#so if some creature wants to crawl into my bed and fuck me that would be great

[gatorlovebot]

i don’t have any halloween plans for tonight but i’m going to be leaving one of my bedroom windows open just in case a werewolf or a vampire wants to join me during the night. just putting it out there

#none of my friends are having parties which is totally understandable #and it snowed last night which has killed all my motivation to get out of the house today #so if some creature wants to crawl into my bed and fuck me that would be great

[kentopedia]

i miss when we first met

FEATURING. dazai osamu x f!reader & f!reader x chuuya nakahara — wc: 15.1k

SUMMARY: you'd always been in love with Dazai, but you started to doubt that he'd ever cared for you in return. chuuya, though, had never shown you anything but true affection.

CONTENTS: nsfw 18+ ONLY, pm!dazai, pm!reader, mostly dazai x reader but…, unhealthy relationship dynamics, voyeurism, cheating, manipulation, smut, degradation, guns, angst, dazai is very bad at expressing emotions, pet names, horrible communication, unrequited (?) love, the list goes on bc they’re in the port mafia just be warned

note: this took me like 4 months to finish & i am so so nervous to post it lmao. i wanted to write something different & this is very outside my comfort zone! :) but it's dazai's birthday so i figured i might as well share it today

You rolled onto your side away from Dazai, still breathing heavily as you came down from your high.

Beside you, he had shifted onto his forearms, moving up against the headboards to sit up straight. The covers fell off of him, revealing the marks that you’d left all over his body, the scars from a life lived in the mafia.

Under the red silk sheets, you were silent, your head settling into the pillow as you stared at him.

He’d deny it, but he was beautiful, a tempting, alluring creature that you couldn’t get enough of.

But you also knew Lucifer had once been God’s most beautiful angel, and it only made sense that Dazai Osamu would hold the same kind of exquisiteness.

Dazai closed his eyes, rolled his neck as he leaned back, stretching out all of the stiff muscles. He didn’t touch you again, kept a distance as he wiped the sweat that had dried on his forehead, the fluids that had stained the sheets between you.

He used to talk to you, after something so intimate. Used to hold you in his arms and trace your skin with a gentleness you didn’t know he possessed. He hadn’t always been cruel when he fucked you, hadn’t always put his own needs before yours.

Of course, Dazai had never loved you. That was something you were certain of in your very core. But he’d held at least some shred of respect for you before becoming the head of the Port Mafia. Now, you didn’t think he saw you as anything more than a means to an end.

It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter that Dazai spoke to you minimally when you two weren’t alone, that everyone in the Port Mafia knew you were nothing more than the woman who slept in his bed.

It didn’t matter because you loved him. You’d stood by his side since the beginning, since he’d recruited Chuuya, since he’d lost Oda.

Since he’d killed Mori.

You’d been with him through all of it, seen every horrid side to him, and you’d never once wanted to escape. Dazai had his claws in you, and he had them in deep. The thought of being anywhere but with him had never crossed your mind.

“Akutagawa told me what happened yesterday.”

You blinked, snapping out of your haze as Dazai regarded you with cool, condescending eyes. He was peering at you from over his shoulder, picking his dark button-up off the floor. The skin on his back was red from scratches, the lines dragging through his taut skin.

“Did he?” you said, looking down at your nails. You hadn’t expected anything less. Akutagawa did everything in his power to get exaltation from Dazai. “I’m sure his report was thorough.”

Dazai’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed, a darkened tint flashing in them. “That’s all you have to say?”

His voice was unamused, icy, and it reminded you that no matter how many times you crawled into his bed, let him use you however he wanted, he was still your boss. He was Dazai Osamu, the man whom everyone in Yokohama feared.

You swallowed. “I’m sorry.” Your gaze twisted away from him, unable to meet his hardened expression completely. “I was distracted. It was my fault entirely.”

Dazai made a noise in the back of his throat as he moved out of the bed. He sauntered across the room, so quietly and cat-like, and you buried yourself deeper into the mattress, wanting to sink into it completely.

“You’re lucky, then, that Akutagawa was able to deflect the bullets.” He began replacing the bandages that had slipped off of his face, covering his cheek with disgust.

He let you see him completely when it was just the two of you. It took every ounce of your self-control not to read into that, to wonder if it was just a habit leftover from when you were younger.

“I am lucky.”

Truthfully, you’d only hesitated for half of a second, momentarily lost in your own loop of suffering, and your opponent had gotten an edge on you. They’d shot at you, then the bomb, nearly prematurely blowing up the building.

“After decades of work, I would’ve thought you’d know better by now.” Dazai sighed wearily, like your presence irritated him. It probably did. “I’ll consider moving you. I’m sure there’s a place for you where you can’t get yourself killed if you fuck up.”

“Dazai—” you swallowed, a horrid tasting stinging your mouth as you remembered your time with him had come to an end. He was back to being Mori’s underling, the man who looked at the city like it was nothing but a chessboard. “Boss,” you remedied quickly, all too used to addressing him differently. It was difficult, sometimes, to recognize where Dazai began, and the Port Mafia’s boss ended. “It was a stupid error. In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever done something like that before?”

Dazai hesitated momentarily, before tensing his shoulders. He didn’t answer your question. “Don’t let it happen again.” A warning was in his eyes when they met yours through the mirror. “I don’t have the patience to find a replacement for you, and Akutagawa’s too valuable an asset to lose to a seasoned professional’s careless mistake.”

You exhaled, looking back down at your hands. The ones that had already been stained in so much blood, wrought with crime and bad intent. “Understood.”

You finally climbed out of the bed, missing the warmth that it gave you, even though Dazai’s cold body always sucked it away. He laid so stiffly next to you most of the time. You remembered when he used to sleep with his forehead pressed to the back of your neck.

As you dressed, Dazai kept his eyes on his work, never paying you any attention. You felt discarded, useless, and you wanted to hate him, wanted to hate yourself for longing to wrap your arms around him, hug him from behind.

“I’ll send you with Chuuya tomorrow,” he said, scanning reports and assignments that he’d thrown aside lazily last night. “An easy assignment outside of Yokohama. Think you can manage that?”

“Just give me the job.” You snatched the paper out of Dazai’s hand, and he didn’t say a word, only watched as you perused it. It was, really, the simplest task he’d given you in the past few weeks. You’d felt like he’d been overworking you just to avoid you. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

Dazai’s smile widened, sinister, and wicked. He brushed his hand delicately over your shoulder, against your neck before patting you on the head. “I trust you won’t let me down.”

Going against every sensible atom in your being, you smiled wearily. His minimal display of affection warmed you, a deep pang settling in your soul. “Have I ever?”

“No.” He held a sort of awed fascination, twisting a part of your hair between his fingers. “How lucky someone must be to be my greatest enemy. To get the kiss of death from an angel is not such a bad way to die.”

He held your cheek in his delicate fingers, and you were putty in his hands, wishing that his eyes would soften, even by a fraction. That his hand would cup around his cheek like he meant it.

Instead, he pulled away, and you felt cold, cold, cold, drowning in your own emptiness.

You scoffed, trying to regain some power in the situation. “I’m no angel.”

“Hm,” Dazai hummed, dropping his head in his hands, resuming a spot behind the desk, the deep red chair much too similar to the one in his office, the one that Mori had inherited from the previous boss. “Perhaps not to others.”

And you grew hot, feeling that, maybe, Dazai was giving you a compliment.

It was at times like these that you saw the semblance of your previous relationship. When you could tease him without feeling the weight of his superior rank looming over you. When you could kiss him without tasting venom. When you didn’t have to wonder if it would be appropriate to touch him, or if you should keep your distance.

You wanted to quit him. Really, you did.

He was a horrible, loathsome person.

You’d never be able to stop loving him.

“I could never be any sort of heavenly creature, Dazai. My spot in hell was sealed the moment I sided with the Devil.”

Dazai laughed, the sound raw and dry, so humorless. “I hope you don’t mean me. Flattery will get you nowhere,” he tsked, the tip of his tongue scratching against the back of his white teeth.  

You certainly hadn’t meant that as a compliment.

“Should I say goodbye before I leave?” you asked wryly, doubting that he’d even want to see you again. His image burned against the back of your eyelids, and you drank him in, hoping that when you died, his face would be the last thing you saw.

Dazai didn’t grace you with a simple yes or no. Instead, he glanced up briefly, his one eye exposed, mere centimeters of skin uncovered. “Goodbye.”

You nodded; lips pressed tightly together as you accepted the dismissal. With a sigh, you were out of the room, wondering why you hadn’t just showered before you left. Most of your clothes were in Dazai’s closet anyway.

You didn’t see him again before you left.

The assignment Dazai had given you was a few cities over, a task of infiltrating an enemy organization who’d gotten a little too close to the Mafia’s boundaries. It was simple enough, especially with Chuuya at your side, though the whole ordeal had you away from home for a weekend, and far too much time with your own thoughts.

Dazai had set the two of you up in a suite, one with two separate bedrooms and a shared living space. It was much more luxurious than you even needed, with a view overlooking the entire city and an extensive bar in the kitchen. The furniture was a deep, black leather, every accent dark in color.

It was conspicuous, but you’d grown too used to extravagance after being with Dazai. You allowed yourself to indulge in it.

A silly notion, really; the place you slept every night was much more lavish.

You scrubbed the blood off your face, your hands, and stared at yourself in the mirror without recognizing the person before you. The water at the bottom of the shower was a macabre shade, staining the tiles as it swirled down the drain.

Shivering, you tried to reconcile all of the things you’d done, shelve them away before you could wonder if all of it was really worth it. If Dazai was really worth it.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, your skin rubbed raw, Chuuya was sitting at the bar, a freshly cracked bottle of wine before him. His back was tense, muscles strained as he regarded you with weary eyes, the darker shade under them obvious and alarming.

“Took you long enough,” Chuuya snorted, pouring himself a glass. The bottle was aged and dark, the label faded. He must have brought it along with him; it certainly hadn’t come from the hotel. “I was getting bored.”

You made a face, taking the seat beside him. “Well, there was a lot of blood.” You reached over to snatch the bottle, pressing it to your lips before he could protest.

“Help yourself, then,” His expression was sour, but his acerbic tone held a hint of amusement. “Do you know how expensive that is?”

“No.” You shrugged, taking a sip. Money had stopped meaning anything to you a long time ago. “Should I care?” The liquid warmed your throat on the way down.

“Probably not. You’ve surely got enough cash behind you to buy me another one.”

“Right.” You snorted and wondered how much of that stuff you’d have to drink before you’d stop feeling a thing. Thoughts of the crumbling bond that you and Dazai shared wouldn’t leave you alone. “And you don’t?”

Chuuya laughed, twirling the glass in his gloved hand. There was a hardened edge to him that you didn’t like. Opposed to Dazai, Chuuya had always been much more open with you, more willing to share his thoughts. “Well, we can’t all be Dazai’s favorite. You’ve got the keys to the kingdom, my dear. Whatever belongs to the Mafia belongs to you too.”

“Favorite?” You spat out the word, darkening at the mention of Dazai, the man who never seemed to leave your brain. It was always Dazai, Dazai, Dazai. The youngest executive there had ever been, the one who’d become the head of the Port Mafia just a few years later.

You hated him. Wished you could burn the memory of that haunted man entirely.

“Hm?” Chuuya leaned forward like he hadn’t heard you.

A bitter flavor blossomed on your tongue when you thought of saying his name out loud. “I don’t want to talk about Dazai right now.”

You brought the bottle to your lips again; it was starting to feel lighter.

“Why?” Chuuya’s eyes dimmed as he stared at you, looking for something hidden in your irises. A secret that wouldn’t be there. You’d always been too easy to read. “Did something happen?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about Dazai, and you immediately think something’s wrong?”

He blinked. Hesitated. “Well, I spent my teenage years listening to you talk about him like a lovesick fool. The subsequent years watching him stare at you in the same way.” He took the bottle away from you, tipping his head back. “Something must be wrong.”

You felt a flush at your neck, the skin itching with sweat. It was cruel of Chuuya to allude to any emotions from Dazai, when you knew they weren’t there. “That’s not true.”

Chuuya sighed. “Isn’t it?”

Although his temper had always been much worse than yours, you felt the same sort of anger claw at your back. The urge to scream at him became almost insuppressible. “Dazai doesn’t care about me like that.” You flopped down on the bar, alcohol fuzzing the edges of your senses. It felt nice, warm.

Maybe being away from the Port Mafia was better for you than you thought.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chuuya’s eyes had narrowed when your head fell forward, his fist clenching around the bottle.

“Stupid?” You immediately sat up, blood rushing straight to your head. Who was Chuuya to come and tell you everything he thought he knew? It was laughable, really. “He doesn’t care, and I think I’d know. Fuck you, Chuuya.”

You slammed your fist down on the table, hurt. You didn’t understand why Chuuya would side with Dazai when he knew how much the situation troubled you. How often had you bared your soul to him, told him how Dazai’s aloofness had hurt you over and over again?

His eyes softened, an apology immediately leaving his lips. “I’m sorry—”

“Are you?” The words were vehement. Chuuya was shamelessly against your relationship with Dazai, always coming up with one reason or another to get you out of it. Now, it seemed, he was trying to defend it. “Dazai cares or he doesn’t. You can’t keep changing your mind based on the situation.”

