#this one is just the one I guess I would feel i get the least but that doesn’t mean I don’t get it st all JDJNCNC

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 I, CARRION

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.

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.”

“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.”

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.”

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

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 5

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt6

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)

Description: Cooper starts to soften up.

Notes: This one is a bit longer! I might be a little slower between parts from now on as it is finals season and I'll be graduating with my bachelor's degree (yay!) plus I work full time. As always, any critiques are welcome!

The air between us after the hug attempt was thick with tension. We walked in silence as we made our way into the wasteland, clear tracks in the sand making the target easy to follow. I was sure that the look on my face was pathetic, like a kicked puppy. I tried to hide my hurt at first, but it didn't seem like he cared much since he had hardly even glanced at me since we left Ma June's shop anyway. At least I had Whilzig's dog. I knew he was just there to help us track his master, but his presence felt comforting. Without him, I think the tension between Cooper and I would be too much to handle. 

I glanced over at the ghoul every so often. I was hoping I would catch him glancing back, a sign that he did in fact, give a damn about me. I felt deflated. Any hope I had about his feelings for me had vanished. 

I let a quiet sigh escape my lips as I looked down at my feet. 

This seemed to get his attention as he stopped in his tracks and whipped around to face me. "Stop it." He said sternly, a look of annoyance on his face.

I was sure that my face did little to hide the horror I felt at his reaction. "I am just tired." I tried to lie.

"Sure." He said back, crossing his arms. He clearly knew I was lying.

I felt anger prickle up inside me. "Why are you looking at me like I did something wrong? I didn't." I exclaimed. "I hugged my friend. At least I thought I did."

He didn't respond to this, instead opting to look out into the never-ending sand.

"Let's just keep going," I mumbled as I stomped past him.

Growing up I loved the sun. I loved to feel its warm rays on my skin as it shined through the window. Now? Now I hated it. We had barely been in the Wasteland that long, and I already felt like the heat was suffocating me. It didn't seem to bother Cooper though. He showed no sign of tiring or discomfort. "One of the perks of being a ghoul I guess." I thought to myself bitterly.

After what felt like ages, our furry companion barked and started running towards a large piece of metal. Cooper and I exchanged looks before picking up our pace to catch up to him. 

"What the hell?" I mumbled as I pinched my nose and looked away from the headless body.

Cooper crouched down next to Whilzig, a look of mild confusion on his face before looking out into the wasteland. One of his coughing fits started as he took his pack off of his shoulder and put it on the ground, rummaging through it. He found what he was looking for quickly, a metal tin with a couple of vials of Radaway inside. Despite being angry with him, I looked down at him, concern evident on my face. Almost like he could sense it, he looked up at me as he put the vial into his inhaler. His eyes closed and a look of relief washed over his face as he breathed it in. He let out one more soft wheeze as he collected himself. 

"Cooper?" I asked softly. 

"Yeah, Darlin'?" He replied while getting up from the ground.

"I'm sorry." I started. "I am sorry for huggin' you. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His eyes bore into me while he contemplated his response. "You're okay Darlin'." He said quietly. "I am just an ill-tempered old man."

I let out a small giggle. "I would've said cranky, but ill-tempered is a nicer way to put it."

He let out a loud bark of a laugh in response. "Come on let's go find the rest of im'." He said as he patted my shoulder.

As we started to walk away from the body, Cooper let out a clicking noise, getting the dog's attention. The dog barked in response as he chased after us.

"How old are you anyway?" I ask curiously.

He hummed in response, "Old."

I decided not to press it further, his short response suggesting it wasn't something he wanted to discuss. This time, our silent march was much more pleasant. The tension from earlier was gone. I was exceeding grateful for this change. As the sun started to set, I felt relieved. The heat didn't feel quite as terrible as the sun started to fade behind the horizon.

"Good a spot as any," Cooper said as he peaked inside a half-crumbled building. 

I sighed in relief. "God my feet are killing me. I think I've done more walkin' with you than I have in my entire life."

He let out a breathy laugh, "And you are gonna do a lot more, sugar."

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep in the sand curled up next to Whilzig's dog.

-

I slowly peeled my eyes open as I felt someone gently shaking me. My bleary eyes peered up to see the face of my traveling companion.

"Mornin' Darlin'." He smirked at my dazed and exhausted face. "Sleep well?"

I just grumbled in response. I slowly raised to my feet, wincing as the pressure on them began to build. I felt his eyes on me as he raised his bag to his shoulder. I sighed as I reached down to pick up my bag as well. 

"When we get this bounty, I am gonna sleep for a week." I say with a soft groan.

"Gimme that." He said as he ripped my bag from my hands and threw it over his empty shoulder. He chuckled at the surprised look on my face. "Can't have your pretty ass slowin' me down."

I stood there for a moment and replayed our exchange in my head before finally running after him. "He keeps calling me pretty." I think to myself while a blush creeps over my cheeks.

"You know," I started, feeling bold. "I think we are a great team."

He glanced over at me, an amused look on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I hummed happily. "I am really glad I met you." 

An unrecognizable look washed over his face. Hesitation? Confusion? Fear? It looked like all of those emotions, all at once.

I gave him a weary smile, "Even if you won't let me hug you." I admit.

He hesitated, almost looking like he was going to say something before he stopped himself. 

"Hey, Dog Meat!" He yelled up at the dog, "Don't go far."

"Dog Meat?" I mused, "Really?"

"That's what he is, ain't he?" he replied, smirking.

I knew he was trying to change the subject. He was uncomfortable again. So, I decided to let him as I let out a small giggle. "Sure, Cooper."

We continued along, getting closer and closer to the derelict city. The silence was only interrupted by the occasional bark from Dog Meat. We happened upon an oasis, the water inviting, almost trying to trick me into taking a dip. I knew better than that. We could hear a commotion in front of us as we started to slow down, quieting our footsteps. Cooper turned to me and put a finger to his lips, silently shushing me. Someone else was there. The bounty?

 No, it was the vaultie. I stayed behind as Cooper snuck up behind her. She only noticed his presence once she heard the cock of his gun.

"Hello again." She said, her eyes filled with fear.

He greeted her by hitting her over the head with the butt of his gun. I grimaced as she fell to the ground. 

"Where is it?" He snarled. "The head."

She whimpered on the ground quietly while Cooper picked up her bag and emptied the contents into the dirt.

Cooper got angry as he realized the head wasn't there. He cocked his gun again, ready to shoot her. 

"Okay, okay, I don't know where it is. Okay? I lost it." The vaultie begged. "I lost it."

Cooper let out a soft hum as he looked around, it seemed like he already knew what he was looking for when he put his boot in a pile of dung. I made a disgusted face.

"Did you seriously have to do that?" I mumbled. This brought the vaultie's attention to me. She was so caught up in her fear of Cooper she didn't even realize I was there.

"A gulper got it, huh?" He said as he turned back to the vaultie before grabbing her by the hair. 

She cried as she begged for mercy as he dragged her to the dock. Once there, he tied a rope with an anchor on the end around her body as well as bound her feet. I just watched from afar, feeling slightly bad for the girl. Dog Meat was barking so loudly I could hardly hear them.

"Stop! Please!" She begged as she wiggled, trying to break free. "My dad, he's an overseer. He got taken by Raiders and I need that head to get him back. If you help me find him, he'll do whatever you want!"

Instead of responding, Cooper just pushed her into the water. The rope she was bound with was connected to a piece of metal I did not recognize, but it kept her from sinking to the bottom. She splashed around as she panicked. 

"Stop! Stop! Torture is wrong!" She cried out when he brought her back up out of the water.

Cooper let out a scoff. "You know, they used to do these things called studies. Why, you couldn't open a newspaper without reading about one study or another. Anyways, one particular study came out and it said torturing a person, don't do shit." He replied as he dropped her back into the water briefly before bringing her up again. "It made sense. I mean a man hurts me? I wouldn't want to do him any favors. And yet the practice of torture failed to vanish from this earth. In fact, as time marches on, I've personally noticed a decided uptick in the amount of torture being doled out across the board." He continued as he picked off a small creature from her back and fed it to Dog Meat.

"Sir, please. I need the head. It's the only way I can get my father back." The vaultie begged again. I admired her spirit. I debated asking Cooper to stop, but I bit my tongue instead.

"My point is," Cooper replied, ignoring her pleas. "If you ask me, them studies, they were right. Torturing a person don't do shit."

"Then why are you doing this?" She asked, exasperated. 

"Well, I ain't torturing you, sweetheart. I'm using you as bait." He explained before dunking her in the water again. I hated to admit it, but I felt a tiny bit of jealousy in my chest at the nickname. I knew I shouldn't be jealous, he obviously held little love for her.

Cooper started to whistle as he got closer to the edge of the dock like he was beckoning something near. It was at this point that I realized I had been slowly inching closer to them this whole time as my feet finally met the dock.

"What is a gulper?" I asked Cooper curiously.

"A monster, darlin'. Careful." He said, realizing how close I was getting to the water. He grabbed his knife off the wooden box he put it on earlier and tied a rope around it. He clearly had a plan.

The vaultie started crying out in the water and flailing around even more than usual. This caused Cooper to try and lift her out of the water again, but the machine he was using was stuck. 

"Cooper!" I cried out, realizing she was going to drown.

He sprang into action as he grabbed a hook, moving the entire machine to pull her out. As she was pulled onto the dock, a giant pink creature followed her. He was right. That was a monster. I ran up to the vaultie and grabbed her shoulders as I tried to pull her away, but the anchor tied around her was stuck in the gulper's mouth. She kicked at the creature violently as Cooper stuck it with his knife. The gulper got ahold of her leg and swung her around, pushing me into the water. I thrashed around as I tried to find something to hold onto. 

"Cooper!" I yelled before I finally was able to grasp ahold of the dock. I could hear the tussle above me and the gulper finally cry out and fall back into the water. 

I could hear Cooper gasping for air as he crawled over to me. "Give me your hand, sugar."

I quickly did as I was told. He pulled me out of the water and onto the dock with ease. He got up and looked out into the water, wincing as he realized the head was gone once again.

"Cooper," I said softly. "Your bag."

He moved swiftly, going straight for his tin of Radaway. At the realization that it was completely crushed he pointed his gun back at the vaultie.

"Motherfucker!" He shouted angrily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should've just let you use me as bait in a poison river!" The vaultie yelled back.

Cooper lowered his gun before turning back around to the water. "Fuck!" He screamed.

I finally stood up and waddled my way over to him. My clothes were soaked, uncomfortably sticking to my skin. This caught his attention, he put his hand on my cheek as he briefly scanned my body, looking for injuries. "I am fine." I hummed, my heart squeezing in my chest at his show of affection. It wasn't much, but it showed how much he cared.

"You can't treat people like this!" The vaultie interrupted.

"Yeah, why's that?" Cooper asked, his mind obviously elsewhere. 

"Because of the golden rule." She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Do unto others as you would have done unto you."

I gave her an amused look as I let out a small laugh. "The golden rule, huh? I don't think he follows that."

"Those gulpers digest real slow. You got time." Cooper said to himself.

I put the hand on his shoulder reassuringly, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked at me for a second before hurrying over to pick up our bags. "We gotta go." He pulled out his lasso and made his way to the vaultie.

"No. no, no, no, no." She begged as he put it around her neck. "Where are we going? What about the head? I need the head to get my dad back."

"Yeah, well, the wasteland's got its own golden rule," Cooper replied, dragging her along.

"Yeah, what's that?" She asked.

"Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time." Cooper sighed.

"What about the dog?" I asked, scurrying after him.

"He ain't ours." He responded curtly.

I frowned at him. I had gotten attached to Dog Meat, but the determined expression on Cooper's face kept me quiet. Wherever we were going, it was important.

Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard x reader #fallout tv series #the ghoul x reader #fallout

[storiesofsvu]

Welcome Home

Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, smut, minor daddy kink, lots of praise.

Coming home from work had always been a form of relief for Aaron, knowing that his day was done, and he was able to relax at least a little bit before doing it all again tomorrow. But this Friday was different, this Friday not only was it a guarantee that he had two days off, he also wasn’t coming home to an empty apartment. Moving in together had been a very easy decision, he no longer had to worry about making a stop at his place before yours, didn’t have to triple check his go bag was always packed and he got to come home to you already in your shared space, happy as can be.

Almost every night this week he had come home to find you in the midst of an IKEA challenge or putting up some nice decorations. Which is exactly where he found you tonight, standing on a chair on your tip toes pinning up fairy lights over the patio window with your favourite playlist flowing through the room. As he put his things down, stepping out of his shoes and hanging up his blazer a smirk took over his lips at the actual sight in front of him. You’d clearly showered recently and chosen to tug on one of his oversized tee shirts instead of actually getting dressed and it appeared the shirt was all you’d bothered with. Your arms outstretched over your head caused the fabric to rise up, the curve of your ass poking out from beneath it as you secured another pin.

Aaron undid his tie, tossing it to the island as he started to undo his shirt, rolling up the sleeves while he crossed the room. Reaching out his hands slid over the curve of your ass before settling on your hips and he chuckled at the way you jumped, turning around when you felt him press a kiss to the small of your back. You were perched on the highest tips of your toes attempting to continue the chain of lights without toppling off the chair.

“You want some help with that?” He smiled softly and you let out a huff of a laugh.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Looks like you were pretty focused.” He nodded toward the lights, and you laughed again.

“I guess. And yeah, I can’t seem to reach it.”

With one clean swoop Aaron picked you up from the chair, resulting in a squeal escaping your lips before he set you on the ground and placed a kiss to the top of your head. You watched with a smile as he effortlessly stepped up onto the chair and was able to reach the spots you never would have been able to.

“That even?”

“Looks perfect.” You smiled as he stepped down from the chair, your hands coming to cup his cheeks so you could press a kiss to his lips, “thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, taking the chain of lights back from him, “it was just the part above the window I was struggling with. Go grab a drink, relax.” You squeezed as his hand, shifting the chair to the left before you climbed back up on it and he was left to wander down the hallway.

Doing as you suggested he got comfortable, changing into a tee and sweats, tossing his work clothes into the hamper and padding back down to the kitchen barefoot to find you humming along to the music as you continued your task. He found a pack of his favourite beer in the fridge, cracking one for himself and grabbing one for you, placing it on the bookshelf you were beside before he dropped into the couch with a satisfied sigh.

The two of you caught up briefly, talked each other through your day while he scrolled through his phone, though his attention mainly remained on you. Since plugging in the string of lights the room and thus you, were bathed in a nearly angelic glow as you continued to work. Every time you moved the shirt simply dared to show more skin and he knew you could feel his eyes on you by the way you kept shifting, the little glances you’d toss over your shoulder to him with an almost shy grin, your cheeks heating. At one point you bent over to grab another hook from the bookshelf and he felt his cock twitch in his pants at the sight of your pussy fully exposed to him.

