed the effect that Dazai has on people. Whenever you’re around people with him, they get tense and on edge, but it’s different seeing the effect he has on someone who doesn’t even work for him, a foreigner supposed to be one of Dazai’s associates if you understood what he meant about not showing up to a meeting. 
Who are you, Dazai?
You don’t even know if you want to know. You love Dazai. You do. You knew it earlier in the night. You know it now. It’s something you can no longer hide or deny. You remember the concerned look on his face when he saw how upset you were. You can feel the way his lips brushed the nape of your neck as he explained why he kept meeting you at the club, the way he kissed your ankles as he knelt in front of you and told you how he was selfish for keeping you around, how he kissed your palm and leaned into your touch as he promised you anything you want. God, you love him, you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he does; no one has ever spoken to you the way he does. 
You love him, and it scares you because you’re realizing you still don’t know anything about him, not really, and you’re also realizing that there’s a high chance he’s been lying to you about what he does. It scares you even more that your first instinct isn’t to run. Because you should run. This should make you run. He brought you to an event with people so dangerous that he’s afraid they might try to hurt you, or worse, but you don’t want to run, because you’d be running from him and you don’t want to run from him. 
Could you sacrifice everything for him though?
Fuck your morals—everything you’ve worked for, all of the years slaving away to put yourself on the path to success. You’ve told yourself your entire life that it would be all you would focus on, that it would all be worth it in the end. You convinced yourself that maybe if you proved yourself enough, your brother would return to your life; he’d be proud of you and he’d come back to you. You know he’s still out there somewhere, you get letters with no return address every month—the only thing in the envelope is a check with a dubious amount of money, but it’s in his hand writing, so you know it’s him. 
A part of you wants to cry, frustration clawing at your chest: the future you’ve worked so hard for, or love? The question you’ve dreaded since your epiphany yesterday is finally thrown right in front of your face, and you need an answer. The two are mutually exclusive—you will not be able to pursue the career you want with Dazai Osamu, not in the way you want at least. And you don’t want to do all of this work to just end up being another shady politician.
“Penny for your thoughts?” 
Your gaze snaps up to Chuuya, who’s suddenly looking at you, and you don’t really know how to respond. 
I’m pretty sure you guys are part of the fucking Mafia and you’re all hiding it from me, but also I don’t want to know if you are because that’s going to force me to make a decision that I don’t want to make so I’d rather live in ignorance. 
“My thoughts are only worth a penny?” You deflect with a grin instead, hoping it meets your eyes.
It doesn’t, evidently, because Chuuya’s eyes narrow a bit, and then he tilts his head to the side and hits you with a more direct: “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just worried,” you finally say, not entirely lying but also not telling the truth. 
“About?” Chuuya presses and you sigh, exhaling a bit.
“He mentioned that there were dangerous people here,” you tell him quietly. “I’m just nervous for when you guys go to your meeting… I’m guessing it’s going to be soon.”
Chuuya’s brows furrow and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes before he speaks again. “You’ll be fine,” he tells you. “We have people all over the event hall, and Tachihara is going to sit with you until you Dazai can get back. Dazai shouldn’t have worried you with all of this. He shouldn’t have even-”
He cuts himself off, jaw tightening, but you know what he’s going to say: he shouldn’t have even brought you here.
“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Chuuya says quietly, and you think he might be talking more to himself than anything else now, but you listen anyway. “He’s always been hard to read but this is…”
He stops speaking out loud, as if he’s realized that you’re there again, and instead he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine. Back at the headquarters before you know it.”
You aren’t so sure.
Your gaze drifts to the side as you watch Nabokov and the Chinese man make their way over to Dazai and the man he’s talking to. The blonde at the bar that Dazai kept looking at also stands up, drink in his hand as walks in the same direction. 
Chuuya spits out a curse under his breath and gives you an apologetic look. Your heart sinks and your throat feels a bit tight—he doesn’t abandon you right away though, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he guides you across the dancefloor to the bar, all the while keeping a keen eye on what’s happening on the other side of the room.
He pulls the barstool out for you, eyes still trained on where Dazai is standing with Kouyou, two men that work for him you haven’t met yet, and the four men you assume are business associates of his. Dazai is looking at you, an indecipherable expression on his face. You’re looking at him, suddenly anxious at the thought of being left alone, a bad feeling sweeping over you. 
“Tachihara will be over here soon,” Chuuya finally says to you, tearing his gaze from his coworkers to look back down at you. He flags down the bartender to order a drink for you. “You’ll be fine. Knowing Dazai, the meeting won’t last long anyway.”
Your shoulders only slump a bit as you nod, thanking the bartender quietly for your drink as he hurries to bring it back to you, taking a sip of it. Chuuya doesn’t say much else—once you’re settled in your seat and have your drink, he squeezes your shoulder before making his way back over to the intimidating group of people standing on the opposite side of the room.
Your gaze meets Dazai’s conflicted one one last time before he’s forced to turn away and disappears down a side hall deeper into the building. You sigh as you twirl your drink around, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the brim of your glass as your eyes twist around the event hall, seeking out Tachihara, or Atsushi, or anyone that works with Dazai because you’re feeling distinctly vulnerable alone. You find none of them. You can feel eyes on you—most you’re sure are harmless curiosity, wanting to know who exactly came in on the arm of Dazai Osamu, but you know some aren’t nearly as harmless, you can feel the hungry stares of vicious opportunists directed at your back and you don’t feel comfortable sitting alone.
You don’t even get five minutes to yourself.
“Is this seat taken?” 
You’re startled by the unfamiliar voice, head snapping to the side. Your gaze focuses on a pretty man with soft features, shoulder-length black hair and gentle purple eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no words leave them, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. He looks harmless enough, but there’s something about him that has you on edge—something simmering beneath the surface of his deceptive eyes that you can’t quite place but you know you don’t like.
“I mean no harm,” he says smoothly, lips curving up into an amiable smile. “I’m an old friend of Dazai’s. I only want to talk.”
An old friend. You don’t buy it, but you don’t want to risk antagonizing him, Dazai’s warning about the many lethal ability users prowling the event ringing through your head. You just hope that Tachihara shows up sooner rather than later as you finally shake your head.
“It’s not taken,” you say quietly, motioning to the stool as you take another generous sip of your drink.
The dark-haired man smiles at you as he takes a seat at the bar next to you, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the lighting of the chandelier. Instantly, you feel like you’ve made a mistake, a chill running down your spine as your eyes meet purple ones that are not quite so gentle anymore. Sharp and shrewd instead. Calculating. Dangerous. 
“Fyodor Dostoevsky. A pleasure, truly.”
304 notes · View notes
dalliancekay · 1 day
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We've been talking for millions of years
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Aziraphale was clearly taken by Angel!Crowley from the moment he met him. I think the 6000 years could be read as when the whole human breeding thing starts. Even God says there's been many nice days in the Garden. How many? The count didn't start until the day they left Eden I think. When we meet Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley in Before the Beginning, Earth was still an idea in the works. And the War didn't happen. Or Crowley surely would have been more cautious. So I hope they have met and talked and Crowley grumbled about how unfair it all was.
And Aziraphale tried to placate him that it will all work out somehow, there’s a Plan. And they kept meeting, Crowley showing Aziraphale the prettiest corners of the universe, Aziraphale telling Crowley exciting developments re: Earth.
I wouldn’t try to guess at how far their relationship has gone… maybe relationships of the kind we know now weren’t invented yet and still, these two loved each other without knowing anything about it. After all, no other angels seem to have ANY relationships of any kind. Apart from higher or lower levels of condescension towards each other.
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Then the Great War came and tore them apart. After knowing each other for millions of years and their close more-than-friendship, their world falls apart. After all, Crowley tried to do the right thing. And Aziraphale did too but it wasn’t to be. Yet. But. Their story wasn’t finished yet.
Aziraphale is relieved when he’s sent down to Earth to guard the brand new humans from the demons he has heard that the damned angels have been turned into. He’s a bit fearful about the whole thing but glad to be away and keen, if a bit anxious to see the project he’s discussed/worked on for so long.
Crowley hates Hell. He hates it cos it’s not what he wanted or what he thought he was joining. He has been lied to. He’s not regretting his decision to turn his back on Heaven, no. He still thinks they’ve made too many crappy decisions. But he despises what the Rebellion became.
When Beelzebub asks for a volunteer to go up to the new planet and tempt the fresh innocent human couple into joining them, he volunteers, even if only to escape the claustrophobic walls and the mess nobody ever clears up.
Tempting comes easy to him. He imagines talking to his lost friend. ‘But why wouldn’t you try fruit from this one tree. What’s the problem with knowing things anyway? Wouldn’t you want to decide by yourself Eve? And Eve does make a decision.
Crowley’s worried now. Not for himself. He’s without hope but did he hurt humans by doing this. He didn’t mean to. He doesn’t really want them to go to Hell. Or Heaven for that matter. He only thinks they should be free to make their own choices. If only he had someone to talk to.
He spotted a distant angel earlier. Reminded him of, of… the light hair...anyway. They held a flaming sword but surely he can dodge that if needs be. He could just try for a simple chat. He has no idea how demons are talked about in Heaven. But he guesses the angel might just try to smite him. Worth the risk. Everything feels so raw and strange here. Maybe stealing a bit of familiarity will help him settle his nerves.
He decides to slither over and ask how the angel feels about what’s been done. Will they be furious. Hurt? Guilty? Oh. It’s him. It’s too late now. Always too late. It’s him. Aziraphale. Aziraphale. It is HIS angel. What is he going to do. FUCK! Well. No better way to find out. He could just tease him like the old times. What's the worst that can happen.
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Shitfuck but he smells good. These new senses will take a while to get used to: “Well that went down like a lead balloon.” A lead balloon? Whatthefuck even is that. Oh for Someone's sake.
Aziraphale’s standing on top of the Garden wall, squeezing his fingers with worry - what exactly has happened. What has possessed him to give away his sword. Did he disappoint God? Heaven? It doesn’t FEEL wrong to help them. If only he had someone to talk to.
Another angel? What. A snake? Oh. Oh. They are changing. Could it be? His heart will surely explode into million pieces…!!!! A lead balloon?!? “Sorry what was that?” Does he remember me? I think he does. I think he does. He’s here. As lovely as always.
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I’ll keep him safe. Safe. I will keep him safe this time.
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jinwoosungs · 2 days
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{ 155 }
follow you.
jinwoo sung x fem.reader
{ i will follow you way down wherever you may go | i'll follow you way down to your deepest low | i'll always be around wherever life takes you | you know i'll follow you... }
anonymous said: Is it possible to have a scenario with Jinwoo where f.reader is dealing with a co-worker in his 50s at work who makes her uncomfortable by making inappropriate remarks in his conversations with her and never respects her personal space, she isn't scared of him but he makes her anxious and nervous at his sight for 7 months straight...and she doesn't tell Jinwoo until he starts noticing that she spaces out more often lost in her thoughts. (Its a true event that happened to me at my work and I hope you can write a comforting scenario for it😮‍💨 also eager to see more of protective Jinwoo 😏)
lately, you found yourself dreading the thought of going to work.
you were a young woman who was a regular civilian in this world filled with hunters, gates, and monsters. ever since these strange gates began to appear all across the world, thousands of people awakened with this unique ability to combat against these threats-
your boyfriend being one of these well known hunters.
however, you were not one of those special humans that had awakened with these abilities.
which was why you worked a regular office job in the midst of the city. and your job was by no means too difficult-
however, there was just one tiny issue with your workplace-
and that came in the form of your highly persistent coworker.
he was a balding man that appeared to be in his mid-50s named ryung. the moment your assigned cubicle was directly next to him, the man made it his life's mission to constantly flirt with you. in between breaks, he would find you and proceed to talk to you, all while placing lingering touches against your arm or shoulder.
"you're so beautiful, hehe."
"you say you have a boyfriend, but i don't believe he's serious about you. hell, if i were 30 years younger, i would have snatched you up and put a ring on that pretty little finger of yours!"
"damn, your ass looks fine in that skirt..."
hearing such constant remarks was enough to make you shudder.
despite the many times you told him you had a boyfriend (that also worked as a powerful hunter!), the man refused to back off. and the fact that this had been going on for nearly 7 months now made it so much worse for you.
now, you were filled with anxiety when ryung casually saunters up to your cubicle. even during the times where you purposely ignored him, the man would simply proceed to linger outside of your cubicle, forcing you to listen to his heavy breathing and crazed mutterings, only walking away when the sounds of your other coworkers approaching forces him to make his retreat.
you thought about turning in your letter of resignation several times, but always decided against it, since this was a good job that paid well-
and you didn't want your boyfriend to do all the heavy lifting when it came to your shared finances.
being so caught up with your thoughts, you couldn't even touch the breakfast your boyfriend had made for you, making him frown in response. he calls out your name several times, but you remain completely unresponsive to him.
