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bindeds · 2 months

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[ BITE ME. ] : 2.2k words. ☆ ⌜ALASTOR X GENDER NEUTRAL READER. ⌟ — alastor catches you with bram stoker’s dracula and decides he can’t let you go until he gets to the bottom of your desires.

#tags. biting, blood, blood sucking, alastor with vampire teeth, reference to his cannibalism, but he doesn’t actually eat you, explicit consent, suggestive

a/n. sorry guys, this was wayyy too perfect of a chance realizing that alastor’s a cannibal. i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did! also, i’m finally starting a taglist! lmk which characters you wanna be tagged for ;>

meanwhile ... vampire lucifer version! BITE ME : AL’S VER PART 2 IS OUT !!!

masterlist. request something! :>

��I can’t wait for us to hang out oh, this is going to be so fun!”

You smiled right back at Charlie, though not quite able to return the ray of light she’d been emitting with her own.

“Charlie dear!”

You both looked over your shoulder to see Alastor approaching with his hands neatly poised behind his back.

“Where on earth are you going at this time with such dreadful skies?” Alastor’s head poked out between Charlie and yourself. He pressed the side of his hand to his brow as he squinted at the view outside.

You and Charlie were standing at the grand entrance of the hotel, straw-woven basket in hand.

The red skies of hell had looked just a few shades darker than they usually were and the gravel’s petrichor smell had started to rise in the streets.

Charlie had taken the pleasure of letting Alastor know that you and her would be going on a picnic date. She had taken extra care in watching the weather forecast yesterday to make sure the weather would only be windy, at most drizzly for today, which, judging by her ear-to-ear grin, was right up her alley.

Alastor’s eyes zipped down to your hand, still leaning in front with his hand retracted. “What’s that in your hand, darling?”

“Oh,” you frowned, holding up the book by instinct. “Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I’m trying to get into the classics and Charlie said to bring a book.”

“Dracula,” Alastor’s voice and tone darkened, and the static scratches of radio surrounded the three of you as his grin grew taller. “Such a classic indeed.”

Alastor finally took a step back from the both of you, but that didn’t warrant both of you enough of a reason to continue on your way just yet—your attention as well as Charlie’s was as good as trapped in Alastor’s hands.

“Charlie, may I borrow your friend for a moment?”

“Alastor! Right now, really?” She urged in gritted teeth.

“My sincerest apologies Charlie, I’ve just remembered some important matters we had agreed to settle the very moment we were free.” Alastor placed a hand to his abdomen before he gave a slight bow.

“We won’t be long,” he drawled in a prodding tone.

“What?” You barked after he let you into his quarters first before shutting the door behind him.

Alastor’s eyes traced your shoulders, your arms—then seemed to set up camp at your hands.

Your grip on your book tightened.

“I see you’re dedicated to your little outing with Charlie, hm?” Alastor circled you as he looked over your shoulder. He twirled around to the other shoulder while he clicked his stick to the ground to use as an axis.

The fire sputtered softly in the background. The renovations done to the hotel had certainly been setting into your skin now—the cover of your poor book had become damp with your sweat. The blaring reds of Alastor’s grand room had somehow been less overwhelming to look at than the man himself.

Your eyes zipped over to his chest, shit, why—how did you get here? Though your eye sockets had been yanking you to look his way anyway, your eyelids gave the threat of a blink that for some reason entailed certain death.

A spindly finger crept its way under your chin and tilted your head up. Your gaze naturally fell to his eyes, so narrow and sharp as they could’ve pierced into your own, but no—instead, his gaze took a step into yours. Ever the polite gentleman, letting you know he was letting himself in as your blinking flickered.

“My eyes are up here, darling,” Alastor buzzed in a gravelly voice that dug below the growling radio static.

You gulped, and it seemed that that had been enough for Alastor to release your chin. “Though I suspect it’s not the outing you’re excited about …”

“Alastor, we can talk about this later—”

“Oh, but we haven��t talked about us at all—not since the fall of Charlie’s hotel,” Alastor grinned but gave a pouting tone.

Right.

You had panicked the moment Alastor left for longer than he should have. When you were the only one who clearly didn’t hate him but didn’t hug him upon his return, he took it upon himself to ask about your attitude towards him. You confessed to having thought about him a little more than the rest of the crew, thinking you would be ripping the bandaid off when he laughs at your face and tells you he doesn’t like wasting his time on such sentiments—but lo and behold, he twirled you around to an old jazz song you couldn’t recognize and said—

“Why, I would be ridding myself of the one person who happens to be a pleasure to be around! Don’t be so harsh on yourself my dear, you’re quite a beauty to be relished, even if I am no such person for the job.”

Alastor’s fingers crawled up to his lips as they tapped in a rippling motion.

“Though, it does make me inclined to try …”

So there you were.

The past few days have been more than bearable with this subtle change as you would have expected with someone who wasn’t known to be into romantics. And Alastor had made it clear that you two were only exclusive without a label—but it seemed the current moment might be testing that statement’s validity.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you reasoned as you held the book to your chest with the title facing him.

Alastor’s eyes dropped back down to your book and up to you again as he shut his eyes.

“And you’re doing just a splendid job, my treasure. Letting me set the pace. But right now, I must admit … it’s rather difficult for me to see you reading quite possibly the most popular piece of fiction on vampires,” Alastor held back a sigh through his explanation, but it slipped between his theatrics nonetheless. “You do know I’m a cannibal, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” you insisted, and for some reason your voice dropped to a lower register as you frowned.

Your gaze had been drawn right back to Alastor’s prying own like a compass needle to the earth’s core—it wavered, but never wandered long.

“Then you should know it’s only natural for me to yearn for your taste,” Alastor hummed. “If only I had known you were enamored by such notions sooner …”

“What does it matter now? Right when I’m supposed to head out with Charlie too …”

“Is it really what you wish to do?” Alastor questioned with a cocked brow. “Because if so …” he stepped aside and showed you the door with his hand motioned towards it. “I will not stop you, my sweet.”

In your head, you prepared for your body to move—but you made one pathetic excuse for a step before you fell ice cold. Your head spun and whirred with the expectation of movement—but your body tensed with the commands your muscles refused to follow; like there had been a mix of commands in which your brain may have known what was right but the very blood that supplied your body remained loyal to the desires pounding in your rib cage.

“Well?”

Alastor stood rooted to his spot, and though his grin had turned into a tamed smile, you knew that underneath his closed eyes he’d been brimming for your answer.

“What … What are you going to do?” You asked innocently. There were a number of things already stirring in your head about your fate in the next ten minutes or so, but Alastor’s hell-renowned status had been built escaping the grasps of others’ expectations.

“What would you like me to do my dear?” He tilted his head at an unnatural angle as his sharp eyes narrowed at you once more, the static noise crackling much like the fire had—only this sound panted and prodded in your ear, demanding to be known.

“No, this is not how this works, Al,” you sterned as much as you could with the tremble in your voice. “You tell me exactly what you have in mind, then I will tell you what I think.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor cooed. “How clever.”

He made his way over to you, and your body reacted quicker than your mind as your steps matched his, only they brought you backwards while he stalked forward.

He leaned into your ear. “I’d like to know what you taste like, dear.”

You attempted to steel yourself as a shiver traveled from your arms to your spine. Alastor’s breath might have been warm but the shiver had shedded off half your warmth and preserved the rest on your cheeks.

He returned to his original position right in front of you, keeping your flickering gaze locked on his, even if his own hadn’t been half as loyal when they switched between your neck and the former.

“Not to worry. I won’t hurt you any more than I have to. I find those fangs that vampires possess quite appealing,” he commented. “So what do you say, darling?”

You nodded. You didn’t mean to.

But by this time your throat, your muscles, the very same ones tensed with the promise of Alastor’s tongue on your skin—they had been pulling the strings because you knew you wouldn’t do it all by yourself, acting so surprised by the things you’re saying.

“Please,” you whispered as you bit your lip. Now’s no time to be praying.

“I want you to bite me.”

Unless it’s to the very demon before you.

“Lovely.”

His hand slipped to your waist and steered you to the right and towards the edge of his bed.

You fell back, your book finally escaped your grasp and Alastor’s shadow casted over you completely.

He adjusted his tie as he set down his microphone, chin held high with a half-lidded glance at your book that laid askew on his bed. He picked it up and flipped it back to front briefly before setting it down on his bedside table like he’d been framing a picture.

“Now then,” he grinned, and his teeth had been completely altered with a straight row—the only two to stand out being the prominent fangs that ended on his lower lip.

Alastor swooped in and you shut your eyes tight from the gush of wind that accompanied him only to be met with his warm breath on your neck.

“I trust you know that this will hurt for an itty bitty moment, yes?” He warned with a voice so vile yet sultry, like his little remarks had slithered into your ear and lapped your head in jawbreaker promises filled with his venom.

You nodded quickly, and froze at once when he punctured you; fire spread throughout your neck, inflamed your cheeks, collarbones protruding as you clawed at his shoulders for purchase—and to your surprise, he adjusted your grip to loop around his neck, which in turn enveloped you closer to him.

A swirling sensation danced into the picture with your jugular pulsing against his teeth. Your flesh and muscles hugged the two blades that only sank deeper into you causing you to bruise even further. You winced, and Alastor’s tongue drew small circles where he had been sucking. Something had been dripping from you and Alastor was sure not to miss a single drop of you. At least, not from your neck.

You bit your lip once more, a sound rising past your throat and holding your tongue hostage. Warmth had now engulfed your jaw and neck as you craned it back to allow him easier access—what was previously festered had subsided into a dizzying pleasure, his fangs almost tickling you along with the wet trails left by his tongue.

Ice washed over the abused spot on your neck when his fangs left you, pieces of your skin still clung onto him until the very last second. He nibbled and bit further down and along your collarbone before he drew back.

He exhaled through his teeth, which had now grown out to be the regular sharp rows he possessed previously. With the way his eyes trekked on your shoulders and jaw, it took every muscle in your body not to shrivel under his critical eye.

“Oh, my dear, you’re absolutely glowing,” Alastor sighed, the inner corner of his brows arched up as his hands remained planted on either side of you. His smile faltered. “If you should even dare to think otherwise, come to me. I will fix what is wrong with this realm, and that is the wretch who convinced the moon and stars they were nothing but rotten work.”

Heavy knocks thundered from the door.

“Alastor! What’s taking so long?” Charlie reprimanded, which made you jolt when she uttered your name along with his. “We need to go!”

Alastor stepped back and dusted himself off which allowed you space to do the same. You fixed your shirt and ran towards the door only for a firm hand on your forearm to twirl you around and dip you, your hair falling away from your face.

“Alastor!” You hissed.

Alastor held up your book with his free hand. “I’m touched you’d let me keep this as a souvenir.”

You grabbed the book and headed for the door again. “I’m late.”

Charlie called your name once more.

“Coming!”

“That you will be,” Alastor chuckled.

You glared at him over your shoulder. “Big talk for an ace.”

“I never know what that means.” Alastor shrugged as he planted his microphone in front of him.

You rolled your eyes before opening and slamming the door behind you, leaving Alastor to think about what he was going to do about your attitude when you got back.

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sorcerersandskillusers · 3 months

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*SPOILER WARNING CHAPTER 112*

Something is really off about Fyodor's death in the manga

Having just read the latest chapter, I noticed something really weird with Fyodor death scene. It all comes down to Dazai's reaction.

Before Fyodor "death" we see Dazai being all smug and gloating about what Fyodor missed, very typical of his character in general.

But then his mood suddenly shifts completely

He suddenly becomes very sombre, no triumph or gloating, this could be him regretting having to kill Fyodor, but the next few panels make me think there's more too it then that.

Look at Dazai's expression here, the way he seems so suspicious of the hand

I don't think we've ever seen Dazai's eyes like this, they are blank white, it's almost like his mafia eyes but colour inverted. This is not the face of someone who just beat their greatest enemy, or someone mourning their loss, It looks like Dazai is unsatisfied, I can't quite describe it, but there is something more in those eyes.

After Fyodors death Dazai is uncharacteristically quiet and Chuuya even points it out, again, nothing about this says "we won!" it feels like we still lost somehow.

So why would Dazai not want Fyodor dead? While it could be because he was sad to lose the only person who thought like him, while that's possible, I want to explore another idea.

Death did not stop Fyodor.

Dazai could have killed Fyodor when he had him cornered in the cafe if he wanted to, or have someone else kill him so he doesn't break his promise to Oda.

But he didn't, he let Ango arrest him instead, even though Dazai knew what a threat he was, why?

It all comes down to this.

The only way Dazai can counter Dostoyevsky is when he's right there in front of him. So now he's dead, Dazai can't read his actions any more. It's like he's fighting a ghost, all the plans Fyodor will have laid in case he died will be 10x harder to uncover and stop since it's much harder to fight an invisible enemy.

