#i want to say MORE but this is already long enough hahah

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 ALL THINGS END

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: all of dazai's carefully calculated plans come to an abrupt halt when you run into him at a club. he thinks fate is a funny thing, that despite all of his desperate attempts to stay away from you, it still leads you right to him. one night, he decides, is all he'll allow. one night of indulgence, and then things will go back to how they were. that's how it has to be to keep you safe. {wordcount: 11.8k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: wow we're starting side b—side b can be read separately from side a but you’ll get some neat references if you read both (｡♡ ‿ ♡｡). i'm so nervous actually HAHAH i put my heart and soul into side b and trying to characterize beast!dazai properly. it was really hard because the majority of the fic is from his pov and getting into his mind is a lotttt harder than canonzai imo. anyway, reblogs are always appreciated! thank you guys & i hope you guys love this as much as i enjoyed writing it

GENERAL WARNINGS: dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book, it's going to be a common theme throughout the series so i'll leave the heads up now. + as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings!

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

Dazai Osamu thinks that his touch might be noxious, indiscriminately rotting all he comes in contact with until only putrid remains are left of what had once been lively souls. His gaze drags across his fingers from where they’re splayed on top of the table, absently tapping out a familiar name over and over again, the only thing grounding him to the meeting taking place around him in one of the second-floor VIP rooms of the Port Mafia’s most elite nightclub. If he looks hard enough, he swears he can see that the tips of his fingers are blackened, ready to lay the curse of decay upon the next person he brushes them against. 

He can feel eyes on him—the impatient glares from the foreign emissaries and the tense stares of his executives, as they wait for him to respond to the offer, laid out to him by the top brass of the Russian kingpin called Nabokov, an old ally of the Port Mafia courtesy of the previous boss. Dazai was already annoyed coming into this meeting, thinking that the Russians were presumptuous for assuming that the Port Mafia should come to their defense in the three-way territorial war going on in their motherland, but the fact that Nabokov couldn’t even bother to come speak to him himself after Dazai’s executives insisted that he be the one to personally handle this only made him even more bitter and irate. He hates having to leave the headquarters.

He takes a long drag from the cigarette hanging between his lips, lifting his free hand to pull the end from his mouth before putting it out on the table in front of him. The buzz of the nicotine isn’t enough to keep him present anymore. He keeps tapping, steady and controlled, the same bunch of letters again and again—everything around himself feels hazy and blurry. The only thing clear that he can focus on is the uniform drumming of his fingers, his voice doesn’t even sound like his own as he speaks: 

“Why should I even entertain your offer when Nabokov couldn’t bring it to me himself?” 

The first words that he speaks during the entire meeting are cold and harsh, as they should be in response to the disrespect shown by the Pale Flame, but Dazai just wants to be done with this and return to the base before anything can go wrong. His executives are vaguely pleased by his words, evidently taking more offense to Nabokov’s failure to show than Dazai himself does, and the three emissaries of the Pale Flame bristle, sharing looks as they try to figure out what to say in response to Dazai’s remark. Dazai doesn’t even care to hear what they have to say, lost in his thoughts as he glances up at the ceiling. 

He thinks that if his touch isn’t entirely noxious, as there have been a few people who haven’t faced ruin after being exposed to it, then his presence makes up for it in its draining effect. The black hole in his chest is just as indiscriminate as the corroding touch of his fingers, emptying people of hope and exhausting them of energy. A part of Dazai mourns over the fact that those who can survive his touch are drained by the void—(chuuya. atsushi. their names weigh heavy on him, knowing that he’s dragged them so far down with him in this life)—while those who can withstand the void are inevitably killed because of their proximity to him—(you, odasaku, your names ring through his head, cruel and taunting. he pushes away the longing that rips at his chest, as he always does.)

His fate is to be alone, a cruel design drawn out by whatever sadistic gods reign above.

In every universe, it’s proven to be true. Even in this one, he can’t spare people from the effects of his existence. Atsushi, Kyouka, Chuuya—as years have passed their eyes have become dull and their souls have become as black as the blood that he forcibly injected into their veins. He considers whether or not he might just be better off dead, that way he can give those who have been the most affected by him, in this life and all of the others, a much-needed reprieve from him. But he can’t, not when he’s unsure over whether or not those who’ve been condemned by his touch will actually survive if it means he’s gone. 

“... okov sends all of his reg…”

The tapping becomes a bit harsher, faster. If he was writing out the name rather than tapping it, the script would be jagged and unclear. His surroundings start to fade out again, Nabokov’s executives are speaking but the words are going in one ear, out the other. His head feels fuzzy and his free hand is starting to go numb.

Odasaku. You. He’s sure that there are plenty of others, but you two are the only ones that matter to him. He doesn’t know if killing himself would mean that the two of you could live out your lives to the fullest. You could both die anyway, for all he knows, and then he would’ve died for nothing and he can’t risk that, not when this is the only universe where he’s aware of the fate that you and Odasaku face in every other world.

He can work to protect the two of you in this world; he’ll do what must be done from the shadows to ensure that you and Odasaku can finally fulfill your dreams. A life without you, and a life without Odasaku, is a small price to pay if it means that you two can actually live out your lives. You’ve granted him enough good memories from every single other universe that the least you guys deserve is one without his presence bringing you ruin. 

“... the previous b…”

Sometimes, he longs so badly for a life with the two of you that it makes him sick. A world in which Odasaku lives and Dazai can be with you, a world where he’s untouched by the shadows and the tarry substance corrupting his blood. He thinks that Odasaku would adore you if he’d ever been given the chance to meet you—you both have a similar dry humor and an intrinsic desire to help people, even those who decidedly don’t deserve it. On nights that are a bit too dark and a bit too heavy, Dazai imagines dragging you to Odasaku’s place so he can introduce you to him and he imagines how his face would flame up in embarrassment when Odasaku tells you all of the humiliating stories of Dazai’s youth that he knows the man has stocked up. 

Moments like this, when everything feels a bit too far away and his mind can’t connect to the present, lost in the pages of all of the other worlds he’d seen, he swears that he can feel the ghost of your touch running across his skin as you trace patterns along his arms and brush kisses against his jaw. He thinks it’s cruel that his mind tortures him with the unattainable; taunts him with the knowledge that the only person he’s ever entirely given himself to, and was accepted by, is out there waiting for him, but the moment Dazai gives in to the aching in his chest, it’ll be ripped away from him again. 

“… disorder in the motherl…”

He can’t feel his left arm, and that awful numbness is starting to spread across his chest to his right arm; with nothing left to consume, the black hole in his chest is devouring him again. Now is not the time, not when his executives are around, and especially not when outsiders are around. He taps more intensely—your name, over and over and over again, the only thing that can ever pull him out of these states. It’s the reminder that you’re out there, alive, and that even if it’s not in this world, you love him in every single other one, no matter how absurd the idea is. 

“... will not be contained to…”

He needs to focus. He knows what the Pale Flame emissaries are saying even if Dazai can’t actually hear and process the full conversation—whatever is happening in Russia will spread, and it will spread to Japan, certainly, if Dostoevsky comes out on top. This conflict never occurred in the other universes and Dazai doesn’t know what exactly he did in this one that caused this change. Figuring it out and adapting needs to be his first priority because Dostoevsky’s arrival in Yokohama will put everything he’s built at risk. 

It will put you at risk. 

How many times have you died at his hand? Too many. Too many for him to risk this. 

He was able to handle Odasaku’s fate years ago when he got ahold of that painting and convinced him to join the Armed Detective Agency. Odasaku’s fate was easy in comparison to yours, that painting and the Port Mafia have been the cause of his death, removing them from the equation will be enough to keep him safe until Dazai follows through with the final phase of his plan. 

Your fate is always more arbitrary—Fyodor Dostoevsky will be the first trial he has to overcome to ensure your survival and then depending on how things play out after that, Agatha Christie will be the second trial. They’re the two leading causes of your death besides Dazai himself. Once the two of them have been taken care of, Dazai can move on to Phase Three, the beginning of the end.

The darker part of him, the one that has festered and corrupted and spread to every inch of his soul without the light you and Odasaku had brought to him in all of his other lives, wonders if he should have you kidnapped and tucked away until he can make sure that Dostoevsky is six-feet-under and unable to disrupt the world he’s built for you and Odasaku. Unlike Osasaku, you have no ability to protect yourself with if everything starts falling apart. You’ll be the most vulnerable, the most at risk. 

But he knows he can’t for the same reason that he knows he’ll never be able to approach you in the same way he did Odasaku so many years before: Dazai has never had any sort of self-control when it comes to you and he doubts it’ll be any different in this universe. Even when he knows you’re better off, even when he knows that each second he spends in your life is slowly destroying you, he can never bring himself to part from you. He fears that even the slightest look of you will condemn him and all of the work he’s done, that even just the knowledge of where you are will tempt him into wandering the area in hopes of running into you.

He’s done everything he can to ensure that he never has any contact with you or any information about your life. He assigned Kouyou to look over you, being the best suited for such types of missions. She’s spent years making sure that you’re safe and nothing from the underground disturbs your studies or everyday life. The woman was naturally curious about the request, even more so when Dazai instructed her to never give him any updates on you unless it was a life-or-death situation, but she knew better than to question him. 

At this point, only the hand of god and sheer chance could lead him to you, which is why he’s particularly against meetings like these where he’s forced to leave the shadows of his towers and dally into the public. Dazai doesn’t beg, and he certainly doesn’t pray, but whenever he has to leave the Port Mafia base for extended periods, he gets damn close to it because each moment in the light risks everything. 

“... oevsky and Tolstoy…”

The ice spreads to the wrist of his right arm and just as Dazai thinks he’s about to be fully swallowed by the void, his gaze drifts to the window looking down on the main floor of the club and he catches sight of a figure leaning on the bar, and it’s ludicrous, really, because how does his gaze tunnel on one person in the sea of hundreds before him. But his mouth goes dry and his body stills as recognition floods through him, replacing the numbness so quickly that his body is almost palpitating in the sudden shock of it. Flames burn through his veins and the fingers that had been steadily tapping out your name jerk so abruptly that Chuuya, Kouyou, and Gin are all casting him hesitant looks. 

He rises to his feet suddenly, ignoring the fact that all eyes are on him and that he’s completely disregarded whatever the Pale Flame emissaries had been explaining. He waves Gin off as the girl instinctively moves to follow him, the room is spinning and closing in on him so swiftly that he doesn’t even think he’ll be able to make it out of the room before his mind and body collapse in on themselves. 

If there is a god, Dazai realizes, then he’s abandoned Dazai since the moment he was born, because standing there with glittering eyes and a smile so painstakingly familiar and foreign at the same time is you. 

There’s a hazy smile on your face as you stumble out of the main room of the club, and down a side hall toward where you’re pretty sure the restrooms should be. You lean against the wall as you try to regain your bearings, inhaling the air greedily—you hadn’t realized how deprived of it you’d been in the stuffy club, where there were more bodies than pockets of air, and even those were smogged with thick, floral perfume and sweat.

You think you’re having a good night—for the most part, at least. You and your coworkers have been at the club for an hour already celebrating your acceptance into Waseda’s prestigious graduate program. You’d been pressured into inviting one of your more unsavory coworkers, having been told you would seem rude and ill-mannered if you invited everyone else except him. You think now that it really shouldn’t have mattered to you, you’re leaving the office soon to prepare for school anyway, but you suppose you’re easily peer pressured. Sometimes. 

But you’re free now, momentarily, at least. One of your friends had distracted Takeda so could sneak off to the restroom to freshen up. God knows he probably would’ve tried to follow you there if he didn’t.

You push yourself off the wall with a sigh, wishing that you’d tied your hair back before coming to the club because you can feel it sticking to the back of your neck. Maybe you’ll run into a girl in the bathroom who has a spare tie for you, but you frown as you look around, noticing that the hallway is a bit too empty for it to lead to one of the club’s restrooms.

You pout when you realize that you must’ve gone down one of the halls leading to the VIP suites on the second level, but as you turn to make your way back into the main area of the club, your eyes catch a figure leaning against the wall dressed in a long black coat and sleek dark suit that probably costs more than your life savings. 

He’s tall, you note absently, drawn to the man a bit more than you probably should be for no good reason, handsome, too. He hasn’t noticed you standing there, so you just observe for a moment—he has dark hair and smooth, pale skin, partially covered beneath bandages. He’s struggling to light a cigarette, frustration twisting his face; his lighter won’t light no matter how many times he tries, and you think it’s a bit funny that for all of the expensive clothes he wears, his lighter won’t work. 

Finally, you take a few steps forward, moving closer to him and fishing into your purse for your own lighter before you hold it up and ask, “Need a light?” 

The man freezes, gaze cutting toward you—his eye is so dark and so empty that it almost chills you, an endless abyss that threatens to consume you. You swear the black is so intense that it seems to be swallowing the dim lighting of the hallway, and you watch as something akin to recognition flashes deep within it. He hardly reacts to your presence otherwise, only his gaze shifts as it roves over you, vaguely reminiscent of a parched man in the desert setting eyes on a distant oasis, unsure if it’s just a figment of his imagination. You raise your eyebrows, feeling a bit exposed underneath his stare, and wave your lighter pointedly. 

He doesn’t make a move to reach for your lighter as you hold it out to him. You can’t tell what the expression on his face is as he watches you, it’s entirely indecipherable, his lips are pulled flat but his eye is swimming with emotions that you just can’t quite place. Just as you’re about to take it as rejection and put your lighter back in your purse, he suddenly closes the distance between the two of you, leaning his head down, cigarette dangling between his lips and gaze trained on you, expectant. 

Oh, you think to yourself a bit breathlessly, throat spasming as you falter under his gaze. He looks amused, watching you carefully, and you can’t help but notice that the dark pit of his eye starts to lighten as he watches you get flustered. When you struggle to light it the first time, you want to blame it on the martinis you’ve been drinking with your friends, but you know from the way your cheeks feel extra hot and your fingers shake that it’s definitely because of the man standing in front of you.

The scent of his cologne floods your senses, you can almost taste the old whiskey on his warm breath, which you can feel fanning lightly across your fingers, making goosebumps rise to your arms—you pray he doesn’t notice, but from the way his eye flickers up a bit to your arm and the corner of his lip quirks up, you think he probably does. 

You thank every god that might be listening when your lighter finally lights, catching the end of his cigarette. Your breath catches as he makes eye contact with you and you think you might be able to get lost in his gaze if you’re not careful; your lips part a bit as if to say something to occupy the silence but no words leave them. 

After what feels like eternity, he finally stands straight and you can breathe again, watching as he leans back against the wall next to you, head falling to the side a bit as he takes a long drag of his cigarette.

His gaze doesn’t leave you once. 

“You smoke?” He finally speaks, and his voice is low, raspy, and hoarse as if he doesn’t use it much. There’s a lilt to his tone, something caught between subtle criticism and surprise, reminiscent of a disapproving old friend who’s taken aback that you’ve picked up such a bad habit. 

“Sometimes, why?” you answer, a bit defensively when you catch the edge to his tone. 

You don’t smoke—you carry around your brother’s old lighter as a memento, safekeeping for if he ever decides to come back to you, you’re honestly surprised the thing still works as well as it does—but you feel like you have to prove a point now because he sounds a bit judgmental about it.

He only shrugs lazily. “Don’t look like the type.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Is there ‘a type?’” you ask sarcastically.

He pointedly looks over you, gaze raking up and down your body once in a slow, borderline sensual way. You can feel your cheeks heating up again, you curse your body violently for betraying you. 

“Yeah,” he drawls after a few moments. “Not you.” 

You scoff loudly, looking away, and you blame the alcohol when you find yourself admitting, “… I don’t smoke.”

The man smiles thinly at the three words, a triumphant spark shooting through the brown of his eye and an expression on his face that tells you he somehow knew it without you having to say it out loud but appreciated the confirmation.

“Told you,” he says. “Don’t look the type.”

“Hmph,” is all you respond with, flipping your lighter shut and slipping it back into your purse. 

You don’t leave right away; you don’t think you could even if you wanted to, you feel like a deer caught in headlights beneath his gaze, feet glued to the ground. But the problem lies in the fact that you don’t want to leave, there’s something about him that has you drawn in like a moth to flame and you don’t even know why because you don’t even know his name yet. And you probably shouldn’t be, you’ve always had a keen sense of self-preservation and there’s a dangerous edge to this man that should concern you—you can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he dresses, and the way he holds himself. 

Dangerous, you think to yourself, but you’re charmed by it—you know you should probably get back to the bar where your friends are, but your feet don’t budge. He’s watching you curiously, not making any move to say anything, just observing you and you feel like you might crumble beneath his gaze. You can’t tell if he’s searching for something or if he’s just looking at you to look at you; the air between the two of you is tense but not in an awkward way. But you decide to break the silence with: “What’s your name?”

He hesitates, gaze narrowing just a bit as if he’s considering whether or not he should tell you, and you feel a bit embarrassed, tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth as you anxiously wait for his response. 

“Dazai,” he finally says, and you can’t help but notice he sounds a bit breathless. “Dazai Osamu.”

The name feels so achingly familiar that it almost makes you question whether or not you’ve ever met this man before even though you’re sure that you would remember if you did. You give him your name in return and watch as his lips curve upward slightly as he repeats it out loud, making your chest feel warm and your mind a bit foggy. He says your name as if he’s spoken it dozens of times before, the intimacy of it nearly has you reeling.

It has you reeling so badly that you speak without thinking, longing to drag the conversation out. 

“Would you… maybe want to have a drink with me?” The words spill from your lips before you can stop them and instantly, you want to swallow your own tongue, shifting a bit nervously on your feet. Usually, when you drink you’re more outgoing, but with this man, you feel like a teen girl fumbling over words with her school crush.

His lips part to respond but no words leave them, conflict swims in his gaze so flagrantly that it makes you a bit embarrassed, realizing he’s probably trying to figure out the best way to reject you. You notice, distantly, that some other foreign emotion flashes on his face and it’s so brief that you almost miss it, but you swear that it’s something akin to a reality slap from the way his eye widens and lips part a bit. 

Heat rises to your cheeks as you wait for the inevitable rejection, he casts a look backward, in the direction of the steps that lead to the second floor’s high-end VIP rooms that only the most elite of Yokohama can afford and you realize that this man is probably a bit more important than you thought if that’s where he came from, throat a bit dry. 

You start to try to make up some excuse and rush back to your coworkers with your tail between your legs but then he finally says: 

“We can get a drink.” 

Your eyes widen a bit, a smile splits across your face. You catch a sour look crossing his face as soon as the words escape him as if he regrets them right as they’re spoken. For a second, it’s almost as if he’s fighting an internal battle, and you wonder if he’s trying to figure out if he should take back his words. You hardly think anything of it in your tipsy state, too excited to even fully register it all. 

“Yeah?” you ask so eagerly that you want to rip your own tongue out because the last thing you want is to seem desperate.

But clearly, he loses the battle, because his dark eye only softens a bit at your enthusiasm. The corner of his lip curls upward and you swear you see something else in his expression—something caught between grief and longing that makes your throat swell even with the alcohol clouding your mind.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

You hold your hand out to him; you’re not really sure why and you think you might’ve just embarrassed yourself again when his gaze cuts down to it intensely. You withdraw your hand with a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry,” you say quietly. “Got ahead of myself, I guess.”

Dazai doesn’t respond for an agonizing amount of time and when you’re about to head back to the main part of the club and hope he follows you, he decides to hold his hand out to you. 

“No need to apologize,” he tells you, voice a bit more hoarse now. 

You reach out to take his hand, fingers brushing his bandaged wrist, where his suit jacket is riding up his arm just a bit. His pulse is erratic and rapid beneath your touch, a complete 180 from the calm, aloof expression on his face. His fingers intertwine with yours as you lead him back into the club—his grip is a bit too tight, but you don’t mind. For some reason, it feels a bit comforting.

You and Dazai make your way back down the hall in the direction of the main room of the club. As soon as he pushes open the door, he pulls his hand from yours but before you can even process the action enough to pout at the loss of contact, he’s slipping his arm around your waist to tuck you into his side to not lose you in the crowds of drunken clubgoers and you think you might feel a bit faint at the way his fingers press into your lower hip through the thin cloth of your dress.

You can’t help but notice the way people seem to part for the two of you, even with the majority of them drunk out of their minds, it’s like they catch one glance of Dazai and move out of his way. It seems instinctual, almost, as if he’s exuding an aura that no one can bring themselves to come near. 

You peer up at him curiously, watching his eyelashes flutter as he looks down at you as if he can feel you looking at him. Your face is hot when he catches you looking at him so you immediately avert your gaze; you can feel him let out a puff of amusement, but he doesn’t say anything as the two of you finally reach the bar.

“A gentleman,” you tease when he pulls out the stool for you to sit. He waves the bartender down and you watch, a bit surprised, when the man instantly makes his way over to you, gaze flickering to Dazai. 

It had taken you twenty minutes to wave the man down earlier to get your drink. 

You also can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even ask Dazai what drink he wants, pouring him whiskey on the rocks, a luxury brand that probably costs more than your monthly rent. 

You feel a bit embarrassed ordering your cheap martini after, distracting him with idle conversation.

“Do you come here a lot or something?” you ask him curiously, lifting your drink to your lips to take a sip of your drink once the bartender passes it over—it tastes better than it did before. Smoother.

“Or something,” Dazai agrees cryptically, the corners of his lips tilting upward as he looks over you. “Why?”

“So mysterious,” you say playfully, before shrugging. “I’m just curious, he seemed to know you… maybe I’m also trying to figure out if I’d be able to run into you again here.”

You watch him hesitantly, wondering if it was a bit weird to add that, cursing your lips once again for moving before your brain can process. But Dazai doesn’t look weirded out by your comment—he looks a bit surprised, yes, but in a pleased way rather than a disturbed way. 

“Already trying to plot out meeting me again?” he drawls, watching you from the corner of his eye with an indecipherable look that doesn’t match the curl of his lips. “What if you decide you don’t like me? If I end up being dangerous?”

“Oh, you’re definitely dangerous, Dazai Osamu,” you say firmly with a laugh, eyes glimmering. “I could tell that from the moment I saw you. I’m not that drunk.”

His eyebrow raises a bit as he tilts his head to the side. “And yet you invited me for a drink anyway,” he notes, his index finger on his free hand thrumming steadily on the bartop. 

“Maybe I like danger,” you say, leaning in a bit closer just to test the waters.

Dazai doesn’t pull away, your heart races in your chest as his gaze traces your face, so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips. You think you might’ve been wrong before when you compared the color of his eye to an abyss—now, beneath the lighting of the club, you think they’re far more reminiscent of a starry night, just as endless as the abyss, but not quite as dark and hopeless with the celestial bodies glittering within them.

“Maybe you should be more careful,” he murmurs, and there’s an odd shift in his voice—a warning, as if he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you agree idly, “or maybe I enjoy living life on the edge. It’s short enough as it is, isn’t it? I’d prefer to live it to the fullest than die having barely lived at all.”