“Dazai does care.” Chuuya said the words like they pained him to leave his mouth, each one dragging a dagger against his chin. “You think he’d keep you around if he didn’t?”

You did. You knew that you had use outside of Dazai’s feelings, just like Chuuya, just like Akutagawa. Just like every menial grunt who had a shred of value for the Mafia.

“He cares that I have value to him.” A sigh left your lips, and you sunk your chin onto your palm, feeling like nothing more than the dramatic woman in a Shakesperian tragedy. Really, you couldn’t remember when you’d become so pathetic. “What will become of me when I can’t sink a bullet into the skull of his enemies anymore?”

Chuuya frowned, the wrinkles deepening on his forehead. “No one can predict what Dazai will do.” He let you steal his half-full glass of wine, keeping the bottle safely tucked away from you. “Would it make much difference to you if we could?”

“I suppose not.” You’d grown tired, the subtle buzz of alcohol coming in quick on your empty stomach. “Nothing matters much anymore. I’ll never leave the Port Mafia.” Saying the words out loud made it more real than you’d intended, even though it was a fact that had sunk deep into your bones the day you’d met the dark-haired, suicidal bastard. “Why do I have to love him, Chuuya? Why can’t I love a good man?”

You thought, why can’t I love you instead, and left it unsaid. The words might have been too cruel. You knew the pain of unrequited emotions.

“Because you’re in the Port Mafia. Good men would know to stay away.” Chuuya drummed his fingers against the countertop before reaching out, contemplative. Though you remained unmoving in your seat, his hand still retracted before he touched you, as if burned. There was caution in his movements, every action calculated—Chuuya was usually the opposite, as intelligent as he was. “Besides. You’ve never tried to let Dazai go. You don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you said defensively, though even to your own ears, the statement was weak. Dazai was an addiction, and you’d go back to him time and time again. Even when, sometimes, you weren’t so sure there was anything good about him. “I just don’t know how. What would I do out there in the world without Dazai?” You laughed, amused. A normal life didn’t seem possible—you’d have no idea where to start.

Chuuya’s face pinched in disgust. “Take over the Port Mafia. Kill him and run it yourself.” He huffed, running a hand over his eyes, exhausted. “There’s a solution. If you really want to get rid of him.”

You blinked back at him. A moment passed; you’d forgotten he was looking for a response.

“I suspected as much.” His shoulders slumped, defeated, as you drew back in shame. “How long will you talk yourself into this endless cycle of torment? Dazai isn’t the same man that you fell in love with, and he never will be again.” He met your eyes, cold and guarded. “There’s nothing to be done about that. If you want Dazai so badly, put up with every single part of him. I’m tired of listening to the same grievances, time and time again.” 

Chuuya made to stand, but you stopped him, grabbing his wrist lightly. He glared at you from over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to convey your apology sincerely. “You’re completely right. I’ve never tried to let Dazai go, and maybe I can.”

You didn’t give Chuuya time to formulate a response. Before he could understand what was happening, you leaned forward, catching him off guard, and planted your lips on his.

For one singular moment, Chuuya had kissed you back, tasting your mouth in its entirety, before he shoved you away, scrubbing his skin like he’d been burned.

“Don’t do that.” He had a hand in your face, scolding you like a child. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

You stared at him; his dark eyes were full of an emotion you had never seen before. “Why not? You said I should try to let him go.”

“Not by kissing me, fucking hell.” Chuuya hissed, his voice just above a whisper like someone else was listening in. Something vile had been unleashed in him as he gesticulated around wildly. “You’re Dazai’s.” He scoffed. “Do you think any smart man would do anything with you, knowing you sleep in that monster’s bed every night?”

You sniffed, sticking your jaw out. Maybe, you’d been wrong all this time. Chuuya was like everyone else, wasn’t he? Holding you at a distance because you cared for the wrong person.

“I’m not leaving the Mafia. I’m not leaving Dazai.” You reached across the table, grabbing one of his cold hands. “I just want to be someone else for once. To know what it’s like for someone to care about me so completely.”

“It’s not going to be with me.” Chuuya yanked his hand away, laughing mirthlessly. “I never thought you’d try to manipulate me like this. “You’ve been spending too much time with him.”

Your eyes flashed, infuriated. Chuuya looked at you with some kind of betrayal, like he wasn’t the exact same way, like he wasn’t the same kind of vile person that you were. “I know you’re in love with me, Chuuya. I know you’ve looked at me since we were sixteen years old, wished so badly I would look at you the same way.”

His jaw clenched, the anger giving way to something else. “Don’t start.”

“You’ve wanted me all this time, haven’t you?” It was a genuine question; one you’d always been too scared to voice. Chuuya was the only person you considered to be a friend and knowing that he felt that way about you would ruin your friendship completely.

Though you had one sip too much of alcohol running through your veins, and you’d spent two days wondering how you could stop feeling a single thing for Dazai. Rationality had left you entirely.

Chuuya was silent, still watching you with hesitance.

“You’re the only person in the Mafia who really cares about me, aren’t you?” you said, softer, wondering if you could lure him in. Spring him into a trap you’d both be certain to regret in the morning. “You’re the one who talks to me about everything, who watches out for my well-being. Who’s never looked at me like I was anything but the prettiest girl in the world.”

And though Chuuya still didn’t trust your actions, his eyes had softened just a hair, his body releasing the tension. “You are.”

You smiled, but his compliment made you feel nothing but guilt. “Then why won’t you let me kiss you, Chuuya?”

“Because.” He scraped a hand over his face, breathing heavily like it was taking every ounce of his willpower to resist you “Dazai will kill me, you understand? He’ll kill you.”

“Wouldn’t you at least like to know?” You invaded his personal space. Each word you spoke cracked him a little bit more. “I know you’ve imagined me spread out before you, entirely exposed to you. How I’d look with my hips arching off the bed, crying out your name—”

“Stop it.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You felt like you were losing your mind. Something had cracked in you, and you couldn’t come back from it. Things would never go back to the way they were after those careless words had been tossed into the world. “You’ve always wanted me, so why, when I’m giving myself to you completely, won’t you accept?”

Chuuya swallowed. His voice had grown thick with desire. He raked his eyes over you cautiously. “You’re asking a lot from me, baby.” He held your cheek, grazing the bone in the gentle way that Dazai had forgotten. “Believe me, I want to. But you’ve had a lot to drink.”

“I haven’t,” you said, grabbing his wrist before he could pull away. The touch of another person felt so nice against your icy skin. “I’m okay. I’m not drunk.” You weren’t—the alcohol had just made you brave enough to ask. “Please, Chuuya.”

He swallowed thickly. “He’ll kill me.”

“And he’ll kill me. Just as you said.” You met his eyes completely, wondering why you couldn’t care for this man in the same way, why his lips weren’t as alluring as Dazai’s, why his voice didn’t set a blaze deep in your stomach. “Do you really care whether Dazai thinks of me as his?”

His cheeks were flushed, eyebrows pinched, and you spotted the moment he began to draw back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just can’t.”

Then, you panicked, eyes becoming glassy as he released you, turning to retreat back to his bedroom, and you scrambled for another way, a way to bring him back to you.

“Chuuya, please,” you said, desperation in every syllable, and when he turned around, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. “I just want to know what it’s like with a person who loves me. Can’t you give me that?”

That was it. That was all you had to say. When Chuuya bowed his head, you knew he’d given in.

“Why do you think I can give you what he can’t?” Chuuya’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I’m not that kind of man. I’m not the kind of man you’re looking for.”

“No,” you said. “You’re not that kind of man. You’re Chuuya. The only person that’s always been there for me.”

He hesitated, momentarily, before sweeping you into his arms, his touch the softest you’d ever felt. “Are you certain that you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if Dazai kills me.” Chuuya spoke into your mouth, carving the words into your aching heart. “You were always going to be the death of me, anyway.”

His lips were upon you again, kissing you with the hunger of a starved man, and you gave him back as much as you could, which was the despair of a lonely woman. His touch was one of loving hands as guided you back into the bedroom tenderly.

When your back hit the bed, he asked if you were okay, asked if everything was comfortable. The concern in his eyes had rarely been seen in Dazai’s own—you couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken care of you first.

“I’m fine, Chuuya,” you promised again and again, and you smiled, caressing the soft skin of his jaw.

His lips pulled back in return, and then your shirt was thrown over your head, carelessly tossed towards the corner of the room. Though, no matter how many articles of clothing you lost, the necklace that Dazai had given you still rested against your collarbone.

You cupped your palm around it, trying to avert Chuuya’s gaze as he stared down at the precious metal, something conflicting in his cool irises.

“It’s okay,” you said, doing your best to distract him. You wouldn’t take the necklace off. It didn’t matter how much Dazai had hurt you; you needed the reminder of the absolute infidelity you were committing. “Keep going.”

Feeling more anxious than you had before, you kissed Chuuya, trying to dispel the bile that gathered in the back of your throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” Chuuya said, kissing every inch of your face, his hands hovering over your chest. “I could look at you forever, and it wouldn’t be long enough.”

Chuuya’s sentiments warmed you, but words weren’t enough. You pulled his vest off, then the buttoned-shirt and every other intricate article of clothing he wore.

It felt wrong. His height was wrong. His skin felt too warm under your palm.

“When did you fall in love with me?” you asked, breathing heavily. Desire pooled in your abdomen against your will, your own heart betraying you. Still, it was nothing more than the most basic reaction of human nature, raw and primal, unaffected by the organ that was jailed within your ribcage.

Chuuya was surprised by the question, and he paused, his face just inches above your stomach. “I think I realized when I was seventeen.” He huffed out a laugh, inhaling your perfume. “It was the first time I saw Dazai kiss you. I thought I was going to be sick.” He continued kissing down your body, sliding your pants past your hips. “I’d always wanted you. I guess I just didn’t realize until then.”

You exhaled, feeling tears spring to the corners of your eyes, ones you suppressed.

Dazai had given you flowers that day. You remembered how they smelled, the rainy spring breeze. The way the sun reflected in his brown irises, melting them into candied honey that brightened his entire complexion.

“Then take me, Chuuya. If you’ve wanted me for so long, then fuck me like you mean it.”

His dark eyes flashed, but his gentle caresses never turned rough, never sped through a single moment you had together. You smiled, your expression peaceful and open when he finally slid your panties off, your cunt throbbing as his finger brushed against your swollen clit.

Chuuya took his time with you, singing praises that you hadn’t heard in a long time, and you came once around his slender fingers, the ones that were much less skilled at knowing every place you enjoyed being touched.

When he finally sunk inside you, you still felt empty, unfulfilled. You tried to lose yourself in his mouth, in the taste of wine and Chuuya, and dug your fingers into his back.

“Feel so good around me, baby.” Chuuya whispered into your skin, imprinting the words into your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks, though he wanted to, wanted to claim you as his own. “Taking me so well.”

You tugged on his hair as he kissed down your collarbone, between your breasts, his breath hot and heavy. Though you cried out, you kept your voice quiet, still fearful that someone might hear, might know exactly what kind of betrayal you’d committed.

Chuuya thrust into you slowly, so much gentler than Dazai, hitting the spot deep inside of you that had you arching off the bed. “Fuck,” he said, choking on his own breath. “You have no idea how you make me feel.” He was full of desperation, his hands digging into your hips.

“Chuuya,” you said, holding his head between your palms.

He gave you the brightest smile in return, sad and meaningful. “I know. I can feel you squeezing me tighter. Let go for me, doll.”

His hair was just as soft, but it wasn’t dark enough, wasn’t short enough. His kiss didn’t feel the same, and you felt tears blurring your vision as you realized you’d never wanted him, you only wanted Dazai, and this was all wrong.

Still, you came around him, as he was buried deep inside you, but his name never left your lips, not even as a breathy whisper, because the one that was sitting there was Osamu.

And when he pulled out of you, you stroked him with practiced laziness, moving your hands in the way you knew Dazai liked, even though Chuuya felt so much different in your palm.

Chuuya kissed you as warmth flooded into your hand, and then he was breathing heavily, collapsing onto the bed next to you. He kissed you over and over, holding you tight, and you smiled, satisfied, because at the least, you knew this was what love felt like.

You’d never get it from the man you wanted, so you’d take it from Chuuya, even if it made you feel rotten inside.

The room smelled like sex and betrayal, and Chuuya took care of you, carried you out of the bed for a bath, and gently rinsed away the sweat and grime.

You were silent for most of the time, only reassuring him when he asked if you were alright.

For the first time, maybe you were. You imagined a future where you could learn to love Chuuya, a future where you were finally able to rid yourself of Dazai and start over again.

But it was nothing more than a delusion, a dream that would never happen. Dazai was a part of your soul. You knew that and Chuuya knew that, even as he closed his eyes next to you, the woman that would never give her love to anyone else. Your heart beat and bled for Dazai Osamu, every inch of your being meant for him. It would kill you to let him go, and if he died, you’d die right alongside him.

You turned away from Chuuya, burying your face in your hands, completely unaware that he’d left the bed to sleep in the other room.

You didn’t talk to Chuuya the next morning, not when you took a private car back to Yokohama, not when you stepped foot back onto the Mafia headquarters. Things between you had soured, just as you’d suspected, and you didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t think there was any way to go back from what had happened.