Remember that Dazai did not order the piolet to kill Fyodor, Bram did, and Dazai admitted to not having any say in that deal

I don't have any final point here, I just wanted to vent these thoughts. Does Fyodor quoting jesus on the cross mean he's going to come back in three days? What's going on with Sigma? I have way more questions than answers and it's driving me nuts

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai #bsd analysis #bungou stray dogs theory #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd theory #bsd theories #bsd manga spoilers #bsd spoilers #bsd chapter 112

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girlboybug · 2 months

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Haunted

“my wicked tongue, where will it be, i know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me.”

or the one where it’s halloween at saltburn and you and farleigh ditch the party downstairs to celebrate with a little weed in your bedroom.

what’s playing 🎧: haunted by beyoncé

pairing : farleigh start x fem!reader (afab bodied)

*UNEDITED*

word count : 6k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, virgin!reader, bi coded! reader, heavy petting, grinding and dry humping, oral f!receiving, mentions of fingering, mentions of blowjobs, little bit of tip sucking oops, handjobs, light hair pulling, boob worship, sub coded farleigh for two seconds, smidge of overstimulation

TRIGGER WARNINGS : both reader and farleigh are high when they engage in the sexual activity but it’s all consensual they’re both equally high, ummmmmmmm hints of slut shaming in the beginning by farleigh but it’s not fr fr bc his ass is mother slut let’s be honest

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM ME TO YOU :3!

a/n : comments rlly motivate me so if you enjoyed this plz lmk down in the comments <3

venetia and felix are nowhere to be found amidst the neon mess of bodies that inhabit every orifice of what was once an almost eerily quiet and empty corridor just this morning. leaving you to be doomed to a fate of enduring a poorly put together semblance of…you think frankenstein, having a one sided conversation with you. “can i get you another drink?” he asks over the booming music and for the first time in the entire interaction you smile a genuinely smile, and nod with urgency. “god yes—please,” you respond eagerly, handing him back your cup. he takes it with an undeserving great sense of pride, and you exhale with relief once he disappears from your line of vision, hoping he loses you in the crowd.

“interesting costume choice,” a familiar, annoying, voice comments behind you. without even turning around yet, you find yourself rolling your eyes. you give him a once over and scoff. his fangs protrude from his smile, and you wish it looked cartoonish and stupid, but alas, he unfortunately looks good. really good. but over your dead body you’d ever admit that.

fake blood is dribbled from the corners of his mouth and two neat dots rest near his pulse on the side of his neck. a brow rises and crinkles your forehead, aiding in the faux judgment you cast upon him. “rich coming from the guy who’s wearing the most generic costume known to man.” you retort back, subconsciously withholding a level of snideness. you like the build of veiled insults you two toss back and forth, it’s never fun if you start off too strong. you enjoy the way you both ease into it. it’s a flow you’ve both unknowingly created for each other.

his head shifts to the side when he rolls his eyes and exhales under his breath, and your heart falters just a little lower within your ribcage when you see a bright red kiss stain on his jaw.

“it’s in reference to bram stoker’s dracula, a classic piece of literature, but you?” his eyes flicker over you, a little upward curve growing in the corner of his mouth. “i thought you’d be better than defaulting to a sexy version of marie antoinette.” he folds his arms over his chest, peering down at you, unbeknownst to the excitement that bubbles in the depths of his chest as he awaits whatever response you’re brewing in your head to bite back with.

heat plants itself like a seed in the pit of your stomach and extends its branches through your chest and across your cheeks at his observation. but a hefty cloud of pride quickly replaces it when his words ring through your head again.

he thinks i look sexy?

“i’m not a sexy marie antoinette. i’m just. Her.” you reply with a sense of smugness, seemingly stealing his, when a look of oh fuck flashes across his face. he’s quick to rid himself of it but you caught it, and you’ll be damned if you let go of the one time farleigh let himself waver in front of you.

“i meant slutty.” he replies cooly, uncaring, and you nod, a stupid grin on your face that he wishes he could wipe off. “you called me sexy.” your grin only grows and he’s already rolling

his eyes once more. “i know no one compliments you like you wish they would, so anything that remotely sounds like one is enough for you to latch onto, but i promise,” he steps forward and leans his neck downward towards you, not bothering to bend down to meet your height. “i meant slutty.”

a rush of something you don’t want to distinguish floods the shoreline of your lower stomach and trickles heat between your inner thighs at the way he speaks to you, but you hide it, barely allowing yourself to even acknowledge it. “the biggest slut i know calling someone else slutty, that’s funny,” you internally groan, knowing your reply wasn’t as witty as you’d intended.

before farleigh can verbally retaliate, your name is called out and you recognize who it belongs to, your dreaded frankenstein. you panic for a moment, dreading being back in conversation with him and you glance up at farleigh, hurriedly switching your bodies around, successfully shielding yourself with his stature.

he’s confused for a moment before realizing what you’re using him for. he laughs and you smack his back, hushing him. while you hide behind him you take the fleeting moments you have to outline his broad shoulders with your eyes, and how they trail into a slim little waist. his perfectly tailored suit hugs him just right, and it makes your throat get a little tight. you never took the time to notice farleigh’s physique, rather opting to semi-playfully belittle him. you find hints of regret in that.

he turns back around to face you and you snap back into the present, not the paused moment in which saltburn was empty and all that occupied it was you and farleigh and his broad back and small waist. “coast is clear.” he says, switching his weight onto one foot. “frankenstein? really?” he seems unimpressed, almost… irritated? you’re unsure.

you grumble and smooth down the invisible

wrinkles in your corset. “don’t start.” but he does anyway.

“didn’t know that was your type.”

“what?”

“somewhat stupid looking, bumbling.”

“what’s it matter to you?” you ask, wondering how far he’ll go with his dissertation on why the guy he has zero knowledge on is an idiot. “it doesn’t. it’s just getting a bit sad seeing that the only people who are interested in you are so…lacking.”

you suck on your teeth and nod, shrugging before you reply. “least i’m not fucking my teachers.” he heartily laughs, sticking his tongue in the bottom corner of his lip. “and yet, they all still trump your sorry excuses of flings.”

you open your mouth to correct him but you shut yourself up before you embarrass yourself. instead you just shake your head dismissively. you perk up when you remember a little secret pick me up you’ve been hiding. you reach into your cleavage, unaware of the way the sight stirs something inside of farleigh. you pull out the joint you tucked away for safe keeping, waving it with an offering smile. “wanna share?” you ask and he chuckles in shock at the proposition. “weed? you’re a pothead now?” you sigh annoyedly and glare up at him. “you wanna share or not? quick before i change my mind.” he smirks and nods, eyeing the joint then you. “i’ll oblige.”

he follows you to your room, holding your waist to wade through the pool of people, with you flush against him. you ignore the way his hands mold around your waist, his long fingers curled across your dress, and you especially ignore how you feel his rings through the thin material of your dress.

you don’t care.

you lean against the open window of your bedroom with the joint, not wanting to taint the air with the stench, knowing elspeth’s keen nose would immediately clock it the moment she walks into your room.

farleigh coughs a lot more than you would’ve expected him to and it makes you beam with a feeling of superiority. “you smoke like half a pack of cigarettes every day, how on earth is this making you cough so hard?” you snicker, handing him a water bottle you keep by your bed.

he glares at you, taking a hefty swig from your bottle, setting it down before extending his hand back out for the joint, determined to prove a point. “forgive me for not being used to smoking weed, unlike you, you addict,” he mutters through an exhale of smoke. you actually guffaw at his snippy little reply, for once in shock of something he has to say. “me? an addict? weed is probably the most harmless drug like—ever, whereas you, keep a keychain of literal cocaine on you almost at all times.”

he hates that he happens to have exactly what you just said on his person in this very moment. he tucks it away into his pocket and huffs. “i just do it socially, you’re probably up here all the time smoking alone like a loser by the window,” he has an infuriating self satisfied smirk when he speaks to you and you laugh sardonically, nodding along.

“well,” you say, taking in a hit, and letting it gently fan over his face when you exhale. “no one’s forcing you to engage in something apparently so below you,” you motion towards the door with a lazy jab of your head. “doors that way if you’re not enjoying yourself.”

he remains unfaltered in your cloud of smoke, letting it envelope him. he breathes it in, leaning against the windowsill. “do you want me to leave?”

“i always do.” you don’t miss a beat, a look that tells him you don’t really mean it is thinly covered with a fake smile, eliciting a chuckle through pursed lips from him. “i don’t believe you.” he murmurs when he inches back toward you, plucking the joint from your fingers. he takes another hit, it’s smoother, he’s more in control of it, and something flutters inside you seeing the way he closes his eyes as he exhales the smoke out the window.

“you’re insufferable,” you say hushedly, gently, and he chuckles quietly, handing you the joint. “and yet you keep me around anyway.”

“not by choice.”

—

as the night rages on, the joint you both share dwindles down into a dull roach, and you crush the bud into your porcelain ashtray, tucking it away and beneath your nightstand.

your legs feel a little wobbly, your body has significantly loosened up and your center of gravity feels a bit off, but you feel good, and it seems farleigh feels the same. his eyes are low and hooded, they look a little red — it’s cute, kind of endearing too but you keep that to yourself like a bashful secret. his face and overall demeanor seems to be relaxed as well, a lot more loosened up than he was just an hour prior.

you smile at him, and there’s nothing hidden under the action, there’s no cover up for anything. you’re just happy to be with him in a moment like this. and he returns it to you, full sentiment and all, filling you with a sense of contentment. “feel nice?” you ask breathily, collapsing onto your bed. he joins you, plopping down beside you when he replies. “mmhm. i like it,” he says, and his voice sounds a bit rougher from the smoke, his words laying on the edge of a rasp.

you shuffle around to lay on your side, your palm supporting the weight of your head, settling into a comfortable position. he copies your actions, switching around on his side to properly face you. he looks beautiful with the way the moon creeps in through your parted window, the pale light complements the highlights in his curls and makes them look golden; he looks golden. but when your eyes fall on the red kiss on his jaw, everything turns back to copper.

“who gave you this?” you question him quietly, sadly. like it physically hurts you to ask him. your fingers hover just above the lipstick stain, unable to get yourself to touch it. in your induced state you’ve convinced yourself that if you were to ever touch farleigh’s face, it won’t be in the spot someone else tarnished with their own touch first.

“why?” he answers your question with another question and you huff under your breath, your filter too worn out from the weed to hide your frustration behind a poker face. “why can’t i ask?” you push a little further and he snickers lazily. “why do you wanna know?” he counters and you roll your heavy eyes, letting yourself fall onto your back once more.

he scoots closer to you, angling his neck to look downward at you, and he pouts with faux concern. “you jealous?” he asks, perking up and leaning towards you with a beaming smirk. you scoff, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turn to look away. the proximity of your faces is too much to bear, but not for him, his index and thumb guide you right back by your chin to face him. he keeps your gaze on him in place, his wide palm cupping your cheek. your skin tingles under the coldness from his rings.

“tell me which one it is,” he says through a hushed exhale, leaning on his elbow, his eyes still angled down at you, his lips in an unintentional pout. “are you jealous of me, because why wouldn’t you be,” he hums on an airy note, drawn out and easy. his gaze flickers down to your lips and back up to your eyes. “or of whoever left it?” your mouth goes even dryer than you thought it could, and you’re unsure of what to say, what to think, and between the lack of space between both of your lips and the questions he’s asking, you’re left frazzled. scrambling for something, anything to say.

you’re not sure how to reply, you’re shocked he even asked that to begin with, and now it’s your turn to visibly falter in front of him. he looks at you expectantly, and a little part of him feels he’s won some mini challenge in your ongoing battle to embarrass the other. but there’s a different type of smugness in his small victory, perhaps a confirmation on something he’d been wondering about for awhile.

“i’m not jealous of either of you,” your voice falls upon a faint breath and his brows push together, nodding patronizingly. “oh i’m sure.” he pushes a little harder on your buttons, waiting for when you finally do something about it.

“why would i be jealous of someone who gets with just anybody?” you add, sitting up on your elbows, unintentionally leaning in closer, engaging him in the push and pull. he follows your flow in motion, inching in closer, just a little, keeping the space between you both minimal. he laughs softly from the center of his belly, flicking a brow up. “versus what? someone who doesn’t get with anyone? sounds boring.” he adds, tilting his head, your noses brushing against each other’s. “boring is better than whatever you bring back home at night.” his chuckle falls across your lips at your response, and you find yourself parting your lips to breathe him in.

“are you admitting to having a non-existent sex life? i’d say i’m shocked but i’m not,” he replies, his voice at the end of a whisper, a hazy, knowing smile rising in the corner of his lips. you take in a deep breath, smoothing out the duvet beneath your palms as you reply without a second thought to what you’re confessing to. “i’d rather get none than contract every std ever by fucking everyone who roams the halls at oxford,”

farleigh laughs initially, taking your playful jab before he pauses and looks at you a bit more seriously. a little too serious for your liking. it makes you burn up and inwardly panic. did you say something wrong? go too far?