“Careful…” He warned, a playful tone in his voice and you glanced over your shoulder with a quizzical look on your face.

“I know how to use a hammer.” You replied with a laugh, gesturing to all your previous work and he chuckled, taking another sip of his drink before he stood up to cross the room.

“I know…” he murmured, his hands ghosting up your thighs and your breath caught in your throat. One of his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him while the other travelled up your back, tangling in the roots of your hair, “but I do hope if someone else was to be helping you with this you would at least put some panties on.”

“Aaron…” you giggled, swatting at the hand on your hip. “I had actual clothes on when the guy came to install the dryer.”

“Oh so it’s just me you like to tease?” He smirked, his hand leaving your hair so both of them could trace patterns on the back of your thighs.

“Obviously.” You let out a sigh, your eyes beginning to flutter at the way he massaged your skin, hands creeping up higher under the hem of the shirt, just daring to brush your pussy.

“I think the rest of this can wait.” A steady arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the chair once again and he yanked you flush to him, the bulge in his pants apparent against your ass, “now you know just how wild you drive me.”

“Mmhmm….” You nodded, your body relaxing against him, your lips falling open as he started to grope your chest through the thin fabric, pinching your nipples until they were hardened and you were grinding back into him.

“Open your mouth.” His hand softly squeezed around your throat before gliding up and two of his fingers sunk in between your lips.

You sucked the digits deeper into your mouth, tongue swirling around them, coating them with saliva as he slowly thrust them in and out of your lips. With his other hand steady on your hip he backed the two of you up to the center of the living room where the nest of pillows and blankets was still tousled on the ground from your movie night the previous evening.

Aaron’s fingers slipped out of your mouth and you let out a whine in protest, one that he chuckled at as he pulled his shirt off over his head. His hands found the hem of your stolen shirt, tugging it up and off, dropping it to the floor.

“Relax honey.” His dry hand caressed at your cheek, “there’s no chance I’m done with you yet.” He pulled you to him, kissing you deeply, tongue surging into your mouth and you let out a soft moan into the kiss.

The fingers coated in your spit snuck between your bodies, lazily rubbing at your clit while the other one started to toy with your chest. Cupping the flesh, pulling louder moans from you when he started to pinch at your nipples, flicking at them as they hardened in the cool air. His arm wound around you, hoisting you up just enough that your weight was on him as he squatted and gently dropped onto the pile of blankets and cushions before he lay you down on them. His lips broke free from yours and he left a pathway of kisses down your neck, nipping ever so lightly, pulling a breathy sigh from you.

“Aaron…” you whined, “don’t tease.”

“Never would sweetheart.”

His hands smoothed up your thighs, spreading your legs for him before his fingers found your pussy again. They slid through your folds, coaxing out your wetness, smearing it around your pussy, circling around your clit until your chest was heaving and you were nearly panting. His thumbs slid up your pussy, spreading your lips apart and he could see it fully glistening in the low light.

“Such a gorgeous pussy honey.” He cooed, “and who does this pussy belong to?”

“You daddy.”

“Smart girl too.” He smiled softly down at you watching the way your eyes fell shut when he slid two of his fingers into your cunt. “So wet already… have you been thinking about this all day?” He asked, pumping his fingers in and out of you, “waiting for me to come home and find you indecent? Just so I’d fuck you?”

“Yes…” you breathed back, your hand reaching out in search of his free one, fingers interlacing when you found it, his thumb softly stroking over your knuckles. “Wanted to be all ready for you, surprise you.” You were already finding it hard to focus on your words, your pussy fluttering around his fingers as they stretched you out.

“You’re so good for me sweetheart. So thoughtful.” His fingers curled inside you and your breath hitched in your throat, “making sure I have something so gorgeous to come home to… something so sweet.”

With that he shifted onto his stomach, his tongue lapping up the juices around your opening while his fingers continued to twist and scissor inside you. He couldn’t help but groan over your taste, cock twitching in his pants as he shifted up and his mouth latched around your clit.

“Fuck!” You gasped, your hands threading into his hair, holding his face between your legs and you could practically feel the smirk on his lips as electricity sparked through you.

Aaron’s tongue varied between tracing patterns on your pulsing nub and flicking it with the tip, your fingers scraping at his scalp as the pleasure built higher and higher. He picked up the pressure right as his hand picked up the pace, fucking faster into you.

“Oh Aaron…”

Not wanting to let up he merely grunted against you before humming and the vibrations had you gasping, your pussy pulsating around his fingers.

“M’gonna—” You whimpered, feeling the heat about to burst through your veins and his head nodded, rubbing right where you needed it as his fingers curled up, pressing hard on your g-spot and you cried out, “fuck!” Your hips jolted up off the blankets, thighs shaking around him as he gently fingered you through your orgasm.

“That’s it honey…” he cooed, “so fucking pretty for me. Such pretty fucking sounds.”

Your body still trembled, little whimpers and gasps leaving your lips that were heaven to his ears as the aftershocks crashed through you. You were always so gorgeous when you came for him, splayed out on display, legs spread, pussy dripping all because of him, tits swaying as your chest heaved, body coated in a shimmering of sweat, that blissed out look of pure pleasure and desire in your darkened eyes.

He slipped his fingers from you, bringing them up to his lips and he caught the way you tugged your lower lip into your mouth, a greedy look in your eyes as you watched him suck them clean. He nearly made a show of it, groaning before letting them pop from his mouth.

“So fucking sweet.” He praised, “almost wonder what I should do with you next.” He smirked at the way you instantly pouted, letting out a soft whine, “what sweetheart?”

“Need you.”

“Yeah…” his hand came back between your legs, palming at your puffy cunt, “need what? My fingers again?” One slipped in, but only for one thrust, “my mouth? Or something else?”

“Your cock daddy, please!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Aaron grinned down at you as he shucked his sweatpants off, positioning himself between your legs. His hand wrapped around his cock, thumb smearing the pre-cum around it as he let out a soft groan, “fuck… you always get me so hard.” He thrust his cock through your folds, coating it with your juices, “you feel that honey?”

“Yes…” you whined, your hips rocking towards the touch, “please…”

“Please what?” He raised a brow in your direction as he continued his movement and you whimpered.

“Please fuck me!”

“Good girl.” He leant over you, pressing a kiss to your needy lips as he lined up his hips and his cock sunk into your warmth. You both let out satisfied moans at the sensation, his cock slipping all the way into you until his hips were seated against yours and he could feel your cunt clenching around him already. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Move.. please.” You whined, your arms wrapping around him, nails digging into his back as you pulled him to him.

Aaron kissed the side of your neck gently before pulling back until only the tip was left and he plunged back into you, earning a gasp from you at just how deep he was. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper into you and he made a home in the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he started to pant. He set a steady pace, just fast enough to have you shivering and whimpering in his arms but still slow enough to savour it, to make sure you were feeling every inch and every drag of his cock deep in your pussy, to get it wetter with each thrust of his hips.

From the angle he was fucking you, each movement of his body brushed against your clit, the double sensation having you seeing stars already, pleasure tingling under your skin. One of your hands threaded through his hair again, holding him impossibly close as he continued to thrust into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the movement getting larger anytime you let out a particularly loud whine. He loved the way you clenched around him, the sounds you made, knowing he was the one who was making you make them, that he was the only one who could pull sounds like them from you. Each thrust of his hips he could feel the wetness where your bodies met getting larger, the slick around his cock growing, the sounds getting more indecent with every pump.

“Oh god Aaron!” Your nails started to claw at his back, “s-so gg-ood.”

“Always take me so well.” He grunted back, his hips beginning to snap harder and faster into yours, earning a breathy gasp from you as you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist.

Your pussy was dripping, the squelching noises coming from it echoing through the living room and every time Aaron drove his cock deeper into it you felt new sensations, your entire body tingling, starting to shake with pleasure. The coil was building deep inside you, higher and hotter with each thrust and your eyes scrunched shut, a string of whimpering swears leaving your lips. Aaron groaned loudly into your ear at the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him before his mouth latched onto your neck, teeth sinking in before his tongue lapped over the spot to soothe the burn and his lips began to suck at your sensitive skin.

“Fuck!” You cried out as the trembling in your body blew into a full blown spasm and you hit your peak, pussy clenching down even harder around Aaron as he grunted, his hips stuttering as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“God sweetheart.” He muttered, kissing your neck before sitting up on his haunches to chase his own release. He picked up the pace, thrusting deeper and faster into you and with just how fucking drenched your cunt was it wasn’t long before he was groaning loudly, his cum spilling into your pussy and he dropped over you again. “Fuck…”

Your finger tips gently tickled up and down his back, your other hand coming to his head, scratching at his scalp as he panted above you and you finally managed to catch your breath. You pressed a tender kiss to the side of his head, letting out a very satisfied hum and in return he let out a breathless huff, leaving a kiss on your collarbone. He pulled his head up, his hand coming to caress the side of your cheek as he left a featherlight kiss on your lips and you smiled up at him.

“You okay?” He murmured.

“Perfect.” You replied, stealing another kiss before he gently rolled off you.

Aaron adjusted a few of the cushions and blankets so you would both be comfortable, pulling a blanket over the two of you as you instinctively curled into his side, resting on his chest. His arm wound around you and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, a small smile on his cheeks as he admired the decorating you’d been doing. The soft light cascading perfectly over the living room for a moment like this.

“You certainly know a thing or two about welcoming a guy home.” He teased and you laughed.

“Figured I could start off strong with what I know you love.” You shifted so you could see his face and he chuckled.

“Well what I love is you, doesn’t matter what form it comes in as long as I get to come home to you every day.”

“You’re a sap, you know that right?”

“Absolutely not.” He grinned back and you playfully rolled your eyes before leaning up to kiss him softly.

“I love you too.”

_______________________

@svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks @niyizh @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @emlynblack @ivyflowers13 @ratsnestinmyhair @silversprings-mp3 @ssaaaronhotchnerr @speedynana @tgskitten @madamsnape921 @aaronandemilysbitch @mrs-ssa-hotch @boimlers-gonna-boim @nachofriess @khxna @tinyprettyangel @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @acctualdeemon

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #welcome home #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 35. change my world

"I CAN'T STAY FOR LONG," were the first words out of Jay's mouth as soon as you opened the door for him. "I've gotta finish a project when I get back home. She changed the deadline to—hey, what's wrong?"

You looked crestfallen for a moment, but as soon as Jay pointed it out, you perked right back up again. He took a second to study your expression before stepping into your foyer. Your penthouse was always a little intimidating; growing up, Jay couldn't even imagine stepping foot in a place so lavish.

"Nothing. Just trying to make myself busy for next weekend so I don't have to visit my dad," you replied with an unamused laugh. "You free?"

"I don't think either of us will be; Jennie sent us all a text a few hours ago." He held up his phone to show you the messages. "She wants us to be free the entire weekend."

"Friday and the weekend?" you read off the screen before frowning. "Is that when we get hazed?"

Jay shrugged before he cracked a smile. "Guess you don't have to visit your dad, at least." This was perhaps the perfect opportunity for him to get more information on your family—a golden opportunity considering you brought up your father on your own. Before you could change the topic, he pressed on, "But why don't you wanna see him?"

"It's a long story." You sighed, but it didn't seem like you were unwilling to divulge. Your eyes were gleaming a little, and Jay wanted to believe that you were hoping he'd stay. "How about I tell you over ramen?"

He pulled off his jacket before reaching your dining table. There was only one bowl of ramen set out, so Jay paused before he proceeded to sit down. To his surprise, you sat a chair away, looking up at him expectantly.

"Where's yours?" He didn't mean for there to be an edge of suspicion to his voice, but Jay couldn't understand why you wouldn't make a bowl for yourself.

You propped your elbow on the table to rest your chin in your palm. "I just wanted you to try it. How does it taste?"

"You should eat, too."

"Later—just try it!"

Since you seemed so eager, Jay picked up the noodles with his chopsticks and ate a mouthful, humming with delight when the flavor hit his tongue. He looked over to see you beaming at him with anticipation, and he nearly felt his chest stutter from how flustered he felt as you stared at him.

"Good"—he coughed after swallowing down his food too quickly—"it's really good."

You swelled with pride, and before you could open your mouth to respond, Jay cut you off by holding up another mouthful of noodles to your mouth. His other hand was cupped below where the noodles were dangling from the chopsticks.

Like that, you and Jay started talking about school and the Order while you shared the bowl of ramen. Not about whatever was going on with you and your father. There wasn't much to catch up considering he had seen you several times over the past week, but conversation somehow felt so easy with you.

Jay had never been a people person; his social battery was low and he had no interest in expanding his circle. Ever since he moved to Connecticut, his world seemed to grow a little bigger.

And it seemed as though he had a space carved out for you in his heart, but Jay was sure he would be a fool if he tried to fill that void.

The conversation eventually moved to the couch after you and Jay had finished eating and nearly tackled each other to wash the bowl and chopsticks in the sink. Jay was feeling overly-conscious of your knee touching his and the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the space between you two.

It was when you were showing Jay a picture of your dog, Butters, when you brought up your father again.

(Jay had been secretly hopeful that you wouldn't mention him. The more you told him about your life, the more it tore him up inside as he realized he either had to betray you or his client.)

"Butters always gets so happy whenever I'm home," you said with a pout, staring at the picture of your Pomeranian facing the wind. "He must really miss my mom, too." You looked up at Jay again, grinning sheepishly when you saw the confused look on his face. "It was this whole thing from when I was a kid. My parents are separated, but they're not divorced... it's weird. Their relationship was rocky for a long time, but back in freshman year, my mom decided to just leave as soon as I left for Yale. I guess me moving out for college was what she was waiting for."

Jay's heart clenched painfully and he murmured, "I'm sorry. Is that why you didn't wanna see your dad?"

"Pretty much." With a heavy sigh, you leaned your head against Jay's shoulder. He stiffened up for a moment before relaxing—even scooting a little bit closer. "I just keep waiting for them to get together and make up again so that we can go back to being a family. It's, like"—you sniffled—"so annoying."

Another sniffle. You wiped at your eyes furiously, as if you were mad that they even dared to water. Jay kept his gaze down, unsure if you were comfortable with him watching you cry. He wished he wasn't so useless in these situations. You froze up for a moment when Jay brought his hand close to your face, but you closed your eyes and let him wipe a stray tear away.

"You can't tell anyone, okay? No one else knows about this, like, no one," you continued. "Especially not Sunoo."

"Of course I won't," Jay replied, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "but Sunoo?"

"My mom and his dad used to date, apparently," you said, picking at your nails now. "That's why my dad thinks she wants to leave him."