“Living life to the fullest involves inviting shady men to drink with you and scheming out a second meeting without even having decided if you like them?” Dazai questions, voice low and amused.

“Shady?” you grin. “Well, I guess you said it, not me. Anyway, I’ve decided that I already like you, Dazai Osamu, so, of course, I’m going to scheme out a second meeting—hopefully, one where I’m not quite as drunk so I can actually charm you, I’m very charming when I’m sober, I’ve been told. I don’t fumble over my words quite as much, or lighters, for that matter.”

You’ve literally never been told once in your life that you’re charming when you’re sober, so you don’t know where that came from, but you decide to roll with it and hope for the best. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m quite charmed already,” Dazai says, lips tilting up into a smile that seems a bit more genuine, reflecting in the way his eye curves up too. “If you get any more charming, I might just be in danger.”

“Well, do you like danger then?” you ask, resting your elbow on the bar so you can prop your chin on your hand, looking up at Dazai through your lashes. “We’ve already established that I enjoy it, are you going to join me on the edge, Dazai?”

For some reason, for a split second, it seems as if you’ve asked Dazai the most difficult question in the world—the space between his brows creases and the easy smile on his lips flattens, the starry sky painted in his eye dulls back into the terrible abyss. Your lips part to say something, because even with the fuzziness of your drink clouding your head, you know you made a mistake somewhere. 

“I usually stay far from the edge,” he admits quietly, “... too much at risk for that.”

“... Usually?” you press, latching onto the word quickly as you toss him another teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Am I enough to tempt you closer to it, then?”

“You have no idea,” he breathes out so quietly that you think you’re not meant to overhear it. As if he realizes he might’ve said it a bit too loud, he tilts his head to the side and gives you half of a smile as he asks, “What makes you so sure you like me already, anyway?”

You match his smile, making a show of humming, dramatically thinking long and hard about it. Then you shrug, smile widening, “Don’t know. Maybe I just decided. Or maybe, I’d like to think it’s fate.”

Andddd you’ve made a mistake again. You falter when you see how his expression closes off instantly and you wish you could bite your own tongue off because, of course, it’s just your luck to have misspoken twice in a span of two minutes. This is why you don’t socialize with people.

“I don’t believe in fate,” he finally says, voice a bit tighter than it was before.

“Why?” you ask curiously, brows furrowing a bit.

He hesitates, gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turns his gaze away, lifting it to the ceiling instead. All he says is: “I don’t like the idea of my life being predestined by some higher power—if there’s a fate, then I’ll exhaust everything I have trying to defy it.”

“Okay,” you agree, still not entirely understanding why he’s so against the idea of fate—you think it’s rather romantic but to each their own. Either way, you raise your glass to him, waiting for him to click his against yours. “To defying fate then.” 

His throat bobs as he swallows at your words, an odd look in his eye as he repeats quietly, “To defying fate.”

Dazai is in trouble. 

He thought he could indulge himself just for one night. If it’s his fate to meet you, then let it happen only once so he can be done with it—one night, and then everything will return to how it should be. He’ll fall back into the shadows and you’ll live your life in the light, a long and fulfilling life where he isn’t putting you in danger just by being around you. But he’s realizing, very quickly, that he severely overestimated his self-control, which is a feat in itself, really, because Dazai knew that his self-control would be abysmal when it comes to you but he still somehow managed to critically misjudge just how abysmal it would be.

He thinks he probably looks like a fool—you’re rambling about your work and the graduate school program you’d just been accepted into, you’re switching between topics so quickly that Dazai can hardly keep up, but he doesn’t care, he’s content just hearing your voice, slurred and excitable as it may be.

It’s different hearing it in person than it is in all of the vague memories of the other worlds—you’re different. You’re brighter. More alive. A shining star in a sea of midnight. The warmth of the sun giving life to a rotting corpse. For the first time in twenty-two years, Dazai Osamu feels like he’s finally breathing. The misty memories didn’t do you justice in any regard, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to return to the shadows alone after having felt the brief glow of your light, warm and comforting against his skin, because Dazai already can’t seem to get enough of it. He thinks you must be like a drug or something because there’s no other explanation for the way he’s so utterly entranced by the sight and sound of you. 

A part of him wonders if all of the other Dazais have met this same fate at your hands: bewitched and spellbound, unable to draw their eyes away from you, hardly even able to remember to breathe in your presence. He thinks that they must have—he can see flashes of their lives and feel echoes of their emotions, and it’s always most intense whenever it involves you. 

It’s a struggle just to remind himself to play the part of the ordinary man with you around so as to not scare you off, pretending he's like any other human being and not a monster wearing the skin of a man, like you haven’t been the object of his obsessions since the moment he came in contact with the Book. He tries to keep himself pliant and inviting with a loose posture and warm gaze, free of the intensity curdling through his body. He keeps his smile small and gentle, hiding the sharp and bloodied teeth decorating his mouth, and he keeps his touches brief, hardly ghosting your skin in fear that you’ll start rotting beneath it. He doesn’t know if he succeeds. He honestly doesn’t even know if you notice, you’re way more intoxicated than you originally made yourself out to be; he can tell from the way your ever-present smile is lopsided and the way your eyes are a bit glazed over, if it wasn’t abundantly apparent by the slur to your words.

“... and then, Hinata kept talking even though everyone else was… Dazai Osamu, are you even listening to me?”

He hums quietly as you abruptly turn your gaze back onto him and for a moment, Dazai is breathless—his name rolls off your tongue with the familiarity of a pair of lovers who’ve been together for years, and he swears that your eyes glitter beneath the lighting of the club as you look at him, and he doesn’t think anyone in his life has ever looked at him the way you do in this moment. Dazai Osamu has always been a name that no one would rather hear, attached to a man that no one would rather see. He’s not used to being talked to like this. He’s not used to being looked at like this. 

He wants to be used to it. 

He so, so desperately wants to be used to it. 

You lean in when he doesn’t respond to you, a bit too close because he can smell the faded scent of your perfume and the gin on your tongue when he takes in a sharp breath to respond—it goes straight to Dazai’s head, his words dying before they can even formulate in his mouth. Everything feels fuzzy and light and Dazai thinks he might actually pass out. You’re such a far cry from the numb void that he’s used to, overwhelming his senses with the sight and touch and scent and sound of you, overwhelming his mind with emotions that he doesn’t know how to cope with and he just can’t get a handle on himself no matter how hard he tries. Every time he thinks he does, you throw another curveball at him like leaning in so close that Dazai swears if you were any closer, his lips would be brushing yours. 

He’s never yearned like this before, not when he found himself in Odasaku’s house years ago as he tried to get ahold of that wretched painting and not during the long, dark nights when he found himself gasping awake, torn from dreams of lives he’ll never experience, the ghost of your lips still smiling against his skin. He can feel it deep in his chest, clogging his lungs and throat. He feels like he’s fighting the strings of a marionette as his fingers twitch at his side, begging him to reach out and feel the skin of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, cup the side of your face just to see if you’d lean into his touch, craving it the same way he craves yours. 

He yearns and Dazai Osamu doesn’t know if he has the strength to deny himself of you now that he’s finally gotten a taste of what he could have. He tries to remind himself of what’s at stake, he tries to conjure the images that have plagued his nightmares so many times before—the sight of you crumpled in his arms, cold and still, and the sound of your cries for help, jarring and agonizing to his ears. But all he can muster is the sight of the wide and genuine smile that only you have ever directed toward him in all of his other lives and the sound of your bright laughter ringing in his ears, two things that he’s been deprived of entirely in this life until now.

“... if the phone call is that important, you can take it, y’know? You don’t have to sit here pretending to listen to me when you’re focused on that.” 

Dazai is hardly able to drag himself back to the conversation at hand, your words processing slowly, as if his thoughts are being dragged through thick tar, but he forces himself to focus because even in your drunken state you sound a bit irritated. 

He glances down at the bartop, where he had placed his phone down after taking a seat next to you, watching as it vibrates against the hardwood and as Chuuya’s name flashes across the screen. A few seconds pass, and his phone goes still and the missed call notification pops up on his screen—evidently along with nine others. 

Dazai winces. He wishes the phone call had been what was distracting him—unfortunately, it’s impossible to tell you that he’s spiraling because of you without sounding psychotic. 

As soon as the call ends, his phone is buzzing again, Chuuya's name flashing across the screen once more, persistent as ever. Dazai’s gaze cuts backward to where the two of you had come from, up to the windows on the second floor that look down on the main floor, and then he glances back down at his phone.

“I’ll only be a moment,” Dazai tells you quietly, reaching for his phone.

You toss him an easy smile that nearly has him faltering, whatever irritation you may have felt is gone in an instant. 

“I’ll be waiting,” you tease, and Dazai’s heart is in his throat as he hesitates for just a second too long, as familiar words echo through his head, memories that aren’t his own from a life that he’d never be able to experience. 

“I’ll wait for you.”

He lingers too long evidently because you shoo him away, spinning on the bar stool to face the bartender as you try to flag him down for another drink that you probably should not be having, seeing how you’re swaying a bit on the stool. Dazai only shakes his head as he makes his way away from the bar closer to the edges of the club, where it’s a bit quieter, if only marginally. 

As soon as he leaves your presence, the familiar cold numbness returns, spreading like ice through his chest and he’s desperate to be back in your vicinity already, missing the warmth. Oh, this is trouble, he laments to himself, trying to push away the longing feeling spreading through him and instead turns his attention to purposely waiting until the last ring to answer Chuuya’s call, if only to be a bit spiteful because the other man’s persistence is the reason he had to leave you.

Lifting his phone to his ear, he asks coolly, “Do you need something, Chuuya?”

“Where the hell did you go?” Chuuya immediately hisses back, fury dripping from his words. He’s speaking quietly and Dazai can’t hear any conversation in the background, so he can only assume that Chuuya had stepped out of the room where the rest of the Port Mafia and Pale Flame executives were having their meeting. “You’ve been gone for forty minutes, Kouyou and I have been handling the meeting. Do you even have anyone with you right now? Hirotsu? Tachihara? Atsushi?”

“I’m sure you and Ane-san have been conducting the meeting perfectly fine without me,” Dazai says dismissively, leaning against the wall as his gaze cuts through the crowds to the bar he’d left you at but he can’t catch sight of you through the masses of people. He frowns, pacing a bit down the room to try to get a better angle.

“Bastard,” Chuuya spits out with a venomous type of disrespect that he only attacks Dazai with when he’s exceptionally frustrated. “Answer my question. Where the hell are you? Do you have a protection detail on you? What are you doing?”

“I’m in the club still,” Dazai says distantly, and he’s sure Chuuya can tell that he’s barely paying attention to the conversation because the man lets out a noise caught between a snarl and a growl, much like the dog he is. “I’ll be fine, we have men stationed all over—you’re always so uptight, Chuuya, you should pull out the stick every once in a while.”

“You-” Chuuya says loudly and sharply, cutting himself off abruptly, evidently having realized he’s let himself get too loud. Dazai is hardly listening at this point, getting increasingly more agitated as the masses of crowds block his line of sight to where you should be sitting. “I’m coming down there.”

That catches Dazai’s attention.

“Do not.” The two words leave his lips, a command so cold and cutting that he can practically hear Chuuya jolt in surprise at the sudden shift from the absent tone he’d been speaking with before. He forces his voice to take upon a more teasing lilt as he says, “I met a girl, Chuuya. If you come down here, your ugly mug will scare her right off.”

“What?” Chuuya sounds so baffled it’s almost comical. Dazai might’ve found amusement in it were he not so irritated with his current predicament. “I-you-what?”

“You sound so shocked, Chuuya. Some of us talk to more women than just Ane-san and Gin-chan, you know?” Dazai drawls, noticing that there’s a gap in the crowds up ahead that should give him a direct view toward the bar, beelining toward it immediately.

“Shut up,” Chuuya seethes. “Who the hell would even give you the time of day? And since when do you seek out women? You’ve never shown any interest before.”

“Are you jealous?” Dazai croons. “It’s an ugly look on you, Chuuya.”

Chuuya splutters. “The fuck is wrong with you tonight?” he demands. “You’ve been acting like a damn freak ever since we left the base. Mood swings left and right.”

“You know I don’t like…” Dazai trails off as he finally gets a direct view of the bar, dark eye focusing in on where you seem to be arguing with an unfamiliar man. The smile that had been curling to the corners of his lips falls flat and his gaze goes cold—ice spreads through his chest again but this time it isn’t a result of the numbness, rather it’s a much more dangerous emotion that threatens to erupt. “I have to go.”

“Bastard, if you hang up on me-”

Dazai doesn’t wait for him to finish the sentence, hanging up the call and slipping his phone into his pocket, ignoring it when it immediately starts buzzing again. He doesn’t waste a second before he makes his way back across the club to the bar.

If people had avoided him before, it was nothing compared to now, watching them scramble out of his way even in their drugged-up and intoxicated states. He doubts that most of them even know the significance of who he is, they can just feel the cold fury rolling off of him in waves. It’s a bit impressive, honestly, how quickly he’s able to get back to you, and his hand darts out quickly, fingers wrapping tightly around the wrist of the man who was grabbing your forearm, if his grip was any tighter, the man’s bones would be cracking beneath his touch. 

The reaction is instantaneous. Your gaze draws up to him, relief flooding your eyes at the sight of him—distantly, Dazai notes that he thinks that this might be the first time in his life anyone has ever been relieved to see him, but he’s more preoccupied with the man who was bothering you, who’s now turning toward him with an irritated expression.

“Look, man.” Dazai’s hidden eye twitches at the casual address, but he makes sure that the annoyance doesn’t show on his face. “Just trying to get her home, the rest of our coworkers left already.”

Dazai’s vice-like grip doesn’t budge, but his mind races. This is his out. If he lets you go home with your coworker, then he can go back up to the meeting taking place on the second floor and he can try to scorch his mind of the yearning that’s been plaguing him so intensely. Things can go back to normal—his one night of indulgence over, no matter how agonizing the thought of that is. He can return to the Port Mafia base, back in the shadows, and he can use the memory of this night with you to fuel his dedication to his grand plan of protecting this world. It’s a perfect setup, honestly, if he disregards two critical issues: 1) he’s probably incapable of scorching his mind of the yearning you’ve brought on and 2) more importantly, you’re staring at him with an expression nothing short of pleading, seemingly begging him not to leave.

The words escape his lips before he can think to stop them: “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take her home.”

The faux-concern that the man had been directing toward you disappears as soon as Dazai speaks, shifting into an expression that probably would have been concerning to anyone who wasn’t a literal mafioso, and Dazai is not just a mafioso, he is their boss and he has dealt with people who were objectively much more powerful and concerning than a regular civilian who thinks he’s tougher than he is. So Dazai only tilts his head to the side a bit, the corner of his lip curves up in amusement as he pointedly looks over the man once. The cool metal of the gun hidden in his jacket weighs heavily as a reminder that it’s there and ready for him to use; his fingers twitch toward it, but instead, he pockets his hands, deciding against it, if only because he thinks pulling out a gun might scare you away. He doesn’t want that.

“Who the hell are you?” the man asks furiously—Dazai wonders, a bit absently, if this is that Takeda fellow you were complaining about earlier, he certainly fits the picture with the beady eyes and weaselly face. 

“An old friend,” Dazai drawls—not entirely a lie, just in a different life, and definitely more than friends, but he doesn’t need to know that. “We’ve been catching up. You can go.”

It’s not a request, and evidently, the man isn’t stupid enough to keep pressing Dazai because his confidence falters as he takes a step back, letting go of your arm. Or more probably, he caught a glimpse of the glint of metal hidden by his coat when Dazai shifted to look at you. Either way, Dazai doesn’t care because the man stutters out a few words and a ‘see you Monday’ to you before turning tail and leaving. 

Dazai doesn’t bother correcting him—he definitely will not be seeing you on Monday. He ensures that through the silent order in the sharp look, he gives Tachihara Michizo, who’s been lingering on the outskirts of the club for five minutes now, no doubt trying to keep an eye on him under Chuuya’s command. Tachihara doesn’t hesitate as he nods his head, gaze following the retreating figure of the man before he slinks right after him.

He thinks you have bad friends. Coworkers. Whatever. All of them leaving you drunk and alone with someone who’s a stranger in their eyes. Yes, he scared the only one that tried away, but if it was Dazai in his position, not even god himself would be able to scare him away from making sure you get home safely. 

They don’t deserve you, he decides firmly, and those dark thoughts from earlier return, whispering that he should just take you for himself, tuck you away in the tallest towers of the Port Mafia base. He’d keep you safe. He’d make you happy. You’d never have to want for anything ever again, he’d give you the entire world if you so pleased. He shuts off the train of thought before it can become any more tempting, knowing that his thread of self-control concerning you is waning at best.

Dazai promptly turns his attention back to you and all of the irritation that he might’ve been feeling about your coworkers and that man washes away when he catches the dazzled look on your face as you look up at him, elbow propped on the bartop and chin resting in your hand. 

“Thanks,” you say so softly that Dazai barely hears you over the thundering music and clamoring people around the two of you. “That was Takeda… I don’t know, maybe he didn’t mean any harm but… I just don’t want him to know where I live, I guess.”

You look sleepy now, eyes a bit heavy and shoulders slumped; the alcohol must’ve worked its way through you already. Dazai also can’t help but notice that the front of your dress is drenched with what looks like the rest of your drink; it must have spilled in the brief struggle between you and your coworker. 

“You’d rather a stranger know, then?” Dazai can’t help but ask, making sure to keep his voice teasing, watching you carefully for a response. 

He’s curious to know if you feel even half as drawn to him as he is to you, to know if this really is a mutual bond that transcends worlds or if it’s a sick obsession on his part triggered by the revelations of the Book. Or it could be both. It’s probably both. Dazai is pretty sure what he feels for you isn’t normal or healthy, and he’s not sure if it’s any healthier in any of the other universes or if every other Dazai is just as twisted when it comes to love as he is. 

“You don’t feel like a stranger,” you admit quietly, looking up at him through your lashes and Dazai’s heart leaps into his throat, clogging his airways and threatening to suffocate him. “Is that weird?”

“No,” Dazai breathes out instantly, the confirmation that your words give him lights a dangerous fire in his chest, one that he needs to put out but can’t bring himself to. “I feel the same.”

Your expression softens, eyes tracing his face, and Dazai thinks he would set the entire world on fire just for you to look at him like that again. Then, he realizes, throat a bit tighter now, that the words are not quite the empty promise that they would be coming from anyone else’s lips—he might just be setting everything he’s built on fire just for you, and your warmth is not enough to push away the cold awareness that suddenly spreads through his body, putting out all of the fires that his time with you has set within him. 

He reaches out, knuckles grazing your cheek. Your lashes flutter as you lean into his touch and instantly, he’s set aflame again, it’s raging through his chest and melting the ice and Dazai thinks he doesn’t care if this is a bond that transcends worlds or a sick obsession. He thinks it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he needs you so desperately that it might kill him if he doesn’t have you. 

It might kill you if he does have you. 

Fire and ice wage a brutal war within him, a futile battle because no matter how much the ice tries to spread, the flames melt it away, and he realizes that he can’t be around you when the war is inevitably won because he’ll never be able to drag himself away from you. 

One night, he reminds himself, sharp and scolding, one night of indulgence. That’s all.

“Come on,” Dazai murmurs. “Let’s get you home.” 

Dazai wonders how a place he’s never been to can feel so much like home. 

Or, well, he assumes this is what a home would feel like, it’s not like he’s ever actually had one to compare to. The penthouse suite of the Port Mafia base is closer to a prison than something he can consider a home. He doesn’t remember enough of his childhood to know if he lived somewhere back then that he considered a home. The shipping container he lived in during his teenage years is probably the closest thing he has to compare to and even then, he never felt safe or warm or comforted there, he just had the distant reassurance that no one would ever bother him while he was there and that was more than he had anywhere else. 

And this is… 

He doesn’t really know how to describe it, the words just won’t come to him—a rare occurrence, considering Dazai’s always been known to have a tongue of the purest silver, acquiring the most lucrative deals for the Port Mafia despite egregious odds and hostile parties solely because he’s learned to read and charm people to the best of his ability. His brain and his tongue have been the driving force behind the Mafia’s rapid and exponential expansion across Japan and into the mainland, yet both fail him now. 

Courtesy of you and your influence, naturally.

The curve to his lips is fond as he trails his fingers across the back of the couch in your living room. It’s all so achingly familiar, as if he’s been here a thousand times before—if he lets his eye flutter shut, he can almost picture you cross-legged on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate tucked neatly between your hands, dozing off as he regales you with nonsensical stories. 

Everything is just how he remembers it from the vague memories. Your desk is set up near the window on the far side of your room, next to the bench where he would sit and watch you while you study, pouting until you finally decided to give him attention. Papers are strewn all across your coffee table; he flips through them idly, realizing that they’re all study materials for the entrance exam to the graduate school you’d just been accepted into—he makes sure to leave them in the same order that you’d left them in, recalling how often you’d end up yelling at him for messing up your piles. A picture hangs on your wall near the door of you and your brother—familiar, why is he so familiar? His gaze lingers for a moment, brows furrowing before he shakes his head, putting the thought in the back of his head as he wonders if he ended up passing in this universe too. 

He wanders over to the kitchen and his eyes narrow just a smidge, noticing that there are two dirty mugs in your sink, the ones you’d always use to make those fancy hot chocolates of yours. He hums to himself softly as he traces his finger along the rim of one, recognizing the same shade of lipstick you wore tonight staining the brim. The other mug has no such stain. His throat tightens a bit, gaze flickering up to the cabinet he recalls you usually putting your ingredients and when he opens the cabinet, he thinks he might feel a bit sick, seeing them all up on a shelf too high for you to reach on your own—you always put them on the lower shelves. 

His jaw tightens as he pointedly puts them all back down on the lower shelf before shutting the cabinet, a bit more tense now than he was a few moments before. His gaze cuts across your apartment, searching for any sign of who you might’ve been having over—someone important enough for you to make your favorite hot chocolate for—but he finds none until his eyes land on a jacket crumpled in the corner of the room that’s definitely not yours, hidden halfway beneath one of the pillows on his window bench. He has to remind himself that it’s not his and he’s never been here before now so he has no claim over anything.

He makes his way over to it, yanking it out and lifting it to his nose. It doesn’t smell like you, it’s an unfamiliar woody scent that makes his stomach churn for more than one reason—the most primary one being that he doesn’t know whose it is and why they’re leaving clothes at your apartment. It’s a man’s, certainly, he can tell that much from the scent and the size and Dazai thinks he might feel a bit light-headed at the idea of you having other men over your apartment. His only solace comes in the fact that there doesn’t appear to be any other signs of his presence, but it’s a small solace at best. 

He has to leave. The longer he lingers in your apartment, the more he’s struggling to decipher the already blurred line between the lives he remembers and his unfortunate reality. 

One night of indulgence, he reminds himself for the nth time because the night is over. You’d passed out long before even arriving at your apartment, after you gave the address luckily because for better or for worse, that had been one of the few things Dazai hadn’t retained from the vague memories he has of the other universes. 

