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#but I’m tempted to write something for him before I finish it
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Thinking about Kaeya having such fine control over Cryo that the ice cubes in his drink don’t melt unless he’s distracted. You don’t notice, of course, because the ice in his drinks always melts as normal when you’re around.
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portgasdwrld · 10 months
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📂Op men + them being needy
Featuring: monster trio
Warning: Suggestive, NSFW, fem!reader, established relationship, english isn’t my first language
Important: Pls read my navigation before sending/commenting asks. I would love to do them, but some of y’all don’t spend two seconds trynna make sure ur ask is fine with me first 🫶🏻
Note: Y’all voted for that one and ngl i wanted to write this one, so we all share the same slutty mind. Also thank you for 100 followers 🫶🏻lm super glad that y’all are enjoying my writing💕 This took sm more time than I thought it would. Ima make a separate one for Ace whenever I have time 😭
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Luffy
Luffy was laying down on his bed as you were not too far from him trying out some make up in the mirror facing his bed. He had insisted to nap with you next to him, so he had his long arm stretched around your waist lazily as you were dolling yourself up.
You hear him stir awake from his sleep as he groans and yawns loudly.
-What time is it?
He drags in a sleepy tone as he rolls to the side still covered by the sheets.
-Mmm, you only slept for an hour. You can go back to sleep baby.
You answer him as you take a quick look at your watch. You knew how he loves to sleep after he ate and especially if there isn’t much to do.
-It’s hard when you aren’t laying down next to me, I like to hug you close to mee.
He whines a little. You see him rub his eyes and softly sit between his messy sheets through the reflection of your mirror.
-I’m sorry baby, I will come later when I’m done, okay ?
You say softly as you apply a new colour of your eyeshadow palette on your eyelid. He gets closer to you, now sitting not too far behind you. His pretty dark eyes shift between your products and your face.
- What’s this, it shines~
He asks curious while pointing at your highlighter. You chuckle and open it to swipe some on the tip of your finger. You thought it would be a fun time to mess a little with him, so you swap some on top of your boob to show him. You smirk and point at your breast, showing him that it make your skin shine, when applied.
-it’s to make your skin shine, you simplify it to him.
His eyes looks down and stare at your chest. His arms unwrap from your body and with his finger he touches your skin to see if it stains his finger too and it does a little.
-Waaaw, amazing! That’s so cool
You nod with a smile and a comfortable silence falls between you two. He watches you apply your eyeshadow using multiple techniques. He let his chin rest on your shoulder and his expression gets a bit serious. He stares at you through the mirror.
-Y/n ?
-Mmm?
-I’m hard, let’s fuck.
You choke a little at his sudden straightforwardness. You take few seconds to take in what he just said, before throwing a look behind your shoulder to stare at your suddenly needy boyfriend.
-Luffy… just how ?
You ask defeated. He has the habit to get hard so randomly, not that you complained because sex with him was always more than satisfying. Though, It was just somewhat inconvenient when you were already doing something.
-I can just jerk off while you finish off, he propose seeing your unsure expression. The way he said that was so laid back that it made you giggle a little. Doesn’t he know the effect he has on you??You smile fondly at him, but letting him do that would be more torture than anything else.
-Or you can cockwarm me while you finish off like we did last time.
The “last time” he was referring to, ended by you two fucking with your undone hair. You shake your head, you couldn’t say no to him. It was always tempting to have him inside of you.
He kisses the crook of your neck, dragging your name in a groan taunting you to give him an answer.
-I like the last idea more, you finally reply with a shy smile. You gaze at him through the mirror and you see him grin.
-Alright !
You stand up to throw away your panty on his bed as he stroke his dick few times before you sat on it. You both left a moan as the contact was made. You were never used at the deepness he could reach. Your legs weakly fixed your position on his laps.
-Is it okay ?
He asks making sure you were comfortable. You nod as you gaze back at him. He pecks your cheek, his brown hair slightly tickling you, before leaning his body back, now supported by his arms. The view you have is just so delicious, you are about to give up any plans your had on finishing your make up.
-Luffy, you are making this so hard for me I swear.
You let out shakily under your breath, because he clearly couldn’t stay completely still.
He laughs as he approaches his body to yours, his warm breath brushing on your neck, his eyes looks at you with excitement.
-Can I play with your boobs ?
-Luffy…
You whine almost pleading him to be kind to you and let you do your make up without so much distraction. No way you are going to hold back with him touching you like that.
-Pleaseee
-Ugh… fuck it.
I need to write a whole mirror fucking fic with him now🧎🏻‍♀️
Zoro
Zoro is going out of his mind. His usual cool and collected image is crumbling every time he breaths. His eye stare at your figure with a burning gaze. He wants you so badly right now, but it was lowkey hurting his ego to tell you directly how he felt (he’s in fact too shy, but he would never admit that to himself.)
You definitely noticed his behaviour during the day, when he let his hand rest a little too long on your ass when you hugged him or when he kept taking glances at your boobs peeking from the low cut of your shirt.
You didn’t want to give it to him so easily without him openly saying that he wanted you. It was no fun otherwise. So you teased him all day, acting all clueless to his advances. It was until he snapped and pulled you into his room late in the afternoon.
-You have been so fucking annoying all day. You really enjoy acting all dumb when you want to.
-I dont know what you are talking about?
You reply with an innocent stare as you unconsciously bite your lips quickly and look up to him. He groans as he climbs on top of you on the bed, his large and strong body towering you was already enough to make your head dizzy. He leans his face few inches in front of yours. Your nose filled up with the scent of his cologne.
-You want to keep playing this ?
- Admit it.
-Admit what ?
He gulps with furrowed eyebrows. You smirk and wrap your arms around his neck. You pull the green haired man closer teasing the proximity of your lips to his.
-Admit that you want me.
You whisper with the same smile glued to your lips. Zoro eye slightly widen but he presses his lips on yours without adding another word, but you are fast to push him away by pressing upward your hands on his chest.
-Come on, baby~ You can’t even admit something so little ?
You pout as you knew his competitive ass wouldn’t take it and he would eventually get frustrated, and maybe give up.
-I will treat you so well if you do, I just need to hear it~
You continue hoping it would cheer your shy boyfriend to speak the words. You know he’s not the best with expressing his emotions, but god it felt good to see him all tensed because he wanted to fuck you so badly. You travel your fingers up his neck, brushing fading hickeys you left on him few days ago.
You see him sigh as he straightens his upper body. You give him a confused look for a moment, but it disappears when his lips curve into his familiar smirk.
He let his body fall next to you and you feel his strong arm slide under your waist. He pulls you against him and with his other arms, he props your body on top of his. You sit not too far from his hips area. He places his hands on each side of your hips and he gives a light spank on your ass earning a small surprised moan from you.
-What are you doing? I thought I was clear babe.
You say while crossing your arms under your chest. He chuckles and push your hips on top of his bulge. You could feel he was starting to get hard.
-I want you, so be good now and ride me.
You smile happy to hear it finally from him, but he still found a way to make it an order, so it earned a small giggle from you.
-What’s funny?
-Nothing. I said I will treat you right, so let me take care of you.
You said while going down on him. You pulled down his pants to reveal his half hard dick. You took it in your hand and with your thumb you spread the precum all over his tip while giving it few strokes with your other hand. You give few licks to tease him a little, but you shortly after wrap your plump lips around his cock. He hiss as his fingers brush away the hair in front of your eyes that was blocking his view.
-Fuck, just like that
He groans as he places his hand on top of your head trying to make you take more of his length. You let him do as he wishes, as you wanted tonight to be focused on him. He pushes his cock until it was deep enough into your throat that it was painfully hitting the back of it. Tears were starting to form into your eyes as you look up at him. He leaves a low moan and let his head fall behind as he give a lazy thrust into your mouth. He let go of your head not trying to hurt you and you take that chance to remove it from your mouth and breath.
-Shit, you’re so big
You pant with a heavy breath as you stroke his dick up and down using your spit. He smirk at your compliment and you don’t let him reply as you dive his cock into your mouth once again, sucking harshly getting a loud groan out of his mouth.
You torture his dick like this for few minutes as you take him deeply into your throat and suck harshly on his dick by also teasing his slit with your tongue. He was a moaning mess and honestly it’s been a while since you saw him so vocal about the pleasure he was feeling, that it was soaking your panties.
You stroke him with both of your hands as your mouth was sucking his tip and with the help of few thrust, he came into your mouth. You swallowed everything with a funny face and flashed your tongue at him so he could see. You then removed your shorts and panties along with your top, leaving you naked on top of him.
-I should let you suck me off like this more often.
-Yeah, well if I didn’t have to beg all the time to have your cock, I would suck you even upside down.
You retort as you position yourself on top of his dick, ready to slide him in you. Zoro roll his eye at your comment, but he grabs your thighs tightly, anticipating the feeling of your pussy around his cock.
You chuckle seeing him waiting for you to put it inside of you, in silence. You lean and give him a peck on his forehead with a soft smile. Your boyfriends cheeks blushed as he gives you a bit of a “wtf” stare.
-So eager, are we baby?
Sanji
Sanji was smoking outside as his body was leaning against the railing of the ship. His fluffy blond hair brushed by the cold breeze of the early night. His gaze seems lost in a trail of thoughts that only him will know about. You smile to yourself when you finally find your boyfriend.
« It’s a cold night, but lucky me I have someone to cuddle to keep me warm » you say, startling him a little.
He smiles as he recognizes your voice immediately. Sanji doesn’t hide the way his eyes enjoy savouring the view of your body in this little black silk dress. It was his favourite. The dress is so short that he could just bend you over the rail and he would not only have a great view of your pussy, but he could also easily take you there.
Why was it so easy for you to drive him crazy ? Just you being such an effortlessly beautiful women was enough to make his thoughts foggy. It wasn’t too fair for his heart and his dick.
-You are going to catch a cold, my love. Come here.
He finally replies while opening his arms. You rush a little into his embrace, loving the way his body’s warmth and the mix of his cologne and the cigarette’s smog fill your nose and senses. He presses his body against yours and you let the back of your head rest on his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders after throwing his cigarette in the ocean.
-How did you find tonight’s dinner, chérie?
-It was delicious as always darling.
You whisper enjoying the tranquility on the boat for once. Sanji hums in response as he let his hairy chin slightly tickle your neck. His lips brush your ear as his warm breath tickles your neck.
-You know you make me a mad man when you wear this.
-Do I?
You answer with a chuckle honestly forgetting how your boyfriend had a particular liking in this night dress. He loves everything you wear anyways so for you it didn’t change much, but as he presses his dick on your lower back, you kinda get what he’s leading to.
You feel his lips move to your neck where he presses them, where he sucks and bites your skin, leaving proof of his love on it.
-I wouldn’t mind dessert at this hour
He mumbles as his arms find a rest now on your breast. He presses his hips closer to your body and you do him the grace of slightly grinding your ass against his bulge.
-What do you mean?
You ask him playing dumb. It was so fun to tease Sanji. He was always so enthusiastic whenever something concerned you.
-I want to fuck you, darling
He continues as his unwrap your body from his arms. His fingers slide down your waist to tease the hem of your short dress. He let them wonder beneath it, feeling the softness of your ass. A gasp left your mouth when his cold fingers press against your clothed core.
-I could just bend you over this rail and fuck you so good, hmm?
He pushes his digits under your panty and let his fingers get coated of your juices before letting them slide upward where he pinches your clit. A moan leaves your throat loudly and you quickly bite your lips to stop any more sounds to come out.
You two could honestly get caught at any moment that someone decides to exit their room, but the thought itself made you even more wet.
-S-sanji, we could get caught..
-I know, but I can’t help myself when you look this good. I want you so badly that I don’t care about the rest.
He retorts with a heavy sigh as he continues to play with clit. He then opt to dive one of his long fingers inside of you, catching you off guard. You try your best to keep any sounds in, but he was making it so hard for you when he was moving so fast.
-Fuck, Sanji. Please fuck me.
You whine as your body naturally leans on the rail. Sanji other hand pushes your lower back to create a curve that earn a groan from his mouth.
Your boyfriend closes the distance pushing now a second finger deeper inside of you. His pace is fast and precise, trying his best to listen to the way your body react to the spot he touches inside of you. Sanji does still keep an eye out in case someone catches you two though..
Hitting all the right spots and playing with your clits with his other hand, you feel your climax approaching. With a last thrust of his finger and some dirty word whispered, you cum all over his fingers, staining his black pants a little.
-You’re insane..
You let out as you try to catch your breath. He smirks and give you a back hug, leaving plenty of kisses on your necks and collarbone.
-let’s go back to our room, so you take care of me~
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 months
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I was thinking of reader being pregnant but not being aware yet but bucky can hear the heartbeat of his unborn child but what if the reader and Bucky weren't in an established relationship in fact the two don't really get a long at all but they hooked up once and Reader got pregnant. After a mission they end up in a safe house and Bucky realizes that he's hearing the heartbeat of their unborn child
Unexpected » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger/Pregnant!Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out Y/N is pregnant with his unborn baby when he hears the heartbeat.
Warnings: mix of Fluff and Angst, language, mentions of sex (18+), kissing, use of pet names
A/N: Thank you for requesting @annekelovesreading 🩵
A/N #2: @little-miss-dilf-lover wrote a similar one shot. Just know I’m not copying her in any way. Her and I just got the same request. She said I can write this and I thank her for allowing me to write this🩷
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this one on Pinterest.
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“I had him, Barnes!” You yelled, panting.
“No you didn’t. You could barely-” That’s when he heard it, the noise he’s been hearing all week.
“I could barely what, huh?” You asked.
“Nothing.” He clears his throat. “Let’s just finish this mission so we can go to the safe house.” He says, gently nudging you in the direction you two need to go.
Bucky thought he had been hearing things all week. He has been hearing a little thumping noise. He only hears it when he’s around you which is weird, considering that you two don’t get along. He’s been trying to figure out what the noise is and it’s driving him crazy. That was the only thing on his mind as you two finished the mission and went to the safe house. It didn’t take long for realization to hit him. The little thumping noise he has been hearing all week is a heartbeat of an unborn baby. Meaning, you’re pregnant with his child. Bucky remembered the one time you and him had sex. You two got drunk off of Asgardian alcohol Thor gave you and him at Tony’s party a few weeks ago, making his eyes widen.
“Oh my god.” Bucky says to himself.
Bucky ran his fingers through his hair as he paced back and forth in the bedroom. If you knew, you would’ve told him, right? You wouldn’t keep something this important from him, would you? Or maybe you don’t know it yet. Instead of jumping to conclusions, he laid down on the bed and tried to relax, but that got him nowhere. He just stared up at the ceiling. Bucky already knew that he wasn’t going to get any sleep that night so he just tried to relax. He turned the TV on for background noise to drown out his thoughts. He soon fell asleep. A few hours later, he woke up from his dreamless sleep. A sigh left his lips as he got out of bed to get something to drink. He stopped in his tracks, hearing the heartbeat of his unborn child coming from your bedroom. Bucky was tempted to go in your room to hear the heartbeat better, but he didn’t want to wake you. He went to the kitchen and got some water and went back to his room. Bucky laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling once again till he fell asleep. When morning came, he woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the sun shining through the curtains. Bucky rubbed his eyes to wake himself up more before getting out of bed. He went to the kitchen, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion when the smell of coffee didn’t instantly hit his nose.
“You didn’t make coffee?” Bucky asks, slightly annoyed.
“No.” You took a sip of your orange juice. “For some reason, it’s been making me nauseous for the past couple weeks.” You tell him.
Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat when you mentioned being nauseous.
“That’s weird.” He says, clearing his throat.
Bucky got a cup from the cabinet and poured himself some orange juice. He went to the living room and sat down next to you.
“Just out of curiosity…” Bucky took a sip of his orange juice before asking his question. “Does anything else make you nauseous?” He asks curiously.
“Now that I think about it, some of my favorite foods have been making me feel sick lately.” You answered. “Wait a minute. We don’t like each other. Why are you asking me this?” You asked, looking at him.
Bucky shrugged his shoulders and took another sip of his orange juice.
“Are you thinking I’m pregnant?” You asked.
“What? No. I’m not thinking that at all.” He says, lying through his teeth.
That’s when Bucky heard the little heartbeats again. He glanced down at your stomach, listening to the heartbeat of his unborn child.
“Either you have a staring problem or you know something I don’t.” You say.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, moving his eyes away from your stomach.
“You’re a terrible liar.” You tell him. “Tell me what’s going on before I interrogate you.” You say, turning your body to face him.
“Last time I checked, you’re not a detective or a cop.” He says, standing up and went to the kitchen.
“I was trained in that area, Barnes.” You followed him to the kitchen. “I’m going to ask you again, do you know something I don’t?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
Bucky gave in with a sigh and turned to face you.
“Heartbeats.” Is all he said.
“You mean our heartbeats?” You asked.
“Not ours. An unborn baby’s heartbeat.” He says.
“What do you mean an unborn baby’s heartbeat? I’m not-” You stopped to think for a moment. “I’m not pregnant. Am I?” You say, more to yourself.
You kept thinking. You haven’t gotten your period in two months and most of your favorite foods and drinks make you nauseous. Some of your clothes don’t fit you like they used to. Your mind started to wander to the time you and Bucky had sex. That was two months ago as well. You two got drunk on Asgardian alcohol Thor gave you guys and neither of you thought to use a condom when you guys had sex. As you were putting the pieces together, it was beginning to make sense.
“Maybe I am pregnant.” That’s when your eyes widen in realization. “Oh my god.” You whispered. “I’ve been taking a lot of hits during this mission. What if- What if I did something to hurt the baby?” You say, looking at Bucky with tears in your eyes.
“Hey, don’t go there.” Bucky cooes, wrapping his arms around you. “You didn’t know, doll. I’m sure the baby is fine.” He says softly, rubbing your back to calm you down.
Bucky stood in the kitchen, holding you in his arms till you said something.
“How can we raise a baby together if we don’t get along?” You asked, looking up at him.
“We’ll figure something out.” He says, moving a piece of your hair from your face.
“What about the mission? I obviously can’t finish this mission in the condition I’m in.” You say.
“We’ll call Steve later and figure something out. As of right now, let’s get you comfortable.” He says.
Bucky lead you to his bedroom. You got underneath the blanket while Bucky stared at your stomach for a moment.
“Can I listen to the heartbeat?” Bucky asks.
“Of course you can. It’s your baby too.” You say with a smile.
You took the blanket off of you and moved your t-shirt just above your stomach. Bucky’s eyes filled with adoration when he seen your baby bump beginning to form. He laid down on the bed next to you and pressed his ear against your stomach, smiling when he heard the baby’s heartbeat.
“What’s it like?” You asked curiously.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” Bucky says, completely astonished.
You couldn’t help but reach a hand down, running your fingers through his hair. Bucky hummed at the feeling.
“You know…” Bucky starts. “I’ve always wanted a daughter. That was in the 40s and I still want that now.” He tells you.
“Wanna know something?” You asked. “I’ve always wanted a daughter too.” You say with a smile.
A smile grew on his face. What Bucky did next surprised both of you. He leaned up and kissed you passionately.
“Sorry.” He mumbles, pulling away.
“No need to be sorry. I’m pregnant with your baby. You get to kiss me all you want.” You say, cupping his scruffy cheeks and rubbed your thumbs over his beard.
“Well, in that case…” Bucky kissed you again. “A kiss for my doll and…” He moves down to your stomach. “A kiss for our little one.” He says, kissing your stomach.
“You really think we can work this out?” You asked.
“For the sake of the baby, I hope we can.” He says, lying down next to you.
Bucky wrapped his arms around you protectively and pulled you closer to him, placing one of his hands on your stomach. You and Bucky spent the rest of the day cuddling and talking out your differences so you two can raise this baby together.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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silkscream · 5 months
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blessing
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ੈ✩ yuuta okkotsu x reader
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, soft dom!yuuta, dacryphilia, oral sex, overstimulation, delayed orgasms, he's a little mean, slight yandere vibes because. it's yuuta.
ੈ✩ wc: 1.1k
ੈ✩ a/n: i'm on my soft dom!yuuta agenda. i also can't write him without feeling fucking insane
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yuuta okkotsu is a gentleman. he holds the door open for you, gives you his jacket when you’re cold, has your ramen order memorized. everything about him is gossamer-soft, too. the cadence of his speech, the lithe way he moves, even though his lankiness has been replaced with lean muscle since you first met him.
yuuta okkotsu is gentle. just not when he fucks you.
it’s ironic, though, because his tone is still gentle. the rasp of his voice is low, quietly masculine, haunting, but still full of adoration. it’s alluring more than anything. he reminds you of the vampires you used to lust over from your childhood fantasy books. dark hair, dark eyes.
the essence of him is unfathomable to you — you can’t find the word for it, but it’s something akin to eve’s apple. how tempting he is, how much you’d let him ruin you, bruise the fruit of your flesh with his teeth.
he tells you to open your mouth. at the moment, he’s in between your legs, mouth slick with your cum, and he reaches to set his fingers onto your tongue. a small push and you choke on the taste of yourself.
it’s dirty. but when it’s yuuta, it purifies you. makes you his angel. you believe him like a god when he tells you as such.