"sarang." he calls out your nickname while brushing the ice cold glass of orange juice against your cheek. the sudden, icy sensation felt against your skin successfully manages to break you out of your thoughts, forcing to face your boyfriend's concerned gaze.
"jinwoo... what is it?"
jinwoo sighs before running a hand through his hair, placing the glass of orange juice back on the table. "i was asking you if you were okay for several minutes now, and you just recently responded to me. is something bothering you? i noticed that you haven't been yourself lately... ever since you started your job at that company."
you shift around uncomfortably in your seat, feeling as though you were being interrogated by jinwoo.
"it's nothing, jin. just-"
"bullshit it's nothing."
jinwoo then casually sits back in his seat with his arms crossed, his voice coming out as strained as he was clearly trying to control his anger.
"has ryung been bothering you again?"
your mouth goes dry, meeting jinwoo's gaze with wide eyes.
"h-how did you know about that?"
a smirk paints his handsome features. "have you forgotten just who your lover is?"
ah, that's right... he was the shadow monarch. he probably placed a bunch of his soldiers within your shadow and saw what was going on through their eyes.
"i could always have bellion rip through him for you?" jinwoo asks you while letting out a series of rich chuckles, but you were only half-certain that he was simply joking.
"n-no, you don't need to go that far. ryung is harmless... but a nuisance."
jinwoo hums before gesturing at your plate of breakfast. "come on, go ahead and finish eating. i'm going to take you to work."
"oh, you don't need to, jinwoo-"
"sarang, please, i insist."
with his voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness, you could no longer deny him. letting out a sigh, you give him a nod before returning your attention back to the delicious breakfast jinwoo had prepared for you.
you spend the next thirty minutes making small talk with your boyfriend, setting up plans for the upcoming weekend while being filled with an eagerness for the end of the week. once you finished eating and jinwoo had washed all the plates did he grab his keys. smoothing out your blouse and skirt, you grab your own briefcase while walking out the door with jinwoo.
throughout the whole drive to your workplace, jinwoo holds on to your hand while keeping his other hand on the steering wheel. during every stop light, he brings the back of your hand up against his lips, giving it a sweet kiss while basking in your joyful giggles.
soon enough, jinwoo arrives and parks in front of your office building, unbuckling his seat belt before heading out to open the door for you. seeing him smiling down at you, you give him his hand and allow him to walk with you into the building.
upon entering your workplace, several people recognized jinwoo and immediately greet him (all while trying to hold back their awe). your boyfriend keeps his hand on yours, simply returning their greetings with a smile before escorting you to the elevators.
the ride to the twentieth floor was filled with eager giggles and soft kisses, and you quickly felt your anxieties melt away. a few seconds later, the elevator doors slide open as you and jinwoo walked into the floor where you usually worked.
but instead of allowing you to enter your cubicle, he places a hand behind your back, leading you directly towards ryung's office space.
as if sensing you, the older man looks away from his computer screen, raspy voice calling out your name in an almost possessive manner when he faces you-
only to let out a desperate gasp when jinwoo uses his powers to lift ryung off the ground.
"ack!"
"jinwoo!"
but jinwoo ignores your sudden cries of his name, eyes glowing a bright purple hue as he continues to lift ryung mid-air with his telekinesis. choked sounds were heard coming from the man, and your mind was spinning, becoming filled with a sudden panic-
you didn't want jinwoo to get in trouble because of this man!
"if you continue to flirt with my lover so shamelessly like that ever again, i'll kill you."
within seconds, jinwoo releases his invisible grip on ryung, causing the older man to land on his knees for him. he was coughing, with tears filling his vision as the fear was evident in his eyes. completely ignoring ryung, jinwoo turns his attention back to you all while giving you a sweet smile.
"come, i'll take you back to your cubicle, sarang."
you give jinwoo an exasperated sigh, running your hips against his all while whispering to him, "you're insane, using your powers on him like that...?!"
"so what? i put the fear of the shadow monarch into him. there's no way he would dare to flirt with you now."
as if on cue, you hear ryung let out a whimper while pretending to type something on his computer. you shake your head at jinwoo, but still accept his kiss when he leans down toward you.
only after he was satisfied with your kiss did jinwoo pull away from you. "call me when you're done with your shift, and i'll pick you up."
you give him one last nod, watching as jinwoo leaves your office before deciding to login to your own computer, ready to start your day with a confident smile on your face, secretly grateful for jinwoo's intervention as you were certain ryung would leave you alone now.
{ ... }
the next morning, when you came into work and saw that ryung's cubicle was completely emptied of his belongings, confirming your coworker's mention of his sudden resignation-
that was when you let out a relieved sigh while giggling slightly.
perhaps you would need to treat jinwoo to something nice after all.
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a.n. - hhhhh more double updates because i love jinwoo soooo much! 😭
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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imshii-kin · 2 days
Text
Good Luck
Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader
I made this a bit ago so have mercy :,)
Wattpad
Summary : Y/n, who recently taken an interest in the DC universe, finds themself in that very universe after a little roadkill accident.
Prologue, Chapter # 1 (you are here)
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It'd had been an hour since you woke up and gained your past life memories. In that time, you have made four deductions on your current situation.
One, you died.
Two, you hate trucks with a passion.
Three, your memories of your 'current life' are completely gone.
"What do you think could've caused this Lois? She was completely fine yesterday." A man with dark hair and blue eyes was currently pacing around his apartment. The man's name was Clark Kent.
And four, you were part of the Kent family.
You were in the DC universe
__
'...I didn't even get to finish Security Breach.' You thought as you watched your 'parents' talk. They were discussing your current situation regarding 'your' memory's. 
In all honesty you were currently freaking. Out of all the universes to be reincarnated you got one of the most dangerous universes out there. Why couldn't you be reincarnated in a chick
 Lois was trying to talk to you, but you were currently already having an existential crisis.
So, you, justifiably, didn't feel like talking to people.
So now it was Clarks turn to try and talk to you. "Y/n, can you tell us what could have happened? If you can't, I'll have to contact Bruce to see if we can get J'onn to help you out." 
You thought for a moment. How would these people react to the fact that you had a past life. More importantly, how would they react if they knew that it was most likely the fact that you regain your past life memories caused your current ones to be erased. 
But as much as you wanted to come up with an excuse you couldn't think of one.
Clark sighed disappointedly, "I guess I'll have to call Bruce." He cringed when he mentioned Bruce's name.
That's never a good sign.
__ 
"What do you mean 'No' Bruce!?" Clark yelled at the billionaire, who was trying to calm down and reason with the hero. 
"Clark, I just think you're going a little overboard, let me take her back to Gotham. I can use my computers and resources that are stored in the bat cave to figure out what's wrong." Bruce explained. "We don't need to summon the justice league for this." While watching the argument, you notice Bruce's extreme reluctance to meet up with the league. 
Wonder why that is.
Clark runs a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. "Why would I let my daughter go to Gotham, for all I know, you're going to turn her into one of your robins and get her killed, just like Jason!"
Oh damn, this was getting interesting.
You were enjoying the argument between Bruce and Clark, that was until you felt a tape on your shoulder. Turning around, you see it was Jon, and he had quite the troubled look on his face. "Y/n," He started, "if you had the choice, would you go with Bruce?" He asked you.
"I don't know." You say with a straight face.
Obviously, you were lying.
You would absolutely go with Bruce. He's rich, he lives in a mansion, and he has resources that may be able to help you find a way home. 
Also, for all you knew, you could be in a version of the Justice Lords, or Injustice. Bruce's strained relationship with the League sort of pointed to those possibility
You hear footsteps approaching you from behind, you turn around to see an irritated Clark approaching you. "Well, she luckily doesn't have a choice. She isn't going." He huffed.
"..." 
"Clark, do you want her to get the best treatment or not?" Surprisingly, Lois spoke up this time. Sighing, she took Clark's hand.
"Bruce won't turn her into a Robin, plus she'll be in one of the most protected places in Gotham, getting the best treatment she could ever get. I think we should let Bruce take her until we figure out what, or... who caused this."
'...why is everyone in this god damn world so mellow dramatic?' You look at them with a mixture of disappointment and boredom.
"Fine, but if he can't fix this in one month, we'll take her back immediately."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Game scale!!
Rules For Our Lovely Game!! 
Rule number one! Never go above 55%.
Rule number two! If you do go above 55%, R U N
Rule number three! Stay alive.
Clark Kent: 39%
What can I say, nothing beats a parent's love.
Lois: 39%
Seems healthy to me.
Jon: 34%
Yup! Seems like kids are the more sensible ones.
Bruce: 15%
Don't worry it'll go up, but be sensible, you two just met.
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ecliphttlunar · 1 day
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If you are not - Chris Sturniolo
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Summary: you had been separated for weeks, and you were both suffering, and you wanted each other, until all this suffering ended when you had the chance to meet again once again.
Warnings: angst, comfort, kisses, mention of unrequited love, cute
Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors. This is part 2 of Friends
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
Since that night, Chris has been losing his mind, and you've been trying to convince yourself that you did the right thing.
You two were lost in a maze of emotions, Chris was missing you, and he was going crazy.
And you were wondering what was wrong with you when you left.
This loneliness was making you cold.
Chris tried not to let it get him down, going out to parties, talking and hooking up with girls.
For others, you had become just another person.
But Chris knew better.
He was always, even though he knew it was wrong, comparing other girls to you.
They weren't pretty like you.
They weren't fun like you.
They weren't as nice as you, they didn't get along as well with his brothers as you did, they didn't stay in his head like you did, they didn't have your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, the soft hair like yours, the features of your face like yours.
They weren't you.
Chris was now with his friends and brothers, all on the couch watching a movie while drops of water fell to the ground and thunder accompanied the rain.
You were always afraid of storms, always finding comfort in Chris's arms, his soft voice in your ear, and the stupid jokes that made you laugh.
But now you weren't in his arms, and Chris began to feel afraid of the storm, the terrifying sounds the thunder made.
Looking out the window, watching the rain fall, he realized that, again, he was thinking about you.
But he couldn't be surprised by it.
He was obsessed with you.
What had you done with him?
And he felt it again, that poison inside him.
Longing. He missed you.
And you? You were lying in your bed, with a blanket over your body to keep you warm, but you still felt cold.
You were cold, alone, and scared to sleep.
Because whenever you slept, you remembered those eyes.
Those damn eyes.
Whenever you slept, it felt like you went back in time, always having the same dream.
First, you saw his eyes.
He was there, in front of you, smiling at you, you were holding hands, and soon you hugged each other, your lips touched and your hand went to his hair.
Until you woke up and realized it was all a dream.
Just a dream.
And now, you were scared to sleep.
You knew that in your thoughts, he would remain, at all times you would remember the sparkle in those eyes.
You closed your eyes and couldn't forget him.
Damn gods.
You thought about him, even when you were with someone.
Attractive, fun men, they knew how to talk to you, they made you laugh.
But the story was always the same.
At some point or another, you would start comparing that man to Chris.
You always thought about him.
Even though you were with someone, you thought.
It wasn't him.
You were losing your mind, going completely crazy, feeling different emotions at the same time.
Until one day, destiny brought you together again.
And finally you realized.
It was inevitable.
The destiny had already been written.
It was supposed to be you and Chris.
It all happened when Nick asked you to participate in a new video.
And you said yes.
You knew you should say no.
But everything was a disaster, and you just wanted to see him.
Find out how he is.
And you couldn't wait any longer, and now you were 5 minutes away from loving him again.
One last time.
You parked your car in front of their house but stayed in the car.
His hands shook as they gripped the steering wheel tightly.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, finally getting out of the car and walking towards the front door of the house.
You had been standing in front of the door for more than 5 minutes, trying to find the courage to knock.
Your hand was shaking as you raised it for the tenth time, about to knock on the door.
But you lowered it again, and raised it, and repeated these movements several times.
Until, before you had time to understand what you were doing, you knocked on the door.
After a few seconds it opened, revealing him.
Chris.
He swallowed hard, not believing the ghost in front of him.
You were really there.
When Nick said you were coming for the new video, Chris froze, and thought it was a lie.
But he remembered that his brothers didn't know exactly what had happened between you, so for you to show up at his house was something that could happen.
And there you were, in front of him.
Chris had prepared a speech for you, and now, this speech was going through his mind, he needed to talk to you.
It was simple, he just needed to say it, but it felt like their lips had been glued together.
Even if he tried, they wouldn't open up.
He froze in place.
Until his lips came loose, and he stood there in front of you, opening and closing his mouth.
You were confused.