Higuchi was waiting for the two of you when you walked in the door, her blazer perfectly pressed, and her shirt tucked. She greeted you with a half-smile—gesturing towards the stairs. “The boss wants to see all of us for a meeting. He said you two would be arriving at this time.”

You nodded, and Chuuya scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll never understand his superhuman ability to know what’s happening all of the time.”

Swallowing, you followed Higuchi, trying not to hear the foreboding nature of Chuuya’s statement.

Most high-ranking Mafia members were in attendance, with Dazai at the head of the table, the dark wooden chair beside him eerily empty and welcoming. You took a seat, and Dazai’s eyes ran over you, smoothly and hastily, before a small smile appeared on his features. “No injuries?” he said, and though his tone was professional, you could hear the slightest bit of concern.

“None,” you said, and something in your voice cracked, ever so slightly.

You were such a fool. You’d never be able to hide something like this from Dazai.

He eyed you suspiciously, before sliding his glance over to Chuuya, who was as cool as usual. His face was shadowed by his hat, hiding any evidence of a sleepless night.

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, tucking his palm into his hand. “Debrief.”

Your partner gave Dazai every last detail, summarizing as best he could, and sliding in the occasional sarcastic remark as he leaned back casually in the chair. Dazai listened with boredom in his expression, drumming his fingers against the table until Chuuya’s monologue was complete.

He turned to Akutagawa, who bowed his head an immediately launched into his own assignment.

You blinked—you hadn’t realized that Akutagawa’s squad had been sent elsewhere. It made no sense for Dazai to send you with Chuuya when your own division had a separate mission.

The meeting wrapped up quickly, and the members scattered, going their own separate ways for the afternoon. Chuuya refused to meet your eye as he got up from the table, one of the last to leave the room.

As you stood, Dazai closed a hand around your wrist, his thumb brushing your pulse.

“Was the hotel alright?” he asked, his head titled curiously. “You look tired.”

You took a sharp breath.

Fuck.

“It was fine, Osamu,” you said, and when his name slipped easily from your tongue, something in him changed. He loosened the hand on your wrist before releasing it entirely, the bandaged palm falling into his lap. “Thank you.”

Dazai nodded, turning away from you, and you’d forgotten that there were still other people in the room. Akutagawa, who lingered with morbid curiosity, and his sister, who had always sort of pitied you for your tumultuous relationship, bore witness to the brief interaction.

Behind them, Chuuya stood tense, his back straight as he crossed the threshold, sparing you only a glimpse before exiting into the darkened hallway.  

“Alright,” Dazai said in a hushed voice, his face schooled back into the usual, guarded expression. “I’ll see you later.”

It wasn’t much of a response, and he didn’t elaborate, keeping his steely eyes ahead as some low-ranking members trudged in for a meeting with their boss. He’d be busy all afternoon, it seemed.

You swallowed, and left, knowing that it was fruitless to try and keep a secret from him.

Chuuya waited for you outside, his arms crossed as he regarded you with a contempt that hadn’t been there before, such a contrast to the loving man you had seen last night. “This changes everything, you know?”

“I know,” you said, your voice thick with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Chuuya.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he scoffed. “I was the fool. I made my choice.” Chuuya sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I meant what I said, though. Yesterday. It was all true, and if you need anything, I’ll be here.”

You felt a chasm open in your chest, and you wished the floor would’ve swallowed you whole. You were losing everyone, it seemed, and maybe, Dazai really did have a point with his talk about suicide.

When you stepped into the bedroom, Dazai was sitting on the edge of the bed, the setting sun casting a shadow of his own reflection. He was twirling a pistol around his pointed finger, staring at the wall with blank eyes.

You shut the door quietly, your hands shaking against the golden knob.

Though you hadn’t made a sound when you walked through the door, Dazai’s gaze was on you immediately, sensing your entrance.

You’d never been able to slip past him.

“You’re back early.” Those were the first words that came to your mind, your voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. He was regarding you with disdain, his jaw set coolly. His hair turned bronze in the evening rays, loose strands scraping against the bandages.

“I am.” His jaw clenched, examining you with a singular, dark eye. You felt exposed under his gaze, laid bare for him to see no matter how much you shrouded yourself with. “You sound like you’re unhappy to see me.”

Dazai ran his finger along the trigger like he’d never held such a weapon before, the gun becoming an object of morbid fascination. 

You exhaled. There was so much space between you, a distance you weren’t sure you’d ever cross again. Though you thought you knew Dazai better than anyone, in that moment, he was unreadable—a chapter of pages that had been torn out.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, standing tall. Despite your nerves, you were fixated on Dazai, always drawn to him like a moth to a flame, desperate to uncover the very thing that could kill you. “I miss you every time we’re apart. You’re no stranger to my feelings.”

You could offer him that, at the very least. An undeniable truth before everything between you shattered.

Dazai stood, his dark coat billowing out behind him as he finally came to face you, suddenly seeming much taller than you remembered. And with one look, you knew that he knew. He’d always been too smart for his own good.

“I’m not certain of that any longer,” he laughed, though it was a bitter sound that clawed its way up his throat. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, instead.” Dazai stood before you with a smile that was so sweet it was almost sinister. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you did?”

You weren’t sure which one of you would blink first, caught in some deadly staring contest. Most people would’ve surrendered to him by now.

 “Why?” you jutted your chin out, refusing to give in to him in any way. If you were going to die, and you were, you would make sure Dazai knew everything you’d never told him. “You already know.”

“No.” He poked the gun into your cheek, right beneath the sharp bone. He’d clicked the safety off moments before. “I want to hear you say it. You betrayed me.”

When you refused to say a word, Dazai hissed and cocked the gun. He pressed it to your temple, the metal cold against your delicate skin.

“Say it.”

You sniffed. He wasn’t giving in, and instead, stood there silently, unmoving until you finally caved. There was something about the color of his eyes. No matter how much they hardened, you still remembered the young man he used to be. The one who wasn’t quite so cold, who picked you flowers, even with blood dripping down his arm.

“Fine.” You narrowed your eyes. “I fucked Chuuya.”

Dazai blinked. Then, he started laughing. Crazily, maniacally. You saw too much of your old boss in him that it made you sick.

“Shameless.” Dazai took a step back and dropped the gun to his side.

“What?” you sneered, pressing yourself up against him, refusing to be intimidated by the man that had been yours for years. “Should I be ashamed?”

Dazai’s eyes flashed, his jaw clenching. “Yes,” he said, fists curling at his sides. “After everything I’ve done for you.” Dazai grew quieter, flicking a strand of hair out of your face. “Do you feel no remorse?”

“You can’t be serious. What have you done for me, Dazai?” You grew still, grabbing his wrist before he could touch you again. “You’re not upset I was with another man; you’re just upset that it was Chuuya.”

You poked him in the chest, a hot stream of air exhaling through your nose.

“I gave you everything, didn’t I?” The two of you spoke at each other, avoiding the answers, never acknowledging what the other had to say. Around and around you went, an endless circle until one of you finally conceded. “I’ve given you the world, and you still wanted more.” Dazai finally broke free of your loose grasp, stroking your cheek. “What can Chuuya give you that I can’t? I ask for nothing but honesty.”

There was no jealousy in the tone, no sorrow; it was the most genuine question he’d asked you in months. The inquiry of a man who’d lost sight of himself in the past few years, and who’d somehow, over time, forgotten what it meant to care for another.

“You gave me nothing,” you said, but somewhere along the way, your cheeks had grown wet. You’d been struck by the sudden affection in his voice, the softness harsher than a slap to the face.

He was a horrible man, the worst kind of man. Yet, you couldn’t imagine a life without him, a world where you existed alone.

The truth rested at the edge of your tongue. It wouldn’t solve much, your affection for him never had solved much, but at least he would understand.

“This was never about wanting more. I never wanted Chuuya. You’re a fool if you think that.”

Dazai was silent. You pressed on.

“I wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I’ve devoted my entire life to you. I do everything you ask.” You were breathing heavily, big gulping breaths that contained minimal oxygen. “I asked for nothing in return. Nothing but for you to care about me, and you never did.”

“Is that the case?” Dazai laughed humorlessly.

You ignored him, your confession leaving on one heavy breath, a string of words incomprehensible to your ears. “But Chuuya loves me. He always has, and he made certain I knew that.” You paused, averting your eyes. The entire city could be seen from the window over his shoulder. “He told me all of that, and you know what I thought the whole time?”

Dazai scowled.

“I wished that he was you instead. I wanted it to be you so badly, I wanted it to be you saying those things to me, kissing me like I was the most important thing in the world.” You took his wrist again, pressing the gun back to your temple. The cool metal was almost soothing against your skin. “Please, Dazai. Give me this one last thing. I’m begging you to kill me. I can’t take this any longer.”

His finger rested on the trigger.

“I want it to be you. I’ve never wanted to die at anyone’s hands but your own.” His hand felt just as it always had in your palm, his fingers much longer, but his skin so soft. It was almost comforting, how familiar he was, and you longed to be a part of him, to bury yourself deep within him and wear his skin as your own.

Dazai’s expression twitched, and you smiled at him, the taste of salty tears spilling into your mouth.

As you closed your eyes, you prepared for the noise, hoping your blood splattered on Dazai’s coat and stained it, the proof of your existence inerasable. You hoped that Dazai would grow to regret it, would realize that your love for him was close to unconditional.

But the violence never came. The cool metal fell away from your skin, and when you opened your eyes again, Dazai’s shoulders had slumped, the very image of defeat.

“Do you honestly think I can bring myself to kill you?”

“What’s the matter?” you asked, blinking your eyes open. You reached for the gun again, but he drew back, as if stung. “Afraid to lose your best assassin?”

“No.” Dazai’s eyes were hard, his frown set deep into his face. “I’m afraid to lose the woman I love. The most important person in the world to me.”

You stared. Blinked. Then, the worst kind of emotion washed over you.

You swallowed over and over, trying to get the bile out of your throat. You’d wanted to be done, wanted to escape. And yet—

“Don’t say that.” you shook your head, backing away as Dazai inched closer, too close and you felt yourself getting sucked back in, remembering that you’d loved him for years, and you’d never love anyone else. “Fuck you, Dazai. Stop toying with me, and just kill me."

“I love you. I thought you knew that my darling angel.”

You were crying harder, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you. You don’t care about me.”

“No?” Dazai had grabbed your wrist again, but it was so soft. “I thought you were smarter than that. Did you think you were partnered with Akutagawa at random, and not for the sole reason that I knew he’d do everything in his power to protect you? Did you think I moved your seat next to me at meetings because you were nothing more than my stupid whore? Bought you everything you ever wanted because I couldn’t stand you?”

“Yes,” you said, sniffing, feeling yourself melt where he touched you, itching to reach up and pull the bandages off his face, see the beautiful features beneath them that he hid from the world. “You don’t care about me."

“I do care,” he said, fingers grazing your chin. “I’ve killed for you. I took over the Port Mafia so I could give you everything you wanted. Why wasn’t that enough?”

“Because I never wanted that. I never wanted any of this. I wanted you, Dazai Osamu. That was all.”

Dazai frowned, and then he bowed his head, kissed your neck, then around your earlobe, and it was the softest you’d ever felt in your entire life, a gentleness you hadn’t known he was capable of. When his hands snaked around your stomach, pulling you back against him, you were lost in his adoration.

“You never said anything,” he said, kissing your shoulder, breaking the tension in the muscles. You were his, in every lifetime, you’d be his. “I thought you were… happy?”

“How could you think that? I’m not happy, Dazai. I’ve never been less happy.”

“Not even when I tell you that I love you?” he kissed your knuckles.

“Do you love me enough to be a better man? Do you love me enough to let me sleep in your bed and see your whole heart instead of the fragmented pieces that you sliced up just to hide?”

“Yes.” The word was resounding, resolute. “I love you enough to forgive you.”

You held him at a distance, lips falling apart easily. “But I don’t want to forgive you.”

“You will.” Dazai smiled, that irritatingly knowing smile of his that you’d fallen for in the first place. “You will because I mean it this time.”

“You never apologized,” you looked away, trying to find the strength to move. You were enraptured, in every fiber of his being. “You never will. You never do.”

“I never knew anything was wrong,” he frowned, and it wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, and you had him so close that you just wanted to forget anything had ever changed. “How was I to fix it if you never told me?”

His words were full of poison, but his voice was so soft you couldn’t help but fall back into him. Perhaps, you should’ve said something. Maybe your actions had never been enough.

“How long have I been at your side, spent hours listening to your every word, even when they didn’t make sense to me? You should’ve known, Dazai. I shouldn’t have to tell you something like that.” Your words were losing their bite, and his lips quirked up, knowing that you were slowly coming back to him, clearing you of the sins you had committed.

He was hesitant, thoughtful, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And perhaps, that was the final straw in your resistance, his gentle kiss enough to set your soul on fire.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Dazai said, his lips ghosting over yours, handing over the apology like a gift. “Won’t you give me a chance to fix it now?” It felt like a bad idea. Dazai wasn’t deserving of any more chances; you’d already given him years of second chances, had always given him the benefit of the doubt.

“You expect me to believe you’ll let us off scot-free?” you said, your face deadly close to Dazai’s. “What about Chuuya? Will you kill him in my place.”