“so sweet, don’t you think?” he murmurs. “my sweet girl. the best girl, yeah?”
“yes,” you cry.
he’s coaxed at least three orgasms from you in the past hour with his mouth and fingers alone. with bliss also comes pain, and the way he coos your name and calls you his good fucking girl feels like a divine reward in itself. he licks your tears, pride swelling in his chest.
“how about another for me, huh, baby?” he bites into the meat of your thigh as he circles your clit with his fingertip again, chuckling at the way you shake.
“i—i can’t."
“can’t?” yuuta raises a brow. he looks beautiful in between your legs. there’s something oddly terrifying about it despite how beautiful. “i know you can. i know you will.”
“yuuta, please—”
“you’ve done it before, haven’t you? usually take whatever i give you, every fucking time, right?”
“s’too much,” you sob.
he tuts. rounds his full lips into a taunting pout.
“want my cock, then, don’t you? poor girl, you should’ve just asked.”
(you couldn’t have. you know better.)
“please, please—”
you don’t even get to finish begging before he’s buried inside you. pushed to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix with bruising force. he wipes away your tears as if he isn’t the cause of them.
“too rough?”
“n-no.”
but it hurts. it hurts in the way it feels too good, too sensitive after the amount he’s made you cum. he hasn’t even been inside you for a full minute and you already feel the ache in your abdomen ready to burst into flames.
the sweet nothings he whispers into your temple are loving and affectionate, but the way he rolls his hips into you is mean. he has his hand snake up to squeeze your breast, nicking your nipple with the grit of his teeth just so he can hear you mewl like a wounded kitten. it’s one of his favorite sounds.
his palm settles on your neck after, gentle still despite his other hand nearly bruising the fat above your hip.
he knows you’re close from the way your eyes blank out, glazed over in bliss as he tightens his hand around your throat.
“close, baby, i’m—”
and then the bastard stops. chuckles against your jaw at the way you cry as he thrusts into you so agonizingly slow. unsteady. taunting.
“yuuta!”
“’m sorry baby, did you wanna cum? i just thought you wanted me to hold out for longer. it’s nice like this, see?”
“fuck, yuu—”
“that’s not very nice,” he grins. he ruts into you extra hard, just once.
“that’s not what i meant,” you whine.
“wanna cum? just ask.”
you know you can’t just ask. you know he means he wants you to beg.
“pleasemakemecum, please, please!”
“yeah, why should i?”
“’cause ‘m your girl,” you slur. he loves you like this. wet mouth all slack, cheeks flushed like a nymph in a baroque painting.
he pulls out, then, drawing out another moan from you, just to flip you over onto your stomach. your hair is bunched up into his fist while his teeth are on your shoulder. when you feel him again, your walls full of him, you feel even dizzier than before.
“yeah, my good fucking girl,” he groans against your skin. “so good. so sweet to me.”
yuuta has never been an apostle of hedonism. he’s always reserved himself, the parts of him that wanted, thinking that his love and devotion would only curse other people.
when you came along and loved him so irrevocably, he felt reborn. drunk on pleasure. being with you makes him realize that it’s okay to take. he deserves it, doesn’t he, after everything?
you have him on a leash and you don’t even know. it’s why he likes to play with you so cruelly like this — to have his cake and eat it, too. because the way he controls you in the oasis of your bedroom, the way he marks you up and swallows you down like honey — it’s what you want as much as him. and he’d rather die than not give you everything you want. even if he’s a little mean.
if he was a curse of a boy, you were his blessing.
“yuuta, i’m gonna cum,” you gasp. as you clutch the bedsheets, he covers your hand with his, engulfing it, entangling your fingers together. “cum with me, please—”
he wants to open his mouth to speak, anything to push you over the edge, but he’s as breathless as you are. consumed in your skin, in your cunt. he pulls your face toward his, instead, swallowing down your moans as he spills inside of you. you convulse, your orgasm like a lightning strike.
yuuta laughs softly against your mouth and soothes the bruised parts of you with his palms gently.
“you were so mean today,” you sigh.
“i’m sorry, baby,” he says, nuzzling your neck. “had a bad day, but i feel much better now. let me run you a bath, okay?”
you hum dreamily as your lover leaves you. the fuzz in your head satiates you. empty-minded except for him. and when he has you in warm water, hands washing your wet hair, yuuta feels blessed. baptized in tenderness.
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viennakarma · 5 months
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Happiness is a butterfly
Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.
Word count: 6.4k
Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read
Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.
Hope it's to your liking, Anon!
Find me on Twitter!
“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.
Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.
Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.
It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.
You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.
Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.
That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.
“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.
“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.
Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.
“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.
“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”
“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”
You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.
Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.
“You came to the party?” You asked.
“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”
“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.
You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.
“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”
“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”
He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.
When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.
“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.
“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 
“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.
“You know you are stunning.”
“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”
“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.
“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”
“I can’t.”
“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.
“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.
“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.
“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.
“Then don’t.”
That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.
“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.
Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.
“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.
You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.
Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.
“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.
He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.
“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.
He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.
“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”
“Just you and me?”
“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.
And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.
And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.
Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.
But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.
You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.
There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.
Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.
You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.
“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.
“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.
You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.
“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.
“Hm, I’m not sure.”
“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.
“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.
“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”
You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.
You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.
Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.
Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.
As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.
Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.
“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”
“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”
“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.
“Thank you”
He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.
You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.
“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.
“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.
“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.
He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.
And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.
“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.
“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”
You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.
“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”
With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 
When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.
“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.
He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.
You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.
“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”
You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.
“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”
“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”
“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”
That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.
“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”
“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.
“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.
“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.
There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.
“Please let us just talk about it-”
“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.
“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.
You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.
“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”
“I don’t want you.”
“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”
The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.
When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.
You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.
“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”
His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.
And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.
He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.
The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.
By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.
It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.
“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.
A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.
“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.
“No,” Somebody said, somberly.
“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.
When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.
Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.
“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”
“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”
“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.
The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.
“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”
“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.
You had to be fine.
“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”
He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.
On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.
But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.
By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.
Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.
“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.
“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”
“I will not leave.”
Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.
After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.
“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.
“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.
“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.
“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”
She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.
As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.
The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.
Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.
His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.
He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.
“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.
“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.
“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.
“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”
“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.
“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.
“I know.”
He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.
“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.
“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.
Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.
Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.
You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.
He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.
After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.
In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.
Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.
“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.
He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.
It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.
Only you didn’t.
You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.
“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”
“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”
“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.
“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”
“But-”
“I’ll pay for it.”
That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.
He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.
When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.
“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.
As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.
“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”
He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.
“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”
He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.
He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.
Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.
As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.
“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.
“She woke up!”
Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.
“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.
Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.
He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.
Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.
And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.
“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”
“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.
When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.
“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”
You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”
You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 4 months
Note
hi lovely! could you write something about reader taking care of james after he was injured while playing quidditch or rugby? (your choice!) thanks so much <3
ty for requesting<3
“Oh, fuck me,” James moans. 
You ease his leg gently onto the cushions you’ve stacked beneath his foot and ankle. “Sorry.” 
“Fuck.” He covers his face with his hand. “Fuck.” 
The expletives are expected, though perhaps not in such a quantity. You rub his calf gently, a warning, before putting the frozen bag of peas down onto his knee. He flinches, hisses, and brings his second hand up to join the first. Hidden from view, you might not know he was in pain if it weren’t for the tight set to his jaw —he holds his breath for a while.
He breathes out hard. You kneel at the foot of the sofa to hold the peas there, your hand instantly freezing and hurting. It can’t hurt half as much as what James is going through. You stick it out. 
“Sorry,” he breathes out a moment later, letting his hands fall to his chest. He’s still in his training uniform, a tight Spanx black shirt stretched over his chest and arms, his red and white shorts, even his socks, one pushed down and the other just below his uninjured knee. “Sorry, I’m not swearing at you.” 
“I know. I wouldn’t be so nice to you if you were speaking to me like that, Pots.” 
“Don’t start,” he says, but he’s smiling for the first time since he slid in the field. You raise your chin at him, smiling back, and he raises a heavy looking hand to your chin, chucking it lightly. 
“It’ll stop hurting once you keep still,” you say. You’re not sure if that’s true, but sometimes the only escape from pain is a lie. 
“My ibuprofen isn’t kicking in. You know, Sirius says it kicks in quicker if you lay on your right side.” 
“You probably shouldn’t move, handsome.” 
“You think I’m handsome?” 
You rise up on your knees to offer him a kiss, which he takes immediately. He whines against your lips in pain and pushes you away gently. “Don’t tempt me, angel, please. It hurts so bad,” he complains, eyes squeezing closed. 
“I’m so sorry.” 
“Yeah, you should be,” he says, giving your shoulder a friendly shove. “Away, angel in human form. Get lost before I hurt myself. You’re too much to resist.”
You decided to make him a cup of tea, but you’ve not even boiled the kettle when he’s shouting for you to come back. “I didn’t mean it!” 
You return with a tray of tea and biscuits and he perks up from his depression. “The ibuprofen must be working now,” he says. 
“I’ll get you some deep heat,” you say through a mouthful of biscuit. 
“Yeah?” he asks, dipping his own in his mug, the tray balanced precariously across his lap. “You’ll rub it in for me?” 
You’d genuinely love to. “Of course I will. Have some tea first and let the painkillers really sink in. I don’t want to make it worse by touching it.” 
James gives you his biscuit out of love. “Thank you. You’re like my beautiful doctor.” 
“Shush.” 
You finish his biscuit and put your tea aside to tuck yourself into his waist for moral support. “You played a great game,” you assure him, pressing your cheek to his shoulder. He lets his head fall down onto yours, silky hair brushing your ear. 
“Good, ‘cos it’ll be my last for a while.” 
“Don’t be silly,” you say, rubbing your palm down his stomach to hug him. 
“For a week. Maybe two.” 
“That’s fine. You can spend two weeks on the sofa with me kissing me and watching telly, and then you’ll have to work your socks off and train back up again,” you say easily. 
He relaxes with a sigh. “That doesn’t sound bad.” James turns his mouth into your hair. “…That sounds amazing.” 
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kentopedia · 11 months
Text
i miss when we first met
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FEATURING. dazai osamu x f!reader & f!reader x chuuya nakahara — wc: 15.1k
SUMMARY: you'd always been in love with Dazai, but you started to doubt that he'd ever cared for you in return. chuuya, though, had never shown you anything but true affection.
CONTENTS: nsfw 18+ ONLY, pm!dazai, pm!reader, mostly dazai x reader but…, unhealthy relationship dynamics, voyeurism, cheating, manipulation, smut, degradation, guns, angst, dazai is very bad at expressing emotions, pet names, horrible communication, unrequited (?) love, the list goes on bc they’re in the port mafia just be warned
note: this took me like 4 months to finish & i am so so nervous to post it lmao. i wanted to write something different & this is very outside my comfort zone! :) but it's dazai's birthday so i figured i might as well share it today
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You rolled onto your side away from Dazai, still breathing heavily as you came down from your high.
Beside you, he had shifted onto his forearms, moving up against the headboards to sit up straight. The covers fell off of him, revealing the marks that you’d left all over his body, the scars from a life lived in the mafia.
Under the red silk sheets, you were silent, your head settling into the pillow as you stared at him.
He’d deny it, but he was beautiful, a tempting, alluring creature that you couldn’t get enough of.
But you also knew Lucifer had once been God’s most beautiful angel, and it only made sense that Dazai Osamu would hold the same kind of exquisiteness.
Dazai closed his eyes, rolled his neck as he leaned back, stretching out all of the stiff muscles. He didn’t touch you again, kept a distance as he wiped the sweat that had dried on his forehead, the fluids that had stained the sheets between you.
He used to talk to you, after something so intimate. Used to hold you in his arms and trace your skin with a gentleness you didn’t know he possessed. He hadn’t always been cruel when he fucked you, hadn’t always put his own needs before yours.
Of course, Dazai had never loved you. That was something you were certain of in your very core. But he’d held at least some shred of respect for you before becoming the head of the Port Mafia. Now, you didn’t think he saw you as anything more than a means to an end.
It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter that Dazai spoke to you minimally when you two weren’t alone, that everyone in the Port Mafia knew you were nothing more than the woman who slept in his bed.
It didn’t matter because you loved him. You’d stood by his side since the beginning, since he’d recruited Chuuya, since he’d lost Oda.
Since he’d killed Mori.
You’d been with him through all of it, seen every horrid side to him, and you’d never once wanted to escape. Dazai had his claws in you, and he had them in deep. The thought of being anywhere but with him had never crossed your mind.
“Akutagawa told me what happened yesterday.”
You blinked, snapping out of your haze as Dazai regarded you with cool, condescending eyes. He was peering at you from over his shoulder, picking his dark button-up off the floor. The skin on his back was red from scratches, the lines dragging through his taut skin.
“Did he?” you said, looking down at your nails. You hadn’t expected anything less. Akutagawa did everything in his power to get exaltation from Dazai. “I’m sure his report was thorough.”
Dazai’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed, a darkened tint flashing in them. “That’s all you have to say?”
His voice was unamused, icy, and it reminded you that no matter how many times you crawled into his bed, let him use you however he wanted, he was still your boss. He was Dazai Osamu, the man whom everyone in Yokohama feared.
You swallowed. “I’m sorry.” Your gaze twisted away from him, unable to meet his hardened expression completely. “I was distracted. It was my fault entirely.”
Dazai made a noise in the back of his throat as he moved out of the bed. He sauntered across the room, so quietly and cat-like, and you buried yourself deeper into the mattress, wanting to sink into it completely.
“You’re lucky, then, that Akutagawa was able to deflect the bullets.” He began replacing the bandages that had slipped off of his face, covering his cheek with disgust.
He let you see him completely when it was just the two of you. It took every ounce of your self-control not to read into that, to wonder if it was just a habit leftover from when you were younger.
“I am lucky.”
Truthfully, you’d only hesitated for half of a second, momentarily lost in your own loop of suffering, and your opponent had gotten an edge on you. They’d shot at you, then the bomb, nearly prematurely blowing up the building.
“After decades of work, I would’ve thought you’d know better by now.” Dazai sighed wearily, like your presence irritated him. It probably did. “I’ll consider moving you. I’m sure there’s a place for you where you can’t get yourself killed if you fuck up.”
“Dazai—” you swallowed, a horrid tasting stinging your mouth as you remembered your time with him had come to an end. He was back to being Mori’s underling, the man who looked at the city like it was nothing but a chessboard. “Boss,” you remedied quickly, all too used to addressing him differently. It was difficult, sometimes, to recognize where Dazai began, and the Port Mafia’s boss ended. “It was a stupid error. In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever done something like that before?”
Dazai hesitated momentarily, before tensing his shoulders. He didn’t answer your question. “Don’t let it happen again.” A warning was in his eyes when they met yours through the mirror. “I don’t have the patience to find a replacement for you, and Akutagawa’s too valuable an asset to lose to a seasoned professional’s careless mistake.”
You exhaled, looking back down at your hands. The ones that had already been stained in so much blood, wrought with crime and bad intent. “Understood.”
You finally climbed out of the bed, missing the warmth that it gave you, even though Dazai’s cold body always sucked it away. He laid so stiffly next to you most of the time. You remembered when he used to sleep with his forehead pressed to the back of your neck.
As you dressed, Dazai kept his eyes on his work, never paying you any attention. You felt discarded, useless, and you wanted to hate him, wanted to hate yourself for longing to wrap your arms around him, hug him from behind.
“I’ll send you with Chuuya tomorrow,” he said, scanning reports and assignments that he’d thrown aside lazily last night. “An easy assignment outside of Yokohama. Think you can manage that?”
“Just give me the job.” You snatched the paper out of Dazai’s hand, and he didn’t say a word, only watched as you perused it. It was, really, the simplest task he’d given you in the past few weeks. You’d felt like he’d been overworking you just to avoid you. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
Dazai’s smile widened, sinister, and wicked. He brushed his hand delicately over your shoulder, against your neck before patting you on the head. “I trust you won’t let me down.”
Going against every sensible atom in your being, you smiled wearily. His minimal display of affection warmed you, a deep pang settling in your soul. “Have I ever?”
“No.” He held a sort of awed fascination, twisting a part of your hair between his fingers. “How lucky someone must be to be my greatest enemy. To get the kiss of death from an angel is not such a bad way to die.”
He held your cheek in his delicate fingers, and you were putty in his hands, wishing that his eyes would soften, even by a fraction. That his hand would cup around his cheek like he meant it.
Instead, he pulled away, and you felt cold, cold, cold, drowning in your own emptiness.
You scoffed, trying to regain some power in the situation. “I’m no angel.”
“Hm,” Dazai hummed, dropping his head in his hands, resuming a spot behind the desk, the deep red chair much too similar to the one in his office, the one that Mori had inherited from the previous boss. “Perhaps not to others.”
And you grew hot, feeling that, maybe, Dazai was giving you a compliment.
It was at times like these that you saw the semblance of your previous relationship. When you could tease him without feeling the weight of his superior rank looming over you. When you could kiss him without tasting venom. When you didn’t have to wonder if it would be appropriate to touch him, or if you should keep your distance.
You wanted to quit him. Really, you did.
He was a horrible, loathsome person.
You’d never be able to stop loving him.
“I could never be any sort of heavenly creature, Dazai. My spot in hell was sealed the moment I sided with the Devil.”
Dazai laughed, the sound raw and dry, so humorless. “I hope you don’t mean me. Flattery will get you nowhere,” he tsked, the tip of his tongue scratching against the back of his white teeth.  
You certainly hadn’t meant that as a compliment.
“Should I say goodbye before I leave?” you asked wryly, doubting that he’d even want to see you again. His image burned against the back of your eyelids, and you drank him in, hoping that when you died, his face would be the last thing you saw.
Dazai didn’t grace you with a simple yes or no. Instead, he glanced up briefly, his one eye exposed, mere centimeters of skin uncovered. “Goodbye.”
You nodded; lips pressed tightly together as you accepted the dismissal. With a sigh, you were out of the room, wondering why you hadn’t just showered before you left. Most of your clothes were in Dazai’s closet anyway.
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You didn’t see him again before you left.
The assignment Dazai had given you was a few cities over, a task of infiltrating an enemy organization who’d gotten a little too close to the Mafia’s boundaries. It was simple enough, especially with Chuuya at your side, though the whole ordeal had you away from home for a weekend, and far too much time with your own thoughts.
Dazai had set the two of you up in a suite, one with two separate bedrooms and a shared living space. It was much more luxurious than you even needed, with a view overlooking the entire city and an extensive bar in the kitchen. The furniture was a deep, black leather, every accent dark in color.
It was conspicuous, but you’d grown too used to extravagance after being with Dazai. You allowed yourself to indulge in it.
A silly notion, really; the place you slept every night was much more lavish.
You scrubbed the blood off your face, your hands, and stared at yourself in the mirror without recognizing the person before you. The water at the bottom of the shower was a macabre shade, staining the tiles as it swirled down the drain.
Shivering, you tried to reconcile all of the things you’d done, shelve them away before you could wonder if all of it was really worth it. If Dazai was really worth it.
When you finally emerged from the bathroom, your skin rubbed raw, Chuuya was sitting at the bar, a freshly cracked bottle of wine before him. His back was tense, muscles strained as he regarded you with weary eyes, the darker shade under them obvious and alarming.
“Took you long enough,” Chuuya snorted, pouring himself a glass. The bottle was aged and dark, the label faded. He must have brought it along with him; it certainly hadn’t come from the hotel. “I was getting bored.”
You made a face, taking the seat beside him. “Well, there was a lot of blood.” You reached over to snatch the bottle, pressing it to your lips before he could protest.
“Help yourself, then,” His expression was sour, but his acerbic tone held a hint of amusement. “Do you know how expensive that is?”
“No.” You shrugged, taking a sip. Money had stopped meaning anything to you a long time ago. “Should I care?” The liquid warmed your throat on the way down.
“Probably not. You’ve surely got enough cash behind you to buy me another one.”
“Right.” You snorted and wondered how much of that stuff you’d have to drink before you’d stop feeling a thing. Thoughts of the crumbling bond that you and Dazai shared wouldn’t leave you alone. “And you don’t?”
Chuuya laughed, twirling the glass in his gloved hand. There was a hardened edge to him that you didn’t like. Opposed to Dazai, Chuuya had always been much more open with you, more willing to share his thoughts. “Well, we can’t all be Dazai’s favorite. You’ve got the keys to the kingdom, my dear. Whatever belongs to the Mafia belongs to you too.”
“Favorite?” You spat out the word, darkening at the mention of Dazai, the man who never seemed to leave your brain. It was always Dazai, Dazai, Dazai. The youngest executive there had ever been, the one who’d become the head of the Port Mafia just a few years later.
You hated him. Wished you could burn the memory of that haunted man entirely.
“Hm?” Chuuya leaned forward like he hadn’t heard you.
A bitter flavor blossomed on your tongue when you thought of saying his name out loud. “I don’t want to talk about Dazai right now.”
You brought the bottle to your lips again; it was starting to feel lighter.