And he was embarrassed, he was making a fool of himself now, in front of you.
He just closed his lips and eyes tightly, lowering his head.
He stayed in that position for a while, and when a small spark of courage appeared, still with his head down, he whispered.
"I'm sorry" the first words of the speech had been spoken, and now, he just needed to say the rest.
And now, he thought it would be a little easier, he had managed to start, he just needed to finish.
But he couldn't, because he forgot all the words he had prepared as soon as he raised his head and saw your watery eyes.
You didn't want to cry, but as soon as those words escaped his mouth, and you realized the conversation they were going to have, you couldn't help it, you tried to remain firm, but your eyes started to water.
His heart broke when he saw you in that fragile state.
But he needed to continue, even if it was difficult, he needed to, because you had given him permission to talk, you were listening to him, and he wanted, he needed to have you back.
So, he continued, even though he didn't know what he was saying, he continued, transforming all these emotions he felt these last few weeks into words.
"I'm sorry, I.." he closes his eyes.
Now it was his emotions that were trying to surface, his voice broke and he wondered if he could speak.
He needed to speak. Or he would lose you again, and maybe he wouldn't have another chance like this.
He lets out a shaky breath, and continues.
"I'm normally not the type of person to stay up all night thinking about someone, but since that night, I haven't been able to sleep, it's kind of hard to sleep peacefully, when your heart is on the line, the truth is I'm going through hell since you left, because in my head it's always been you, my heart is in your hands, desperate because no one can take it from you, you're on my damn mind and I can't fight it."
You tried to hold back the tears, but at this point you were already sobbing, because you were going through hell too.
You were feeling the same way he felt.
He approaches you, and when you don't back away, he takes your face in his hands.
He takes a deep breath, trying to control his emotions.
At that moment, he was handing you a knife, while you held his heart.
Waiting to see what you would do.
Whether you would throw away the knife, and keep his heart, or whether you would kill him.
"I'm tired of playing with myself, thinking there's someone else, I dated girls, and I tried to write the story my way, but if it's not you, it's a lie."
“Chris” You whisper his name but he stops you.
You were so close now, noses touching, lips millimeters apart.
"I'm sorry for not realizing sooner, for not telling you that I loved you, I'm so sorry." He whispers.
You breathe, calling his name again, and again, and again.
You were a wreck.
"I thought it was some kind of one-sided love, unrequited love." You whisper.
"No honey, I just didn't realize it, but now I see it, I love you."
You let out a small laugh, finding it funny what the lack of communication did to you.
"I love you too Chris."
And with those 4 words, Chris felt his heart beat again, faster than ever.
You still loved him.
Chris felt the air returning to his lungs as he smiled.
You missed that smile.
Of course, you and Chris knew that everything wasn't resolved, you would have to talk more, resolve some other things that hadn't yet been resolved, and explain a lot of things to each other.
But at that moment, you just wanted him to dry your tears and kiss you.
And that's exactly what he did.
He kissed you, but it wasn't like other times, where you were at a party kissing because of sexual desires.
He kissed you because he loved you. And he put all this love he felt for you into that kiss.
And you like it.
You separated, and looked at each other, both eyes reflecting love.
And in that moment, you understood.
That before, no matter how much you loved each other, you still didn't know how to love.
That's why it was necessary for you to separate, so that you could learn.
And you learned.
You holding each other, smiling at each other, your eyes shining with love, it was proof that you had learned how to love each other.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
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writing-whump · 2 days
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I'm in the fluffiest mood lately, so how about a no stakes sickfic. Movie night and the trip (Matt, Sel/Zaya) are home and decide to put on something like spiderverse or smth else, point being, either Isaiah or Matt gets super motion sick from it
Something fluffy it is. Thank you for the ask, Soup!!💙
Cinema sickness
The middle position was the best.
Matthew didn't notice when exactly they started to fight for it like that, but it was increasingly a place one of them got as special treat.
Like of course, when Isaiah was having his not so heart episodes that Seline still didn't know the cause of or when he was emotional. Then it wad Seline herself with a fever. She also usurped the spot most openly when she was well.
Matthew was a little too embarrassed to be that forward. Not when he was feeling fine.
They bought a camera projector they have been saving for a few months. Seline dreamed about the home cinema early on and Isaiah was such a movie buff, it was only to be expected.
Matthew found the cinema experience tiresome because of all the people, so their own private living room cinema because of the projector? Sounded fun. Though the cinema made for good people training.
"You guys didn't watch the second Spiderverse movie yet, right?" Seline said, taking control of the chromcast with her phone to put it on.
"I didn't see the first one either," Matthew grumbled as she climbed up between him and Isaiah who was scrolling through IMDb. He had a thing for ratings, while Seline loved comments and spoilers.
Matthew considered himself the only sane and commonly invested movie person. He liked to get surprised.
"The animation is out of this world. The first movie got an Oscar for it too, but they went overboard and beyond with the second. Each universe has a different animation style! It's the perfect movie for a cinema." Seline waved her phone in front of Matthew enthusiastically.
"Isn't animation for children?"
Isaiah and Seline both gave him scandalised looks. "In what hole did you live until now for such an outdated opinion?" Isaiah asked teasingly.
Matthew rolled his eyes. Didn't look like he would have a say today.
"I don't think you need the first one to understand," Seline said thoughtfully as she put the movie on. "They explain it pretty well, plus I can always explain things to you if you need it."
"You are still more of a fan of the first one, aren't you?" Isaiah said, bumping against her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, all three of them.
"I think the character development is simply better there? Also the relationships. The focus on bad mentor and a confused kid and different father figured...this one goes more into the romance storyline-"
"The focus just shifts from him to her's all-"
Matthew shook his head. "Alright, quit it. I want to see for myself."
The movie looked like a very expensive video game. The animation really was something else. Matthew understood quickly they would not be able to film stuff like this for real.
So many colours and so much quick movement. Their living room wall was basically flickering, going from one side of the colour spectrum to the next at rapid speed that had his head spinning.
How could there be so much happening on the screen? It was downright impossible to catch it all.
His eyes felt tired from it. It was all so fast and coupled with the music it was downright aggressive.
Matthew didn't notice when, but the left side of his head felt like someone held it in a vice grip. The more he watched and tried to make sense of what was happening, the more his left temple pounded in unison with his heart.
He found himself shaking his head to clear his vision, rubbing at the side of his face. He even tried closing one eye and then the other. But the images just kept coming and there was some kind of dramatic scene with spidermen all over the screen and damn, his head really hurt.
Seline was leaning her head against Isaiah's shoulder, her legs stretched out and touching them both. Her lap seemed very inviting.
Matt leaned to the side experimentally. He wanted to go slow and see how that would be taken, but the possibility of getting some cover from the screen was getting more irresistible by the second.
He slumped down into Seline's lap, twisting so his face was against her stomach. The lights were all over the living room, reaching even to the windows and the kitchen. No hiding from them.
Matthew closed his eyes, face buried in Seline's belly. He secured her from squirming with his arm over her torso, stretched out all the way to Isaiah's tight. If the other wolf wanted to protest or made any move of displeasure, Matt would quickly notice from that position.
His head hurt. Why just the left side of his face? It was tingling.
Everything was moving too much. The dizzying spinning sensation didn't quite go away, although he had his eyes squeezed shut and wasn't looking.
Not to mention he was starting to feel vaguely queasy, his dinner sloshing in his stomach angrily.
"Mattie, you aren't watching," Seline admonished softly. Her hand went into his hair though, petting it softly. He melted under her touch, grateful for a pleasant feeling to focus on.
Suddenly there was the incredible sound of the movie stopping.
"Matt? You tired?" Isaiah asked, shifting somewhere behind his head.
"Mhhhhhhhhmmmm." Was he that obvious? Suspicious? He wanted to stay huddled there in the softness, thanks.
Isaiah's hand landed on his arm. The older wolf reserved his touches for when Matthew felt sick. But they were so physically close these days, because of Seline of course, no other reason, Matthew kind of craved it, even when he didn't need it.
Or maybe it would count now. But he didn't want to ruin the celebratory mood by being a baby. It was a stupid children's movie, for God's sake.
"We can just call it a night, I think. Continuation tomorrow," Isaiah suggested, ever the peace keeper trying to accommodate everyone.
It sounded nice to not continue the movie in any case. But going to bed created a new set of problems.
Matthew would have to move.
Seline wiggled under his head. "You are heavy," she said playfully. She seemed more open to the gesture than Matthew expected. For no reason at all.
Matthew hummed non-committalally not sure how to explain or escape his predicament without losing his dinner. His stomach was churning angrily and his head was still pounding, sound or not.
Isaiah chucked. "You can sleep here for all I care, but at least let the lady get her PJs."
Matthew huffed at that, but opening his mouth wasn't a good idea. A little burp escaped, muffled against Seline's ribcage.
Seline's fingers in his hair stilled. "Mattie? You feeling alright?"
Did she notice that he got burpy when he was about to spew? He could just be full. Damn it all, the risks of living with people so closely.
Another burp, this time a little louder and wetter. Matthew pressed his face closer into Seline's shirt. It smelled of rain and ozone and grapefruit.
He felt both of their gazes on him without looking. They were probably mouthing something to each other at this point. He could picture it vividly.
The pain in his left temple spiked and he moaned quietly.
Seline's cold hand cupped his nape, stroking his neck up to his cheek where she could reach.
"...If I move, I'll hurl," he admitted finally, figuring he should inform her of the danger she was currently in.
The sigh came from Isaiah though, as the raven haired man moved gently away from the sofa into the direction of the kitchen.
"What's wrong? Is your belly upset?"
Jesus, that sounded childish when she said it like that. Not to mention that weird new Mattie nickname.
"Headhurtss," he manged to get through his gritted teeth, still entirely muffled against her stomach. It was quiet, churning only gently, like a purring cat.
"Has it been hurting for long?" She sounded amazingly calm considering he was lying across her lap. "You seemed fine to me," she said with puzzlement. He could imagine the way her forehead creased, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she thought back about the evening.
He opened his mouth the respond, but another burp rushed out instead. Pocket of air against her stomach. Saliva was flooding his mouth.
Matthew loosed his hold on her reluctantly, turning so he would be lying on her knees. He covered his eyes with his hands. "Ow."
Seline placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Where?" Her voice was impossibly soft.
He pushed her cool hand - how was it so cool? - against the left side of his forehead.
He felt more than saw two of her fingertips on his temple, making tiny circular movements against it. She bowled over him, her lips hovering over his ear. "How is this? Should I stop?"
"No, that's nice," he said, relaxing a little. The gentle pressure felt good against the pain, though his stomach was still roiling.
Isaiah came back then, the sofa dipping under his weight as he knelt on Matthew's other side. "I got a bowl if you need it."
"Not the nice popcorn bowl, come on," Seline complained, lifting her head.
"It's big and deep," Isaiah protested, sounding amused.
Matthew groaned at the banter. The headache was giving away a bit at the message, but the nausea rose steadily no matter what he did. He felt air in his throat and spit flooding his mouth. He didn't want to move away from Seline's fingers or the attention, but his stomach cramped angrily then.
It had him shooting up into general direction of up. Except he felt dizzy right away, swaying and moaning.
Isaiah grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Matthew held his eyes shut against the spinning of the room, trusting him to have the bowl at the right place, cause he couldn't aim. His head exploded on his left side with the sensation and puke rocketed into his mouth.
He was right to trust him. The vomit made a splashing sound against the bowl without him even looking, Isaiah holding it under hid chin.
Seline's hands came to cup his forehead from behind. "You are okay, you are okay. Just get it up."
Matthew gave in to his body completely then, a little more voluntarily at the support. His senses were all over the place. He couldn't tell which was was up and down and his left side of the face as pounding and burning from warmth.
More waves of vomit came, easier to bring up now that he wasn't fighting it. When he thought he would catch a break, a loud burp brought in one more splash and then two more. His back arched, only Isaiah's hold on his shoulder keeping him upright. The sofa was moving like a water bed.
When he was finished, he spat the rest of the foul taste and slumped blindly back into Seline's lap. He wanted her nice scent and her cool hands and the little message against his temple that had a drilling machine against it.
"Better now?" she asked, her hands on his face just like he wanted, stroking his cheek and forehead.
"Mhhhhhhhhhmmmm." There was a relief from the nausea, but he was still afraid to open his eyes.
He could vaguely sense Isaiah's movements as he got rid of the bowl, returned to position it next to Matthew. Then circled around, fitting himself into the opening between Matthew's side and the sofa.
Matthew wasn't sure when vomiting because a group activity, or if he shouldn't apologise or feel embarrassed for making a fool of himself.
He sighed contendly as Seline went back to massaging his temple. Isaiah was rubbing his arm gently, as if to remind him he was there.