“but you’ve had sex before…right?” he asks to clarify, sitting up a little straighter now. the burning sensation in your cheeks only heightens now. “um,” you’re once again left wondering how to reply but your pause acts as his answer alone. he sits all the way up now and you groan when you begin to hear the gears in his head shifting.

he says your name like he’s awestruck and you grab a pillow, pretending to suffocate yourself with it. he tosses it off of you and pulls you up to look at him. “you’ve really never…done it?” he asks again, unbelieving to this revelation. normally he’d find this to be a pot of gold chock full of new material to use against you but right now he’s in too much disbelief to act on any of this.

“no,” you huff, avoiding his stare. “why not?” he asks, lowering his voice in a softer tone this time. “dunno,” you shrug. “no one really caught my eye enough for me to wanna do it, and then you know college rolled around and i was just too busy for it.”

he half scoffs half laughs but it all stems from shock. “it’s impossible to be too busy for sex,” he opposes and you laugh dryly. “yeah for you, but i actually care about my grades,” he shakes his head, shooing any topic of academics away. “yeah yeah whatever,” he waves you off, as if he’s clearing the air for his next round of questions. “you’ve at least kissed someone right—“ you’re shutting him up with a pillow thrown against his chest and he laughs, pushing it out of the way. ”of course i have farleigh, don’t be stupid,” you laugh, embarrassment still blooming in the depths of your chest.

“i had to check!” he says defensively and your embarrassment grows when you realize he really was genuinely asking, meaning it’s believable that no one’s ever kissed you.

god.

you bury your face in the pillow that acted as your weapon just seconds ago, unable to face him.

his laughter rings pleasantly in your ears, his hands prying you away from the pillow, wanting to see you. “have you done…anything at all?” he asks, like it’s sensitive information he’s pulling from you, he’s gentler when he questions you, easing you into the topic. you nod, biting on your thumbnail as you recollect your sparse experiences.

“tell me about them,” he says, leaning back on both elbows, still turned to face you. you rest on your stomach, your forearms supporting your weight, situating yourself to share your run ins with fleeting intimacy. “well, it was freshman year back at oxford, some guy i think his name was theo—“

“theo wright?”

“uh yeah i think so—“

“well there’s your first mistake.” he says matter of factly, his words dying down towards the end when he sees your irritated expression.

“can i finish please?” you glare and he laughs, nodding. “is what you probably asked him right?” you stifle the laugh that almost slips out, opting to narrow your eyes at him annoyedly instead. “shush.” you huff.

“anyways, i dunno i think it was at some dumb welcoming freshman’s party and we went upstairs and we kissed in some guy’s bed and he rubbed my inner thigh for like 5 minutes, completely under the impression he was touching my clit.” you can barely make it through the description of your time with theo without farleigh doubling over and laughing, nudging your arm with his head.

“oh my god that’s good,” he exhales at the end of his laughter, pretending to wipe a tear from the corners of his eyes. “you poor thing,” he sighs, patting your cheek. “and did you say anything? like…correct him maybe?” and you shake your head dejectedly. “no. i had to pretend to cum so he would stop.” you admit, the regret from that night pinging through you.

farleigh coos at you apologetically, “poor baby,” he hums, patting your cheek, his ringed pinky casting away an imaginary strand of hair, finding any excuse there is to be near you, to touch you. you melt under his touch, fighting the urge to lean into it. “that’s the closest thing you’ve had to a hook up?” he asks, fully focused on you, making you a bit nervous from all his attention being directed at you. there’s no audience to perform your shared act for, it’s just you and him, and you think you like this change of pace.

you shake your head, laying back against the headboard, resting your legs across farleigh’s, to which he welcomes without hesitation, throwing an arm over them casually.

“i had one more. it was with noa…” you trail off, a bit shyer expressing this particular experience. farleigh however is nowhere near shy, the word is nowhere near his vocabulary, instead his interest has been piqued and it’s visible in the way his ears just about perk. “wait, girl noa or boy noah—uh keaton or deacon?”

you’re silent for a moment, letting the muffled thrum of music fill the air before you speak again. “keaton.”

he laughs, shocked but impressed, his tongue poking the hollow curve of his cheek as he nods. “noa keaton, interesting...” he repeats back, mostly to himself, somewhat in awe.

“don’t be weird about it,” you groan and he shakes his head, rubbing your calf comfortingly. “no no i’m not i just wasn’t expecting that. good for you though,” he winks at you and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah. anyways she um…she fingered me in the library,” a fluttery feeling lines your stomach at the memory and farleigh catches onto your pauses, noticing a more positive physical reaction when you mention her. “yeah? was it good?” he asks lowly, his voice huskier than it was a moment ago and you nod, leaning your head against the cold wooden headboard. “it was—thankfully; she actually knew what to do, you know?” he nods, chuckling. “makes sense. did you get to finish that time?” he asks as if he’s actually concerned, and the way his hand keeps running up and down your legs makes you feel as if he just might be.

you’re not used to discussing such topics with farleigh, it’s unfamiliar and his bluntness and shamelessness in being open with how curious he is as to whether or not someone has made you cum is catching you off guard, but most concerningly, it’s making you ache. “no,” you finally answer, sighing sadly. “almost did. but we also almost got caught and then you know, she dropped out. haven’t heard from her since.”

you expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. he takes a moment of silence and it acts as yet another surprise tonight; farleigh is capable of being quiet.

“so you haven’t had any experiences worth writing home about then, huh?” he verges on a whisper, his voice cradling the sides of your face, guiding your eyes back to his. you nod and he hums in tune to something similar of patronizing. “let alone any real ones,” he adds, his thumb swirling over your knee. you shrug lightly, anxiously fiddling with the ruffles at the skirt of your dress.

“do you want one?” he asks, his eyes keeping you still in place and you gasp silently, swallowing thickly. “want what?” you manage to reply, your nerves blanketing over you. “a good experience.”

you stare at him for a second, unsure if he’s really just said what he said, but in the case that he did, you nod like you’ve been entranced by a siren song. with the way that farleigh speaks to you while maintaining eye contact, the way his hand tempts you alone with a few gentle touches upon your leg, you might as well have been.

he smiles at your agreement, sliding his hand down to your ankle and tugging you towards him. you gasp, yelping with low volume as you slide down your bed. he pulls you in close, climbing further into your bed until he’s on top of you.

his hooded eyes peer down at you, drinking you all in, so beautiful and pliable beneath him. he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running along it and smearing your lipstick across your chin. he dips between your lips, smirking to himself when you kiss the pad of it.

he pulls away leaning downward until his nose nudges yours. “tell me i can kiss you,” he tells you, his words fanning out against your lips, and you nearly moan from the proximity itself. “i want you to kiss me.” you whisper back and you sweat you see a smile on his lips before they’re on yours.

you moan with relief, embarrassingly desperate to have farleigh on you. you’re chest to chest, lips interlocked with his cock pressed up against your clothed crotch, grinding lightly. he groans in your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip as if it were secreting nectar. he’s starved from the weed consumption, and all those months of this incessant back and forth you two shared is all coming back full force, and you can feel it in how hard he kisses you and the hunger that lies underneath it all.

his hand travels from the back of your knee, gliding over your leg and up your thigh, squeezing your hip when his hand finds purchase there. he ruts into you in waves, breaking apart from your lips, much to your dismay, to kiss and nip at your neck, rinsing you of the disappointment from the momentary lack of closeness.

“farleigh,” you breath out, your knees locking him in on either side of his hips, pushing up to meet his grinding motions. “what baby?” he mumbles, raspy and heavy and it makes your clit throb. “feels s’good,” you sigh lazily, arching your back into his chest. he chuckles, his ego rising with every little moan you give him.

“better than what theo did?” he asks, pushing his bulge right up against your clit, and you whimper, nodding stupidly. his signet ring tickles you through your thin panty hose when he inches closer between your thighs. your breath stops in the middle of your throat as he nears your cunt. “can i touch?” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours. you moan under your breath, nodding. “please?” you beg, heavy eyes of yours gazing at him from beneath your eyelashes, lips pouted desperately.

he doesn’t make you ask again, he’ll save that for another endeavor he hopes you two will indulge in again. for now he’ll give you what you want without making you work for it. at least, too hard.

he rubs you through your panty hose, sucking in a sharp breath. “fuckin’ soaked through baby,” he groans, kissing you hard.

the wind in your lungs has abandoned you, the air in the room playing cat and mouse with you amid your struggle to keep up. farleigh’s touches making the feat all the more increasingly difficult. he sends you one last kiss on your lips, sponging one to your chin, then down your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts.

“can i take this off?” he murmurs, his chin just beneath your sternum, fingers toying with the laces of your corset. you rest on your elbows, looking down at him, the way he peers up at you alone could convince you to commit the most heinous crimes. you nod, reaching down to untie them, but he’s quick to stop you. “let me do it,” he says, grasping your wrists. you swallow thickly, glancing at how his large hand easily holds both your wrists with ease.

he takes his time unlacing your corset, wanting to savor this juncture in time. he’s slower than you thought he’d be, treating you like a ribbon wrapped present, if he’s too rough it may all fall apart and honestly you just might if he doesn’t move any faster.

“farleigh,” you whine, sitting back up. “hurry up or it stays on,” you nearly growl and he laughs, tugging everything undone with a harsh tug, opening your corset and baring your breasts. you gasp, instinctively covering yourself. he shakes his head, tsking you when he pulls your arms away. “thought you wanted me to hurry up?” he bites back just a little, playfully, and you glare at him. he doesn’t care, he’s already lowering himself back between your thighs, holding you by your calves to spread you open.

he grips your calf, the other squeezing your thigh, using them to keep you wide open for him. his hands are warm and firm around your flesh, and his tongue is wet and hot against your clothed cunt.

the small act alone propels you into hedonism, reminding you of how good pleasure can be, how all consuming it is, and in this moment it feels as though farleigh is the only one who can provide any relief for the burning engine grinding in the pit of your stomach, aching to be satiated.

“farleigh,” you whine, throwing your head back when he mouths at your cunt, his tongue burns through your thin layers but it’s not enough, you want his tongue to brand itself right up against your clit.

your desires and needs are caught through your drawn out breaths, tugging at the air in jagged gasps. he reads through all your little sounds, and without any coherent words needed, he digs a nail into your pale pantyhose, ripping them in the crotch and pushing your panties to the side, burying his tongue right where you need it to be, searing your soaked flesh with every broad flick of the wet muscle.

you gasp almost like it hurts, but it’s quite the opposite. he laps you up and devours your cunt like he’s trying to reach your heart, grappling around your legs and gripping your hips to keep you in place, starved for something sweet. his eyes that have held you inside silent conversations amidst a gathering of people are now shut, tucked away behind his eyelids and long lashes, too focused on the way you taste and how he can’t seem to get enough of you.

he’s never been this hungry before, and maybe it’s the weed or maybe it’s the simple fact he’s fantasized about this more often than he’d like to admit. on more than just a singular off handed occasion, his hand has slipped beneath his boxers, jaw clenched, eyebrows drawn together and teeth gritted, almost begrudgingly to the act itself.

but he always gives in.

the fantasy is always the same, it’s prompted by whatever stupid argument you two found yourselves in, and he shuts you up with his mouth latched onto your cunt, erasing any quips or snarkiness left in you and replacing them with the sounds of you struggling to barely even moan his name. and now that it’s real, he can’t just stop now, he wants to prolong this moment for as long as he can.

his nose swipes across your clit, pulling a drawn out moan from the depths of your chest, and you shudder, trying to find something to hold onto for security, but farleigh’s a step ahead of you, eagerly offering his hands for you to take. you do so, desperately, lacing your fingers together and whimpering when he takes in a dull quick breath before pouring himself into your cunt, flicking his tongue right there, and moaning to himself at the way you just melt into him.

you roll your hips into his mouth sporadically, with no real rhythm, your body reacting with violent jerks as if his tongue were electric, and he takes it all in stride, squeezing your hands lovingly.

and when he sucks on your clit, it’s too much, you can’t take it, it pulls you into a state of thick molasses, gleaming and aureate, only to settle into the center of your stomach, pushing inward and arching you forward into pure ember, sizzling through you until it reaches your fingertips.

you can hardly hear or feel yourself breathe, everything’s buzzing and muffled, honey coats your skin and encases you in its sweetness.

you can’t help the twitching in your hips and lower stomach, whimpering in pleasured agony when you come back to earth and feel farleigh’s mouth still on you, moaning to himself and toying with your clit between his lips.

you’re untangling your fingers, and he grunts when you try to squirm away from his mouth, but he’s not having it, gently smacking your hipbone, silently chastising you.

you whine, taking in hefty gasps, it’s starting to hurt but in a way you can’t say is bad. it’s just so overwhelming, it makes you burn from the inside out and you can’t stop the thin stream of tears that escape from your heavy eyes. your bare breasts heave in the thick air, your mouth is parted with a choppy flow of pleadings with farleigh.

he slowly relents, planting one last firm kiss against your clit, peppering smaller ones across your hips and lower tummy, making his way back up to you. “hi,” he smiles as if he wasn’t just tongue deep inside your cunt. he swipes away the streaks of mascara tinted tears from your eyes, laughing breathily at the sight of your lack of coherence. “hi,” you exhale, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. his eyes shut when he leans into you, taking your lips in his. the taste of you is heavy on his tongue, heat fanning across your cheeks when you realize that bittersweet taste in his mouth is you.

your hand rests on his chest, slowly slipping lower and lower until you reach his bulge, palming him with fervor but maintaining some form of sensuality, albeit fueled with a sense of rushed desperation. you break apart from his lips and his head tilts forward, chasing after your kiss. you sponge a kiss against the corner of his lips, angling a downcast tilt towards his cock, mouth agape and eager to take him in. but he’s holding your jaw, stopping you and bringing you back to meet his gaze.

your eyebrows knit together with almost a betrayed curiosity. “why not?” you ask, almost naively, and he shakes his head, his thumb gently swiping across your bottom lip. “you don’t have to do that baby,” he promises, and it only increases your desire to take him in your mouth when you can practically hear all the inhales and exhales of smoke he took prior, how it leaves a rich rasp in his voice.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to,” you just about cross your heart for him to emphasize the genuine ache to suck him off, already feeling that familiar throng of tingles set off again between your thighs.