“Why?” Chuuya’s eyes dimmed as he stared at you, looking for something hidden in your irises. A secret that wouldn’t be there. You’d always been too easy to read. “Did something happen?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about Dazai, and you immediately think something’s wrong?”
He blinked. Hesitated. “Well, I spent my teenage years listening to you talk about him like a lovesick fool. The subsequent years watching him stare at you in the same way.” He took the bottle away from you, tipping his head back. “Something must be wrong.”
You felt a flush at your neck, the skin itching with sweat. It was cruel of Chuuya to allude to any emotions from Dazai, when you knew they weren’t there. “That’s not true.”
Chuuya sighed. “Isn’t it?”
Although his temper had always been much worse than yours, you felt the same sort of anger claw at your back. The urge to scream at him became almost insuppressible. “Dazai doesn’t care about me like that.” You flopped down on the bar, alcohol fuzzing the edges of your senses. It felt nice, warm.
Maybe being away from the Port Mafia was better for you than you thought.
“Don’t be stupid.” Chuuya’s eyes had narrowed when your head fell forward, his fist clenching around the bottle.
“Stupid?” You immediately sat up, blood rushing straight to your head. Who was Chuuya to come and tell you everything he thought he knew? It was laughable, really. “He doesn’t care, and I think I’d know. Fuck you, Chuuya.”
You slammed your fist down on the table, hurt. You didn’t understand why Chuuya would side with Dazai when he knew how much the situation troubled you. How often had you bared your soul to him, told him how Dazai’s aloofness had hurt you over and over again?
His eyes softened, an apology immediately leaving his lips. “I’m sorry—”
“Are you?” The words were vehement. Chuuya was shamelessly against your relationship with Dazai, always coming up with one reason or another to get you out of it. Now, it seemed, he was trying to defend it. “Dazai cares or he doesn’t. You can’t keep changing your mind based on the situation.”
“Dazai does care.” Chuuya said the words like they pained him to leave his mouth, each one dragging a dagger against his chin. “You think he’d keep you around if he didn’t?”
You did. You knew that you had use outside of Dazai’s feelings, just like Chuuya, just like Akutagawa. Just like every menial grunt who had a shred of value for the Mafia.
“He cares that I have value to him.” A sigh left your lips, and you sunk your chin onto your palm, feeling like nothing more than the dramatic woman in a Shakesperian tragedy. Really, you couldn’t remember when you’d become so pathetic. “What will become of me when I can’t sink a bullet into the skull of his enemies anymore?”
Chuuya frowned, the wrinkles deepening on his forehead. “No one can predict what Dazai will do.” He let you steal his half-full glass of wine, keeping the bottle safely tucked away from you. “Would it make much difference to you if we could?”
“I suppose not.” You’d grown tired, the subtle buzz of alcohol coming in quick on your empty stomach. “Nothing matters much anymore. I’ll never leave the Port Mafia.” Saying the words out loud made it more real than you’d intended, even though it was a fact that had sunk deep into your bones the day you’d met the dark-haired, suicidal bastard. “Why do I have to love him, Chuuya? Why can’t I love a good man?”
You thought, why can’t I love you instead, and left it unsaid. The words might have been too cruel. You knew the pain of unrequited emotions.
“Because you’re in the Port Mafia. Good men would know to stay away.” Chuuya drummed his fingers against the countertop before reaching out, contemplative. Though you remained unmoving in your seat, his hand still retracted before he touched you, as if burned. There was caution in his movements, every action calculated—Chuuya was usually the opposite, as intelligent as he was. “Besides. You’ve never tried to let Dazai go. You don’t want to.”
“I want to,” you said defensively, though even to your own ears, the statement was weak. Dazai was an addiction, and you’d go back to him time and time again. Even when, sometimes, you weren’t so sure there was anything good about him. “I just don’t know how. What would I do out there in the world without Dazai?” You laughed, amused. A normal life didn’t seem possible—you’d have no idea where to start.
Chuuya’s face pinched in disgust. “Take over the Port Mafia. Kill him and run it yourself.” He huffed, running a hand over his eyes, exhausted. “There’s a solution. If you really want to get rid of him.”
You blinked back at him. A moment passed; you’d forgotten he was looking for a response.
“I suspected as much.” His shoulders slumped, defeated, as you drew back in shame. “How long will you talk yourself into this endless cycle of torment? Dazai isn’t the same man that you fell in love with, and he never will be again.” He met your eyes, cold and guarded. “There’s nothing to be done about that. If you want Dazai so badly, put up with every single part of him. I’m tired of listening to the same grievances, time and time again.” 
Chuuya made to stand, but you stopped him, grabbing his wrist lightly. He glared at you from over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to convey your apology sincerely. “You’re completely right. I’ve never tried to let Dazai go, and maybe I can.”
You didn’t give Chuuya time to formulate a response. Before he could understand what was happening, you leaned forward, catching him off guard, and planted your lips on his.
For one singular moment, Chuuya had kissed you back, tasting your mouth in its entirety, before he shoved you away, scrubbing his skin like he’d been burned.
“Don’t do that.” He had a hand in your face, scolding you like a child. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”
You stared at him; his dark eyes were full of an emotion you had never seen before. “Why not? You said I should try to let him go.”
“Not by kissing me, fucking hell.” Chuuya hissed, his voice just above a whisper like someone else was listening in. Something vile had been unleashed in him as he gesticulated around wildly. “You’re Dazai’s.” He scoffed. “Do you think any smart man would do anything with you, knowing you sleep in that monster’s bed every night?”
You sniffed, sticking your jaw out. Maybe, you’d been wrong all this time. Chuuya was like everyone else, wasn’t he? Holding you at a distance because you cared for the wrong person.
“I’m not leaving the Mafia. I’m not leaving Dazai.” You reached across the table, grabbing one of his cold hands. “I just want to be someone else for once. To know what it’s like for someone to care about me so completely.”
“It’s not going to be with me.” Chuuya yanked his hand away, laughing mirthlessly. “I never thought you’d try to manipulate me like this. “You’ve been spending too much time with him.”
Your eyes flashed, infuriated. Chuuya looked at you with some kind of betrayal, like he wasn’t the exact same way, like he wasn’t the same kind of vile person that you were. “I know you’re in love with me, Chuuya. I know you’ve looked at me since we were sixteen years old, wished so badly I would look at you the same way.”
His jaw clenched, the anger giving way to something else. “Don’t start.”
“You’ve wanted me all this time, haven’t you?” It was a genuine question; one you’d always been too scared to voice. Chuuya was the only person you considered to be a friend and knowing that he felt that way about you would ruin your friendship completely.
Though you had one sip too much of alcohol running through your veins, and you’d spent two days wondering how you could stop feeling a single thing for Dazai. Rationality had left you entirely.
Chuuya was silent, still watching you with hesitance.
“You’re the only person in the Mafia who really cares about me, aren’t you?” you said, softer, wondering if you could lure him in. Spring him into a trap you’d both be certain to regret in the morning. “You’re the one who talks to me about everything, who watches out for my well-being. Who’s never looked at me like I was anything but the prettiest girl in the world.”
And though Chuuya still didn’t trust your actions, his eyes had softened just a hair, his body releasing the tension. “You are.”
You smiled, but his compliment made you feel nothing but guilt. “Then why won’t you let me kiss you, Chuuya?”
“Because.” He scraped a hand over his face, breathing heavily like it was taking every ounce of his willpower to resist you “Dazai will kill me, you understand? He’ll kill you.”
“Wouldn’t you at least like to know?” You invaded his personal space. Each word you spoke cracked him a little bit more. “I know you’ve imagined me spread out before you, entirely exposed to you. How I’d look with my hips arching off the bed, crying out your name—”
“Stop it.”
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You felt like you were losing your mind. Something had cracked in you, and you couldn’t come back from it. Things would never go back to the way they were after those careless words had been tossed into the world. “You’ve always wanted me, so why, when I’m giving myself to you completely, won’t you accept?”
Chuuya swallowed. His voice had grown thick with desire. He raked his eyes over you cautiously. “You’re asking a lot from me, baby.” He held your cheek, grazing the bone in the gentle way that Dazai had forgotten. “Believe me, I want to. But you’ve had a lot to drink.”
“I haven’t,” you said, grabbing his wrist before he could pull away. The touch of another person felt so nice against your icy skin. “I’m okay. I’m not drunk.” You weren’t—the alcohol had just made you brave enough to ask. “Please, Chuuya.”
He swallowed thickly. “He’ll kill me.”
“And he’ll kill me. Just as you said.” You met his eyes completely, wondering why you couldn’t care for this man in the same way, why his lips weren’t as alluring as Dazai’s, why his voice didn’t set a blaze deep in your stomach. “Do you really care whether Dazai thinks of me as his?”
His cheeks were flushed, eyebrows pinched, and you spotted the moment he began to draw back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just can’t.”
Then, you panicked, eyes becoming glassy as he released you, turning to retreat back to his bedroom, and you scrambled for another way, a way to bring him back to you.
“Chuuya, please,” you said, desperation in every syllable, and when he turned around, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. “I just want to know what it’s like with a person who loves me. Can’t you give me that?”
That was it. That was all you had to say. When Chuuya bowed his head, you knew he’d given in.
“Why do you think I can give you what he can’t?” Chuuya’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I’m not that kind of man. I’m not the kind of man you’re looking for.”
“No,” you said. “You’re not that kind of man. You’re Chuuya. The only person that’s always been there for me.”
He hesitated, momentarily, before sweeping you into his arms, his touch the softest you’d ever felt. “Are you certain that you want this?”
“Yes.”
“Then it doesn’t matter if Dazai kills me.” Chuuya spoke into your mouth, carving the words into your aching heart. “You were always going to be the death of me, anyway.”
His lips were upon you again, kissing you with the hunger of a starved man, and you gave him back as much as you could, which was the despair of a lonely woman. His touch was one of loving hands as guided you back into the bedroom tenderly.
When your back hit the bed, he asked if you were okay, asked if everything was comfortable. The concern in his eyes had rarely been seen in Dazai’s own—you couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken care of you first.
“I’m fine, Chuuya,” you promised again and again, and you smiled, caressing the soft skin of his jaw.
His lips pulled back in return, and then your shirt was thrown over your head, carelessly tossed towards the corner of the room. Though, no matter how many articles of clothing you lost, the necklace that Dazai had given you still rested against your collarbone.
You cupped your palm around it, trying to avert Chuuya’s gaze as he stared down at the precious metal, something conflicting in his cool irises.
“It’s okay,” you said, doing your best to distract him. You wouldn’t take the necklace off. It didn’t matter how much Dazai had hurt you; you needed the reminder of the absolute infidelity you were committing. “Keep going.”
Feeling more anxious than you had before, you kissed Chuuya, trying to dispel the bile that gathered in the back of your throat.
“You’re so beautiful,” Chuuya said, kissing every inch of your face, his hands hovering over your chest. “I could look at you forever, and it wouldn’t be long enough.”
Chuuya’s sentiments warmed you, but words weren’t enough. You pulled his vest off, then the buttoned-shirt and every other intricate article of clothing he wore.
It felt wrong. His height was wrong. His skin felt too warm under your palm.
“When did you fall in love with me?” you asked, breathing heavily. Desire pooled in your abdomen against your will, your own heart betraying you. Still, it was nothing more than the most basic reaction of human nature, raw and primal, unaffected by the organ that was jailed within your ribcage.
Chuuya was surprised by the question, and he paused, his face just inches above your stomach. “I think I realized when I was seventeen.” He huffed out a laugh, inhaling your perfume. “It was the first time I saw Dazai kiss you. I thought I was going to be sick.” He continued kissing down your body, sliding your pants past your hips. “I’d always wanted you. I guess I just didn’t realize until then.”
You exhaled, feeling tears spring to the corners of your eyes, ones you suppressed.
Dazai had given you flowers that day. You remembered how they smelled, the rainy spring breeze. The way the sun reflected in his brown irises, melting them into candied honey that brightened his entire complexion.
“Then take me, Chuuya. If you’ve wanted me for so long, then fuck me like you mean it.”
His dark eyes flashed, but his gentle caresses never turned rough, never sped through a single moment you had together. You smiled, your expression peaceful and open when he finally slid your panties off, your cunt throbbing as his finger brushed against your swollen clit.
Chuuya took his time with you, singing praises that you hadn’t heard in a long time, and you came once around his slender fingers, the ones that were much less skilled at knowing every place you enjoyed being touched.
When he finally sunk inside you, you still felt empty, unfulfilled. You tried to lose yourself in his mouth, in the taste of wine and Chuuya, and dug your fingers into his back.
“Feel so good around me, baby.” Chuuya whispered into your skin, imprinting the words into your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks, though he wanted to, wanted to claim you as his own. “Taking me so well.”
You tugged on his hair as he kissed down your collarbone, between your breasts, his breath hot and heavy. Though you cried out, you kept your voice quiet, still fearful that someone might hear, might know exactly what kind of betrayal you’d committed.
Chuuya thrust into you slowly, so much gentler than Dazai, hitting the spot deep inside of you that had you arching off the bed. “Fuck,” he said, choking on his own breath. “You have no idea how you make me feel.” He was full of desperation, his hands digging into your hips.
“Chuuya,” you said, holding his head between your palms.
He gave you the brightest smile in return, sad and meaningful. “I know. I can feel you squeezing me tighter. Let go for me, doll.”
His hair was just as soft, but it wasn’t dark enough, wasn’t short enough. His kiss didn’t feel the same, and you felt tears blurring your vision as you realized you’d never wanted him, you only wanted Dazai, and this was all wrong.
Still, you came around him, as he was buried deep inside you, but his name never left your lips, not even as a breathy whisper, because the one that was sitting there was Osamu.
And when he pulled out of you, you stroked him with practiced laziness, moving your hands in the way you knew Dazai liked, even though Chuuya felt so much different in your palm.
Chuuya kissed you as warmth flooded into your hand, and then he was breathing heavily, collapsing onto the bed next to you. He kissed you over and over, holding you tight, and you smiled, satisfied, because at the least, you knew this was what love felt like.
You’d never get it from the man you wanted, so you’d take it from Chuuya, even if it made you feel rotten inside.
The room smelled like sex and betrayal, and Chuuya took care of you, carried you out of the bed for a bath, and gently rinsed away the sweat and grime.
You were silent for most of the time, only reassuring him when he asked if you were alright.
For the first time, maybe you were. You imagined a future where you could learn to love Chuuya, a future where you were finally able to rid yourself of Dazai and start over again.
But it was nothing more than a delusion, a dream that would never happen. Dazai was a part of your soul. You knew that and Chuuya knew that, even as he closed his eyes next to you, the woman that would never give her love to anyone else. Your heart beat and bled for Dazai Osamu, every inch of your being meant for him. It would kill you to let him go, and if he died, you’d die right alongside him.
You turned away from Chuuya, burying your face in your hands, completely unaware that he’d left the bed to sleep in the other room.
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You didn’t talk to Chuuya the next morning, not when you took a private car back to Yokohama, not when you stepped foot back onto the Mafia headquarters. Things between you had soured, just as you’d suspected, and you didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t think there was any way to go back from what had happened.
Higuchi was waiting for the two of you when you walked in the door, her blazer perfectly pressed, and her shirt tucked. She greeted you with a half-smile—gesturing towards the stairs. “The boss wants to see all of us for a meeting. He said you two would be arriving at this time.”
You nodded, and Chuuya scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll never understand his superhuman ability to know what’s happening all of the time.”
Swallowing, you followed Higuchi, trying not to hear the foreboding nature of Chuuya’s statement.
Most high-ranking Mafia members were in attendance, with Dazai at the head of the table, the dark wooden chair beside him eerily empty and welcoming. You took a seat, and Dazai’s eyes ran over you, smoothly and hastily, before a small smile appeared on his features. “No injuries?” he said, and though his tone was professional, you could hear the slightest bit of concern.
“None,” you said, and something in your voice cracked, ever so slightly.
You were such a fool. You’d never be able to hide something like this from Dazai.
He eyed you suspiciously, before sliding his glance over to Chuuya, who was as cool as usual. His face was shadowed by his hat, hiding any evidence of a sleepless night.
“Chuuya,” Dazai said, tucking his palm into his hand. “Debrief.”
Your partner gave Dazai every last detail, summarizing as best he could, and sliding in the occasional sarcastic remark as he leaned back casually in the chair. Dazai listened with boredom in his expression, drumming his fingers against the table until Chuuya’s monologue was complete.
He turned to Akutagawa, who bowed his head an immediately launched into his own assignment.
You blinked—you hadn’t realized that Akutagawa’s squad had been sent elsewhere. It made no sense for Dazai to send you with Chuuya when your own division had a separate mission.
The meeting wrapped up quickly, and the members scattered, going their own separate ways for the afternoon. Chuuya refused to meet your eye as he got up from the table, one of the last to leave the room.
As you stood, Dazai closed a hand around your wrist, his thumb brushing your pulse.
“Was the hotel alright?” he asked, his head titled curiously. “You look tired.”
You took a sharp breath.
Fuck.
“It was fine, Osamu,” you said, and when his name slipped easily from your tongue, something in him changed. He loosened the hand on your wrist before releasing it entirely, the bandaged palm falling into his lap. “Thank you.”
Dazai nodded, turning away from you, and you’d forgotten that there were still other people in the room. Akutagawa, who lingered with morbid curiosity, and his sister, who had always sort of pitied you for your tumultuous relationship, bore witness to the brief interaction.
Behind them, Chuuya stood tense, his back straight as he crossed the threshold, sparing you only a glimpse before exiting into the darkened hallway.  
“Alright,” Dazai said in a hushed voice, his face schooled back into the usual, guarded expression. “I’ll see you later.”
It wasn’t much of a response, and he didn’t elaborate, keeping his steely eyes ahead as some low-ranking members trudged in for a meeting with their boss. He’d be busy all afternoon, it seemed.
You swallowed, and left, knowing that it was fruitless to try and keep a secret from him.
Chuuya waited for you outside, his arms crossed as he regarded you with a contempt that hadn’t been there before, such a contrast to the loving man you had seen last night. “This changes everything, you know?”
“I know,” you said, your voice thick with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Chuuya.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he scoffed. “I was the fool. I made my choice.” Chuuya sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I meant what I said, though. Yesterday. It was all true, and if you need anything, I’ll be here.”
You felt a chasm open in your chest, and you wished the floor would’ve swallowed you whole. You were losing everyone, it seemed, and maybe, Dazai really did have a point with his talk about suicide.
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When you stepped into the bedroom, Dazai was sitting on the edge of the bed, the setting sun casting a shadow of his own reflection. He was twirling a pistol around his pointed finger, staring at the wall with blank eyes.
You shut the door quietly, your hands shaking against the golden knob.
Though you hadn’t made a sound when you walked through the door, Dazai’s gaze was on you immediately, sensing your entrance.
You’d never been able to slip past him.
“You’re back early.” Those were the first words that came to your mind, your voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. He was regarding you with disdain, his jaw set coolly. His hair turned bronze in the evening rays, loose strands scraping against the bandages.
“I am.” His jaw clenched, examining you with a singular, dark eye. You felt exposed under his gaze, laid bare for him to see no matter how much you shrouded yourself with. “You sound like you’re unhappy to see me.”
Dazai ran his finger along the trigger like he’d never held such a weapon before, the gun becoming an object of morbid fascination. 
You exhaled. There was so much space between you, a distance you weren’t sure you’d ever cross again. Though you thought you knew Dazai better than anyone, in that moment, he was unreadable—a chapter of pages that had been torn out.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, standing tall. Despite your nerves, you were fixated on Dazai, always drawn to him like a moth to a flame, desperate to uncover the very thing that could kill you. “I miss you every time we’re apart. You’re no stranger to my feelings.”
You could offer him that, at the very least. An undeniable truth before everything between you shattered.
Dazai stood, his dark coat billowing out behind him as he finally came to face you, suddenly seeming much taller than you remembered. And with one look, you knew that he knew. He’d always been too smart for his own good.
“I’m not certain of that any longer,” he laughed, though it was a bitter sound that clawed its way up his throat. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, instead.” Dazai stood before you with a smile that was so sweet it was almost sinister. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you did?”
You weren’t sure which one of you would blink first, caught in some deadly staring contest. Most people would’ve surrendered to him by now.
 “Why?” you jutted your chin out, refusing to give in to him in any way. If you were going to die, and you were, you would make sure Dazai knew everything you’d never told him. “You already know.”
“No.” He poked the gun into your cheek, right beneath the sharp bone. He’d clicked the safety off moments before. “I want to hear you say it. You betrayed me.”
When you refused to say a word, Dazai hissed and cocked the gun. He pressed it to your temple, the metal cold against your delicate skin.
“Say it.”
You sniffed. He wasn’t giving in, and instead, stood there silently, unmoving until you finally caved. There was something about the color of his eyes. No matter how much they hardened, you still remembered the young man he used to be. The one who wasn’t quite so cold, who picked you flowers, even with blood dripping down his arm.
“Fine.” You narrowed your eyes. “I fucked Chuuya.”
Dazai blinked. Then, he started laughing. Crazily, maniacally. You saw too much of your old boss in him that it made you sick.