He trails back over to the door that leads to your bedroom, a heavy feeling settling over his chest as he leans against the frame. His gaze draws to where you’re fast asleep beneath the covers, still dressed in the outfit you’d worn to the club because although all of the other Dazais would have changed you into something more comfortable when you’re too drunk to do it yourself, he does not retain that privilege in this world. The last thing he wants is for you to think he’s some perverted creep. 

Dazai sighs, eyes sliding shut as he lets himself bask in the moment for just a little longer, dreading having to return to the harsh reality of a life without you, fated to be alone until he’s sure that he’s secured the safety of this world when he can take the final step in guaranteeing that you and Odasaku will be able to live out your lives peacefully. Without him. 

He wants to touch you one last time, brush his fingers against your cheek, enjoy the way your warmth spreads through him, but he thinks he’s tested his self-control too much for one day. He fears that if he pushes it anymore, he’ll never be able to go back to how it was, so it’s with a heart that pleads for him to reconsider and a body that resists his every move that he turns away from your bedroom, making his way over to your kitchen counter to grab the key that he fished out of your purse. 

It takes all of his restraint to not look back, jaw clenched so tight that he thinks his teeth might grind down to dust. He steps outside and the fresh air feels like poison to his lungs, he wants to step back inside, drown himself in the familiar scent of you, the familiar scent of the only home he’s ever known in any lifetime, the one he has to deny himself of for the sake of preserving this world, for the sake of saving Odasaku and saving you. 

His fingers tremble a bit as he slides the key into the lock and turns it, checking twice to make sure it locks properly so no one can sneak in while you’re sleeping, before kneeling down to slide the key beneath the crack of the door back into your apartment. 

As soon as the key is out of his reach, Dazai feels cold and empty; the black hole within him expands now that he’s vulnerable again without your presence fighting it off, and the force of it is ten times as lethal now that he’s experienced what life might be without it constantly consuming him. He stares at your door for a second after rising to his feet, his mind and heart and body all at war with each other. The parts of him that haven’t festered and withered over the years beg him to just go back to you, tell you everything, and crumble in your arms and pray that you don’t think he’s delusional and call the police on him; the parts of him that have been corrupted by the time he’s spent in the darkest parts of the world whisper more dangerous words, telling him to go back in and take you back with him, it doesn’t matter what you want if it means he can keep you safe, and he knows that one day you’ll understand why he did it, you’ll even be happy because you’re meant to be happy with him, no matter how it comes about. 

And he thinks he’s a fool because the only fortunate thing about his circumstances had been that no matter how vividly he remembered you and your apartment, the Book had not passed on the knowledge of its location, so he’d never been tempted to “accidentally” seek you out by wandering in locations that you frequent because he had no idea where you were. Yokohama isn’t a small city and he was never going to cross the line of purposely seeking you out through the use of Port Mafia resources because that meant he was purposely putting you in danger. 

But now, he’ll have the knowledge of your location dangling in front of his face for the rest of his life, however long it may be. Every day will be a struggle to resist the urge to seek you out, as if everything isn’t hard enough for him already. 

Frustration builds in his chest as he makes his way down to the parking lot of the apartment complex. Realistically, Dazai had plenty of options that would have objectively been better than this. He could have sent you with his driver alone, but the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Albatross, the Flags remain among the most loyal members of the Port Mafia, but Dazai doesn’t think anyone is worthy enough to lay their hands on you. He thinks that if Albatross had reported back to him that he had to carry you into your apartment and put you in your bed, he might’ve put a bullet through his skull and then he’d have to deal with mutiny and he can’t afford a mutiny when things are already so tenuous, stability in the Port Mafia has to be paramount until he can get through all five phases of his plan. 

But even if he didn’t send you with Albatross, he could have had Kouyou handle this. Kouyou already knows of you, she’s the one that he assigned to make sure you’re never threatened by Yokohama’s underground, and she knew where your apartment was already. It still leaves a sour taste in his mouth but not as strong as the thought of sending you with Albatross. He could’ve had Kouyou take care of this and he could’ve been free of the temptation already looming over him but-

But Dazai is selfish. Dazai is selfish and reckless when it comes to you; even when he knows what’s at stake, even when he knows the destruction that he brings. Fate, the word rings through his head, mocking him. Fate, fate, fate. It’s his fate to always be drawn to you, like a bee to honey and a moth to flame, irresistible and inexorable. He can’t avoid it and he can’t control himself no matter how hard he tries. You’re tied together by threads that the gods shorten with every passing second and they laugh down at him as they watch him trying to resist it. 

It’s his fate to be drawn to you. 

It’s his fate to be your destruction.

Dazai slips back into the backseat of Albatross’s sleek black car, shutting the door just a bit too harshly, gaze immediately drifting back toward the apartment complex, up to the closed door on the second level where he’d left you. He waits for the car to pull away, but it doesn’t. Irritated, he turns his gaze to the rearview mirror in the front of the car, catching Albatross staring at him curiously, dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose. 

“What?” Dazai asks, voice low and icy. 

Albatross is unperturbed—of all of the members of the Port Mafia, only he and Chuuya never flinch at his unapproachability. “Ya gotta girl now, boss?” he asks curiously, tilting his head to the side as he waits for Dazai’s response.

“No.”

“Hm.” Albatross only hums as if he’s disappointed by the answer. “You seemed happier, s’all. Never seen you like that before. Was nice.” 

Dazai’s jaw tightens again at the man’s words, biting words threatening to escape his lips but he swallows them. Instead, he becomes acutely aware of the jacket that he’s still holding in his left hand. His expression twists and then he tosses it into the front seat at Albatross, who blinks and catches it, looking down confused.

“Whadya want me to do with this?” he asks, baffled. 

“Burn it.” Is all Dazai responds with. “Take me back to the base.”

“... You got it, boss,” Albatross murmurs, and he still sounds disappointed, but an order is an order so he doesn’t hesitate as he starts the car back up and pulls out of the complex’s parking lot. 

Dazai’s gaze doesn’t leave your apartment door once until Albatross finally turns down a street out of sight of the building. 

One night of indulgence, he reminds himself for the last time. One night of indulgence and then he’ll never encounter you again. For better or for worse, that’s how it has to be. 

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

[starkeysmoon]

MISSED YOU

paring: neteyam sully x omaticaya gender neutral! reader

summary: neteyam sneaks away to see you

warnings: none, fluff!

word count: 1.2K!

request: hi i have a neteyam request :) i’d like to read about neteyam sneaking out to see his secret gf, basically his rebellious era hahah, where instead of doing his duties he goes to see his gf and he is happier with her, not needing to be the perfect son (bonus if the sully family are shocked by his recent behaviour and then meet his gf)

a/n: hey lovely, thank you so much for the request! i’m thinking of making the bonus into a part two, hope that’s alright. (also! my orignal upload got deleted??)

it wasn’t in neteyam’s nature to act like this. disregarding his parents' orders and sneaking around to see you.

however, he couldn't stop thinking about you. especially the laugh that would fall from your lips when he made a joke, the never-ending smile he wore when he was around you, the warmth of your touch, and just the way you made him feel in general.

It was as if you had cast a spell on him that he couldn’t seem to break from, not that he was complaining.

all he knew for certain was that he needed to see you. as a result, he settled to complete his task as soon as possible. his parents, particularly his father, had instructed him to gather twigs and branches for the mreki u'lito (fire pit) tonight.

he hastily gathered the twigs and branches, tying them together before he placed them to the side of a tree and hiding them well. he made a mental note to himself that he would bring them back home later, as he was supposed to.

a sense of guilt filled his chest as he looked back to check on the now-wrapped twigs and branches. his hands trembled a little. his tail swooshed from side to side. debating if he wanted to go through with it or not.

neteyam knew he shouldn’t leave his duties unattended, especially as the eldest son of the family. his parents were counting on him.

he knew it was wrong and that they would be worried if he didn't return soon, but why did being around you feel so right? he let out a huff, shaking his head before walking in the direction of your meeting spot.

neteyam was approaching, walking quickly, but he paused. his ears perked up when he heard familiar sounds of laughter and giggles coming from south the direction of where you were supposed to meet.

he followed instinctively and was met with a surprising sight. you were playing with a plant, the helicoradian to be exact.

he watched you in awe as you touched the leaf, it coiled up and retracted to the ground in response. you let out a soft giggle before moving to the next one.

“(name)!” he called, a smile filling his face. you turned towards the sound of the voice, smiling, before rushing towards the young boy and immediately engulfing him in a hug.

he sighed in contentment at the warmth of your presence. his previous sullen demeanor completely washing away from his body. his hands moved down to your waist and drew you in closer. the two of you stayed like that for a few moments before eventually pulling away.

“that seemed like a lot of fun,” he noted, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“it was.” you answered, your smile widening. “so, what brings you here?” you teased, already knowing the answer.

“a certain someone,” he quipped.

“and where might that certain someone be, neteyam?” you inquired, a smirk now tugging at your lips.

“they happen to be right in front of me,” he says happily, you giggle at his answer as he takes your hands and places them in his own.

“so miss me already, huh?” you teased once more.

“more than anything.” he sighs, his thumb gently caressing your hand.

“you know, it’s only been a day,” you point out, and he laughs in response.

“and a day is already long enough for me to miss you, my love,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours.

your cheeks feel hot at his words and your stomach does a flip, almost as if butterflies had entered your stomach and were fluttering around. “you just can’t seem to get enough of me can you?”

he chuckles at your words. “yes, I truly cannot (name).”

you pull him in for another hug, burying your face in the crook of his neck, as his hands wrap around your waist gently. the two of you soaking in each other’s warmth and presence once more.

he always made you feel at ease when he was close to you, and you adored him for it. you peppered soft kisses along his neckline before gazing up to look at your boyfriend to find that he was already looking at you with a grin on his face.

“i see you (name),” he says softly, before planting a gentle peck to your lips.

“i see you too, neteyam.” you beam up at him, noticing how his eyes light up at your words and how you can tell they are filled with so much love and care.

“now, are you up for a quick game of who can close all the helicoradians the fastest?” he challenged with an annoyingly cheeky face, and you playfully roll your eyes.

“oh, you’re on, sully!” you say, rushing towards the helicoradians before you’re pulled back as a hand latches onto the end of your tail.

“hey!” you yelp, swishing your tail out of his grasp. “that’s not fair”

“I never said it had to be fair,” he says, lips curving into a teasing smirk.

“i’ll get you for that!” you threaten.

“go right ahead, (name). i’m right here” he taunts, holding up his hands as if to assert his innocence.

you launch your body onto him, causing the two of you to tumble onto the ground. the helicoradians shrink right under you as the two of you playfully roll around the forest floor trying to topple one another.

it’s a continuous cycle of either one of you on top saying a smug sentence before they get flipped over and their back’s pressed down against the forest floor and they are proven wrong again.

“willing to surrender now, (name?)” neteyam asks, noticing your somewhat tired state, his body now on top of yours pressing you down on the ground.

“no,” you reply, refusing to back down despite the obvious fatigue in your voice.

although your response confirms his suspicions, and he moves away from you before offering his hand, which you gratefully accept.

the first thing you notice when you’re back off the forest floor is neteyam’s body covered with dirt before your eyes flicker to your own.

you gently brush it off yet it does no good, as it creates an even bigger smudge. neteyam moves towards you and helps you brush off the rest of the dirt on your body.

“thank you, neteyam” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder, eyes full of gratefulness.

“no worries, my love.” he chuckles, his hand moving to place a braid behind your ear. your cheeks turn into a shade of pink at his motion.

“i really do love you, you know that?” you say, giggling. he nods his head at your words, “and i really love you too.”

the two of you turn around hand in hand to notice that the helicoradian field had coiled and shrunken to the ground.

you both end up bursting into a fit of laughter at each other's competitiveness earlier. “it’s a draw,” you exclaim, and neteyam merely shakes his head. “you wish.”

#neteyam #atwow #avatar #jake sully #lo’ak #avatar the way of water #lo’ak x reader #fanfiction #lo’ak sully #neteyam x you #neteyam x reader #avatar 2 #avatar 2009 #neteyam sully #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam x reader smut #avatar fluff #avatar x reader #avatar smut

[0oolookitsme]

Daddy of Three

Type - A One Shot again!

Verse - Footballer!Harry x Art Director!Y/n

Word Count - 2.2k

Warnings - None that I can find! (other than the fact that this is pure smut ofc)

A/n - Lowkey hate the title (you will too when you find out the context) but I just hope you enjoy this hahah <3

Kinks - Daddy kink, Face Fucking, Breeding Kink, Praise Kink.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Please rb to share!

Y/n was chopping up the vegetables she'd need for the meal she was going to cook tomorrow morning for Harry and Karan's lunch. Her eyes remained on her iPad's screen, on which she could see the page Carla was presenting in the meeting.

Clicking on the little mic icon by her knuckle, she unmuted herself. "Marla, don't you think that we should use red and yellow undertones? It's going to be a violent and a sad scene, I think it would work better," she said, not exactly agreeing with her idea of using green undertones.

"I agree," a few people wrote in the chat.

"But ma'am, we probably wouldn't have as much screen time for that scene. Plus, we have a scene inside the hotel's bathroom after that, which they tell us would give off green hues," Marla said, sliding photos till the bathroom set was on the screen.

Y/n hummed, laughing at how she'd absolutely forgotten about that. "Then I'd say that we do put green undertones but less. We need the switch between the scenes to be slightly puzzling – nothing like 'what the hell are they doing in the bathroom now' though," she said, making the other woman laugh and other people text the laughing emojis.

They agreed on trying the directory for the same the next day, and planned out a few more things before bidding goodbyes. Right at that time, Harry and Karan also got up from the couch as the show they were watching just ended.

"Are you done?" Harry asked her, walking behind Karan who seemed to be growing taller and taller everyday. It still mesmerized her, the resemblance between the two – same green eyes, same curly hair, same nose. Only his mouth matched with hers, other than that, he was a ditto copy of Harry.

"Yes," Y/n groaned while getting up, stretching the moment she was on her feet while taking a big yawn. "Not really, just a bit tired from all the screen time," she said when Harry asked her if she was feeling sleepy.

"Serve the dinner, will you? I just quickly need to wind my stuff up." She looked at Harry with pleading and slightly guilty eyes, kissing the corner of her mouth once he mumbled an 'of course.'

"Don't take too much time, though!" He yelled as she hurried up the stairs.

Karan climbed up in his chair on his own with a bit of struggle. He'd finally grown tall enough to be able to sit on the main dinner table, but still he needed a taller chair to sit on.

"Look at you going, already a big boy," Harry grinned at the little one, who was about to turn four this year. A breathy chuckle escaped his mouth when the boy's ears turned pink, he was born a shy persona but that never deterred him from speaking up when he wanted to.

Y/n watched from atop as Harry talked to Karan about the show they were just watching. It had shown some wild animals tonight, from what she could hear. She couldn't help but swoon a little bit on the inside as Karan climbed down the chair with a bit of grunting and helped Harry serve the table.

"Bring me a glass, please," Harry asked the kid just because he was eager to help. "Thank you," he appreciated him once the glass was on the table.

"Y/n –" Harry was about to call for her when he saw her watching him from the doorframe of their room. "C'mon, what are you waiting for?" He laughed, feeling a tad bit of shyness creep up on him when he realized that she'd been watching him.

They've known each other since childhood yet she still manages to turn his ears pink by just her gaze – it was yet another trait that Karan got from Harry.

"Could watch you be a baby daddy all day long. Just makes me feel so hot," she whispered in his ears, grinning when he slapped her bum sneakily.

"Did you tell daddy about the puzzle we solved today?" Y/n asked Karan and melted on the inside when his eyes lit up and he sat upright, suddenly excited and eager to tell Harry all about it.

And Karan's energized talking about the animals was how they spent their time eating dinner. Talking about Karan's puzzle, Harry's practice routine for the next day and Y/n's plans for visiting the set for a run-through were some add-ons in the talk here and there. Once they'd finished, Y/n took Karan up to his room to read him one of his nightly-stories, and lull him to sleep – it was Harry's turn to do the dishes tonight.

The toddler was extra tired today. He'd had football practice for a small upcoming match in his school, solved a lot of math problems and a whole puzzle in one day. So, it only took about four paragraphs of the story in the calming voice of his mother for him to pass out.

Y/n climbed down the stairs as silently as she could and pressed a feather-light kiss on Harry's neck, who didn't get scared in the slightest – probably because he heard her jam her toe in the leg of the dining table.

Harry hummed to acknowledge her presence, loading the last plate into the dishwasher. She stood back patiently, and once he was done, Harry turned around and leaned his bottom on the kitchen counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Then, y/n leaned in to press a chaste kiss onto his lips.

"Mm, someone's feeling needy," he smirked when she pulled back, pulling her in again by her waist when she nodded. "What do you need, love?" Harry asked her, pecking her lips again with a soft smile on his mouth.

"Need to taste you, daddy – been so long," she mumbled, slowly and slowly relaxing into his body.

He continued tracing the outline of her lips, "Is that so?" He asked again, and when she nodded he released her lower lip from under the weight of his thumb, watching it rise back to its place.

"Then we'll put that mouth of yours to a good use," he rasped, reaching for her mouth again as he slid one of his hands on the back of her head, pulling her hair back to give him space to litter her neck in kisses.

When her mouth met his skin, she left open-mouthed kisses on it and bit on a few spots before Harry started pushing her down on her knees. Once she was down, she pulled down his sweats on his command and watched as his cock stood up, already hard. She spit on her palm, lubricating his length as she stroked him.

"Hands behind your back," Harry told her, and started lowering her head on his length when she took him in his mouth. "Fuck," he breathed, watching her as he pushed her lower and lower on him slowly.

He cherished the feeling of her warm mouth on him, and when she reached his base, he let out a groan as the feeling of his tip touching the very back of her throat.

Y/n could taste his salty pre-cum that had started to leak from his slit. It would've been more convenient for her if she could've placed her hands on his thighs, but somehow, this position was only making her panties wetter.

When Harry asked her if she was ready to go, she quickly showed him a thumbs up before holding her wrist behind her back again.

Slowly and slowly, Harry started bringing her head back and forth by his grip on her hair. Her lips wrapped around him felt every vien as he brought her head up till his reddened tip. She managed to take a lick at his slit before he brought her down again, faster this time.

Now, her head was bobbing faster on his cock and with the way her saliva was starting to dribble down her chin, she could feel him pulsing in mouth as she hollowed out her cheeks when she hit the base.

She gagged a bit when Harry pushed in till the back of throat. And then, he quickened the pace.

He held her head in one place as she tried to swallow some of his arosual fucked into her mouth, the sounds of her gagging filling the kitchen. "Fuck- you're doing so well, darling," Harry moaned above her, creating a pace again – his eyes unable to move from the sight of strings of her saliva and his arousal moving with each bob of her head.

He fucked her mouth with a fast pace, his tips dragging along her tongue before hitting the back of her throat with each thrust. "Jesus- fuck," he choked, his hold on her head getting tighter as he began ruthlessly fucking into her mouth.

"Breath from your nose, baby," Harry told her, continuing to thrust his cock deep down her throat by now. She started gurgling on her own saliva and his precum, her arms starting to ache as tears leaked out of her eyes and she clenched around nothing, her pussy feeling like it were ready to be pounded.

"Oh lord," he grunted, slowing down his pace just when Y/n thought he was close to releasing down her throat, he brushed his hand through her hair.

Gradually, Harry pulled out of her mouth and just when she was beginning to think that something had gone wrong, Harry helped her get up on her legs.

She stumbled a bit, her legs a bit numb, and knees hurting because of the hard floor. She freed her arms then as well, holding onto his biceps as she balanced herself.

"Fuck you're such a wreck," Harry breathed, wiping away at her damp skin – not able to tell the difference between her tears and her sweat. "And because of me too," he chuckled, brushing her hair back as she caught up with her breath.

"C'mon, wanted to come down your throat, but I need something else more than that right now," Harry said as he picked her up bridal style in his arms, the veins in his biceps popping out.

"What is it?"

"Need to feel your pussy, darling."

When Harry dropped her on their bed, she immediately got up on her elbows, her knees touching but feet wide apart. "Fill me up, daddy? Want another baby," she whispered, looking at him through her lashes.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry groaned, climbing up on the bed while stroking himself. "Fucking hell – 'course I will," he told her as he sat back on his calves in front of her. "Gonna make me daddy of three, aren't you -- since you clear need one at all times, as well?" Harry teased her.

"Open your legs for me, wanna see ya." Y/n did as Harry told her and he swiped his middle finger through her folds, realizing that she was already soaking wet, ready to take him.

"Gonna give you all my babies, darling. Gonna fill you up to the brim and get you pregnant again," he rasped, lining himself against her hole, wetting his tip. "Fuckin' missed watching your belly swell up with a baby – my baby, " he said while watching himself disappear inside her pussy.

Beginning to thrust into her, Harry's hand came to knead one of her boobs. "Need to see you breastfeed a little one again – see those leaking nipples," he choked out, so turned on that he already felt close to climaxing.

"Gonna come for daddy, love?" Harry cooed at her, feeling her thighs begin to shake around his hips already. "Give it to y' husband."

Y/n lied there under him, shaking and moaning as the knot in her belly moved lower and lower. "Gonna cum- fuck –" she coughed, shaking harder as her skin felt like it was on fire when Harry started rubbing her clit.

"Come for Daddy, darling. Doing so good," Harry praised her, increasing his pace as he felt his own balls tighten. As he thumbed tighter and faster circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves, he felt her walls clenching around him.

"So good for me, so fuckin' good around me – fucking made for me," Harry grunted, feeling like he was going to combust.

"Co-coming daddy – O-Oh I'm cuming fuck-" Y/n stuttered, her back arching as Harry fucked into her pussy mercilessly. She could feel him pulsing inside her, and once he hit her g-spot again, she felt like she had been electricuted as she came on his cock.

Her cum went everywhere as Harry continued fucking into her, the bed creaking under his pace. "So good for daddy, look how much you came," he chuckled breathlessly, looking down where she had soaked him and the mattress, white strings of her cum sticking to his base.

Y/n intionally cleanched around him again, lying fucked out of her mind and breathless.

"Good girl- that's a good fucking girl," Harry cursed before he shot ropes of his cum deep in her pussy. Ramming into her pussy until she had milked him dry, he finally stopped when some of his cum started spilling out of her.

"Gonna fill you up again, make sure I put a baby in you," Harry told her as he wiped sweat off his forehead – grinning down at her when she hooked her arms under her knees, giving him full access to her pussy.

"Daddy's gonna give it to you good, sweet girl," Harry said gleefully, laughing when Y/n managed to swat at his chest.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles ff #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #smut #domrry #soft dom!harry #dom!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic recommendation #harry styles fic rec #harry styles mature #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styes blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #footballer!harry #kinktober

[cupidsdolll]

I accidentally just unfollowed and refollowed u when I went to send in prompts HAHA but pls know it was an accident!!!!! anyway 14 and 18 :))))

Sweet Loving

hahah it's okay! here you go <3.