“another time, it’ll be too much for you right now,” he unintentionally sounds patronizing and it rubs you the wrong way. you let out something that’s a more annoyed version of a scoff, folding your arms. “i can handle it farleigh, if you think i’ll be bad just be honest and don’t hide behind fake reasons.” a cloud of insecurity beginning to muddle your mind.

he rolls his eyes, a faint smile on his lips betrays his act of annoyance. “you and your pride,” he mutters under his breath, a veil of adoration lacing through it.

“don’t be a brat,” he murmurs with a luster of playfulness, “i just don’t want to overwhelm you with too much too soon,”

you frown, moving away strands of hair from his face, sighing. “is this okay then? too much?” you whisper hotly in his ear, leaning up into him. you reach beneath his dress pants and boxers, wrapping your hand around the thickness of him and hiding your surprise at how big he feels in your palm, and how you can barely wrap around him with your fingers.

he falters above you, groaning in the crook of your neck with whimpers of please. you take this opportunity to guide him a little further on his side, lightly pushing him onto his back. you tuck yourself into his side, his arm pulling you in and holding you close. you shove his pants down just enough to fully free his cock. arousal thrums all along your cunt once he’s freed from his pants. a twinge of gratefulness is in your gaze when you look back at farleigh’s low eyes. taking him down your throat admittedly would’ve been a difficult feat and you’re relieved he stopped you from doing so.

however you won’t admit to that, instead you wrap your hand around him, dragging your thumb around his tip, giggling when he winces with pleasure, curling into you.

you rest your chin on the top of his head, whimpering above him when he takes one of your nipples between his lips, swirling his tongue around them as you jerk him off.

“fuck,” he bucks his hips into the warm curl of your palm, running his fingers across your ribs, tugging you in closer towards him. he moans your name like its a saving grace into the valley of your breasts, inhaling your sweet perfume deeply. “does that feel good?” you ask softly, genuinely, and he groans, nodding.

“j-just, squeeze me right there,” he swallows hard, wrapping his large hand around yours when you travel a little further up his cock. you nod attentively, taking note of everything he likes. “tell me what else makes you feel good,” you murmur through kisses, planting them across his cheekbone. he fucking whimpers into your dampening flesh and your clit throbs at the sound.

“i like when you touch me right here,” he admits breathlessly, guiding your thumb to his tip. you nod, taking longer strokes, tightening your slickened grip and glazing over his sensitive tip.

“just like that, fuck,” he groans, panting heavily at the rhythm you’ve developed together. “you’re so cute like this,” you giggle lightly in his ear, teeth grazing his ear teasingly. you pump your wrist a little faster, feeling cocky at the way he falls apart in your hold, completely and utterly at your mercy.

he can’t help the way he tries to fuck your hand, grinding his hips desperately, neck bared for you when he throws his head back. you slide your arm a little further underneath his neck, cradling him close to your side, using your free hand to scratch at his scalp. his hips jerk and he moans, leaning into your gentle touches.

your eyes fall onto the wretched kiss stain on his skin once again, clenching your jaw. you smear it off of him, the flare up of jealousy sanctioning something in you to start dragging your wrist up and down a little faster, squeezing him a little tighter. pride rises within you when you see how receptive he is to it, trembling in the confines of beneath your wings.

you kiss the top of his head as he defaults right back into the sanctuary of your chest. his stubble tickles your skin, and you grow fond of the sensation. your poor hole clenches around nothing when your eyes peer down to see his cock weep in your hand, precum leaking and dribbling down your knuckles, agonizing over the same desire you possess.

the wet sound eliciting from your hand and his cock is stirs a familiar buzz in your clit and you wonder what the tip of his cock would feel like rubbing against your clit. skin to skin. with each drag of your hand over him, you start to feel the ache settle back inside you, wishing your hand was your cunt taking him in. feeling each vein you feel right now but inside you, feeling his fat tip prod and hit right where your fingers could never reach. your fantasizing shows through the way you continue to jerk him off, growing hungrier and hungrier with each stroke.

“baby,” he groans into the thick air, as he lays helplessly beside you. “i wanna see you cum,” you whisper in his ear, unintentionally cushioning his face with your breasts and the act alone almost has him cumming in your hand.

he grips your lower back, burying his face in your chest, his body going rigid and firm, his cock twitching in your hold. “shit i think i’m— fuck baby tell me i can cum,” he begs, pressing needy kisses across your chest. you nod, pulling at the back of his curls forcing him to look at you. “you can cum for me farleigh,” you pour your words out to him like a rich wine and it’s all he needs to let go.

he can’t stop his eyes from falling shut in a tight pinch. his body locks up, his mouth parts open to pant in the air, his neck still displayed for your teeth to sink into, hips sporadically fucking into your pumping wrist.

you quickly release him, ducking down to wrap your lips around his cock head. you hold back the smile that threatens to pluck the corner of your lips upward when he gasps loudly and whines your name with a pure churning ache.

you shut your eyes when he cums on your tongue, pleasantly surprised at the taste. he cums more than you would’ve expected but you take it all, eager to please him.

you gently lap at his tip, pushing your forearm on his stomach when he convulses from the sensitivity. “f-fuck, baby,” he breathes out, pulling you back up to him. he brings you down to his lips, guiding you onto your back when he kisses you.

it’s his turn to taste himself on your tongue and the thought of his cum gracing your mouth has his softening cock giving one last twitch. his hands run up and down your sides, savoring your skin and praying his hands and fingers memorize each curve and indent. “you’re so hot,” he whispers against your lips. you peck him, feeling warm. “i know.” he smiles, pecking you back.

he collapses beside you, straightening out the charm from your necklace back to the center of your collarbones and despite everything that transpired between you two, the small action still makes you feel flushed.

“would it be okay if i slept with you in your bed tonight?” he asks quietly, anxiously. you nod, turning to look at him with a delicate smile that tells him you’re more than happy to have him stay with you. “i’d be upset if you didn’t.”

relief floods him, in return allowing him to abide by his instincts to scoot closer towards you. he curls into your side completely, long limbs overtaking you and intertwining you two until you feel like you’re one.

“night.” he whispers, his lips ghosting over your shoulder, unsure if he’s still allowed to plant a kiss there. you’re too sleepy to notice, content enough with being in his arms. “goodnight,” you repeat back softly, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

523 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 7 months

Text

Title: Final Girl.

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.4k.

TW: 'Girl' Is In The Title But Reader Is Gender Neutral, Death and Blood, Mentions of Guns, Manipulation, Implied Kidnapping, and Spoilers for the Ninteenth-Century Novel Dracula.

The night you met him was, by no coincidence, also the night you learned what it meant to feel your blood run cold.

‘Met’ might’ve been an exaggeration. You didn’t meet him so much as you stood still and stared at him – lumbering down the hallway, clutching a gore-splattered butcher's knife, his suit disheveled and stained with a dark, blotting substance you couldn’t bring yourself to put a name to, in your fear-induced paralysis. With the manor's high ceilings and dim lighting, he seemed impossibly tall, his black eyes blank and terrible, his smile manic in a way that sent a chill up your spine, that left you frozen where you stood and unable to run as he came to stand in front of you, as he raised a hand and—

And pointed to the book tucked under your arm, a yellowed paperback beaten to hell and back from weeks of loving abuse. You’d spent hours wondering if you should bring it with you, if there was anyone else on the face of the planet who’d be stupid enough to bring a book to a mascarade ball, but you figured you’d have to step out for a breath of fresh air at some point, tonight, and phones weren’t really an option at this kind of thing. Looking back on it, you struggled to remember why you’d spent so much time agonizing over something so inconsequential, especially when whoever found your body likely wouldn’t pay it a second glance. “Is that—” He started, pausing to wet his lips before correcting himself. “Is that Bram Stoker’s Dracula?”

You blinked several times, shifting your weight. “It is,” you managed, eventually, just before the point of no return. “I… I’m only a few chapters in, though. They’re only on the second blood transfusion.”

His smile widened. “I’m reading it for the second time, now. That’s one of the best passages - you can practically feel the dread mounting in the prose.” While he spoke, you stole another glance at his attire. With your shock beginning to fade and your nerves given a few seconds to cool, you could see that he clearly hadn’t just walked out of a crime scene. His clothes were wrinkled, but not torn, not displaced the way they would’ve been if he’d been in a real fight, and he was covered in a cartoonish amount of (presumably fake) blood. He couldn’t have meant for it to be realistic, not unless you were supposed to believe he’d bled twenty people dry on his own.

He must’ve noticed you staring. His rambling trailed off into an airy chuckle, his free hand drifting to his blood-soaked shirt. “I’m afraid I might’ve misread my invitation,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. You were almost in awe of his nonchalance. Showing up to a masquerade ball in a costume fit for a b-rated haunted house would’ve left you catatonic for… god, the rest of the year, at least. “That’s how I found my way back here, actually. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to stay in the ballroom for very long, considering I’m dressed for a very different party.”

“No, no, that makes a lot of sense! I mean, a costume party would be more in-season.” You felt like an idiot. You could only hope you hadn’t looked as scared as you felt. “Honestly, I’m just surprised they let you in with a prop.”

He glanced to his ‘knife’, too, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. “Oh, this little thing?” He took the blade in his free hand, bending it downward. Unceremoniously, it snapped into two pieces as easily as if it’d been made of little more than tin foil and plastic - which, to be fair, it probably was. “Most people struggle to see me as a threat, for whatever reason.”

“The doormen probably just felt bad for the strange man who showed up to a charity gala covered in blood.” You spared a small smile, then genuinely brightened, taking up your novel and fishing out the spare mask you’d shoved between the pages while you were getting ready. He should’ve counted himself lucky that you could never be bothered to find a real bookmark. “Mine came in a set of two,” you explained, signaling for him to bend down. A little too easily, he obeyed, stooping just low enough for you to work your spare mask over his head. It was cheaper than anything you would usually like to show off – the base simple black cloth, the embroidery meaninglessly gaudy, the main body kept in place by little more than a simple white ribbon that never seemed to sit just right, but he accepted your offering with a grateful hum. “It’s not much, but—” You paused, buttoning his suit jacket, doing your best to make it look a little less like he’d just walked out of a bad slasher movie and a little more like a tragically color-blind, but ultimately well-dressed party-goer. “It should get you through the door.”

He straightened his back, and you thought you might’ve seen something spark in his dark eyes. Then again, it could’ve just been the moonlight. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

Oh, right – that was something most people did before offering to fix a stranger’s clothes, wasn’t it? You rushed to introduce yourself, and he did the same. “Chrollo Lucilfer.” And then, offering you his hand, “Perhaps I’d be more warmly received with a plus one?”

As hesitant as you were to slip back into the ballroom on the arm of a disheveled stranger who’d already made an impression of his own, it would’ve broken your heart to turn him down. That, and you might’ve had a weakness for disheveled strangers who fell on the more handsome side of the spectrum.

You laughed as you threaded your arm through his, letting Chrollo guide you back to the main event. A second passed with only the sound of your footsteps and distance music to fill the quiet, then another. Eventually, you broke the silence. “It’s very well-written,” you started, trying to fight the urge to fidget. “But… I don’t think I’m the right audience. I care too much about Lucy. Seeing her go through so much and knowing she’s not going to make it is just—” You sighed, shook your head. “It’s agony. Especially when the villain is literally in the title. I mean, I know the characters don’t know that, but still.”

“The benefit of a voyeur's perspective.” For all his glowing praise, he didn’t seem very offended. “I think the dramatic irony is part of the appeal. By the time the tension breaks, it’s nearly too painful to keep going.”

“Which is exactly why it hurts to read,” you groaned, slumping into his side. “I get why it’s happening, but I just can’t stand spending so long on the build-up knowing how it’s going to end. It probably doesn’t help that Lucy’s one of my favorites, either. Well, aside from Mina, but it wouldn’t be fair to compare her to the author’s self-insert.”