“Shameless.” Dazai took a step back and dropped the gun to his side.
“What?” you sneered, pressing yourself up against him, refusing to be intimidated by the man that had been yours for years. “Should I be ashamed?”
Dazai’s eyes flashed, his jaw clenching. “Yes,” he said, fists curling at his sides. “After everything I’ve done for you.” Dazai grew quieter, flicking a strand of hair out of your face. “Do you feel no remorse?”
“You can’t be serious. What have you done for me, Dazai?” You grew still, grabbing his wrist before he could touch you again. “You’re not upset I was with another man; you’re just upset that it was Chuuya.”
You poked him in the chest, a hot stream of air exhaling through your nose.
“I gave you everything, didn’t I?” The two of you spoke at each other, avoiding the answers, never acknowledging what the other had to say. Around and around you went, an endless circle until one of you finally conceded. “I’ve given you the world, and you still wanted more.” Dazai finally broke free of your loose grasp, stroking your cheek. “What can Chuuya give you that I can’t? I ask for nothing but honesty.”
There was no jealousy in the tone, no sorrow; it was the most genuine question he’d asked you in months. The inquiry of a man who’d lost sight of himself in the past few years, and who’d somehow, over time, forgotten what it meant to care for another.
“You gave me nothing,” you said, but somewhere along the way, your cheeks had grown wet. You’d been struck by the sudden affection in his voice, the softness harsher than a slap to the face.
He was a horrible man, the worst kind of man. Yet, you couldn’t imagine a life without him, a world where you existed alone.
The truth rested at the edge of your tongue. It wouldn’t solve much, your affection for him never had solved much, but at least he would understand.
“This was never about wanting more. I never wanted Chuuya. You’re a fool if you think that.”
Dazai was silent. You pressed on.
“I wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I’ve devoted my entire life to you. I do everything you ask.” You were breathing heavily, big gulping breaths that contained minimal oxygen. “I asked for nothing in return. Nothing but for you to care about me, and you never did.”
“Is that the case?” Dazai laughed humorlessly.
You ignored him, your confession leaving on one heavy breath, a string of words incomprehensible to your ears. “But Chuuya loves me. He always has, and he made certain I knew that.” You paused, averting your eyes. The entire city could be seen from the window over his shoulder. “He told me all of that, and you know what I thought the whole time?”
Dazai scowled.
“I wished that he was you instead. I wanted it to be you so badly, I wanted it to be you saying those things to me, kissing me like I was the most important thing in the world.” You took his wrist again, pressing the gun back to your temple. The cool metal was almost soothing against your skin. “Please, Dazai. Give me this one last thing. I’m begging you to kill me. I can’t take this any longer.”
His finger rested on the trigger.
“I want it to be you. I’ve never wanted to die at anyone’s hands but your own.” His hand felt just as it always had in your palm, his fingers much longer, but his skin so soft. It was almost comforting, how familiar he was, and you longed to be a part of him, to bury yourself deep within him and wear his skin as your own.
Dazai’s expression twitched, and you smiled at him, the taste of salty tears spilling into your mouth.
As you closed your eyes, you prepared for the noise, hoping your blood splattered on Dazai’s coat and stained it, the proof of your existence inerasable. You hoped that Dazai would grow to regret it, would realize that your love for him was close to unconditional.
But the violence never came. The cool metal fell away from your skin, and when you opened your eyes again, Dazai’s shoulders had slumped, the very image of defeat.
“Do you honestly think I can bring myself to kill you?”
“What’s the matter?” you asked, blinking your eyes open. You reached for the gun again, but he drew back, as if stung. “Afraid to lose your best assassin?”
“No.” Dazai’s eyes were hard, his frown set deep into his face. “I’m afraid to lose the woman I love. The most important person in the world to me.”
You stared. Blinked. Then, the worst kind of emotion washed over you.
You swallowed over and over, trying to get the bile out of your throat. You’d wanted to be done, wanted to escape. And yet—
“Don’t say that.” you shook your head, backing away as Dazai inched closer, too close and you felt yourself getting sucked back in, remembering that you’d loved him for years, and you’d never love anyone else. “Fuck you, Dazai. Stop toying with me, and just kill me."
“I love you. I thought you knew that my darling angel.”
You were crying harder, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you. You don’t care about me.”
“No?” Dazai had grabbed your wrist again, but it was so soft. “I thought you were smarter than that. Did you think you were partnered with Akutagawa at random, and not for the sole reason that I knew he’d do everything in his power to protect you? Did you think I moved your seat next to me at meetings because you were nothing more than my stupid whore? Bought you everything you ever wanted because I couldn’t stand you?”
“Yes,” you said, sniffing, feeling yourself melt where he touched you, itching to reach up and pull the bandages off his face, see the beautiful features beneath them that he hid from the world. “You don’t care about me."
“I do care,” he said, fingers grazing your chin. “I’ve killed for you. I took over the Port Mafia so I could give you everything you wanted. Why wasn’t that enough?”
“Because I never wanted that. I never wanted any of this. I wanted you, Dazai Osamu. That was all.”
Dazai frowned, and then he bowed his head, kissed your neck, then around your earlobe, and it was the softest you’d ever felt in your entire life, a gentleness you hadn’t known he was capable of. When his hands snaked around your stomach, pulling you back against him, you were lost in his adoration.
“You never said anything,” he said, kissing your shoulder, breaking the tension in the muscles. You were his, in every lifetime, you’d be his. “I thought you were… happy?”
“How could you think that? I’m not happy, Dazai. I’ve never been less happy.”
“Not even when I tell you that I love you?” he kissed your knuckles.
“Do you love me enough to be a better man? Do you love me enough to let me sleep in your bed and see your whole heart instead of the fragmented pieces that you sliced up just to hide?”
“Yes.” The word was resounding, resolute. “I love you enough to forgive you.”
You held him at a distance, lips falling apart easily. “But I don’t want to forgive you.”
“You will.” Dazai smiled, that irritatingly knowing smile of his that you’d fallen for in the first place. “You will because I mean it this time.”
“You never apologized,” you looked away, trying to find the strength to move. You were enraptured, in every fiber of his being. “You never will. You never do.”
“I never knew anything was wrong,” he frowned, and it wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, and you had him so close that you just wanted to forget anything had ever changed. “How was I to fix it if you never told me?”
His words were full of poison, but his voice was so soft you couldn’t help but fall back into him. Perhaps, you should’ve said something. Maybe your actions had never been enough.
“How long have I been at your side, spent hours listening to your every word, even when they didn’t make sense to me? You should’ve known, Dazai. I shouldn’t have to tell you something like that.” Your words were losing their bite, and his lips quirked up, knowing that you were slowly coming back to him, clearing you of the sins you had committed.
He was hesitant, thoughtful, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And perhaps, that was the final straw in your resistance, his gentle kiss enough to set your soul on fire.
“I’m sorry, my love,” Dazai said, his lips ghosting over yours, handing over the apology like a gift. “Won’t you give me a chance to fix it now?” It felt like a bad idea. Dazai wasn’t deserving of any more chances; you’d already given him years of second chances, had always given him the benefit of the doubt.
“You expect me to believe you’ll let us off scot-free?” you said, your face deadly close to Dazai’s. “What about Chuuya? Will you kill him in my place.”
“You’ve got me in your hand, love. If you want me to punish Chuuya, just say the word. I’ll kill him if that’s what you want.”
It wasn’t. That was the farthest thing from what you wanted, but you worried that if you sounded too enthusiastic, he might just follow through with it.
Instead, you pulled him to you, grabbing the dark tie that he wore around his neck. He grinned into your lips, his saccharine smile seeming much too deadly to be all that sweet. “Do you honestly think I believe a word that you’re saying?”
“You want to,” Dazai said, curling his hand around your jaw, his fingers brushing your ear. “That’s what matters the most.” He kissed your lips, and you could taste the difference, all the love he poured into it this time. It wasn’t like kissing a statue. “It’s all true, anyway.”
You broke away, breathing. “I won’t do this anymore, Dazai.” You finally had his hand in your own, placing the gun back to your temple. “You’re not the man you once were, and you’ll never be him again.” The smile that graced your lips was sad, though it was knowing. Things were always going to end this way.
Dazai’s face wrinkled as he tried to decipher all the words you’d never spoken. “I’m not the same man, that’s true, but my affection for you has never died.” He cupped his other hand around your cheek, hesitantly keeping the gun to your temple, squinting with his head bent.
“You’re the leader of the Port Mafia, and such a ruthless man wouldn’t let a betrayal go unscathed.”
There was a wave of silence while the two of you stared at one another, sifting through the situation with hardness in your jaws, the tension palpable within the air. Dazai straightened, clarity in his irises as a smooth smile burned onto his lips.
“Is that what you want?” he said innocently. “You want to be punished for your insurrections?”
Your mouth grew dry, but you held your ground firmly, swallowing back all the uncertainty. Perhaps you didn’t want to die. Perhaps you did. You just hated the gaping hole inside of you that never seemed to leave. “I want you to kill me.”
“Kill you?” Dazai laughed, then the hilt of the gun was against your temple once more. He held your chin steady between his forefinger and thumb, regarding you with thinly veiled disgust. “You’ve never wanted that before. Not when I asked you to die alongside me, to follow me far into the afterlife.” He sighed, releasing your chin before cocking the gun. “This isn’t about death at all.”
“What—”
“You want me to claim you, is that it?” He clicked his tongue before leaning forward, sneering. “Perhaps it’s that other way around. You want everyone in the Mafia to know I belong to you, hm?’
You blinked, though you began to feel weak in the knees, the eyes that you knew so well suddenly intimidating. “I never said—” but even then, your voice wavered, unsteady and uncertain of the immediate heat that had swirled under your skin.
Dazai’s mouth curled, a gruesome smile there. “I know you better than anyone. I’ve always known exactly what you want. Even though I shouldn’t forgive you, I can’t help myself.”
You swallowed, and Dazai had taken a step forward, pushing you with him, the gun still swaying at your temple, even when the backs of your thighs hit the bed. You fell onto the mattress, and he was on top of you, his finger caressing the trigger as he collapsed.
Dazai had never scared you, not even when he was a child you’d barely known, the teenager shaped in Mori’s image. Though, now, the unreadable expression on his face was alarming you, and you wondered if all this time, you should’ve been fearful.
Still, even with your underlying hesitance, you felt a wave of desire crash over you at the sheer need in his eyes. It wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with, but there was something else there. Maybe it was the love you’d just never noticed.
“Osamu,” you said in a quiet voice, not afraid, but not confident either. Your finger brushed the point on his wrist—it was the same heartbeat you’d always recognized.
“What?” he said, taunting you menacingly as he towered above you. “You were so bold just a second ago? What happened, darling?”
Unable to do anything but blink back at him, Dazai brought his thumb to your lips, brushing it across the plump skin before dipping it into your mouth.
Unprepared, you nearly choked, eyes blown wide as you stared back at him. Though, there was a command within his eyes, and you obliged, sucking as you watched the saliva drip down to his palm. Dazai pulled it away from your mouth with an obscene pop, giving you a sweet smile from his position above you.
Despite your humiliation, you shifted your hips on the bed, bringing your thighs together to provide you with a fraction of relief. Dazai’s eyes flashed at the movement, his smirk widening with an amusement.
“You’re nothing more than a dumb slut, aren’t you?” Dazai’s hand ghosted of your stomach, settling on the inside of your thigh momentarily. You ached with need, swallowing your pride and any demands that you could make of him. “Had Chuuya all to yourself this weekend, and still expect me to fuck you senseless.”
Your brow furrowed, and you opened your mouth before shutting it, lips still covered in your own spit. “Osamu,” you began, attempting to diffuse the situation, to explain that what had transpired between you and Chuuya meant nothing, but he never gave you the opportunity. “It wasn’t—”
Dazai’s gaze hardened, the adoration disappearing the moment you dared to speak. His fingers deftly wrapped around your throat, thrusting you into the mattress with enough force to quiet you entirely. “Shut up. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll ask. Understand?”
You could do nothing but nod, hating yourself for the ache that had grown more and more intense in your core, desperate for some sort of contact. Dazai, distracted with his own task of tearing your top off, had failed to notice the breathing that had grown heavier, the flush of heat that spread on every inch of your body.
His slender fingers finally removed the confining pants, a task he did skillfully with one hand still wrapped around your throat. Then, his fingers were against your aching cunt, and you twitched, letting out a heavy sound from the singular movement. You could feel yourself pulsing against nothing, desperate for his fingers between your legs.
“Pathetic,” he said, his fingers lazily dipping through your folds over your underwear. “I’ve barely touched you. How can you be this fucking wet?”
“Please,” you said quietly, your own hand aching to take over, if only to provide yourself that relief that he refused to give you. Every time you shifted into his hand, he brought it away, taunting you with the release you so craved.
“Please?” Dazai was mocking, cruel, every bit of the person people expected him to be. The one he never had been with you, not until recently. “You’re nothing more than a greedy little whore. Must have been why you fucked Chuuya without a second thought, huh?”
You were silent, staring him down with a clenched jaw. Your brain was twisting, betraying you, turning into empty cells within your skull, and you weren’t sure how to handle the accumulation of emotions that you felt for the man before you, the one who’s love had always been purposeful and merciless.
“Well?” he said, tightening a hand to close off the air to your lungs, trapping you with his strength. “Answer me.”
“No,” you gasped, and when your words sounded choked, when you clawed at his wrist, he loosened his grip just a hair, the only indication that the man you loved was in there at all. Still, your hips acted of their own accord, shifting further into his hand. “I’m sorry, Osamu, I am.” You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he finally slipped his fingers under your panties, rubbing your aching clit. “I wanted you; I needed you and you were never there, but Chuuya was, and—”
You were a stammering mess of desperation and regret, feeling unglued under Dazai’s hands, like the words you’d been meaning to say could finally come out. He was the only one who’d ever listened to you completely, who you’d felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with. Yet, it had been so long since you’d let yourself be open with him, and now that the opportunity arose, you were too weak to deny it.
“I was always here,” Dazai said harshly, and you were almost certain that his anger was genuine, the tone breaking in his voice a result of true sadness. “You never came to me, and I thought that’s how you wanted it to be.” His fingers sunk into you, and you threw your head back into the pillow, moaning sinfully with the lewd sound of him sinking in and out of you, the wetness collecting with every movement.
“You never showed me you cared,” you cried out, certain that there were tears streaming down your cheeks, and you should’ve been humiliated. It was humiliating—the way you were clothed in nothing, crying as Dazai laughed at you, taking full control over your body. How he could’ve done anything to you in that moment, and you would’ve let him, because that was just how much you wanted him.
“And Chuuya was the solution?” He grabbed your cheeks with the hand that had once been around your throat, pinching them to make you look at him. “You going to pass yourself around the rest of the Mafia, sweetheart? Who’ll get a taste of you next? I’m not so certain even Akutagawa would pass up the opportunity.”
His words were senseless, meant to hurt you, and you still couldn’t stand the anguish that was in his eyes.
“No,” you said, and you leaned up, wanting so badly for his lips to be on yours, to feel some semblance of the connection that you’d always had with him. “I wouldn’t, Dazai, I’m yours.” You choked on the sounds of your own moans, your thighs shaking with every change in pressure. “I’m yours. Please, I need you.”
You were certain there were marks on your neck from his fingertips, and Dazai ghosted his mouth along the delicate skin there, biting at the soreness from before. You jerked, digging your nails into his back as you drew closer and closer to your climax.
“Don’t make demands.” Dazai leaned back, and you missed the closeness, the sharp scent of him lingering in your space. “Chuuya hasn’t been a part of this conversation yet. Should we get him up here? I hadn’t considered what to do with him, but this might suffice.”
Dazed and drunk on the feeling of his hands all over you, it took you a moment to process what he was saying. His hand was already swiping through his phone, picking the number of the man that you least wanted to see.
“No, Osamu, don’t—” you cried out, and yet, you made no move to stop him. Instead, you remained pliant on the bed as he sunk another finger into you, his thumb moving in agonizing circles against your clit.  He tucked the cellphone under his chin, smiling at you maliciously, controlling you with every blink of his lashes.
You had always had trouble resisting him. Now was no different.
Chuuya answered as you released another moan, and Dazai was grinning wickedly, as if some larger scheme had finally come together, the culmination of everything he was plotting. “Boss?”
“Chuuya,” Dazai said, and you flinched, locking gazes with his deep brown irises, the color so alluring and beautiful, a shade that had darkened with each misfortune you’d endured together. You hated him, you did, but there was a fine line between the two, and your love for him would die with you, would transcend whatever simple rules the afterlife placed on Earth. “How quickly can you make it up here?”
You could hear the hesitation on the other side; Chuuya didn’t say anything for a moment.
“A couple minutes, I think. I haven’t left the building.”
“I’ll give you a couple minutes then.” Dazai’s words were clipped as he hung up the phone, throwing it to the arm chair a few feet away from the bed.
His attention was back on you completely as you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure before Chuuya came into the room. Though it was so hard when the pools in his irises were pulling you deeper, locking you into a heaven that you’d never been able to reach.
Dazai pulled away briefly, his soaking fingers leaving your body to alleviate his cock from the confines of his dark pants, hovering before you.
You swallowed, not able to remember the last time your desire for him ached this badly. Your eyes trained on the very part of him that you wanted inside of you, the tip flushed so beautifully. There was nothing on your mind but him, how you wanted every part of him, even if it meant enduring misery after misery, and Chuuya was right—if you were to love Dazai, you needed to love every part of him, even when it seemed impossible.
A whine escaped you and you were reaching out to him, knowing he’d never let you live down your humiliation, but the future was not a part of your logical thinking, not now. “Want you inside me.”
“Surely you can hold off for a few minutes,” Dazai said, though the way his toned chest pressed to your own, and how he kissed your face with a tenderness you’d forgotten made it nearly impossible for you to refrain. “So desperate for my cock.”
You wanted to touch yourself—you would’ve, had you not been so nervous of the fact that Chuuya could come in at any minute.
“Tell him to leave,” you said, dragging your fingers through his hair, finally kissing him like you’d been wanting to, and the sound was sinful, heavy with lust as you forced a taste into his mouth, wishing every part of him was a part of you too. “I don’t want him or anyone else, just you, I promise—” 
Dazai cut you off and ignored your pleas; he smiled against your lips, though it was anything but kind. “I think he’ll enjoy seeing you like this, won’t he? You’ve got such a filthy mouth on you when you’re fucked properly.” He kissed his way down your chest, resting his face just above your breasts. “I bet Chuuya didn’t see this side of you, did he?” Dazai licked a circle around your nipple, tugging it between his teeth. “I’ve done nothing but call you names and you’re dripping all over the sheets.”
You shook your head, feeling pained by how badly you wanted release.
“Of course not.” Dazai sat back up like he could sense Chuuya approaching from the other side of the door, his presence bold and detectible. “He’s forgotten what’s mine, after all.” He smiled at you once more, kissing you with a kind of love that only he could portray, the kind that was nowhere close to innocent. “Don’t cum until I tell you to. Be good for me, okay?”
Dazai had always known what to say to you, even when your relationship was falling apart, even when you hated him more than you loved him. His words could be so tender, the praise melted in with the unkind quips of his tongue. It was the gentlest tone he’d used since your clothes had come off, and you couldn’t help but melt under him, nodding like you’d give him anything he asked of you.
Of course you would.
Dazai traced your features delicately, grinning maniacally, ears attuned to the quiet that broke from the footsteps approaching. His cock was lined up against your dripping hole, and it took every ounce of restraint not to plant yourself on it, trying so hard to please him, the sinful man who held too much power over you.
“You’re so pretty like this, aren’t you? My beautiful little whore, always willing to take whatever I give you.”
“’Samu,” you babbled, blinking away the tears as you latched onto him, wishing you could spare yourself the humiliation, but too drunk on him to care. He shifted you forward, taking your thighs in his hands and placing them around his waist. “I can’t take it all at once—”
“You’ve done it before. Do it again.” He growled, squeezing your throat once more in one smooth motion, thrusting into you. And though you had doubted how prepared you were, he slid into you easily, already so loose and pliant from his fingers. “See? Never forgot the shape of me, sweetheart. Even after you’ve been with another man.”
You let out a choked moan as Chuuya walked into the room, lost in the ache and the burn and the pleasure that came with loving and fucking Dazai.
There was one singular pass of silence before Chuuya spoke, letting the door shut with a quiet click on the hinge. “Boss—” Chuuya was hesitant, though his eyes were immediately drawn to you, raking over your blissed-out form. “You said to—” His hand was still on the knob, though he was distracted, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, ashamed but so full of want that it ached.
“Come in, Chuuya,” Dazai said sharply, his words solid and commanding, and you couldn’t help it when you clenched around him, drawing him further into you with nails scraping down his back. “We should discuss something.”
“Well, can we talk about it when you’re not in the middle of fucking your girl?” Chuuya asked, swallowing down the desire he hid so poorly. His cheeks had flushed, words just on the edge of stumbling and slurring together. “Another time, maybe.”