- - - -

14 - kisses

18 - heart candies

- - - - 

“Come on, just one more!” 

Harry and Y/N have been standing in the same spot of her living room for the past ten minutes. He’s supposed to go to the store to gather a small list of groceries she needs to make dinner tonight. He has the list in hand and one arm very gently trying to pull the girl’s arm away from around him. He never leaves her without a soft and quick goodbye kiss which is how they ended up here. 

He gave her one small kiss and went to the door, but she tugged on his arm and asked for one more. He’s not one to deny such a simple request so he nodded and gave her another, which turned into five more and then five more. 

“Love, I’ve been in the same spot forever. You want this dinner, don’t you?” He asks and she immediately frowns. 

“I mean yes, but I just love you.” She says and he chuckles in response. 

She’s always been such a softie for him, always wanted to make him the happiest and always looks at him with the softest and gooeyist eyes he’s ever seen. He thinks it's always been like this, can’t remember a time where she acted anything differently towards him. He doesn’t mind it at all, he finds it quite endearing if he’s being honest. He likes that she loves him so much and always wants to show him just how much. He loves the kisses as well, it’s one of his favorite things of hers. No matter what’s happening, she’ll never leave him to do anything without kissing him gently on the lips. They’re addicting in a way, his own personal drug and encouragement. He can’t ever get enough of them and honestly, neither can she. Which is why he thinks their relationship works so well. 

Y/N huffs and stares at him, a mischievous glint passes through her eyes, but Harry doesn’t pay attention to it. He already figured she’d start trying to plan things when her pouting doesn’t work on him. 

“If you don’t love me, just say that.” She says with as serious of a face she can manage, which would almost fool him if he didn’t already see this coming. 

“You know I love you, pretty. I’ll love you always even when you’re being a bratty little thing like you are right now. I will give you all the attention you want after I go to the store and get everything you need to make food; we eat and get settled for the night. I know you must be hungry by now.” He says with a smirk on his face, he knows there’s no way she can refuse that offer. She’s never refused it before. He watches as she begins to think it over, except she’s not thinking it over. She’s stalling, trying to keep him here in her arms longer. 

A beat passes before she sighs reluctantly, and he just rolls his eyes lovingly. He knows she’s given up, that he’s won and she’s about to pull away. 

“How about I go bring you some of those cute little heart candies you like so much as well? S’been a while since we’ve had some.” He says and she immediately perks up, a bright smile seemingly lighting the room before she nods excitedly.

"You would do that? Wait, I mean, are you sure? Isn’t that candy shop across town?” She asks and he just shrugs. 

“As long as it makes my girl happy, I don’t mind. You should know this.” He says as he pulls apart from her, placing a kiss on her forehead before heading to the door once again. 

“I’ll be back in like fifteen minutes tops. I love you.” 

“I love you too. Hurry up, I’m counting the seconds.” He laughs at her dramatics before he closes the door behind him, determined to make it back before she gets done counting those fifteen excruciating minutes.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #bestie asks #harry styles fanfic #harrystyles #harry #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fluff #boyfriend!harry styles #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #valentines day #cupidsdolll love letters #harry styles baby blurbs #my writing

[demonbanger]

𝔇𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℑ’𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 |

ft. sex demon ! 𝗘𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗗 | 🌶 🔞 MDI

“𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡.” — E. Kid, to you

synopsis: on a lonely night you decide to get a bit buzzed and think, fuck it, why not try to summon a sex demon? Turns out to be either the biggest blessing, or biggest mistake you’ve made in a while.

♫: click for inspo song

pairing: Incubus! Kid x Fem! Reader (no physical description of reader, except hair that can be pulled)

cw: *inhales* demon summoning, bully Eustass, brat taming, blood + pain play, cunnilingus, drinking mention, predator x prey, breeding, dacryphilia, dumbification, belly bulge, overstimulation, praise + degradation, size kink af with our 6’7 king, use of pet names, insane stamina, gets softer at the end

tags: @goshitshardtohaveagoodname @nikos-a-clown @pinkcrystal-rose

© Writing & Imagery in this is my intellectual property. Do not plagiarize or repost to other platforms without my permission. Love, DemonBanger

______

You stuff your fingers in your dribbling pussy, but just could not get yourself full enough. You felt like such a horny bastard tonight, with so much sexual desperation, and finally decided you wanted to start masturbating again. But nothing worked like when you first started; you’ve just been single for too long and miss the feeling of real cock.

Even a dildo couldn’t do the trick anymore. You needed the real thing, with pumping veins and harsh thrusts, attached to a heavy man that pressed you into the mattress, with low grunts and dirty words moaned lowly into your ear.

You sigh in frustration and set the toys down, taking a swig out of some whiskey to let it take over more of your senses. The liquor burns so beautifully going down your throat…too bad there wasn’t another hot liquid also sinking down your oral cavity.

The familiar floaty headspace seeps in like an old friend that you keep away at arm’s length, as your heartbeat drums in your warm chest. Buzzed you feels like a dragon waking from a slumber, with old runes in the form of dumb ideas filling your brain.

“Might as well fucking summon a sex demon at this point,” you mutter. The idea rolls over in your head for a few minutes, and the curiosity of trying something crazy and reckless like this gets more and more appealing to your buzzed brain, until eventually you think: Wait. Fuck it, what if I tried it at least? You laugh to yourself.

What would you have to lose anyways? Just your soul? You don’t even feel like you have one these days until you drink good old caffeine.

You tap the safari icon on your phone, to research how one would even go about summoning an incubus, and take another swig to invite the madness more.

A few forums say the same thing. People asking if you actually want to invite such a thing into your life, some dude talking about how his wife cheated on him with one of those entities and was never the same after that. Hahah…cuck.

You scoff. You have existential crises every day, no sex demon can fuck your life up like you feel you can. Demons, where you at? It’s ya boi. You think about the meme and cackle way too hard for something so unfunny and possibly life-threatening.

Then you scroll over a comment that is long with a lot of upvotes on it. It looks serious. Seems legitimate. There are no comments underneath, but it reads like a serious spell book.

Eh, why not? You laugh again. The comment warned against masturbating beforehand to make sure your sexual energy was at its peak to really invite any sexual spirits. Welp, already fucked that up, so if this doesn’t work at least you could have something fun to do and then tire yourself out and call it a night.

Then you read how it involves extracting blood from a few…sources such as the tongue and pussy and you wonder if there’s a better way. A paper cut on any of those things sounds gross. Eek.

You look over YouTube and find the first video that pops up. The speaker sounds experienced, and says that it’s much simpler than any methods. Just make a request to the demon Asmodeus by reaching a meditative state, and adamantly focusing on his name.

Simple enough. You try and make sure your room is a little tidy, burn a couple of cutesy candles, and dress in a black spiked collar and a cute, lacey red lingerie set you got yourself a little while back. Scarlet garters hold up soft thigh highs that bring out your thighs and make your lower body look extra luscious. You take in this moment of feminine confidence. What are you? You’re a bad bitch. And what are you about do? Get fucked.

You sit prettily on your bed, take another swig of the burning drink, shake your hips in excitement, close your eyes, and make the signature meditation pose. You even put the sigil of Asmodeus on your laptop to better reach him. Look at you, doing the most. Then, you bite your lip in concentration and your buzzed brain is slow enough to focus on one thing slowly.

Asmodeus. Asmodeus. Asmodeus, are you with me? You think with intention.

Just as you thought. No answer. You continue.

Asmodeus, I know I never spoke to you in my life. I’m Y/n, I know this is silly but I don’t mind giving up some of my energy to get fucked voraciously by a demon boy. An incubus please. Is that ok?

You wait for an answer, peep at the candles. They’re just flickering normally. You try not to psych yourself into micro analyzing the movement of the little flames. Drunk you could do that all night. But you need to keep focused. Then you continue.

Hopefully it is ok, Mr. Asmodeus. I don’t know if I need to give up my blood n shit. I’m just a little drunk girl and honestly I’ve given up so much life energy to toxic exes at this point, you don’t need to warn me,, I know I’m rambling, but uh, yeah. I don’t give a fuck. But also, respectfully, make sure he wants me too. That shit’s hot. Do you even hear me at this point?

A chill up your spine stops you from thinking further. It’s such a chill that you shiver. It’s the same sensation in your nerves that you’d feel if someone ran a finger along your entire sensitive spine. Your window isn’t open.

There’s no way.

Good talk, you think. Don’t know what the fuck that was.

You sigh, keeping yourself open for answers. Maybe he’s thinking? Who knows. For a second you almost feel a little silly for getting all dressed and stuff.

Then you feel a chill up your spine, only more intense. Your hairs stand on end. It’s kind of spooky. You’re drunk though so you’re in more of a relaxed, “oh no!!! anyways” sort of mindset. But none of your windows are open and you haven’t turned on the AC all day.

You take another swig out of the bottle and your face burns. You’re sure your eyes are a bit bloodshot, face flushed. You think about what a male demon would say if he saw you. Probably something like—Put the bottle down, sweetheart.

You cackle in your mind. Sorry about that, daddy, gotta have fun.

Keep calling me that, I like it, the thought says a bit louder in your mind, purring more sexily than you’ve ever imagined a man sounding. Wait, did you make that up or are you tripping?

Dumbass.

You open your eyes again. So that was your imagination…or was it? There’s a little bit of doubt in your mind. Either way your imagination is vivid and you crack yourself up.

Damn it, you play too much, now your drunk ass can’t even tell what’s someone telepathically communicating to you and what’s you imagining someone telepathically communicating to you.

You clear your throat a little.

“Oi, am I wasting my time? Am I making this up? Give me a sign or show yourself , but don’t like scare me, or else I’m just going to sleep.” You try to speak clearly and confidently.

Your head whips around to the wall at something suddenly in your peripheral, and you notice a little area starts to glow, brighter and brighter. It’s a sigil. The same one you put on your computer moments ago. It’s very slow. Your heart feels like it’s in your fucking throat as you blink extra hard. Nope, still there. Holy fuck??

You swallow, slightly nervous besides your sense of fear being dulled down.

A gasp leaves your throat at a sudden tapping noise coming straight from the sigil. A fist punches through your wall, except not actually punching through its material. The glowing sigl must be some sort of portal. You let out a shocked squeal as the fist shakes around the air of your room. The clawed hand opens and the body attached steps out.

“The fuck was that?”

Oh lord. He’s huge. And above all else, irresistibly sexy.

The demon stands before you, towering over most of your room proudly, a wild crown of red hot hair adorning his head. The candlelight flickers wildly as he looks directly at you. His handsome features complete with sharp eyes like glowing amber surrounded by darkness, almost dragon-like. Is that…lipstick? And guyliner. Another shiver runs through you at how attracted you are to this creature from hell. You must’ve made Asmodeus laugh and scored the jackpot in return. That sharp nose.. with the pretty bumps on the side…you wonder how it would feel riding it.

He’s wearing a coat trimmed with maroon fur, that still leaves little to the imagination as his entire muscular, giant torso is bare with a sheen that accentuates carved abs, perhaps sweat because hell is hot. Black pants with chains hang low on his hips. You don’t see visible wings but are sure he can make them appear if he wanted.

Just, holy shit.

Dark maroon lips smirk. His voice is raspy, a little tired, a little indifferent, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. “So…you gonna just keep staring at me all night and get off that way, or?”

You bite your lip. He’s so fucking smug. Your pussy starts pooling more wetness than already built up.

“I-well, yeah, you just appeared through my fucking wall,” you roll your eyes, not submitting so easily. “The hell did you expect?”

The demon flashes a mouth full of beautiful, dangerous teeth.

“Pretty little minx, and a smart mouth on ya too. I guess he was right it’d be worth bothering the admiral of the legions, can’t wait to fuck the brattiness out of you.”

Black, ornate trousers that appear punk and shredded to bits sway as he steps closer to your bed.

“Oh, Careful—” you warn but one of his beautiful, tall, twisty horns hits your ceiling fan, and you find it comical how a 7 foot tall demon is cursing at hitting his left horn in your room.

His eyes squint at you. “Fucking brat. Laughing at me, not even telling me your name. I could drag a rude little mortal like you to hell and eat you alive for lack of manners,” he drawls, little to no venom in his words, his voice so deep and rich you almost get lost in it for a moment. Little does he know you want him to eat you alive.

“Oh—, I mean you’re right, sorry sir,” you spit out the sorry as sarcastically as possible, “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

He eyes your thighs clenching together and a mocking chuckle bubbles in his chest. “Name’s Kid. But you, little thing, can call me Eustass for tonight when I’m impaling you on my cock.”

A little whimper is forced out of you at how dirtily he spoke, like he made an incantation to turn you on instantly. “Eustass,” you try out, making precum drip out of him more than he’d like to admit. Your eyes flit down to his cock that he mentioned, then back up. He knows you were staring. And he’s so damn smug about it too, because the big guy’s bulge looks absolutely huge.

He looks over at the toys on your bed and scoffs, picking up your dildo, and eyeing it snarkily. Your face burns in indignation at his wolfish, leering smirk.

“Oh princess. Might as well throw these—“ he locates your trash bin, “right here. Because I’m gonna fucking ruin them for you. And you can kiss any man’s dick goodbye.” He drops your sex toys into the trash like a mic drop.

And you’re not even mad. Your thighs shift against the fabric of your bodysuit to gain any sort of friction, so turned on from imagining what’s to come.

“Yeah? You like that? I can just smell how much that turned you on. Such a pathetic, needy, desperate slut. You in heat or something?”

You can only nod your head.

He makes his way back to the bed, walking like he has all the time in the world, and you eye him for how beautiful and dangerous he is, oozing sex appeal. He also eyes you hungrily, like a starved carnivore eyeing its new living meal. Heat from hell radiates off of him, and he smells otherworldly; almost sweet; with notes of pure musk, steel, blood, leather, sweat, and desire.

(You don’t know that the pheromones you’re releasing have a similar effect on him, but he wants to make you beg and whimper; mewl, cry, break).

You take in shaky breaths, not because those fangs could rip chunks out of you if he wanted to…well, that’s hot too.

Kid grabs your bottle of whiskey from your mattress, eyeing you with pure hunger as he gets so close to you, and sets it on the floor. “That’s gonna break if it stays on your bed.” He dips his head closer to you, inhales again to smell your arousal, and his eyes roll shut.

“A-are we gonna have a safeword? I’m not paying any hospital bills if you break my body,” you finally speak up, voice pitch heightened from horniness.

He scoffs. “How fucking adorable, such a needy stupid baby, you didn’t even think before making a contract with someone who could do whatever he wants with you no?” the redhead strokes your thigh as he sounds so mean and condescending, large clawed hand gripping your upper leg, squeezing your supple flesh. His breathing is heavy. Fiery eyes peer down into your soul as he pauses.

“Spikes.” He feels your collar, humming in approval. “But just know, you signed up to be fucked. And drained.” His blackened thumb traces over your bottom lip as he holds your chin. “If you can’t handle the heat, you should know better than to booty call hell.”

“Mhmm,” you say, nodding in his hold, tongue darting out to caress his finger. Kid snarls.

Just like that, a large palm presses on your sternum and shoves you down onto the bed. He yanks you by the hips to the edge of the mattress with a bruising grip, and bucks his clothed hips into yours sharply, trouser-covered bulge slapping your pussy roughly, eliciting a whine from your throat.

“Gonna keep your neighbors up with us all night just like this,” he growls, bucking onto you, hands tracing your hips, fingers dipping under your bodysuit to caress your soaking core.

“Wet kitty, so fucking sinful.” He pulls out his fingers, separating them and admiring how your slick strings up and drips down his hand. Then, glowing eyes gaze into yours as a long, sharp, forked tongue licks your essence up, cleaning them in one stroke. You throb. He tosses his trench coat to the floor and you admire his giant, muscular body. Thick neck you want to scratch up. Giant muscles carved of porcelain and littered with scars that you want to bite and paint even prettier. A fallen angel of vermillion, ready to stab you in the dark, drag you down in lust and weeping to your personal circle of heavenly hell.

Without another word, he dips his head down and snaps the crotch of your bodysuit open leaving you with no room to think. He flattens his large, forked tongue and licks a broad, wet stripe over your sopping cunt.

“ ‘s cunny’s mine,” he breathes, and begins his attack on you with his mouth, squeezing your thighs, large tongue teasing into you.

“Yes it’s all—, ohhhh~” He pulls out and shoves two huge fingers with painted fingernails into your entrance, stretching you out and making you arch your back from the sudden stimulation, pussy smushing into his face further. He growls again, feral in nature, the vibrations going straight to your clit as he intently watches your reactions. Wide tongue lapping at your clit, swirling, making you speak in tongues and whimper at how full you are. You do not regret summoning a demon at all.

He adds a third impossibly thick finger and scissors them in and out of you, then impatiently thrusts his tongue back in to fuck you, massaging every little nook and cranny of your textured walls. Swirling up, and up, and up until your brain rots inside your skull and you’re roughly grabbing handfuls of his hair.

You hear him groan a prideful, muffled “Good girl,” as his nose bumps into your clit so snugly. Your eyes roll back at the praise. It’s too much, all of it is too much. And yet, you need more, more, more, please, please, please. His tongue hits a tender spot that makes you jolt and begins to attack it in a full-fledged assault, causing you to snap your gaze back to him and buck your hips greedily into him.

Greedy. He likes that. He likes how greedy your cunt is, because he’s just as greedy for you. Your thighs clench around his head when he shakes his face, soaked in your juices, side to side to rub your clit with his nose pressed tightly to you. “E-Eustass!” you call out for him, all strangled, and a purr rumbles in his thick chest.

In response, he only clenches your thighs tighter around his face, continuing to torture you with his pink tongue that’s long and mobile like a fucking tentacle.

You cry out as talonesque nails dig into your thighs and little pricks of blood come out, but he doesn’t care. And neither do you. You grind on him, head swimming in lust, probably only worsening the pinprick wounds. He leans back with you and completely sits down on the floor beneath, holding the entire weight of your body on top of his face with the strength of a powerful war demon.

He slides you up and down, and you tremble, spots of white flecking your vision as you ride his face, smearing your never ending slick to his insatiable delight.

His amber eyes glare at you, urging you to let go and come undone on top of him. Yet mocking you for needing to cum so soon.

And that’s what you do, shaking violently, curling over him, death grip on his scarlet tresses, as he groans at how delicious you taste. The orgasm washes over you so hard you almost fall slack, almost, as your moans fall silent from your circuits sparking. He drinks up all the essence you have to offer, lips smacking at how delicious you are, deep “Mmmhfuck” causing your nipples to perk.

He stands back up and sets you back down on the bed, unzipping his pants.

You’re lightheaded from the most amazing orgasm of your entire life, gazing at the ceiling as static fills your brain in ocean waves of dumbified pleasure.

Then your mouth gapes open at the sight in front of you. Beautifully red pubes trail right over his giant hand, fisting the biggest cock you’ve seen.

“Ngh, t-too big,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m shocked you can speak,” he laughs darkly.

“Barely,” you try to prop yourself up on your elbows, but it’s so difficult and you fall back down.

He laughs at you, humiliating you in his stare. “Such a weak kitten,” the demon mocks you in faux sympathy.

You feel as though you nutting just now made you so insanely tired.

“Just lay back, dollface, you’re giving daddy life energy as a snack. Gonna make you even prettier, so dumb you can’t even speak.”

Before you can protest, he’s spearing you with his cockhead, ripping a loud moan from your throat.

He’s merciless, as no god has shown him, a fallen angel, any mercy. So why should he, an incubus leeching off of your sexual energy, show any mercy to a cunt that’s all his and swallows him in just right.

He continues to sink into you, and your nails pay him back by digging into him now, in his meaty forearms.

Kid’s tongue darts out over his crimson lips.

“Keep,” he thrusts out slightly, admiring the way you grip him, “fucking,” he thrusts back in all the way, making you shriek, “taking it.” The pain is so much, too much, the stretch fucking burns at how large of a cock is intruding you, but he hammers into you without regards to your comfort or pleasure. He’s the one using you, fucking you like you’re his breathing flesh light, like you’re the one working for him though he’s the escort demon. Ramming in, threatening to fuck right into your cervix, overload. You’re clamping down, your walls are rejecting him. It makes him curse loudly at how hard it is for him to move, but he’s stronger than a mere human, so ever the sadist, Kid pumps in regardless.

The pain of his unrelenting, selfish thrusts starts to turn slowly into pleasure, and the fullness and overwhelming stretch feels delicious. Your mind turns dumb and you start to whine.

“M-more,” you moan, and he grabs your tit harshly, twisting your nipple painfully, making tears rush to your eyes. He does so to the other tit, then slaps them roughly. You whimper his name, back arching like an exorcism in progress. Except exiting you, this demon is not.

“Yeah? You need some more, you selfish brat?” He growls, pace deepening and quickening. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere, not until the sun is up.” His hips snap against yours, and his nails rake down your body to fold your thighs against your chest, his crushing weight pinning you to the bed. Your mattress hitting the wall. You struggle to catch the breath that’s knocked out of you in this position.

“Fucking look at me,” he suddenly jibes, and you obediently make eye contact with him. “Now don’t you dare fucking look away or quiet those pretty noises. I want to make you scream.”

He’s going at an inhuman speed, and so fucking deep in this mating press, and hits the spot that made you cum before. His balls slapping against your ass, making you scream.

“Eustass! Eustass! Please, please, please, yes, Nnnn! Please!” You beg him to keep going, as he growls, “fuck yes, beg, princess, beg for this fucking cock,” his thrusts getting sloppier as your cunt tightens around him. Your eyes roll back a little, as he’s fucking you dumb.

“Ah!!!” You yelp, as he roughly slaps your ass.

“What did I fucking tell you?” Eustass snarls, and you bite your lip, face flushed as he glowers at you.

“T-to, to uh, look at you,” you say dumbly, gasping for air.

“That’s a smart girl,” he rubs your clit, making you squirm, and he condescendingly coos down at you, “so why don’t you look at me as I wreck you, hmm?”

His body is so big, so hot, he’s so heavy and wide as your poor legs stretch to accommodate his wide shoulders while he opens you like a flower and pounds into you. He smells so fucking good, you think, and you want him to cum inside of you and claim you as his, and you struggle but do your best to keep looking into his wild eyes. He’s absolutely feral, so intimidating, and your body rocks at his severity so you grasp the base of his horns. A little moan leaves him, and if he wasn’t pressed up so close to you, flooding up all of your thoughts and walls and senses, it would have gone undetected.

A darkness takes over his eyes. “Now you’ve fucking done it,” his voice drops ever lower, and he pulls out. Flips you over onto your hands and knees, pulls your hips to face the ceiling, and bottoms back in in one thrust. The new angle has you screaming and moaning his name, “EU—fuck!!!!” You whimper loudly, and he pushes your head down into the covers.

“Yeah—this pussy—is all—fucking mine—you hear that?” he rumbles in between thrusts, slapping your ass again as he arches your back impossibly, balls slapping your cunt. You’re too dumb to understand what he’s saying and he knows that. Your slick is everywhere between the two of you and it’s making him absolutely drunk and feral.