"Sunoo's dad? But—"

"I really shouldn't get into it any further," you interjected quickly, "because that's Sunoo's business, too."

Sunoo never shared much about his family, so this was all news to Jay. Yet, he was sure he would have found out earlier if your mother was currently with Sunoo's father. Sunoo would've mentioned it, wouldn't he? What was your mother's motive then? Why would she walk out if her intent wasn't to leave her husband for an old flame?

Furthermore, Jay hardly realized that he kept gravitating closer and closer to you, but by the time your head was against his chest and his arm was around your shoulders, he realized he couldn't back away without offending you. He just hoped you weren't able to hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

"Is that why you two fell out?" he asked gently.

"Kind of." You angled your neck so that you could look up at Jay. "What about your family? You're always so mysterious."

"Mysterious? You've been to my apartment before."

"Not that—I just wanna know if you have secrets, too."

Jay swallowed thickly. "Everyone has secrets."

"But I wanna know more about you—your story, where you came from," you pressed, shifting your position so that you were facing him. Jay found it hard to breathe when you were so close. "I feel like you hide so much under the surface."

You have no idea, he thought, rueful.

Jay couldn't think of anything in particular that he could tell you, though. The only secrets he had were ones that he had to keep from you no matter what, especially when it came down to his work as a private investigator.

There was one thing, he supposed, that changed him forever. It wouldn't have done him any good to tell you about it—not when the very thought made his throat close up and his eyes water. He didn't even want to see the look on your face when you found out what he had done, what his client had on him.

"You're, like, insanely smart, too," you breathed out. "How is it you know everything? You even impressed everyone in the Order."

"I wouldn't say everything."

You shot him a pointed look. "Dr. Corvera literally offered you a research internship after lecture."

"Whoa." A faint smirk crept to his lips. "Are you stalking me or what?"

"I just happened to eavesdrop." Jay was far too delighted with the way you shied away from him. "But, seriously, why don't you give yourself enough credit? You're like... Master Oogway."

"The turtle? From Kung Fu Panda?" Jay deadpanned.

"Well, he's a tortoise."

"See? I didn't know that."

You scoffed lightly, voice dropping low as you rattled on, "And you're really good at Calculus, too... and you have a perfect GPA. Are you sure you're not—"

"I'm two years older, remember?" Jay cut you off before he could hear any of your theories, hoping that none of them implied that he was any more of an outsider than he felt. "I know how to code and I know around twenty programming languages, so the math sort of comes with that."

His answer only seemed to inspire more amazement in your eyes, and Jay suddenly felt hot even without his jacket.

"My only useful strength is talking to people," you said with a crooked grin, "which is why I'm pretty good at interviews and making people like me."

"I can tell. You're always the center of everything."

"Rude."

"That's not a bad thing," Jay said, shooting you a sideways glance. "People naturally gravitate toward you. You're just..." The whole package was what Jay wanted to say, but he was afraid that would get deeply misinterpreted, so he settled for saying, "You're just perfect."

Perhaps that wording was at greater risk for being deeply misinterpreted.

Your lips were parted for a moment—whether it was from shock or repulsion, Jay didn't want to know—and your eyes had a new gleam to them that he hadn't seen before. He wondered if his comment made you blush because you kept your head ducked down.

(And he wanted to kiss you. He really wanted to kiss you. This wasn't something Jay wanted to make obvious, but he found his gaze lingering on your lips for far too long before he managed to look away.)

He suddenly felt his mouth go dry while his heart did stupid backflips that you were sure to hear. How was he supposed to get himself out of this one? No, no, that wasn't what he meant—oh, but that was exactly what he meant.

"I'm not perfect at all," you said with a laugh. "Is that how you see me?" You shook your head. "I wish I was good at things like you are. I'm not as ambitious as you are either, which is a total waste. I always feel like someone else should've been born in my place."

That certainly would've made this mission much easier for him, but he felt as though your perception of him was misplaced. Ambition? Jay only wanted to help people, and he deduced over the years that he was terrible at that.

"I'm not that great as you're making me out to be," he said. "I'm really happy you think of me like that, but it's not like I've... changed the world or anything."

Jay remembered when he graduated college with Jake. Back then, Jay still had stars in his eyes and hopes for the future. Despite everyone who told him that his skills were better suited for a high-profile job complete with exploitation and corruption, Jay knew that he wanted to do something meaningful.

But that never happened. He was never going to save anyone.

You hesitated before you said, "You changed mine."

Jay sadly smiled at you, mostly because if you ever found out who he truly was, then you would quickly realize that he had probably changed your life for the worst.

Instead, he admitted in a soft voice, "You changed mine, too."

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ longish chapter to make up for the tiny break i took 🫶

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @zerasari @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct @hooniesuniverse @enhalov @enhypens-baby @isawritesss

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen smau #jay smut #jay smau #jay imagines #jay x reader #enhypen social media au #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #jongseong smut #jay park #enhypen fanfic #jay fanfic #enhypen hard hours #jay hard hours #enhypen drabbles #jay drabbles #enhypen reactions #jay reactions

[tabbedtabby]

good luck, babe! | chapter 2

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)

——————————————————————

When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.

You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?

You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.

You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.

After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.

“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.

“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.

You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.

You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.

“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.

“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.

“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.

“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”

You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”

“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.

“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”

You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.

“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.

Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.

“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.

Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.

You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.

She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.

Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.

Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.

“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.

“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.

“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.

“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.

“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.

Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.

You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.

Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.

Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?

-

After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.

This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.

“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.

“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.

Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.

You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.

Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.

“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?

“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.

“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.

“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.

“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.

“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.

“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.

#mean girls #mean girls x reader #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george 2024 #mean girls 2024 x reader

[lowkeyremi]

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 !

pairing: suna, tsukishima, ushijima, osamu, sakusa, and iwaizumi x fem!reader (separate) note: thank you for the request @nicoleisdumb ! this was so fun to write and a nice refreshing break from jjk :3 miss writing abt these boys. summary: You forgot date night ! Oops... now your man is ignoring you?? How are you gonna fix this? content: slight angst to fluff, established relationships (marriage for a few, hehehehehe I will always find a way to sneak babies in), cursing, kinda suggestive for kiyoomi's part. not proofread!!!! wc: 3.3k

❥ 𝐑. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀

Rintaro is not one to usually get upset when you forget things because you're human just as he is and he forgets things all the time. He forgets his keys at home sometimes, or his wallet, sometimes he forgets his birthday, etc. (never his phone, he always has that thing).

There has never been a day that he's forgotten a date or an anniversary to your surprise. Lately, though, work has consumed both you and your boyfriend. He was handling it better though, because when you'd get home you would immediately collapse onto the bed and fall asleep. Rintaro would make sure to change you into something more comfortable and at least clean your face with a warm, wet cloth and your face wash.

Today was no different from any others. As soon as you remove your shoes and lay in the bed, all of your problems don't matter anymore. It was only around 7 pm then.

The morning had arrived in a blur. Finally, you had a day off. This morning is off though, because you don't wake up with a set of pajamas on or Rin's t-shirt. That was your first clue to something being off.

The second clue was the fact that he is not in bed. Rin doesn't get up out of bed unless he absolutely has to. Usually, he's holding you captive in his arms. Before you investigate, you take the initiative to shower and brush your teeth. When you're in a fresh pair of clothes; a tank top and shorts, you slowly make your way into the living room, sleep still in your body.

A brown tuft of hair sticks out from under your mickey mouse blanket and a body way too big for the couch is curled up on it. Why is he sleeping on the couch?

"Rin, baby, why are you on the couch?" Silence. He's awake, you know it because of the sound from his phone that's muffled by the blanket. Is he ignoring you? There's no way... he must not have heard you.

So you speak up in case he didn't hear you the first time, "Morning, Rin!"

Still nothing. He doesn't even move. What is his problem? Your mood instantly deflates into something sour. There was a hope within you that you would finally get to spend time with him today. Be it cuddles or going out.

Since he's not talking to you, you'll just decide to make breakfast in order to pass the time and fill the silence. While breakfast is being made you try to think of things you could have possibly done to upset him.

Then it suddenly clicks... you wanted to go out with him today. He had planned to take you out yesterday. That had to be it, right?

"Rinnie was yesterday date night? I'm sorry for forgetting. I think you had tickets for something? I feel so fucking bad, baby." Sleep had instantly taken you last night that you forgot to set an alarm or something so you could remember date night.

He still didn't say anything, but he did get up from the couch to get some food. His gold eyes were cold and unforgiving.

"Rintaro. I'm really sorry. I guess my body got used to going to sleep right when I got home. I didn't even check to see if we were doing anything yesterday. I'll make it up to you, we can go out tonight?"

He's not mad at you, not anymore at least. Even though he's not mad at you, he kind of wanted to be. It's hard for him to be upset with you for too long.

"Don't fall asleep this time, sleepyhead." That familiar smile that you know so well appears on his face. It causes you to smile just as wide if not wider.

In seconds your arms are wrapped around him in a loving hug. "I won't fall asleep. Promise."

❥ 𝐊. 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀

Kei is mean and petty about it. Date night is usually something simple like Netflix and some homemade snacks or something of the sorts. Mainly because the two of you like to stay in rather than go out.

He texted you asking where you were, only for you to reply that there was some old close friend of yours visiting town, so you decided to hang out with them.

When you got home late into the night, it was a little too quiet for you. Kei is probably asleep or playing on his play station, you assume. So, without even knowing that your boyfriend is upset, you go through your whole nightly routine.

Upon entering your bedroom you see his body lying in bed, his chest rising and falling every second. "I'm home." Leaves your lips in a whisper. There is no response so you assume he's asleep.

Halfway through the night you can't sleep, at all. It's probably because your boyfriend's comforting hands aren't wrapped around you, like usual.

You softly nudge your boyfriend's side trying to ease him awake, "Kei."

After a few more tries he finally startles awake, "what?"

"I can't sleep." You whine, "I need you to hug me."

"Shoulda' thought 'bout that before you went off with your friend instead of having date night." His tone is sour, from both being woken up and from you forgetting date night.

A small gasp leaves your lips, suddenly the conversation you two had a week prior to last night floods your brain. You weren't working that day and neither was Kei, which meant you guys could have your annual movie marathon.

"I'm sorry baby, I completely forgot..." He doesn't say anything to you and you can't tell what he's thinking because his back is facing you.

With a new spring of motivation you hop out of bed to make some of your favorite movie snacks and grab your laptop, before heading back to your bedroom.

"How about a redo?" Kei turns his body to look at you, he eyes the snacks and your computer. How could he stay mad at you?

"Hurry up before I change my mind." A huge cat-like grin adorns your pretty face.

❥ 𝐖. 𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

"Daddy, why red circle?" Your little son Nao asks looking at the calendar on the fridge.

"Mommy and Daddy were supposed to go out tonight, but work called Mommy and asked her to come." Wakatoshi explains to his three year old.

The original plan was for Nao's nanny to come a little early because Wakatoshi finally had time off of work and so did you. When she came to take care of your son you two were going to go to dinner and see this new jazz group.

Wakatoshi had only told his son part of the truth, you did have to suddenly go to work but it wasn't because they called you in, it was because you requested to work late, so you could have more time off in the future.

The only reason he sugar-coded it was, because he would never want to paint you in a bad light.

The both of you have enough to support the household and live a steady life so he has no idea why you decided to go into work tonight. It seems you'd even forgotten that you were supposed to go out on a date with him tonight.

"Mommy not gettin' dinner with you?" He asks for clarity.

"Yeah, that's right." He gives the little guy a pat to the head.

"So it's just you and me. After bath time and dinner we can do something fun like watch a movie."

"We watch Dootopa?" He asks with a beaming smile on his face.

"You wanna watch Zootopia?"

"Yes yes!!!" That is his all time favorite movie. Flash the sloth is his favorite character next to Judy Hopps.

"Okay, well lets hurry up and get bath time and dinner time over with."

When you arrive home, your two favorite boys are fast asleep on the couch. You make the assumption they've been watching movies all night because Toy Story 2 is playing and neither are awake to watch it.

Nao is curled up in his father's lap, while Wakatoshi's hand is supporting him in case he falls.

You pick the sleeping little boy up in order to take him to his bed. Wakatoshi ever the light sleeper awakes when you remove Nao from his lap.

Instead of smiling and kissing you goodnight he turns the TV off and proceeds to walk straight to your shared bedroom without a word.

You quickly place your son down in his bed kissing him goodnight. You know why he's upset with you and there's an eagerness for you to fix it.

"I totally forgot about dinner, honey, I'm sorry." Those words leave your lips as soon as you enter your bedroom.

Your hurry to change into something more comfortable so you can join him in bed.

"Don't be mad 'Toshi." He grunts, his back is turned to you, so who knows what he's thinking.

Luckily for you he tends to not hold grudges.

"I'll get us a reservation at your favorite place," desperation seeps into your voice when he still doesn't answer you, "I really feel dumb for calling into work today, please cut me a break baby-"

"You aren't dumb, by any means, and I'm not mad. I'm confused." That's when you remember that Wakatoshi doesn't usually ignore you when he's upset about something.

The reason he doesn't say anything is usually because he's thinking.

You wait for him to tell you why he's confused and as you do so you sink into bed. At the point he turns over to see your face.

"I'm confused as to why you needed to work late when you already have so many days off."

"Well- I was hoping the three of us could go on vacation this summer, if the team doesn't require you to do your workouts there." His confusion is replaced with awe.

"Just ask them for days off, if they dock your pay it won't matter. We have enough to live comfortably, I promise." It feels good to finally have your man looking into your eyes again. A relieved sigh leaves your lips.

❥ 𝐎. 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀

"Forgettin' something?" Your husband asks right before you walk out the door to go to your best friend's baby shower. He's leaning against the door frame, his huge arms flex when he goes to cross them over his equally large chest.

Is there something you're forgetting? Nothing rings a bell, so you assume he means you're about to forget to kiss him goodbye.

You lean into kiss him and he kisses you back of course, but there's still a pout on his face and he doesn't look satisfied.

"I love you, 'Samu! I gotta get going before I'm late!" So you forgot about it. You forgot that tonight Osamu was supposed to take you to the shop and fix up a nice dinner for you two at your favorite table. He'd serve your favorite wine and you two would talk about the stupidest things into the early hours of the morning. He even closed early for tonight.

I mean, he can't blame you, your best friend of a lifetime is having a baby shower, and of course she wants you there. It would have made him feel a little bit better if you at least remembered it, but you didn't.

Osamu wouldn't be a Miya if he wasn't at least a little bit petty about it. He's decided he'll ignore you until you figure out that you'd forgotten about your date tonight. Maybe if he's not too sour he'll make dinner for you.

The petty man in question has been watching the clock for the past twenty minutes. You were supposed to be home by now, because it's already 8:45 pm. The baby shower started at 6 and ended at 7, so, where are you?