“You’ve got me in your hand, love. If you want me to punish Chuuya, just say the word. I’ll kill him if that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t. That was the farthest thing from what you wanted, but you worried that if you sounded too enthusiastic, he might just follow through with it.

Instead, you pulled him to you, grabbing the dark tie that he wore around his neck. He grinned into your lips, his saccharine smile seeming much too deadly to be all that sweet. “Do you honestly think I believe a word that you’re saying?”

“You want to,” Dazai said, curling his hand around your jaw, his fingers brushing your ear. “That’s what matters the most.” He kissed your lips, and you could taste the difference, all the love he poured into it this time. It wasn’t like kissing a statue. “It’s all true, anyway.”

You broke away, breathing. “I won’t do this anymore, Dazai.” You finally had his hand in your own, placing the gun back to your temple. “You’re not the man you once were, and you’ll never be him again.” The smile that graced your lips was sad, though it was knowing. Things were always going to end this way.

Dazai’s face wrinkled as he tried to decipher all the words you’d never spoken. “I’m not the same man, that’s true, but my affection for you has never died.” He cupped his other hand around your cheek, hesitantly keeping the gun to your temple, squinting with his head bent.

“You’re the leader of the Port Mafia, and such a ruthless man wouldn’t let a betrayal go unscathed.”

There was a wave of silence while the two of you stared at one another, sifting through the situation with hardness in your jaws, the tension palpable within the air. Dazai straightened, clarity in his irises as a smooth smile burned onto his lips.

“Is that what you want?” he said innocently. “You want to be punished for your insurrections?”

Your mouth grew dry, but you held your ground firmly, swallowing back all the uncertainty. Perhaps you didn’t want to die. Perhaps you did. You just hated the gaping hole inside of you that never seemed to leave. “I want you to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Dazai laughed, then the hilt of the gun was against your temple once more. He held your chin steady between his forefinger and thumb, regarding you with thinly veiled disgust. “You’ve never wanted that before. Not when I asked you to die alongside me, to follow me far into the afterlife.” He sighed, releasing your chin before cocking the gun. “This isn’t about death at all.”

“What—”

“You want me to claim you, is that it?” He clicked his tongue before leaning forward, sneering. “Perhaps it’s that other way around. You want everyone in the Mafia to know I belong to you, hm?’

You blinked, though you began to feel weak in the knees, the eyes that you knew so well suddenly intimidating. “I never said—” but even then, your voice wavered, unsteady and uncertain of the immediate heat that had swirled under your skin.

Dazai’s mouth curled, a gruesome smile there. “I know you better than anyone. I’ve always known exactly what you want. Even though I shouldn’t forgive you, I can’t help myself.”

You swallowed, and Dazai had taken a step forward, pushing you with him, the gun still swaying at your temple, even when the backs of your thighs hit the bed. You fell onto the mattress, and he was on top of you, his finger caressing the trigger as he collapsed.

Dazai had never scared you, not even when he was a child you’d barely known, the teenager shaped in Mori’s image. Though, now, the unreadable expression on his face was alarming you, and you wondered if all this time, you should’ve been fearful.

Still, even with your underlying hesitance, you felt a wave of desire crash over you at the sheer need in his eyes. It wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with, but there was something else there. Maybe it was the love you’d just never noticed.

“Osamu,” you said in a quiet voice, not afraid, but not confident either. Your finger brushed the point on his wrist—it was the same heartbeat you’d always recognized.

“What?” he said, taunting you menacingly as he towered above you. “You were so bold just a second ago? What happened, darling?”

Unable to do anything but blink back at him, Dazai brought his thumb to your lips, brushing it across the plump skin before dipping it into your mouth.

Unprepared, you nearly choked, eyes blown wide as you stared back at him. Though, there was a command within his eyes, and you obliged, sucking as you watched the saliva drip down to his palm. Dazai pulled it away from your mouth with an obscene pop, giving you a sweet smile from his position above you.

Despite your humiliation, you shifted your hips on the bed, bringing your thighs together to provide you with a fraction of relief. Dazai’s eyes flashed at the movement, his smirk widening with an amusement.

“You’re nothing more than a dumb slut, aren’t you?” Dazai’s hand ghosted of your stomach, settling on the inside of your thigh momentarily. You ached with need, swallowing your pride and any demands that you could make of him. “Had Chuuya all to yourself this weekend, and still expect me to fuck you senseless.”

Your brow furrowed, and you opened your mouth before shutting it, lips still covered in your own spit. “Osamu,” you began, attempting to diffuse the situation, to explain that what had transpired between you and Chuuya meant nothing, but he never gave you the opportunity. “It wasn’t—”

Dazai’s gaze hardened, the adoration disappearing the moment you dared to speak. His fingers deftly wrapped around your throat, thrusting you into the mattress with enough force to quiet you entirely. “Shut up. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll ask. Understand?”

You could do nothing but nod, hating yourself for the ache that had grown more and more intense in your core, desperate for some sort of contact. Dazai, distracted with his own task of tearing your top off, had failed to notice the breathing that had grown heavier, the flush of heat that spread on every inch of your body.

His slender fingers finally removed the confining pants, a task he did skillfully with one hand still wrapped around your throat. Then, his fingers were against your aching cunt, and you twitched, letting out a heavy sound from the singular movement. You could feel yourself pulsing against nothing, desperate for his fingers between your legs.

“Pathetic,” he said, his fingers lazily dipping through your folds over your underwear. “I’ve barely touched you. How can you be this fucking wet?”

“Please,” you said quietly, your own hand aching to take over, if only to provide yourself that relief that he refused to give you. Every time you shifted into his hand, he brought it away, taunting you with the release you so craved.

“Please?” Dazai was mocking, cruel, every bit of the person people expected him to be. The one he never had been with you, not until recently. “You’re nothing more than a greedy little whore. Must have been why you fucked Chuuya without a second thought, huh?”

You were silent, staring him down with a clenched jaw. Your brain was twisting, betraying you, turning into empty cells within your skull, and you weren’t sure how to handle the accumulation of emotions that you felt for the man before you, the one who’s love had always been purposeful and merciless.

“Well?” he said, tightening a hand to close off the air to your lungs, trapping you with his strength. “Answer me.”

“No,” you gasped, and when your words sounded choked, when you clawed at his wrist, he loosened his grip just a hair, the only indication that the man you loved was in there at all. Still, your hips acted of their own accord, shifting further into his hand. “I’m sorry, Osamu, I am.” You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he finally slipped his fingers under your panties, rubbing your aching clit. “I wanted you; I needed you and you were never there, but Chuuya was, and—”

You were a stammering mess of desperation and regret, feeling unglued under Dazai’s hands, like the words you’d been meaning to say could finally come out. He was the only one who’d ever listened to you completely, who you’d felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with. Yet, it had been so long since you’d let yourself be open with him, and now that the opportunity arose, you were too weak to deny it.

“I was always here,” Dazai said harshly, and you were almost certain that his anger was genuine, the tone breaking in his voice a result of true sadness. “You never came to me, and I thought that’s how you wanted it to be.” His fingers sunk into you, and you threw your head back into the pillow, moaning sinfully with the lewd sound of him sinking in and out of you, the wetness collecting with every movement.

“You never showed me you cared,” you cried out, certain that there were tears streaming down your cheeks, and you should’ve been humiliated. It was humiliating—the way you were clothed in nothing, crying as Dazai laughed at you, taking full control over your body. How he could’ve done anything to you in that moment, and you would’ve let him, because that was just how much you wanted him.

“And Chuuya was the solution?” He grabbed your cheeks with the hand that had once been around your throat, pinching them to make you look at him. “You going to pass yourself around the rest of the Mafia, sweetheart? Who’ll get a taste of you next? I’m not so certain even Akutagawa would pass up the opportunity.”

His words were senseless, meant to hurt you, and you still couldn’t stand the anguish that was in his eyes.

“No,” you said, and you leaned up, wanting so badly for his lips to be on yours, to feel some semblance of the connection that you’d always had with him. “I wouldn’t, Dazai, I’m yours.” You choked on the sounds of your own moans, your thighs shaking with every change in pressure. “I’m yours. Please, I need you.”

You were certain there were marks on your neck from his fingertips, and Dazai ghosted his mouth along the delicate skin there, biting at the soreness from before. You jerked, digging your nails into his back as you drew closer and closer to your climax.

“Don’t make demands.” Dazai leaned back, and you missed the closeness, the sharp scent of him lingering in your space. “Chuuya hasn’t been a part of this conversation yet. Should we get him up here? I hadn’t considered what to do with him, but this might suffice.”

Dazed and drunk on the feeling of his hands all over you, it took you a moment to process what he was saying. His hand was already swiping through his phone, picking the number of the man that you least wanted to see.

“No, Osamu, don’t—” you cried out, and yet, you made no move to stop him. Instead, you remained pliant on the bed as he sunk another finger into you, his thumb moving in agonizing circles against your clit.  He tucked the cellphone under his chin, smiling at you maliciously, controlling you with every blink of his lashes.

You had always had trouble resisting him. Now was no different.

Chuuya answered as you released another moan, and Dazai was grinning wickedly, as if some larger scheme had finally come together, the culmination of everything he was plotting. “Boss?”

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, and you flinched, locking gazes with his deep brown irises, the color so alluring and beautiful, a shade that had darkened with each misfortune you’d endured together. You hated him, you did, but there was a fine line between the two, and your love for him would die with you, would transcend whatever simple rules the afterlife placed on Earth. “How quickly can you make it up here?”

You could hear the hesitation on the other side; Chuuya didn’t say anything for a moment.

“A couple minutes, I think. I haven’t left the building.”

“I’ll give you a couple minutes then.” Dazai’s words were clipped as he hung up the phone, throwing it to the arm chair a few feet away from the bed.

His attention was back on you completely as you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure before Chuuya came into the room. Though it was so hard when the pools in his irises were pulling you deeper, locking you into a heaven that you’d never been able to reach.

Dazai pulled away briefly, his soaking fingers leaving your body to alleviate his cock from the confines of his dark pants, hovering before you.

You swallowed, not able to remember the last time your desire for him ached this badly. Your eyes trained on the very part of him that you wanted inside of you, the tip flushed so beautifully. There was nothing on your mind but him, how you wanted every part of him, even if it meant enduring misery after misery, and Chuuya was right—if you were to love Dazai, you needed to love every part of him, even when it seemed impossible.

A whine escaped you and you were reaching out to him, knowing he’d never let you live down your humiliation, but the future was not a part of your logical thinking, not now. “Want you inside me.”

“Surely you can hold off for a few minutes,” Dazai said, though the way his toned chest pressed to your own, and how he kissed your face with a tenderness you’d forgotten made it nearly impossible for you to refrain. “So desperate for my cock.”

You wanted to touch yourself—you would’ve, had you not been so nervous of the fact that Chuuya could come in at any minute.

“Tell him to leave,” you said, dragging your fingers through his hair, finally kissing him like you’d been wanting to, and the sound was sinful, heavy with lust as you forced a taste into his mouth, wishing every part of him was a part of you too. “I don’t want him or anyone else, just you, I promise—” 

Dazai cut you off and ignored your pleas; he smiled against your lips, though it was anything but kind. “I think he’ll enjoy seeing you like this, won’t he? You’ve got such a filthy mouth on you when you’re fucked properly.” He kissed his way down your chest, resting his face just above your breasts. “I bet Chuuya didn’t see this side of you, did he?” Dazai licked a circle around your nipple, tugging it between his teeth. “I’ve done nothing but call you names and you’re dripping all over the sheets.”

You shook your head, feeling pained by how badly you wanted release.

“Of course not.” Dazai sat back up like he could sense Chuuya approaching from the other side of the door, his presence bold and detectible. “He’s forgotten what’s mine, after all.” He smiled at you once more, kissing you with a kind of love that only he could portray, the kind that was nowhere close to innocent. “Don’t cum until I tell you to. Be good for me, okay?”

Dazai had always known what to say to you, even when your relationship was falling apart, even when you hated him more than you loved him. His words could be so tender, the praise melted in with the unkind quips of his tongue. It was the gentlest tone he’d used since your clothes had come off, and you couldn’t help but melt under him, nodding like you’d give him anything he asked of you.

Of course you would.

Dazai traced your features delicately, grinning maniacally, ears attuned to the quiet that broke from the footsteps approaching. His cock was lined up against your dripping hole, and it took every ounce of restraint not to plant yourself on it, trying so hard to please him, the sinful man who held too much power over you.

“You’re so pretty like this, aren’t you? My beautiful little whore, always willing to take whatever I give you.”

“’Samu,” you babbled, blinking away the tears as you latched onto him, wishing you could spare yourself the humiliation, but too drunk on him to care. He shifted you forward, taking your thighs in his hands and placing them around his waist. “I can’t take it all at once—”

“You’ve done it before. Do it again.” He growled, squeezing your throat once more in one smooth motion, thrusting into you. And though you had doubted how prepared you were, he slid into you easily, already so loose and pliant from his fingers. “See? Never forgot the shape of me, sweetheart. Even after you’ve been with another man.”

You let out a choked moan as Chuuya walked into the room, lost in the ache and the burn and the pleasure that came with loving and fucking Dazai.