The two of you came to a pair of rounded oak doors. There’d been a pair of attendants stationed outside when you left, but Chrollo didn’t seem to mind shouldering it open himself, ushering you inside with a smile and an idle gesture. You took a second to steel your nerves, still not entirely prepared to throw yourself into a very crowded room filled with very loud music and very eager socialites, then crossed the threshold, coming face to face with—

Carnage. Pure, unadulterated carnage.

There were bodies everywhere, each corpse mangled and bruised and broken in every possible way. Dark blood and broken glass covered the formerly pristine ivory floor, and the walls were painted with the remnants of gunfire. A few people were still standing – the murderers, you figured, judging by the blood on their outlandish clothes, the weapons in their hands, the indifferent agitation written across their expressions as you stared at them in horror, as your heart threatened to give out for the second time that night. The tallest man you’d ever seen pointed a hand-held machine gun in your direction, but Chrollo found his way back to your side, resting a hand on your shoulder as he spoke. “Hold your fire,” he said, casually, as if you weren’t standing at the edge of a bloodbath. As if he’d known what he was leading you into. “I think I’m going to keep this one.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. The air hitched in your throat as he brought a hand up to your chin, tilting your head back and forcing you to meet his unblinking stare. You’d been right the first time. There was never anything his eyes could’ve been but terrible. “I always did like Mina.”

There was never anything he could’ve been but a monster, prowling for his next kill.

“I guess I just have a soft spot for survivors.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagines #yandere hxh #hxh imagines #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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oikasugayama · 5 months

Note

If your requests are still opennn—Perhaps an alignment chart or hcs of how easily jealous bsd men are. please if you want!

let's goooo! mildly NSFW, MDNI bc that's awkward for me as an adult

Mori is jealous and quiet. He'll be mostly tame, but if someone really upsets him and makes him jealous, he'll put a hit on them. He wont play around when he feels like someone is threatening his relationship.

Fyodor is very, very similar to Mori in this regard. He won't put up with someone threatening his relationship, but instead of putting a hit on them he'll slowly get more and more sadistic, mentioning personal details about this person and their loved ones and threatening them until they leave you alone and Fyodor is sure they'll never, ever come back into your life.

Akutagawa will seethe and will try to pull you away from whoever is making him jealous. He's so quiet and angry on a general basis that no one can tell he's jealous except for you. You know he is because he pulls you into a nearby lockable room and fucks you over the desk, muttering about how dare someone encroach on his property, and don't you dare ever leave him for some stupid idiot like that.

Chuuya will put up with someone making him jealous for a little while but if it goes on too long or if the person starts to act cocky, he gets pissed. He'll slowly start touching you more and trying to get you away from the person bugging him. Later that night he'll fuck you good and sweetly and reassure you how much he worships you and how no one will ever treat you as well as he does.

Dazai is expected to be loud and whiny and obvious when he's jealous, but he does that for show a lot. When he's really, truly, obviously jealous, he's silent. He's quiet and cold. He'll make snarky remarks and start belittling whoever is bothering him. He's cruel and vicious, like back in his Mafia days. To you he's smug and cool, using his low and level voice until you're squirming and afraid of what he's gonna do. (What he does is fuck you until you're dumb and drooling, too worn out to even speak)

Sigma, Junichiro, and Oda aren't jealous, and they're very chill. Sigma doesn't exactly know to be jealous--you're his and that's basically a contract between you, so he's not worried when someone else shows interest in you. You're lovely, why wouldn't someone else like you? Junichiro may get whiny if he thinks you're giving someone else too much attention, but he isn't jealous in the way that others are. He knows you're coming home to him. Oda thinks you're a free person and can do what you want. He's confident in your relationship. Not jealous.

Bram and Nikolai couldn't give any less of a shit about someone flirting with you. They'll both go sicko mode and kill a man in cold blood if he crosses a line, and they know that everyone knows they think that way, so they're not jealous at all because they're so damn vicious.

Fukuzawa isn't really jealous and he's very calm, but he does like to keep close to you if someone is getting too friendly.

Ranpo will straight up whine and tell someone to leave his partner alone and stop flirting with them. If they don't go away, he'll straight up tell you he's getting jealous and wants to leave.

Poe will write sad mopey poetry about being upset that someone wants you. He'll even get mopey and handsy right in front of them. He feels very insecure when someone flirts with you, so he absolutely is the jealous type and he makes it very obvious. You have to remind him a lot that you want him and no one else.

Ango and Kunikida are similar. No one expected them to be the jealous type, but they both waited for so long to be in a relationship. When they finally found the perfect person adn settled down, they vowed to protect you and that relationship. They get jealous when someone is overstepping, and they get cunty about it. Very passive aggressive, and not afraid to lie to make the person go away or to pull you away. I can see Kunikida early in the relationship being annoyed that you "let" someone make him jealous, but he'll cut that out when you tell him it isn't your damn fault.

Mushitaro is CUNTYYYYYY when he's jealous. He's like if Mori and Fyodor weren't passive aggressive. He'll straight up threaten to murder someone and remind them that his ability lets him commit the perfect crime. He'll insult people, belittle them, do anything to make them go away and then ignore you for a few hours becausea he's mad someone else wanted you.

Atsushi is like Poe in that he's insecure so he gets jealous sometimes in a sad way, but he also gets jealous in a possessive way when someone flirts with you. He's the type to give a devastating one liner ("wow it's so funny that you think you're handsome enough to flirt with my partner (: ") and then he'll take you home and fuck you whiny and needy.

Tachihara is similar to Mushitaro's snippy, rudeness, and he'll fuck the shit out of you in the bathroom so anyone who wanted to flirt with you hears it and knows to leave you alone.

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serapheemz · 8 months

Text

ִ ࣪♫₊ Both of you (at the same time)

With a few lingering touches from Nikolai and some eye-fucking type of stares from Fyodor, you're reduced to nothing but a sweaty, moaning, needy mess.

CW : Reader uses pronouns they/them for gender neutral purposes ; Nikolai and Fyodor kinda degrade and praise at the same time? ; Rough sex ! (*´꒳`*)

Being trapped with the Decay of Angels sucked.

Words could not describe the anguish you felt every time you heard Nikolai's annoying ass scream at the top of his lungs, or see the malicious plans that Fyodor had in mind, displayed across thousands of papers you and the rest of the organization had to read.

Sometimes, you didn't mind, though.

Yes, life truly was abhorrent around them, and whilst you despised hearing and seeing them every day, you still garnered an inkling, a sparkle in your eye and heart each time you saw Nikolai and Fyodor.

Which proved to be weird since you didn't feel the same way around Sigma, Bram or Fukuchi.

Just yesterday, during breakfast hours, you found yourself gazing and admiring the two men. The devil, Dostoevsky, was deep in thought, as usual, and the clown kept on blabbering about nonsense without ever needing to stop and rest his tongue. Truly, you had no clue why you'd been behaving this way. You genuinely thought it was your eyes deceiving you. Why were they looking extra handsome today?

You ran your fingers through your disheveled morning hair, eyes peeled as to understand what was so damn alluring about the men in front of you. Your tea was getting cold, and your food was getting stale, which Sigma wasn't appreciative of. He eyed you down, furrowing his eyebrows at your dazed look.

"Y/n, your food's getting cold, and I don't plan on making you another plate."

The sudden ring of his voice woke you up from your daydream. You nodded and apologized to Sigma. It was really rude of you to let your food go to waste, especially after he prepared it for everybody with so much 'love' and 'care'.

Then Nikolai glanced at you, catching your hectic expression, nearly giggling at the sight of how red your cheeks had become.

You'd be a fool if you thought they didn't notice your fixed leer on them these past few days and you'd be an even bigger fool to think they didn't take full advantage of it.

It started with simple touches.

During the day and meetings, Fyodor had instructed Nikolai to tease you in a way that'd drive you mad, and Nikolai chose subtle touches as his torture method. Randomly, especially during the morning, he'd graze his hands against yours, but not enough to make it seem intentional. Other times he'd 'accidentally' bump into your side, but what got you over the edge was the hugs that lingered a few seconds too long and his hand placement.

Often, you found Nikolai's hands glide over your back and onto your rear for only a few moments, before pulling back around your torso.

It wasn't out of the ordinary for Nikolai to hug people. He often did so, without asking a lot of the time, too, but the way he hugged you, made you feel delirious with how warm and nice his arms felt around you.

However, it didn't stop there.

Not only was Nikolai on your ass, Fyodor was too.

Fyodor was never really one to be touchy with people, unlike his partner Nikolai. He was a reserved man, so his choice of torment was inflicted on you through his prolonged ogle.

You've never felt so naked while being fully clothed, and it was all because of Dostoevsky's eyes regularly undressing you. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't exciting feeling his eyes observe your every move. It felt so... exhilarating.

It wasn't long before you broke under their bewitching spell, their charisma proving very handy to lure you right into their trap.

And what a nice trap it was.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Fyodor's fingers tangled and detangled your hair, burying them deep in and massaging your temples as you struggled to take his cock in your mouth.

"My, what a good bitch we've got on our hands, haven't we, Mykola?" He addressed to his friend, whose hands playfully squeezed your cheeks, causing you to struggle and moan, sending vibrations around the raven-haired male's dick.

Nikolai's hips pressed hard against yours, holding them down on his lap as your tongue swirled and your spit drizzled down Fyodor's tip.

"Look at Nikolai behind you. Isn't he making you feel good?" Fyodor grasped your chin, gently pulling your mouth and lips off his dick and forcing your head to look back at the white-haired man.

You nodded frantically, leaning back into Nikolai's chest as you puffed and coughed for more air. The heat in the room was latching onto your skin, sweat beads forming on your forehead and trickling down to your crimson cheeks.

You squealed as Nikolai pushed himself deeper inside, your walls squeezing him tightly as he groaned, " So fucking tight..." He snickered and ran a hand alongside your sweaty figure, feeling every fissure and bit of your body against his palm.

Fyodor sat down in front of you, grabbing one of your legs and yanking it on his shoulder. There was this mischievous glimmer in his eyes you couldn't ignore and you soon found out what he had in plan for you.

With the help of Nikolai and the support of a wall, they used their shared leverage to their advantage.

Fyodor's hands grazed the back of your ass, coming down to land a smack against it before rubbing the reddened mark. His lips pecked your nape, now having switched positions with Nikolai. You stared, breathing heavily as Nikolai slowly pushed inside you again, the familiar feeling of his cock warming up your insides and causing you to tip your head over to the side, rolling your eyes back. You whimpered at the feeling of it hitting that same spot that made your back arch, the pleasure so immaculate it caused you to squirm and gasp.

"You're so in love with Mykola's dick, how about mine, hm?" Fyodor whispered into your ear, kissing your earlobe as if he was asking you something you were too far gone to comprehend and answer on the spot. Thankfully, Nikolai's rough slap against your cheek woke you up to your senses.

"Uh huh, please... I want you both, please."

The men exchanged glances as they heard your request.

Smiling, Fyodor smooched your shoulder, his lips leaving you yearning for more. Nikolai's grip on you increased and he pressed his own lips into yours, swirling his tongue around them, urging them open, and of course, you gave into his silent implore, letting the man in front of you do as he pleased with your mouth, feeling every part of it, how warm and wet it felt and how your plush lips quivered every time you'd let out another slutty moan.

Your head staggered back into Fyodor's as he slowly entered you. A pained expression painted itself on your face as you gasped and whined.

"Fuck- fuckin' hurts... Colya, Fedya...! "

But, they didn't stop.

Fyodor pressed on inside of you, stretching you out as Nikolai attempted at thrusting again, causing you to groan at the growing ache and burn Fyodor was inflicting on you. Your eyes welled up in tears and Nikolai watched them dribble on your cheeks before kissing and whirling his tongue around the saltiness sprinkled across.

"You keep bitching about how bad it hurts but haven't even asked us to stop." Nikolai moaned and moved his lips to your own.

God, that burning sensation felt fucking delightful, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it or say anything, not while Fyodor and Nikolai were both inside of you, at the same time. It took everything in your willpower to stop you from wailing their names and creaming on their cocks already.

You gripped Nikolai's hair, pushing your lips further into his, kissing him so hard he felt his dick throb deep in you, right against that spot that made your vision go flurry.

"So wet, just for us..." Fyodor mused, "Does that feel good, baby?"

"F-Fuck yes, it does..." You groaned as your lips left Nikolai's. "Oh my fucking God, please move already!"

"Don't speak the Lord's name in vain, especially not right now." Fyodor's voice turned into a displeased one for a mere moment, scolding you for your disobedience, however, that only made you clench harder around him, your mouth dropping into an 'o'.

Nikolai let out a near-insane laugh as he fucked himself into you, his dick grazing Fyodor's, earning a pleasured sigh out of him. The feeling of the two of them inside you made your stomach churn with butterflies, aggressively flapping their wings. You felt so fucking full it hurt but in such a good way...