Just as he asks himself that question, the telltale sound of keys on the other end of the door snaps him out of his trance.

"Hey baby, I'm back!" The door swings open and your pretty face greets him.

He doesn't say anything back to you, he just pretends to be busy on his phone.

"Sorry I got back so late, I stayed to help her clean everything up." Your eyes watch your husband carefully, checking for any sign of him being upset, because he doesn't say anything yet again.

"What's wrong, 'Samu?" Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's definitely mad, now you just need to figure out why.

After a quick change into your slippers and your keys are on the rack you walk up to him, giving him a hug from behind. You rest your chin on his shoulder. He's scrolling through twitter, his personal one not the one for promoting the shop.

"Why are you sulking? You're acting like your brother." Osamu accepts his fate, you know he can't ignore you when you compare him to his brother.

"Do not compare me to that oversized baby." When he hears your beautiful laugh he almost forgets why he was upset, almost.

"Did I not tell ya that ya were forgettin' somethin' before ya left?" The question in his voice makes you think for a second.

"Was it not a kiss?" He shakes his head. Now you're completely lost.

"I was 'posed to take ya down to the shop and we were gonna eat at our table." When he finishes his sentence you gasp in remembrance. Oh shit. You forgot about date night.

"Baby, you can't possibly be telling me I had to choose you or her." He stiffens for a brief moment, then relaxes.

"Nah, I was just hoping ya'd at least remember it." A shudder rolls down his spine when you give him a small kiss on the neck.

"I'm sorry for forgetting, baby. Let's have a do ov-" Osamu doesn't allow you to finish because he scoops you up bridal style and brings you into the kitchen to set you down on the counter.

"Ya better watch me cook or I won't forgive you."

"Aye aye captian!"

"Yer so annoying." He smiles at you.

❥ 𝐊. 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀

"Bye baby! Mama and Dada love you!" Your baby girl waves at you shyly as you and Kiyoomi drop her off with her grandparents.

"I wuv you too! Bye bye Mama, bye bye Dada." Kiyoomi hugs his daughter tightly before setting her down next to her grandma.

"Alright, sweet girl, make sure to be good for nana and poppa okay?" She nods her adorable little head, the tiny ponytails you put in her hair swing rapidly.

As soon as you guys are in the car, a look of excitement flashes in your husband's eyes.

"What?" You can't help smile when he looks at you like that.

"Made us that reservation for brunch like you asked." Your smile immediately drops. You'd forgotten that you and Kiyoomi planned this whole weekend out already. You two had planned this weekend two weeks prior, which is kind of why you forgot and booked a mani-pedi for an hour from now.

"Fuckkkkk." Why do you forget the most important things?

"Kiyo, can we do dinner instead? I forgot about brunch and booked a mani-pedi because today is the only day my nail lady could fit me in."

A tension forms almost immediately when you inform him of your plans. Guilt is heavy on your stomach while listening to your husband cancel brunch over the phone. The rest of the car ride is silent except for the sound that's happening outside of the car.

Your husband is kind enough to drop you off at your nail appointment. You feel so bad as you hop out of the car, so in order to try and smooth things over you offer for him to come inside but he just mumbles a quick, "No thank you, I'll come get you when it's done."

That's how you ended up spilling everything to your nail lady. She shakes her head as she shapes the gel nails into the shape you asked for. "What's his favorite color on you, sweetheart?"

You think for a second before answering, "He loves when I get sage green." The woman gives you a knowing smile and you connect the dots as to what she's referring to.

"You want him to feel better? Take him to dinner and then give him a night to remember with those pretty nails. Works every time with my husband." She says with a mischievous smile.

Your eyes widen for a second, "Oh my- I- we haven't had time to do anything because our little girl requires most of our time, but she's with her grandparents for the weekend."

The nail lady giggles as she goes to find your color. "Honey, if that's not a sign to get laid then I don't know what is!"

When your appointment is over you see the cadillac waiting for you in the parking lot. Kiyoomi doesn't even bother to look up when you enter the car.

"Got your favorite color." You purr with a seductive smile on your face. Kiyoomi doesn't spare you a glance, "Cool."

"Stop being so mean, I'm sorry about brunch. I made a reservation for dinner." That finally baits his attention, he turns to you, a nasty look in his eyes.

"Oh I actually think I'm going to be busy, can't go to dinner." He mocks your voice to make you feel what he had felt earlier. He's being mean, but he doesn't mean it. He still kind of has this habit of getting defensive when he or his pride is hurt.

"Too busy to get a blowjob in the car after dinner?" You know you've got him when he stops breathing for a few seconds. Your husband is only a man, and what kind of man would he be to deny a blowjob from his wife?

"Shit, should have started with that. Let me see your nails." The whole time he inspects your pretty hands there's a smirk on your face.

"I love this color on you baby."

"I know you do Kiyo. Now, let's get home, we have to get ready for dinner tonight."

Having your daughter stay with her grandparents for the weekend was the best decision you guys have made in a while.

❥ 𝐇. 𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈

Hajime has been ignoring you for the past two hours and you can't figure out why.

You know you haven't done anything to piss him off recently (or so you think), so his behavior is kind of strange. Nothing you did made him listen to you either.

He doesn't even let you know he's leaving for work, which reminds you of yesterday. You were so excited to go see your cousin's puppy you'd forgotten to tell your boyfriend you'd be out for awhile.

Suddenly while you're tidying up the kitchen you briefly remember him asking you on a date... yesterday.

That's probably why he's ignoring you.

So of course, being the problem solver you are, you head to the store to get stuff to set up a nice date at home.

You decorate the table with pretty rose petals and cook his favorite meal for him. Candles light up the table and two glasses of wine are set on the table.

Hajime lets out a loud groan as he enters the house, working with a bunch of athletes all the time is quite tiring. What he doesn't expect is the dimmed lights and quiet music playing from the alexa in the kitchen.

For the first time today he talks to you, "What's all this?"

"An apology for forgetting our date last night. I set up an at home date for us." He tries and fails to look upset, still.

"I'm glad you remembered," he pauses, "the day after our date." A snort leaves his lips and you roll your eyes.

"At least I remembered. Hurry up and put your stuff up so we can eat. The food is gonna get cold."

It's safe to say he forgives with the way a lopsided grin adorns his face.

divider: @/chachachannah

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #suna x reader #tsukishima x reader #ushijima x reader #osamu miya x reader #sakusa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #suna rintarou #tsukishima kei #ushijima wakatoshi #osamu miya #sakusa kiyoomi #hajime iwaizumi #suna rintaro x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #miya osamu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader

[bookyeom]

campfire - bsk

pairing: seungkwan x reader word count: 1.7k warnings: the tiniest mention of blood at the beginning request prompt: "What are we to each other?"

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support for my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

"I’m bleeding," you wince. You sit down on one of the rocks, turning your foot to assess the damage. A small trail of blood leads from your ankle to your pinky toe, and you let out a little whine. "Gross."

Who’s idea was it to go on a hike at 5:30am, anyway? 

Yours. Right. It was your idea. 

You’d thought some of your friends would join you – you’re on a week-long cottage vacation. Why would you not immerse yourself in the nature all around you? But only one person had signed up to tag along – the one you thought liked you the least. You don’t even know if you would consider him a friend.

The hike had been mostly silent, awkward even – and then, like an idiot, you’d gone and tripped. 

Seungkwan wastes no time, immediately crouching down on the ground in front of you. He motions for you to put your foot up on his knee and you oblige, wincing again as you move. You can’t help but watch his face as he assesses the injury. His hair is messy from the wind, and parts of it are falling across his forehead as he leans forward. He looks kind of beautiful in this element, you have to admit. All sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You try and fail to suppress a shiver as his fingers run across your skin, and his eyes meet yours in concern. 

"Did that hurt?" 

You feel your cheeks heat up as you shake your head no, before breaking his gaze and looking back down at your foot. You watch as he pulls off his backpack, resisting the urge to comment on the fact that he has a first-aid kit in there (because of course he does), even though that’s what you do. You and Seungkwan are just that – two people who happen to have the same friends, and bicker over the dumbest shit. But right now, with the way he looks so soft and concerned, his lower lip between his teeth in concentration, you can’t find it in you to make a snarky comment. 

You’ve been finding it harder and harder to do that lately, if you’re being honest with yourself. You don’t know when it started to happen, but the teasing between the two of you just makes you feel warm all over now, instead of irritated like it used to. You’re starting to resent the way he makes you smile.

“This will hurt.” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod, unable to find your voice as he presses a piece of peroxide-soaked cotton onto the affected area. You hiss at the pain, and his free hand gives your calf a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “It’s not sprained,” he tells you, “but it’s going to hurt like a bitch. You should be okay to walk on it, but we should definitely head back.”

He starts packing up his bag again, and you wish that you could find something, anything to say. You know a thank you is in order, but all you can manage is, “Since when did you become an expert in sprained ankles?”

Seungkwan snorts, but he doesn’t so much as flinch while he continues to put his things back in his bag. “Being the captain of the volleyball team has its perks, I guess.”

“And co-captain of the badminton and table tennis teams.”

That makes him look up. His eyes are wide in surprise, and you try to ignore how flushed you’ve suddenly become under his gaze. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I didn’t know you even knew that about me.”

You can’t help the defense that shoots back up as you retort, “What do you mean? It’s all you talk about. We get it, you’re sporty.”

“Right.” His lack of response to your quip has you flustered. He simply hums, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. “Can you walk on your own?”

You feel stupid all of a sudden. “I think so,” you respond, dejected by the weird energy between the two of you, and you can feel Seungkwan’s eyes on you as you stand, testing the weight on your foot. “I’m good, just go slow.”

You don’t talk to Seungkwan for the rest of the afternoon. He disappears when you make it back to the house, and all you get from him over lunch are some smiles and a giggle when you guffaw at Mingyu tripping on his own shoes. You spend the afternoon hanging out with Vernon and Seungcheol in the library, ankle propped up as you read in silence. 

A campfire is on the agenda for dinner, and you're told to sit back and relax as things are brought out from the cottage. You’re entertained from your seat by Seokmin and Mingyu as they begin cooking, and the rest of your group comes out one by one. The sun is beginning to set, and the sky is a beautiful array of blues, pinks and purples when Seungkwan sits in the chair next to you.

“How’s the ankle?”

“It’s fine,” you manage, and he nods. He settles in, eyes on the fire, and you can’t help but gawk at him. He chose to sit next to you?

The evening passes without much more chatter between the two of you. Your other friends are entertaining as always, and the time slips away peacefully until Jeonghan announces his early retirement, and others begin to follow suit. The fire is dwindling when Chan, Soonyoung and Seokmin announce that they’re headed in, leaving just you and Seungkwan, and you’re about to ask Seokmin to help you back to the house when Seungkwan interjects.

“I���ll help them.”

You flush at the chorus of oohs and ahhs that echo through the remaining group, but Seungkwan doesn’t even flinch, already maneuvering his chair in front of yours. 

“Come on,” he pats his thigh, “let me see.”

“Seungkwan…” 

He hums, focused on the task at hand. It’s quiet now as he stops fidgeting with the bandage, moving instead to gently massage the sore area around the wound. His touch is gentle but firm, and you feel electricity shoot through you. You’re holding your breath, and you feel a little dizzy; there are goosebumps on your leg from where he’s touching you. It’s not cold out, so you know you can’t blame it on that. It’s quiet, and all you can hear are the murmurs and occasional laughter of your friends in the distance, and the dying fire. 

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out harsher than you mean for it to, and you wince.

Seungkwan looks up at that, his fingers stilling on your skin. He’s silent for a moment, processing. “What, helping you?” He sounds incredulous, and you shrink a little bit back into yourself. He begins to gently press his fingers into the muscle of your ankle again, his eyes falling back to his work as he adds, “Didn't know you thought so lowly of me.” 

“It’s not as if you like me either, Seungkwan.” You wish you could pull your ankle away from him without it hurting, wish you could find a way to hide from whatever this conversation is about to be — but you can’t. 

Seungkwan shakes his head, the disbelieving huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he does. “Unbelievable.”

You cross your arms, defensive. “What?”

Despite being obviously annoyed, Seungkwan is gentle as he sets your foot back on the ground. “Nothing. Just let me help you back to the house, alright?”

You stare at him in disbelief as he stands, moving his chair back to its place before he holds out an arm to you. “No. What? You’ve got to be kidding me, Seungkwan.”

He runs a hand through his hair, jaw tight as looks away from you and mutters, “Fine. Get back to the house on your own.”

“That’s not…” You fight back the sudden urge to cry, blinking rapidly. “Seungkwan.”

Something in your voice makes him turn back to you, and now his own arms are crossed in defense. “What, Y/N?”

“I…” You don’t even know what you mean to say, really, and it takes a moment before you whisper softly, “What are we to each other?” 

You can tell he’s surprised by your question. His eyes widen as he straightens. “I… I don’t know,” he admits honestly. “But I can’t figure out why you don’t like me.”

His admittance lingers in the air around you, and your mouth falls open as you process. “Do you like me?” 

Seungkwan’s hand lifts to run over his face as he sits back in his chair. He’s embarrassed, you realize, and your heart stutters over itself in your chest. “I mean, yeah, but I just meant — you think that I hate you or something, but I don’t, even though you don’t like me —“

“I like you,” you blurt out, cutting him off before he can ramble any further. “I thought that you didn’t like me because you’re always so competitive and want to beat me at everything, and you never seem excited to see me or try to talk to me at parties, so I just… gave up on trying to make you like me.” 

Seungkwan lets out a whine. “You intimidate me! You’re good at everything and yes, I’m competitive, but you’re an equal match and that’s so hot. But I thought you didn’t like me, so I didn’t try, either.”

“Oh my god,” you say after a moment. 

You stare at one another in the dim firelight for a moment. And then you both begin to giggle.

“Are we going to ignore that you called me hot?”

Seungkwan stumbles a bit, the arm he has slung around your shoulders tripping you up a little bit too, but he quickly catches himself. You bite back a smile. “Yes. Yes we are.”

“Why? I think you’re hot, too.”

Seungkwan fully stops the two of you now, turning to you with an exaggerated pout. You can just make out his features in the light from the cabin up ahead, and he looks so cute you could cry. “Don’t tease me,” he whines.

“I’m serious,” you tell him honestly. He looks away, but you can see the shy smile that’s formed on his face. 

“Fine,” he says as he begins to walk again. “We can talk more about that inside.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin @darkypooo

#seungkwan x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan imagine #seventeen fluff #my writing #bskfic #bookyeom700

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 7 - Condemnation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: As you try to cope with Alastor's absence, you find solace with the King of Hell, who presents an interesting offer. However, some unexpected news from Husk forces you to rethink your plans.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, cursing, fluff, eventual smut, actual plot, Lucifer is a cunning shit, slow burn, Husk is going to be in trouble, and of course 18+

3.2k Words

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven (You're on it!)