You’re unable to speak real words, you’re babbling and you claw the sheets as he batters your insides over and over like a battering ram. Tears and drool are soaking the covers beneath you, as you moan while you let him use you. He kneads and slaps your ass again. “Look at me.” He reminds you harshly.

You weakly turn your head to look back at him, blubbering, and his pointy, evil grin sends a jolt straight to your core again.

“You’re my fucking pet, and any man you let have this,” he makes a slicing movement with his finger over his throat. “Got it?”

You’re so gorgeous, hair plastered to your forehead and all wild, face flushed and teary, eyelashes fluttering up at him, gasping, as you whimper, “y-yes, Eustass, I belong to you,” and his deep thrusts slow luxuriously.

“Good girl,” he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up until your back meets his sweaty inferno of a chest. He rubs more circles on your puffy, abused clit and you squirm from the buzzing overstimulation of another impending orgasm. He eats up how you clench around him, and as your head spins dizzily from him still thrusting up into you deeply, he sinks his teeth into your right shoulder, claiming you.

You cry out weakly from the pain, and spasm around him like a voodoo victim and he lazily fucks you through your second orgasm, enjoying how you make a mess all over his hand.

“Oh, that’s so sexy,” he groans, lapping at the blood on your shoulder, as you squirt all over his arm, and his cock is absolutely drenched, dripping down to his balls. He moans and with a few more thrusts, stills. He fills you up with hot cum.

The giant incubus turns you both around, you still out of breath, dumb, on his cock. “Look here.” He says, like Virgil from Dante’s Inferno showing the writer the lustful circle of hell.

You peer at your reflection in the mirror. You, so fucked out, almost unrecognizable, crying, glowing, lips plump from biting them. A huge bite mark on your shoulder. Bruised hips. Both of you scratched up with a little bit of blood. Legs shaking as you’re sitting pretty on his cock, a bulge evident in your tummy. His huge hands encircling you, him, possessively overshadowing you. He’s so much bigger than you, his width eclipsing you in the reflection.

You lean your head back tiredly. He whispers lowly into your ear. “ ‘M only just getting started with you, but look at how pretty you are as my pet, yeah? This is what I’m gonna see every single night, aren’t you excited?”

You tiredly turn your head to smoosh into his pillowy chest, his smell overpowering your senses, and you look up to him. “This is all I need,” you whisper back.

He sets you down on wobbly legs and holds you up a little. He cups your jaw in his giant hand, and the white of his canines shines. His lipstick is slightly smeared. He looks gorgeous, sinister, a glowing star of red, black, amber, and pale skin.

Then he kisses you, in a way that’s startlingly soft and passionate, in his ferocious way because Eustass is, well, Eustass. He pulls away, eyes glittering darkly.

“That’s the right response, darling.”

———————————————————————-

TO BE CONTINUED 🏴‍☠️ -> part 2!

#[✏️] speaking in tongues #demon papí draws #eustass kid smut #eustass kid x fem reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece x female reader #one piece smut #op smut #zoro smut #sanji smut #law smut #ace smut #Luffy smut

[lovelybrooke]

yay for the hades fandom getting hyped up! your self-aware concept for this game is genuinely fantastic, i can't get enough of it. i really can't think of sufficient praise, you characterize everybody so well, it meshes wonderfully with canon.

how about a scenario for zagreus (+ other characters of your choice) reacting to the player/reader coming back after a long period of inactivity? or how they felt during said absence?

(totally not inspired by me not touching the game for almost a year until this recent technical test came out, hahah)

This is just a quick overview of the House of Hades members and the Olympians, not the side characters. If you want me to cover them I will in another post.

masterlist

---

The members of the House of Hades are the most worried when it comes to your inactivity, mainly because it affects Zagreus. Escape attempts don't stop just because you're not there, but it's obvious that he's a mess. He is short with people, more aggressive, and is getting himself killed more and more. Most of the occupants don't say anything, mainly out of fear for what the prince might do. But others, like Achilles, are more willing to point out his poor behavior. It's like he's a child who's lost his favorite toy. Achilles of course, also senses your absence, but he chooses to remain hopeful. This isn't the first time this has happened, you tend to come and go as you please, but you eventually come back. He can't help but worry though, maybe something has happened to you, maybe your absence is more permanent this time. He chooses not to think about that too often. Others like Nyx and Hades are more neutral about your absence, they are like Achilles in the sense that they try not to think about it too much, but in reality it's more complicated then they'd like to admit. They are both ancient beings, and it's worrying to see someone worm their way into their consciousness so easily. Love isn't the correct word, they can't exactly explain how they feel, but your absence has made them think more and more about what you mean to them, and it grows deeper and deeper every single day. Thanatos and Hypnos are more observant than others would think. They both sense the change in Zagreus pretty early on and are able to trace it back to the lingering presence of you. They learned early on that you were mysterious, your presence almost distant in a way. It was hard for them to feel you in the way Zagreus did, so when you left they didn't notice at first. It wasn't until the prince started acting up that they realized something must've changed. Hypnos attempts to distract Zag from everything through jokes and teasing, while Thanatos tends to be more blunt, demanding that Zag fix his attitude, however, while doing this, they're both struggling with lingering thought of you, wondering where you went and how you're faring . Others like Meg and Dusa are even affected by it, Meg especially. She's often more subjected to Zagreus's bad moods than others, since he becomes more brutal in his escape methods. Dusa already does everything in her power to avoid the prince, so lucky she isn't really facing Zagreus often. 

Once you return, things go relatively back to normal. Things are definitely still different, namely people are now more aware what the consequences are for you leaving. Zagreus makes an attempt to apologize for his--less than normal behavior, but for most it's already forgiven. None of them are exactly normal when you're gone, the House is hollow and clearly missing something. For a while, many of them assume it's Zagreus, his sudden shift affecting the mood of the House. Eventually they realize that it's deeper than that, and that you are at the center of it all. Many of them wonder if you're even aware of what is going on when you leave, if you're aware of the mess you leave them in. Regardless, it doesn't matter much once you're back. They all put in an effort to make everything seem normal in the hope that you won't leave again, or at least for not nearly as long. 

The Olympians

The Olympians have a much more different opinion on your absence. I don't know if I explained this anywhere, but in my head, the Olympians have a closer connection to you because of their ability to give Zagreus boons. These affinities become temporarily a part of Zagreus, and so it's a strange way of bringing you closer to them, since technically your presence is strongest in Zagreus. I don't know if I explained this well, but all you need to know is that they sense your absence much sooner, possibly right after Zagreus. Some of them, namely the older ones such as Zeus and Poseidon are less worried about your absence. Honestly, they find it funny how worried Zagreus is for you, this isn't the first time you've gone away, you should be back soon. The Olympians have a small scene of your otherworldly presence, and so are kinda able to assume that this is more than just randomly disappearing. Hermes and Dionysus take a more playful outlook, believing that it's a trick you're playing on all of them. Again, the Gods have more of a laidback outlook, if they thought you were in any danger they would act. The rest are more or less neutral about your disappearance, more worried about how it affects Zagreus. He's reckless, and while that means more fun for them, it means that he's more likely to die over and over and over, and no one wants to see that happen to family, even it they're used to it. 

Even though the Olympians are neutral about you being gone, they are overjoyed to see you back. I imagine that they are the few in game characters where it's obvious they are addressing you, the others are more subtle. So once you return they are actively addressing you. They know you aren't going to respond, so they don't do this often, but it's good to know you're back. At least now Zagreus will be getting back to normal.

#soft yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #self aware hades #yandere hades game #yandere hades #zagreus hades #hades game

[salty-croissants]

Heya! Just hear me out:

When their s/o buys matching hoodies (w/ Bullfrog & Rayman/Ramon)

Thank you for the request ! 

This is a really wholesome and original idea of a prompt , I really enjoyed writing it :D

I apologize for the long wait , but it’s been a very , very busy week , and I’ve been feeling a bit too tired to write anything the past days … sorry about that ;( 

Anyway , I hope this turned out okay ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Bullfrog 💚

When you come back home and show him the matching hoodies you got while you were outside , Bullfrog is definitely very surprised : 

I honestly don’t think he has ever received something like this as a gift , so expect him to be especially enthusiastic .

< Merci beaucoup my dear , it looks so nice ! > 

< Haha , you’re welcome sweetie ! 

I just couldn’t help myself : the idea of sharing some matching clothing with you sounded amazing to be honest ~ > 

This frog will have the brightest smile on his face when you’re both wearing the matching hoodies … 

He just can’t stop gushing about how much he likes his and just how cute you look in yours , it never fails to make you smile ://)

The other Ghosts have seen you two with the matching hoodies occasionally , and while Dolph thinks it’s … well , maybe a bit too cheesy , Jade definitely supports you both , even suggesting more matching clothing you could get … 

< Oh - you guys should definitely try wearing these ! 

I think you’d look super cute in them ! > 

< *sigh* … please don’t encourage this . > 

It’s especially nice when you’re in the safety of your home , cuddling under the comforting warmth of the hoodies and just enjoying each other’s company …

< y/n , thanks again for this hoodie … I just love it ! >

< Don’t mention it … I just really wanted to do something nice for you , y’know ?

If anyone deserves that , it’s you . >

< Aw , venez ici mon amour ~ > 

< Heyy - hahah , that tickles honey ! ~ > 

Rayman 🧡

To say that Rayman is happy about your gift would be an understatement : 

the fact that you decided to surprise him with a matching hoodie just to see him smile is enough to make his daily stress caused by his job disappear for a few precious minutes … 

< So uh , do you like it ? I wasn’t sure about the color at first , I thought it might be a bit too much , but these were the last matching hoodies they had left , and - > 

< Like it ? 

y/n , I love it ! You couldn’t have chosen better ! > 

Rayman is already a big fan of spoiling you , so as soon as he understands that you’re into matching clothing you better believe that he’s going to buy you a lot more of them in the future … maybe exaggerating a little sometimes , but he just wants to do all he can to make you feel loved and appreciated .

< Woah - Ray what happened ? You look like you just bought an entire store ! > 

< Uff - it’s okay ,  I just gotta carry these inside … gimme a second … > 

< Hold on , let me help you …

I really appreciate you getting me all these gifts honey , but maybe don’t get so many next time : I don’t want you to hurt yourself carrying them around ! > 

< Heh … you’re right , you’re right …

I just couldn’t help myself : you deserve all the best things I could possibly give you . > 

< Pfft … you’re always so sweet , thank you ~ > 

< Anything for you , y/n ~ > 

When you’re separated during the day , Rayman likes to carry his hoodie with him and keep it by his side when he’s at work : just looking at it makes him feel so happy to have a loving partner like you , you truly are the best thing that’s ever happened to him ❤️

He loves it whenever the two of you are outside wearing the matching hoodies , it’s like a nice little way of showing to everyone around that his heart belongs to you and you alone … 

Also if you ever feel worried about him getting embarrassed by it , Rayman is quick to make your anxiety go away . 

< That’s nonsense darling … this isn’t just any hoodie , it’s a gift from you , and that makes it all the more special : I could never get embarrassed by it ! > 

Ramon 🖤

Okay , so Ramon might get … pretty worried at the thought that you went to buy something , especially without him : 

he’s the one who is supposed to watch over you , plus Eden knows who you are … they could’ve taken the opportunity to capture you and do horrible things to you .

… however , he can’t bring himself to be actually angry . 

< I’m sorry Ram … I just wanted to do something nice for you , you’ve been looking down lately and I thought … > 

< No - no no , I like the hoodie y/n , I do … it was very sweet of you to do this for me .

Still , please remember that Eden is on the hunt for us , you can’t just go outside without a way to protect yourself . 

Just … be more careful next time , okay ? 

I love you , and I can’t bare the thought of you getting hurt … > 

< I love you too , sweetie … I’ll be more careful , I promise . > 

Sometimes , Ramon is going to hold the hoodie and just … stare at it , quietly reflecting to himself : 

you put your life on the line to get it for him … you risked getting hurt , all to give him a gift that could make him happy … 

While that thought worries him , he just can’t help but smile a little in front of your sheer dedication to make him smile .

It can get very cold in the hiding place you’re both staying in , so you and Ramon definitely cuddle while wearing the hoodies : 

they’re so warm and cozy … they really make those little moments of affection even better . 

< Are you comfortable like this , y/n ? >

< Mhm … couldn’t be better ~ >

It’s not rare for you to stumble upon a sleeping Ramon using the hoodie as a blanket , and he just looks … so cute ;//; 

He often has trouble sleeping , so having your gift so close to him definitely helps him relax … not as much as actually holding you , of course , but it’s still nice ! 

#captain laserhawk #x reader #bullfrog x reader #rayman x reader #bullfrog captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk bullfrog #captain lazerhawk rayman #captain lazerhawk bullfrog #rayman #gender neutral reader

[shiningfremi]

freminet headcanons + extra drabbles!

romance, personality, and tidbits!

- deep down, he always wanted to become a diving instructor. how could he keep the oceanic scenery and adventure to himself? but he believes his introverted behavior holds him back :*(

- when he becomes close to you, he will become a whole snuggle bug, and will ask to cuddle whenever you guys are alone together~!

- his room is super well decorated. a bunch of adorable stuffed animals on his bed, stunning photographs and posters on his wall, and why, penguin decor of course! he also has a plentiful amount of seashells and souvenirs from his explorations.

- freminet's love for cuddling applies to hugs as well. I already know he gives the best hugs there is! he holds you tight, and whenever you're sad and in need of comfort, he quietly listens and delicately rubs your back.

𓆡 🪼 𓇼 𓆝

you began to cry harder than you already were upon receiving freminet's touch.

"shh, shh.. I'm here, love. I'm here. i will stay here with you for however long you need." he promised you in a calming voice.

🌊𓆉🐚

- he gets startled quite easily. freminet is definitely not a fan when he is suddenly crept up on! lyney often surprises him in this way, being the magician he is.

- freminet has a habit of biting his nails. he even moves onto the skin.. poor thing. because of this, he lets you paint his nails at times to steer him away from the biting, and he tries his best as to not ruin the polish.

- he is very mechanically inclined. he will even make a toy just like pers for you, any animal you desire! he absolutely adores your reaction to his creations! it inspires him to keep on creating them. :)

- he absolutely LOVES sleepovers! the fun of doing skincare routines and face masks together, the glow in your eyes as he listens in on the stories you tell, and if you fall asleep first, he hums a gentle lullaby, only ever loud enough to be a whisper~

- freminet can get overwhelmed from crowds and excessive questions, and so he relies on you in certain social situations. he is also more of a sensitive person, and avoids unnecessary conflict. if you catch anyone saying something about freminet, even one negative aspect, you are on the front lines to defend him!

- his eyelashes are very long. and I mean, long. you always compliment him on how pretty they are, and when you first met him, you accidentally glanced at them for too long.. oops!

- this boy is super duper ticklish. if you even slightly brush your hand against his ticklish spots, he bursts out in laughter. you love seeing him so giggly, so you do it whenever possible! >:D

𓆡 🪼 𓇼 𓆝

"AHAHA!! stop, stop!" he'd roll around on the ground, making helpless attempts to run away.

"never~! your laugh is music to my ears!" you genuinely appreciated this rare break from his day to day personality.

"I- y/n- HAHAH!" freminet loved being with you, so perhaps he could allow it just this once.. goodness, how could you get him into this situation~? (≧∇≦)

🌊𓆉🐚

- he has never been caught swearing. ever. nor has he ever shown a great amount of anger towards anyone. oh no, he wouldn't dare. freminet prefers to get all of his emotions out underwater, where he cannot be heard..

- freminet is a great cook. like sir, everything you create is delicious! and of course, his favourite dishes to whip up would be some variety of seafood.

𓆡 🪼 𓇼 𓆝

"y/n, which sauce do you think tastes better? or if you don't like them, please tell me.." he'd present to you a tiny spoonful of each, shyly inching forward.

after you take a sample of both of them, you gleefully express your opinion.

"I love them both! it would be delicious no matter what you make." you assure him.

🌊𓆉🐚

- he is very closed off. this goes back to how he feels about diving with others. he doesn't want to do a bad job, and is filled with the overwhelming fear of doing so. when you finally dive with him for the first time, he is like a completely different person. he effortlessly guides you through the depths of the sea, taking great attention to your status, your favorite sights and sea creatures, and freminet constantly checks up on you to make sure that you're comfortable.

𓆡 🪼 𓇼 𓆝

"freminet.. you're fantastic at this! you would be an amazing guide for new divers. I loved experiencing this opportunity with you." you mention, whilst a huge smile is plastered on your face.

"a-ah, no no y/n, you flatter me. I'm much more useful as a surveyer.. there are plenty more skilled individuals out there. im really not much.." he'd sadly reply, his expression seeming awfully distant.

"i see. you may think that, freminet, but in my eyes.. you're very talented. I think you have more to offer than you may believe, so don't be so hard on yourself." you'd reply, your gaze softening.

freminet paused for a moment upon hearing your kind words. his lips formed a subtle crescent upward, and his cheeks were dusted in a deep blush.

"thank you, y/n. you have no idea how much your words truly mean to me."

🌊𓆉🐚

#freminet x reader #freminet #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #freminet fluff #genshin headcanons #fontaine

[not-magdi]

First Kiss

Warnings: None / sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to proofread it currently

Words: 1.3k

Reading Time: 5min 20 sec

A/N

I've had this in my drafts fo sooo long now it's unbelievable. But I'm done now so yeyyy!! Hope you enjoy it

Love you guys, Magdi

To celebrate Barça's win and Pablo's reappearance at the stadium today, Pedri invited the whole team to a get-together at his house after the game. And like every time Pablo got invited somewhere, he asked you to come with him as his plus one.  

You were always Pablo's plus one at any event, it didn't matter if it was a fancy gala or a simple team dinner, you were always by his side, and you never really gave it much thought. 

"Y/N, hurry up!" Pablo screamed from downstairs. You had to drive to Pedri's house as Pablo still wasn't allowed to, which meant he had been waiting for the last 30 minutes for you to get ready. 

"Jesus Christ! I'm comming, ok!" Adding the last bit of shimmer to your eyes, you make your way downstairs, completely missing the way Pablo's eyes nearly pop out as he sees you. 

You see. Pablo has been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out for about a year now, but every time he comes close to telling you, he chickens out. Because the last thing he wants is for a lifelong friendship to end just because of an immature crush. 

So, for the last year, all of your friends had to painfully watch how you two would pin after each other. Then, contrary to Pablo's belief, you weren't any better than him. The slight difference between you is that your crush has been going on since you were twelve. 

You managed to hide your feelings pretty well, or so you thought. The truth was everybody knew you liked Pablo except himself. Which was pretty confusing for everybody as you were "Looking at him with heart eyes," in Aurora's words. 

Anyways, back to now. After some slight arguing over what music you should play, you finally drove off. The car ride was silent, not an uncomfortable kind of silence, more a comforting kind. You were both recharging your social batteries again before meeting his teammates. 

Something you and Pablo have in common is not being the most talkative on the planet, you two prefer to be affectionate rather than talk someone's ear off.  

*Timeskip cause I'm lazyy* 

After arriving, Fermín dragged Pablo away, wanting to talk about "football stuff". You didn't mind it, knowing Pablo missed his teammates terribly, so you let him be, getting yourself something to drink and sitting down next to Pedri, who greeted you with a big smile.

"Y/n! It's so good to see you! How are you doing?" 

You fell into a relaxed conversation with Pedri about his season, how his brother is doing and many other things. You were finishing your fourth drink when Pedri bid his goodbye to find Ferran, you gave him a lazy smile and said bye. 

You start to feel the alcohol in your system and decide to look for Pablo. You haven't seen him since you arrived, and that was 3 hours ago. With a slight sway in your walk, you make your way around the house, trying to find him. 

You nearly gave up, wanting to call him instead, you saw him outside, sitting on a lounge chair with Fermín deep in conversation. Carefully opening the door, you step out, sneaking up behind Pablo to scare him.  

"Hey guys!" 

"Ahh ... Dios Y/N!" 

Pablo nearly falls out of his seat, screaming like a little girl. Fermín still sits in his chair, holding one hand to his chest, looking at you with a shocked face. You, on the other hand, nearly fall over laughing, holding onto the wall beside you. 

"Oh my god! Y-you guys should have seen your faces, hahah!" 

Sitting up again, Pablo looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, grumbling something under his breath. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you." 

Fermín starts to laugh when he sees your shocked expression. "Excuse me! I'm awesome!"  

Pablo raises his eyebrows at you and says nothing, his expression already tells you enough. 

You cuddle yourself next to Pablo on the lounge chair and throw your legs on Pablo's lap. Almost naturally, his hands find your legs and start to stroke them. 

You two completely miss how Fermín watches the whole scene with a knowing smile, too engrossed in each other to notice anything. 

------

It was currently half past twelve at night, and at some point, the topic of the conversation changed to first kisses. 

You now know that Fermín had his first kiss under the bleachers of their old training grounds as children. You laughed at him for the next ten minutes, asking if it could be even more cliché. 

"Okok, stop laughing. Was your first kiss any better?" You heard Fermín ask between your giggles. 

"How should I now. I never had one." You just blurted out casually. 

"What!!" Both men screamed in unison.

You were startled by their sudden exclamation nearly falling back with your chair. 

"Dios mio, what's wrong with you two?!" 

Fermín was the first one to find his voice again, "So you're telling me that you never kissed anybody in your entire life? Like ever?" 

Taking a sip of your beer, you answer, "Jep, never." 

Both men now look at you like they've seen a ghost, mouth hanging wide open, eyes staring into your soul. 

"Guys it's no big deal really, calm down." You couldn't contain your laughter any longer as you kept looking into their faces, they looked absolutely ridiculous. 

After a few minutes they calmed down again and the conversation flowed easily, well you and Fermín talked, Pablo kept quiet the whole time looking like he was lost in his own world. 

-----

After some time, Fermín left, mumbling something about being way too cold. You didn't pay him much attention your focus shifted to Pablo a long time ago. 

After Fermín left, there was silence between you and Pablo, not an uncomfortable one, more a comforting and calm one. 

"Is it true that you've never been kissed?" Pablo breaks the silence. 

"Yes, you idiot, why would I lie about something like this?" You laugh at his question.

"I don't know, the tequila scrambeled my brain." 

Giggling, you throw your legs over his and make yourself more comfortable. 

"You know, I've always imaged you would be my first kiss." 

You were talking so quietly Pablo thought he heard you wrong, but he realised quickly what you said and looked at you with a gaze you couldn't read. 

"Why did you never tell me?" 

"Well, what did you want me to say? Hi Pablo, nobody ever kissed me. And I know we have known each other since we were 5 but would you want to? Yeah right." 

"I would have ..." 

Looking up from your lap, you see his brown teddy bear eyes looking at you. 

"Wha-" 

"I would have kissed you." 

His tone and his expression told you he meant what he said. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or something else, but a wave of confidence hit you, which led you to ask him, "Would you also kiss me now?" 