And who was Matthew to refuse the middle spot?
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Just wanted to say that I miss your fics on my feed and hope you’re doing well. :)
- YautjaLover (it’s stupid I can’t choose which account to do asks from -w-)
FJAJFJAJFJA that's so sweet!! :'D
I'm doing fine actually! Life's just been very busy lately and I'm kinda at this point where nothing i write seems satisfying to read, ya know?
I got like five half finished drafts that I just don't know how to continue lol
I'll keep working on them though-
How've you been doing? :3
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lymtw · 1 month
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Thinking of Toji being pulled out of sleep because he hears you whimpering beside him in your sleep. Once he wakes up, he can't get back to resting until he figures out what's going on with you. Maybe you're having a bad dream. After all, you are clutching your pillow pretty tight...
He puts a hand on your shoulder, ready to shake you. That is until you let out a moan. There's a visible 'huh' on his face as he keeps watching you to make sure he didn't mishear. His heart drops to his stomach when you sigh, your hips languidly rolling against the blanket that is bundled between your legs. Now he knows for sure that he didn't mishear you.
He chuckles quietly, his hand going up to caress your face. "Doll," he whispers, gently brushing wisps of hair away from your face. You don't respond. You stopped moving, and presumably went back to sleep. The problem is, Toji's awake now. Yes, he loves you and would guard you for years while you slumber, but right now you got him all bricked up. He can't sleep like this, but also, what's more embarrassing than getting himself off when the prettiest princess is right next to him.
"Baby," he coos, scooting closer to you. He pushes the blanket out of the way so that he can put one of your legs over his hip.
"You okay, Toji?" You mumble, slowly opening your eyes.
"Course, doll, but you're dreaming pretty loudly." He grins, throwing an arm over your waist. "Wanna talk about it?"
"What are you talking about?" You groan, still sleepy.
"Did you cum?"
Your heart stops at the question, and though your body is still in its sleepy daze, Toji could feel the tension surface.
"Could hear you moaning and whimpering like someone was giving it to you good. Was it me?"
"Toji...," you whine. "Who else would it be? Can we go back to sleep, now?"
"Hold on. Just wanna know if you finished. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging." His hands snake under your shirt.
"I did...'nt. But i'm more tired than horny, Toji. Don't worry about it."
"You won't have to do a thing. All you have to do... is lay there... and look pretty for me." His lips ghost yours as his fingers snap the strap of your bra against your skin. "How's that sound, hm? Want me to ease you back into sleep?"
You can see the trace of a grin on his face. His eyes look so dark, and this rattles something deep in your core.
"Fine. Just... not too rough, please."
"Yes, ma'am," he says, trying to hold back the full wolfy grin on his face. He makes haste of taking his clothes off and when he sees you trying to do the same, he takes over and pulls your shorts and underwear off. He's above you in an instant, wedging his hips between your legs, allowing his tip to nudge through your slick folds. "Dream me really did a number on you, huh? You're so wet."
"He was a freak." You giggle, watching Toji adjust himself.
"Not freakier than me, right?" He asks, kissing up your stomach until he reaches your chest.
"He's definitely competition for you, but you're number one, baby."
Toji gives you a deadpan expression, luring a laugh from you. "So damn lucky you asked me to go easy on you." He looks at that tired smile on your face, instantly remembering his mission. "Gonna put it in, 'kay ma?"
"Okay," you murmur, reaching your hands up to caress his face.
You both go quiet for a second as he brings his cock towards your entrance. Even the gentlest of Toji's movements are hard to take sometimes, but you've always been praised by him for handling those movements so well every time. You try to mute the gasp that comes with Toji stretching you, but your discomfort is not something you can easily hide from him.
"S'all good, princess," he mumbles into your neck. He can feel you trembling as he pushes in further. "Always so good for me. You can take it, huh?"
You squeak out a little 'fuck' and are instantly soothed by Toji. "I know, I know, my pretty girl. Don't cry." He looks into your twinkling eyes and kisses away the crystals gliding down your face. You're somewhat distracted by the affectionate butterfly kisses Toji scatters on your face. He uses this as a chance to sheathe the rest of himself inside you. Another inch stuffed into you, another kiss to your lips. He can see the light way your nose scrunches, instantly catching you with a coo of "that's it, mama. That's all of it."
You shudder, sighing as you push your head back into the pillow. "Fuck. Your dick is cursed, baby."
"You love it, anyway, little masochist." He smirks.
"What's a good fuck without some pain?" You can see the way his face lights up, almost like he considered that a green light to fuck you like an animal. "Ah, no," you intervene so quickly. "You're easing me back to sleep."
"Right." He stifles a laugh. "Let's get on that then."
It doesn't usually go this way with Toji. He likes to show off his strength against you, be it breaking your back when you arch over the crushing orgasms he gives you or holding you down when you try to squirm away from his overstimulating touch.
Somehow you got him to slow down for you this time, and the prize is you getting to mumble sweet nothings to him. His reward is that he gets to stay in gentle control. You tell him you love him and he responds with a little "mhm". You tell him you wouldn't go anywhere without telling him first but he doesn't read into the code in your message, so he smiles and says "you'd get lost, and I'd have to find you." You tell him you're glad you get to sleep next to him and he chuckles in your ear, responding with a non-threating "dick's got you all emotional, baby?"
You laugh it off, not taking it to heart. "Just love being close like this with you is all."
It goes quiet for a minute, only your little breaths and Toji's pants filling the silence. Toji can hear your heartbeat as he rocks both of you. Your heels dig into his lower back, your nails dragging across his shoulder blades. "Fuck, princess. I'll bust if you keep scratchin' me up like that." His lips ghost the column of your neck before latching on and working a mark into your skin. Your thighs squeeze against his waist as he grazes your sweet spot repeatedly.
Toji knows you well enough to know that that's a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum, so he makes his touch overwhelming. His hands run up your body until he reaches your chest, where he teases your nipples until your stomach starts quivering and you start breathing shakily. He massages your hips with his thumbs, while pressing kisses to your jaw with little murmurs of, "show me how good you feel" and "come on, baby."
"Fuck, princess..." he groans, almost reaching his own peak. "I wanna hear you. None of that covering your mouth or biting your tongue shit."
You folded so quickly after that, gasping like the air was sucked out of your lungs. "G-Go- Oh god! Fuck, Toji... I-"
"Mhm... fuck yeah, baby. T-That's good, so fuckin' good," he groans, rutting into you as he spews out his load. You put your hands up to his chest, pushing weakly as the overstimulation starts kicking in. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he slows to a halt. "So good for me, mama," he mumbles into your neck, his cock still buried in your soaked cunt. "No one deserves you." He presses a few more kisses onto your shoulder before getting off of you. Your eyes shut for seconds at a time every time you blink, meaning you could knock out any moment now. Any other day, the sight of cum drooling out of your pussy would incite another round, but Toji said he would fuck you to sleep, and he kept his word. The session concluded and now he gets to clean you up while you rest.
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lowkeyremi · 3 months
Text
Arranged Marriage hcs with Toji (fem reader)
AU where Toji has cursed energy and was picked by the zenin clan. (he still hates them lol) also he doesn't meet mamagumi so megu is your biological son in this au :3
note: just some quick hcs cuz i couldn't get this thought out of my head. I've seen a bunch of arranged marriage satoru related things but I thought I'd switch it up. mentions of pregnancy
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Arrangedhusband!Toji hates his family and refuses to get married just to fuck them over. (they want an heir)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who goes on a complete rampage when the news about his soon to be marriage finally reaches him through hushed whispers of some maids.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who immediately goes to see Naobito, former head of the Zenin Clan to ask what the fuck is going on.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who is enraged when he hears "you were given the opportunity to settle down yourself, but you didn't so we took matters into our own hands."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who requests to not have a wedding, he'll just sign the damn papers and get it over with.
Arrangedhusband!Toji doesn't visit you for at least a week upon your arrival. He's still pissed.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who finally decides to go visit you, he knocks on your door. You were given your own room to adjust to everything even though Naobito wanted you to be with Toji.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who's shocked when Mai opens the door and he sees you getting your hair done by Maki. The twins decorated your hair with a bunch of different flowers. (they're like maybe 10 in this)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who just stares at you. He doesn't say a word because he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't even know what you looked like until right now.
Arrangedhusband!Toji snaps out of his trance when you break the silence. "Good morning, Toji. It's nice to finally meet you." He catches on to your attitude at the end of your sentence and he doesn't even realize his lip quirking upward. Here he was thinking you'd be some damsel in distress, but it turns out you're pretty confident.
Arrangedhusband!Toji responds with "Uh, hey.." Is that the best he could come up with? You've left him at a loss for words.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who tries to get his shit together and deepens his voice to try and intimidate you a little. "Mornin', [name]. I'll send some maids over this way later. You are to accompany me for dinner tonight."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who hides a growing smile when you say, "Taking me on a first date after getting married? I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."
Arrangedhusband!Toji sits at the table waiting for your arrival. After seeing you he wanted to spend some alone time getting to know you, but his mother insisted on throwing a proper welcome dinner with the whole family.
Arrangedhusband!Toji requested that you sit right next to him. When you arrive someone ushers you to your seat. He whispers quietly enough for only you to hear, "being late to a family dinner isn't a good look for ya, pretty."
"well, excuse me for getting lost like three times." you say with a roll of your eyes. Naobito clears his throat, and Toji sighs.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who mumbles "thank you for the food." so everyone could start eating. He gets a little defensive when Naobito bombards you with questions, "I hope you are settling in well, but I'll get straight to business. When do you think you'll be ready to bear a child?"
Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets ready to speak up for you but you quickly cut him off, "Not anytime soon, sir. No offense. I just met your nephew today. I did not come here to be bred like some dog. I came here to settle the dispute between our families." Everyone is shocked by your words. You just told off the former head of the clan..
Arrangedhusband!Toji is proud of you. "I agree with her." Naobito gives him a sour look before responding, "Toji, you need to get a better hold on your woman. She should have some manners."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets up from the table and hauls you over his shoulder. It's embarrassing to say the least but neither of you speak a word until you're far enough away.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who sets you down, a smirk prominent on his face, "That was so bad ass. No one's ever spoke to him that way."
"Really? Not even you? That's surprising, you seem like the rebellious type."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who really starts to grow on you. He follows you everywhere and he learns something new about you every day, as do you too. He never restricts your freedom and supports many of your actions.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who will even spar with you sometimes when you're looking to improve.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who feels his heart swell a little bit when you kiss him. He's never felt anything like this before, and he doesn't want to admit that he'll get used to it.
Arrangedhusband!Toji invites you to finally move into his own bedroom, since "we've been married for a few months now."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who likes seeing your stuff alongside his in his room.
Arrangedhusband!Toji feels happier than he has in years. All his family wanted to do was train him to perfection and treat 'worthless' women like shit. He didn't want any of that though. So he sees you as a blessing in disguise.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who itches to give you a baby after seeing how you are around his twin cousins. You're gentle, but you never forget to scold them when they get into trouble.
Arrangedhusband!Toji after your second year anniversary brings up the idea to you, "Not for the selfish reasons my uncle wants. Just for us. We could even live somewhere else." You two are sitting in your shared bedroom. His eyes tell no lies, "What do you mean by live somewhere else? I don't think it matters how far we go, baby. If Naobito catches wind of a potential Zenin heir he'll track us down."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who assures you he could take care of this situation, if you wanted to have a baby. He doesn't want his future child/children to have to go through the same abuse he went through.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who doesn't know that you're already a month or two pregnant.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who has one of his "friends" come get you to take you to your new home. "Toji, you should come with me. I don't think this is a good idea."
"I'll see you in a day or two. I love you, baby. Gojo, no funny business or I'll fuck you up." He threatens.
"Are you doubting me, my dear friend? I wouldn't let anything happen to your precious wife." Toji flip him off. You watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller until you can't see him anymore. (they're frenemies in this au)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who immobilizes his uncle, which takes great effort. He doesn't come out fully unscathed. He's okay, though. He's doing it for his and your future.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who utters something to Naobito before leaving the Zenin clan, "I don't ever want to see your face again, you old geezer. Don't ever come looking for me or my wife, because the next time we meet, I'll kill you."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who knocks on the door of your new apartment and is relieved to see that you're just how he left you.
You gasp at his beat up stature and you sit him down to clean him up.
"They'll never bother us again." He mutters and he sees you smile a little bit.
"I'll miss the twins," you say with a little sigh. He moves his big hand to cup your face as you are trying to wipe the blood off of his, "You've taught them plenty. I'm sure they'll follow our path and make it out of the clan sooner or later."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who is thrilled when you tell him you're pregnant.