The type of hurt you chased, trying desperately to bounce yourself on their cocks to gain some more friction. The burning sensation you once felt was agonizing now subsided into something so erotic it dragged a damn near pornographic moan out of you as Nikolai hunched his head into your neck, kissing down it before moving back up and sucking an arduous hickey into your svelte skin.

Fyodor muttered phrases that you could barely process, but the ones that did go through your brain and were understood were thinning the line between praising and degrading.

"So fucking good, what a good slut you are..."

And Nikolai chimed in with his own plaudit, "You're made for this dick, fuck..."

The otherwise vulgar, wicked words they uttered would've made your skin crawl in any other situation, but now it was only fueling the burning desire to be rougher, faster, more passionate.

You begged and pleaded the two of them would increase their speeds, and maybe fuck you with more fervor, but you had no idea Fyodor's thrusts would knock the air out of you.

You gasped and felt yourself tighten around them, eyes rolling back into your skull as you fell into a deep embrace with Nikolai, reduced to a stuttering and moaning mess in his arms as Fyodor smirked from behind you, winking at Nikolai who grabbed your hair and pulled you back, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"Gotta look into my eyes when you come."

With those words, you felt like you had lost yourself in euphoria, stumbling back onto Fyodor's torso and searching for a part of him you could grasp onto while your orgasm shattered you.

It took a few moments for you to clear your murky vision of the fog that had garnered up in your eyes.

"Came so good they nearly passed out."

"Mhm." Fyodor hummed in approval.

Nikolai flicked your forehead once before smirking at you. "You have no idea how fucked out you look! I wish I could take a picture and remind you every single day." He frowned and Fyodor chuckled behind you, leisurely helping you down onto your feet.

"Don't poke fun at them too hard, they might cry." Fyodor held back a snicker.

The moment your feet hit the cold ground you hissed, stumbling over to the bed in front of you and planting yourself face-first into it.

Your head was spinning and your entire body was on fire.

"What the hell did you two fuckers do to me...?"

"Don't pretend you don't remember." Fyodor approached you silently, gently patting and brushing your hair with his slim fingers. The mattress underneath you dipped as the two of them sat down, the clown lazily threw himself next to you, lying down and smirking at your exhausted expression.

Your eyelids grew heavy, your breathing slowed and you closed them eventually, letting rest take over you. Guess getting fucked so good had you sleeping better because the next thing you knew, it was morning and the sun was already shining.

Your eyes squinted as the beams of rays gently caressed them, pulling you out of your peaceful slumber. What time was it...?

You lazily whipped your head around to look at the vintage clock situated on the bedside table next to you. Despite being in bold letters you could not distinguish the numbers displayed on it. Perhaps it was sleep still lingering on your eyelashes.

Just then you realized something that knocked the drowsiness out of you.

"No fucking way I fell asleep in a room alone with those two bastards." You grumbled to yourself and rolled over, kicking Nikolai's bedsheet sheets off you and groggily getting up on your two feet.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Breakfast was utterly humiliating.

You felt awkward even just walking out of Nikolai's room, but you hadn't noticed something when you looked in the mirror earlier.

Lovebites scattered across your neck and collarbones, marking every place Nikolai and Fyodor decided they wanted to make love to yesterday.

If it weren't for Sigma's flushed expression, trying to look away and hold his tongue, you wouldn't have noticed till later, you could've gone out like that during a mission, and neither Fyodor nor Nikolai would've said anything whatsoever. You might be wondering, why?

Because they love watching you get embarrassed.

"Y/n... your neck... are you okay?" Sigma asked, concerned. "You look like you got mauled by a bear."

"Actually, I got mauled by two, at the same time."

#bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #bsd manga #bsd nikolai #nikolai gogol #fyodor dostoevsky #sigma #bsd smut #fyodor x reader smut #nikolai x reader smut #bsd anime

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msfbgraves · 7 months

Text

Thinking about Abraham van Helsing and his refusal to even discuss vampirism until people have drawn their own irrefutable conclusion and going, oh, this poor sweet kaaskop (cheesehead, that's what we Dutchmen call ourselves).

You see, Dutchmen, and Hollanders in particular, are almost aggressively opposed to the idea of the supernatural. We're factual and neutral to a fault. The most well known horror story about the Dutch - The Flying Dutchman - was written by the English. We don't do fancy ourselves. Our horrors are aggressively real and mundane (it's flooding. We are obsessed with flood prevention. Scared out of our mind by drowning and storms). Our horrors are tangible and real and out in the open. Dying in a flood. Dying in a coal mine (a more Victorian fear). Dying in a flooding coal mine, to combine the two. Dying at sea. Dying in traffic.

But you can fight the sea. And we do fight the sea. With engineering. Technology. We look at stuff in detail and deal with what is right in front of us (the sea, the universe), and only that. We're bad poets and good scientists, we're great figurative painters. We are, as everyone knows, aggressively literal and straightforward.

Indeed Bram, that sweet man, has a very literal approach to vampire fighting. Lucy is being fed on? Blood transfusion. Aenemia is aenemia. Also, autopsies are autopsies, no matter why they are performed. Medicinal flowers are medicinal flowers, prevention is prevention no matter the circumstances.

He has been conditioned to think that everyone will violently reject anything supernatural that isn't in the Bible and even then. Because that is a what a Dutchman, a Hollander especially, would likely do. "The ordinary is crazy enough", is a close approximation of one of our most well known sayings.

And now imagine Bram van Helsing coming across vampirism somewhere prior to the story. He will have rejected it at first. Maybe he rejected it too long until he either had to choose between the truth of his own perception or the fact that he was insane. He will have self-diagnosed any and all mental illnesses that could afflict him until deciding that he was of sound mind, and this was a vampire attack. What would have taken a citizen of Bistritz minutes to accept and act upon (nothing too far removed from their religion, most likely), would have taken Bram weeks or months of lonely agony and doubt.

And maybe by then, it was too late?

Still, even after Lucy's testimony (in writing!); the punctured neck, the blood loss, the bat, the wolf attack, the physical changes, does he not say to Jack - if it quacks like a duck and walks like a duck and acts like a duck, I am going to treat it like a duck, my friend. Instead he waits for Lucy to turn in front of Jack's eyes so he will have to believe in vampires because he saw it himself. To Van Helsing this is the only way to convince him because that is what it would take to convince an educated Dutchman. (I always joke that there are so few supernatural occurrences in The Netherlands because our outright refusal to believe in any of it kills it stone dead.)

This is dangerous, by the way - had he been alone, he wouldn't have let it get this far, I am sure of it. But there is a greater problem, a hunting vampire on the loose and he needs the help of his friends. And he doesn't dare confide in them.

How long has he been alone with this...?

Bram... 😭💔

#abraham van helsing #van helsing #dracula daily #bram stocker's dracula #dutch culture #nederlands

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nxathyx · 9 months

Text

nicknames

Pet names I think bungo stray dogs characters would use for their s/o

Armed Detective Agency

Atsushi Nakajima

°I feel like he'd usually just call you by your name or a nickname

°like if your name is Natalie or Nathaniel definitely would call you Nat or Nath (this is just an example)

°also something simple like "Angel"

°he says you're like a guardian angel and keep him stable

Dazai Osamu

°probably belladona or shorter versions of that like Bella or Dona

°would definitely call you cringe pet names just to laugh about it with you like "hey pookie bear😍😍" (I hate myself)

°maybe an occasional darl or baby

°I feel like he'd call you doll as well (he stole it from Chuuya)

°pretty girl/boy I don't know why

°I don't know I feel like he uses pet names as satire and prefers using your actual name or your nickname

Kunikida Doppo

°this man does not use pet names, like I can't imagine him saying anything

°maybe dear, I don't know what else though

Ranpo Edogawa

°I also don't think he's into pet names

°I don't know like he'd be too lazy to make something up for you

°also just sticks to your name/nickname/Diminutive

°the same as Atsushi except he'd also use "Nathy" (just a random name example)

Tanizaki Junichirou

°BRO HE GIVES ME DISCORD KITTEN VIBES AND I DON'T KNOW WHY...

° "hey kitten😻😻, get on bed wars you're making Daddy angy👿👿

°also uses your name the most probably

°an occasional "lovely"

Yosano Akiko

°probably "love" or a simple "hun"

°either that or your name/nickname

°probably randomly comes up and is like "hey gorgeous/handsome"

Edgar Allan Poe

(putting him here cause I don't know over half of the guild and won't write for them he's also basically an agency member at this point)

°probably darling, dear, sweetheart

°idk he just gives of the vibe

°but I think he'd also prefer just your regular name

Port Mafia

Chuuya Nakahara

°darling

°dear

°baby

°doll

°I don't know why but he'd use Spanish nicknames, like mi amor, mi vida, cariño, mi cielo, mi corazón

°maybe princess/prince

°pretty boy/pretty girl (especially if you're trans and have really bad dysphoria)

°also really like using your name, just plain and simple

°lovely

°my love

°maybe dove

°wifey/hubby

°definetly called you a bitch before

Akutagawa Ryuunoske

°he thinks it's cringe

°once he called you dear and amor (he learnt it from Chuuya)

°just sticks to your full name

Tachihara Michizo

°he gives me "babe" or "bae" vibes and I don't like it 😭

°definetly a "sweetheart" guy

°probably princess/prince as well

Gin Akutagawa

°probably "sweetie"

°other than that I doubt they'd use anything

Higuchi Ichigo

°honey

°your name

°darling

°honey

Koyou Ozaki

°darling/darl

°dear

°honey

°sweetie

*sweetheart

Decay of Angels

Fyodor Dostoyevski

°malyshka

°dear

°doll

°my only one

°he uses those very rarely though and prefers to use your name

Nikolai Gogol

°he calls you something silly

°"hey my gorgeous tampon wrapper"

°like huh😧😧

°uses dove as well

°my free space in bingo 😻😻

°I don't fucking know Bro😭😭

°he probably called you his discord kitten once as a joke In front of Fyodor and Sigma (they're scarred now)

°also the same as ranpo just your name/nickname/Diminutive (prefers nicknames and diminutives)

Sigma

°my love

°darling

°angel

°sweetheart

°just your full name as well

°definetly called you a saint before

Bram Stoker

°I don't think he'd use nicknames

°I don't know Bro is a vampire

°my little vamp vamp🤭🤭

Hunting Dogs

Tetchou Suehiro

°angel

°dear

°sweetie

°he'd definitely call you hubby/wifey

Jouno Saigiku

°bastard

°idiot

°dumbass

°(how romantic)

°I think he'd rather just use your name honestly aquífy

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rae-writes · 2 months

Note

I absolutely adore your bsd incest post, like holy shit it’s so well written and has left a permanent mark on me now

If you’d be interested in writing more, who would you add to the incest list? 👀

nsfw // edit bc I just blocked two users: if you do not like this type of content, do not read it. Don’t click ‘read more’, don’t comment, just scroll past it. Not everyone likes taboo topics, and that’s okay, but fiction is a way to explore those topics. It’s not for everybody. So if you don’t like it, it’s clearly not for you.

Twin brother!Atsushi who is such a nervous wreck sometimes, the poor baby just needs something to ground his mind, so when he quietly tugs on your shirt and begs to suck and lick at your chest, how can you possibly refuse your other half?

Twin brother!Atsushi who’s so territorial over you that all sense of politeness leaves his body when he catches some stranger trying to get close to you; the loud growl he lets out is enough to scare anybody, but he’s right back to purring when you reward his cute little habit with your hand around his cock

Twin brother!Atsushi who turns completely ravenous during his heat and can only be satiated by you. He has to fuck you at least four times every day he’s in heat and he practically howls each time he breeds you— no matter if you can or can’t actually get pregnant

Big brother!Fyodor who reminds you frequently that no one will ever be as close to you as him, which he emphasizes by cockwarming you all the time so that your insides will be molded to fit only him

Big brother!Fyodor who knows he doesn’t have as much time for you as he used to, so he gives you special permission to take care of yourself when the heat gets too unbearable. He promptly regrets it, though, when he finds you in the bed he insisted you share, fingers shoved inside of you as you whined and cried about not being able to do it properly. He takes care of you (extra care, even) and promises to make more time for you

Big brother!Fyodor who’s deathly protective of you and forbids anyone getting…too close. So when he catches Nikolai in your personal space one day, he fucks you in front of him to show that his little sibling isn’t on the market for anybody

Big brother!Fyodor who’s trained you so well that when he shares you with Dazai Osamu in a little competition, he tells you explicitly not to cum while you’re getting fucked by the brunette. It almost hurts by the time Fedya gets ahold of you again, and when he orders you to cum right then, you practically black out

Younger Brother!Nikolai who gets so whiny when you catch the end of his braid and yank him backwards, curling the plaited strands around your hand until he’s pressed flush against you. The slow, barely-there, kiss you give isn’t enough and he’s not ashamed in the way he follows you around the rest of the day like a lost puppy

Younger Brother!Nikolai who uses his ability to the content of his spoiled-perverted self and gropes you across the room at the most inopportune times. He’s not sorry, not even when he’s having his face shoved into the pillow while you overstimulate him until he’s crying

Uncle!Bram who was more than surprised when his sibling dumped you at his doorstep, but he was all too happy to take you in— especially when he got to run his hands along your body and ‘accidentally’ make you cum while he ‘aided’ you in taking a bath

Uncle!Bram who has to restrain himself from keening when you offer your blood to him. He’s takes his time to kiss and lick at your skin before sinking his teeth in, and he’d be embarrassed by the way he came in his pants, but he can’t seem to care when he can smell how aroused you are because of it

Uncle!Bram who’s gotten so fond of you, he adores showing you off at the ridiculous parties he’s obliged to host. So what if someone sees him sneak a kiss or a quickie in an otherwise empty corridor? It's his manor and everybody knows not to mess with him

Uncle!Bram who turns you under the moonlight and fucks you in the manor garden, finally able to go all out and not hold back. He has you screaming out in the night, matching red eyes never straying from his. You belong to him now

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd smut #atsushi x reader #atsushi nakajima x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bram x reader #bram stoker x reader

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popopretty · 9 months

Text

BSD Chapter 109

Well I'm late to the party becuz I overslept and missed the chapter drop etc. but just in case anyone still wants a summary, here it is.