There was one singular pass of silence before Chuuya spoke, letting the door shut with a quiet click on the hinge. “Boss—” Chuuya was hesitant, though his eyes were immediately drawn to you, raking over your blissed-out form. “You said to—” His hand was still on the knob, though he was distracted, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, ashamed but so full of want that it ached.

“Come in, Chuuya,” Dazai said sharply, his words solid and commanding, and you couldn’t help it when you clenched around him, drawing him further into you with nails scraping down his back. “We should discuss something.”

“Well, can we talk about it when you’re not in the middle of fucking your girl?” Chuuya asked, swallowing down the desire he hid so poorly. His cheeks had flushed, words just on the edge of stumbling and slurring together. “Another time, maybe.”

“This is the perfect time, actually,” Dazai stopped moving, already breathing heavily above you as you stared, whined, needing so badly for him to stop teasing you. “Besides,” his eyes drifted knowingly to Chuuya’s obvious erection as he laughed darkly. “I don’t think you mind so much.”

Dazai pulled back painfully slowly before sinking into you with a quicker thrust, your back arching off the mattress to catch even more of him inside of you. A barely noticeable sweat had broken against his hairline, and you stared at him, mouth slightly agape in awe at the boss of the Port Mafia, the one you somehow had wrapped around your little finger.

Your breathing had grown unsteady as his cock got deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting where you’d never been quite able to get with your fingers, the thickness of him catching on every sensitive part inside of you. His hand was back between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit, and you weren’t sure you could last much longer, not as he carried on a conversation with Chuuya, who watched you with darkened eyes, barely holding himself back.

“Please, Osamu,” you were practically begging now, your cheeks glistening with wetness as you clawed at the muscles between his shoulder blades, surely leaving bruises all down his spine. “Please, please, let me cum.”

Dazai made a tsk noise in the back of his throat. “Not yet. I don’t think you deserve it quite yet, does she, Chuuya?”

Chuuya sniffed, shifting uncomfortably as his pants grew tighter. “Gonna punish her all day, boss? Such a pretty thing should get what she wants, shouldn’t she?”

Dazai dropped his chest closer to you, going deeper into you, and you cried out his name, though your eyes were still locked with Chuuya, as if he were going to be your savior. You remembered how gently he’d touched you, how careful he was, and you wondered why you’d ever wanted that at all.

“Chuuya thinks he can fuck you better than me, darling, but you know that’s not true, don’t you? He’d spoil you too much, but this is what you want, right? You want to be called a stupid fucking cockslut.” Dazai grinned against your lips, whispering in a breath that only you could hear. “Just so that at the end of it all, you’ll be my good girl.”

You whimpered, soaking him as you clenched harder. Your brain had gone numb from the feeling of him. Dazai was smiling viciously, but you could see the underlying tenderness.

“She looks so pretty right now, doesn’t she Chuuya? Not a single thought in that beautiful little head of hers.” He smiled at him knowingly, dark hair flopping into his eyes as the rest of the loose tendrils stuck to his forehead. “You’re lucky. You’ve gotten two chances to see her now. Twice as many as most men who fantasize about fucking a woman that sleeps in another man’s bed.”

Chuuya’s voice was raw, his words cracked. “You’re sick, Dazai,” he said, clenching his hands into fists. “Putting on a show like this just to punish me.”

“You and I both know you’re enjoying this.” Dazai traced your cheeks sweetly, kissing your lips deeply. You let out a strangled breath into his mouth, something on the precipice of a moan. “Can you do one thing for me, pretty girl? One more, then I’ll let you cum, how’s that?”

You nodded, desperately, as Dazai’s fingers finally dipped back down, rubbing agonizingly light circles.

“Tell Chuuya who’s making you feel this way,” Dazai said, pushing your face away from him to stare straight into Chuuya’s dark eyes. “Tell him who you love the most.”

“You,” you gasped out, clenching tighter around him. What an easy request to make—you’d never loved anyone else. “I’m in love with you.”

Dazai sniffed, though he was patient, slowing his thrusts almost to a stop. “Not good enough. I need you to be more specific.”

You cried out, locking your ankles onto his hips, trying to force him back into you. But Dazai didn’t budge, watching you until you provided the answer that he so desired. “I love you, Dazai.”

He frowned, shaking his head once more. “My name. Say it. It sounds so sweet from your lips.”

“Osamu,” you choked out. “I love you, Osamu. I love you. I love you.”

Dazai finally smiled above you, gently tracing your cheeks with his thumb as he slowed down the pace of his hips. “I love you too, darling.” His words were soft, whispered into your lips before he turned away, meeting eyes with Chuuya across the room. “See?”

Chuuya was glowering, stiff as a board, his face pink, and his legs shaky. “I got it, Boss.” He choked out, though his eyes were on you, unable to leave your body, even as he tried so hard to be polite. His aching cock strained against his pants, and he breathed sharply, swallowing over and over. “Do I need to be here any longer?”

Dazai laughed, and you thought he looked so pretty when he did that, his smile flashing wide and alluring, the corners of his eyes crinkling marginally. “Never said you had to stay. I figured you’d want to watch her come undone one last time.”

Chuuya, for as noble as he wanted himself to be, made no move to leave, glued to the spot on the floor beyond your bed. He was just across the room, but you couldn’t focus on anyone but Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, the man who you’d killed and bled and committed horrible acts for.

You said his name again, scrambling to bring his attention back to you, hands on his face with a desperation you didn’t realize you’d possessed.

And Dazai, with the kindness of a man he wasn’t, placed his hands just above your stomach, leaving kisses across your chin as he thrust into you, sweetly, menacingly, one last time. “You did so good, my love. You can cum now. Make a mess all over my cock, beautiful.”

You jerked, squeezing around him as you felt the pressure in you finally release, the colors shifting and changing between your high as Dazai brought you in and out of an orgasm, his words reaching your muddled brain with soothing noises. Your body twitched as your muscles spasmed, sweat gathering in the space under your knees. There was little in your mind, save for the dark-haired man that had quickly become your whole world.

You smiled lazily, lacing your fingers with Dazai as you slowly began to come back to yourself. The world around you was empty. Chuuya had all but disappeared into a block of nothingness as you stared into the world itself. If there was no Dazai, there was no you, and it was as simple as that. He was everything you’d ever wanted—you’d be a fool to ever left him go.

As you regained your breathing, still sensitive all over, Dazai came inside you, spilling hot release into you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care, too busy being satisfied with the feeling of him all over you.  His hands never left you—he was delicate, caring, pressing loving touches into your skin as you recovered from your high.

“I’m yours, Osamu,” you said, closing your eyes as you basked against the bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up against him, bury yourself in the warmth of another body. 

He smiled against your cheeks, lips flushed and bruised. “I know you are,” he said to you only, before pulling away. You shivered, but opened your eyes, and he’d already held the gun out to you, presenting it as an offering. “That’s why you’ll be the one to kill him.”

It took you all of ten seconds to remember who him was, and that the man who had borne witness to your most intimate moments with Dazai had not disappeared and was still gawking at you from the corner of the room.

“What?” you asked stupidly, your jaw falling open.

“You heard me.” Dazai pressed the pistol into your palm, curling your fingers around the handle. It was like ice against your hot body, and though it’d been years since your first time firing such a weapon, you suddenly felt like you were there again, uncertain, and afraid of the dangerous firearm. “Kill him.”

You stared at Chuuya, the honest man who, even despite his rough exterior, had been there for you since you were kids. You remembered how the three of you had been so close, for such a long time, until Dazai had gone and killed Mori and fucked it all up.

It felt wrong. The entire situation was wrong, and it never should’ve come to this.

“It’s Chuuya,” you said with tired eyes, something in your voice pleading and desperate.  

Dazai shrugged, holding you close against him as you struggled to sit up in the bed. Your muscles ached and you were still so sensitive, but reality was coming back to you. This was all a mess, and you wanted so badly to feel shame at everything you had done, but you were trying so hard just to–

“You’d think I’d let him live after what he did?”

“Osamu.” You weren’t sure you could bear it. You’d always sworn to kill whatever adversary Dazai and the Port Mafia faced, but Chuuya would always be an exception. You wanted him in your life as much as you wanted Dazai, someone you could trust without fail, who would listen to you complain even when it hurt him. “I won’t do it. He’s my friend. I thought he was yours too.”

Dark eyes full of disdain met your own, and he pinched your jaw once more, a mixture of devastating anger. “I can’t allow a traitor to live. I’ll kill him if you won’t. Then, I’ll kill you. Then myself.”

You shoved him away, suddenly wishing you weren’t so exposed, on display in the middle of the room. “Then fucking do it already, Dazai. What are you waiting for?” A tear broke free from your eye, and you wiped it furiously, not giving him a chance to mock you.

“Stop.” Chuuya finally spoke, his voice drawing your attention like a commandment, and you fell silent, refocusing on him as he bowed before you, dropping to his knees. Eyes locked onto your own without a single fear, cruel acceptance surrounding dark pupils. “It’s alright. I deserve to die. I’ve broken your trust, boss. I might as well be a traitor to the Mafia.” He swallowed, though he was unwavering. “I don’t want to live with this feeling any longer.”

“Don’t say that.” you spat, hating that such a strong man was giving himself over, exposing every weary weakness that he’d come to carry. “You don’t mean it.”

“I do.” He sighed, straightening his spine as he leaned forward towards your hand, much as you had done before, and you realized that this was such a sick, twisted change of fate. That the affection you’d always doubted was real after all, but Chuuya was still left playing the fool.

Perhaps, you were of the same vein, wanting desperately to die in the heavenly hand of the one you loved most. You could understand him for that. You could grant him one final wish.

“Do you regret any of it?” Dazai asked, as the wheels in your head spun, the decision dawning upon you, handed over from the ancient tragedies, rival even to the gloomy romances of Shakespeare.

Chuuya shifted towards the other man, looking into his cold, distant eyes. “No,” he said honestly, his jaw set. “I don’t regret it because now I know she’ll never love me. She’s all yours Dazai. Always has been. Always will be. Does that satisfy you?”

There wasn’t an ounce of fury in his expression when Dazai smiled back.

“You heard him,” Dazai said, lifting your limp arm by the elbow, pointing it like a skilled tutor. The gun was on Chuuya’s forehead, between his eyebrows, and your finger was on the trigger. Dazai’s whisper was like the Devil on your shoulder, and you were falling fast, your last shred of morality burnt from papery resolve. His hand supported your weakened muscles, guiding you along like you’d never before committed such an act. “You’re an assassin, aren’t you?”

You stiffened, narrowing your eyes before cocking the gun, mustering up the last bit of strength you had left. Chuuya couldn’t have looked more prepared for death, and you basked in Dazai’s prideful smile as he branded it into the crook of your neck.

“You’re certain?” you said to Chuuya, once more, hand no longer shaking despite your guilt.

The man, nothing more than a victim, nodded, and he had the audacity to smile, to look peaceful about his release from this life.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya. You shouldn’t have to bear the weight of my sin.” “It’s mine to carry, just as it is yours,” he scoffed, eyes hard with resolve. “Of all the things that would land me in Hell, I hardly believe this is the worst.”

You nodded, regrettably, and took a steely breath, erasing the heat the stung behind your eyes.

Then, you pulled the trigger. You waited for Chuuya’s brains to stain your floors, for the remnants of his skull to shatter all across the wall behind him. For the life to slowly drain from his stunningly bright eyes, leaving you with nothing but a corpse that would rot away wherever Dazai chose to toss his body.

Though, none of those things happened, and you stared at each other with fierce incredulity, knowing that you’d unwillingly become puppets in Dazai’s dramatic play, a show put on for no one’s entertainment but his own.

You’d been completely senseless, an idiot, really. The gun had felt lighter than usual, and you’d ignored it, even when you should’ve known it housed no bullets.

“Dazai?” you said in a low voice, dangerously, twisting to look at him from over your shoulder. An anger you’d never felt before had bubbled up inside of you, your heart thundering with a fierceness you hadn’t realized was a part of you. “There’s no bullets.”

“Obviously,” he scoffed, taking the gun away like it was but a toy, throwing it onto the armchair in the corner. “I’d never kill the strongest ability-user in the Mafia. You both should know me better by now.”

You scowled, the ugly expression marring your face, and Dazai frowned, leaning forward to appease you. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You played me for a fool. Was all of this an act?” you cried, wondering if maybe Dazai had been lying this entire time. Maybe all those sweet words he said had never been true, and you had fallen for them anyway, like the mindless pawn you were.

“Which part?” Dazai asked, but you could tell that he knew what answer you sought, what lies you wanted to unveil.

“You know which part,” you said, moving away from him, not sure what emotion to grant control. You felt an intense amount of fury, misery, and pity for yourself, who’d never asked Dazai for anything but to be on your side, and he still couldn’t give you that. “Fuck you, Dazai.”

Your lip quivered, but if you’d begun to cry, shame would swallow you up and drown you in the dark abyss of misery. You would have no other choice but to throw yourself out the window, where everyone in the Port Mafia could bear witness to all the ways that Dazai had ruined you.

“Boss—”

Chuuya’s sentence was cut off sharply.

You’d tried to climb out of the bed, but Dazai had grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could escape from him once and for all. Though he spoke to Chuuya, his eyes were hard on you, never leaving the set he stared into as you swallowed over and over, trying to think of anything but the sick feeling in your chest.