Arrangedhusband!Toji goes to extreme lengths to protect you and you have to remind him you can still accomplish things on your own.
Arrangedhusband!Toji Husband!Toji who has both your last names changed to Fushiguro to help hide his identity. You actually debated with him about this.
"Toji, you literally just chose the first name you saw on a site of Japanese last names. We need to put thought into it."
"Oh come on baby, you gotta admit Toji Fushiguro sounds better than Toji Zenin." He never fails to find a lazy way out of things.
Husband!Toji who lets a single tear fall from his eye when he sees you cradling your little boy.
"He looks just like you." You grumble playfully and his lips quirk up into a smirk, "Eh what can I say? He got the good genes."
You fight the urge to hit him with a pillow.
Husband!Toji tells the nurse the name you two agreed on for your son, "Megumi Fushiguro."
Husband!Toji who always gets scolded by you for using bad words around your son.
"Fuck!" Megumi yells when he colors outside of the line. Your head whips around so fast and Toji looks away.
"Gumi! Don't say that. That is a very bad word." You tell him. He tilts his head to the side, "Well Dad says them."
"Does he now? I'm pretty sure Dad knows he shouldn't say those words." After a minute Toji thinks he's in the clear so he turns his head back to see you glaring at him.
"I won't do it again." He hears you mumble 'liar.'
Husband!Toji who's mad that despite his looks, his son is a complete mama's boy. "Hey kid, wanna head to the park for a little 'while?"
"Can mama come?" Your husband grunts.
"Nah, it'll just be me and you. Father and son." He says with a grin hoping to bait him.
Megumi goes back to his video he's watching. With an uninterested tone he responds, "Oh, then I don't wanna go."
He rolls his eyes and walks away, "Well whatever."
Husband!Toji who decided he wants a do over, and gives you the proper wedding you deserve.
Husband!Toji who loves you and his son very much. He couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You are his blessing.
tagging @blkkizzat bc this is her man LMAO
4K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 4 months
Note
I read this thing about how lovely it is to jack off a shy boy and the whole time I was thinking about Yuuta Okkotsu, so was wondering if you could write reader giving him a reach around? Please and thank you. n3n I think calling him a good boy and hearing his whimpers would be amazing
Oh man, you're totally right Anon, that would be so cute.
Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu x Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, handjob, praise kink, whimpering, cum eating, shy!Yuta
A/N: Is there such a thing as a shyness kink? If there is I think I have that, I think shy people are super cute.
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Shy!Yuta yelps when he feels your hand on his cock. He didn't think you'd notice his hard-on if he was quiet. But you did and you decided to do something about it, right now, which he didn't expect given his surprised expression.
Shy!Yuta tries to keep his voice down while you fish his cock out and start stroking it. There's no real reason for that, it's just the two of you alone, he could be as loud as he wants. He always was more on the quiet side though. You really hope to change that.
Shy!Yuta is too flustered to tell you to go faster. He would take any stroking pace you're willing to give him, the man isn't that picky really. Still you can tell on his face that he wants something, he should really ask you for things more often.
Shy!Yuta wraps his hand over yours and shows you the pace he likes best. Still he doesn't say a word about it, keeping it to whispers and moans as you stroke him faster, the broader, longer strokes that make his eyes roll back every time your warm palm rolls over his leaky tip.
Shy!Yuta can't even muster the courage to tell you how good he's feeling right now. All of his praise are half-words and half-moans. He can't even keep his eyes open fully, they're hazy and watery, half open watching as your hand goes up and down his cock.
Shy!Yuta rolls his hips into your hand when it stops moving. He's begging, wordlessly, for you to keep going. His cum is already dripping down your hand, he just needs a little more, a few more strokes until he's finished.
Shy!Yuta finally uses his words when he feels your breath on his sensitive cockhead. He's finally come to a point where he can't take it anymore, he has to ask you to keep going. Or else... or else he's gonna lose his god damn mind.
Shy!Yuta lets his eyes roll to the back of his head as you start stroking him again. His grip is strong on you, his words once again not understandable but at least he's letting them out, being vocal and telling what and how he needs it.
Shy!Yuta chokes on air when you praise him while licking all of his cum off his cock. This is his reward for being honest with his desires. He should really do it more often, come out of his shell a bit more, it's gonna get him even more rewards of he does.
Shy!Yuta is blushing so hard right now and even more when you kiss the tip of his cock right before swallowing all of the cum that you licked off it. He can't look you in the eye anymore. So he doesn't see the kiss coming when you place it on his lips.
5K notes · View notes
reinainaric · 3 months
Text
I said "I love you."
you say nothing back
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Falling in love with Gojo Satoru was as easy as reading the pages of your favorite book, not until you reached the very end of the chapter and the author just loves to twist the story.
contents: it was all a bet trope, angst lol, fluff, hurt!gojo, groveling, satoru gojo x fem!reader, college AU, playboy!gojo, comfort
credits to @/toOOfu for the art above!! ^^
***
September 1, 2023
"She looks like an easy target," Satoru chuckled as he watched you walk over to your friend, Utahime Iori, in the school cafeteria. It was one of those days when he would joke with Suguru and Shoko, with Suguru always making sure Satoru gets riled up by his joke.
Suguru simply told Satoru that girls may swoon over him, but he's sure that they're some others who probably would find him annoying, someone like you. That statement made Satoru cocky, and as prideful as he was, he made it into a bet that he'll make sure to make you fall in love with him by the end of December, enough time to swoon you over.
"We'll see about that, Satoru." Suguru smirked. "The end of December, you say?"
The latter nodded his head, a wide and annoying grin on his face. "Watch and you'll see, Suguru."
The catch? Nothing, just plain fun and feeding his ego.
"Satoru!" Oh, and here comes one of his girls. His flings.
September 2, 2023
Satoru wastes no time. The next day after making their bet, he quickly made advances towards you. After seeing you in the lockers first thing in the morning, he walked over and leaned to the locker right next to yours. And when you turned, you found him there with a smirk on his face.
"Hey, darling..." He said, almost seductively, if not only for the furrowed eyebrows in your face.
"Excuse me, who are you?" Your soft voice echoed in his head.
Now that hurts his ego. Satoru Gojo. Gojo Satoru. The handsome Satoru. The greatest. The flirt. The smartest. The playboy. The Gojo Satoru. The damn Gojo Satoru who you didn't even know who.
His mind was floating elsewhere after hearing your question. As unbelievable as it may sound, you were, unfortunately, serious about not knowing him. And guessing by the look in your face, he definitely was not making a good first impression.
First attempt: Failed.
But he's not the Gojo Satoru for nothing. No, he won't give up just yet.
So he straightened his composure, faking a cough as he flashes his smile that makes all his girls go crazy, and lowers his head to show you his ocean blue eyes underneath his glasses.
He definitely made sure you won't forget his name as he asks forces you to walk you into class, blabbering nonsense by your side.
You were just too nice to tell him to go away.
September 16, 2023
Gojo Satoru was persistent. Walking you to class, even waiting for you outside the door when he was vacant, disturbing your quiet study session at the library, sitting with you at the cafeteria table when Shoko or Suguru was not there. You definitely didn't forget his name this time as he became the annoying Gojo Satoru who's becoming a nuisance to your somewhat quiet life turned into a roller coaster.
During those days, Gojo found out things about you. You were studying at the architecture department, you like arts and coffees as for what he noticed when you were at the library, you were at the top of your class, and you have a few admirers that you turned down in a nice way possible, just like how you were turning him down too.
He also took note of the fact that you were introverted, and a little shy with people so he might just go easy on you. You had a soft voice, however, you weren't as innocent as you came out to be. You are honest with your words, so when you say you're not interested in him, then you're truly not.
You weren't an easy target after all. But Gojo Satoru loved the thrill, you challenged him so much that he wasn't about to give up now that you intrigued him. He wanted to prove to himself that he can get anyone, he can have whatever he wants, and he definitely will.
"It's raining, it won't hurt to get in my car, princess." He said nearly in your ears. You pushed his face away with a look of disgust.
"No way, Gojo. You probably took so many girls in there already, and how can I be so sure you won't do anything bad?" You frowned at him, shoving his chest away as you stand outside the doors of your building, waiting for the rain to stop. You were angry, but damn you can't even raise your voice at him.
Soft. Too damn soft. Can he break you?
Through the days that he came by to woo you, it didn't matter anymore what words came out of your mouth. People may see you as the shy type of girl, but you're not afraid to voice out your opinion, and your somewhat intimidating face speaks a lot for you.
"Jealous?" He laughed when you glared at him. "Princess, I can assure you I haven't taken anyone inside my car. Plus, I can even buy a new one exclusively just for you if it bothers you too much." He grinned, annoyingly.
You gave him a moment of silence, and that sparked a new hope in Satoru's ego that you might be considering his offer now.
"Well... no."
Oh.
But he could only smirk, assuming you were only playing hard to get. Girls always liked when boys chase after them, no?
"I'll walk you home then."
You shot daggers at his back as he ran to his car, and came back with an umbrella. His shirt got a bit soaked, hair a little wet after running to the car, but damn, he still got that annoying smirk on his face.
You sighed, how annoying.
September 29, 2023
He never gave up despite how you rejected him multiple times. He stuck by your side even though you don't want him to, and he was somehow getting into your system. He carries your bag when he walks you to class, or just about anywhere, and you didn't even give your bag to him—he practically forced you. He'd buy you coffee in the morning, making sure he gets the right order, and when you give money to pay, he'd refuse and shove the money back in your wallet. Sometimes, he'd give you sweets even if you don't ask him to, giving you the flavors that he likes the most.
Funny how you can't even get him to stop whatever he's trying to do. No man has ever pursued you like he does.
"Gojo–"
"That's Satoru for you, love." He cut you off with a playful smile. "Haven't I told you already?"
"Gojo." You repeated seriously. His eyes glinted with interest as he waited for your words. "Get lost, please."
How nice of you to say please.
He laughs. He had the audacity to laugh. "You know, you're really cute."
"Look," you sighed tiredly. "Whatever this is you're trying to do, stop. I'm not interested. If you want to get into my pants like you did to those other girls, that's not going to happen."
With one look at him, you snatched your bag from him and walked away with your heart beating loudly. Your face was heating up after saying each word, and never in your life have you turned someone down so harshly.
Satoru watched as you walked away. Sure, that hurt his pride, but he can't let his ego step on so easily.
He left you alone during the day, just giving you the space since he seemed to have pushed your buttons a bit. Plus, he was busy with basketball practice since his coach was already nagging him for not attending their training.
However, your assumptions were only proved to be true when you caught him with a girl at the parking lot the same day. A cheerleader, stroking his chest as if she was comforting him as her other hands wiped his sweat with a towel. You looked at his physique, Satoru Gojo was in his basketball uniform, showing a lot of his biceps. You watched as his adam's apple protruding as he drank his water.
You felt annoyed. Your eyes turning red when you see just how he didn't mind the cheerleader. Of course, Gojo Satoru was a playboy.
Who cares? You definitely didn't.
That's what you thought.
You walked in the opposite direction, just so you wouldn't cross paths. But of course, Gojo Satoru will always see you. After all, he was at the parking lot waiting just for you, and only you.
"Wait up!" You heard his voice from behind, and you didn't even look back, thinking he wasn't calling out for you. You wished he was calling for you.
Satoru grabbed your wrist, and forced you to look at him. "Hey!"
Your brows furrowed, trying to yank your wrist away at his strong hold. "What do you want?"
"Woah... slow down." He said as he grasped your elbows with both hands. His eyes searched yours, his piercing blue eyes staring at the raging fire burning in your gaze. "What's wrong?"
You swear, your brows almost met each other at him. But you didn't want to burst. At least, not in front of him. "Go back to your cheerleader, Gojo." You frowned at him.
He observed you for a minute, then a small smile crept on his lips. Realizing just how much he's finally having an effect on you.
"Sorry," he chuckled.
"What?!" You almost shout at him in annoyance.
"I said, I'm sorry, princess." He repeated. "I didn't think of you as the jealous type. Plus, she was just helping me."
"Help you what? Wipe off your sweat? Since you don't have the hands to do it for yourself?" You glared at his annoying handsome face. "You playboy. I knew you were just trying to play with me." You said, pushing his chest with your pointer finger.
He pursed his lips as he caught your wrist, stopping you. "Now, now, don't think like that." He chuckled. "I'm sorry, I'll be sure to push those girls away so you won't be mad at me anymore."
And damn, he was true to his words. He didn't know what got into him, but he definitely started rejecting every girl that came his way. He didn't even feel sorry, and he even stopped calling those poor girls with sweet endearments as he rejected them.
Gojo Satoru was slowly starting to feel something for you. But he doesn't even know it just yet.