“This is the perfect time, actually,” Dazai stopped moving, already breathing heavily above you as you stared, whined, needing so badly for him to stop teasing you. “Besides,” his eyes drifted knowingly to Chuuya’s obvious erection as he laughed darkly. “I don’t think you mind so much.”
Dazai pulled back painfully slowly before sinking into you with a quicker thrust, your back arching off the mattress to catch even more of him inside of you. A barely noticeable sweat had broken against his hairline, and you stared at him, mouth slightly agape in awe at the boss of the Port Mafia, the one you somehow had wrapped around your little finger.
Your breathing had grown unsteady as his cock got deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting where you’d never been quite able to get with your fingers, the thickness of him catching on every sensitive part inside of you. His hand was back between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit, and you weren’t sure you could last much longer, not as he carried on a conversation with Chuuya, who watched you with darkened eyes, barely holding himself back.
“Please, Osamu,” you were practically begging now, your cheeks glistening with wetness as you clawed at the muscles between his shoulder blades, surely leaving bruises all down his spine. “Please, please, let me cum.”
Dazai made a tsk noise in the back of his throat. “Not yet. I don’t think you deserve it quite yet, does she, Chuuya?”
Chuuya sniffed, shifting uncomfortably as his pants grew tighter. “Gonna punish her all day, boss? Such a pretty thing should get what she wants, shouldn’t she?”
Dazai dropped his chest closer to you, going deeper into you, and you cried out his name, though your eyes were still locked with Chuuya, as if he were going to be your savior. You remembered how gently he’d touched you, how careful he was, and you wondered why you’d ever wanted that at all.
“Chuuya thinks he can fuck you better than me, darling, but you know that’s not true, don’t you? He’d spoil you too much, but this is what you want, right? You want to be called a stupid fucking cockslut.” Dazai grinned against your lips, whispering in a breath that only you could hear. “Just so that at the end of it all, you’ll be my good girl.”
You whimpered, soaking him as you clenched harder. Your brain had gone numb from the feeling of him. Dazai was smiling viciously, but you could see the underlying tenderness.
“She looks so pretty right now, doesn’t she Chuuya? Not a single thought in that beautiful little head of hers.” He smiled at him knowingly, dark hair flopping into his eyes as the rest of the loose tendrils stuck to his forehead. “You’re lucky. You’ve gotten two chances to see her now. Twice as many as most men who fantasize about fucking a woman that sleeps in another man’s bed.”
Chuuya’s voice was raw, his words cracked. “You’re sick, Dazai,” he said, clenching his hands into fists. “Putting on a show like this just to punish me.”
“You and I both know you’re enjoying this.” Dazai traced your cheeks sweetly, kissing your lips deeply. You let out a strangled breath into his mouth, something on the precipice of a moan. “Can you do one thing for me, pretty girl? One more, then I’ll let you cum, how’s that?”
You nodded, desperately, as Dazai’s fingers finally dipped back down, rubbing agonizingly light circles.
“Tell Chuuya who’s making you feel this way,” Dazai said, pushing your face away from him to stare straight into Chuuya’s dark eyes. “Tell him who you love the most.”
“You,” you gasped out, clenching tighter around him. What an easy request to make—you’d never loved anyone else. “I’m in love with you.”
Dazai sniffed, though he was patient, slowing his thrusts almost to a stop. “Not good enough. I need you to be more specific.”
You cried out, locking your ankles onto his hips, trying to force him back into you. But Dazai didn’t budge, watching you until you provided the answer that he so desired. “I love you, Dazai.”
He frowned, shaking his head once more. “My name. Say it. It sounds so sweet from your lips.”
“Osamu,” you choked out. “I love you, Osamu. I love you. I love you.”
Dazai finally smiled above you, gently tracing your cheeks with his thumb as he slowed down the pace of his hips. “I love you too, darling.” His words were soft, whispered into your lips before he turned away, meeting eyes with Chuuya across the room. “See?”
Chuuya was glowering, stiff as a board, his face pink, and his legs shaky. “I got it, Boss.” He choked out, though his eyes were on you, unable to leave your body, even as he tried so hard to be polite. His aching cock strained against his pants, and he breathed sharply, swallowing over and over. “Do I need to be here any longer?”
Dazai laughed, and you thought he looked so pretty when he did that, his smile flashing wide and alluring, the corners of his eyes crinkling marginally. “Never said you had to stay. I figured you’d want to watch her come undone one last time.”
Chuuya, for as noble as he wanted himself to be, made no move to leave, glued to the spot on the floor beyond your bed. He was just across the room, but you couldn’t focus on anyone but Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, the man who you’d killed and bled and committed horrible acts for.
You said his name again, scrambling to bring his attention back to you, hands on his face with a desperation you didn’t realize you’d possessed.
And Dazai, with the kindness of a man he wasn’t, placed his hands just above your stomach, leaving kisses across your chin as he thrust into you, sweetly, menacingly, one last time. “You did so good, my love. You can cum now. Make a mess all over my cock, beautiful.”
You jerked, squeezing around him as you felt the pressure in you finally release, the colors shifting and changing between your high as Dazai brought you in and out of an orgasm, his words reaching your muddled brain with soothing noises. Your body twitched as your muscles spasmed, sweat gathering in the space under your knees. There was little in your mind, save for the dark-haired man that had quickly become your whole world.
You smiled lazily, lacing your fingers with Dazai as you slowly began to come back to yourself. The world around you was empty. Chuuya had all but disappeared into a block of nothingness as you stared into the world itself. If there was no Dazai, there was no you, and it was as simple as that. He was everything you’d ever wanted—you’d be a fool to ever left him go.
As you regained your breathing, still sensitive all over, Dazai came inside you, spilling hot release into you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care, too busy being satisfied with the feeling of him all over you.  His hands never left you—he was delicate, caring, pressing loving touches into your skin as you recovered from your high.
“I’m yours, Osamu,” you said, closing your eyes as you basked against the bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up against him, bury yourself in the warmth of another body. 
He smiled against your cheeks, lips flushed and bruised. “I know you are,” he said to you only, before pulling away. You shivered, but opened your eyes, and he’d already held the gun out to you, presenting it as an offering. “That’s why you’ll be the one to kill him.”
It took you all of ten seconds to remember who him was, and that the man who had borne witness to your most intimate moments with Dazai had not disappeared and was still gawking at you from the corner of the room.
“What?” you asked stupidly, your jaw falling open.
“You heard me.” Dazai pressed the pistol into your palm, curling your fingers around the handle. It was like ice against your hot body, and though it’d been years since your first time firing such a weapon, you suddenly felt like you were there again, uncertain, and afraid of the dangerous firearm. “Kill him.”
You stared at Chuuya, the honest man who, even despite his rough exterior, had been there for you since you were kids. You remembered how the three of you had been so close, for such a long time, until Dazai had gone and killed Mori and fucked it all up.
It felt wrong. The entire situation was wrong, and it never should’ve come to this.
“It’s Chuuya,” you said with tired eyes, something in your voice pleading and desperate.  
Dazai shrugged, holding you close against him as you struggled to sit up in the bed. Your muscles ached and you were still so sensitive, but reality was coming back to you. This was all a mess, and you wanted so badly to feel shame at everything you had done, but you were trying so hard just to–
“You’d think I’d let him live after what he did?”
“Osamu.” You weren’t sure you could bear it. You’d always sworn to kill whatever adversary Dazai and the Port Mafia faced, but Chuuya would always be an exception. You wanted him in your life as much as you wanted Dazai, someone you could trust without fail, who would listen to you complain even when it hurt him. “I won’t do it. He’s my friend. I thought he was yours too.”
Dark eyes full of disdain met your own, and he pinched your jaw once more, a mixture of devastating anger. “I can’t allow a traitor to live. I’ll kill him if you won’t. Then, I’ll kill you. Then myself.”
You shoved him away, suddenly wishing you weren’t so exposed, on display in the middle of the room. “Then fucking do it already, Dazai. What are you waiting for?” A tear broke free from your eye, and you wiped it furiously, not giving him a chance to mock you.
“Stop.” Chuuya finally spoke, his voice drawing your attention like a commandment, and you fell silent, refocusing on him as he bowed before you, dropping to his knees. Eyes locked onto your own without a single fear, cruel acceptance surrounding dark pupils. “It’s alright. I deserve to die. I’ve broken your trust, boss. I might as well be a traitor to the Mafia.” He swallowed, though he was unwavering. “I don’t want to live with this feeling any longer.”
“Don’t say that.” you spat, hating that such a strong man was giving himself over, exposing every weary weakness that he’d come to carry. “You don’t mean it.”
“I do.” He sighed, straightening his spine as he leaned forward towards your hand, much as you had done before, and you realized that this was such a sick, twisted change of fate. That the affection you’d always doubted was real after all, but Chuuya was still left playing the fool.
Perhaps, you were of the same vein, wanting desperately to die in the heavenly hand of the one you loved most. You could understand him for that. You could grant him one final wish.
“Do you regret any of it?” Dazai asked, as the wheels in your head spun, the decision dawning upon you, handed over from the ancient tragedies, rival even to the gloomy romances of Shakespeare.
Chuuya shifted towards the other man, looking into his cold, distant eyes. “No,” he said honestly, his jaw set. “I don’t regret it because now I know she’ll never love me. She’s all yours Dazai. Always has been. Always will be. Does that satisfy you?”
There wasn’t an ounce of fury in his expression when Dazai smiled back.
“You heard him,” Dazai said, lifting your limp arm by the elbow, pointing it like a skilled tutor. The gun was on Chuuya’s forehead, between his eyebrows, and your finger was on the trigger. Dazai’s whisper was like the Devil on your shoulder, and you were falling fast, your last shred of morality burnt from papery resolve. His hand supported your weakened muscles, guiding you along like you’d never before committed such an act. “You’re an assassin, aren’t you?”
You stiffened, narrowing your eyes before cocking the gun, mustering up the last bit of strength you had left. Chuuya couldn’t have looked more prepared for death, and you basked in Dazai’s prideful smile as he branded it into the crook of your neck.
“You’re certain?” you said to Chuuya, once more, hand no longer shaking despite your guilt.
The man, nothing more than a victim, nodded, and he had the audacity to smile, to look peaceful about his release from this life.
“I’m sorry, Chuuya. You shouldn’t have to bear the weight of my sin.” “It’s mine to carry, just as it is yours,” he scoffed, eyes hard with resolve. “Of all the things that would land me in Hell, I hardly believe this is the worst.”
You nodded, regrettably, and took a steely breath, erasing the heat the stung behind your eyes.
Then, you pulled the trigger. You waited for Chuuya’s brains to stain your floors, for the remnants of his skull to shatter all across the wall behind him. For the life to slowly drain from his stunningly bright eyes, leaving you with nothing but a corpse that would rot away wherever Dazai chose to toss his body.
Though, none of those things happened, and you stared at each other with fierce incredulity, knowing that you’d unwillingly become puppets in Dazai’s dramatic play, a show put on for no one’s entertainment but his own.
You’d been completely senseless, an idiot, really. The gun had felt lighter than usual, and you’d ignored it, even when you should’ve known it housed no bullets.
“Dazai?” you said in a low voice, dangerously, twisting to look at him from over your shoulder. An anger you’d never felt before had bubbled up inside of you, your heart thundering with a fierceness you hadn’t realized was a part of you. “There’s no bullets.”
“Obviously,” he scoffed, taking the gun away like it was but a toy, throwing it onto the armchair in the corner. “I’d never kill the strongest ability-user in the Mafia. You both should know me better by now.”
You scowled, the ugly expression marring your face, and Dazai frowned, leaning forward to appease you. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You played me for a fool. Was all of this an act?” you cried, wondering if maybe Dazai had been lying this entire time. Maybe all those sweet words he said had never been true, and you had fallen for them anyway, like the mindless pawn you were.
“Which part?” Dazai asked, but you could tell that he knew what answer you sought, what lies you wanted to unveil.
“You know which part,” you said, moving away from him, not sure what emotion to grant control. You felt an intense amount of fury, misery, and pity for yourself, who’d never asked Dazai for anything but to be on your side, and he still couldn’t give you that. “Fuck you, Dazai.”
Your lip quivered, but if you’d begun to cry, shame would swallow you up and drown you in the dark abyss of misery. You would have no other choice but to throw yourself out the window, where everyone in the Port Mafia could bear witness to all the ways that Dazai had ruined you.
“Boss—”
Chuuya’s sentence was cut off sharply.
You’d tried to climb out of the bed, but Dazai had grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could escape from him once and for all. Though he spoke to Chuuya, his eyes were hard on you, never leaving the set he stared into as you swallowed over and over, trying to think of anything but the sick feeling in your chest.
“You can leave now, Chuuya. Consider this your lucky day.” His voice was icy, threatening, and though Chuuya lingered a moment before climbing to his feet, he spared you nothing but a small glance in return.
You inhaled, then exhaled, trying to stop the simmering of blood within your veins, feeling the heavy weight of his hand on your wrist. As you sat there in silence, waiting for him to be the one to break it, you started to wonder how much of this was really Dazai’s fault, and how much you were the one to blame.
“It was a test.” Dazai tried to bring your attention back to him, letting only a fragment of emotion drain into his voice, though it was enough to slowly, slowly pique your fascination once more. “That was all.”
You wet your lips, though your tongue was just as papery. “So none of it was real.”
“What do you mean?” Dazai came to sit in front of you, his skin pale in the dark lighting, and you could see the cracks in his facade, and maybe this splinter in your failing relationship would slowly begin to heal itself. “Everything I said was very much real.”
His soft fingertips traveled up your arm, curling around your shoulder, across your collarbone, before settling in that delicate space between your jaw and your ear. There was a starry look in his eyes, the twin pair that had been exposed.
“Why would you do something like that to me?” you said, scrunching your face in remorse, wanting to slither away from him, even as he drew you closer, close enough to smell the expensive cologne he wore, the liquor that he favored when you were away. His hair had been freshly washed, and the smell of shampoo still lingered, even under the thin layer of sweat.
“Why would you do something like that to me?” Dazai countered, the hurt not veiled in the slightest this time, and it didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. Heat flooded to your cheeks, and you were looking away, wondering why he was pulling you close to his chest when he should be hating you with the passion of a thousand fiends. “How could I trust you after that?”
You parted your lips to speak, but your jaw was locked, and the inside of your mouth tasted like cotton.
“I’m not a good man,” Dazai said, kissing the shell of your ear, your temple, and you squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to his bicep. “You’ve always known this. Yet, for as often as you talk about me with disgust dripping from your words, I’ve never sought to bring you pain.” He breathed in deeply, and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how much longer it’d be before you wept. “You’ve caused me pain.”
You tried to cry out, to tell him that you never thought it would hurt him, but he’d seen the very same in you, hadn’t he? You’d never given him any indication that the coldness in his words was bothering you, that the blurred lines of your relationship were getting confusing and hurtful, and he had done the same.
“We’re not good for each other, Osamu,” you whispered quietly, your lip quivering. The weight of your voice shattered against your vocal cords.
He let out a breathy laugh, smiling against your forehead. “On the contrary, I think we’re the perfect fit.”
For what reason he believed that, you weren’t sure.
You clenched your jaw tight, but it didn’t stop the feeling of tears from overwhelming you, hot droplets that spilled heavy from your eyes, running off your chin to Dazai’s chest. Your hands shook, clenched around his arms so tightly you were sure you were breaking the skin.
Dazai pulled away, monitoring your face with concern. You hated the way he looked at you with such pity when he was the reason for such pain. Yet, you couldn’t help but curl into him, warm, never wanting to escape from his reverence. “Why are you crying, my sweet angel?”
Nausea soured your mouth, and the regret that tinged you, tainted you, was vastly overwhelming. It was horrible in a way that you’d never felt.
It struck you, then, that you’d been blind to Dazai’s every affection, too ignorant to notice the ways that they had shifted as his life did. He no longer held your hand over the table during meetings, but the chair beside his was just as grandiose, and he greeted you with something of a smile when you walked into each room. He no longer accompanied you on assignments, but you were always taken care of, in a hotel most people couldn’t afford with a partner that could singlehandedly take out a hundred men. He no longer picked you flowers from a wild field as he’d done as a boy, but the vase on the table always held a beautiful bouquet of deep, red roses, without a single wilting flower.  
Chuuya, all this time, all these years had been right. There was no use in loving Dazai if you couldn’t stand him in his darkest hour, the bitter ugly side of him that no one wanted to see.
You’d never thought about it, really, but you’d changed just as he had. Everyone in the Mafia had blood on their hands, was ruined in more ways than one, and you were no exception. If loving Dazai meant loving those parts of him, then loving you meant just the same.
The tears fell harder, and Dazai seemed panicked, stricken, always so oblivious when it came to the affairs of your heart, and sometimes he tried, but you couldn’t hate him if he didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” you said pitifully, knowing from the spoiled heart in your very chest had ruined everything. “I’m sorry.” You said it again and again until Dazai was shushing you, running a large, cool palm down your back, the only way he knew to soothe you.
“I wish I’d never done it. I wish I’d just spoken to you, asked you, anything—” you wiped your face, heavy breaths stuttering before Dazai took your hands away, and erased the tears for you. “I just thought you hated me. It was the only thing that made sense.”
Dazai smiled sadly, because no one had taught him to love. How was he to know that he’d been doing it wrong all this time. “I wish I’d seen it before. I didn’t mean to push you away.” He sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder with a weariness that he’d been born with. “I’m sorry.”
A tingling sensation began under your skin, and you were warm all over, realizing just how much that apology had meant to you. For some reason, it felt like coming home.
The strong grip that nostalgia had on you gradually began to melt away.
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moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
no cause I was thinking…. reckless driving by lizzy is so james coded!!! so I wanted to ask if you could write something inspired by it with reader being a bit insecure about loving him loudly and he’s just like a walking „I love my gf“ sign
ily I hope you are having a great day/night🫶🫶
Thanks for requesting, love you!
modern au
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
It’s beginning to frighten you how often you think of James. One of your friends will make a joke and you’ll catch yourself trying to remember it for him, or you’ll see a cute dog and want to send him a picture, or you’ll overhear a conversation in public and wish he were with you to press in close to your ear and ask Did you hear that? 
It’s sort of pathetic, really, considering you’ve only been dating a few weeks. The last time you’d met up you talked about how much you both loved the thin oreos, and when you saw a pack in the store yesterday you’d almost bought it for him. Only the realization of how much your life has started to revolve around him stopped you. 
You can’t be acting like James’ girlfriend. You’re only dating. It’s not like you love him—though you could, definitely, in time. But if you start doing girlfriend things, he’s going to think you are his girlfriend, and things will spiral out too fast for you to stop them. You have to dole out your affection in measured doses. Careful, controlled. 
You feel James enter before you see him. He holds the door to the coffee shop open wide, letting another woman exit before he steps inside, and the cool air that comes in with him has you turning your head. 
James is smiling as soon as he sees you. It’s a seemingly perpetual thing for him, this expression. You’re tempted to look out the window to the sidewalk and see if he’s left a trail of sunshine in his wake. 
“Hey,” he says, sitting down across from you. “You look really lovely.” 
You look exceedingly normal, but you thank him for the compliment anyway. “So do you.” 
“Thanks,” James says easily, like he gets this all the time (he probably does) but appreciates it nonetheless. He starts to dig in the tote he’s hung on the back of his chair. “I’ve brought you something.” 
You start to protest, but he anticipates you. 
“It’s tiny, don’t worry. Here.” 
He slides something crinkly across the table. It’s a pack of thin oreos. 
“Oh, no way! I almost…” You look up, meeting James’ eyes as your brain catches up to your mouth. Too late, you’ve blurted. You can hardly roll it back now. “I almost got a pack for you the other day, too.” 
He doesn’t seem to take your insensitivity to heart. In fact, his eyes light up. “Really! That’s so funny.” His hand remains still on the table but his fingers stretch towards yours, the barest of touches. “It was nice of you to think of me.” 
Your heart slumps. “I’m sorry I didn’t get them for you, though,” you say. “We should share these ones.” 
“Nope.” James leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Those are all you, love. Say, have you had a look at the menu?” 
You wince. “I’ve already ordered, actually.” 
“That’s alright,” he says breezily. “Back in a sec.” 
He stands and gets in line, leaving you to contend with the semi-awkward silence of being in the same place yet not speaking. Right as he finishes ordering, the barista calls your name. James looks like he might grab your drink for you, but you meet him at the counter, thanking the barista as you take it. 
“No problem,” she says with a smile. “Love your outfit, by the way.” 
You fluster a bit at the compliment, a break from the typical coffee shop dialogue you were prepared for, but James wraps a friendly arm around your waist and beams right back at her. 
“She’s got great taste, doesn’t she?” he asks, and you manage to cast a quick thanks over your shoulder as he steers you back to the table. “See, it’s not just me that thinks you look especially pretty today.” 
“Oh, hush,” you say, taking your seat and looking down to stir your drink bashfully. “What’d you order?” 
“Irish cream latte. Limited edition, apparently.” 
“So, the sweetest thing on the menu.” 
The smile spreads on James’ face. It ebbs and flows like the tide, you think, never really leaving. “You know me so well.” 