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

The last few days (weeks?) have been a blur. It was a weird switch going from sleeping terribly because you longed to be near him - to sleeping constantly so you didn’t have to feel your body long from him. Anyone who came to your door was just told you weren’t feeling good. “Just caught a stomach bug, don’t come in! I would hate for you to catch it.”

Today you decided it’s time to finally leave your room. Charlie needs help and there are things around the hotel that need to be done before her meeting with Heaven. You aren’t one to let others down just because of your own emotional baggage.

You throw some makeup on to try to brighten your face. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered but all the crying significantly darkened your eyes. I’d rather not let them see me like this. The less questions the better. Plastering a smile on your face, you head down to the lobby to get the list of ‘to-dos’ from Charlie. Surprisingly she isn’t there when you arrive, so you take a seat next to Angel on the floor. You lean your head against his leg as a silent ‘hello’.

“Hey toots, how ya feeling?” he says without looking up from his phone. “Better, thanks.” You say cheerfully.

“Good! Guess you and Smiles must have shared cooties ‘cause he ain’t been seen or heard from since Lucifer’s visit.” A pang hits your chest, but you try to brush it off. He’s probably just pissed off.

Charlie rushes down the stairs and scoops you into a lung crushing hug, “So so so soooooooo glad you’re feeling better! I didn’t realize how much you did around here! Could you do me a huge favor and go pick up a few things from the city and take them to my dad? He said he can meet you at this address. I have to go pack - Thank you!” Just as quickly as she came down the stairs, she hurries back, leaving you with a short list and an address.

For the first time in weeks, you leave the hotel without Alastor or his shadow close by. It’s not that you’re afraid of going out alone, but you realize you enjoyed his company more than you thought. You glance up at the radio tower as you walk away from the hotel and can make out a dark figure with glowing red eyes staring down from the window. Well at least that’s confirmation he’s still around.

You pick up the few things from a local shop and walk across the city to the address Charlie gave you. This doesn’t look right. The building you walk up to is more of an abandoned warehouse for a drug deal rather than a cozy meetup with the King of Hell. Cautiously you walk through the door which looked like it had been kicked in already. Just as expected, it’s an empty building with piles of trash scattered about. Graffiti and posters plaster the inner walls. You triple check the address on the small paper and it matches.

Sooo now what?

After waiting and pacing for a few minutes, you hear someone call out to you. You turn to see Lucifer standing outside a portal in the middle of the building.

“You didn’t actually think I stayed within the city, did you?” he chuckles as he motions for you to enter into the portal with him. Once inside you look around to see a large open room filled with…ducks? And this guy was trying to give me a hard time?

“Is – is this your office, sir?”

He boots a few ducks out of his path. “Yes, this is where I work on – important – matters. Also, no need for formalities, Lucifer is fine. Those bags for me?”

You almost forgot why you were even standing in the King’s office. All the piles of rubber ducks grabbed your attention and now you wanted to look through them out of pure curiosity. Handing over the bags, you keep scanning around the room. Lucifer notices your curious glances, “Would you – like to see my most recent project?” he asks nervously. You feel your face light up at the offer and he can’t help but mirror your excitement.

He starts to show you all the ducks he’s created, their names, what they can do. His eyes glimmer excitedly every time you display even the slightest interest in one. What feels like a mere fifteen minutes ends up becoming a couple hours. As he shows you the last of his collection, a solemn look crosses his face.

“Thank you for this. I don’t get a lot of visitors and haven’t really been able to share my work since Charlie…grew up. Plus, it’s nice to see you smile, especially after our first encounter.”

Your breath catches at the memory of that night. Not so much the crying in the arms of the devil part - rather the grief you felt shortly after. “Oh – thank you for taking the time to show me. Truthfully, I haven’t had much reason to smile lately so it’s a lovely change.”

His smile drops. There's a long pause as he fights with himself to find the right words, “Did he…Alastor I mean…hurt you that night? You can tell me. I know Charlie is close with him, so you probably don’t feel comfortable -”

“He didn’t hurt me. At least not in the physical sense.” Frowning, you curse at yourself for being too honest. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. He was Lucifer, King of Hell and easily the most powerful in all the seven rings. What ulterior motives could he possibly have or need? He has no reason to be anything other than genuine in his worry for you. He made it all too easy to tell him anything. Rule #1 Never trust another Overlord/Demon

He looks at you pitifully. I hate when someone looks at me like that. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” You force a smile then hang your head towards the floor to hide the truth. The wounds were too fresh. The last thing you want is another breakdown in front of him. He’s seen enough tears from me. 

Two fingers pull your chin up to his gaze, “Your eyes tell me a much different story. Tell me, does he know of your power?” he asks delicately.

Weird, Alastor never really asked me to show him what I could do. He always just said he could ‘sense’ it. Your brows gather at the realization, “Not exactly. He knows I have it, just not what I can do fully.”

He lets go of you with a sigh of relief, “Probably for the best.”

“Wait, do you – “

“I do not know, though I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious. You must have something special to survive down here.” He flashes a devilish grin that makes heat rise to your cheeks.

Rule #2 Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have. Can’t hurt for the King to know, right? “Well you were gracious enough to show me your special collection. Let me show you something that’s special to me in return.”

Taking his hand, you lead him to his chair and motion for him to sit down. “Do you have anything sharp?” you ask. He hesitates slightly before grabbing a small knife from his workbench.

“So - I don’t know how this will work with the whole ‘fallen angel’ thing but...trust me?”

His worried eyes are surpassed by a warm smile, nodding for you to continue. You kneel in front of him and take his hand palm side up, “Sorry, this might hurt a little.” He flinches as you slice into his skin and golden fluid gushes from the wound. I didn’t know angelic blood was so beautiful.

Flipping his hand over, you press your lips to his knuckles. A hiss leaves your throat from the sting as the cut heals and blood disappears. Lucifer pulls his hand away to inspect his palm. “Wow…that is…..definitely something,” he breathed in amazement. His hands find yours as he stands to help you up from the floor, but he doesn't let go. Eyes widened in curiosity, “Do you feel anything when it happens?”  

You shrug, “Depends on the wound. Stuff like that just stings. Other times it feels like my body is getting ripped apart.”

Lucifer hums, drawing nervous little circles in your palms with his thumbs, “The gift of healing is something truly amazing.” He seems to lose himself in thought but continues to ghost across your skin. The light touch from his tracing sends you into full body chills.

“You're beautiful.” he whispers under his breath.

You catch his attention to pull him out of his own mind. “I’m sorry?”

“IT’S beautiful - the gift. I mean you’re beautiful too I just - I mean …” You try to hide your giggles as he continues to stammer like a schoolboy. It was refreshing to see him flustered like this, vulnerable and unsure of himself. He stops to take a breath and recollect his thoughts, “I'm sorry I’m just trying to figure out what you, of all people, could possibly want or need from that…demon.” His voice sharpened bitterly at the word. He really likes to poke the sore subjects doesn’t he.

“I didn’t need anything. And I wanted…it doesn’t matter what I wanted. He made his intentions clear that night that I was only some tool for him. He never cared. And I knew better but yet here I am - “

“Heartbroken…?” 

Tears swell in your eyes as he said the word. Uhg not again…Rule #4 Never let your weaknesses show. 

Lucifer wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you against him. He softly presses a kiss to your forehead then to each cheek, taking your fallen tears with his lips. Your body freezes at the sudden affection. This feels wrong…

“Look, I know things are getting bad out there, but I can promise you safety - true safety. You can stay here. Away from the sinners, the exorcists, him…you can be here with me and away from all the evil that floods the streets –“ “No!” you interject louder than you mean to. He cocks his head at your sudden outburst, looking offended but softens when he sees tears continue down your face. “I see why Charlie likes you so much my dear. You both try so hard to see the best in everyone and want to help. It’s unfortunate such kind souls like yours are taken advantage of far too often.” You feel his grip tighten at your waist as he presses a hand to your cheek. This feels so very wrong…Rule #3 Never bring anyone too close

You grab his wrists, not to move them away but rather to make sure they don’t travel your body any further, “I have ways of keeping myself safe, Lucifer. I appreciate your offer but I can’t…I won’t…hide away. I refuse to be caged when there are people out there that need help.”

He lets out a low chuckle and rests his forehead on yours. His eyes close as he sighs, “Your determination and stubbornness remind me so much of her…”

“Who?” you whisper.

His lips hover above yours, “Lillith.”

This IS wrong. “Luci –“

Before you can say anything else his lips interrupt yours. His kiss is gentle yet unwavering. Your body aches from how tense your body has become. Any other sinner would kill to be in your position right now, but your mind is only focused on one person – and it isn’t the one kissing you. I hate this...

Like a saving grace, Lucifer’s phone begins ringing with Charlie’s adorable baby picture lighting up the screen. He pulls away and answers it reluctantly, “Heeeey you! How’d the m – oh? Yes, we will be right there.” He hangs up with a groan and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We will have to put this to the side for now. Apparently, the meeting with Heaven didn’t go well. Charlie needs us back at the hotel.” With his free hand he opens a portal into the hotel lobby and pulls you alongside him. 

Stepping into the lobby, his hand keeps a firm grip on yours. You walk in just in time to see Charlie bursting into tears and running upstairs with Vaggie and Alastor trailing close behind her.

“Charlie wait – “ Vaggie tries to stop her but halts at the banister, knowing she is far too upset to talk right now. Lucifer finally lets go of you and rushes to follow his daughter, shoving Alastor to the side as he makes his way up the stairs.

His face twists into a snarl at the King’s boorishness. Realizing he wasn’t alone Alastor glances over his shoulder to see you staring. A strange mixture of hurt and relief fills your body seeing him for the first time since that night. He didn’t look like his usually pristine self. He looked…tired? Disheveled? Why does he look like he’s been worse off than me? As if he’s suffered just as much? You notice his smile falter as he looks back at you before turning to see Lucifer making his way back down the stairs.

“She seems to need some time alone.” Lucifer announces with a hint of hurt in his voice. Ignoring Alastor, he walks over to you and takes your hips forcefully, making you flinch at his grip. “I think it’s best I take my leave for now. Promise you’ll at least consider my offer, please? I’d hate for you to..” he glares back at Alastor to ensure he was watching, “…get hurt in any way. You’re worth protecting my dear.” He places a long kiss to your forehead and vanishes in a stream of red ribbon. 

You rub your sides where he had grabbed you to take away the sting. Your face contorts uncomfortably at the remnants of his touch and kiss. Alastor takes a step towards you almost unconsciously. You snap to his eyes, silently begging for him not to come closer. You want nothing more than to run to him, to feel his touch, his warmth, his safety but you know it'd just hurt more. He stops, offering a nod as he dissipates into his shadow without a word.

Vaggie fills you in on what happened in the meeting with Heaven. Your stomach turns at the idea of the Exorcists targeting the hotel and your friends. You know you’re going to be needed more than ever come that day. I need to be stronger; they’ll need all the help they can get.

You lay down for the evening hoping sleep would come easy but find your eyes only burning into the ceiling. The Extermination, Lucifer’s offer, Alastor…Your mind didn’t know what problem to try and figure out first. After lying awake for a couple hours, you give up and decide to go for a walk to clear your thoughts. As you walk through the lobby you give a quick smile to Husk who was closing up the bar for the night.

“And where are you off to so late?” he hollers, making you jump from the sudden break in silence. 

“Just need to clear my head, Husk. Have a good evening.” you continue walking towards the front doors. He quickly catches up and puts a paw on your shoulder, “Mind if I join? Some fresh air sounds pretty good right now.” You shake your head and step to the side for him to lead the way. 

The two of you walk in a comfortable silence around the small path circling the building. Distant yells and car horns fill the air from the city below. “Quite an exit from the King this afternoon. Sure got Al riled up.” Husk says casually. You stop dead in your tracks at the comment, “What do you mean?”

“If Al comes for a drink, it’s just that. A single drink. Tonight you would have thought he was trying to drown himself.” “If you came along to try to guilt trip me, don’t bother. He did this to himself.” you bite, continuing down the path in hopes he would drop the subject. 

Husk stops you again, “I ain’t trying to get in between whatever messed up relationship you two have, but as someone who is usually at the brunt of his bad moods, he hasn’t once bitten my head off since you came around. You have an…interesting…effect on that evil bastard.”

You shake off his hand, frustrated at the continued prodding. “That’s exactly what he is. Nothing more than a selfish, heartless -”

“He can’t be too heartless considering...” Husk stops himself seeing your head whip around. You walk back towards him, keeping your voice low, “Considering?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously and takes a deep breath, “Look he never confides in me. I mean he barely speaks to me other than when he needs something. The liquor really did a number -”

You grab his shoulders to stop his rambling, “What did he say?”

“I - I didn’t even know he had the word in his vocabulary -”

“HUSK!?”

“He said…he loves you.”

If it wasn’t pounding so loudly in your ears, you could have sworn your heart stopped. Any air in your lungs felt as though it was sucked out, “What…”

“That was all he said before leaving for the radio tower. It about broke him seeing Lucifer with you. I never thought he’d say something like that out loud.” Husk says quietly, as if afraid someone else would hear the confession. You stare at him for a while, trying to process what he was saying. Your head starts to spin. Is he just trying to lie his way back to me? Why would he even tell Husk anything? Did he really lose his tongue from the liquor? “I - I need to s-sit down.” your knees buckle but Husk grabs you before you hit the ground.

“Woahh - alright yeah let’s get you inside.”

He helps you inside and sits you on the lounge chair in the lobby, “You okay kid?” 

You finally catch your breath and rest your head in your hands, “Yeah, just a lot to take in today. Thanks Husk. I’ll be good.” He takes the hint that you need a few minutes to yourself and starts to head to his room. 

“Actually wait - mind pouring me a double real quick?” you try to ask but it sounds more like a demand. Husk reluctantly walks back to the bar to pour your usual, “You uh - sure this is a good idea?”

No but fuck it.  

“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you again.” you slam back the drink, not letting a drop go to waste. You needed to feel the burn to ground yourself and prepare for what you were about to do. 

Husk leaves you in the lobby. You wait a few moments to allow the liquid courage to burn through your veins, then make your way to Alastor’s radio tower.

Here we go.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone @phamtasic @ohnah2022 

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar #alastor smut #angel dust #hazbin #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #slow burn #female reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #fanfic #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #angst

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Do you take requests? I have a brainrot here, with the Creator’s child being Childe’s kid

Imagine the one codenamed as Childe have a child, the convos of creator can be confusing to their people HAHHAHA

Or there’s this one ginger child that looks like one of Childe’s sibling but it is really just Tartaglia’s kid

The creator had a:

Carrot top child

WC: 500~

I kinda take request ig? I like reading what other people think of what I wrote and little drabbles about ideas

“He is a redhead but not quite like Diluc’s family” Venti waves a wood rattle In front of the baby's face his blue eyes blown wide and arms thrashing around.