Pablo said nothing but started to lean in, grabbing your chin with his hand and making you look into his eyes. 

"I would love to." He whispered before leaning in, softly connecting his lips with yours.

The feeling of Pablo's soft lips against yours was addicting. You never wanted it to stop, ever again.

Sadly, the lack of air in your lungs made you two pull away from each other, taking a deep breath while gazing into each other's eyes. 

"And, was that ok for your first kiss?" 

"Ok, it was magical!" You exclaimed, linking your hands behind his neck. 

"That's good because I was not planning to stop at one kiss. Is that ok with you?" 

A blush made its way onto your cheeks as you heard him say that, nodding you hide your burning cheeks in the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, I'd really like that." 

"Good, then come here." 

-------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!! ❤️

#pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi oneshot #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x y/n #gavi x you #fc barcelona #spain #barca

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

love all your thoughts on eridan so much!! ive had erikar as a passive concept in my head since i started slowly rereading homestuck, bit i never invested as much thought into it...it makes a LOT of sense.

very curious on your thoughts on eridan and nepeta, if you have any? i dont really see much around of the two of them and how they may act around each other (most likely because, iirc, they have basically no substantial interaction in the comic....) but its a concept ive twisted around in my head a little.

Hahah, one of my friends is a Nepeta roleplayer, so we have hashed this OUT. Basically, I think if they talked a bit more, under the right circumstances, they might try pitch for a bit, but resolve to normal friendship. TL;DR, at the end of the day, they just don't really have anything to particularly hate about each other, or to particularly love, but I think they'd make for really good friends actually, if Eridan gets his shit together and Nepeta comes out of her shell a little more. She might wind up having to play auspice for him because... he has a lot of problems... and as a Heart player, with more proximity to him, she'd realize "oh, wait, he's not that bad, hes just mentally fucking ill," and there are people on the team who would not give him that kind of grace.

Flushed is pretty canonically off the table - despite having hit on her several times, Eridan seems to have accepted the rejection, and Nepeta herself comments that it always came off as "cr33py and insincere", which it probably was - he's clearly not over Feferi, and has a kind of "please god anyone would be fine I just don't want to be alone" vibe. Nepeta is definitely looking for more sincerity than that, and although Eridan's Type is very much cheerful, bubbly, nice girls (what he thinks Feferi is), I think they're pretty incompatible overall.

His antics and Emotional Issues would probably be super taxing on Nepeta long-term, he'd wind up in a million fights with protective Equius (Eridan is a crazed murderer even just objectively), and he's really not a particularly kind or pleasant person.

Meanwhile, although he's basically willing to go along with anything that'll get him attention, I think he'd be very puzzled by Nepeta's expectations that he do Romantic Things, or otherwise adhere to certain romantic tropes and social norms, which he can't do; when this inevitably leads to hurt feelings, his response to perceived danger is "fight," so he'd probably end up making it worse. So! Flushed is flushed. Down the load gaper, I mean.

Trying on pitch, I think if Nepeta was already a little bit out of her shell - say, Equius has died, or she's otherwise locked in a SGRUB dungeon with him, or something like that - she and he would come to blows over Eridan's performative casteism. Nepeta's the anti-casteism troll, after all, and if she's worked up enough, she's quite spirited and opinionated, and Eridan is down for anything, so it would be something I can absolutely see forming.

Actually, hilariously, when my friend and I RP'd this out, Nepeta wound up with a pitch crush, and Eridan wound up with a FLUSHED crush, because he was THAT BAD at differentiating between good and bad attention. Nepeta was totally floored, she was like, dude i was calling you stupid and terrible??? how the fuck did you interpret that as FLUSHED??? and eridan was like i dont know... maybe... i might have mental illness......

The problem is, I don't see their pitched dalliance lasting, for two main reasons - the first is that Eridan wouldn't hate Nepeta long-term, even if he can work up some caliginous energy because he's desperate; she's too genuinely nice and kind and he loves nice and kind people. Similarly, Nepeta wouldn't be able to hate Eridan the more she got to know him - since he's kind of the least casteist highblood, despite his initial impression, she would lose her fundamental reason for opposing him, and would instead start going "oh god, hes so traumatized, he's like that because he's really messed up inside."

The second is because I think they're dangerous for each other, physically. Eridan is a volatile highblood with severe emotional problems and a bodycount in the thousands, and Nepeta is very reckless in the face of danger; I can genuinely see them going a little too hard and Eridan getting a bit of a highblood buzz and winding up severely injuring Nepeta, which he would feel completely fucking terrible about, and then not allow himself to ACT like he feels terrible about it. Even if they stay in the relationship, it would kill his vibe, since when he isn't on an outright murder spree, he doesn't want to hurt his friends ("wwhat kind of friend wwould i be"). And that's not even factoring in how much EQUIUS would flip out over it.

I also don't think Nepeta is particularly equipped to deal with Eridan's problems, even if she does recognize and sympathize with them more than most on their team. Although she'd have more success than others, I think it'd leave her exhausted, because Eridan is exhausting. A Heart player obsessed with true feelings and sincerity and genuineness is just a bad match for the kid who's 90% façade.

So, ultimately, I think they'd resolve to really good friends, and Nepeta might wind up being a middle leaf for Eridan in an auspicetism situation, since Eridan... tends to draw aggro, and Nepeta at least would care about him enough that she doesn't want to see him get killed (even in the comic, as Nepetasprite, she expresses sadness that Eridan is dead, although she doesn't seem to know about his murders).

Eridan is also a roleplayer, lest we forget, and if Nepeta is able to draw out rare flashes of genuineness, they do have a bunch in common - she could commiscerate with him over the thrill of the hunt (although she'd have to be careful not to get too into the weeds about the, uh, Troll Murder aspect), RP with him (in a safe environment), or gossip about romance. They're both pretty painfully sincere people at their core, so while I ultimately don't see them being particularly romantically compatible, I do really love the idea of them being close friends. If only Eridan didn't always make things Fucking Weird.

And also since I really love pitch FefNep, Nepeta becoming friends with Eridan would help fuel her hate dates with Feferi - ":33 < do you even realize how messed up killing lusii fur YOU left him???" "W)(at would you )(ave preferred, t)(at my lusus went )(ungry and krilled everybody? 3X0"

#eridan ampora #homestuck #nepeta leijon

[rootbeerworshiper]

Summer (part 2/3)

Reader x Matt Sturniolo

summery: Summer camp has always been your favourite thing, but as you enter you last year at the camp, as a councillor, you meet someone that changes everything.

warnings: so long omg sorry LMAO, mention of suicide, just so much fluff

alsooooo definitely accidentally posted this when i had already written like half of it and i’ve been writing it while it’s private so it will most likely be far down on my page hahah

part 3 here

love, sienna <3

surprisingly you slept well last night—between the noisy children and Matt intruding your every thought, you weren’t sure it was possible.

you can’t get him out of your mind, his eyes, his sudden kindness—his hands.

yeah you were obsessed with some guys hands, that’s how perfect he is.

camp is only a week long, which doesn’t really leave you enough time to muster up enough courage to actually do anything with him—but that does not mean you won’t be thinking about it.

he’s the kind of person that has so many layers, like a complex character in a novel—you just want to know everything about him.

looking at him is nice too—you can’t get the image of him by the fire out of your mind.

never in your life did you think you’d become so infatuated with someone who’s currently avoiding juvie, but here you were, journaling every waking thought you have about him.

normally you’d tell Amara, but for whatever reason a part of you wants to keep Matt to yourself. he’s the one thing in your life that makes you interesting and the moment Amara sees him you’re sure he’ll switch his gaze towards her—most boys do.

maybe you were interested in Matt purely because he approached you first, another thing that usually happens to your best friend.

whatever it was, it’s slightly embarrassing.

the two of you had one civil conversation and you’re already head over heels.

as much as you’d love to sit here and daydream about Matt, you are a councillor and you do have a job to do.

so you muster up the energy at 7:30am to wake up all the kids as they begin to get ready for breakfast.

you yourself also have to get ready, which feels like a task in it self because now you had something to look good for—well you had someone.

taking out your braids from the day prior, you brush through your curls that are now more defined than usual.

you’re grateful they aren’t frizzy, the world being on your side for once in your life.

a mental battle ensues on whether or not you should apply makeup. normally you wouldn’t. you usually don’t even pack any, but for the time being you’ll do anything to be more desirable, especially next to Amara.

the kids are finally ready and so are you, now just wearing your red councillor t-shirt and white linen shorts that you thrifted a while ago, along with a few bracelets you had made at prior years at camp.

you along with the campers put on your shoes before walking outside, the feeling of your black converse sinking into the gravel that resides outside your cabin combined with the smell of the morning brought you serenity that was truly incomprehensible.

with that you begin the walk to the dining hall once more, trying to avoid rubbing your sleepy eyes as to not smear your freshly applied mascara.

the menu for breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs and french toast which had your kids jumping up and down at the thought of.

you were just grateful that councillors were allowed coffee in the morning—maybe you didn’t sleep as well as you thought. it was hard to tell how much of the dreaming you were awake for.

instinctively, you look around for familiar faces. you and Amara hadn’t really spoken last night after the fire, just a goodnight text and her saying that she has to catch you up on her life—she always does.

its clear when you spot Amara she has a pounding headache, you have a talent for telling when she’s hung over—and yet she still looks like she’s straight off the runway.

you don’t know why your thoughts of jealousy had gotten so bad recently, but for whatever reason it was overtaking you.

there’s no time to look around for Matt as you begin placing food onto your paper plate, asking the kitchen staff for a coffee with cream and sugar.

momentarily you forget about him, caught up in the mess your campers were making and smiling as they grin ear to ear alongside you.

that is until you see him again. somehow he got more beautiful.

you could tell that he was also tired by the way he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sipped on his coffee, but nonetheless you were infatuated with him.

something about the way he was so incredibly good with kids caused your heart to do actual backflips. it’s hard to even tell he was forced to be here from the way he lets the kids tease him and pull on his clothes.

the sight is too funny not to laugh at but the moment his eyes meet yours from across the room your focus changes to your plate.

it was probably incredibly obvious how obsessed with him you were, and you were sure he’s used to it.

the itinerary for the day is basically every activity you can think of, including rock climbing, archery, arts and crafts, swimming and more.

the way it all works is that two cabins are paired together and each day they complete two of many activities.

you knew that your activities were rock climbing and crafts, but you weren’t sure what cabin you would be paired with.

the camp leader begins to list the pairings, and slowly, there is less options for you to be put with.

“and lastly councillors y/n and councillor Matt’s cabins will be paired!” the leader says enthusiastically.

you weren’t sure how you felt about this.

sure, you can spend more time with the boy you can’t get off of your mind, but on the other hand you fear the more time you spend with him, the more likely you are to scare him away.

so for a moment you’re anxiety kicks in, thinking about what your going to say to Matt, how to not make a fool of yourself in front Matt, or how-

Matt.

you’re eyes meet his once more. now lingering longer than before.

he’s the first to break the eye contact, chuckling to himself as he begins to assist his campers in putting everything away.

butterflies enter your stomach immediately, one small smile from him is all that it took.

as much as you’d love to stay in this spot forever, watching him, you have to assist your own campers with their sticky plates and interesting questions.

once everyone has poured out of the dining hall and into the open area, the cabins are split into their respective groups.

you don’t say anything to Matt at first, paralyzed by the fear of making it awkward, so you just sort of… stand next to each other.

“how’d you sleep?” he asks, catching you off guard as you bring your gaze towards him.

he’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches or so, but you still had to look up slightly to make eye contact.

somehow, you muster up the courage to speak. “it was okay, kids were pretty loud till like midnight and then i got asked about 4 times to walk people to the bathroom so you know” you kick the rocks beneath your feet, looking down at them to avoid eye contact. “you?”

“it was pretty weird sleeping in a room full of ten year old boys so not a lot of sleeping happened for me” you both look up to see that it’s time to head to your activities, the first of which being rock climbing.

as councillors you didn’t have to actually rock climb, just assisting the kids in getting their gear on and such.

other than a few stolen glances between you and Matt, nothing really happens, and there’s not enough time inbetween kids climbing for anymore small talk.

after every kid has gone, you’re about to begin heading over to the craft area when one of Matt’s campers speaks. “Matt and y/n you should do a rock climbing race!” he says enthusiastically, earning cheers of agreement from practically every other camper.

you and Matt immediately look to one another and before you can even say no to the kid he smiles. “sure, it’ll be fun” your breath practically hitches at his words but you’re in no position to say no.

so you swallow your pride. “okay sure. Matt you are so on”

the two of you walk over as the station leader assists you into your harnesses. “you’re all set” she smiles at you.

as you and Matt lined yourselves up you were met with an abundance of cheers from the campers.

the one leader now speaks again, this time counting down. “on your mark”

you look to Matt and he has the cheesiest smile on his face, one you haven’t been able to witness until now.

“get set”

he looks back to you, but doesn’t hold the eye contact long as he looks back up at he wall ahead, and you do the same—it’s unlike you to lose to a boy because you’re too busy staring at him.

“go!” she waves her hand dramatically as you and the boy to your left begin climbing up the wall.

rock climbing was one of your favourite activities growing up at camp, and up until this point you hadn’t lost a race to anyone.

so here you are, putting in your full effort as you scale the wall, Matt continuing to keep up with you.

this goes on for a moment longer until you go and reach for the bell at the top, feeling victorious.

the feeling doesn’t last long because another hand comes into your line of sight, reaching for the same string.

you tied.

ten years of winning every race and you’ve now tied for the first time.

the bell rings and everyone below you cheers as you look to Matt—it’s hard to be mad at anyone that looks that good. “good game” you say as you begin to make your way down the wall, reaching your hand out to shake his.

he reaches for your hand and does the same. “same to you” you try your best to avoid the way his hand makes you want to melt, focusing now and getting down to the grass that awaits you below.

_______________________________________________

the rest of the day is pretty standard, and after arts and crafts you had new beaded bracelets to add to your growing collection.

dinner goes smoothly too, and by the evening the kids have full control over what they wish to do before lights out.

this gives you a chance to talk to Amara, which is something you feel like you haven’t done in forever. the two of you are sitting at the dock by the lake, watching the sun set as you talk about everything that’s happened so far.

“i don’t know why you won’t peruse anything with him he sounds perfect for you” you groan.

she’s now filled you in on the older camp councillor from last night, and it’s safe to say you were growing more annoyed with her inability to commit to a guy, especially one as good as the councillor.

“he gave me the ick i don’t know” she ponders for a moment, gaze still fixated on the scenery that surrounds you. “wait how was it doing the activities with that weird kid?”

you furrow your eyebrows, not entirely sure who she’s referring to. “Matt?”

“yeah that’s his name” she replies smiling as if the idea of him is just that funny.

it’s hard to not feel a little sting, but you’re used to this, you and her have very different taste in guys. “i don’t know why you think he’s weird, he’s pretty nice actually”

“i don’t know he always looks angry at something and like i’ve never seen him not wearing a long sleeve it’s just odd”

now you’re definitely annoyed. normally you’d play along just to get her to stop talking, but for whatever reason you feel the need to stick up for Matt—maybe it’s because you aren’t sure anyone else would.

“you don’t know anything about him Amara you shouldn’t be judging him over nothing” you reply with a harsher tone than you were really expecting.

“why do you care so much? do you have a crush on the kid or something?”

yup you sure do.

but Amara doesn’t deserve to know that, not when she’s acting like this.

so you just get up, replacing yourself with your feet on the slightly wobbly dock.

you open your mouth to say something but ultimately decide against it, the last thing you want to do is speak out of anger and regret it the next morning.

“y/n i didn’t mean it like that i’m sorry” she calls out but you continue walking towards your cabin in a fit of anger.

_______________________________________________

it doesn’t make a ton of sense why you were so offended by her words. deep down you knew there was more of Matt for you to learn about, more backstory behind his complexity and you couldn’t judge him without it.

you shower quickly, although you hate the camp showers with a passion. all you can do is be as fast as possible and pray no bugs join you in the stall.

once you’ve dried off fully you change into some random boxers you own and your moms old crew neck that you brought with you everywhere.

it brought you closure wearing it, having a physical way to feel close to her was needed in your time of grief.

the campers all settle in to their bunks and you drown out their talking as you return to your book from earlier.

usually reading was an escape from your life, a way to forget—now as you read you can’t help but wish these romantic things were happening to you.

it’s too much.

so you attempt to sleep, putting the bookmark on a page that brought you particular sadness and letting out a huge sigh as your head meets the pillow.

you wish it was easy to turn your fast moving brain off, but it’s a battle that you know all too well—a battle you lose every time.

so once it’s clear that all the campers are asleep, you make your way out of the cabin, tip toeing as much as possible and quietly picking up your slides.

you squeeze your eyes as the door creaks ever so slightly and pause as you await a reaction, but nothing happens, so you continue out.

the moment you shut the door behind yourself you take a few breath. if only breathing was enough to shut off your mind.

you bend over to slide on your shoes and you begin to walk to the dock, hoping to gain some peace and serenity while you watch the stars.

it’s a short walk and soon enough you find yourself at the same spot you fought with Amara at hours prior, and the thought of the fight alone makes you feel sick.

you’re unsure of how it got this bad with her. it’s not like you actively hated her or anything, she’s still your favourite person. but something in the way you continuously watch her reject guys just to disprove at the one guy that actually looks like at you like you’re human makes you really upset.

camp used to be so different. always filled with lifelong memories, but you want nothing more than to forget what happened tonight.

you wipe the tear that’s creeps on to your face and lay down, knees bent and your hands on your stomach—having your hands placed there is something Amara taught you to do when your brain moves too fast for your breath to keep up.

the use of that strategy is ironic now.

after a few short moments you hear footsteps behind you—there is no way you are ready to talk to Amara yet, not when you still feel like shit.

“Amara i don’t wanna speak to you right now please leave me alone” you call out without looking behind yourself.

the footsteps pause for a moment so you assume you’ve successfully caused your best friend to walk away, but you’re met with a voice that is all too familiar.

“i’m not Amara”

Matt.

the footsteps continue as you look back to him. “mind if i sit here?”

you wipe your face quickly, the last thing you need is any more lingering tears left on your cheek and a boy to make fun of them. a quick nod of your head and he’s sat next to you, closer now than at the fire.

he’s the first to lay back now, in the exact position you were in before being interrupted. “do you wanna talk about it?”

you match his position on the dock, sighing to release all stress. “are you gonna get annoyed if i sit here and ramble about girl drama?” you knew it was more than that, but most people you have tried to confide in didn’t see it the way that you did.

“i think calling it girl drama just undermines the pain you’re clearly in” his gaze is fixed on the stars but you can’t help but look to him.

“that was a big word for you” you smile slightly and earn a shake of the head in return—it’s clear he’s hiding a smile you just aren’t sure why. “but yeah uh i kinda fought with Amara in this exact same spot like a few hours ago”

you pause. it feels extremely weird to be confiding in someone who was a stranger to you yesterday but somehow he feels like the only person in the world who will listen.

“she just said some mean shit about this guy that i’m into as if she doesn’t shut down every guy that looks at her. and i wish i had her problem, i do. but it doesn’t come that easy for me, guys don’t usually look at me that way”

“and this one does?” he asks, looking at you as if on cue.

you fight the stupid smile that creeps onto your lips. “he does”

it’s silent for a moment again, you aren’t really sure how to continue this conversation.

“you’re telling me no guys are into you?” he asks. as much as you wish the words didn’t have the effect on you that they did, sadness looms over you once more.

“that’s exactly what i’m telling you. they all look to Amara before i can even get a word in. i’m used to it now, but it’s still a hurtful reality check that my life isn’t one i read about.” once again you were unsure why you were being so open with Matt, you had never said these words out loud before, something about him made it flow so effortlessly.

he sighs at this, as if the sadness that looms over your head has travelled to his. “i don’t see what everyone sees in Amara. i prefer the other friend”

you just laugh. “that’s funny” as confident as you were that he was joking, his face is dead serious. your eyebrows furrow in disbelief. “wait you’re serious?”

“way to make it a thing” he laughs but you can’t even begin to imagine what you’re meant to say in return in order to continue the flirty banter—god where was Amara when you needed her.

“wait why did you sit next to me yesterday at the fire? i thought you hated me” you muster up the courage to speak.

he clears his throat slightly and you can tell he’s uncomfortable. “i never hated you. i was just mad that my parents sent me here. i sat next to you because i thought you were pretty, it’s really not complicated.”

you allow your jaw to drop at this. to most people this may be a normal occurrence, but for someone as hot as Matt to be hitting on you is not something you could prepare yourself for.

he looks to you and you immediately cover your face with your hands—you were flustered over nothing.

the last thing you expected him to do was gently remove your hands from your cheeks. “this isn’t gonna work if you’re terrified of compliments”

“sorry i’m not used to it” his hands are still holding your own. “can i ask you something?”

he nods, not letting go.

“why do you always wear long sleeves?” you were expecting a more uncomfortable reaction from the boy, instead a smirk enters his face.

“you wanna see?” you could melt at the words but instead you nod as he lets go of your grasp.

he sits up and his hands grab the bottom hem of his hoodie and lift it over his head—momentarily exposing his stomach.

you can’t help but stare until he pulls his tank top down and places his hoodie to the side. “holy shit” is all you’re capable of saying. it’s unclear what you were anticipating but it definitely wasn’t this.

Matt’s right arm is completely covered in tattoos. from flowers on his shoulder to a seashell on his forearm he practically had a full sleeve.

you’re fully sat up now too, hesitantly reaching out to his arm to further inspect the ink that covers him. “you can touch my arm i won’t bite” he says, speaking more quiet than before, but it’s an offer you take up—grabbing the boys arm and tracing your fingers along the numerous tattoos.

the longer you graze his arm the more you can feel eyes burn though the top of your head, so without thinking you look up and your eye’s immediately meet his—now closer than ever before.

you fight every urge to back away and cringe of embarrassment, because deep down this is all you’ve thought about for the past 24 hours and now it’s real.

the eye contact lingers for a while, your arm still on his as the two of you practically breathe in sync.

“can i kiss you?” Matt asks and immediately you nod your head, unable to think about anything else.

he leans in and a sense of comfortability washes over you in the most unexpected way. as much as you lack experience, this feels so incredibly right.

you’re the first to deepen the kiss and his hand makes its way to your cheek—you could melt at the touch.

it’s something so simple but so intimate. your hand rubbing small circles on his arm while his fingers bring you impossibly closer to him.

as far as kisses go, you’re sure this is as good as it gets.

after a moment the two of you back away, looking into each others eyes immediately.

you can’t fight back the dumb smile that forms on your face, and for once, he doesn’t either.

he lays back down and you follow suit, now placing your head in his chest as his arm wraps around your waist. “i wish everyone saw you the way that i see you” you say—his one hand now making its way to your hair to toy with it as you speak.

“you want everyone to want to kiss me?” you smack his chest as he laughs.