In a span of a month, he successfully got into your system.
October 6, 2023
"How's the deal going?" Suguru asked as they walked together to their class.
"Poor girl, I heard from people that she's nice." Shoko added, shaking her head at them. "Though people may see her as intimidating, they said she's really kind. A soft voice, and all that. Shouldn't you stop, Satoru?"
"Nah, I think I'm enjoying this." Satoru shrugged.
Of course, Satoru definitely felt something tugging at his heart. He definitely liked having you around, since you were giving just the right thrill to rile him up, he loved every rejection, and every attention you gave him. But somehow, he was feeling a little guilty. But he's too prideful to even admit that.
"Plus, she's friends with Utahime. That girl hates you a lot, Satoru." Shoko said. "You wouldn't want to hurt her best friend."
October 13, 2023
"Didn't I tell you to call me Satoru?" He raised his eyebrows at you as he accompanied you in the library, placing a coffee and a small cookie right next to your books.
"We're not friends, Gojo."
"Right, since you're going to be my girlfriend."
You shot him a look, sighing as you turned the pages of your book. "What do you want this time?"
"Nothing, I just wanted to spend time with my favorite person." He smiled, opening his books too. "I'll study with you. I promise, I'll be quiet."
You didn't respond to that, just expecting him to keep his words. And when he did stay silent like he promised, you were already thanking god for having to hear your prayers.
As the hours went by, you slowly fell asleep, your head resting in your arms as your books laid discarded. Satoru looked at you, a small smile crept on his face as he gently stroked your hair.
He stood up, organizing your books in a pile, taking your pencil case as he shoved your pens in them and putting it inside your bag, he got the empty cup of coffee that he got for you and threw it in the trash can, and he did it all so as to not wake you. He waited for a few hours, tenderly watching you doze off, before he tapped your shoulders to wake you up so he could take you home.
October 18, 2023
Maybe Satoru felt guilty now.
He twists and turns in his bed, thinking of you and how you put up with him everyday. And everything you do, never escape in his eyes as he finds himself memorizing you.
You'd smile at him nicely, despite how your eyes show how annoyed you were.
Your feet would tap the floor when you get too nervous.
You don't even know but you unconsciously hold a piece of fabric in his shirt when it gets too crowded, hiding behind him when there's a lot of people.
He notices how your hands move gracefully as you trace your art project, eyes furrowed and focus on getting your work done.
Truthfully, he adores your smiles. The way your eyes would squint every time your lips stretch in delight. He held your hands once at his attempt of flirting, and it was so soft that he couldn't even get himself to let go. He loved playing with your soft, silky hair whenever you fell asleep in the library, staying by your side until you woke up. He also loved your silence, the comforting atmosphere that you give off seems to calm something in his heart. When he manages to get a proper conversation with you, he just wants to melt every time he hears your sooting voice.
And nervously, he thinks he's starting to like you.
October 23, 2023
Slowly, Satoru became a part of your day. Somehow, he managed to finally be friends with you, and still, you refused to call him Satoru, indicating that you still cannot allow yourself to be casual with him.
That's fine. He can settle for whatever you can give him. For now.
"Baby, there's a basketball game coming up this Friday..." Satoru trailed off. You were almost going to point out his endearment, but then again, it's Satoru, and you were slowly getting used to him.
"What?" You asked. "So?"
"I bought you tickets so you can watch. It's two tickets, so you can bring your friend."
He didn't even ask if you wanted to, but then again, for a hundredth time, it's Satoru. He wanted you to watch his game, nonetheless.
And you did. Your seat being close to their benches so he can see you easily.
October 27, 2023
"Seriously? I'm about to watch our school's basketball game, because Gojo Satoru invited you?" Utahime said annoyed as you both sat at your assigned seats.
"Well... yes..." You said shyly, looking around at the amount of people in the stadium. "You know, we've been hanging out a lot–"
"I told you, he's bad news." Utahime cut you off. "How am I supposed to get that in your head?"
"I know, I know... But he's actually been nice. Haven't you notice?"
Utahime thought for a moment. Of course, she noticed some changes. Gojo Satoru seemed to be spending his time with you lately. He didn't even care about his ex flings, or his admirers, he was solely focused on you. Usually, Gojo would take a girl wrapped around his fingers in a day, and then disposing them just as quick after he got what he wanted. He looks like he's not like that to you, Utahime thought. Though, she hated his guts, Utahime knew you were enjoying having him around.
She sighed, "Just... don't get hurt, okay?"
You chuckled at her. "Why would I?"
After the game ended, with your school cheering loudly at winning, Utahime said she had to go home quickly, so you were left alone.
You didn't know what to do, or where to go. Satoru was busy with his teammates, talking and congratulating each other. Satoru wanted to go to you quickly, but his fans surrounded him, stopping him from going your way as they celebrated their victory.
Satoru knew too well that you didn't like the crowd, so he was trying hard to escape from it.
Your eyes watched as his fans congratulated him, asking for pictures, and even giving him gifts. You sighed, texting him that you'll be going home since he wasn't about to finish anytime soon.
You understood that he was famous, and all that. He's Satoru Gojo, after all. And it's another part of him that you're still not used to.
A part of you was proud of him. And you couldn't possibly be selfish about him, especially if you only recently got to know him.
Satoru hurriedly ran away from the crowd, excusing himself politely as he saw you walking through the exit doors. He got his bag, and ran to catch up to you.
Thanks to his long legs, and his intense basketball training, he was able to catch up to you quickly. "Hey!" He called.
You turned as you heard his voice, seeing his disheveled hair and sweaty forehead as he ran to you. "Gojo, hey, I texted you and–"
"Hey..." He greeted, panting heavily.
You pursed your lips, getting a handkerchief from your pocket so you can wipe the sweat off his face. "Why did you leave them? Everyone was celebrating with you."
"You weren't there." He frowned. "What's the point of it..."
Satoru was tired after the game, but he was regaining his strength once he saw you.
"Nonsense." You chuckled, in which he frowned even more.
"I'll take you home." He said as he holds your hand to his, leading you to his car. "I invited you anyway, it's my responsibility to take care of you."
You nodded, getting in his car since you had been tired from all the crowd.
When he reached your home, he quickly got off so he could open the door for you.
Oh, the little things that he does.
You both stand outside of your house awkwardly, both trying to find the right words to say. You looked away, tapping your feet nervously as Satoru watches you.
"Congratulations... Satoru."
Satoru... Satoru... Satoru... His name never felt so good until you said it. It was like an achievement, a big prize that he won in his life. And his heart was almost about to explode when you finally called him by his name.
Satoru almost stuttered thanks to you. Slowly, he was approaching you until your back leaned in his car.
He closed his eyes, as his head fell on your shoulders. "Say that again... please?"
"Huh?" You were confused, your face blushing at the proximity. "Congratulations?"
"No... say my name... please, baby?"
His voice was so soft, desperately asking you to say the words he longed to hear from you. Satoru felt weak in his knees.
He looked up at you finally, his eyes searching your soul. Despite the darkness of the night, his eyes were glowing brighter than the moon.
"Satoru?"
"Fuck..."
Satoru Gojo knew he's in danger.
The moment he locked eyes with your eyes, looking at them until it darted on your lips. Before he knew it, he was leaning down for a kiss.
And fuck it, just how dangerous it was that you weren't even pulling away.
October 28, 2023
You were confused when you saw Satoru at your front door the next morning, his hands holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked absolutely handsome in his shirt, his sleeves tucked until his elbow.
You blush when you remember what happened last night. "Satoru, what are you doing here? It's a Saturday."
"I know," he said, handing you the bouquet of tulips. "I missed you."
"H-huh?"
"Will you allow me to take you out on a date?"
His heart was at bliss when you said yes to him. It was a simple coffee shop date, but you felt so happy as he made sure you were also comfortable and having fun. Having casual talks with you, but this time, there was a lying affection between you two.
And when he took you home, he slowly sealed your lips in a kiss. Exploring your mouth gently, smiling as he pulled away.
October 30, 2023
Satoru finally told Suguru he wants to stop whatever game they started with each other.
"Just about time you do."
Satoru swears he felt his ears heat up when Suguru said those words with a teasing grin. Shoko was laughing at his flushed state, clapping her hands in delight.
"Ah! I knew it!" She exclaimed. "Knew you were going to fall on your own trap. Well, that's actually good."
Satoru blushed even more. Finally, he can admit that he was starting to like you. Love you even.
In all honesty, he felt like he couldn't even live without you in his life. He felt like every moment with you was precious, and he was desperate to make you his, seriously this time.
All those times that he accompanied you to class, were influenced by his own choice. He could've just left you alone some days, but he didn't even know he was doing all those things unintentionally. Buying you snacks, and your coffee, he could've easily stopped that after every rejection, but he chose not to.
Gojo Satoru wanted to always be a part of your day. He was already a part of your present, and he wants to be there in your past, and still be in your future.
November 3, 2023
Satoru, as usual, was eating lunch with you in the cafeteria. Everyone in the school knew by now that he was not entertaining anyone anymore, just you. And he made it that obvious, looking at you so lovingly everyone who passed by would've looked at you in envy.
"Why aren't you with Shoko and Suguru?" You asked as you take a sip of your coffee. You looked over to the table where his friends sat, both busy at whatever conversation they had.
"They don't mind." Satoru replied, scooting closer in your seat. "You should get used to it by now."
"To what?"
"Sitting with you during lunch." He smiled when you looked away. "I like being with you."
Your mind wandered off somewhere when he said that. Does he like you or does he like the company that you give?
November 10, 2023
Satoru was frowning at you when he saw you sitting with another guy in the library. At your usual spot, in his seat, in front of you. He was annoyed that someone even had the guts to make a move to you.
Slowly, with heavy steps, he approached your table, sitting at the vacant chair next to you. His hands wrapped itself between your waist, as his jealousy pulled him to kiss your cheek in front of your innocent classmate.
"Baby..." He whispered closely in your ear. "I was looking for you."
He looked in front to shoot daggers at the guy you were with. The innocent stranger blushed as he looked away, "Uh... I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I'll message you if I need help."
The guy hurried on his feet, stumbling as he exited the library. Satoru's arms tighten on your waist and you looked at his angry face.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Who is he and why is he going to message you?" A frown was evident in his face, and he was getting a little too close. You had never seen him this intimidated.
"That's my partner for a group project, idiot." You muttered the last word. "You scared him off."
Satoru pulled you close, nuzzling his nose against your temple. "It's annoying..."
"What's annoying?"
Satoru cursed under his breath, "Come on, I'll take you out to dinner."
But while he was driving, it was painfully silent. You're not used to this kind of mood, he was always playful and teasing, but now, he was glaring ahead at the car in front of him, as if the car did something wrong.
His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and for some reason, you find yourself putting your hands above his, running circles on his tensed ones.
His hold loosened up a bit, and he sighed heavily.
"Tell me, what's wrong, Satoru."
Satoru pulled over to the side, facing you with a nervous face. "I'm sorry..."
"For what?"
"I was... jealous." He answered truthfully. He frowned, not liking the feeling twisting in his stomach. "I've never felt this before, baby. I want to keep you to myself, to always have you by my side and not anyone else, and it's so selfish that I hate myself for it. You're driving me crazy, and fuck it, I love you. I love you for making me like this. You don't understand... I'm head over heels–"
You interrupted him with a kiss. Satoru didn't even realize that he was already confessing, not until he felt your mouth against his.
It felt like there were fireworks exploding in your surroundings. Feels like he was finally breathing for the first time ever. Like the summer melting his winter.
"I love you too, Satoru."
He felt like dying right then and there, cupping your cheeks in a hungry kiss. Pulling you to his lap as you both make out in his car.
"Can I be your boyfriend?"
How can he be so cute, muttering those words weakly underneath you?
His question was not even a 'will you be my girlfriend' but a 'can i be your boyfriend?'
It was so cute. He was asking you your permission, he was asking to be yours.
He was... surrendering his heart to you.
And who were you to deny him?
November 20, 2023
You found out Gojo Satoru is a clingy man. It was obvious, the first time that he never left you alone, but this time, it only got worse, in a good way though.
He holds your hand when you're together, not even caring when girls would look at the two of you jealously. He doesn't care if a teacher sees him snuggling his face against your neck, he just wants to be that close to you. He will ask for a cuddle every time you two spend your time in your house. He would dart his tongue out teasingly at Shoko and Suguru when all of you sat at the same table, and he was hugging your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder. And when you two are in a private space, especially his car, he'd pull you in his lap for a long make out session.
You weren't even complaining, since you loved him just as much.
"Utahime!" You smiled when you saw your best friend in the cafeteria. "Haven't seen you in a while."