“Such an interesting hair color” Morax covers his mouth, a grin forming at the familiarity with who he guessed sired that child.

“Whoever laughs alone something knows, Morax” the tsaritsa eyes him, her hands tying a small ponytail on “her little eurysaces’s” head. For someone who was so mad at the news she did become attached quickly. A mystery to all but morax.

“shouldn't you be the one laughing then?”

“Stop it, you two” you scold them as you take back eurysaces from the tsarina.

“childe, stop playing around you are scaring the child” you chime at him from the door, seeing him throw the kid up and catching him

“He doesn't seem to care, see?” he holds up his one year old, his auburn hair curling wildly in every direction and his mouth forming a smile.

“He is fear laughing”

“look at how happy he is! A little thrill seeker like his папа”

“Childe!” You yell as you walk to your lover and kid “what did I tell you?!”

And as if thinking you were screaming at your kid for eating a piece of candy before supper Ajax's mom starts defending her grandkid, already saying she was the one who urged him to have some but stops when you pass by her.

“I told you to stop trying to chop the damned wood, your shoulder blade is broken, just let your brother do it!” and she turns around to see her son holding up the axe and a small bunch of wood. For some reason he was bare chested.

“child, put on your shirt! You are embarrassing yourself”

“I didn't work out so much only to cover my muscles”

“папочка, stop embarrassing yourself…”

“Oh, ajax, it's been so long since we last saw you, since you father sent you to the fatui to fix your behavior you barely visit”

Childe settles his toddler on his hip, already knowing how long gossipy old neighbors can chat for “oh, it's been busy since their highness decided to stay in Snezhnaya, having to act as a bodyguard and all”

“Seemingly that excessive energy of yours at least did you some good at last” she smirks a bitter twinge of poison over her words, her gray eyes falling on the redhead on his hip “did your mother have another kid? I thought treucer was the last one, but she did say that about Tonya too” she glances over the two kids fighting with snowballs a few meters away.

His smile feels more forced and a thin vein pops just under his eyebrow and getting mixed with with his matching hair “No, treucer is still out spoilt baby brother, this one is my baby”

“But you are so young! Aren't you around 24? So bad you ruined your youth with such a reckless mistake” she grabs her forehead as she sighs without noticing you exiting the house.

“Oh? I would say eury is rather endearing, and it isn't like Ajax's career could advance much more” the poor lady almost falls over from the scare when she sees your face.

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin childe #genshin ajax #genshin tartagalia

[ecstarry]

@jegulus-microfic / football / 768 words / @bellaxisworld i love you

--- here's a little kiss cam brainrot <3

"But I hate football, you know this," Regulus reiterated to a very persistent Remus over the phone.

“I know, but Sirius can’t make it and he doesn’t want the tickets to go to waste. It’s just one game,” Remus remarked with a hint of something that Regulus couldn’t quite place. 

That’s how he ended up at a Saturday sports match, hoping the players were hot; at least he would be entertained that way. He approached his seats and yelled Remus’ name, but someone else turned around: James.

“Reg? Why are you here? I thought I was meeting Siriu-” Regulus interrupted him, only a Potter could manage to insult him as he was greeting him.

“Nice to see you too James, well I thought I was meeting Remus. So you were also not who I expected to see.”

Before James could give a proper response, they both got a notification on their phone. Regulus looked at his screen to read Remus' quick text: Sorry, can’t make it. Have fun.

“I’m going to kill him,” Regulus mumbled. 

“Sirius just canceled on me. I’m guessing you got stood up too?” James asked kindly, but only received a mean glance in response.

In silence, they took their seats. Regulus was beyond pissed. How could Remus do this to him? He thought for a second that they might’ve been set up, but he thought this ruse was a bit dramatic even for Sirius’ standards.

“Do you like football?” James asked, breaking the silence.

“Detest it,” Regulus replied tersely, still too upset to entertain James’ attempt at conversation. When his brother’s best friend asked if he wanted anything to drink, he simply declined in a polite and quick manner.

But when James returned with his favorite treats and a wide smile to his seat, he couldn’t remember what he was upset about. Regulus felt a discreet blush work its way towards his cheeks as James handed him his favorite candy.

“Sirius mentioned you liked this, so I figured that if you were stuck with me and in a place you don’t want to be, you might as well get a sweet treat, no?” James said casually, as if remembering someone’s favorite candy was nothing.

To Regulus, it was such a significant gesture, but he couldn’t help but feel a little pathetic by how such a simple token could make him feel so warm. If he was honest, maybe it had more to do with who was giving him that attention than the piece of candy itself, but that was not the time to process that.

The game continued, and to Regulus's surprise, he found himself having more fun than he had expected. While Remus would have been good company, James was captivating in his own way. Despite not being a fan of football, Regulus made an effort to stay informed about the current games. A fact that he deliberately kept from James as the other man’s eyes lit up explaining everything. He never expected to be so absorbed in James’ words or thoughts or lips or eyes or arms or smile...

 Oh god, when did James Potter become so attractive?

“Regulus?” His name coming out James’ lips took him out his trace.

“Yes?”

"Kiss cam," James said, pointing at the screen in front of them. There they were, the two of them, with a crowd surrounding them, chanting for them to just kiss. Regulus felt as if seconds extended into hours as James's hand gently cupped his chin, his eyes silently asking for permission. An inaudible yes left Regulus's lips as the distance between them evaporated.

His hand instinctively reached for James' shirt, pulling him closer as if their lips touching was still too far a distance to bridge. He allowed himself this moment, the touch of an angel on a broken man. Every crevice of doubt within him was filled with warmth as James kept asking for more with his tongue. James parted slightly, and the absence of his lips made Regulus remember himself. Embarrassed, he started to pull away, but James held him tightly, his hands not leaving Regulus' face.

Regulus bravely opened his eyes to face the regret that was sure to be all over James’ face, but instead he found something else— something sweet and soft, something only honey eyes like James’ could convey. He was still light-headed from James’ touch, he couldn’t make sense of just how long he had been given access to heaven. 

But the reality remained: he had just kissed James Potter, who seemed just as delighted to have kissed Regulus Black.

Maybe football wasn’t that bad.

more microfics here

#jegulus #marauders #james potter #regulus black #gay dead wizards #james x regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus microfic #hp marauders #the marauders era #rab #jfp #james potter x regulus black #pov regulus black #microfic #jegulus fanfic #jegulus fic #marauders era #jeggy #bella tag <3 #ao3 #ao3 link

[jflemings]

— let the light in [p2]

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 1

synopsis: jessie’s point of view

warnings: angsty as fuck lol, mentions of depression & it’s symptoms

jessie had never been more furious and sad at the same time. watching you walk out of her place with a bag containing your things slung over your shoulder after she had pleaded with you to let her help, was one of the most heartbreaking things she’s ever had to go through.

despite your reluctance to tell her, she knew what you were going through. she guessed that you weren’t maybe telling her the whole truth about how you were really feeling and she made it her mission to help in any way you would let her. she spoke with chelsea’s psychologist about how to help you, you read self-help books and read articles upon articles but you were slipping faster than she could reach for you.

“maybe it’s for the best” niamh says gently, rubbing her hand up and down jessie’s back soothingly.

the canadian stands abruptly “no! god no, niamh, don’t you get it? she’s sick — really fucking sick — and she won’t let me help!” jessie confides as tears begin to flood her waterline “i just want to help. all i’ve ever wanted was to help”

niamh’s face cracks with guilt and sorrow. she’d watched the guilt eat her friend alive for too long now, never quite understanding why she stayed with you for so long. even when questioned, jessie kept her cards close to her chest. her teammates saw her go in and out of the psychologist’s office, look up easy to make but nutritious recipes, skim through articles about how to love someone with depression, but never had she outright said that something was wrong.

“jess you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped” niamh points out delicately “and you can’t make her open up to you if she doesn’t want to”

jessie sighs and sits back down on the couch with head head placed firmly in her hands “i don’t understand what i’ve done wrong. i don’t understand why she won’t just talk to me”

niamh grabs jessie and guides her to her chest as she cries, her tears soaking the front of the lioness’s jumper. the canadian’s hands clutch at the soft fabric and she burrows her face into niamh’s grounding embrace “i’m so worried about her” she sobs harder “she– she lives alone and there’s no one to look out for her, or to make sure she’s taking care of herself”

“jessie it’s not your responsibility to baby her. she’s an adult” niamh says “why didn’t you tell us?”

“because you were all telling me to leave her!” jessie loudly exclaims, pulling herself up “every single one of you told me that it wasn’t worth it, that i deserve better”

the midfielder’s face is red and blotchy, tears cascading down her freckled cheeks as she further works herself up. “there is nothing i wouldn’t do for her, niamh, i’ve never loved someone the way i love her”

— —

when jessie tries to call you to tell you she’s coming to collect her things, it goes straight to voicemail. she gets left on read when she texts you but that’s better than nothing so she takes it as the small win it is and gets dressed in a hoodie of hers you like and a pair of jeans she plucks off the top of her clean laundry. nerves settle in the bottom of her stomach on the drive over and only get worse when she takes the elevator to your floor. there’s a brown box outside your door with her name written on it in bold, black permanent marker and she frowns.

the thought of not actually seeing you after she’s been making herself sick with worry causes her to pause. on one hand, you aren’t responding so she doesn’t even know if you’re alright, but on the other there’s a box at her feet with her stuff in it, so at the very least jessie knows you’re conscious. she nervously bites the skin around the thumbnail before knocking on your door three times and waiting, bouncing on the balls of her feet anxiously before stopping in fear that you’re looking at her through the peephole.

to her disappointment, you don’t come to the door. she picks up her belongings carefully and hangs her head low, trying not to be too disappointed. she runs into one of your neighbours that she’s met a few times when she’s had to leave early for training and sends her a kind smile.

the older woman notices the box in jessie’s hands and frowns “i was wonderin’ why i haven’t been seein’ you around lately” she says in her thick northern accent.

jessie hums “yeah it’s uhh… it’s a bit different” she cringes at herself, stepping aside so the older woman — shelley, she remembers — can get onto the elevator before her. shelley tuts and pushes her glasses up her nose as they fall.

“i hope it all works out for ya, she’s a sweet girl. a bit lost, maybe, but sweet”

all jessie can do is nod as the elevator stops two floors below your own “i’m about to beat caroline’s ass in cards” shelley grins cheekily as she steps out “bye jessie”

the canadian lifts her knee to steady the box whilst she takes one hand out from underneath it to offer a polite wave “bye shelley” she says as she watches the doors close on her again.

the drive back to her apartment feels slower then it actually it. worry clouds jessie’s mind like a plague, the thought of you wasting away, alone and in your apartment making her sick.

through your relationship she really tried to show you how much she adored you. whether it was bringing you lunch when you were at work, buying a bouquet of ‘just because’ flowers or simply just telling you how much she loved you.

it was one of her favourite things, telling you she loved you. she had uncharacteristically said it first one day when you dropped off her boots to her at training when she had forgotten them, giving you a kiss quickly before running off to avoid being late. that night the two of you were sitting on her couch eating dinner and watching trashy reality tv when you quietly asked her about it.

“penny for your thoughts?” jessie asks you as she watches you stare off into space.

you quickly snap out of your daze and shake your head “it’s nothing”

she knocks your shoulders together “c’mon, what’s up?”

nervously, you move the food on your pate around with your fork aimlessly. you can’t look jessie in the eye and out of worry, she places her dinner on the coffee table and sits up straighter “are you okay?”

you suck in a deep breath “when you, uhm… when you told me you loved me today, did you mean that?”

jessie’s brain short circuits and she thinks back to when she saw you this morning. her confession makes the blood rush to her cheeks and she nervously plays with the hem of her old ucla shirt.

she sees the way you’re still avoiding her gaze and places her hand over yours, stopping you from playing with your meal. you look at her with tight lips and wide eyes as you await her answer, your leg bouncing like you’re ready to bolt.

“of course i meant it” she assures softly, placing her hand on your cheek “it slipped out, yeah, but i meant it all the same”

you nod and slightly turn away from her, placing your own dinner on the coffee table next to hers. your lack of reaction begins to make jessie nervous. was it too soon? did you feel the same? has she just made it awkward?

“you don’t have to say it back!” the midfielder rushes “if you don’t feel the same you absolutely do not have to say it back. i would never expect you to if—”

“i love you” you mumble, cutting off her rambling.

jessie’s heart beats out of her chest and her head spins so much she’s dizzy. you were relatively affectionate and you had no problem dishing out compliments and praise, but there were times when you couldn’t really receive it.

the canadian softly smiles and immediately wraps her arms around you, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and she pulls you into her. you giggle as she falls back into the couch, the wide smile on your face everlasting.

“i love you” jessie mumbles back to you “so much”

——

jessie sighs at hearing the knocking from her front door. not only was she not in the mood to see anyone, she was kind of hoping to spend the rest of her day off cuddled up on her couch with the book she’s been meaning to finish. she stays where she is for a moment to see if whoever it is will go away, only to get four more louder knocks in return.

she throws the blanket off herself and shivers as her bare feet hit the cold floor. she all but throws open the door with a frown on her face, quickly being surprised by a woman she doesn’t recognise standing in front of her. she adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder and shifts her weight between her feet slightly.

“jessie fleming?” she asks

the canadian nods “yeah. can i help you?”

the brunette woman sighs with relief “i’m casey taylor, i work with y/n”

dread crashes over jessie and her hand tightens on the doorknob. “do you want to come in?” she asks stepping aside.

casey puts her hand up in protest “no i was just wondering if you’ve seen her lately? i know you two are—”

“we broke up” she interjects quickly “but she wasn’t too good the last time i saw her”

casey purses her lips and nods her head “right. okay. sorry for just turning up like this” she pauses in contemplation. “it’s just that i didn’t have your number and i only have your address because i had to pick y/n up from here once” she rushes, clearly recognising how weird the situation is.

jessie nods as she recalls the memory of the two of you standing on the street, her dressed in ratty old pyjamas and you dressed in your work slacks and knitted sweater. you had been running around jessie’s apartment half dressed whilst simultaneously brushing your teeth and doing your hair absolutely stressed out of your mind. jessie simply watched you run around as she packed you lunch and ironed your shirt, the feeling of domestic bliss lasting well until after you had kissed her quickly and rushed out her front door.

casey clicks her tongue “that’s all good though! i’ll just get going” the brunette turns to walk away, her kitten heels clicking on the pavement underneath her.