The warmth in his voice makes your chest feel hollow and achy. James goes to such lengths to do nice things for you, to show you that he pays attention and thinks about you and cares, and yet when it comes to you he’s left settling for whatever scraps of affection he can get. 
“James…” Your tone reveals your shift in mood instantly, and James’ head straightens the way a dog’s ears perk when it hears something alarming. “You know I want to take things slow, right?” 
He nods, and when he speaks his voice is considerately softer. “Yeah, you’ve said. Do you think we’re—I’m moving things too fast right now?” 
“No, just,” you wet your lips, having some trouble looking at his face, “I don’t know, I feel like I’m not being as good as you deserve. You’re such a sweet person, and I think…sometimes I feel like maybe you’d be happier dating someone who could be more all-in. You know?” 
For a second, the silence is torture. Then: “Someone you’re trying to set me up with, sweetheart?” 
You look up in surprise, but James is smiling again. Softer, now. Almost tentative. You find yourself mirroring him reflexively. 
His knee bumps yours under the table. “I don’t mind moving slowly with you,” he says. 
“Are you sure?” you ask. “Because you seem like you’re ready for more.” And I don’t know if I can manage that yet. 
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He takes your hand in his, and his eyes are soft, sweet caramel. He looks almost like he could love you. “If I’m coming on too strong, you can tell me, but I care about you. It’s hard for me not to be all-in, but that doesn’t mean I’m expecting the same thing from you. You seem like a sane, well-adjusted person.” James nods seriously. “Something I could use, I’ve been told.” He tries to keep the poker face when you grin, but fails in half a second. 
“Okay.” You give his hand a little squeeze. “Let me know if you change your mind, okay?”
“I won’t,” he says certainly. “I always go for the sweetest thing on the menu, remember?” 
You take your hand back to cover your face, and James’ laughter echoes off the walls. 
591 notes · View notes
mysumeow · 16 days
Text
. . . ꒰ TEMPTING
Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is referred to with you/your only. PIV unprotected sex, edging, prone bone position, thigh job, pwp (plot what plot). This is sort of a continuation of another smut i posted but you can read this without reading the first one.
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: uhg. lilia. i love him. i love general lilia. thats it that all i have to say.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | TWST MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS
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Whenever a window of opportunity to rest presents itself, you’ll sit on the nearest tree stump or log available, idly watching what happens around you.
You see soldiers' training, sparring, fixing tents, and the general dividing tasks among his subordinates with a stern voice. Lilia’s an example of what being a leader means—not limiting himself to delegating labor, but also lending a hand.
He grabbed the handle of his lithic weapon as he sparred with one soldier; with practiced ease, Lilia unarmed the soldier. The general reprimanded the other fae for losing his footing over a basic movement.
Lilia plans tactics for ambushes furtively, aiming to attack the enemy’s weakness first. Deft and sharp.
Soon, you’d understand that the general isn’t used to docility of any kind. Neither giving nor receiving. A war general shouldn’t allow a margin of error, steps should be given with precision and intent on subduing your adversary.
You recalled your first intimate night with Lilia. You remembered the sensation of him holding back, and even then, he still did a number on your body. You’ve spent enough time with the fae to know that the moment you try to point out any attempt at tenderness on his part, he would deny it.
You couldn’t help but find it endearing. And your curiosity increased the more you wondered about to what extent you could tease him and make him lose his constraints. Lilia’s libido was pretty responsive to what you did or said, so it wouldn’t be difficult to push him in that direction.
The moment the soldiers were already in their tents, you sneaked into the general’s.
“I’m heading to the lake to wash off the dirt,” you said as you entered the tent. You found your fae writing something down on the map splayed across the table.
Lilia acknowledged you with a hum.
You sighed. “I don’t wanna go alone. The woods become frightening the moment there’s no more sunlight, you know.”
Lilia dropped the pencil and looked at you. “A little dirt on your body’s not going to kill you,” he teased.
“You know I can’t sleep like that. I sweated a lot today, too. Baur made me accompany that expedition group to the mountain’s skirt in the morning,” you complained. “I promise it won’t be long.”
You sensed that he was about to give up.
“And someone could sneak up on me and see me naked.”
That was enough argument for the fae to stand up from his chair and rush to tag along with you.
This was your favorite moment of the day, when you could not just finally go to bed but also freshen up with clean water. Even if the temperature might be a bit chilly during the night, the fresh water was welcome to clean you up from the dirt and sweat clinging to your skin.
“The water feels nice,” You hummed as you dipped your toes into it. Lilia was more concerned about making sure no one was near, though, his ears flicking at the slightest suspicious sound.
You began undressing in front of him, as you have done many times before. Even with your back turned towards him, you could feel his stare roaming around your flesh.
You walked into the serene lake until the water covered your chest.
“Lilia,” You called out to him again. His gaze returned to you. “Why don’t you join? You look like you need this, too.”
“You said you wouldn’t take long. I still have work to finish.” He crossed his arms, gripping his lithic.
“Just this once,” You almost pouted. “You’ve been busy these past few days. I miss you already. I’ll even help you wash your back.”
You held Lilia’s stare before he, for the second time today, humored you. Soon, his clothes were untidily placed next to yours.
Beaming with joy, you hugged Lilia the instant he was within reach.
“General, your hair’s getting wet,” You hurried to help him fix his hairstyle in a way that the inconvenience would be resolved. “There. All done.”
Lilia grumbled about something meaningless as he allowed you to scrub his back, washing off both dirt and dried blood and uncovering new lacerations he had gained from recent ambushes. You traced them with your fingers, leaning closer to kiss those scars.
You couldn’t see Lilia’s expression, but you did sense his body’s temperature going up.
“Mm, you’re so warm,” You relished the warmth from the fae’s body. Your tits pressed flush against his back, and your hands roamed around his front—feather-like touches teasing his chest and abdomen. You were aware that your words and actions were leading in a certain direction, so before Lilia beat you to it and followed through with it, you pulled away from him. “It’s getting chilly, though. Let’s head back already.”
In the blink of an eye, Lilia gripped your wrist and pulled you towards his chest. Your backside making contact with something hard and hot, nudging in between your thighs.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Hm? I thought the general had work to finish,” You feigned innocence.
“That can wait. Right now, I need to have you.”
“But we’re in a lake! Someone could walk in on us. Let’s head back to the tent,” Ignoring the evident ache in your body, you did your best to deter him. For fun. To test how far you could make him wait. If not for your determination to uncover the fae’s strength, you would’ve conceded.
Under the promise, the general’s complaint had died for the moment.
Once in the tent, you were preparing to go to sleep, until a sudden force pinned you against the bed. A small squeak left you, and the familiar arms squeezing your waist made you understand that your little teasing reaped an interesting reaction from him.
“Lilia—” You tried to gain some balance by trying to prop your torso up with your hands, but the general immobilized you by further pinning your legs against the mattress with his.
“You little tease, you think I wouldn’t notice what you were trying to do?” He brushed away the hair covering your nape to nip at the sensitive skin there. “If you wanted me to rough your body up, you should’ve just asked for it,”
This was what you wanted, although you didn’t imagine it would be this soon. If this little teasing got you to this point, you couldn’t imagine how he would be if you had done more...
One hand slipped under your underwear while his other hand covered your mouth in time before a moan escaped you. With his index and middle fingers, he began rubbing your clit in circular motions.
“I’ve been treating you with so much leniency you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with,” His breath against your ear made you shiver, and a renewed sense of pleasure overtook your body. “I’ll have to remind you,”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You managed to whisper, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible but failing with how he played with your sex. Lilia really did know you inside out.
“You were already wet when I slid my hand under your clothes. Don’t try to act coy now,” He seemed to be amused, above all.
You clutched the sheets as you lost yourself in pleasure, your head falling against the pillow and using it to muffle your voice. You barely register Lilia pulling your pajama pants down and off your legs.
The fae grew eager, having a sliver of enough composure left to discard your underwear, but your uncoordinated and trembling body made the task more complicated than needed. Instead, he pushed it to the side, his fingers not once faltering in stimulating you.
A muffled whimper of his name. Not even a second later, Lilia stopped his movements.
“Noo, what’re you doing,” You protested, not expecting him to halt. “I was about to…”
“Aw, you were about to. What a pity,” He mocked you, momentarily freeing your body from his antsy hands to remove his own garments. Once done, you felt him spread your slick nether lips with his thumbs, eyeing you up with a satisfied, complacent grin. “You like being treated like this. You have no salvation, do you?”
Despite not being able to deny it, your face burned from embarrassment. Even if Lilia tended to put your pleasure first and holds back from going all out, the change in that tactful demeanor into a meaner one still excited you.
While holding you open still, he grinded his cock between your pussy lips, using both his pre-cum and your arousal to lubricate it. You were growing impatient, and thus, tried to grind back against him to incite him into already giving in.
Lilia rested his weight against your back, his chest flush against it, weighing you down. Lilia dug his fingernails into your flesh, while demanding that you stay still. His fingers went back to playing with your clit, while using your sticky inner thighs to pleasure himself.  
After what felt like forever, the tip prodded inside, taking his time to stuff you with more of his dick. He pulled back until the just head was in and thrust with more strength. The feeling of Lilia’s warm body embracing yours and his thickness stretching you almost made you forget about holding back your voice.
From the very moment you conceived the idea of teasing him, to Lilia not allowing you to touch yourself or him, the buildup to your orgasm approached faster than what you expected. As if both factors weren’t enough, you were still sensitive over the climax you were robbed of prior moments ago.
You mewled, trying to reach behind you and hold his hand to ground yourself.
Instead, the fae grabbed your arms and pinned them against your back, his pace not stuttering for even a minute.
This was what you wanted—for him to be rougher…and within a couple more smacks of his hips against yours, you came hard around him, broken moans of his name escaping from your bitten lips. Lilia quieted himself by kissing your shoulder the moment he released his cum inside. He leaned down and busied your lips with an open-mouthed kiss.
Sore and spent, your head collapsed forward against the pillow again. You heard Lilia’s amused chuckle, resting next to you while keeping an arm wrapped around you.
“I wasn’t too rough, right?” He muttered after a while in silence, his eyes inspecting your body. “Does it hurt somewhere?”
“My arms, you gripped me too hard,” You mumbled. “I didn’t notice it at the moment because…it felt nice…”
At your confession, he looked taken back by it before his expression shifted into a relieved one and he chuckled. “I should’ve known you like being treated like that. You are quite keen about my fangs, and I’ve noticed how your body melts when I bite you,”
Before you could fawn over the demure visage that took over his eyes for a split second, it faded away with the same ease it appeared as he turned his head to the other side.
“I love it when you’re trying to be gentle, even if you’re not that great at it,” You teased, your fingers brushing his hair. Lilia grunted, suddenly grumpy about you pointing that out. “But I also enjoy it when you’re rough,”
He humphed, still avoiding facing you. You smiled at him, despite it not being visible to him. You closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion getting to you.
271 notes · View notes
kaeddehara · 1 year
Text
GRINDING — NSFW
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albedo + heizou + childe
♱ notes — suggestive themes + a little lazy post + lots of teasing <3 + please enjoy !!
| ALBEDO |
“come on bedo, just take a little break for me”
you pouted as albedo seemed in distress about all the work he currently had piled up at his desk. his left hand threaded through his blonde fringe while the other continued to write.
“in a moment, let me finish my analysis”
you tsked at his words. it’s always “in a moment” with albedo and never something different. you were growing tired of it and only had one solution running through your mind the whole time you watched him work.
after a few minutes, he finally set down his pencil, letting his body fall limp against the back of the chair with a sigh. it was the perfect moment for you to put your plan into play. prancing over to your exhausted boyfriend, you took a much deserved seat atop his lap.
“come on, let me finish my work—“
his frustrated words were quickly cut himself off with a sudden hitch in his throat as he felt you continually shift atop his lap. whatever he was saying soon turned into a soft hum as he tried his best to conceal both of you.
“you never give up do you?”
albedo half whispered next to your ear as you let your eyes run all over the pretty handwriting of his analysis and messy table. you grinded particularly hard down against his crotch in response.
“you deserve it yeah? let me treat you”
“i don’t need a trea—hnng…”
his eyes practically rolled back as he felt your cold fingertips grazing the skin of his thigh under his shorts. such a sensitive area you were oh so familiar with. leaning back onto his chest, you let out a sweet sigh and looked up at your troubled boyfriend. his bangs covering his closed eyes which were fluttering under his sealed eye lids. as if opening them on cue, his gloved hand sat itself snuggly on your waist. his lips brought up to the cuff of your ear, whispering the dirty words so softly,
“bend over my desk for me”
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| HEIZOU |
“come on zou, you know i can feel how hard you are”
you teased just right against his lips which as couldn’t keep his eyes off of. fuck, did you always have to tease him like that? it practically drove heizou insane how good you were at teasing him back and shutting him up. as if you both didn’t already know the effect you had on him just with your words, heizou found your hand to be softly following each crevice and line of his torso. his firm chest was tempting you to slip your hand through his thin top to cop a quick feel. his nicely sculpted waist which was perfect in your grasp—so soft yet firm. your fingertips toyed with the hem of his shorts almost like you were egging him on and seeing what move you could make him do next. your hand skimmed the hem of the shorts all the way down to in between his legs which was practically begging for any kind of attention. softly teasing the outline of his bulge through the thick fabric made heizou barley wince as you continued your little game with him. as if you already knew how mesmerizing your touch was to heizou, you quickly removed your hand and placed it back on his shoulder where your other hand laid. you replaced your hips, getting back to the straddling position you held earlier and created subtle, gentle bouncing motion as if to imitate you riding him.
“got you worked up so easily hm?”
your eyes laid half lidded and voice filled with a coy tone that brought heizou to his limit.
“if you’re gonna be a fucking tease all night i’m not gonna be so gentle with you”
“when are you ever gentle?”
he chuckled at your retort as did you before he brought back the serious gaze that had just fled his eyes. he turned his head to fit in the crook of yours before nibbling softly into the skin.
“i’m gonna ruin you if you keep using that tone with me”
the light and lust in your eyes never flicked and grew all the more intense as you tried to think of all the disgusting and outright humiliating things heizou planned to do with you <3.
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| CHILDE |
his lap looked so appetizing in that moment, you couldn’t help your eyes from staring.
“need something pretty girl?”
he always was sly with his tongue too, always a smooth talker and knew what to say. you slid your gaze away from him entirely before slowly making your way over to the tired ginger. his eyes never left his paper as he continued to write his report back to the fatui, but you just couldn’t help yourself. being away from your love for so long, it drove you insane. you leaned over his desk, admiring all the documents and rather neat desk he was working at. childe let his dark, blue eyes fall over you momentarily before shifting back to his papers.
“you know if there’s something you want, i’m more than willing to help you out with that”
his tone was so genuine but his words told a different story. he knew what you wanted but was gonna play a long game with you until you caved in. he pushed his chair out and looked up to you as if to welcome you to his lap.
“go on”
you sighed in a relief as you made yourself comfortable on top of his lap.
“now just be good for me while i work” he kissed your cheek before focusing back on his papers. you were satisfied in the least other than being on top of childe, his scent and his warmth already made you feel more at home. you thought that playing a teasing game with childe was the way to go considering his focus was elsewhere. adjusting yourself on his lap and running your hands over his thighs got you no where. childe already knew how badly you wanted him and want to make you beg for it.
“you know, keeping your hands to yourself might be a good option right now”
his words caught you off guard as they were whispered right inside your ear.
“what do you mean ajax?”
that faked innocence in your voice did nothing but drive him even more insane. he was tired of your little game and didn’t was going to get what he wanted from you. you felt a large hand push at your back, leaning you over his desk which was still covered in his important papers. you whined at this feeling, still knowing his frontside was still hard against you.
“you wanted this so bad so go on, grind yourself on me.”
the embarrassment was almost too much to handle as your hips shifted slightly to fill in his request. a low chuckle came from his thought as you continued being so shy with your movements.
“i know you got more in you than that, you wanted this so badly too now you’re acting all shy. am i going to have to do it for you?”
1K notes · View notes
ks-dreams-fantasies · 8 months
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BIRTHDAY BOY | TRAVIS KELCE
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a/n: I've been swamped with homeworks so I missed Travis's birthday but an ânon asked me to write something about it still. Hope you enjoy it 🥰 Thanks for all the love recently, like and reblog it really helps 🙏🏼
Warning: smut (18+) unprotected sex, teasing and slight choking.
Words : 1,853 (not proofread)
Pairing : Travis Kelce x Reader
anon : Hiii. love your writing. I know Travis’s birthday was a couple of days ago but do you think you could write something along the line of reader throwing him a bday party, maybe a happy ending, if you know what I mean.
BIRTHDAY BOY | TRAVIS KELCE
‘’Baby, you have to start getting dressed or we are going to be late’’ you said as you looked at yourself in the mirror, putting your golden earrings on. 
You had organized a party for Travis’s birthday. All his friends, teammates and family were invited to celebrate with you both. You had rented a beautiful fancy restaurant with an outside patio for the occasion. Kylie had helped with everything, and you couldn’t wait to show your boyfriend what you had planned for him. 
‘’I know it’s for my birthday’’ he said approaching you ‘’but do we really have to go?’’ he continued while circling your waist with his strong arms, resting his head on your shoulder. ‘’I literally have everything I need right here’’ he smiled at you in the mirror.
You smiled at him fondly, ‘’I worked too hard for us not to go, plus you’re the star tonight, the main event.’’ You answered back, turning around in his arms lacing your hands around his neck.
‘’Well… what about we skip the main event and go straight to the after party?’’ he asked teasingly as he peppered some kisses from your shoulder to your neck. You closed your eyes for a second, enjoying the moment.
‘’It sounds very tempting… but no’’ ‘’Oh come on baby I just wan…’’ you pushed him away cutting him off mid-sentence.
‘’Trav, go get ready’’ you said laughing before turning back around to finish putting on your makeup. 
‘’Alright now’’ he said smirking before slapping your ass, making his way to his walk-in closet.
-
The night was alive with laughter and music, the room filled with people and the patio illuminated by twinkling fairy lights. It was a celebration, a party you had meticulously planned for your tall, handsome boyfriend's birthday. 
As you watched him mingling with friends and family, a warm glow of satisfaction settled in your chest. Approaching him with a smile, you couldn't resist a playful tease. "So, what do you think of your birthday bash, huh?"
He turned to you, his eyes sparkling. "This is incredible, baby. You've truly outdone yourself."
You grinned, your heart swelling. "Well, you deserve nothing less, birthday boy."
He leaned in, his voice low and intimate. "You always know how to make me feel special."
You couldn't help but reach out, gently tracing your fingers along his arm. "Only because you are special."
As the night continued, your playful banter and shared laughter echoed through the room. Your fingers brushed in secret conversations, a language of love that only both of you understood.
Later, as the clock approached midnight, you led him to a quiet corner of the garden, away from the revelry.
"You know," he mused, a playful glint in his eyes, "I can't help but wonder what other surprises you have in store for me."
You chuckled, a hint of mystery in your voice. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"
He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender but passionate kiss. "I'm looking forward to it. But I have to tell you, I’m getting impatient for that after party’’ you laughed before hitting his chest lightly. You stayed outside for a little bit, talking and stealing kisses before joining the other guests inside. 
While chatting with friends, his eyes locked onto yours with a magnetic pull. You glided into his arms, feeling the heat radiating from his body, igniting a fire within you that refused to be ignored. Travis always had that ability to make you giddy in the knees even after all those years together. The night was still alive, but the drinks that you had ingested were making you feel even more needy for your boyfriend than ever. 
‘’Care to join me on the dancefloor?’’ you purred, your voice a sultry caress meant for him alone as one of your favorite songs started to play. 
He accepted with a coy smile, your fingers intertwining with a promise that spoke volumes. The closeness was electrifying, a charged connection that left no room for ambiguity.
As the music ebbs away, Travis leaned in, his breath mingling with yours, the air thick with unspoken longing. "Are you drunk, my love?’’ he asked with a hint of humour in his voice.
Your eyes lock onto his, a wicked gleam dancing in your gaze. ‘’Maybe just a little tipsy’’ you chuckled. 
In the dim light, his hand found yours, fingers tracing patterns of promise along your skin. The night stretched on, the world falling away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of shared desires. 
‘’As much as I love what you pulled for me, how about we get out of here?’’ Travis asked, his voice a low, velvet invitation. You locked eyes before nodding rapidly. You didn’t even have time to say your goodbyes before your boyfriend practically dragged you out to the car. He opened the door for you and jogged to his side of the vehicle before getting in. The second he closed the door he turned around grabbing you by the neck as he enveloped your mouth with his. The kiss was bold and gentle at the same time, and you could feel all the love you guys had for each other. 
You licked his lower lip, asking for entrance before your tongues hungrily battled one another. You let out a muffled moan as he placed his left hand on your upper thigh, close to your aching core. He detached himself from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he breathed through his nostrils.
‘’We should get home before a paparazzi snaps a pic of me fucking my girl out in public.’’ He said making you giggle. ‘’I wouldn’t be opposed to that’’ you joked sending him a wink as he put his keys in the ignition. 