“You can leave now, Chuuya. Consider this your lucky day.” His voice was icy, threatening, and though Chuuya lingered a moment before climbing to his feet, he spared you nothing but a small glance in return.

You inhaled, then exhaled, trying to stop the simmering of blood within your veins, feeling the heavy weight of his hand on your wrist. As you sat there in silence, waiting for him to be the one to break it, you started to wonder how much of this was really Dazai’s fault, and how much you were the one to blame.

“It was a test.” Dazai tried to bring your attention back to him, letting only a fragment of emotion drain into his voice, though it was enough to slowly, slowly pique your fascination once more. “That was all.”

You wet your lips, though your tongue was just as papery. “So none of it was real.”

“What do you mean?” Dazai came to sit in front of you, his skin pale in the dark lighting, and you could see the cracks in his facade, and maybe this splinter in your failing relationship would slowly begin to heal itself. “Everything I said was very much real.”

His soft fingertips traveled up your arm, curling around your shoulder, across your collarbone, before settling in that delicate space between your jaw and your ear. There was a starry look in his eyes, the twin pair that had been exposed.

“Why would you do something like that to me?” you said, scrunching your face in remorse, wanting to slither away from him, even as he drew you closer, close enough to smell the expensive cologne he wore, the liquor that he favored when you were away. His hair had been freshly washed, and the smell of shampoo still lingered, even under the thin layer of sweat.

“Why would you do something like that to me?” Dazai countered, the hurt not veiled in the slightest this time, and it didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. Heat flooded to your cheeks, and you were looking away, wondering why he was pulling you close to his chest when he should be hating you with the passion of a thousand fiends. “How could I trust you after that?”

You parted your lips to speak, but your jaw was locked, and the inside of your mouth tasted like cotton.

“I’m not a good man,” Dazai said, kissing the shell of your ear, your temple, and you squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to his bicep. “You’ve always known this. Yet, for as often as you talk about me with disgust dripping from your words, I’ve never sought to bring you pain.” He breathed in deeply, and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how much longer it’d be before you wept. “You’ve caused me pain.”

You tried to cry out, to tell him that you never thought it would hurt him, but he’d seen the very same in you, hadn’t he? You’d never given him any indication that the coldness in his words was bothering you, that the blurred lines of your relationship were getting confusing and hurtful, and he had done the same.

“We’re not good for each other, Osamu,” you whispered quietly, your lip quivering. The weight of your voice shattered against your vocal cords.

He let out a breathy laugh, smiling against your forehead. “On the contrary, I think we’re the perfect fit.”

For what reason he believed that, you weren’t sure.

You clenched your jaw tight, but it didn’t stop the feeling of tears from overwhelming you, hot droplets that spilled heavy from your eyes, running off your chin to Dazai’s chest. Your hands shook, clenched around his arms so tightly you were sure you were breaking the skin.

Dazai pulled away, monitoring your face with concern. You hated the way he looked at you with such pity when he was the reason for such pain. Yet, you couldn’t help but curl into him, warm, never wanting to escape from his reverence. “Why are you crying, my sweet angel?”

Nausea soured your mouth, and the regret that tinged you, tainted you, was vastly overwhelming. It was horrible in a way that you’d never felt.

It struck you, then, that you’d been blind to Dazai’s every affection, too ignorant to notice the ways that they had shifted as his life did. He no longer held your hand over the table during meetings, but the chair beside his was just as grandiose, and he greeted you with something of a smile when you walked into each room. He no longer accompanied you on assignments, but you were always taken care of, in a hotel most people couldn’t afford with a partner that could singlehandedly take out a hundred men. He no longer picked you flowers from a wild field as he’d done as a boy, but the vase on the table always held a beautiful bouquet of deep, red roses, without a single wilting flower.  

Chuuya, all this time, all these years had been right. There was no use in loving Dazai if you couldn’t stand him in his darkest hour, the bitter ugly side of him that no one wanted to see.

You’d never thought about it, really, but you’d changed just as he had. Everyone in the Mafia had blood on their hands, was ruined in more ways than one, and you were no exception. If loving Dazai meant loving those parts of him, then loving you meant just the same.

The tears fell harder, and Dazai seemed panicked, stricken, always so oblivious when it came to the affairs of your heart, and sometimes he tried, but you couldn’t hate him if he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you said pitifully, knowing from the spoiled heart in your very chest had ruined everything. “I’m sorry.” You said it again and again until Dazai was shushing you, running a large, cool palm down your back, the only way he knew to soothe you.

“I wish I’d never done it. I wish I’d just spoken to you, asked you, anything—” you wiped your face, heavy breaths stuttering before Dazai took your hands away, and erased the tears for you. “I just thought you hated me. It was the only thing that made sense.”

Dazai smiled sadly, because no one had taught him to love. How was he to know that he’d been doing it wrong all this time. “I wish I’d seen it before. I didn’t mean to push you away.” He sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder with a weariness that he’d been born with. “I’m sorry.”

A tingling sensation began under your skin, and you were warm all over, realizing just how much that apology had meant to you. For some reason, it felt like coming home.

The strong grip that nostalgia had on you gradually began to melt away.

#chuuya x you #dazai x you #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #osamu dazai x you #chuuya x fem!reader #dazai x fem reader #bsd chuuya #nakahara chuuya #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader x dazai #bsd smut #dazai smut #chuuya smut #osamu dazai smut #chuuya nakahara smut #rylie writes ₊˚🎧

[monster-slxt]

You are an exorcist that specializes in exorcising demons.

Currently, you are investigating a small town that's had an unusual amount demonic activity.

You questioned the towns people, however, most seem unwilling to even mention the stranger going ons in their town and simply avoid your questions before quickly walking away.

Lucky for you though, you manage to overhear a few of the towns folk gossiping with each other.

Apparently, for the last few months, a terrifying creature has been roaming the streets seemingly search for something. What it is looking for no one wants to know...

Even more terrifying was that anyone foolish enough to still be out at night would go missing. Only to be found the next morning unconscious with their clothes in tatters.

You then visit the local church to see if the priest if he knows anything.

The priest is surprisingly welcoming of you. Quickly leading you inside and even offering some refreshments.

You explain why your here and ask if priest may know of anything. But the priest sadly shakes his head.

With a sigh, you get up to leave, but are quickly stopped by the priest. He says that it is too dangerous to go out this late and that you should stay in the church with him at least until sunrise.

Deciding it's probably a good idea, you agree.

That night as you sleep in the bed given to you, the priest silently creeps into the room. He stares down with glowing red eyes at your sleeping form.

He so desperately wanted to crawl on top of you and rip that teasingly thin layer of clothing from your oh so tempting body and fuck you until your moans like a bitch in heat.

But ah, he can't. Not yet at least. It simply wasn't the right moment.

It ironic really, before he would have condemn such lecherous thoughts. Back then he was a devout servant of God. A truly holy man.

But that was before he got possessed by the demon. Before his mind and soul were beyond redemption.

Now he was nothing more than a monster that indulges into his own sin.

For the past few months his demon had been searching for a mate, but has had no luck.

None of the humans he found were right. Sure they were decent fucks, but they broke way too easily and left him unsatisfied.

Then you appeared.

The moment he saw you, he knew you were perfect. A single whiff of your scent was enough to have the demon in him purring.

Oh he couldn't wait to see you round with his offspring! All in good time, love~

Kissing you on the mouth anon this is so good-

Of course, in the morning the priest would offer up the bed for as long as I needed to rid the town of its demonic influence. And of course I'd suspect nothing from a holy man. The next few days would go on much the same, getting nowhere with the locals during the day and sleeping in the church at night. The priest taking every opportunity to leer at me while I sleep, weakening my defense slowly with his unholy magic. At least The townsfolk seemed to ease up a bit with the lack of recent attacks.

It was only when I'd finally gotten frustrated with getting nowhere and decided to go out at night myself that I'd catch a glimpse of anything demonic. A huge hulking beast unlike anything I'd seen in all my years as an exorcist with a goats head and huge bat wings. The most I'd ever dealt with was a tiny imp. So I panicked.

All I could think to do in the moment was run for the church, the beast lazily keeping pace. It was clear as it followed me onto the holy ground that there was nothing I could possibly do. The sudden hint of arousal mixed into the fear the beast could smell of me finally became too much to bear- lunging forwards and easily catching me in its claws.

"I've waited so long for this" a rumbling deep yet somehow familiar voice purrs in my ear as long claws shred my clothes like butter. My attempts to flee were quickly stopped by an ungodly long tongue licking down my neck and a sudden weight on my stomach.

Risking a glance I felt faint. The demons cock was so huge there was no possible way it could fit inside me. Though he seemed intent on trying, pulling back and lining up with my cunt.

Without warning half the huge rod slammed inside of me, the stretch unimaginable. He wasted no time in pulling out and jackhammering back in, each thrust forcing more and more of his demonic cock in me. It was only then that I dimly became away of the familiarity in the demons voice; the priest. He moaned how I would be such a good broodmare, taking his corruption so well.

All night he fucked me, never once slowing down. Pumping me full of his demonic seed over and over again until sun rise. Leaving me with my stomach huge and swollen with cum, no doubt already knocked up, to go get ready for Sunday mass.

Nine months later I'm showing a group of church woman my engagement ring, stomach round and tight with twins. How lucky I was, the ladies cooed, that the priest was willing to marry me pregnant with an exes child. Not many men would, but he was just so good and holy.

If only they knew they knew they were praying with the father of the hellspawn kicking in my stomach

#asks #monsterfucking #monster smut #tetro #dubcon #preg #demon

[hornyjail23]

Here is the first story from the poll

Sub tentacle monster x reader

You went down to the beach to relax. You took a cooler for drinks and snacks along leaving extra room in case you found anything interesting to decorate your home. As you walked along, you found a small cave in the rocks. You decided to go explore. You could tell from the tide pools that the tide would rise enough to come into the cave but not so much as you wouldn't be able to get out at high tide.

As you looked through the tide pools you felt a small grasp on your ankle. You were expecting a small inquisitive octopus but instead you only saw a long tentacles reaching out of a small hole.

You stood there and watched as more of the tentacle came out. You didn't want to spook it but you wanted to see it. The tentacle worked it's way up your thigh until it reach the edge of your swimsuit. You smiled as you knew this was not just a curious octopus.

You take a step back, trying to see how curious it is. More of the tentacle comes out of the hole, followed with more tentacles. As they reach you, you take another step back as well as beaconing it out of its hole with your hand.

It finally fully exited. Now seeing it in its full form, you wanted it. But you were cautious. You heard stories of people getting transfixed by these monsters and becoming wanton sluts, at the mercy of the monster. That did sound nice but you wanted something else instead.

As it tentacles again began reaching up and around your legs, you spoke to it, "wait. Stop before we go any further." The creature stopped but didn't withdrawal its arms. "You seem intelligent, that you can understand me," it nodded that it does, "good. So I want to offer you something different." You could see it think for a moment before tapping you to continue.

"We can have sex here. It will be a one time thing." It's tentacles began again reaching up, edging at the hem of your clothes, "or!" it paused, "or, I can take you home. We can have lots of sex. And once done, you decide if you want to stay with me, follow my rules, or I am bring you back here and you can try catching another explorer."

You both sat there as it thought. Eventually it recoiled it's tentacles and waited patiently. You went back to your chest and emptied it out. You did want to fuck the monster but you didn't want others to know about it. You filled half of it with sea water, "I will transport you home in this. The lid will be left cracked in case you need air and you can see out but I don't want others to catch you. For now, until you decide otherwise, are mine." It seemed to nod and crawled into the cooler. You wheeled it back to the car and quickly drove home.

Once there, you unloaded the cooler and brought it inside with your new friend. "Give me a quick moment in the room. I will call when it's ready." It waved you ahead with a tentacle. You rushed into your bedroom and got items out. You got out every vibrator you owned a long with ropes with adjustable wrist restraints. You weren't sure if that would work on a tentacle but it was worth a try.

"Ok! Ready!" You call out to the monster. It crawls in and onto the bed. "Just to explain, before we get started. I am going to tie you up. Then, we are going to fuck until I am satisfied. It's obvious that you can understand me but can you talk?"

It nodded and in a gargling voice that sounded like it was still underwater, "yes but most people don't care."

You nod back, "good. Please let me know if something hurts, or is too tight, or if you need me to stop, ok?" It nodded again and climbed on the bed. You strap it down the best you can, some tentacles are tied together while others are spread apart. You find 1 vibrator that works as a cock sleeve. You slide that on one tentacle before tying it down. Once done, you check everything is ok and the monster is comfortable.

You start by slowly turning on each vibrator on a low setting. With each new vibration, its free tips seemed to curl and reach out more frantically. The last vibrator was the cock sleeve. This caused the biggest reaction. The monster moaned out loud and it's fluids began leaking out.

Though panting and moaning it spoke up, "if we continue this again, we need more of these things." This caused you to smile. You strip naked and began touching yourself as it watched. Soon it began spraying out it's cum from each tentacle. You walked over and begin playing with the cum. You scope some in your hand and rub it on you to help lube you up, "that was quicker than I thought." The monster nodded, "new sensations, too good"

You now join it on the bed, straddling over it's mouth, "that's just the beginning, now your turn to give some pleasure." It immediately began licking frantically. It's tongue might as well be another tentacle they way it reached and curved around your body.