“casey!” jessie calls once she gets her wits about her, shaking the memory and following the woman down to her car “you didn’t come all the way here to just ask if i’ve seen her. what’s going on?”

“…we’re just worried. she’s out of sick leave and my boss wants to call the police to do a welfare check but i told her that i’d come to you first” she hesitates, fidgeting with her key chain in her hand “it’s not been this bad before” casey mumbles.

the midfielder sucks in a breath as her stomach drops. the out of character behaviour from you stirs something deep in her and she furrows her brows “i’ll go see her” she says before thinking “just let me… just let me see if i can talk to her, okay?”

casey’s reluctance is written all over her face but she must see something in jessie’s eyes that has her softening. she continues to fiddle with her keys before looking at her watch and then back to jess “okay” she says before fishing a pen and piece of paper out of her purse “please call me and let me know how she is, or get her to call me” she pleads whilst scribbling down her number.

jessie nods “of course i will”

#pegs woso #pegs writes #jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming blurb #jessie fleming angst #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #woso angst

[niningtori]

make you cry | part one

pairing: beomgyu x you

summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.

genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 4.2k

notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;

being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.

you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 

that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.

“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your care. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.

“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.

“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.

“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.

“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.

“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.

“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.

“i guess not,” you sigh. 

“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 

“no,” you say simply.

“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.

“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.

“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.

“i’m fine, thanks.” 

“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.

“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.

“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 

“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 

“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.

“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 

“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.

“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 

“but still bad,” he argues. 

“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”

-

beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 

“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 

“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.

“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 

“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 

“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.

you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.

“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.

“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.

“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.

“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.

“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.

“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 

“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 

“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 

“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 

“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.

“but —”

“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 

“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.

“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.

“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 

“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.

“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 

“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.

“are you sleeping with him?” 

“what, no!”  you say firmly. 

“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 

“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 

“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.

as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 

one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 

“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 

his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.

“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.

“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.

“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.

he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 

“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.

“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 

“do you trust me?” he asks. 

no. not at all.

“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 

your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 

“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.

“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 

“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 

“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.

“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 

you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 

he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 

“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.

“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.

-

fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 

“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 

“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 

“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 

“you know why,” you say. 

“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”

“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 

you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.

“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.

“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.

“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.

“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 

“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.

“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”

any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.

“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”

“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.

“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.

“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.

“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 

“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 

“kai, don’t —” 

“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”

“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 

but why? and when?

“since when did you…”

“since always,” you say quietly. 

“oh, fuck. look, i —”

“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.

“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”

“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 

“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 

“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.

“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.

“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 

“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.

he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 

“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 

“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.

notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

#niningtori #make you cry #beomgyu smut #beomgyu angst #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt angst #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #mdni

[thewertsearch]

According to the spectagoggles, there are currently 13 Daves scattered around the incipisphere, including Davesprite. That is an absolutely preposterous amount of Daves.

Interesting that you're picking up two Dream Daves. I'd assumed that all his time-travelling duties would be handled by his realself - especially since Dream Dave is missing his sylladex, and therefore his time machines.

You're also picking up Davesprite, which would have convinced me he was still alive if you weren't also picking up Doomed Dave's corpse.

At least there's only one Dave corpse in play. Small mercies.

Hang on… The Davecount suddenly dropped from 13 to 12. Maybe one of them time traveled away? You hope it doesn't mean what you think it…

Wait, he only died now? I thought he was already dead in the previous image.

Ah, I see what happened - I mistook the section of Quest Bed that Doomed Dave was sleeping on for a pool of blood. He was alive before, which means the spectagoggles don't detect the dead.

But they did detect Davesprite.

You hear that? That's the sound of hope filling my heart.

GG: dave i just saw you, and you were dead! […] TG: […] dont worry it was just a doomed dave no big deal really […] GG: what about your… […] GG: oh no i dont even know if you know about this […] TG: my bro TG: yeah jack killed him too […] GG: is it something you would like to talk about TG: not much to talk about TG: this is some pretty serious existence threatening shit going down and some people are going to die i guess

Dave's reaction is cold, but completely understandable. Bro was by far the least parental of any of the Guardians, treating Dave more like an apprentice to be violently trained than a child to be raised.

He probably doesn't know what he feels about his brother's death - and even if he did, he'd hide it behind his shades, as usual.

GG: you were pretty close with him right? TG: meh it was a pretty bizarre relationship by any standard TG: fightin off wave after wave of face pumicing puppet ass every day TG: always being on guard for stealth attacks in the middle of the night while getting up to go to the fucking bathroom

I also wouldn't be surprised if his feelings were closer to relief than grief. After all, Bro's death is a guarantee that he'll never have to deal with the man's puppet ninja horseshit ever again.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s108 #3200

[junggunz]

5 | 🔞

summary: Jay Jo tutors you for an extra hour. wc: 2.2k cw: fembodied!reader, smut, university!au, tutor!jay jo, reader tests Jay's patience fr, oral (m receiving), facial cum shot, light degradation, spanking, p in v, all characters featured are 18+ an: since the prompt list had two different number 5's, NATURALLY i picked the one i've been thinking about for agesss.

“First, differentiate this part here…(-S)2 is equal to C2+S2…” Jay explains, using his pen to circle the components of the number expression you were currently working on.

Sitting beside each other in the library, knees brushing against each other every so often, you were growing antsy. It's hard trying to stay focused when all these equations are starting to look the same. And not to mention, your tutor is looking extra attractive today. But maybe that was just because of the residual tension lingering from your last tutoring session.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop interrupting me when I’m trying to teach you something?” Jay says through gritted teeth, his patience long gone after hearing you complain about being bored one too many times. 

You insulted his teaching skills, which led to him getting up to leave. Truly fed up with your poor attitude because it was your grades, not his, that needed help; he only offered to tutor you for the extra credit. You’re ready to let him walk out on you until you remember that he’s the only one who had an open schedule and was down to study with you at any time of day as long as you gave him heads up. Now desperate, you begged him to stay. Unmoved by your pleas, Jay tells you to give him one good reason to deal with you. 

And that’s how you ended up in this position.

Half past midnight on a Saturday, the library was sparsely populated. At least one person had fallen asleep with their face in a textbook. Aside from the three other people in the entire building, it's a ghost town. Not very many people want to pass up the Saturday parties when they can just cram on Sunday. Jay uses the lack of potential spectators to his advantage, making a mess of your mouth. There's no need to be sneaky or secretive if there's no one to witness the lewd dalliance of you and Jay.  Ducked under one of the tables at the library, knees digging into the scratchy carpet while Jay kept a firm hand on the back of your head; bobbing you along his cock leisurely. 

“I guess it’s true. Dumb sluts like you always give the best head.” He murmured softly, the faintest of smirks tugging at his lips as he watched your lips move up and down his shaft.

It doesn’t take long for your jaw to start aching from how wide you have to open your mouth to take him. Even with the slow pace he was fucking your mouth, you  gagged and sputtered every time the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. 

 With the deep strokes he gives, your drool gathers in your cheeks and slosh around with each push of his shaft until it trickles down the sides of your mouth. The way one of your soft hands squeeze and fondle his balls with your saliva acting as a lubricant, Jay is very much tempted into spilling his load down your throat. God knows he’s been craving this type of release for ages. But with how warm and slick your mouth is around him, he really doesn’t want the feeling to wane. 

Caught between a rock and a hard place, sweat beaded along Jay’s hairline, his teeth gnawed at the inside of his lower lip, and he kept your hair in a vice grip. The longer he held off, the more desperate your actions would become. Nastily slurping up the mixture of precum and your spit that covers his shaft, using your tongue to massage the underside of his cock and trace along each of the pulsing veins, and even going as far to flick your tongue across the seam of his balls whenever you deepthroated him; it seemed like you were getting a point of wanting Jay to cum more than anything. 

Jaw feeling like it was locked open for him to use, you looked up at Jay with glossy eyes, silently pleading for his climax. Desperation is cute on you—at least Jay thinks so, and wanting to take in the expression on your teary face, it makes the perfect incentive for him to hold out longer. Reaching down with the hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair, Jay yanks down the neckline of your shirt. Stretching out the soft fabric, he can slip his hand into one of the cups of your bra, roughly pinching your nipple. The tender flesh of your breast is used like a stress ball for Jay; his palm squeezing harder every time you hollow your cheeks around his cock. 

It would be a bold faced lie to say that you never imagined yourself kneeling in the library with your tits spilling out, sucking someone off all in the name of saving your grade. But with Jay Jo of all people? Jay was just some quiet nerd to you. You were confident he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get his dick sucked if you offered. However, that was the only correct assumption you made. He wasn’t as shy as you expected. He wasn’t awkward. And he definitely wasn’t small.

His cock felt so heavy against your tongue. You felt the true weight of it when he pulled it out of your mouth to slap against your cheek. Just the sound of his shaft making contact with your face renders your mind completely vacant. And that’s exactly how Jay wanted you. He doesn’t wanna see any semblance of a thought when you’re sucking him off; you need to save the thinking for when he was actually trying to teach you a lesson.  

Deciding that he’s deprived himself of his release long enough, he guided your hand with his own to stroke his cock at the exact pace and grip he liked. Not even giving you a warning, all you saw was blurry white ribbons flying toward you before you felt warmth dripping down your face. Even in this situation, Jay’s expression was indifferent as usual albeit his flushed cheeks and labored breathing. It was only after he pulled up his pants and handed you some tissues before leaving, you were able to tell if he enjoyed this encounter.

“Same time, next week. Bring your last exam with you.”

“Jay, we’ve done so much tonight already. My brain feels like it’s gonna explode if I look at any more numbers.” You whine, laying your head down on the cool surface of the wooden table. “Can we end the tutoring session? Or at least take a break?” 

“If you start slacking now, you’re not gonna be ready for finals at the end of the term.” He reminds you, using that same vacant tone he spoke with all the time. 

Maybe if he was just a little more expressive, you’d feel more encouraged to power through the rest of your study session. You definitely felt more encouraged after last week. Jay wasn’t the type to make a big deal out of it, but he did acknowledge the six point increase on your quiz scores.

“At least I’m passing the class now! That deserves some sort of reward.” You insist, looking at him with puppy eyes. 

Seeing that your focus had been disrupted since the beginning of the session, Jay relents. 

“Fine, my reward will be helping you correct all the points you missed on your last quiz.” 

Initially, when you hear his proposal, you’re ready to complain and fuss. But when Jay starts packing up his things and telling you to do the same, you’re quick to shove your notebook and pencils into your bag so you could trail after him. 

Now, in the privacy in his dorm, you find yourself in yet another situation you couldn’t have foreseen. In Jay’s bed. Naked from the waist down. Settled on his lap with his cock deep inside of you but unmoving while he looked over your most recent exam. One of his hands held the neatly stapled set of pages while the other rested on the apex of your thigh.

“Didn’t I tell you how to solve these kinds of problems last time I saw you?” Jay scolds you as he looks over the first section of the questions you missed. “You did these problems just fine during our review session. How come you missed them?”

“Aah…I forgot a step of the formula.” You mumble in a wavering voice, struggling to refrain from rocking your hips against his. 

“You should have that formula drilled into that pretty little head of yours by now.” He tells you sternly. “Lift your ass up.”

Obliging to his demand, you pick up your hips until only half his shaft remains inside of you. With your eyes focused on Jay’s stony expression, you don’t notice his hand coming off your thigh until he brings it down on your ass; slapping you hard and making you whine. 

“Question 13 is the same. I even went over this one with you.” Jay murmurs, eyes scanning over your work shown and scoffing at the little mistakes.

“I forgot…” You mumble which earns you another mean spank to your ass. 

Flipping through the rest of your test, Jay does reward you for your good work; letting you bounce yourself up and down on his cock like the needy slut you are. Your walls are slick and hot around him, dangling the idea of forgetting about your test corrections right in front of his face. As much as he wants to lose himself in the feeling of your pussy hugging him so tightly, he can’t. For just a few minutes, Jay allows himself to focus on how hot and wet you are for him. 

That is, until he comes across another incorrect question. Immediately, he demands that you stop moving, giving your already burning ass cheeks several more slaps until you heed to his command. Manhandling you onto your back and telling you to hold your legs apart from him. Giving you only shallow thrusts, he reads off another problem you missed points. 

You look up at Jay with a glassed over expression, trying to focus on him to explain where you went wrong but all that fills your mind is the sensation of your walls clenching around his dick and trying to lure him deeper into your heat. The hand that wasn’t holding your paper menacingly lifts up, hovering above your already stinging ass as Jay asks you what the correct answer is. And now, you’re racking your brain, trying to remember what he said about solving that particular problem.

“Is the rational value negative two?” You ask in a small voice, already squeezing your eyes shut and trying to brace yourself for the repercussion of getting a question incorrect.

“Good job.” Jay tells you, awarding you another spank that’s not as harsh as all the previous ones. 

And then, your position changes again. After listening to him lecture you about everything you did wrong on your test, it’s time to actually make the corrections. Now laying flat on your stomach with your test in front of you and a pen in one hand, Jay fucks you from behind. Holding himself above you, his attention is split between rutting into you hard and watching you shakily redo each equation. 

“You’re too slow.” Jay grunts out, the tip of his cock meanly pressing against your sweet spot as you struggle to scrawl out any semblance of a number. “You can’t spend too long on a single problem.”

“But-” You start to whine out, trying to reason that during a real math quiz, you wouldn’t have him rearranging your guts and making it hard to focus. 

Alas, Jay wasn’t hearing it and only slams harder into that extra soft area deep within your walls, causing you to nearly drop your pen. Your handwriting is scratchy and shaky, looking more akin to a toddler’s work when it’s next to your usually legible print. Taking in a shuddering breath, you grip your pen tighter; desperate to prove to Jay that this kind of tutoring was the only way you could work with him. And the only way to do that was to actually work on your test corrections.

Unlike you, Jay is a very talented multitasker. He has no problem looking over your shoulder while you struggle to scrawl out your work on the page due to the way he was roughly slamming into you from behind. 

“I shouldn’t have to remind you about the order of operations.” He murmurs in your ear, thrusts barely slowing down even as he chides you when you neglect the numbers you had just rewritten in parentheses. 

“For fucks sake…” You mutter under your breath, trying to collect your thoughts for long enough to correct your mistake while also keeping back the moans that were tickling the back of your throat.

It’s funny to Jay; the way you’re able to remember to keep your ass up and back arched so he could fuck you deeper without him ever needing to tell you in the first place, but after weeks of him telling you the same fundamental math principles over and over, the material just wouldn’t stick. But could he blame you? His cock was hitting all the right places and you simply couldn’t get enough of it. Meanwhile, math was a subject you absolutely detested.