Utahime gave out a tired sigh. "I know, the professor is always giving out so many tasks, I might pass out anytime soon." She chuckled. "How are you? You and Gojo? He's like a lovesick puppy always sticking by your tail."
You chuckled. "That's so exaggerated, Utahime... But I'm really really happy."
Utahime was glad to hear her only best friend was this happy. She was thanking god that Gojo finally decided to be serious over a girl for once, and if he ever just breaks your heart, she'd be so sure to be the first to kick his ass.
December 4, 2023
"You're still with her?" Gojo's ex flings, Jia, asked him during his basketball training. Jia was the cheerleader girl that you saw him with in the parking lot, the fling that Satoru had for a month, longer than usual. He already rejected her, but she's still desperately trying to get with him.
"Of course, I am." He muttered, annoyingly. He snatched the towel that she was holding, her attempt to help him wipe his sweat. "Jia, I already told you–"
"Isn't she just a bet?"
Satoru froze, as if a bucket of ice was dropped all over his body. Her voice rang in his head, and he blinked furiously a few times.
"She's not–"
"But I heard you and Geto." Jia smirked, knowing she was just pushing the right buttons. "Come on, you were at the cafeteria, were you not expecting someone to hear you? I was pitying her when I saw the poor girl slowly starting to–"
"Whatever you heard, Jia, is none of your business." Satoru said in a cold-hearted tone. "I love her. Get that in that little brain of yours." He scoffed, walking away.
Jia was furious, her eyes turning black in anger. Oh, she wanted to hurt you. She was the last fling of Satoru, and just because of you, he was acting like this. She didn't like the fact that you easily stole him from her.
December 13, 2023
The fall. The breaking point.
Suguru was having a party in his house, a public year-end party with a few of his college friends and blockmates, everyone was invited to have fun. Satoru took you with him, making sure to just stay by your side so you won't get lost at the sea of people.
"How are you two holding up?" Suguru approached you two, handing a cup to Satoru. "You two having fun?"
You nodded your head quietly. "Yeah... there's a lot of people. Are they all from our university?"
"Some are outsiders," Suguru chuckled. "Satoru, we're about to play by the pool. We'll wait for you there."
Satoru nodded, pulling you by the waist as Suguru left. "You okay, baby? Do you want to go home?"
You shake your head, "No, no, it's fine. We can stay a bit more."
"Mhmm, just tell me if you get tired, okay?"
You two walked together to the backyard, where the swimming pool was at. It was a bit crowded, but definitely fewer than inside Suguru's house. Shoko was there, a few of Suguru's friends, and Satoru's basketball teammates. They were all passing out their drinks, mixing whatever liquor was there.
Everyone said hi to Satoru, even to you. You watched silently as a few of his friends talked to him.
"Satoru, I'll go to Shoko first." You whispered above the noise. He turned his head at you, stopping his conversation with his friends.
"What? I'll go with you then–"
"No, it's fine, Shoko's just there." You said, pointing at Shoko who was lighting a cigarette right next to Suguru. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
Satoru nodded reluctantly as he let you approach Shoko and Suguru, turning back to his friends, glancing at you once in a while.
But when he wasn't looking, Jia just had the perfect timing to enter the scene, stopping you midway.
"Oh, it's Satoru's little toy." Jia slurred her words. You looked at her confused as she looked at you judging. "He's still not breaking up with you? He wants to hurt you that bad, huh?" She chuckled.
You were trying to assess her words. You recognized her as the cheerleader Satoru was with last time, and her aura and words were making you nervous. What was she trying to say? What did she mean by that?
Satoru saw you, and his breath hitch when he saw who you are with. He looked over at Shoko and Suguru, who both stood up to approach you, but Jia was already taking advantage of you being alone.
"Poor girl," she frowned teasingly. "I'm pretty sure Satoru didn't want to go too far with the bet."
"Bet?" Your voice came out hoarse. You looked over at Jia's shoulder, where Shoko and Suguru stood frozen in their spot, their eyes widened in horror, and it gave you just enough explanation about what's happening.
"Oh, they were just betting about how Satoru can make you fall in love 'til December." She laughed wickedly. "I'm sorry, honey, you had to find out this way, but really, I was feeling sorry that I have to tell you–"
Her words were cut short when you felt a hand on your wrist. And you turned to see Satoru, his eyes red and shaking, "Baby..."
"Satoru? Was that true?" You looked into his eyes, hopeful. Your eyes welled up in tears, and his silence just made it worse. His hold on you was trembling, and he couldn't even say the right words out of his mouth.
You looked at Suguru and Shoko, your eyes pleading. "Shoko? Suguru?"
Another silence. It's like something was pulling the strings of your heart, threatening to cut your lifeline. And it hurt so much when they couldn't even say something.
You heaved a gasp, trying to stop a sob to escape your lips. But you failed miserably as Satoru tried to pull you in his embrace. "Let me explain–"
You pushed him away furiously, eyes angrily glaring at him. "Explain? Explain what?! That what she said was true?!"
Satoru's hands balled in a fist, and he felt his eyes burning as you pushed him away from his touch. His heart aches when you look at him full of hatred, and hurt. He felt his world slowly crumbling apart when you ran away in a hurry.
You quickly called Utahime, asking her to pick you up as soon as possible. While Satoru stood there helpless, his feet glued to the ground. He looked at Suguru, his eyes searching for help.
All of you were equally shocked, and nervous.
"Fucking go after her, Satoru!" Shoko shouted as she pulled Jia's hair. "Fucking bitch!"
The latter cried, but Satoru couldn't care less as Suguru pushed him to move. As fast as he could, he ran outside the door of Suguru's house, walking past every dancing body, he didn't even care if he crashed into someone, he just wanted to get to you.
And when he found you walking by the sidewalk, his heart started crying at your panicked state. He approached you, holding your wrist to stop you from walking any further.
"Satoru!"
"Let's talk, please–"
"Let go of me!"
"Let's talk, baby. Let's talk this out." He pleaded desperately, hands grasping your shoulders to stop you from moving.
Your body trembled against him, hands covering your face as you tried to stop your tears from falling continuously. "I hate you."
"I know you do–"
"Fucking jerk."
"I know, I know–"
"Don't touch me!" You burst, pushing him away harshly. His heart crashed into pieces, his breath coming out shallow and slow. Just like you, he was crying just as bad. "I knew! I knew from the very start you were up to no good! Utahime warned me, my friends warned me! But fuck you! I thought you actually cared! I thought you loved–"
"I love you, baby..." He said, weakly.
"You lying skim! I thought you changed!"
"Please, baby, let's talk about this when we're not angry? Please?" He tried to reach out for you, but his heart felt like it was losing its strength when you back away.
"I don't want to see you–"
"N-no, you don't mean that..." His voice came out as a whisper, a desperate plea for you to listen to him. "I'll take you home, we'll talk, okay? I'll explain and–"
"There's no use, Gojo."
Cruel. How cruel of you to say his last name so coldly. It was a sign that Satoru refused to look at. A sign that you were tired, that you want to let this go already.
His beautiful blue eyes seemed to lose its life, the same way that he was losing you. One moment, you were there by his side, and now... you looked at him as if you wanted to get him out of your life.
And it hurt so bad. It hurt so bad when he tried to touch you, but you still furiously backed away.
"I love you." His voice cracked, looking at you weakly. His hands shake by his side, fighting the urge to reach out for you.
You breathed heavily, shaking your head at him as you said nothing back. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to let him hear your sobs. You're starting to pity yourself, of how stupid you had become. You should've listened to Utahime the first time.
December 14, 2023
Satoru had never felt this lifeless before. Even Shoko and Suguru couldn't help him as he refused to talk to any of them.
His eyes were searching for you everywhere in the cafeteria, but to his dismay, you never showed up the whole day, not even in your classes. He wanted to ask Utahime when he saw her walking down the hallways, but the girl only glared at him as she walked passed. And Gojo was just as helpless as ever.
He messaged and called you a few times, but you didn't answer. He wanted to go to your house, but he can't even find the courage to do it.
December 15, 2023
Satoru finally saw you after a day of absence. You looked tired, and he was mentally cursing at himself for making you like this. He was starting to hate himself, and he's not going to forgive himself anytime soon.
Satoru tried to approach you, but you didn't even dare look him in the eye. He bit his lower lip, trying his hardest to stabilize his breathing. Just like he usually does, he walks you to class, only a few steps behind this time.
Fine, he'll settle for this. He'll give you the space you needed first before anything else.
At the cafeteria, he didn't see you once again. That worried him as he left Shoko and Suguru to look for you. The first place he thought of was the library, and he was glad to see you there.
You glanced up from your book, feeling someone staring at you. And you were right as your eyes met with Satoru, and your heart ached as your brows furrowed at him.
You looked away, trying not to be affected.
All throughout the day, Satoru thought of you and your last interaction. Every time the memory flashed in his mind, he wanted to punch himself. Hurt himself twice as much.
He fucked up so bad, and he wanted to make it up to you.
So he finally had the courage to wait outside your classroom's door after his class, waiting for the professor to dismiss everyone. He didn't waste anymore time as he got by your side quickly when you walked out the door.
Your name rolled out his tongue slowly, and you stopped dead on your track.
"I'll t-take you home..." He stuttered, his eyes searching yours for any emotion. But your eyes were dead, not even a single anger, or love for him in there.
"I'm fine, Gojo. You can go away–"
"I'm not going away."
You turned to him furiously. It was like you two are back to square one, to the first time you two met, and no one should ever forget that Gojo Satoru was persistent. But this time, two hearts were breaking and in a need to mend.
"P-please, let's talk–"
You didn't respond as you walked away fast, but damn his legs for always being able to keep up with you. Despite how Satoru took the hint that you don't want to talk to him, he still didn't care. It didn't matter to Satoru if he couldn't take you home with his car, he'll walk with you instead, like how he used to.
He'll be quiet. He just wants to be with you.
December 16, 2023
You hated Saturday classes. And you hate it even more that Satoru Gojo was tailing you behind. Trying his best to get you to talk to him.
"Baby–"
"Don't call me that."
He coughed awkwardly, blinking his tears away. "You didn't eat lunch today again, let me take you–"
"Cut the crap, Gojo."
He gulped when you looked at him, with hatred in your eyes.
Maybe, just maybe he can settle for this. Look at him. Just look at him. At least look at him, even if you don't want to love him anymore. It's fine. He understands. Just look at him.
"Stop with the act already. I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of you."
"I'm sorry..." He muttered against his breath. "But I can't. Not until you listen to me." Not until you take him back.
"There's nothing for you to explain anymore, Gojo. I've had enough, and I get it. I understand as bright as day that it was just a game–"
"It's fucking not." He gritted his teeth. As much as he didn't want to be harsh, he was so desperate in wanting you to lend your ears to him. "It wasn't a game for me. And I did love you. I fucking love you still. Yes, it was a bet at first, but I told Suguru that I wanted to stop. He knows just how much I love you. Shoko knows. Fucking everyone knows at this point. Why can't you just listen to me?"
He catches his breath as he finishes voicing out his words. But no, you were a little hard in the head. You wouldn't believe him that fast. You didn't want to hurt your heart again.
"I don't love you."
You didn't know what gave you the urge to say that. It wasn't really true, but the wrong words seem to be the only right words to cut it out.
If Satoru's heart is already breaking, he was sure it is now turning into ashes. You're a liar, he tried to convince himself. You love him, and he's not about to give up just yet.
December 18, 2023
You can hurt Satoru how much you want, but that will never stop him from loving and chasing after you.
Another frustrated sigh came out from you when he left a cookie on your table to your first class, with a note saying, 'I love you. Don't forget to eat.' with his name underneath and a heart. You didn't even know how he managed to put these on your table so early in the morning, and your heart just wants to surrender.
But no, you're not.
So, even if it comes out too heartless, you offered the cookie to the person next to you as you crumpled the note, throwing it away inside your bag so no one would see it.
During lunch, Satoru saw you at your usual table, and tried to sit with you. But you got up in a hurry, pulling Utahime who just got back from the bathroom with you.
Being angry at him is one thing, but avoiding him? No, he can't take that. He'd rather have you stay mad at him, scream and hurt him verbally, even slap him if you want, but giving him the cold shoulder was you telling him that he doesn't exist in your world anymore. Satoru's heart is barely living at this point.
Satoru cursed to himself, standing up and going back to Shoko and Suguru who looked at him with a sad smile.
"Give it time, Satoru."
But time doesn't seem to be on his side.
And fate doesn't get along with you on your most desperate days as you watched the rain poured down once again. It was like deja vu. Standing outside the building, waiting for the rain to stop so you can go home.
But the rain was falling a little too harsh, and you know it's not about to stop anytime soon. It was like the rain also had a turmoil within itself, crying heavily just the same way your heart did.