You turn each vibrator to a different setting now, watching how each on reacts. Some pulse with the vibes, others whipping the tips around frantically as more of its juices flowed. Now you grab the tentacle with the sleeve. You slide it up and down the whole length of tentacle. This caused the monster to scream out in joy from all the different sensations as it pleases you with it's mouth.

It wasn't long when it began whimpering that it was close. That's when you took the tip of the sleeves tentacle in you mouth and rubbed the next tentacle with your free hand. It came hard in your mouth and across the bed from the other tentacles.

You untie just the two tentacles you had been touching while chastising the monster, "so rude, you have cummed twice now and I haven't once. you better make it up to me." The monster nodded as you took both free tentacles and placed them where you wanted them, one in the front of your hips and another on the back. It immediately entered you and filled you up as best it could while also rubbing against all your sensitive parts. You bit your lip as it was sudden and was going to make you cum quickly.

You bent down as it's tentacles fucked and rubbed you at a maddening pace. You kissed the monster deep as you rubbed off 2 tentacles with your hands. It's tongue explored your mouth. You pushed and thrusted back on the tentacles. You moaned out, "oh. Don't stop! Don't you fucking dear stop!" As you rubbed the monster you found a hole that caused it to moan out load.

"what's this? Is this dirty little hole your mating hole?" The monster nodded. You take a dildo and rub the tip at is hole, "should I fill you up since you are filling me up?" The monster nodded hard as it moaned out, "please fill my hole! I have never felt full before! Please fill me up!" As you entered the monster with the dildo, the tentacles began cumming and didn't stop until it was fully seated. All of it's cum filled you up and caused you to cum on it.

You slowly pulled out the dildo. The monster twitches as it finally exited. It withdrew from you as well, causing you to moan out as you felt it's cum to leak from you. You untied the monster and you both huffed on the bed.

After a moment, a tentacle began tracing lines along your hips, "can we do it again? I want to feel full again. I have never felt that before. Please?" Now you have a tentacle monster at your mercy. Now it's your slut.

#monster fucker #monster smut #bottom monster #domming monsters #topping monsters

[mushies-stories]

came to claim you

Incubus Aki X Reader

SMUT

Warnings: pure smut, cum, fingering, PinV, pet names, female reader

authors note: yeah five days ago i said i didn't write smut. well, here we are.

Word count: 2251

smut bellow

Every Night, he visited you. At first it was just in your dreams. Touching you, sliding his long fingers through your folds. Biting and marking your neck as his cock is buried deep in your pussy. Then you started waking after those dreams to what could only be cum, and an abnormally large amount of it. Normally it was on your stomach dripping over your sides onto your sheets, but then it started being left right on the crotch of your panties and all between your legs. you would wake up to find cum and your legs sprawled open wide.

You didn't know what to do or who to tell, there was a beautiful man with a kind of dumb ponytail with a tail and tattoos along his arms and on his hips. That sounds like such a joke, A wild fantasy. So you just let it continue. What harm could come from it, right? It was just dreaming… mostly. 

If only you had known that the creature was just waiting, testing you. He was looking for his mate but needed to first make sure you were worthy. That you didn't scare easily. He decided to test the waters even more by coming to you before you fell asleep. He wanted to hear you really moan and whimper for him, beg for him to fuck you and he couldnt wait much longer.

So, once you were in bed and all tucked in he came. from the shadows he emerged above your bed, slowly lowering himself into the bed above you. When you noticed a shift in weight it was already too late. He had his hips between your legs and his arms surrounding your head. “Hell, I've waited a long time to finally meet you.” His voice was smooth and his red eyes practically glowed in the dark of the room.. 

You froze in place. He was real. Flesh in front of you and was keeping you trapped in place. “Who.. who are you? How did you even get in here?” you asked.

He gave you a soft smile. “You may call me Aki.” He tells you. His hand smooths back some of your hair and rests on your cheek. “And as for how I got here, you need not concern yourself over that.” you noticed the pointed tail that swayed behind him. 

You didn't know what to do, you were frozen in place under a half naked man. A half naked man whos been fucking you in your dreams and cumming all over you. “What are you?” you ask, squinting at him.

Leaning back on his heels Aki shows off the black heart tattoo that looked to be made of flames. It spread across his lower tummy and to his hips. It sat perfectly above the waistline of his pants. “I'm an incubus.” he stated planley. “I feel off the sexual desires of humans.” crawling back over you he cages you in with his hands next to your head, hips pressed to your core. “I use your desires to fuel your dreams and make you a sticky mess so I can feed on your delicious taste.” Aki smiles down at you sweetly. “And you my love, you have the best flavor i have ever encountered, so i'm making you mine.” he states before leaning down and capturing your lips in a heated kiss before he pulls away abruptly. 

Your lips tingle and heat spreads to your pussy. What did he just do to me, you thought. “What did you do?” you ask, hips wiggling a little. 

Aki laughed softly. “A little trick. How's about another demonstration?” he nuzzles into the side of your neck and inhales your scent. “So sweet.” he praises. Then he kisses the soft spot under your ear. You shudder under his touch and grip the sheets below you. 

You didn't want to give in but the way his tongue feels so hot on your skin like it's leaving a path of fire that simmers into desire. He trails his way up from your chest to your neck, sharp teeth biting your sweet spot and sucking harshly. He was marking you and it had you in a frenzy, your mind already beginning to lose its scene. “C’mon darling just give in, tell me i can touch you.” he crooned into your ear, hand traveling around your stomach gently. 

You shake your head after a moment, you could hardly think but you knew you couldn't give in this easily. Even if your skin was burning for touch and release, he must have done something to you, every mark he left tingled you to your core. Your panties were undoubtedly soaked and just feeling him hover between your legs makes you want to grind your hips up into his.

Not liking that answer he slid his hands to grip your hips and whispered, breath tickling your ear. “Dont you want to cum for me baby? Remember your dreams and how good I can make you feel? Yeah?” he kissed below your ear and you shuddered at the thought of all those dirty dreams. “Don't you want to be a good girl and cum on my cock?” he pulled back and looked you in the eyes, your face was red and your breathing uneven. One hand came to hold your jaw, thumb grazing over your bottom lip. “Let me kiss you?” he asks. You nod your head to say okay. “Words,” he commands. 

“Yes, please.” you breathe out. Unsure and wobbly. Then his lips were on yours and his tongue was devouring your mouth and every sound that came out of you as his hips jerked into yours harshly and stayed pressed close to you. Giving you no room to move anywhere but against his crotch. 

After a while of abusing your mouth and grinding into you ever so slowly he pulled away, leaving you breathless and bright red. He smirked and admired you, a true mate for him. “I want to touch you, can I touch your pretty pussy?” he asks again, now that lust is filling your pupils. 

You couldn't contain yourself anymore, you've had enough. You needed him, needed your pussy to be filled. “Yes.” you whimper. 

Aki smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Good girl.” he slides a hand down to rub your pussy through the cloth of your panties. “Such a good girl, so wet for me already.” he teases. You felt a little embarrassed that you reacted so easily to him. But right now you didnt care, you just wanted him to touch you. “Even though I've been cumming on you for the past two weeks, To claim you and all,” he added “You still wear almost nothing to bed, did you like my cum that much?” Aki continued his teasing as he pushed your panties aside and slid a finger into your hole, causing you to arch off the bed and let out a strangled moan. “Tell me sweet girl, did you like my cum between your legs?” he asked again as he added another finger and rocked them in you slowly, his thumb teased your clit. 

You nodded your head eagerly. “Yes! Yes I loved it!” you admit. Aki smirked down at you and watched your face contort into pure pleasure as he picked up his pace and curled his long digits into your sweet spot repeatedly. It didn't take long for you to have finally had enough. you needed him, needed to feel something inside your pussy. You let out a pleading mess of words. “Please, I need to feel you! Ah- please fuck me Aki!” your eyes were shut tight and tears pricked the corners. 

At this Aki looked at you with hunger in his eyes. You finally snapped. “Yeah?” he curled his fingers again before slowing down and adding a third finger, stretching you even more. “Are you sure you can take it?” 

You let out a frustrated moan. “Fuck me please, fill me with your cock i need it!” a tear escapes and rolls down your cheek to where his hand rests. 

Letting out a low chuckle Aki pulled his fingers from your cunt, your juices covered his hand. Undoing his pants and letting his cock spring free you couldn't help the lump that formed in your throat. He was big, Not too slim or thick but long. He was going to ruin your pussy and you knew it was already too late for you. You needed him to ruin you. Your entire body was tingling at the sight of his cock, glistening with precum. He glided his cock through your folds and teased you, he loved to see you get so frustrated, your cunt was ready and dripping for him. “Please, put it in.” you begged, spreading your legs wider and holding the pillow behind you. 

His cock twitched at your pathetic state. He lined himself with your entrance then pushed the head of his cock in. You were so tight he let out a shaky breath as he slowly sunk into you. half way he stopped and watched your chest rise and fall rapidly as you adjusted to his size. “You're doing so well for me, such a good girl.” he crooned. Leaning down he pressed a kiss to your forehead and smoothed your hair back gently. “Now be good and take the rest of me.” you already felt so full, so stretched and sensitive you didn't know how much more you could take. Before you could let out a word of protest you were cut off by Aki forcing his tongue into your mouth and Aki was sinking the rest of himself into you. 

All noises of pleasure were muffled by the sounds of tongues and heavy breathing. A string of saliva trailed from Aki to you as he pulled back enough to look you in the eyes. You could hardly keep your eyes open and you couldn't stop whimpering. Without pulling out more than a couple inches Aki rocked his hips into you at a slow tender pace.  “Baby do you feel my cock?  I'm giving you all of it and your pussy is fluttering around me, you're sucking me in, so tight and good for me.” leaning his head down, Aki kisses the side of your neck before biting and sucking the same spot.

You were only getting wetter and needier, his cock was so big and it hit so deep you just needed more, more movement and faster. “More- Aki more please!” you couldn't help but beg by now. It was his plan after all. With teeth grazing your nack and a firm hand on your hip Aki began to fuck into you at a relentless pace. “Oh- fuck! Yes please! Fuc- so big!” you were arching into his thrust and your head was thrown back. Aki was so deep, claiming your pussy with every pound of his hips and it was pushing you over the edge. 

“Need to cum baby?” Aki spoke into your ear and nipped at it. “Your pretty little pussy is sucking my in.” you could no longer form words, only being able to moan and plead with your eyes. “How about I fill you with my cum?” He didn't wait for an answer this time. Instead he went on fucking you, getting harder and brought his hand down to your clit. “I’ll fuck my cum into you. Fill you up baby.” he spoke between groans and heavy panting.

You felt your walls clench as your pussy spasmed around Aki’s cock. “Cum- cumming! I'm cummin!” you whaled out, tears streaming down your face. You felt liquid pour out of you and left your bottom half feeling wet and warm. 

Aki trusted hard a few more times before you felt his hot cum shoot deep into your pussy, coating your insides.”fuck- ah fuck baby- such a good girl for me, taking all my cum.” His hips slowed as he rocked you both through the last of your highs. You could feel Akis' breath in the crook of your neck where he leaned into you. 

You two stayed like that for a while, him allowing you to catch your breath and regain composure. With his cock still fully stuffed in your pussy of course. He didn't want to pull out, you felt too good and his cum would come spilling out. He wanted to keep it inside of you as long as possible. Keep you full and warm with him. 

Finally he felt his cock soften and he slowly started to pull back, causing more whimpers from you. “Please Aki, don't.” he stopped with his cock halfway out. Your juices and his cum leaking out around the base onto the bed sheets. “What? You want me to keep my dick in you even if I'm not hard?” he teased with a small smirk. 

You looked to the side embarrassed. “Well.. no but.” you sighed. “Maybe.” is all you give him. You felt Akis cock twitch inside of you and then he slid back in with a groan. You sigh in content as he bottoms out. 

His cock was started to get hard again, you could feel it and it made your pussy throb again with desire. You and Aki shared a lustful smile before your tongues met and his hip began pounding into you once again. 

His mate he said. Yeah, that would be fine.

#aki hayakawa #aki x reader #aki hayawaka smut #chainsaw man #chainsawman x reader #chainsaw man smut #csm #aki x reader smut #incubus

[seeyoulbleed]

The tengu madara you wrote with a breeding kink

bestie....please...

can you imagine....

(sedate me)

madara uchiha x afab!reader

tw: nsfw, talk about children

He doesn't touch you until the wedding night.

He wants to do this right, he's a traditionalist at heart with some things, and he just wants the ending he was promised as a child. Madara grew up hearing about how to teach a mate in the Uchiha clan and it's just One of Those Things that he waits to bed his spouse for the wedding night.

But it's in the air. It's tenser when you two are together, closer and closer to the wedding date. Madara is a stoic man but he's never been tense per se. Languid movements are what you'd attribute to him, this is a man who moves like breathing is easy, and yet...

And yet every muscle coils tighter and tighter the closer your wedding day comes. You think he's getting cold feet. Your heart plummets and you wonder if he's rethinking this entire thing.

That's proven wrong when he not only goes through with the wedding but pulls you away from the reception early. He's clawing at your clothes, peeling them off before you can even make it to your new shared room, his mouth on yours. Devouring.