“obviously not Matt” you sigh, sinking further into him. “i just mean like everyone sees you as this tough guy who doesn’t care about anything, but that’s not you at all”

“what am i then?” his voice is deeper now, more tired than you’ve heard him before.

your own arm wraps around his waist before you speak again, it still doesn’t feel real. “for starters, you love kids, i can tell. most councillors don’t put up with half the shit your cabin does to you but you just allow it and i don’t think it’s because you don’t care, i think it’s because you like to make them happy.”

he just hums in response. “you also care about other people. like when you saw me sitting alone, part of me just assumed you were coming to make fun of me but i think you just didn’t like seeing someone so social sit alone. and i saw the look in your eyes when i opened up to you. it wasn’t pity, it was empathy”

it’s easier to speak to him when you don’t have to look at him in the eyes, and with his hand in your hair guiding you through your words. “you just don’t let people see that side of you and i don’t understand why”

he shifts slightly in his spot—you definitely struck a nerve and you were not expecting to.

“you don’t have to uh tell me if you don’t want i get it if it’s personal” you say quickly, desperately trying to not ruin what has barely started.

“no it’s fine uh” he thinks for a second, fingers still gently scratching your scalp. “when i was younger i was the happiest kid, like you would never see me without a smile on my face. and uh i had this best friend, his name was Nate, and he was my everything growing up.” you can hear him sniffle above you and you subconsciously squeeze his tighter, wanting nothing more than to make the boy feel better.

“a little more than a year ago today i had to read his suicide note. everything in the world felt so unfair. i had to watch his family suffer and no words of comfort would fill the void that Nathan left. i guess uh since then i haven’t really been smiling a lot because i haven’t had much of a reason to.”

the thought of this made your heart hurt. “i’m sorry. i know what you’re feeling, i mean a little bit anyways. my mom was my best friend and it never felt like i got enough time with her. it’s terrifying how death happens so fast you know?”

he just nods in response, fighting back the lump in his throat as you speak. “one second i was watching The Office with her and laughing on the couch and the next i had to prepare a speech for her funeral. and you can never say enough in those few pages to encapsulate someone’s entire life. never”

you both feel a sense of heaviness as you sit in a more comfortable silence.

“what’s your favourite memory of Nate?” you ask, hoping to lighten the mood.

it seems to work because Matt immediately smiles. “it was in middle school and we went out to Mcdonald’s and decided to play the penis game.” he laughs softly. “we were practically just yelling the word penis in an almost empty restaurant and peeing ourselves over it” you laugh along too, the mere image of this is enough for you to find it funny.

“what’s your favourite memory of your mom?” he asks in return.

you think for a moment before landing on one specific one. “when i was 12 she taught me how to make her signature chocolate chip cookies. she was already diagnosed with cancer at that point and she was determined to leave her mark on the world in any way she could, including her many recipes. i didn’t know at the time that she was dying, and there was no way for me to. she was the happiest she had ever been and we had so much fun together, eating the chocolate chips while we waited for the cookies to bake”

“she sounds like a really good mom” he says, looking down at you.

“do you think we’re put on this earth for a reason?” you ask, you’re eyes now feeling heavy as you cuddle with Matt.

he takes a moment to respond. “i do. i just don’t know what mine is, or if we’re ever really supposed to have that figured out”

“it just sucks because currently, my reason to be on this earth is to be a supporting character in an interesting movie, and i don’t want that”

“so make your own movie” those words alone are enough for you to smile. you look up to him to see his eyes already on yours and you place a quick kiss on his lips.

“i like kissing you” you say sheepishly, both hands now under your own chin as you look up to him.

he smiles back.

knowing what you know now, the fact that he’s smiling at you—because of you, could make you melt.

“you should do it more often” he replies, looking at you with a new look in his eyes, one of admiration.

you didn’t see that look often, and when you did it was directed towards your best friend.

so you kiss him again. and again. and one more time for good measure. if you could, you’d be here forever, just like this.

“we should probably go back now, the sun looks like it’s about to start rising” you laugh. the last thing you want to do is leave but you don’t have much of a choice.

he sighs dramatically. “what if i just wanna stay here forever?”

you sit up now, looking down at him as you place a hand on his chest. “well that would simply be unrealistic”

it takes a lot for you to muster up the energy to stand up but you do, and you reach down to help the boy up.

the short walk to your cabin used to be a good thing, but seeing as you don’t want to leave the boy at your side, you’d be okay walking three miles to make it back.

you’re now at your cabin, directly outside of the door as you and Matt just stare at each other. neither of you want to leave, but you both know that this night needs to come to an end eventually.

he places his hands gently on your waist, almost as if he’s testing the waters, but by the way your arms immediately wrap around his neck he knows he made the right choice.

“goodnight Matt” you whisper in his ear, earning a simple “goodnight y/n” as he kisses your temple and inevitably lets you go.

you watch him walk away, screaming silently the moment he’s out of sight—fighting every urge in your body to jump up and down like one of your campers at the mere thought of tonight.

a/n: this feels so incredibly long but i finally finished part 2!! part 3 will be the longest one so if you didn’t get a snack for this chapter you’ll want one for the next

taglist: @inlovewithmattstur @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @alicejwebster @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld (some users didn’t work to add)



#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo headcannons #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolotriplets fanfic

[dumplingsjinson]

an update on cat guy because it's been a hot minute since i've done one, i think. i don't remember if i've talked about him lately so here goes.

i had a date with cat guy on monday night; met his extended family again for his cousin's birthdy party (which i was informed about ON MONDAY MORNING SO I WAS LIKE HUH), was somehow roped into being in some of the pictures as well so i'm like- oh. they remember me, but i don't remember their names lmfao weflnewklnf

i ended up staying over (like i've been doing literally every date now lmfao).

ANYYWAAYYY, we've been having this thing where tickle fights (started by my menace self) would turn into his face being so close to mine, and i'd have to resist the temptation to kiss him just because i love playfighting with him (because i know once i give in, he'd kiss me hard and wouldn't let me go for a damn while) even though it ends up with me losing EVERY TIME.

and i also just love hearing him laughing. like, sometimes he'd try to kiss me and i'd pretend to give in and then be like HAHA no- we STILL HAVE MORE OF THIS TO GO!

whenever i actually give up because i lowkey tired myself out with all the resisting, he'd move in closer and... well, yeah.

FORGIVE A GIRL FOR GIVING INTO THE TEMPTATION OF RELIEVING THAT SEXUAL TENSION OKAY.

(TMI below the line, if you don't want to see me share the details then spare yourself lmfao)

now that's out of the way.

things would get pretty hot and heavy (my question to him last night, verbatim, after we calmed down a little: "how do we always end up like this?" and mfer goes "is there a problem with that?" in his usual teasing tone while holding me even closer to him EVERY GOD DAMN TIME.

and no, i'm not complaining, because i have needs and wants and i am not someone who's afraid to admit that and usually i want that to happen which is why i start the tickle fights HAHAH

so that night, let's just say i was being a very needy lil shit (his thigh was involved) and i was like blabbering and being all like "this is so embarrassing" in a soft whine, and this man goes:

"it's so hot," in that husky voice of his.

FUCKING EXCUSE-

he also called me his good girl once again AND IT NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME FEEL SO SHY LKWENFWEKN

anyways.

after that first session (yes we had another one afterwards, stfu-), i was telling him how i wanna make him feel good too (he's always the one making me feel good and i felt so selfish for receiving so much and giving so little).

he proceeds to tell me, "you make me happy. i like making you feel good and as long as you feel good and you're happy, then i feel good, too."

and me, while stroking his hair and feeling guilty with the knowledge that he's usually the one giving, "but are you happy?" (and when i asked that, even though he already said i make him happy, i meant like... is he really happy?? considering how, in my head, he was giving so much and i wasn't returning much. not because i don't want to but because he never asks for much even when i straight up ask him what he wants me to do with him. i'm just someone who very easily doubts things).

and motherfucker on a truck (the sweetheart that he fucking is onrgklfnw), goes: "yeah. i'm happy when you're happy, because i love you so much" and lays his head on my chest and i'm likeee HELLLPPPPPP ofnewklnfw 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

after like a moment or two because my brain is a piece of laggy shit, i mutter a soft "i love you, too" and hold him closer to me bECAUSE I'M BAD AT EXPRESSING MY AFFECTIONS WITH WORDS AND SAYING I LOVE YOU IS NOT SOMETHING THAT NATURALLY COMES TO ME EVEN WHEN IT'S SAID TO ME FIRST OKAY, LEAVE ME ALONEEEEE

i've asked him plenty of times prior to this time what he wants me to do with him and it all boils down to this: he's someone who likes to please, rather than to be pleased.

which is fair enough, but i did tell him if he ever wants me to do anything, he can tell me.

but yeah. all this happened.

and i can't wait to see him again for his friend's birthday party, which he invited me to wlknfe

it's so funny bc i feel like i'm slowly entering his world and i'm part of his comfort zone now.

he's also an insufferable piece of shite and a right old prat at times, but i love him either way <3

he also did suggest something he's wanted to try but never got around to doing so after that talk of ours, which lead into the second session SAURRR

:))) i love him-

#cat guy chronicles #long post #personal #love life rambles

[hangeslefteye]

HAHAH if you’re going to send me the whole alphabet obviously I’m going to send it back (if you’re comfortable and able! Of course it’s a lot so feel free to pick and choose or ignore!!) but could I get the alphabet for Reiner?? 👀👀👀👀 I love how you write him xoxoxo

Thx for the ask <3 Aaah Rei <3 Everyone's fave :D I support bi Reiner supremacy so I made it gender natural I hope y'all like it <3

Reiner-NSFW Alphabet

A for Aphrodisiac [What always turns them on?]

I hate to write this but any type of physical touch -including hugs,pecks- would make him a little hard but especially so if their s/o is unaware of that.

B for Bondage [Who gets tied up and how?]

Him xD He doesn't mind getting tied with a leather belt,rope etc. I can't imagine him going in for crazy BDSM type of bondage but hands/wrists will do great.

C for Cuddling [How do they cuddle after sex?]

A teddy bear </3 Cuddles are a must after sex and he's the type to lay on his s/o's chest/stomach.

D for Dirty [How do they dirty talk? What do they say?]

Ummm,Let's say he's trying his best :D He really does but it ends up hilarious so he gave up andd... he'd just praise his s/o's body on how tight they are,how big boobs/ass they got etc. (even if it's not <3)

E for Exposed [What is the most daring place they’ve had sex?]

I can't imagine him too adventurous with this one but he'd appreciate beach/forest/outdoor sex.He's in as long as it's somewhere romantic but somewhat private aswell.

F for Favorite [What do they find sexiest about their partner?]

Honestly,it's enough of a turn on if he's with the person he likes </3 So their partner being unapologetically themselves is enough. I'd say sincerity? İf it makes sense.He wouldn't be in for porn star type of fake effort.

G for Graceful [What is the weirdest position they’ve tried?]

He just manhandles his s/o into whatever position he feels like xD While he's unaware, his partners are pulling off acrobatic oral sex positions xD

H for Hands [What do they do with their hands during sex?]

Caressing.Caressing everywhere his hands can reach.He's quite touchy-feely when having sex.

I for Imagination [What do they fantasize about?]

Pegging xD When he feels comfy in a relationship he'll let their s/o know :)

J for Jazz [What’s their go-to sexy song/playlist?]

I made one already.

K for Kink [What’s their secret kink?]

Edging/Orgasm denial/ruining.Their s/o must discover it themselves or else he won't speak about it :)

L for Lingerie [What kind of underwear do they like to wear or have their partner wear?]

He's quite comfy with his body so he's the type to wear theme boxers/underwear on special days such as valentines day/halloween etc. And he'd love it if his partner went along but usually a simple lingerie -black- will do fine he's not picky.

M for Moan [What kind of noises do they make? What sounds do they like to hear from their partner?]

A whimperer amen He needs to hear his s/o moaning/whimpering to make sure he's doing an ok job but if his s/o praises him...he's a goner <3

N for Night [What time of day do they prefer to have sex and why?]

Anytime.He wouldn't like routine sex so always night/day would bore him.He'd initiate sex on different times to make it exciting.

O for Oral [Giving or receiving? Why?]

He's a giver y'all.He'd enjoy praising after a good cunnilingus more than having a bj himself.

P for Position [What is their favorite position(s) and why?]

Mating press Aside from any position that allows him to hold his s/o on air; face to face positions such as lotus.Seeing their s/o's mimics would turn him on even more and he likes intimacy.

Q for Quickie [How would they have sex if they’re in a hurry?]

Umm I don't think he'd like quickies he'd be more into slow,sensual sex but if his s/o wants he can go for it.

R for Role Play [What is their role-playing fantasy?]

Escort fantasy xD He's simply the type to have this fantasy xDD But I doubt if he could do it with a real escort.He'd like to act as if it's a meaningless,hook up sex.

S for Sexy [What would they do/wear to turn on their partner?]

Foreplay out of nowhere,that'll lead up to nowhere disguised as affection xD He loves getting edged and edging his partners.İf he's in the mood he can keep it going for days just to stop right before sex.

T for Trust [How would they implement rough sex or kinks?]

He'd be chatty about his kinks but rough sex would just happen in a moment when he's too horny to hold back.He'd feel guilty afterwards because he knows he should have spoken about it.

U for Under [Who’s in charge and how?]

He's a switch.He'd get bored of being submissive or dominant all the time.

V for Voyeur [What do they like to watch their partner do?]

He'd adore his s/o when they are asleep in their undergarments or...just naked.He somewhat intrusively likes seeing them vulnerable.

W for Wet [How would they have sex in the shower?]

He'd love it but he's clumsy xD Shower rug is a must <3

X for X-Rated [What kind of porn do they watch or read?]

Possibly gay or maybe a mixed group.

Y for Yummy [How would they involve food/drinks?]

This is a hard one xD Let's say plain old chocolate sticks.

Z for Zipper [How do they prefer to undress? Both themselves and their partner.]

Both as slow as possible D: He'd want to savor the moment.Also he's the type to enjoy clothed foreplay such as grinding.

Afternotes:He'd be a natural but a passionate one for sure <3

Taglist:@roseofdarknessblog @scumbagjaeger

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #reiner braun #reiner brainrot #reiner x reader #reiner aot #reiner x y/n #reiner smut #reiner x you #reiner x oc #reiner braun x you

[lovelynim]

Noises

Honkai Star Rail - Himeko

A/N: This fic is based on a little headcanon I came up with a while ago and shared with some friends. After a little time procrastinating, I decided to write it, hehe.

Summary: During the night, Himeko starts to hear some 'noises' coming from the passengers car

Word count: 1389 words

Himeko stared at the screen in front of her, with arms crossed and a serious facade. If the Astral Express were to take this route, they would, at least, need a couple more supplies for the trip. Food, water, repair kits and… Sigh, the list went on with some other items.

“What a headache,” she muttered, rubbing her temper as she tried to give it another thought. If they could add one or two stops between their final destination, maybe they could leave it for now - but, then, wouldn’t it take twice as much time than their original plan?

As the redheaded navigator dived deeper and deeper into her thoughts, she felt a friendly, gentle touch on her shoulder. Opening her eyes and turning her head around, Himeko was met with Welt’s concerned and worried case. With a slight smile, he pressed his fingers into her shoulder, as if to sooth her or give her some sort of massage.

“Do you need some help, Himeko?”

“Mr. Welt, I didn’t expect to see you in the parlor car this late,” she joked, huffing a giggle as she rested one of her hands on top of his. 

“As much as I appreciate your offer, I should deny it. These are just some matters up to me to solve as the express’s navigator, nothing you should worry yourself with.”

He nodded, lifting his hand from her shoulder as her words reached him. “I know I can’t convince you when you settle your mind or something, but at least promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

“Hahah, you are treating me like one of the kids, mr. Welt?” 

“I wouldn’t word it like that, but I think it works.”

Well…’ Himeko started as she crossed one leg over the other, sighing. “I will figure this out, it’s just a matter of time. If I don’t solve this within the next 30 minutes, I’ll leave it for tomorrow.”

“Very well, I will return to my bedroom, then, but call me if you need anything.”

“Oh, wait for me. I need to pick something in my room as well,” she said, elegantly getting up from her seat and walking down the car with Welt.

“And what would it be?”

“Just… something to drink,” she said sheepishly, already predicting how the male would react.

“Tsk, are you sure it is a good idea to drink coffee at this hour?”

“Oh please, who do you think I am? Just a cup is far from enough to keep me up, hahah ~”

As they strolled down the passengers car, the duo couldn’t help but notice a small chatter coming from Dan Heng’s room. Besides the Express’s archivist’s voice, the newest member’s could also be heard coming from inside the room.

“Dan Heng must be having a tough time sharing a room with Caelus, I never saw his bedroom’s lights on so late,” Welt observed, continuing to walk with Himeko.

“Let the kids enjoy themselves, mr. Welt, it’s best for the crew if everyone tag along. Besides, Dan Heng has quite the knowledge in a couple of topics, I’m sure it will do Caelus some good to learn about those while staying in his room,” she smiled, stopping in front of her room’s door and watching while Welt headed to his.

“Good night, Himeko.”

“Good night, mr. Welt!”

Heading inside, Himeko quickly turned on her coffee machine, dropping the capsule as she muttered a tune one of the kids played in the phonograph earlier while she waited. The navigator inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of fresh coffee, smiling as she could pull her cup from the machine. “Now, let’s go back to work…”

Carrying her cup in one hand, she decided to walk a little slowly as she left her bedroom, after all, she didn’t even want to think about what Pom-Pom would say if she left a coffee stain on the carpet. But it shouldn’t take long for her to reach the-

thud

As the sound of something hitting the floor echoed from one of the bedroom’s, Himeko arched her eyebrow, concerned about the noise. Just what in the words were these kids up to at this hour?

As more weird sounds of impact came, the redheaded could tell their source: Dan Heng’s room. With careful steps, Himeko slowly approaches the room. As she lifted her hand as was about to knock on the door to check on him and Caelus, voices came from the other side of the door.

“C-Caelus! Stop… it… agh-”

“Come ooon ~”

What?

She blinked a few times, not sure if what she heard was right. Dan Heng’s voice sounded so… strangled, while the tone in Caelus’s words was… concerning. What was going on?

“N-nohoho!!”

She stopped again, standing in front of the door with a blank look on her face. All the worry from seconds ago seemed to vanish as she heard Dan Heng… laugh?

“Hehe, there it is! So you are ticklish…”

“E-enohohough!” She heard Dan Heng say, clearly laughing.

The noises from what sounded like a wrestling competition seemed to fit as the last pieces from the picture she was building in her mind. Much to her comfort, nothing harmful was happening.

“Where else are you ticklish? Here? Or… here?”

“C-Caelus! AHahAHAh, n-nohOHOT THEHERE!”

She couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, taking a sip from her cup after she was done giggling at the scene in her imagination - after all, it would be a waste to let such a good coffee go cold.

Since he joined the express, Himeko never heard Dan Heng laugh like that - or being so loud, for that matter. But, a day after the new guy came in and, well, look (or hear) at him. 

Shaking her head, with a sly smile on her face, she decided to let the two of them be, resuming her walk as Dan Heng’s laughter slowly faded away, becoming quieter and quieter until nothing else could be heard.

As she headed back to the table where she was working on - and after finishing her coffee - Himeko could, indeed, finish her planning and, just like the rest of the crew (or, at least, most of them), she could head back to her room and enjoy a good and deserved rest.

By the wake up call time, when the members of the crew slowly headed to the parlor car to eat their breakfast, Himeko was already up, enjoying her drink - which, of course, was another cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Himeko,” a low, sleepy voice came from her side. Turning her head, she could see Dan Heng approaching, joining her at the breakfast table. “Good morning, Pom-Pom,” he added, greeting the conductor who was already running around the car.

“Oh, good morning, Dan Heng,” she said, smiling fondly at the boy as she placed her cup down. “Did you sleep well?”

“Ah, yes, I suppose. What about you?”

“Well, I have to admit I could finally rest at ease after finishing the planning, hahah. But it’s good to know you could catch some sleep as well, I was worried about you,” she said, closing her eyes as her lips curled into a smug smile.

“Huh?” Dan Heng tilted his head, blinking a few times in confusion, “worried about me? Because I was sharing the room with Caelus?”

“Oh, not because of that. I’m sure you guys were getting along just fine… I was just thinking if you could sleep with all that noise coming from your room during the night.”

Dan Heng choked as those words reached him, banging his fist against his chest as he coughed, trying to catch his breath. His cheeks were already turning a little pink when he looked back at Himeko, with widened eyes. “N-noise? You… heard that?!”

“I was just passing by, don’t worry,” she chuckled at his reaction, resting her head on her hand, “but it’s good to see that you two were having fun. I never heard you laugh like that,” she added, giggling.

“L-laugh..? Oh, you- ah, I see,” he sighed, relieved, “Caelus just decided to mess with me and started tickling me. I didn’t mean to be lo-”

“Wait… what did you think I was talking about?”

“A-ahm… y-you see, it’s nothing, really,” he muttered, realizing he probably said more than he should.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail tickling #tickle fic #himeko #honkai star rail himeko #caelus #dan heng #ler!caelus #lee!dan heng #ticklish!dan heng

[chelseachilly]

king of my heart - pt 12

hold on to the memories they will hold on to you and i will hold on to you

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: it’s euro time baby!!! warnings: some smut at the end :)  word count: 4k

a/n: hi!! this chapter was so fun to write, maybe my favourite so far?? i hope you guys like it, please let me know what you think! there’s only one more left after this <3

-

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benchilwell

liked by masonmount, jackgrealish and others

benchilwell Back at it! Feeling fit and thrilled to be back in time for the end of the season 💙

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yourusername Looking fit, that’s for sure 😍😍😍

benchilwell Hahah thanks gorgeous 😏

chillyfan1 living for them flirting on insta

-

After a long and arduous journey, the day finally comes that Ben is able to step foot on the pitch at Stamford Bridge again.

It feels like a lifetime since you’ve seen him play, and you couldn’t be more excited. You’re seated in a box with Kai’s girlfriend Sophia, anxiously awaiting kickoff.

You know how hard Ben has trained for this moment and that he’s been cleared by a team of doctors and physios who are at the top of their field, but you can’t help but feel incredibly nervous as you see him emerge from the tunnel with the rest of the team.

“Hey, he’ll be fine,” Sophia says reassuringly, patting your arm. “I know it’s nerve-wracking the first time back, but he’s ready for this.”

You nod, forcing a smile despite the anxiety still lodged in your chest, which you suspect won’t go away until the final whistle is blown.

It’s a tough match against Arsenal today, and only the second last of the season. You know how crucial today’s game is for securing their spot in the top 4, and as a Chelsea fan, you’re incredibly nervous about the outcome.

It’s 1-1 at halftime, and continues to be until late in the second half.

Your fists are clenched tightly as you see the Arsenal striker on the breakaway, sprinting toward the goal. A few of the Chelsea players are trying to catch up to him, but Ben is the fastest, making a successful challenge and passing the ball back to a teammate as the crowd roars.