‘’Don’t… you know damn well I’d take you in the backseat right now if you asked me’’ he warned you with a smirk. 
-
The moment you stepped into the house, Travis had you pinned against the wall, his head buried into your neck, attacking your skin with open mouth kisses. You couldn’t contain your moans as his hands squeezed your breasts. 
Your nails gently stroked his scalp as he hummed in satisfaction. You could feel your arousal through your panties as he tapped your thighs signaling you to jump into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands landed on your ass supporting you as he moved you up the stairs towards your bedroom.
 Once near the bed he put you down before pulling your dress down carefully not to shred it into pieces. That’s all he wanted to do but he knew you would be pissed if he ruined your new gown. As the fabric fell smoothly on the ground, Travis sighed and shook his head, licking his swollen lips.
‘’No panties huh?’’ he semi-asked with a devilish smile, his eyes raking every millimetre of your body before he spun you around, your hands landing on the mattress. ‘’Naughty’’ he slapped your ass cheek making you gasp in surprise, your thighs involuntary clenching together.
His fingertips brushed against the newly exposed skin making you squirm before pushing your ass to meet his hard bulge. Your core was throbbing with need, and you could already feel your wetness almost dripping down your legs in anticipation. Tilting your head to the side, you could barely see Travis, but you knew he was focused on your every move. ‘’Please baby’’ you whined as he smirked.
‘Impatient much, my love?’’ he said dragging one of his hands towards your wet folds, teasing you slightly. You moaned and tried to push your hips against his fingers to get more friction, but he moved away.
‘’So you get to tease me all day, but I can’t? That doesn’t seem fair… especially since it’s my birthday’’ he stated before getting rid of the rest of his clothes quickly. Images of him fucking you senseless were clouding your mind leaving you with no words to respond. 
‘’Well, you’re lucky I can’t wait anymore’’ he said, teasing your entrance with his swollen cock before slamming into you with a force that made you stop breathing. You gasped, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you could feel his tip hitting your cervix at a rapid pace. 
‘’Oh fuck’’ you let out, your voice above a whisper. ‘’Look at you, always so needy for me huh?’’His fingers found your needy core again, circling your clit making you squirm, feeling your stomach coil tighter with every second. You wish you could have disagreed, but you knew that he was right, he had that effect on you. 
He pressed you closer with his hand, groaning lowly as he felt your walls tighten around him. He took in your every move, staring, chest rising and falling rapidly as you moan loudly for him. He yanked your makeshift ponytail back, bringing your back to hit against his toned chest. You screamed loudly at the new position, his member hitting you even deeper than it was before. 
He growled in your ear as his hand found your neck, choking you slightly just like he knew you liked it. You were positive that you felt every possible sensation in that exact moment. Travis was fucking you so good, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars with every thrust.
‘’Are you going to come for me baby?’’ he asked, and you nodded eagerly, unable to let out anything other than breathy moans. You felt yourself tightening around his cock, right before letting go. Your pleasure coursed through your body, filling you from head to toe. 
Travis pounded into you, still fucking you through your orgasm, as he came closer to his release. You felt his thrusts getting sloppier, wanting to help him finish, you clenched around him multiple times and that’s all it took for him to grunt and spill his loads into you, squeezing your throat one last time before letting you go. You both took a moment to catch your breath as you laid down on your bed, Travis going to the adjacent bathroom to retrieve a warm towel before coming back to clean you up. You looked at him in adoration as he took the cloth and ran it across your still sensitive area.
‘’Do you know how perfect you are?’’ you said before he looked up to meet your tired eyes. He smiled fondly at you before throwing the towel in the hamper and joining you on the bed, pulling you close so your head could lay on his chest.
‘’I’m the one who should tell you that baby. You’re amazing, thank you for everything you do.’’ he said as your eyes stared at his before pecking you on the lips as his fingers danced on your naked back. 
‘’I love you, birthday boy.’’ You stated, wrapping your arms around his waist as you hugged him closer to your body.
‘’I love you too baby’’
Taglist : @kkrenae @spencerreidisbootiful @nabiiturner @ilove-tswizzle @legit9thlunaticwarrior @evernova @kelcemenow @bellstwd @my-regrets @green-lxght
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silovsmenot · 4 days
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This or That | Artūrs Šilovs
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Request by anon...
silovs is a media darling. how about something with him and social media admin, like they're trying to get him to do a tiktok or something for the fans and he's just nervous around them
WARNINGS: None at all, as usual, it's 1000% complete fluff. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilovs x reader. NOTES: I absolutely adored this request, and I will never get tired of writing for Arty. WORD COUNT: 1306
As far as jobs go, you were pretty sure that you’d hit the jackpot. The social media admin for the Vancouver Canucks, with pretty much free reign on what you wanted to do. Your job was to get the team trending, to keep the community talking and to make the boys seem ‘real’.
These players were, for intensive purposes, celebrities in Vancouver. If they were spotted on the street, management wanted people to see them as approachable and friendly. It was a good marketing tactic, and you were rolling with it.
The team had so many young guys that it was easy for the most part — they were all ready and willing to get in front of the camera, and do stupid things for the trends. You were having a great time with it. Even some of the older guys were getting into it.
But there was one who was a little more reserved and had, until now, evaded you. You’d exchanged words in passing, you knew the other existed, but he finished training and left without word most days. He kept to himself, and while that was fine for a while, management wanted him to be included.
Artūrs Šilovs couldn’t escape the camera forever.
And today was the day that you were going to get him — you weren’t unfair, you’d find something together that he’d be willing to do. It was never your intention to make any of the guys uncomfortable.
Completely on queue, you saw his head ducking out of the changing rooms with eyes on the nearest door. But there would be no escape from the social media admin today.
“Artūrs!” You shouted, jogging up behind him with a growing smile at your lips. He turned quickly; the Vancouver cap backwards as messy strands of brown hair escaped through the hole. And, as he normally did post training, his glasses rested upon the bridge of his nose.
You’d told yourself when you got this job, no dating players, but he was cute and you could be tempted to break your own rule.
“Sorry, if you’re not busy, would you mind helping me with something?”
You phrased it carefully, knowing he was more likely to turn around and say yes if you said it was to help. And it was to help both of you. As expected, he did nod — he turned on his heels and was ready to follow you.
You both found yourselves smiling at the other, he was full of nerves as you began to walk back into the corridor and he didn’t quite know what to say to you. There were things he was thinking about saying, like how he was thankful that you had been a friendly face to him since he was called up to the Canucks, or how he would’ve liked to spend some time with you, but far from a camera.
Whatever he was thinking as you led him toward the little media room, he didn’t say any of it. Arty just followed with hands buried in his pockets, fiddling with threads with nerves and a small smile upon his lips.
He opened the door before you could reach, holding it wide open for you to enter as you’d say a quiet thank you. With the door closed, it was impossible to not focus on how nervous he so clearly was.
You simply found yourself staring at him for a brief moment, trying to find the words to say that would put his mind at ease.
“Art, I’m not going to ask you to do something that you’re not comfortable with…” You quietly said with a few short steps toward him. “I have an idea and if you’re not happy with it, we don’t do it.”
His brown eyes had been fixated with since you called him that corridor and they made no signs of wavering from you. He was uncomfortable in front of that camera, but it was just nerves with you, and he couldn’t figure out why. He’d grown used to so many people over the last few weeks in Vancouver, but you stood out. You made him smile without a word and while he knew you’d only talk to him to get him in front of that camera, he wanted you to talk to him. It was all quite confusing in his head, but pushing through it all, he’d simply nod in response to you.
A quiet, sheepish ‘okay’ coming from his lips.
And so, you began to explain your idea, and it was simple. An easy ‘this or that’, with things from Canada vs back in home of Latvia. It would take a little work to find a comparison, or as near as you could both get, but it was a way for him to reveal a little bit of home to the Canuck fanbase.
“I like the idea… Let’s do it.” Artūrs finally said as you finished your explanation, taking a moment to dramatically gasp for air after you’d talked non-stop for a couple of minutes. You couldn’t help the triumphant nod that you gave at his answer, the smile spread across your features from ear to ear. A smile that quickly caught upon his own lips.
All it took was a piece of paper, five minutes to sort the ‘this or that’ options and you were both ready. His steps were hesitant as they bought in before the green screen, the little camera now upon him.
“First one is nice and simple, your left is Rīga and your right is Vancouver — your favourite city is …?” And you paused. He’d told you that his answer was Vancouver, but he stepped to his left which caused a quiet laugh to part your lips.
He stared at you, pinkening in the cheeks, for a moment as he tried to figure out what he’d done. Once he did, he took two quick steps to his right with hands waving in apology.
“Arty, you can calm down. We’re no rush with this, just think about it and take your time.” Your voice was soft; reassuring and genuine, and it worked. He stopped staring awkwardly at the camera, and simply found your gaze yet again. And there? He felt more comfortable.
Now you had to stand directly behind the camera to make it work, but it did work from there. He kept your gaze, and with clammy hands from nerves, he made the right steps each time. Another five minutes later and you were done. It all needed throwing together for a video to post, but you had what you needed … and there was a hidden, but shared, disappointment in that. He thought about making a few more mistakes to stay longer, and you thought about asking just a few more unnecessary questions to keep him there.
Neither of you made your excuse to stay as you were both nervous. You walked him to the door of the media suite with a melancholy weight upon your shoulders, leaning against the door frame as he’d linger just beyond.
“This wasn’t too bad, was it?” You asked with a slightly teasing tone, just enough to make him smile again. And he did smile, he smiled wide and nodded his head as he removed the cap and messed at his hair with his free hand.
“It was almost fun.” He quickly said, and you felt the slight fluttering in your stomach. “Just let me know if you need me again, at any point.”
That only serve to make the fluttering more unruly. Your mouth dry in surprise as you were simply forced to nod your head. You didn’t take your eyes off him until he was nearly out of sight, and you just missed the sight of him turning back to catch a final glimpse of you.
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thebirdandthebee · 9 months
Text
Back to Sleep (18+)
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A little something to try to get back into writing - let me know what you think! 18+ only! This is not edited, so please excuse any glaring issues.
Title: Back to Sleep Ain't sorry that I woke ya. WC: 1839
“Baby, you almost done?” Jake asked from the kitchen, where he’s just finished loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. “Come on, let’s be couch potatoes,” he insists.
It’s tempting, it really is, but you’ve got so much work to get done to stay ahead of schedule. Perched at the dining room table, your hair was tossed up in a ponytail as you focused on the laptop ahead. Yes, you were first in your class in your occupational therapy program, but final exams were coming and you were gunning for the number-one spot.
“You go ahead and I’ll meet you,” you said, tipping your head back for your fiancé to plant a quick kiss on your lips.
“You’ve been studying like a maniac for weeks,” Jake pointed out, one hand gripping the back of your chair and the other braced on the corner of the dining table, “one night isn’t going to break your streak – exam isn’t for a few weeks, still.”
“I know, I promise, give me thirty minutes,” you insisted, looking up at him through your blue light glasses that you knew he loved.
“Thirty minutes,” he repeated, kissing you again.
But thirty minutes came and went, and you were still staring intently at your computer. Admittedly, Jake got swept up in Thursday Night Football, and at halftime, he shook out of it.
“Excuse me,” he called from over the back of the couch, “Where is my fiancé?” He asked. You peeled your eyes off of your study cards, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.
“Twenty more minutes!” You called back, tucking your hair behind your ear. But as twenty minutes passed once again, you found Jake dragging your chair back from the table. “Jake, please, I’m on a roll,” you whined. You barely had time to grab up your notecards before Jake lifted you from the chair to bring you over to the sofa.
“You can study from the couch if you must,” he said, only somewhat dramatically.
And that’s how the evening progressed, with you flipping through notes and Jake’s arm firmly around your shoulder as the clock ticked later and later. Soon, you were yawning and focusing more on the back of your eyelids than your flashcards.
“Jake,” you murmured, eyes still shut. “I gotta sleep,” you said, reaching over and patting him on the stomach twice. 
“I’m going to finish the game, be up in a second,” he assured. You dropped another sweet kiss on his lips before making your way upstairs, flashcards in hand. After changing into a pair of Jake’s boxer briefs and a big t-shirt, you crawled into bed, still flipping through your notes.
Jake was surprised to see you still awake when he came up to bed about forty-five minutes later. Leaving the bathroom door open, he quickly showered and brushed his teeth
“Baby, time for bed,” he gently plucked the cards out of your fingers, tossing them onto his nightstand. You groaned quietly but snuggled up to his side instead. You’d been hitting the books hard and it was finally catching up to you. Jake’s warm, vetiver skin lulled you quickly to sleep.
However, much later, during the wee hours of the night, Jake awoke to find your side of the bed empty. His eyes strained in the dark night and if he listened carefully, he could hear the soft clicking of a keyboard.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Jake muttered, wiping at his eyes as he rolled out of bed, lazily pulling his sweatpants up his hips to pull the drawstring tight. He padded down the stairs to see you yet again perched at the dining room table, the chandelier above dimmed to the lowest setting. “What are you doing?” He asked, eyes still adjusting to the light, “it’s almost three in the morning.”
You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to see your fiancé frowning at you in the soft light.
“I know, but I had a dream that I showed up for exam day and couldn’t remember the steps to the malleability scale and I woke up panicking,” you listed off. “I just thought if I could re-arrange some of these class notes into a more visual aid, it would help me remember,” you gestured to the computer, a giant yawn overtaking your face.
“Babe, it’s time for bed,” Jake said, stepping closer. You protectively splayed your hands across your notebook on the table.
“I’m not done,” you said quietly, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Jake reached over closing your laptop.
“You’re done. Bed, now,” he ordered, which gave you a little shiver, but you complied nonetheless – dragging your feet down the hall. Luckily for you, you could turn the brightness down on your phone and run through the study guide your leading MD sent out.
After tucking into bed yet again, Jake rolled over, invading your space.
“Phone,” he said, holding out his empty palm.
“Jake,” you began to protest. He tipped his chin up in a challenge. “I need it for my alarm,” you weakly argued.
“We have an alarm clock and I’ll make sure you’re up,” he reassured as you reluctantly placed your phone in his hand. Jake rolled over, his back to you as he set your phone on the side table before snuggling down into the mattress.
“M’not even tired,” you lied with a petulant tone. Jake rolled his eyes, not that you could see it. You spent the next minute being dramatic, sighing heavily and flipping all around to find a comfortable position.
“Baby, go to sleep,” Jake grumbled. You glared at his back for a moment before flopping on your back, arms crossed over your chest, staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you could remember what the study guide looked like from memory.
A few beats passed.
“I swear to god just you being awake like this is keeping me up,” Jake said with finality, rolling over to face you, a stern expression on his face.
“You could have kept sleeping if you just left me alone at the table,” you pointed out.
“You have to sleep or that pretty little brain aint’ gonna remember shit,” he countered, nearly taunting. With a huff, you turned to face away from him, lying on your hip with one knee bent up.
“M’not even tired,” you mumbled again. Ten seconds later, you jumped when you felt Jake’s full body pressing into you from behind.
“You’re not even tired, huh?” Jake asked, knowing damn well you were just being a brat.
“No,” you grumbled, trying to keep in a squeal as his stubble scraped against your neck.
“You want me to put you to sleep?” He breathed into your ear, big hand landing on your upper thigh, just below where his boxer briefs had ridden up your leg with all your tossing and turning.
“You can’t,” you replied, still feeling put off by Jake confiscating your flashcards.
“Sure I can,” he said, hips shifting so you could feel his soft erection against you.
“Bet I can get you to sleep in twenty minutes,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind your ear.
“Not even tired,” you tried not to gasp as his fingertips slipped below the stretchy band of your borrowed shorts.
“How can you be tired when you’re this wet?” He asked, swiping his fingers through your sex, making you huff.
“You know I like those boxers on you,” you muttered, embarrassed, but at least you were honest. “You’re on the clock, Hangman,” you reminded. Jake gladly cradled your clit between his two fingers, rolling them up and down against your skin. The way you almost avoided his touch by pressing your hips down into the mattress made him grin. Sometimes it was almost too easy. You frowned softly into your pillow as you felt Jake’s hand retreat from your body, but squealed as he quickly dragged the waistband of his boxers all the way down to your ankles.
Jake softly huffed as he pressed his blunt tip against your sex, jaw clenching at the resistance as he sunk in further and further. Turning him further beneath you, your front was pressed down into the mattress.
“How’s that, hmm?” He murmured in your ear. “Gonna listen to me when I tell you to go to sleep, smart girl?” You simply whined gently at the feeling as he filled you. “You hear me?” He asked, knowing he was being haughty.
“Yeah,” you whispered, pushing your hips back against him. Jake reached underneath you, palming your breast in his hand as he continued to fuck you gently down into the mattress. “Jake,” you huffed softly.
“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed patronizingly. “Put you right back to sleep tonight,” he snapped his hips, making you jump. His hand traveled down your stomach, the other braced against the bed so he didn’t squish you entirely, to find your clit again, and gently circling it.
You could feel it start to tickle at the soles of your feet – a telltale sign of impending orgasm.
“More,” you murmured, eyes shutting gently both from pleasure and pure exhaustion.
“More?” Jake asked, pulling his hand out from between your body and the mattress, dipping his fingers in his mouth as his hips continued their steady thrusts. Zeroing in on your clit once more, he knew you were getting close – after this long together, he could read you like a book. He didn’t mind, he was close as well. “Going to fill you right up with a sleeping pill,” he didn’t care that he sounded corny, he was putting his money where his mouth was. One more strategic roll of his fingers and you were fluttering around Jake’s cock, toes curled tight at the end of the bed.
“There we go,” Jake grunted, meeting his own orgasm as he pumped into you dutifully. “That’s a good girl,” he exhaled.
You hated it when Jake was right, because now, your eyelids felt like they were being weight down with bags of cement. Whining once more as he withdrew, you jumped when he tapped the head of his spent cock against your clit.
“Wait right here, precious,” he said, pressing a kiss to the round of your hip.
As if you were going anywhere now. Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you knew an alarm was set for the morning, because now you simply couldn’t be bothered to lift your head from the pillow.
“Warmed it up for you, baby,” Jake murmured as a warning before a wet washcloth swiped through your folds. “I know, I know,” he hushed. Jake wiped himself down before padding across the room to drop the towel in the laundry hamper.
Crawling back onto the mattress, he threw a blanket over the two of you, double checking his alarm once more before tossing an arm over your waist. Your lashes laid across your cheekbones in pure serenity as you entered deep sleep.
“Thought you weren’t tired, huh?”
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clockwayswrites · 9 months
Text
You all don't see this. Nope. Didn't write it.
WC: 1284, Masterpost CW: visit to a leath kink shop, mentions of sex work
Paulina held up her hand, looking at her freshly painted nails. “You, Nickie, are a goddess and an artist.”
“I know,” Nickie said smugly.
“Like, seriously, you could make bank,” Paulina said. She pulled out her cellphone to snap a photo. The crystals in the center of the flowers that frame the sugar skull flashed beautifully.
Nickie gave a little shrug. The muscle tank she worn slipped off her tan shoulder, revealing more of the over the top, bright red bra. “Considering it for after. Right now sex pays well, I got the body for it—”
“Hell yeah you do,” Paulina agreed.
“—and it let’s me look after my girls. But I might be putting money aside for a shop front, yeah.”
“When you open I will let anyone I know in the area to come to you,” Paulina said. “And come myself if I’m still haunting Metropolis. Got to visit my boo Danny.”
“Someone has to come keep him in line.”
“Hey!” Danny protested from where he was carefully painting Han’s nails a blinding magenta. He did just fine with himself these days.
“He’s mixed up with a bad crowed,” Nickie continued, completely ignoring Danny, “just like Han here.”
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” Han protested meekly.
Paulina flipped her hair. “Who do you think helped him get his bad crowd? Danny can’t dress himself worth shit.”
“I know,” Nickie said with a sigh. “I remember what he was wearing when he moved in.”
“Again- hey!”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t love your new gets.”
“That is true, I look amazing,” Danny said. He struck a pose as best as he could while sitting at a coffee table with nail polish in hand. He felt his bootleg Red Hood crop top ride up with the act, exposing a sliver of skin between it and his black joggers. “But I hate you for getting me hooked on lululemon, it’s stupidly pricey.”
“Good thing you have two sugar daddies then, ain’t it honey,” Nickie pointed out.
“Blessed life,” Danny said, finishing off the magenta polish with a flourish. He capped it before he started with the other hand to carefully remove the tape. His tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth as he focused.
“You should get them something nice.”
Danny snorted. “What, with their own money?”
“Sure,” Nickie said, starting to clean up. “Doesn’t matter who’s dough bought it if it’s good fun for everyone.”
Danny paused in his work of revealing the highlighter yellow polish under the tape to look over to Nickie. “What? I don’t— ooh.”
Paulina just laughed at him, of course. Even Han chuckled which was frankly a little insulting.
Danny cleared his throat. “I, um, do you think they’d… like that?”
“Honey, I’ve seen how they are with you. Doesn’t have to be nothing cray either. You can start simple, just a little accessory.”
“Huh.”
“I, uh,” Han said, nervously, drawing everyone’s attention. “I know a place?”