Please note that I am not fluent in either English or Japanese so forgive me if I am making any mistake.

SPOILERS AHEAD

Sigma decided to touch Fyodor anyway knowing that might be the last choice of his life. Fyodor asks him what he wants to know and he says "all of your secret". They touch and Sigma feels a huge flow of information going through him. He finally knows what Fyodor reallys is and think that he has to tell the ADA, then collapses.

Aya and Bram are witnessing the activation of One Order. Aya tries to look for something that can help her remove the sword. She notices a hole on the glass that Akutaga must have left when carrying them out to the tower and is able to get inside through that. She finds a table, which she plans to tie to the sword and drop it to remove the sword. She tries to move the table but it is too heavy for me. While she is struggling, she sees flashback of hew own father lecturing her about how to properly use strength.

Chuuya arrives in front of Dazai. Dazai tells him to come and give him a punch but Fyodor stops Chuuya, telling him to use a gun instead, because if Chuuya touches Dazai, he will nullify the vampirism. Chuuya takes out a gun and shoot Dazai in the shoulder, for which Dazai yells at him for his terrible aim. Fyodor then has Chuuya put the gun to Dazai's forehead. Dazai then starts talk about how bad his situation is, that it hurts, and he is losing to Fyodor, and he is going to be killed by Chuuya. Fyodor assumes Dazai has run out of plan. Dazai then says that he wonders if he started blabbering cheesy stuff right now, maybe miracle will happen and Chuuya will return to normal. Then he tells Chuuya to "open his eyes", and that "our destiny cannot end in such a place, because we are destined to..." Chuuya pulls the trigger before he could finishes his sentence. Dazai is seen shot in the head, presumably dead. Chuuya is seen standing there, staring at his corpse while Fyodor says good-bye to him through the monitor screen.

Fukuchi opens One Order and gives a command for all armies to open fire. Missiles are going to be lauched, and armies are heading to battles. At the same time, Aya finally manages to get the table to the edge of the tower, ties it to Bram's sword and push it off the edge, hoping it will be enough to remove the sword.

The chapter ends here. Next one wil be released on September 4, 2023. Thank you for reading.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #summary #bsd spoilers #spoilers #dazai osamu #fyodor dostoevsky #bram stoker #aya koda #nakahara chuuya #sigma #fukuchi ouchi

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 6 months

Text

Perfection

Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Nikolai Gogol

Description: A passing comment makes you feel terrible about yourself. Fyodor and Nikolai disagree.

Set between Surprise and Sick Day

Warning: OOC. Body Insecurity. Hateful thinking during eating. Rude comments. Reader have hateful thoughts about themselves. English is my second language.

_______

You were in one of the many fast food restaurants in your city. Today you have a movie night and need some snacks for that. You were waiting in line for your turn to make order. Meanwhile, you read the menu once again. Maybe, something new was added.

Movie night was time full of unhealthy food and different movies, starting with classic films and ending up with any trashy movie you could find.

Today you were going to watch a bunch of Halloween movies. "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" and "Ghostbusters" with everyone. And, after kids go to bed, you will watch "Bram Stoker's Dracula" just to hear Bram's comments about vampires and "Nightmare on Elm Street".

You knew, that tonight's going to be fun.

"Hello, how may I help you?" asked the cashier. They looked a little bit interested in everything, that happened around. You smile.

"Hello. I will have seven big buckets of fried wings and five big french fries. Thank you."

You took money from your pocket and put them on the counter. You knew, how much you need to pay, it wasn't the first time you made the order.

Cashier's eyes widen. He looked at you from head to toes. He mumbles.

"I-It will be ready in a few minutes..."

The cashier disappeared behind the kitchen's door. You start waiting. You decide to have a better look at some pictures, that were on the wall.

While you were looking at them, you heard hashed voices coming from the kitchen.

"What? Seven buckets of fried wings and five big french fries? Won't they burst?" said an unfamiliar voice.

"They immediately took the right amount of money from their pocket. It looks like this is not the first time they have made this order. It's quite obvious, really. Just look at their... cheeks... hands... stomach... Look at their everything!" The cashier from earlier answered.

You saw his reflection in the window. He was pointing at you and making some gestures in the air. Like he was trying to draw a sphere in the air.

You became still. You tried to tell yourself, that their opinion shouldn't matter, that they just bored and thought that you were an easy target.

"They looked like a balloon. A barrel with lard!"

You grit your teeth. Will you two stop and give me my order?

Finally, they became bored and returned to the kitchen. In a few moments, you finally got your order.

You glare at the cashier, but didn't say anything. Soon you will be home, having a good time with your friends.

You stomped away from the restaurant, holding bags with food in your hands. For one moment, you saw your reflection in the restaurant's window.

Your... cheeks do look chubbier.... And arms...

You hurry to the car. Kunikida was waiting for you.

You put bags on the back sit and sat on the front passenger seat.

You were silent on your way home.

You were staring at your reflection in the car window.

Were your cheeks always that chubby?

________

This evening was too cold for a summer evening.

So you decide to put on your jacket.

New jacket... That just month weeks ago was big to you.

New jacket, that now you could hardly put on you.

Small... It was small for you.

You decide, that you aren't that cold.

_________

The table in the living room were full of junk food.

Popcorn, nachos, tacos, chips, fried wings, french fries and soda drinks.

So tasty... So unhealthy...

...so much food, that will make you fatter...

The movie was on...

And each snack you ate felt like a rock in your stomach...

_________

After movie night was over, you locked yourself in your bedroom.

You take a better look at yourself in the mirror.

You have gained weight.

It was impossible, not to do it, while living with BSD Cast. Ivan was a good baker, Junchirou's cooking was amazing, Kenji could fry a steak better, than in any fancy restaurant, Kyouka's cooking make you want seconds, and it was impossible to say 'no' to food, that was cooked by Fyodor and Nikolai.

And how you can refuse to share snacks with Ranpo, or not have a tea party with Kirako and Naomi?

You decide to lose some weight... Do more exercises, then usual.

And ate less...

________

You manage to skip breakfast.

You just said that you were too tired and want to sleep some more.

They didn't ask you any questions.

You manage to skip lunch.

You pretend to be sleeping. Still.

You were forced to have dinner.

You couldn't sleep all day.

You are dinner with everyone. For dinner, you had mushed potatoes and pork.

You ate some mushed potatoes...

...your hips will be even wider...

You ate some pork..

... your stomach soon will look like you swallowed a globe...

You were smiling and talking with Atsushi, discussing last news...

And ate... Ate... Ate...

...they were right, you are a barrel with lard...

It takes your everything not to make yourself vomit after the dinner. If you didn't lose weight...

... soon they will leave a fat ball like you...

Everything is going to be okay... More exercises and less food... It will help...

________

For one week, you were trying to lose weight.

You train with Hunting Dogs even harder than before.

You didn't notice worried glances, that Teruko and Fukuchi cast at you. You didn't notice Jounou's attempts to make you rest. You didn't notice Tachihara's and Tetchou's hesitation, while they were exercising with you.

You didn't notice, that you looked less and less healthy.

_________

For one week, you skipped meals.

You find any excuse you could. Any reason you could find.

"I am not hungry" "Sorry, I need to finish something for my university" "I need to be somewhere right now, will have dinner in the city."

You choose to ignore worried glances.

You didn't manage to skip meals completely. You ate some fruits and vegetables every day. Not enough for a real meal.

You refused to have snacks with Ranpo. You choose to ignore, how hurt he looked, while hearing your 'no' for the third time in a week.

You refused to drink tea with Kirako and Naomi. You choose to ignore their questions, if they did something wrong.

You ignored, that you became more and more weaker.

______

You were banned from going to the training area. Something about you needing some rest and stop overworking yourself.

You could protest, but Gide and Verlaine, who were guiding the entrance to the training area, didn't look even slightly interested in hearing your arguments.

You couldn't do anything, so you return home.

And you immediately were greeted by Nikolai and Fyodor. Kolya grinned.

"Hey, [Y/N], let's have some lunch! I made pampushky¹ and Fedya made borscht! You will like it!"

Borscht and pampushky...

... even more fat...

... what if, back in May, Fyodor only asked to cuddle with you, because you were fat and warm, and he was cold?...

You lick your lips and mumbles.

"I can't... I must go to the library... In university library..."

Fyodor and Nikolai stared at each other.

Fyodor spoke. His voice was soft.

"Myshonok... Today is Sunday."

You close your eyes. What reason... Any reason...

You opened your mouth, trying to say something else, when a small bun was carefully shoved into your mouth.

"Here, Birdy, try it.... Please, just eat something..." Nikolai's voice sounded pleading.

You want to spit it out. But you had no other choice, but chew.

Fat pig... Hideous creature... You can't even hold yourself together...

You swallowed.

Before you can say something else, a spoon was put into your mouth.

Borscht... Warm soup... With meat and cabbage...

And sour cream...

"Myshonok, you need to eat. Stop starving yourself." Fyodor's voice was firm.

You will gain more weight... Even more clothes won't fit you...

You swallowed.

You looked at Nikolai and Fyodor. Both of them looked happy, that you ate at least one pampushka and one spoon of borscht.

And you despised yourself.

Nikolai took a step closer to you. He put his hands on your shoulders.

"Was it good? I sure, it was. I will bring another one... Oh, and a bowl of Fyodor's borscht! Just let me..."

You didn't know, what made you do this, but you were so close to screaming at Nikolai for giving you bread. You want to hurt Fyodor for forcing you to eat soup with sour cream.

hurt them hurt them them them make them pay say that you hate Them say that you hate them hurt them HURT YOURSELF

SAY THAT YOU HATE THEM

You open your mouth...

...hate them for what? For being your friends? For sticking around? For spending time with you? For worrying about you?...

...When was the last time you ate? Have a full meal and not a piece of apple? When was the last time you spent time with others? Were you even talking to Hunting Dogs while training? Did you say 'hello' to them...

You let out a quiet sob.

And immediately were pressed against Fyodor's chest. He draped his coat over you.

"Коля, я сейчас пойду и поговорю с Мышонком. Пора докопаться до правды. Сможешь сделать так, чтобы нас не побеспокоили?²" Fyodor's voice was calm. His grip was strong. You heard Nikolai's voice.

"Я це зроблю. Вас ніхто не потурбує.³" He sounds... worried. He stepped closer to Fyodor and lift the coat.

"Please... I miss you..."

He softly rubbed his cheek against yours and stepped away.

Fyodor's coat were once again draped over you.

You didn't resist, when Fyodor start leading you somewhere.

_____

The door closes behind you.

Fyodor removed his coat.

Both of you were in your room.

Your breathing was hard.

Fyodor was just standing here. Looking at you.

He spoke first.

"Myshonok, what's going on? You haven't eaten for one week, you hardly talk to anyone. We are worried about you."

You didn't answer. You were just swallowing tears, that were running down your cheeks.

You feel Fyodor's breath on your ear.

"[Y/N], please, talk to me."

You finally found your voice.

You told him about cashiers. About your sweater. About your insecurities. About hating yourself for eating food. About wanting to hurt Kolya and him just moments ago.

When you finish talking, only your sobs were heard.

Fyodor carefully squeezed your shoulders.

"[Y/N], everything about you is perfect. You are perfect, both inside and outside."

Your eyes met with Fyodor's purple eyes. They were so soft, so full of hidden affection. His hands cupped your cheeks.

"You aren't disgusting. You should not change because of some random person comments. And you only hurt yourself. You were almost starving all this week, you stopped talking to any of us. You try to make as many exercises as Tetchou normally do!"

Fyodor put his face closer to yours.

"Please, don't hurt yourself. If you feel down, just came to any of us. We all love you and want you to be happy. And for me..."

He kissed your cheek.

"For me, you are nothing less, than a perfection."