Your panic begins to dwindle as the game finishes up and Ben continues to play with the level of skill and talent that he possessed before his injury. He’s back - really, truly, finally back to playing the game he loves.

yourusername via stories

-

The week that the England squad is set to be announced for the Euros, you can tell how nervous Ben is.

He’s proven himself to have made a spectacular recovery in the last two Premier League games of the season, but it remains to be seen whether that was soon enough for him to have caught Gareth Southgate’s attention.

You’re incredibly anxious, too, as you wait for any news. This is what he’s been working toward his whole career, his whole life. To play for England on that scale, to finally get the chance to show the world what he is capable of, is everything he’s ever wanted. It’s the reason he’s fought so hard this year, through all the pain and setbacks.

As a result, you’ve both found a fun, helpful way to distract yourselves - having sex in every corner of your house, as often as possible. It began with you “christening” the home after you first officially moved in, which you knew didn’t make a lot of sense as Ben’s lived there the whole time you’ve been dating and you’ve already pretty much had sex in every room.

Then, it became a useful tool when Ben was getting particularly anxious about the call-up, which was becoming more and more often as the day drew closer. You’re also enjoying his return to full fitness for numerous reasons, including the fact that he’s now able to carry you upstairs and have his way with you like he used to, displaying a level of athleticism you had sorely missed.

This particular morning, you were having a lazy cuddle on the sofa watching Sky Sports, which inevitably led to the pundits discussing the possible England lineup and Ben pulling you into his lap to take his mind off it.

You’ve helped each other strip most of your clothes off - you in only your knickers and the t-shirt of Ben’s that you slept in, him in only his boxers - when his phone starts to ring.

“Shit, I’d better-“

“Yes, get it!” you exclaim, tearing yourself off him.

Ben would never normally take a call while you’re in the middle of such activities, but it’s a different scenario when he’s waiting to hear from the manager of the national team.

He scrambles around frantically looking for his phone, eventually finding it between the couch cushions.

“It’s Southgate,” Ben exhales as he looks at the Caller ID, and your eyes go wide.

“Answer it!”

Ben nods and gulps quickly before taking the call.

“Hello?”

Your heart is racing with anticipation and you briefly wish you had asked him to put it on speaker as Ben paces back and forth across the room, saying nothing except the odd “yes, sir,” giving you absolutely nothing to go off.

After a minute or two, Ben ends the call with a “thank you, I won’t let you down,” and your breath hitches. The moment he hangs up, he turns back to look at you with a slightly dazed expression.

“Did you-“ you begin to ask, and he just nods as a massive smile takes over his face.

“I got the call up,” Ben confirms, nodding his head. “I’m in the squad!”

You squeal with delight as you run across the room to him, throwing your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He catches you and holds you just as close, burying his face in your neck.

“You did it, baby,” you sigh with relief, your fingers digging in slightly to his bare shoulders. “Your hard work paid off. I’m so proud of you.”

He pulls back just enough to crash his lips down on yours in one of the most passionate kisses you’ve ever shared, his soft lips parting to slide his tongue into your mouth.

“Good thing we’re already dressed to celebrate,” you murmur teasingly, tightening your legs around him so you press against his hardened cock, making him moan against your mouth.

Within seconds, he has you laid out on the couch, climbing over you and smothering you with kisses as his hands work to remove the remaining clothing you have on.

-

The time leading up to the Euros seems to drag on forever.

You’re so incredibly happy and proud that Ben made the squad, and you wouldn’t have it any other way, but you underestimated how much you would miss him while he’s away at the training camp.

You’d gotten used to him being home all the time while he was injured, so you can’t help but suffer from a bit of separation anxiety while he’s gone, and you find yourself texting and calling him more often than you’re proud to admit.

It gets to the point that when Ben picks up the phone, you hear a chorus of “hi, Y/N!” on the other line before he’s even greeted you. It’s one thing being teased by Mason or James or even Jack, who you consider close friends, but you do feel a bit embarrassed to think of national heroes like Harry Kane or Marcus Rashford knowing you as Ben’s needy girlfriend.

Mostly, though, you’re just so excited to finally get to see Ben play at such a massive level, achieving his childhood dreams.

You obviously can’t miss an entire month of work to relocate to Germany, but you make travel plans and take vacation days to ensure that you see as many as possible. Every time you show up to a game and get to see Ben play his heart out for England, it’s all worth it.

As the weeks go on, England continues to succeed and Ben gets more and more playing time. He’s obviously proven himself as a force to be reckoned with, having come back even stronger from his injury, and it makes your heart swell with pride each time you see him come on - whether you’re watching on TV or in person.

When England makes it to the semi-final against Italy, there’s not a chance in hell that you’re missing it. You make the necessary arrangements at work and book flights for you and Charlotte before letting Ben know that you’ll be there.

You only get to see him for a few minutes when you fly in the morning or the match, as he’s deep in training mode for what may very well be one of the most important games of his career.

“You’re going to be amazing,” you tell him earnestly, cupping his face. “Whether the gaffer subs you on in the 89th minute or you’re on the starting lineup - which you should be - I am so proud of you.”

“Thanks, baby, you have no idea how much it means to have you here,” Ben says quietly, squeezing your waist. “I’ll see you after the game.”

He leaves you in his hotel room as he returns to the training pitch for warmups. You know his hopes aren’t high for much playing time in such an important game, but you’re still optimistic. He’s been just as good or better than the other left-back on the team, and he’s already got two assists and some impressive defensive plays to show for it.

Above all, you know he wants his team to win, however that is achieved. You just - a bit selfishly, maybe - want Ben to play a role in that win.

An hour before kick-off, you and Charlotte change into your Chilwell and Mount England NT shirts, respectively, and head down to the Alilianz Arena, home of Bayern Munich.

It’s definitely one of the most massive and electric sporting events you’ve ever been to, including some impressive games hosted at Wembley. The crowd is full of fans from all across Europe, and both English and Italian flags line the stands.

“Oh my god, did you look at the lineup?” Charlotte asks, glancing at her phone as you take your seats with some of the other girls.

You shake your head and she shoves her phone in your hand. Your eyes immediately scan down the list until you see “CHILWELL” in big bold font.

“Oh my god!” you practically shriek. “Ben’s starting!”

“That’s amazing, babe!” Sasha exclaims from beside you, grabbing your arm.

As kick-off approaches, you see the teams make their way out of the tunnel. Seeing Ben stand on the pitch as the national anthem plays, dressed in his England kit, fills you with unimaginable pride.

The next 90-odd minutes are some of the most intense and exhilarating of your life. You’re on the edge of your seat the entire time, jumping up when anything happens.

Kane scores first, followed by an immediate equalizer from Italy. At the end of the first half, the Italian side gets one more past Pickford, which appears to be offside but is ultimately ruled a goal.

At halftime, the mood in the English supporter section is somewhat grim, but you know they can turn this around. They need two goals to win this, and they have an incredibly strong team here.

You send Ben a quick text as Charlotte and Lauren run to grab you some cocktails to take the edge off.

You - 3:52PM Amazing start, babe. You got this second half 💪💕

When the game resumes, the team appears to have been reinvigorated during the break.

England starts strong, retaining possession well and creating some solid chances. You know it’s only a matter of time before they score and level the game.

Then, the most remarkable thing happens.

Ben is running toward the net with the ball, Italy’s defense lagging behind as they attempt to catch up with him. He’s running faster than you’ve ever seen him, obviously looking for an open teammate, and his eyes find Jack from across the pitch. He passes to him with incredible precision, despite the speed he was running at, but Jack doesn’t have a clear shot on goal.

In a split second decision, Jack passes the ball right back to Ben, who volleys it without a second thought.

There’s a brief moment of hesitation as you wait for confirmation of the goal, and then the crowd erupts with cheers.

You jump up in your seat, screaming at the top of your lungs along with thousands of other supporters. You’re pretty sure your boyfriend is the most beloved man in England at the moment, but the moment he realizes it’s a goal, he turns to where he knows you’re sitting and points right at you.

“And it appears Ben Chilwell is dedicating this goal, his first in a major international tournament and his first since returning from injury, to someone special in the England supporter section!” the commentator declares, making you blush as you feel so many eyes on you.

The game continues, and you’re unable to take your eyes off Ben as he continues to dominate on the pitch, their defense like an unbreakable barrier for the Italians.

In the final minutes, Saka scores with an assist from Declan, and the crowd goes wild once more. The final whistle blows, and you all jump up and cheer as England takes the win, advancing them to the final.

You feel like you’re buzzing off much more than the couple of drinks you’ve had as the stadium erupts with cheers and chants from the English fans, the players celebrating enthusiastically on the pitch.

You and the girls rush down to meet them in the changing room, and there’s already music blaring and champagne being sprayed everywhere as you enter. They have a week until the final, so they can let loose a bit tonight.

“Y/N!” Reece exclaims, the first person you see when you walk into the room. “We did it!”

“You did it!” you shout back over the noise, pulling him into a tight hug. “Have you seen-“

“He’s over there,” Reece says with a knowing smile, gesturing to the other side of the room, where Ben is posing for photos with Bukayo and Mason.

The moment Ben sees you, his already wide grin grows impossibly bigger. He drops his arms that were around his teammates and holds them open for you.

You don’t think about the many people watching you, or the fact that they’re all currently recording on their phones, or anything other than running into Ben’s arms and hugging him as tightly as possible.

When you reach him, he catches you and spins you around in the centre of the room, making you laugh into his neck as you squeeze him tight.

“That was incredible!” you say, your voice muffled by his skin as you leave a few kisses there. “That goal, Ben, I-you took my breath away. You’re amazing.”

Ben pulls back and cups your face in both hands, kissing you firmly. Your kiss him back just as fervently, trying to convey every emotion of the past two hours into one touch of your lips.

“Thank you,” are the first words out of Ben’s mouth when he pulls back, staring at you as if you had gone out there and scored all three goals yourself. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, babe. Seriously.”

You meet his wide, slightly watery eyes, getting lost in them just like you do for hours on end when you lay in bed together, or for a brief moment each time you meet his gaze from across a crowded room.

There were so many times over the past year that you saw nothing but pain in those beautiful blue eyes of his, and all you wanted was to fast forward to this moment - this perfect, glorious moment - when he would be healed and back to achieving his biggest dreams.

Every time you woke up in the middle of the night to find him in pain, clutching his knee, making your heart shatter in a million pieces; every argument you had over what was best for him; every game that he had to watch from the sidelines.

Every setback, every gruelling physio session, every time he wanted to quit but didn’t.

It all led to this - him making a massive impact, securing his team’s place in the Euro final and giving them the chance to make history.

“Baby, why are you crying?” Ben asks softly, and you snap out of your train of thought to find him caressing your face and wiping away the tears that have started falling from your cheeks.

“I’m just so proud of you,” you choke out, smiling through your tears. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you for believing in me,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead, followed by a few more to your cheeks and lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you breathe, pulling him into another tight hug - partly because you want to feel his warmth all around you again, and partly so you can hide your tears in his shoulder. You’ve had enough of being totally emotionally vulnerable in front of thirty other people for one night.

-

A couple of hours later, you’re still partying with everyone at a club near your hotel, celebrating the win while also ensuring the boys drink enough water and don’t get too out of control. You know Southgate will be thanking you for that tomorrow when they show up to training with hopefully not too much of a hangover.

Ben is definitely feeling a buzz after just a few drinks, though, especially after having not really drank at all since they’ve been in Germany. He’s even touchier than usual, constantly keeping an arm around you or his hand in yours as you walk around chatting with his teammates and their girlfriends.

Eventually, you two end up in the corner of a booth squished between Jack Grealish and James Maddison, watching with amusement as Mason and Declan attempt Wonderwall on karaoke.

Everyone is laughing and documenting it, but Ben is fairly focused on you in his lap, his thumb stroking the exposed skin between your shirt - with his name on the back, which is definitely getting him going - and your jeans.

He’s pressing kisses to your neck every once in a while, sending shivers up your spine and making you wonder how obvious it would be if you two disappeared to the bathroom for a few minutes.

“Oi, look who went viral,” Madders chuckles, sliding his phone over to you and Ben.

You’re not sure who posted it first, but the video of you leaping into Ben’s arms in the changing room seems to have gained millions of views already.

“Oh, god,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Our families are gonna see me making out with you.”

“Worth it,” Ben laughs, kissing your shoulder. “It’s a cute video, to be fair.”

You giggle as Ben begins to trail his kisses up your neck, not hesitating to show you affection even amongst all his teammates. You love seeing him in this great of a mood, riding on the high of his performance today, which earned him his first Player of the Match award for England.

“Have I told you how proud I am of you?” you murmur in his ear, pressing your lips to his temple.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it,” Ben jokes, squeezing your thigh - you’ve probably told him about ten times since you left the stadium, not to mention the thousands of times you’ve repeated the words to him throughout his recovery.

“Well, then,” you smirk, shifting your weight on his lap so that you run against his crotch just enough to drive him crazy. “Want me to show you?”

Ben’s eyes darken as they look into yours, seeing just how serious you are. It’s almost comical how quickly he shoves Madders out of the way so the two of you can escape the booth.

“Going to celebrate the win, Chilly?” Jack asks teasingly, slinging his arm around Sasha as he sips his beer.

“Yes, we are,” you say smugly, taking Ben’s hand in yours. “We’ll see you all at breakfast. Maybe.”

The guys all laugh at your unusually brazen comments, but Ben just tugs on your hand like an impatient child, clearly ready to go back to your room.

“Night, boys,” Ben says, already looking toward the door, and you laugh as you’re dragged along with him.

Within fifteen minutes, you’re making out in the elevator on the way up to your room, and within twenty, all of your clothes are off and you’re riding him on the king-sized bed as he moans into your mouth.

“So good,” Ben groans, his fingers digging into your hips as they roll over his. “Fuck, baby, you’re so amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” you sigh, pushing down on his shoulders for leverage as you try to thrust him deeper inside you. “You’re so good, Ben. So strong. You feel so good inside me.”

He grips your hips even tighter and thrusts upward into you, making you cry out in pleasure as he increases the speed and intensity.

You knew it would be good, but this is one of the best times you’ve ever had - and you and Ben have had some great ones. Every touch feels like an electric shock to your system, every kiss is like a drug, and every pump inside you makes you feel like you’re ascending to another plane of existence.

“I love you,” Ben groans, and you can feel him getting close as you approach your own climax.

“I love y-oh!”

You cry out in pleasure as you crumple over him in your release, your body relaxing against his.

Ben holds you close for a moment, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as you ride out the orgasm, still joined together.

“You good, love?” he asks in a breathy whisper.

He waits for your nod of consent before moving you onto your sides carefully and thrusting into you a few more times. He moans into the crook of your neck as he comes, finally collapsing against the mattress.

You lay there, both breathing heavily, for a moment before meeting each other’s eyes. A wide smile spreads across Ben’s face as he looks at you, sheer adoration in his eyes despite the fact that you’re sure you look like a mess right now, your hair tangled and your makeup smudged.

“That was the best thing that happened to me today, and the bar was really fucking high,” Ben laughs, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you closer.

You laugh into his chest, nuzzling your nose against his warm and slightly sweaty skin, pressing a kiss there.

“I need a shower,” you mumble into his skin - after a few hours in a crowded football stadium, then in a locker room full of sweaty men, followed by a night club, you’re definitely in need of one.

“Me too,” Ben smiles, although he showered after the match. “Let’s go.”

Eager for more already, you don’t argue when he follows you into the shower.

Regardless of what happens in the final, he’s your champion, and you’re going to treat him as such.

-

yourusername 📍 Germany

yourusername So proud of you @benchilwell 🥹❤️🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 It’s been a dream come true watching you play for England after everything you’ve overcome in the past year. No matter what happens on Saturday, you’ve accomplished something incredible here. You inspire me every day with your strength and your determination. I love you ❤️❤️❤️ #itscominghome

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benchilwell Thanks baby ❤️ couldn’t have done any of this without you. I love you!!!

charlottewright Y’all are too adorable I can’t take it!!! 

kennedyalexa Fav couple 🥹

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tagging: @xjval @majx00 @delicateearthquakellama @lunamelona @kenanlotus0 @madriiid​ @mountstars​ @ttzamara​​

a/n: please excuse my terrible attempts at photoshop at the end there 😭

next (and last!) chapter 💕

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine #komh

[niilue]

Oh my god bcz of you and your sub incubus geto fics now i crave for needy sub geto

Maybe a part 3 when geto actually pregnant or a needy sub geto fic plss 🥺

Pls take all the time you need

Love you ❤️

_Your geto simp reader

ෆ    ִ      ׁ   sub geto

cw: male reader, dom reader, needy bf geto, such a noisy boy, sensitive geto, kinda fluff (this is kinda long!) i like this one, geto is so precious

geto didn't seem to love the idea of spending so many days apart, but your job required it and sometimes you had to be away for those reasons without being able to spend quality time with your boy.

it was after four o'clock in the afternoon and you had managed to finish your shift earlier than on other occasions. you said goodbye to your colleagues and left.

you sent a message to geto telling him that we got home earlier today. so that made him very happy. you could even see it in the messages he sent you, saying he would prepare something nice to eat.

after a while you were finally at home. geto greeted you at the door with a loud kiss. "hello babe, come and have something to eat." he said all excited.

you sat down at the table and talked about your day to your boyfriend while you ate his delicious food. he watched you with all the attention in the world while every now and then he caressed your hands.

you smiled at him every time you looked into his eyes, he was so beautiful with that kind smile on his face, his dark eyes sparkled at the slightest thing you said to him. his black hair was in a messy ponytail making him look very handsome.

"how beautiful you are, suguru." you said giving him a kiss on the forehead as you retreated to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

you felt your boy's arms around your back, interrupting what you were about to do.

"how can you say that to me and then walk away?" his face was pressed against your body so you felt the vibrations of him talking go through every inch of your being. it was adorable.

you put the dishes down somewhere and turned to take geto in your arms and sit him on the kitchen counter. "hahah, i was just going to do the dishes so you wouldn't have to, baby, i wasn't pulling away from you." you said as you stroked his cute face.

he was so sensitive and even a lot of things you said to him made him blush too much.

"you look cute blushing because of me. it makes me want to devour you." you said pinching his cheeks and playing with them.

the black-haired man looked self-conscious but still spoke. "then do it." he said hugging you tightly, hiding his face in your chest. "i'm only yours."

how cute, you thought. now you really wanted to make love to him at the table.

you started kissing him, tasting his lips and savoring his scent. you held him gently by the neck while you played with his hair and kept devouring his mouth.

when he wanted to pull away for air, you took his lips between your teeth, making their gazes connect. you noticed your boyfriend's excited face as their agitated breaths mingled. you let go of his lip and licked your lips, took your fingers and ran them over your boy's reddish lips.

"you are too beautiful, i don't deserve you." you said lost in his eyes.

the last didn't seem to please geto as he pouted and told you to shut up. now he was the one who took the initiative to kiss you.

he was massaging your back, arms and shoulders. it seemed that he never had enough of you. he lowered one of his hands to your crotch wanting to excite you more. he massaged you over your pants while he made you moan with pleasure.

"make me the love here (name)"

he didn't have to say much more when you were already taking off all of your boyfriend's clothes. with every piece of clothing that came off, you took it upon yourself to kiss and give that part of him lots of attention.

you loved the sound of his moans with the slightest act of affection from you. he really loved anything you did with his body. even a gentle touch.

you kissed his abdomen, watching it contract strongly from the sensation of your lips on his skin. he breathed erratically and seemed very excited about what you were going to do next.

"do you like me to kiss you here?" you asked with your lips pressed against his abdomen as you held him by the hips,

his hips, he responded with a moan and nodded his head in affirmation.

you licked your lips and let your hands go down to his pants. with a tug you left geto naked. his manhood stood before you. anxious and expectant.

"i haven't even done much and you're already like this for me, geto, how adorable you are, really."

you were sure he wasn't laughing too much, but you knew he would melt at you with anything. you thought about whether you should take his member in your mouth. you looked at him for an answer.

"(name), yes- if you want, you can- mmm, suck- AGH!, yes, yes, yes, deeper~"

without letting him finish asking you, you took his cock and shoved it nonchalantly into your mouth. making him moan and ask you to go deeper. as you sucked his cock, you felt him throobing in your mouth and thought he would soon cum.

you pulled it out and watched as it filled with your saliva glistened before your eyes. you wanted to suck it longer, but you knew geto would cum quickly in your mouth.

the boy was holding tightly to the counter while you were like an idiot looking at his cock and tracing imaginary lines on it, making it tremble.

"stop nnhg- nnhg, play (name)."

you laughed and took hold of geto's legs, lifting them up.

you admired his entrance and noticed that you had to prepare him to enter.

"you don't need to prepare me, come in quickly, please."

you looked at him terrified and told him you didn't want to hurt him, so you were going to get something to lubricate with.

before you could leave geto grabbed your arm and stopped you. he had an embarrassed look on his face and didn't seem to want to look you in the face. you asked him if he was ok, if he wanted to stop. he shook his head in denial and opened his mouth to speak.

"i want you to enter in now without preparing me, because if you keep touching me like this i will cum pathetically, and i just want to cum while you are inside me," he said, clenching his fists.

awesome, i think that comment got you too excited. now you felt your dick dripping. you were just as desperate as geto, that was a fact.

you sighed and moved closer. you grabbed his head and kissed his forehead again. you stayed like that for a while, breathing in the scent of his hair and just because you liked doing this.

"okay, but if you can't take it, i'm going to stop." you warned.

you finished taking off your clothes and your now hard member seemed too excited to want to get into geto.

you lined up and with your eyes you warned your boy that you were going to do it. he watched expectantly. as you went in you noticed his pained face but eventually it changed to one of pleasure, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes.

"AAHH, yes, this is what i needed." he murmured biting his lips and making you come closer. "move babe, please~" he pleaded whimpering to you. his face was so erotic right now. beautiful.

taking impulse and grabbing him by the legs you started to move. in and out, to the point that your balls were bumping against his skin. you also moved from side to side, knowing the great pleasure this caused to the black-haired man.

he moaned and moaned, asking you to go faster, he could already feel you cumming. "you feel so good inside me, (name), i love you." you loved that, so you picked up the pace, feeling your own orgasm blurring your judgment and fucking geto's ass so hard. listening as his now screams and moans flooded the house.

you ended up emptying yourself inside suguru after a few thrusts, exhaling loudly and letting out moans of the pleasure you get from being with your boyfriend, as he ejaculated as he was rapidly masturbating his cock.

with a little scream his orgasm also came, staining his abdomen and part of the table, shooting out.

after pulling yourself together, you slowly pulled out of him, looking down at his half-lying body with his legs spread wide open, as streams of your essence began to pour out of him and trickle down his thighs and legs.

too erotic.

you approached geto to take him in your arms and lead him to the bathroom so they could shower together. now he was all sleepy. he was still breathing a little shaky, but you could see a little smile of love on his face.

you hugged his body tighter and kissed his cheek, whispering how much you loved him.

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