You hate yourself for always forgetting an umbrella as you take a step, lifting your bag to your head, as you let the rain soak your clothes. It's the last day of school today anyway, you're finally taking your Christmas vacation tomorrow, and it wouldn't hurt to get sick for a few days.
Unbeknownst to you, Satoru comes to the rescue at the right time.
He held an umbrella as he ran after you, being careful as he strides so he won't trip on his feet.
He called your name, stopping shortly when he finally got you under the umbrella and pulling you close by the waist.
"I'll take you home." He shouted above the rain.
Your body trembled in the cold, and Satoru was embracing you like he used to. He didn't even mind if you got his clothes wet. But you still have the guts to push him away. "No! I can go home by myself!"
"Stop being stubborn!" Despite holding you with one hand, his other hand holding the umbrella, he still managed to keep you on your feet, his hand squeezing your waist tightly.
"Gojo–"
"Stop it!"
"Let go of me!"
"You're going to get sick!"
"I don't fucking care!"
"No, I'll take you home–"
"Gojo Satoru!"
Satoru gave up as you writhed from his embrace. He dropped his umbrella, using both his hands to grab your waist, and kissing you in the rain.
His tongue was invading, seeking every corner of your mouth desperately. Fuck, he missed this. He missed you so much. And he didn't even care if the rain was slowly ruining his hair and clothes, as long as he had you right here in his arms.
It was a dangerous dance underneath the cold waters beneath the rain. Two lovers, hopelessly trying to heal their broken hearts. Their lips tangled together like it was their last chance to be like this again.
"Satoru..."
"I'll take you home..."
How did you let yourself become weak for him?
You handed him a towel as both of you entered your home. Despite how upset you are with him, you couldn't possibly just leave him wet by the rain and catch a cold. You were just being nice, you said to yourself. It's not because of your affection towards him, you're just being a helpful woman who still has a heart so you invited him into your house. Thats it, that's all there is, perhaps.
Before you can leave him, Satoru holds your hand, electrifying the two of you to stop you from your tracks. You tried to look at him in the eye, but it was impossible. Satoru doesn't even try to hide how much he's hurting in front of you, and that just doubles the pain that you're feeling right now.
"Let's talk..." He said weakly. "Please? I'm not leaving if we don't talk."
"Satoru, please, just let it go..."
"No," he shakes his head stubbornly. "You mean so much to me."
Your breath hitched as he pulled you close, cupping your cheeks with both hands as he leaned his forehead against yours.
"It's true, we did make a bet..." He closed his eyes, the words falling in his mouth felt like daggers shot straight to his heart. "And I hate myself for it. For being a prideful jerk who wanted to prove he can have whoever he wants, and hurting you in the process..."
Satoru breathed heavily, his hands rubbing circles on your cheek. "Before I knew it, I was down badly on my knees. I wanted you. I love you. I wanted to spend each and every waking moment with you. And I told Suguru, and Shoko, that I wanted to stop whatever game we agreed upon, so I can start loving you truthfully..."
"Satoru..."
"And I felt so alive, baby. When you told me you love me too, when you let me be your boyfriend, when you finally accepted my love for you. Fuck, I can die a happy man. I just... love you. I love being loved by you. I love it when you let me love you. I love it when you do nothing and it just drives me wild. I love it every time I see your eyes looking at me. I love hearing your voice, seeing you smile, and love it even more when you let me hold your hand! I love every single piece of your soul, and I want you. I want to always be with you. My heart aches for you, baby... please..."
He was crying. Oh, god, he was crying as he confessed everything to you. And you swear your heart wants to come out from your chest.
Your heart was swelling, he was mending your bruises, healing your scars in every word he uttered. Your tears were falling nonstop, and your hands quiver to place it above his.
"Satoru..." You sobbed, looking at his helpless blue eyes who'd been crying buckets as well. "I hate the fact that I love you so much."
Satoru heaved a gasp as he pulled you to his embrace, sealing you in a wet kiss. Somehow, it didn't even feel cold anymore now that you have your arms around him again.
His face settled on your neck, and he was catching his breath. He ran his hands in your hair, holding you tight as if he was afraid to let you go.
"Don't leave me again..."
"I won't. I promise." You let out a low chuckle. This time, you cupped his cheek so he could look at you. "I love you so much, Satoru. I'm so sorry for hurting you."
"I deserved it." He smiled. Finally, he was smiling at you. "And I love you more."
Satoru made sure he's not letting you escape this time. Everyday, he's going to make it up to you. He's going to tell you how much he loves you, and he's going to make sure you'll never even forget it until you fall asleep. He's going to love you like it's breathing, and he promised to himself he's going to love you until the next lifetime.
***
i know i said I'll do the part 2 of my Suguru fic, but im so sorry this was in my head for ages 😭 i promised ill start part 2 in a while... anyways, thanks for reading! its not proofread so im sorry for any typographical errors and spelling ^^
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selineram3421 · 3 months
Note
can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)
*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!
Hissy Kitty
Prologue
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Alastor X Reader
Warnings⚠
⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠
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Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.
Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.
"What the fuck are you doing here!?"
"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.
He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.
"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.
"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.
"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.
"Husker!"
Shit.
He was pissed that he was too late.
"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."
"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.
You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"
Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.
"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.
After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.
How interesting..
"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"
"I'm-"
"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."
"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.
Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.
"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"
"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"
Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.
"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"
"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.
"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.
"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.
"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.
"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"
"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"
The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.
"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."
"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.
"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."
"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."
"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.
"Only for a few hours!", he replied.
You stayed longer than a few hours.
Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.
Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.
"So Husky~", Angel slid over.
"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.
"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"
"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.
.
"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.
"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"
You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.
"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.
"What.", your brother growled.
"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"
"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.
"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."
The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.
"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."
"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.
"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"
You were near Alastor most of the day.
Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.
"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.
All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.
"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."
"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."
Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.
"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.
"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.
The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.
"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.
"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.
The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."
"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.
"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.
The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.
Oh how entertaining~
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I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.
~Seline, the person.
Part 1
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?
ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾
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incognit0slut · 5 months
Text
All I Need
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Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:
Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making
words: 2077
A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲
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“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”
SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.
He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.
"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.
He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.
But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.
Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.
Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.
Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.
You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.
As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.
Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless. 
The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me." 
Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.
He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."
Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"
The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."
A whine broke out of you.
"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."
You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.
Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.
The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.
"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"
You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."
He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."
When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.
They were so full of love.
And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.
You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.
"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.
You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.
"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."
His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.
There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.
"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.
He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"
Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.
"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."
You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"
Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.
Marry me.
You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?
And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.
You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.
You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.
"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."
He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."
His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.
"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."
A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.
You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.
He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion. 
And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.
.
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leviismybby · 6 months
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How the aot veterans notice that you and Levi are secretly an item...
Erwin
Let's be honest, he knew it even before you two got together. Erwin is a very observing man, hardly anything that is going on in the headquarters can get past him. The first time he noticed that something was up was when Levi started to butt in while he was doing the plans for expeditions, always sneakily trying to put you in the safest position possible. It was always "Name isn't skilled enough to be here" or "She would do better if you put her over here". Another thing he noticed is that you two started to attend meetings late with some lame excuse, he just dismissed it but enjoyed how much you both struggled to keep the act up.
However one day you two don't show up to work at all, spending all day having "fun" in Levi's room and the excuses Erwin heard the next almost made him laugh. "And where were you two?" He asked as you and Levi entered his office, his eyebrow raised. "We were busy." Levi says but he knows that it's not enough. "I was giving her private training all day yesterday." Erwin nods, not believing a single word. "Is that so? And why didn't you inform me about this?" Levi scoffs, he knows he shouldn't lie to Erwin but he can't just say that you two were fucking like rabbits the whole day yesterday. "I thought that it wasn't important." Erwin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose at Levi's words. "For Ymir's sake just say that you two were having sex and stop with this nonsense." Your mouth drops right open at the commander's words, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks meanwhile Levi scoffs at Erwin. Guess he did not have to lie to his superior officer anymore, the cat was out of the bag anyway.
Hange
It was their number-one entertainment besides spending the whole day doing titan research. They noticed it mostly because of Levi and how his behavior would change around you. Little things like, how often he sat next to you, how close the two of you would stand to each other anytime you were next to one another. One of the biggest giveaways was Levi's hand on your lower back which suggested that the two of you were already intimate with one another. They saw you once brush a fur off his uniform jacket, that was where Hange got their confirmation. For the next few weeks, they noticed even more, on one occasion, you had your hand resting on his thigh while you two were sitting down. It took everything in them not to bug you or Levi about it that is, until they saw love bites on your neck, they couldn't help but look at your neck and that's when they had to say something. "Damn name. Someone is getting it good huh?" You start to cough at their words and Levi looks up from his tea. "What are you talking about?" Hange snickers. "Your neck, Levi isn't going easy on you is he?" "Shut the fuck up four-eyes."
Miche
He is the one who keeps his nose out of everyone's business but even he couldn't help but feel intrigued when he noticed that Levi had your scent on him one morning. "Hmm.." He would hum, finding it strange just how strong your smell on Levi was. So he waited to see if you would smell like Levi too and he got his opportunity when you sat next to him in the mass hall at dinner. He side-eyes you, you indeed had Levi's cologne on you. "Mhh..." He hums again and looks between you and Levi. "So do you two use the same shampoo and soap or?" Miche asks, looking at your reactions. "What are you japping about?" Levi asks, already annoyed that Miche is asking such a thing. "Don't play me for a fool. You two smell like each other. Why is that?" You and Levi stay quiet and the silence is enough for Miche. "Ah, I see..." He can't help but nod in approval. "Well good luck. At least know we know where Levi is taking his stress out."
Nanaba
Now....she downright catches you two making out and it was by pure accident. She borrowed a shirt from you and wanted to return it so you told her to just bring it to your room when she had the time. Bad idea. Levi was sitting on your bed, you on his lap as you kissed passionately. His hands were rubbing your back under your shirt, you moaned softly against his lips. Levi's hands move to your hips and he grinds you on top of him, you get the message, and just as you are about to pull your shirt over your head when. "Name here is your shirt back- oh..." Nanaba stood in the doorway, her eyes going wide as she saw the position you two were in. It took a few seconds to register what happened but Levi spoke before you. "Fucking...fuck off. Can't you see we are busy?" He says, his voice harsh, his hands still on your hips. Nanaba chuckles. "Alright, alright, keep on....yeah. And use protection" "Out!" Levi yells and Nanaba smiles before closing the door behind her. "....I forgot to lock the door..." You try not to laugh at the situation when you see Levi's annoyed face. "Whatever. Now let's get back to what we were starting." You smile as he resumes kissing you.
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specshroom · 25 days
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*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*
Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?
In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄
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You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.
The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.
Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.
The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.
Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.
"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.
He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.
"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"
The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.
"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"
Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.
"Hey!"
"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.
You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,
"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."
The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.
"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.
It's quiet for a minute until you ask.
"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."
The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.
"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."
"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.
"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.
"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.
"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"
You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.
You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.
"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.
He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.
"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.
Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.
"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."
You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.
"You're serious?"
You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,
"This is what I do."
The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.
"Magic. I mean.... magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.
"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."
"We?"
"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight lit-"
"Alright! Alright."
Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.
"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."
"...Alright. That sounds good."
You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."
"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."
He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.
"Cmon. Sit."
You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Now?"
He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.
"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."
You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best friends.
You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.
"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."
He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.
Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,
"can I sit?"
He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."
You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.
Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.
An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.
"That should do it."
You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.
"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."
Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"
He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.
"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."
Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.
"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"
You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.
Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.
You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.
This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"
You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.
You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.
You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.
You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.
"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.
"Nononono, Please no. Please."
Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.
"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.
"I need you."
Your heart jumps in your chest.
"I need you to fuck me...please"
You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.
"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."
You reach down to gently hold his proportionately massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.
"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"
All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.
"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling me up so good!""
You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.
"I've got you big guy."
You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.
Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.
You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.
You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.
After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.
You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.
"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,
"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."
You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.
"You're a size queen."
You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.
"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."
You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.
"Shut up, you're the one with the-"
"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."
Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.
"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"
He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.
"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"
You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.
"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"
"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."
You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.
"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."
He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.
You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.
"If you ask nicely."
He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.
You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.
"Please fuck me Grim."
Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.
You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.
He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.
It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.
You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.
You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.
Knock knock knock
You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.
Knock knock knock
"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"
The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.
"BOY! What do you want?!"
You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.
"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"
Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.
"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."
"But I was-"
"Tomorrow."
The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.
"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"
Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.
"Thank you for...helping out"
He says, quite genuinely.
"Anytime."
You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Anytime?"
You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.
"Just unbelievable."
You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.
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