His eyes were so warm. You sobbed and hide your face in his chest.

He was warm. His embrace was everything you need right now.

"I... I..." you can't form a full sentence. Fyodor whispered, petting your head.

"Shhh... It's okay... It's okay... It will be okay..."

Fyodor took a step back, without breaking the embrace. He opened the door. You hear footsteps.

Now you were hugged by Fyodor and Nikolai at the same time.

Now you were sure, that everything is going to be fine.

_______

After you calm down, Fyodor, Nikolai and you had lunch together. It's not only was tasty, but very filling.

Then you three had a movie marathon. You were nested between Fyodor and Nikolai. A large bowl of popcorn with butter, salt and caramel was placed on your lap. It was tasty.

You had dinner with everyone. They were so happy, seeing you again. You felt, how the rest of your worries and sadness disappeared.

But, the last of bit of your sadness truly disappeared, when you were laying on your bed, in a middle of Fyodor and Nikolai cuddle sandwich. Your head were laying on Nikolai's chest. Fyodor's face were pressed against the back of your head.

Before drifting to sleep, you feel, how Fyodor kissed you on the back of your neck.

And whispered.

"Ты само совершенство, [Т/И].⁴"

______

1. Pampushky - a small savory or sweet yeast-raised bun or doughnut typical for Ukrainian cuisine.

2. Russian. "Kolya, I’ll go and talk to Baby mouse. It's time to get to the bottom of this. Can you make sure we won't be disturbed?

3. Ukrainian. "I will do it. No one will bother you."

4. Russian. "You are a true perfection, [Y/N]."

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elizais · 1 month

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when you know, you know.

when they realise just how much they love you ft: nikolai, bram, poe part 1 here content/warnings: mentions of murder (poe's ability), shortttt, i tried to keep it as a gn reader but i might have slipped up at points. i wrote bram without the sword and in current day bcs i was struggling dudesss i think this is my first time trying to write for bram and poe so please take these with a pinch of salt but the lovely person who requested it was so polite i couldn't pass it up <3

nikolai was.. lively to say the least. i mean, just having a partner would be (in his eyes) something tying him down. but, for you? being with you would comply with him wanting to be free. you granted him freedom from all of the negative thoughts that could plague him.

walking down the high-street with you, hand in hand as he pondered all of these ideas. the both of you were strolling towards a cafe that kolya had begged to go to for its "famous pirozhki".

he was not in his usual attire today, wearing a simple blue turtleneck sweater and jeans that fit him loosely. you had to admit, he looked close to incredible when you contrasted it to his usual wear. even though his outfit was different, his personality did not falter in the slightest.

swinging your arms forwards and backwards quickly as you walked, he giggled at whatever joke he was thinking of. turning towards him, you smiled. "kolya?" you poked his upper arm for his attention. "what type of bird is that?" you asked, glancing at a small bird hopping through tree branches. as he looked over, it flew away.

his braid fell over his shoulder, laying softly as he considered making a witty joke. the truth of what he was thinking was of how much he adored you, how you pointed out birdies, watched comedy shows with him, tried your best to cook his favourite meals, put up with him using his ability to scare you..

he thought back to earlier, you had brushed his hair into the usual neat braid as he spoke about what tricks he was going to pull on sigma and fyodor too. he laughed as you frowned, claiming "leave sigma alone, he has a casino to take care of, babysitting you is my job."

bram was, aside from being a vampire and that, perfect. his personality was complex, but you often joked that it wittled down to him just wanting to sleep.

today, you were both sat on the sofa as he spoke about aya. you were brushing through his hair. "she was telling me about some artists, i think she meant composers." he explained, going on about music as you giggled. his hair was showing some curls towards the ends that you were entertaining yourself with.

he was kneeling in front of you so that you could face his back and toy with his hair.

"what is amusing?" he asked politely, refraining from turning around incase he messed up the braid you insisted so stubbornly on putting in his hair. you pulled the long braid onto his shoulder and he saw how you had refined the hair past the bobble into a sweet curl.

he smiled softly as you spoke, "what genre do you want to listen to? does aya have any recommendations?" you teased and he let out a soft chuckle. cherishing these sweeter, saccharine moments were as good at keeping him alive as his ability was.

he put up with the garlic jokes, playing dumb vampire films on tv (he really does love hotel transylvania!), the teasing.. all because he loves you !!

poe was like a breath of fresh air to be around. there was never a need to be loud or extroverted with him. and those were just bonuses on top of getting to hang out with a raccoon all of the time. you were currently in another room trying to trim karl's nails.

key word: trying

ed was in the study, writing another novel. whether it's for ranpo or not? who knows. karl wasn't putting up a fight but more so.. wriggling around. any sane person would have given up by now but with the amount of time this raccoon spends around your shoulders? zero chance.

once you finally finished, you swooped karl into your arms and carried him back to edgar. "ed? have you eaten or drank water recently?" you asked, setting down karl and walking over to him as he closed the book before him. he nodded as he looked up to you from his armchair.

"yes, and i have finished it!" he exclaimed, you furrowed your brows in confusion. "finished what, love?" he presented you the book proudly. "it's just like the film we watched a few weeks ago. you said you wanted to live in that manor house, no?" and that's when it clicked for you.

he carried on, "when you want to go, all the characters will be there! i had to add in another to die but other than that? it's the same!" he excitedly explained. tracing over the clothbound cover with your name on the front, he added one more thing. "oh! and to figure it out in one of the office desk drawers it will let you know what happened."

you smiled at that, he didn't want you to struggle. unfortunately, his ability was only murder mystery related so he couldn't write a book about a sunshine land where nothing went wrong. yet he tried his best, for you!

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hopelesslyromanticgay · 10 months

Text

An Americano Please PT. 6

Words: 1400

Y/N's POV:

Not gonna lie, I'm kind of nervous to meet Jenna's friends. What if I fuck up? What if I'm accidentally a little rude? Or what if they all around don't like me?

God I sound like a teenager meeting their partner's parents for the first time.

I really enjoy spending time with Jenna, though, and I don't want her friends not liking me to mess that up.

My phone pings with a text from Nessa.

Nessa😝

Girl, pull your shit together and get your

ass into that pizza shop. No I'm not stalking

you, I just know you well enough by now.

OK fine.

I timidly step into the store, the warm scent of baking pizza wafting around me.

"Y/N, over here!" I can hear Jenna exclaim, waving me over to her table. She's sitting with a few other people.

"These are my castmates, Emma, Joy, Georgie, and Hunter. Castmates, this is Y/N," Jenna excitedly introduces us.

"Hi, nice to meet you guys," I smile, waving stupidly.

"Nice to meet you too," Joy says kindly, "Jenna's told us to much about you."

I can see Jenna hide her face from me a little.

"Oh really, what's she said?" I ask innocently.

"Just how pretty, funny and kind-" Emma starts.

"Hey, have you guys seen that new baking show with the engineers?" Jenna interrupts. Darn it, I really wanted to know where Emma was going with that.

"No, none of us have the time to do that," Georgie laughs, "I'm surprised you do, honestly."

"No I watched it before we got here," she says quickly.

"So," Hunter starts, immediately way better at changing the subject, "What are some cool sites around Romania I should check out. I have a lot more free time on my hands with this show because I don't have to learn new hobbies, so I wanna get to know the area."

"Oh, well Jenna can tell you I'm an amazing tour guide," I start, "You have got to go to Bran castle, after all, it's said to be the home of Dracula. In reality, it was just a castle that Vlad Dracul once went to, but Bran Castle is the place Bram Stoker based Dracula's castle off of. So that makes it pretty cool."

"That's so cool, I'll have to take Naomi with me," he grins, "thanks for the recommendation."

"Oh yeah, perfect for her because you know, who she plays," Emma winks, "Sorry, we can't share a lot of details with cast outsiders," she says sadly.

"We'd love to share more, but we're under legal agreements," Joy adds.

"I totally get it," I say, feeling the slightest bit left out, but otherwise enjoying myself.

"Hey, so what's the deal with queer acceptance around here?" Hunter asks quietly, "because I want to propose to my boyfriend when he comes to visit in a few months but I don't know how publicly I can do that."

"Oh my god you're gonna propose?!" everyone at the table shrieks, all congratulating him individually.

"I'd like to, but I just need to know from a local," he says, looking to me.

"So, people do have the right to discriminate against you for being queer, and you certainly can't do the actual wedding here, but most people in Busteni aren't that homophobic. And I'm a queer person, so I'd say I'm a pretty good source," I tell him, "I'd say the worst outcome is if it's in front of tourists, because you never know what they'll do."

"Thank you so much," he tells me, "you're awesome."

"Glad I can help," I say happily. So at least one of her friends likes me.

"So, Y/N, how long have you lived in Romania?" Joy asks.

"About three years now," I answer truthfully.

"Wow, so you came at sixteen?"

"Yeah," I say, eager to change the subject, "so how are you guys liking Romania so far?"

"People can definitely tell we're not from here," Emma giggles, "I mean, not speaking Romanian is a dead giveaway."

"Yeah, we're pretty good at being able to tell just from the language you speak," I laugh, "I only get away with it because I grew up speaking it."

"Woah, so you grew up bilingual?" Emma questions.

"Yeah, my mom grew up in Romania and my dad went to college here, so they both would speak it with me when I was a kid," I explain.

"Oh that's cool."

The rest of the night goes pretty similarly, all of us getting to know one another. I learn that Jenna used to autopsy little animals like the true Wednesday she is, which I found hilarious. I learned that Emma had to go to a werewolf bootcamp to get better at stunts. They were all such interesting people.

By the end of the night I think they actually might not hate me! Success.

"Hey, Y/N, can I walk you home?" Jenna asks.

"Sure," I smile. The rest of the group exchange looks, and file out of the pizza shop.

"I think my friends like you," she tells me as we get up from out seats.

"You do?" I say, surprised.

"Yeah, they wouldn't have talked to you as much as they did if they didn't."

"Well in any case, I'm glad they're okay with me," I laugh.

"Yeah, me too," she smiles brightly, wrapping an arm around my waist and leaning her head on the side of my arm as we walk down the street. It's fully dark out, and the only thing lighting the street up are the old gas powered street lamps. Oh my god I hope she can't see my blush. She's so adorable.

"I was so worried they were gonna hate me," I confess after a few minutes of silence.

"Why would they do that?" she asks, "you're a lovely person." Hearing her say that melts my heart. She thinks I'm a lovely person!

"I'm glad you think that, but I don't think everyone shares that opinion."

"Well they're stupid, but in any case, thank you for coming to dinner with me tonight. My friends really wanted to meet you."

"Yeah, I bet it's because you told them how pretty funny and kind I was," I tease her. I can just barely see the blush on her face under the soft glow of the street lamps.

"I can't believe she told you I said that," she shakes her head.

"Oh so you did say it," I inquire.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't," she confesses. Wow, I can't believe she really thinks all that about me.

"Well what else did you tell them?"

"You know, the usual stuff."

"Such as?"

"W-well you know, the things you tell your friends when you like someone," she starts, "like what we say to each other, or the jokes we have. Or what we do when we hang out. You know, that stuff." Oh my god, she likes me. Like, likes me likes me,

"So you like me?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Of course I like you!" she all but shouts, "your sense of humor is amazing, you're beautiful, you don't judge me for anything I say or do, and you always want to hear what I have to say." Well what do I even say to that? Saying I like you too feels cheesy and like something a child would say.

We've come to a stop now, right outside my apartment. We're only inches apart, her beautiful brown eyes glistening in the light.

"Please say something, Y/N," she says quietly.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask softly. She exhales in relief before nodding intently.

I cup her cheek, bringing our lips together. It feels like fireworks are going off with my stomach. She wraps her arms around my waist. I never realized kissing someone could feel this right. I can taste the tropical chapstick on her soft lips, and smell her subtle perfume.

What feels like both an eternity or also less than a second later, we pull away, both smiling.

"So I'll see ya for coffee tomorrow?" she asks.

"You can count on it," I smile. She pulls me into an embrace, burying her head in my shoulder. We stay like that peacefully for a minute, swaying in the wind.

"I have an early start tomorrow, so I should get home now," she tells me.

"Aww okay. I understand. Well, good night gorgeous," I quickly lean down to kiss her again. Her smile widens.

"Good night, Y/N/N," she blows me a kiss before walking off.

Wow. What a night.

A/N: I know Y/N is supposed to be mostly customizable, but I swear the thing with the parents WILL make sense later! love u guys, hope you enjoyed the chapter:)

Random Notes:

- I'm not making up that the lipstick jenna used on the set of Wednesday was in fact made from tropical fruit.

- Eidolon is actually a real pizza place in Busteni.

- I spent HOURS on the tour chapter learning about places in Busteni. Finding the places on SnapMap, reading their reviews, and cross referencing the information. I also spent a while learning about Romanian geography. Romanians, I'm so sorry if I'm not doing your country the justice it deserves.

- A lot of the laws around queer people in Romania are less than progressive, but being queer in itself is legal.

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