At least Danny was able to follow how they ended up standing in a leather centric kink shop, even if it felt like a bizarre turn for his life to take. He looked at the harness wearing mannequin he was standing in front of and tilted his head.
“Who has the patience to get into that?”
“Well,” drawled the shopkeep who had appeared next to Danny so suddenly he was half tempted to think the other was a ghost, “for some people, getting their partner into the harness is half of the fun. The obedience, the touches, the control… the denial.”
Danny swallowed heavily. Huh.
“Hello my darling, bring in some friends?” the shopkeep asked and swanned over to kiss a blushing Han.
“I’m not sure what they are,” Han said with a weary sigh. They let the other pick up their hand and examine their bright nails. “But Danny here was thinking of picking up something on the… introductory side to treat his boyfriends with.”
“Oh well we can certainly help with that. I’m Liam, Han’s boyfriend,” the shopkeep said, holding out his hand.
Danny shook the hand. “Danny, like Han said.”
“He’s dating the Boss and the Boss’ boy,” Han explained.
“They’re his sugar daddies,” Paulina pipped in.
“And damn adorable,” Nickie said.
Danny released Liam’s hand to bury his face in his hands. “I hate you all.”
“No you don’t,” Paulina said. “Now, what do you have in mind for the blushing boy, Liam?”
“Well that’s something for him and I to talk about,” Liam said. He put an arm around Danny’s shoulder (though was really barely touching him) and guided him away. Over his shoulder he called, “Show them around, Han!”
When they had space and a tall display between them and the other’s, Liam stopped. “Now, best way for me to get you something good is for you to be honest with me. I promise, nothing you say to me is going to be something I haven’t heard before. I’m not going to judge you. You and your boys ever done anything like this before?”
Danny shook his head.
“So you’ve had sex but it’s been mostly vanilla?”
“Yep,” Danny said, the word coming out as a strangled squeak. He cleared his throat. “I mean, Red Hood keeps his helmet on so that’s not really… usual. We haven’t done much, in any combo.”
“But you like this idea?” Liam asked, motioning around them, “Or did they just bully you into coming? Because if that’s the case I can find you something cheap to buy you won’t feel bad about throwing away or you can come back and return it in a few days provided you keep it in it’s packaging.”
“I, um,” Danny picked at the edge of his hoodie as he glanced around the store from under his bangs. What Liam had said about the harness came back to mind. “Sometimes, like, not in bed, Jason will tell me to ‘stay’. And, um…”
“That does things for you.”
Danny nodded, feeling mortified.
“Not that odd at all. Now, there are a few ways we could go,” Liam said and started walking again. “Handcuffs and restraints are one way. Or rope, it’s an art form so one of your boys would have to be interested in learning, but it can be something special. Or, I think maybe for you… this is where we should start.”
They had stopped in front of a display of collars and leashes. There were more types than Danny could have ever dreampt up. There was leather of all colors and patterns. There were plain black and brown collars and bright colors with poppy cutouts and rich jewel tones with detailed filigree and earth tones with geometrics. They were lined with suede and velvet and fur. Danny itched to reach out and touch them.
“Yes, I do think we’re in the right area. Go ahead, you can touch. If nothing here works for you, you could always custom order something instead.”
Danny reached out and ran his fingers over one of the collars, thinking. If this was Red Hood, Danny would have to go custom order red and black. But really this was for Jason. Danny lingered on one that was lined in turquoise suede. The leather was a bold rust and turquoise patina on a delicate, detailed circle and diamond pattern. Brass circles studded across the pattern.
“You know, I think we have a leash that will match that one beautifully. Should we ring you up?”
-
When Jason walked in a few days later to find Danny sitting on his kitchen counter, swamped in one of Jason’s large shirts, and wearing the collar he nearly swallowed his tongue.
---
AN: So this is a thing that I've now written! Loved the response to the tease I post last night~ Danny has gotten ideas and Jason is gobsmacked. Don't worry, I'm sure he bought something for 'Red Hood' too. ^_~ (Collar 100% inspired by one of Big Cat Den Crafts)
I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the mastpost.
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anashins · 4 months
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Perhaps a Jaehyun fic where you’re either on your thesis or work and are pulling all nighters to meet your deadlines and avoid telling him cos you know he gets mad (even though idol Jaehyun does it too) so when he finds out (it could be bc you either passed out from exhaustion and maybe we get a hospital scene or since you hadn’t slept it slipped out of you? English is not my first language and I’m currently sleep deprived bc of my thesis work so sorry for any grammatical error 😭) he forces u to go to sleep but it’s really cute cos he’s also tired and you get some rest together
Pairing: Jaehyun x You
Genre: fluff, romance
Word Count: 1.2k
Summary: While being in the hospital, you find out Jaehyun can braid hair. Every day, you learn something new about this man.
A/N: I tried to combine all of them! I hope you like it - and good luck on your thesis, you can do it 🤍🤍🤍
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“I have to write my thesis!”, was your first thought upon waking up. 
But the ceiling you were staring at didn’t look like your ceiling at home, you couldn’t recognize the color of the walls, and the sparse furniture didn’t belong in your room either.
What looked familiar to you though, as your gaze wandered further, was a figure next to you, sitting by the bedside. The dark hair, the worried expression, the warm hand holding your limp one… that was your boyfriend, giving you comfort in a cold room that seemed like it was located in a hospital.
“You’re awake!” Jaehyun exclaimed.
Realization of your last night at home seeped in. You hadn’t eaten or drunk something in… you couldn’t remember. You wanted it to be two days since your last meal and rest, but your admission into the hospital, arm physically attached to an infusion, indicated otherwise. 
“What happened?” you asked groggily.
Jaehyun took a cup with a straw from the nightstand and led it to your mouth. “How do you feel?”
“Tired somehow,” you sighed, opening your mouth. The water tasted unexpectedly delicious, just what you had needed. “And anxious.”
“I found you last night, passed out on the floor,” your boyfriend explained and put the cup back on the nightstand, then seated himself next to you onto the mattress. “You seemed like you hadn’t eaten anything in days let alone slept for more than two hours a night, so I brought you here directly. I was so worried.”
He had dark circles under his eyes, seemingly not having slept this entire time either, ever since he had brought you here. “Jaehyun…” 
You reached out to him and touched the side of his face. He smiled meekly. “I’m just so relieved you’re better now. I was so afraid when I saw you there, unmoving in your room. I didn’t know what to do, I thought I lost you.”
“I’m sorry.” Your hand dropped and covered the back of his that he had rested on your thigh. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time, forgot to eat and there is still so much to do. I actually don’t have time to rest, I have to hand in my thesis in a week.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Jaehyun chided. “It’s only morning and the doctor will check up on you this evening before he can discharge you. Until then, you’re going to rest.”
“But-” you were about to retort, but he cut you off immediately.
“No buts. You’re not going to work on your thesis now or even think about it. And when you return home this evening, I will move in with you for this week.”
You blinked in confusion. “What?”
“I will cook for you, make sure you’re always healthy and hydrated and get enough sleep. This is not going to happen again, I’ll make sure of that. Let me take care of you when you can’t.”
You had already opened your mouth, but Jaehyun sounded so determined that you didn’t want to disagree with him. Apart from this, it sounded nice to have someone taking care of you when you weren’t able to.
“Okay.”
Living with him for an entire week until you finished your thesis didn’t sound so bad either. Very tempting even, truth to be told.
Your boyfriend then placed a bag next to you. “Don’t get your hopes up, it’s not your university materials.” Instead, he pulled out wired headphones, your favorite fantasy book, eye patches and a hairbrush. “We are going to do some selfcare while you’re here.”
You let Jaehyun put the eye patches on your face, the coolness directly having an effect on your tired skin. Then, he offered, “Here, let me brush your hair. I know you always take good care of it.”
You shifted to the side and pulled your hair back over your shoulder. Jaehyun let the brush slide over your strands, but some had already gotten light knots overnight. He took care of them by holding your hair close to the roots and detangling the ends carefully, so that they fell softly over your neck again. 
Meanwhile, you took the book into your hands and began reading out to your boyfriend. You always talked about this book and had probably read it eight times already, but you never got enough of it, and Jaehyun had always been patient to listen to your opinions and rants, even if he had heard time a thousand times already.
“Should I braid your hair?” he then asked after he had finished brushing. “So while you’re lying down, it’s not gonna tangle again, otherwise I will spend the entire day combing your hair.”
You tilted your head. “You know how to braid?”
“Yeah, thanks to my little cousins.” You then felt his fingers sectioning your hair into three parts. “It’s not gonna be a fancy french braid, but I’ll give it my best. I even brought a hair tie.” Every day, you learned something new about this man. “Now, continue reading. I want to know whether Feyre will pass the second trial.”
He knew the answer to it. He knew the ending of the book and the entire series already, because you talked about it so often, but he also knew how much you loved doing so, which was why he always acted so clueless and let you speak your opinion.
You loved this man so much.
So you continued reading out to Jaehyun while he gently braided your hair. You felt the tips of the strands brushing over your neck and shoulders, laying on your back and swirling around. It took your boyfriend three attempts for the perfect beginning and he sometimes stopped halfway through to open the braid again, because he wasn’t satisfied. One time, he had even reached the end already, but then let out a sigh, seemingly dissatisfied with his work, and started all over again.
He was so focused, breathing regularly with much concentration, so that you weren’t sure whether he was actually still listening to you. But you didn’t care and instead enjoyed this chaste moment between you two.
“Finished,” Jaehyun then declared and put on the pink scrunchie to fix the braid’s end. 
You tenderly touched the tips below the scrunchie. “There is no mirror, but I feel pretty.”
“That’s because you are.”
Jaehyun kissed your cheek and then removed the eye patches from your face. 
“Come here.” You closed the book, placed it on the nightstand and took the wired headphones before shifting to the far end of the small hospital bed. “Lie down.”
“I’m so tall and the bed is so small, you won’t have enough space. It’s fine.”
“Don’t worry, it will work. Come here.”
You let your boyfriend lie down next to you and rested your head on his chest. One earphone, you put on yourself and gave the other to Jaehyun who then linked it to his phone and started playing music. 
You then lied there together, not talking, just listening to his favorite songs and enjoying each other’s company.
Not much later, you heard Jaehyun snoring lightly, and smiled. He had taken care of you the entire night, he deserved this rest, and so you let him.
Yes, it was nice having someone taking care of you when you couldn’t take care of yourself. You would make sure to always do the same for him when you were able to.
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sansaorgana · 3 months
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Can you write a cute one with a bit of smut (if you're comfortable with that obviously) with Buck and female reader where he sneaks her into his room when he knows all the others are away?
hi, love! 😍 I loved the idea of sneaking in and it starts smutty indeed but the ending is spoiled by Bucky 🤣 sorry not sorry, I tend to imagine Reader's life with these two like it's a sitcom sometimes 😁
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
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Buck was the only guy who didn’t go out to the pub in town on Friday night. The boys had a whole weekend off and almost all of them decided to celebrate by going to the local town and flirting with the girls while getting drunk. Buck was not a drinker and he already had his girl on the base with him.
“If you stay here like a loser,” Bucky teased him before walking out, “then at least sneak her in here and have some good time, too,” he winked as some man behind him whistled and Buck sighed. “You don’t want to sleep here alone, do you?”
“Get out already,” Buck pushed him out and watched the rest of the boys disappear. He shook his head to himself but the truth was that he found the idea tempting indeed.
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“Oh, you stayed?” You asked Buck, surprised to see him alone by the table during dinnertime. “I thought you’d go out with the boys,” you chuckled and took a seat next to him.
“I’d get bored there,” he admitted and you tilted your head to take a better look at him because he sounded like he was crazy. He smiled at you.
“You’re adorable, Gale,” you told him and you fixed his hair a little. His friends were not there to tease him about it and your friends had already known about you two anyway. Women’s gossip travelled faster than any plane. “But you don’t have to miss out on parties. I wouldn’t mind you going out,” you told him.
“I really didn’t want to go,” he assured you. “But you know… I have a whole room for myself tonight.”
You took the hand away and focused on the plate in front of you. You had to admit, you got a little shy at his insinuation. You had been sort of dating for a few weeks now but you had never had a time completely alone for yourselves. Not like that, at least. Of course there had been a few heated kisses in the dark corners here and there. But not much more than that.
“I’m so sorry…” Buck blushed. “God, I’m sorry… Forget about it… Doll, can we pretend I’ve never said that?” He put his hand on your thigh and you moved it away. He looked even more scared and awkward now.
“No, we can’t pretend,” you told him and dared to lay your eyes on him again. “Because I don’t want to pretend you haven’t said that. I think we can do it,” you nodded your head nervously.
Yes, yes, your mother wouldn’t be proud of you at that moment but for God’s sake you wanted something from this life, too, and that man could go down any day.
You loved him, too.
Buck furrowed his brows and then he gave you a wide smile as he finally realised that you had just agreed to spend the night with him.
“I will tell my friends that I have to work late. So they will go to sleep before I join them without knowing when exactly I’ll be back. I’ll tell Colonel Harding I’ll help him with the papers…” you started.
“No, no, he will keep you there until morning,” Buck shook his head.
“No, he won’t be there.”
“But he will realise you weren’t working if the papers aren’t ready tomorrow,” Buck pointed out.
“You silly, I have already finished them,” you rolled your eyes. “I always do more than I tell him so I can have free time here and there. And then I pretend I’ve just done it although it was already done a few days before. He’s been played like that many times by me,” you chuckled.
“You cunning little angel,” Buck pinched your thigh under the table and you giggled. “Let’s meet at eleven by the bathroom.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased him.
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Your heart was pounding in your chest as you were walking down the dark corridor. You were wearing nothing but a coat over your nightgown and now you regretted it. You wanted to surprise Buck but you were cold and you started to feel like an idiot, too. What if he would find it funny… or not ladylike…?
You almost decided to turn around and change before going back when you felt someone grabbing your arm and pulling you. You squealed but your lips got covered by a familiar hand.
“Shh, little one,” Buck whispered into your ear. “I’ve heard your footsteps,” he told you and removed the hand from your mouth.
“You scared me, Buck!” You whispered.
“I’m sorry, doll. Now, come with me,” he held your hand and guided you further into the corridor. You couldn’t go back to put more clothes on. You took a deep breath in and followed him.
Buck pushed the door leading to the room where the men had been sleeping, making sure to be as quiet as possible. You were alone there but someone could be walking outside. He closed the door behind you and led you to his bed.
When you were finally there, he turned on the small lamp which light was dim and wouldn’t alarm anyone walking by. After all, it was a free weekend and he was able to stay up late reading a book or something.
Then he turned around and took a look at you. He was wearing a T-shirt and pants and he smiled gently as noticed your nervousness.
“We don’t have to… do anything. We can just spend time together,” he told you and sat down on his bed. “What would you like to do?”
“I’m cold,” you admitted.
“Well, then, come here,” he invited you and you bit on your lower lip before gaining the courage to finally open your coat and let it fall to the floor.
Buck’s eyes widened as he looked up at you wearing nothing but a nightgown. He swallowed thickly as his lips opened slightly. The white nightgown looked perfect on your body in the dim light of his lamp and your nipples were hard and perky from the cold. He reached out for you as if he tried to find out if you were real.
“Can you warm me up, Major?” You teased as you crawled up on the bed to curl yourself in his arms.
“I sure can try,” Buck kissed your temple and reached out for the blanket to put it around you. You laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat as your fingers started to make circles on his stomach. “Are you warmer now, love?” He looked down to see your face.
“Yes,” you whispered. “I haven’t felt so warm and safe in a long while,” you admitted.
“War is no place for a sweetheart like you,” he said and rubbed your back.
“But war is here anyway. War is in my country, it’s in my world. I can’t escape it. And here I can at least… do something,” you looked up to meet the gaze of his beautiful blue eyes. “It has nothing to do with courage, you know. If we get bombed and I die here, not many people will be sad. You don’t find wives and mothers here.”
“I will certainly be sad,” Buck put his finger on your lips to caress them gently. “Let’s not talk about it tonight.”
You nodded your head and let his fingertips trace the corners of your mouth. You opened your lips slightly and he froze for a while, trying to read on your face if you wanted what he had thought that you wanted. Eventually, you gave him a slight nod and he slowly put his fingers inside your mouth.
You sucked on them and looked up to give him doe eyes. His pupils darkened and you smirked at the sight. You felt his muscles tightening, too.
You raised your hands to grab his wrist and pull his fingers out of your mouth.
“Do you want to touch me?” You asked.
“Yes, please,” he nodded and you giggled at how well-mannered he was.
You guided both of his hands on your breasts and you leaned back to get in a more comfortable position for you to rest and for him to grope you.
His long fingers worked on the bow on your chest and when the ribbons went loose, the nightgown opened, exposing your bare breasts for him to touch gently. You moaned at the sensation and he shushed you before burying his face in your neck to place small kisses and suck on your skin.
His hands were warm and big and he was using them so gently. His goal was not to play with your breasts mindlessly, but to fondle them and explore every inch of the exposed skin. You didn’t feel like a piece of meat, you felt like a sculpture being admired by an artist. And it was making you feel warm and wet between your legs, too. You began to slowly rub your thighs together to get some friction.
Buck moved his head up to place kisses on your jaw now and you reached back to caress his hair and pull him closer.
You wanted to ask him to touch you down there but you felt too shy to do that. You let out a whine instead.
“What is it, little one?” Buck hummed and laid his eyes on your face. He wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked at him, pleadingly. At first he was confused but then he looked down and noticed your crossed thighs. “Do you want me to touch you there, darling?” He asked and you nodded shyly, feeling your cheeks heating up. “Alright then,” he kissed your forehead. “Come here,” he helped you to move down in his arms so you both were laying down now.
You pulled your nightgown up – shyly but eagerly, too. And this time the eagerness won with the shyness. You felt as if you were about to explode at any given moment. You had no privacy on this base until now so you couldn’t remember the last time you would touch yourself. And having Major Buck Cleven touching you was enough to set your whole body on fire.
Buck raised your thigh gently and put it over his waist to get a better access to you and he carefully touched your clit for the first time. He was visibly surprised at how swollen and wet you already were.
You let out a moan and tugged on his shirt.
“Buck…”
“What’s wrong, doll?” He stopped all the movement to make sure you were alright.
“I don’t want to have sex,” you admitted shyly and he furrowed his brows. “You can touch me but I don’t want to… I don’t want to go further. Not yet,” you told him. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” he shook his head and kissed the top of yours. “Don’t be, little one.”
“I can touch you, too,” you proposed.
“Only if you feel like it,” he said.
“I do,” you assured him. “You can go back to touching me,” you added with a whine and he chuckled before letting his fingertips brush your clit gently.
God, he was a tease.
You focused on the bulge in his pants instead and you decided to tease, too. It was only fair. So you started with caressing it through the material of his pants, focusing on the tip for a while and then going all the way up. In the meantime, you were losing focus a few times from all the sensations he was making you feel between your legs.
“If you keep doing it like this, darling, I’m going to finish in my pants,” Buck chuckled.
“Really?” You looked up with a smile. “I want to see.”
“Oh, you’re naughty,” he shook his head and you felt a light slap on your pussy that made you widen your eyes. It was both slightly painful and incredibly pleasurable.
“Oh, so are you, Major,” you breathed out.
“You like that?” He asked and slapped you again as you whined. “You do.”
You both chuckled and leaned in for a kiss as your hands went back to rubbing and teasing. You were so lost in each other, you didn’t hear someone walking inside.
It was the loud bang of the door that made you jump up on the bed. You grabbed the blanket to cover yourself, absolutely terrified.
Thankfully, it was only Bucky. And he was completely drunk.
“Good evenin’,” he slurred out with a smirk, barely standing on his feet.
“What are you doing here?!” Buck snapped at him.
“Don’t mind me, I don’t have any idea what’s going on around me,” he admitted. “I think I wanted to start a fight, they threw me out. Some nice girl from the town gave me a ride home… To the base, I mean… So yeah… I’m banned from that pub,” he laid on his bed and started snoring half a minute later.
“I’ve never seen anyone falling asleep so fast!” You gasped.
“That’s Bucky for you,” Buck sighed.
“What now?” You asked.
“Well, he’s asleep…”
“No,” you interrupted him. “I can stay here for the night but I will not… No, it’s out of question,” you shook your head.
“Fine,” Buck sighed and left the bed. “Give me a moment, I need to go to the bathroom and cool down.”
“Yeah, okay,” you nodded your head and watched him walk away as you worked on your nightgown to tie the ribbons again in a bow.
When you were finished with that, you stood up and began turning Bucky around.
“What are you doing?” Buck asked you as he had just come back.
“He won’t snore so much this way and he won’t choke on his own vomit either,” you told him. “Help me, will you? He’s quite heavy.”
Buck helped you with that and he covered his friend with his blanket, too.
“It’s like tucking a kid to bed,” you giggled.
“Perhaps not the last time for us if we’re lucky,” Buck looked at you and your cheeks went hot at his words.
“Perhaps not…” you chuckled and extended your hands to take him back to bed and cuddle for the rest of the night.
Cuddling was nice, too.
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MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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