With the way things were going, it was going to be a long review session; but totally worth it if all the ones after this would be the same. 

#arminsumi prompts #windbreaker smut #windbreaker x reader #jay jo smut #jay jo x reader #jay jo scenarios #junggunz.txt

[empressofthesunwriter]

Change the Narrative

If people knew the truth, they would call her a selfish monster.

But Katara had sacrificed anything for the world, for an ungrateful husband!

This time she would always choose herself first!

Here is a little one-shot of my anger about what happened to Katara in canon.

I want to give her the end she deserves, so I hope you enjoy it!

Katara knew it was time for her to die.

She felt it in her old bones.

Alone she lay in her bed at the South Pole and watched how the snow was falling.

At least she would die seeing the beauty of her homeland.

It was a good death.

The old woman blinked tears away and tried to be positive about her nearing death.

She would see Sokka, her father, her mother and Gran-Gran again.

It was good.

She had lived a long happy life.

Something burning and unsettling spread through her chest as she thought this.

Was it a happy life?

How often did she and Aang argue over simple things?

How often did she beg him not to play favourites with Tenzin? Yes, their youngest was an airbender, but what about Bumi and Kya? They were his children too.

But no!

The Air Nomad legacy was more important than their two oldest children and their pain.

Once upon a time when she was a young girl and fantasized about the man and family one day she would have, she never would have guessed how she became the kind of mother, who didn't fight for her children.

Who didn't call out her husband for his wrongdoings?

However, she had so with Aang. Since she had met him, she always had mothered him, shielded him from things which didn't fit his narrative.

He was the Avatar, the only hope to end the war, with a track record of running away.

They couldn't lose him, so she had protected him the best she could.

And she did so to her children.

No wonder Bumi and Kya didn't even visit her and Tenzin didn't have much of a relationship with her.

Where did she go wrong in her life?

When did she become a shadow of herself in the name of love?

Why did she even choose Aang?

Was it because of Aunt Wu's prediction, she would marry a powerful bender or because she had a feeling Aang...deserved her?

He loved her and had ended the war.

Was it so bad to give him a chance?

Sadly after sacrificing her best years for him and being rewarded to die alone without her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her, it may have been the most stupid decision she ever made.

Spirits, was she a bad person to think that?

She loved her family, really she did, but deep down she had to admit...she wouldn't do it a second time.

Katara wouldn't sacrifice herself, her ideals, and her dreams for Aang's dream.

She had her whole life given and given and was now at the end of it rewarded with nothing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she slowly closed her eyes.

Soon she would join her loved ones...

Just...

If she could...

If the spirits were so kind...

If dear Yue heard her...

She wanted a second chance.

She wanted to live a life for herself and herself alone.

Katara had given in this life all and more...was it so bad that she wished for a second chance to get it this time right?

Was she selfish?

Maybe.

Surely.

But anyone had a point in their life where they had to put themselves first.

Her only regret was that she did not realise it sooner.

Katara closed her eyes and felt the last beats of her heart.

Never noting how the moon was shining brightly down at her...

***

She felt pain in her head.

Katara hissed and touched her forehead.

Why did she get a headache?

Where was she?

She blinked to banish the shadows before her eyes.

Slowly she could see.

Ah yes.

She was outside General Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se.

The waterbender had seen Aang walk out and wanted to join him.

It was high time that she gave Aang her answer about them being a couple.

She had been unsure a few days ago, but now with the war over...why shouldn't she give him a chance?

He was standing at the balustrade watching the setting sun, it was the perfect moment.

As the waterbender made her first step towards him, an avalanche of emotions and vision filled her whole being.

Katara gasped quietly, trying to make sense of this.

It was too fast and also too slow...however, she felt it in her bones...whatever she had planned kissing Aang and getting together with him...it would be the worst decision of her life!

No, she didn't want what she had seen.

How could she sell herself, her principals, and her honour for a guy?!

How could she be together with someone who would play favourites with their children?!

No, absolutely not!

Whether this was a vision from the future to save her from this faith Katara didn't know, but what she knew she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice!

So angry she walked up to Aang and tapped his shoulder.

The Avatar turned smiling towards her. He seemed so happy and hopeful and looked at her like she had hung the stars and the moon.

For a second she flatter, which only made the vision come forth again and made her anger tenfold.

Oh no!

Not with her!

"Aang.", she began. "I don't love you and I never will! Stop pestering me about us being a couple! If you don't accept my feelings I will waterwhip you do your next incarnation, do you understand me?!"

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. She could formally see the heartbreak in his eyes and how he tried to speak up, maybe to guilt trip her, however, she wasn't having anything of it.

"Nothing you will say and do will ever change my mind! So don't even try. I will go back with Sokka to the South Pole and rebuild my home. That's where I belong!"

Dramatically she turned around and entered the tea shop again.

The others tried their hardest to seem like they hadn't listened in, yet Katara saw through them.

She sends them all an annoyed look.

"What?!"

No one said anything for a few seconds before Toph snickered: "Oh sugar queen, I hoped you had it in you."

This makes Katara smile.

***

The next months of her life Katara rebuilt with her father and Sokka their home. 

The Nothern Watertribe had tried to turn the South into a second North, except Katara was having none of it.

As a war hero, master waterbender and daughter of the chief she used all her power to stop this chances.

She was a force of nature!

No one had a chance against her.

Her family was so proud of her and she was satisfied with herself.

Yes, this was where she belonged.

Helping people and not being the soulless, passionless arm candy of Aang!

Katara was happy.

A voice inside her told her how she deserved it.

***

A year later found Katara as ambassador for her people at the first peace summit.

She was happy seeing Zuko again, they had written to each other, yet seeing each other in person was much better.

He had become her best friend.

And her wall against Aang.

As Avatar he was at the peace summit too. Of course, he tried to talk with her. Tried to sway her, saying he missed her and wanted to be friends again.

She saw right through him. Aang still wanted her.

Thank the spirits for Zuko having her back and distracting Aang.

When they enjoyed together a cup of tea in General Iroh's tea shop she thanked him for his help.

Awkwardly he waved it away.

It was nothing.

He and Mai had broken up and the black-haired girl wasn't happy about it.

Even if she and Aang weren't exes, Zuko knew how frustrating it was to have a person follow you like a shadow and demand to be together again.

In comfort, she petted Zuko's hand and told him he did the right thing to end things with Mai.

If she couldn't accept a no was she a good girlfriend?

A little crooked smile formed on Zuko's lips, and her heart stopped for a second, as he thanked her for her words and friendships.

Then he asked her to join him in the search for his mother.

***

Being with Zuko on a life-changing field trip again was... exciting.

They still worked flawlessly together, like when they had hunted down the murder of her mother, but now they were friends.

It changed a lot of interactions.

They were playful with each other.

Zuko was the only one who ever laughed at her jokes.

They were there for each other.

In the long days when they hunted down one clue after another and Zuko seemed to lose hope, Katara reminded him to never give up.

They shared the workload.

It was amazing not mothering someone and having someone help her around camp.

They were getting closer to each other.

They shared things they never told anyone.

Zuko told her how he got his scar and Katara hugged him, wishing Aang had killed Ozai.

Wishing Ozai was before her and making him pay for hurting her best friend!

Sometimes they just stared at the stars, inventing constellations, their hands inching closer.

Something new was born between them.

Katara didn't know what it was, but she would enjoy it.

It made her feel good.

After weeks on the road, they finally found Ursa.

And also a society of hiding airbenders.

Katara couldn't help but laugh in utter glee.

***

Was it really that surprising that Katara and Zuko fell in love with each other after their journey?

When she kissed Zuko for the first time, it was like coming home. 

Warm, welcome, familair, intim.

It was the best sensation in the world.

Something inside her told her this was how it was supposed to be.

After two years of dating and being the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, they married.

All their friends and half of the world were invited.

Yes, even Aang.

Aang was so grateful to Katara and Zuko for having found his people and was busy with the air nomads to rebuild their society, and seemed to finally let go of Katara.

Now they really could be friends.

***

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, master bender, war hero and Fire Lady became a living legend.

Not only the people in the Fire Nation adored her, but she used the power she wielded to make the whole world a better place.

She was the one who came up with the idea of Republic City, a place where all nations could live in harmony.

She revolutionized the art of healing with her bloodbending.

She installed fountains and aqueducts everywhere she could, so people had clean water.

Statues were built and universities, streets even neighbourhoods were named in her honour.

Katara taught new generations of waterbenders like her daughter Kya and people formally fought over to learn from the Fire Lady.

When their oldest daughter Izumi became Fire Lady, Katara and Zuko retired to Ember Island to live out their twilight years in peace.

They often had visits from their friends and families.

Their son Lu Ten, a nonbender, had married a waterbender named Mizuki and had with her five children.

So the proud grandparents helped their son and daughter-in-law raise the rascals.

It was fulfilling.

As Aang then died and was reborn as Korra from the Southern Water Tribe Katara and Zuko moved to the South to teach the new Avatar.

Korra loved Katara and Zuko like grandparents and loved hearing about their adventures.

After Korra goes to Republic City to learn airbending from one of Aang's sons he had with one of the hiding airbenders, the pair returns to Ember Island.

Zuko died a few months before her.

Katara followed him after the birth of their third great-grandchild.

Both died surrounded by their big and bustling family.

As Katara died, her oldest great-granddaughter, who was named after her held her hand, she couldn't help but feel happy.

She had lived a long and wonderful life.

Soon she would be together again with her beloved husband and her family.

And so the greatest and most beloved Fire Lady died in peace with no regrets in her heart, her story being told for thousands of years to come.

***

The Legend of Katara became a tale which young girls loved.

From a simple waterbender to a master, war hero and ruler over a nation, who changed the world only a few ever could.

It showed all girls, that they could do anything they wanted.

They could reach their goals and go even beyond.

This was Katara's legacy.

As it should have been.

If you liked this one-shot and want more Zutara, a badass OC, personal growth for Aang and the Gaang being amazing check out Yin and Yang! 

Click on my profile and leave a comment.

I hope you liked this little One-Shot!

Let’s now scream together in the comment section how Katara deserved better and if it’s not canon we will give it to her in fanon! :D

#katara #atla katara #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #atla zuko #prince zuko #atla zutara #zutara #zutarian #katara deserved better #zuko x katara #katara x zuko #zutara fanfiction #zutara fic #zutara forever #anti bryke #anti kataang #anti maiko #bryke critical

[whump-mania]

Dialogue Lines: Whumpee/Whumper/Caretaker Variations

(TWs: torture, cursing, collars, implied murder, drugging, nightmares)

~~~

Whumpee

Classic Whumpee Lines

1. “Touch me and it’s fucking over for you.”

2. “Please, please, I-I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to mess up, please don’t hurt me!”

3. “What’s the point of trying? I’m never getting out of here.”

4. “I-It hurts…it h-hurts so bad…why won’t it g-go away…?”

5. “Keep me chained up here all you want. You’re never gonna hear shit from me, buddy.”

~

Whumpee turned Caretaker

1. “Hey, I know, I know how much it hurts. Just breathe. Think of something else. That’s what helped me.”

2. “They got you too? That bastard. I’m so sorry.”

3. “Yes, I do! I do fucking understand, because I lived it! Now let me help you!”

4. “I didn’t get someone to help me through this when I was there. I want to be that person for you.”

5. “You remind me of myself…back then. Before they broke me.”

~

Whumpee turned Whumper

1. “Payback, bitch.”

2. “No. You don’t get to complain. Don’t you remember the rules against speaking out?”

3. “This collar…oh yeah, you remember it, huh? You always liked it on the tightest setting, didn’t you? Let’s start with that.”

4. “Back then, before you, I always thought every person deserved mercy. But no. You’re not even a person.”

5. “Wait, you’re crying? Come on, Whumper, are you kidding?! It took you weeks to make me cry for the first time, and you’re giving up on the first day?”

~~~

Caretaker

Classic Caretaker Lines

1. “This is gonna hurt. It’ll be over soon.”

2. “You think a little nightmare’s gonna hurt you? Nah. I’m here now. I’ll fight it off.”

3. “Just let them down for a second—Let me at least give them some water, it’s been almost two days!”

4. “I don’t know how you were even able to go through something like that…you’re stronger than I’ll ever be.”

5. “Come on, get up. Fresh bandage time—no, I don’t have to clean them today. That’s tomorrow.”

~

Caretaker turned Whumpee

1. “How…h-how did Whumpee do this?”

2. “Anything. I’ll be anything you fucking want me to be—just let them go.”

3. “Sorry, friend, I’m not gonna break as easily as they did. Bummer.”

4. “Wait, y-you didn’t…you didn’t tell me you did this to them…no, k-keep that away from me!”

5. “Whumpee, when they hurt me, just look away. Please.”

~

Caretaker turned Whumper

1. “Who else could have slipped those drugs into your food? Come on now, think a little quicker than that, Whumpee.”

2. “It feels kinda wrong, but…when you’d have nightmares, I…I kinda liked to listen.”

3. “I’m sick of taking care of everyone all the damn time. Well, guess what? Now you have no one.”

4. “Yeah, I’ve got them where you want them. They think they’re safe, but they won’t know what hit them.”

5. “Crazy how I used to patch these scars up…now, I get to make more.”

~~~

Whumper

Classic Whumper Lines

1. “Good morning. Come on, get up. I have so much planned for you today.”

2. “You’re so cute when you try to fight back. It’s like you’re not even trying.”

3. “Aw, you had a nightmare? Was it about me? I hope it was about me.”

4. “Don’t try and be a fucking actor. You and I both know you’re terrified.”

5. “Found you.”

~

Whumper turned Whumpee

1. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what I did, just…p-please, have mercy…”

2. “That all you’ve got? I used to hit you three times as hard.”

3. “No. I’m not apologizing. No matter how much you torture me. I regret nothing.”

4. “H-Hey, come on, we can be friends, right? You know I didn’t really mean all those things…h-hey, wait, get away from me!”

5. “No…maybe I deserve this. Maybe this is what I’m getting in return for all the things I did to you.”

~

Whumper turned Caretaker

1. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s just me! …Oh.”

2. “The nightmare…it was about me, wasn’t it?”

3. “I know you can’t ever forgive me…but let me at least do this one thing for you.”

4. “Okay, okay, yes, I did make that scar, but I’m the only one who knows how to make it better, so would you stop moving?!”

5. “Fuck, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

#whump #whump blog #whump community #whump writing #whump scenario #dialogue lines #whump lines #whump dialogue #Whumper lines #caretaker lines #Whumpee lines #Whumper to caretaker #Whumper to Whumpee #caretaker to Whumper #caretaker to whumpee #Whumpee to Whumper #Whumpee to caretaker #tw torture #tw cursing #tw drugging #tw collar #tw implied murder #tw nightmares