The second you're naked beneath him, he's slower. Intent. His red eyes on your writhing body, never missing a single thing. Madara unravels you bit by bit, greedily sucking at every release you give him like a man starved. His hands never leave you, his hands always gripping or caressing, his chest heaving like he's in the middle of battle.

Sweat drips down his skin and his wings are curled around you till all you can see is him. Him, him, him. You, you, you. He's not even in you yet and you still feel like you're one and the same. You both are one mass of fevered desire, and you'd crawl into each other's skin if you could.

When he finally sinks into you, he's shushing you. Calming you. Madara traces a path up your throat with his tongue, nipping at your pulse. "Shh, shh. That's it. Relax. Let me in."

He gives you time to adjust. Your husband is a Tengu, a creature of might- everything about him is impressive and this is no exception. Rubbing slow circles on your clit, Madara takes in your panting face.

"You fit me so well. You were made for me," He murmurs, a bit in awe as he starts to move his hips dizzyingly slow.

"Please," You gasp, clawing at his back. Every slow drag of his cock in you is torture. "Madara, please. I need more."

"So eager..." He punctuates his words with a snap of his hips. His eyes gleam crimson with whatever he's thinking, a small smile crawling to his face. "Very well. I'll fuck you full of my child. Would you like that? To grow big with our baby?"

He leans in close, lips against yours as his pace becomes brutal. "Then you'll take everything I give you and you won't waste a single drop."

#killing meeeeeeee #red writes #asks #madara uchiha x reader #madara uchiha

[scribespirare]

i’ve been thinking about miguel being a cat. like a mama cat whose kittens got taken from him but is left out on the streets. idk why but it fits him so much. and miles as the guy that’s kind enough to take a stray cat in

So idk if this is how you meant for this request to go but 👀 I am a slut for were creatures

Miguel has lived on the streets for a while now. It’s not exactly through choice but it’s not not through choice either.

He could shift. He could go back to being human. Find a job. Rent an apartment. Settle.

But he doesn’t.

Life is simpler when he’s a cat. Yeah he eats things his human side balks at, sleeps places no human would ever touch, smells like something the crawled out of the sewer. But there’s nothing to be anxious about in the day to day except survival. And seeing how Miguel is smarter than your average alley cat, that’s not much to be anxious about at all.

New York maybe isn’t the best place to be a stray cat, but it’s not the worst either. Lots of rats to catch and garbage to pick through for food. Sometimes people even leave kibble out for cats like him, which is why Miguel doesn’t think anything of climbing up a fire escape one night, following the scent of dry food. He finds it outside a window looking into the messy room of a teenage boy.

And that’s how it all starts.

Miguel feels a draw to Miles that he can’t explain. At first he thinks it’s the kid’s youth, that Miles reminds Miguel of the child he lost and the life he used to live.

Then he gets a good hit of the kid’s scent and…well. He’s certainly not comparing Miguel to his daughter anymore after that. Miles smells like warmth and home and spice and sex.

So yeah. Not a child surrogate.

Miles has friends that come over that Miguel feels a little more paternal towards though. Hobie and Ganke and Pavitr and Gwen. None of them smell like sex to Miguel, which is quite frankly something of a relief. They’re rowdy teenagers that Miguel wants to cuff around the ears and then feed.

But Miles? Well, the less said about what Miguel wants to do to Miles the better.

So Miguel keeps coming back to that window over and over again, keeps sitting on the fire escape and listening to Miles’ life play out. Even when Miles doesn’t put food out, Miguel is still there. Occasionally Miles even notices him, says a few words, asks him how’s he doing. He doesn’t name Miguel, which is nice, just calls him ‘That brown tabby tom. You know, the one with the big jowls? The one who looks like he’s listening and understanding me. Yeah, with the freaky red eyes, that one’. And Miguel enjoys these little interactions. He figures they’re all he’s going to get, and he’s fairly content with that.

Then one night he jumps up on the window ledge and yeah okay he’s dripping a bit since he’d managed to get himself caught in the spray from a car going by and it’s raining and thundering and isn’t going to be letting up anytime soon, but he still insists that’s not a very good reason to open your window and snatch up a stray cat.

If Miguel were a normal stray, he’d hiss and claw and bite the shit out of Miles. And quite frankly Miguel has to fight the instinct to do just that. Luckily Miles drops him pretty quickly, apologizing the entire time.

“I just can’t let you stay out there in that tonight, okay?” he says.

You’re an idiot, Miguel thinks.

“I’ll let you out again in the morning and you…try not to fuck up my room too much. Deal?”

Miguel doesn’t deign that with a response and instead focuses on trying to groom some of the muck and water out of his fur since he’s apparently staying the night.

Stupid fucking kid. Doesn’t he know he can catch disease from the claws and teeth of a cat?

Miles goes about his evening of doing homework and fucking around on his phone, feeds Miguel some dry kibble, then strips down and goes to bed. And Miguel…well, he’s only a man. Sometimes. Not any time recently, but still. He figures, well he’s not going to get this chance again. Miles is a good kid even if he is a bit naive and Miguel likes him a lot. He shouldn’t be rewarding Miles for letting dangerous, disease ridden alley cats into his bedroom but…Miguel still jumps up onto the bed anyways.

Miles starts then laughs. “Sorry, you scared me. Never had a pet before. Didn’t take you as the cuddling type either.”

Once upon a time Miguel very much was the cuddling type. But now he just takes the unused pillow next to Miles’ head and curls up there, relishing in the softness and the way Miles’ scent rises up around him. The rain is still coming down in buckets outside but for tonight Miguel is warm and safe and Miles is scratching him behind the ears before whispering good night.

This is in direct contrast to the way he yells, “What the fuck!?” as he’s falling out of bed the next morning.

Miguel sits up, alarmed, looking around for danger. Then he realizes that something doesn’t feel right. His senses are off, as is his equilibrium, and his vantage point is a hell of a lot higher than it was the night before. With a sinking stomach he glances down at himself and. Yep. Naked man.

Naked man in the bed of a terrified teenager staring up at him with wide eyes from the bedroom floor.

Miguel clears his throat awkwardly, rusty after so many years of disuse. He can’t remember the last time he’d taken this form.

Then he decides fuck it because there’s nothing he can say to make this situation better, actually. So he climbs out of the bed, throws open the window, and is shifted back into his cat form before his paws hit the fire escape.

He hears movement behind him, hears Miles yell, “Wait!” but Miguel is already gone.

#asks #requests #flowerfang

[quickiesgirl]

Hi there! If you’re not taking requests that’s fine this is just a cute idea I had

I’m not thin/skinny I’m more curvy and I get insecure about that. My boyfriend is so sweet about that and always reassures me I’m beautiful and that my belly is “his” lol

So what if Peter was dating the reader, and he/she/they are just insecure about they’re body shape? Curvy, thin, whatever?

He would constantly just give them kisses on their head and face while holding them saying how beautiful they are, and take them out and encourage them to wear outfits they want to wear and not necessarily what they are supposed to wear and-

we support peter maximoff being supportive 🥺🥹

I’m so glad you requested this. I struggle with body insecurity too, and I’ve been wanting to write something on the topic that's involving Peter, and how kind and comforting he’d be to Reader. I hope you like this as much as I do!

Peter Maximoff Comforting Insecure Curvy!Reader HC

Peter really is the most supportive boyfriend anyone could ever ask for, <3

He is always encouraging you to show your beauty to the world and would never urge you to change anything about yourself.

Whenever you're feeling insecure, he's always there to make you feel special.

Peter crawls up between your thighs and gives you little tummy kisses, whispering kind words about how perfect you are as he does.

“You're the most beautiful, *kiss* perfect *kiss* creature this world has ever seen, *kiss* and if there's people out there who can’t see that, then it's their loss.”

Peter loves your curves and squishiness and finds it so fucking attractive, but every time he sees you feeling insecure about them, it kills him inside.

He’ll notice you on the other side of the room, self-consciously covering your stomach as you stare back at the reflection of the dress you picked out for tonight's dinner party. 

Peter slowly comes up from behind and tenderly wraps his arms around you, placing little kisses down your neck and shoulders, “Mmh- fuck, babe, you look so fucking hot!" 

"How am I supposed to focus tonight with you wearing that sexy dress?”

A smile forms across your face as you uncontrollably blush and playfully roll your eyes at him. 

But, when Peter finds you alone in your room, curled up in an oversized sweater and some baggy clothes, hiding away from the world. 

He holds you in his arms as you bury your face in his inner neck and explain to him how your feeling.

He gives you little comforting forehead kisses and runs his fingers through your hair as he sits there and listens.

After you’ve let it all out. Peter makes sure to express how fucking stunning you are and tells you your self-worth.

“Your body is gorgeous, babe, and there is no reason to feel ashamed or insecure about it. ”

He tells you, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of his shirt.

And after, if you just want to spend the day in bed and cuddle, he’ll speed away and run back with a little homemade gift basket full of your favorite comfort foods, some of your favorite movies, and some fluffy blankets to lift your spirits.

Peter is the person in your life that makes you shine. He makes you feel so beautiful and gives you the confidence to embrace yourself.

And he loves you no matter what. <3

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff headcanons #peter maximoff x fem!reader #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff xmen #quicksilver #quicksilver headcanon #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver xmen #xmen #evan peters #requested #quickiesgirl writing

[emiewritesthings]

spiderman ☆ jay halstead

summary: in which y/n has a fear of spiders and jay is always her first call 

warnings: language, violence against spiders (rip lol)

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Y/n chanted to herself as the phone against her ear rang in search of a connection to the other line. Admittedly, her hands were shaking and each breath felt like a million tiny daggers poking in her lungs, as her eyes stared at the closed bathroom door.

“Y/n?” Jay’s voice finally shot through the ringing in her ears, and a relief filled sigh left her lips. Her want to jump for joy was ignored as she remembered that she was not on the floor right now, and in grave danger of injuring herself if she lost her balance. “What happened to ‘I’m never talking to you again, Jay Halstead’?” The man’s smirk was audible to the woman that couldn’t see his smug face, and as much as she wanted to check him for it, she also wanted his help and therefore needed to appease him with some kindness.

The words he’d reference had been spoken a couple days prior when the younger woman had a few too many and upon walking her home, Jay had refused her the opportunity to get a kebab. Although Y/n’s memory was a little pathy due to being the tester of Molly’s new cocktail menu, she did remember violently crying and declaring her hatred for the man that was keeping her drunk self away from her one true love.

“Ah, well, that was before satan decided to crawl into my fucking house.” She screeched as she thought about the beast she had encountered just moments before she’d ran into the bathroom following the release of a hearty scream. She had half expected her neighbours to come check if she was okay, or even ring the police considering the noise that echoed around her small apartment. But any such action was yet to be taken, as far as Y/n was aware.

“Satan, huh?” Jay looked over at Hailey who was driving silently, only being able to hear Jay’s side of the conversation, much to her dismay. The blonde didn’t fully understand the male detective’s knowing look, not having half the relationship Jay shared with the firefighter, but knew that the ‘satan’ in question wasn’t the red horned pitchfork sporting kind.

“Don’t fuck with me right now, Halstead. I am still recovering from witnessing it scuttle under my sofa.” She breathed out a rugged breath, wiping the back of her hand against her forehead where beads of fear spawned on her skin. Jay had to hold back his laughter, knowing that the woman on the other end of the line would undoubtedly get annoyed and hang up.

“So this Satan in question,” Jay swallowed his smile as he turned on the speaker, allowing Hailey a front row seat to the ever humorous Y/n y/l/n show. “Is it spider?” Snapping her head off the road for a second, Hailey mouthed ‘seriously?’ silently, cracking up so bad that Jay had to mute the call for a moment to stop her struggles to contain said amusement from floating down into Y/n’s ears.

“A spider the size of godzilla!” Y/n bit back, already not liking that Jay wasn’t taking her very real problem unseriously. Just at the mention of the culprit had her underarms sweating and a shiver slicing its way down her spine. The flashback made her try to take a step back, which in her current circumstance had her letting a string of curse words flow off her tongue as she grabbed onto the wall, preventing her fall. Hearing the commotion, Jay unmuted the call.

“Where are you right now?” Jay asked, knowing that from the way her voice sounded she certainly wasn’t lulling on her couch or even lounging on her bed. No, she sounded… echoey?

“Hiding in the bathroom, where else would I be?” She shrugged off the question in a whisper, as if the sound of the voice may lure the creature towards her safe haven and attack her. Which to a rational person was ridiculous, but to Y/n a growing fear. “I’m standing on the edge of the bath, just in case it gets under the door, you know?” Jay didn’t know, but imagining the beautiful young woman balancing up high scouring any slight movement lightened his mood considerably.

“How are you trusted to fight fires if you are scared of a mesley spider?” Jay snorted, knowing the horror stories of the disasters Y/n had quite literally ran into as part of her profession, and yet the thought of being face to face with a harmless eight legged insect kicked in her flight instinct?

“I do not need your sass right now, Jay. I need you to bring your gun.” She insisted with a stern tone, which soon softened upon requesting his services. “You think you could come get it for me?” She pleaded and Jay instantly could imagine her eyes large and doe like, a look that resembled the call of a siren, only at least the latter led a sailor to death, the former on the other hand just tortured him every living moment. Letting out a sigh in thought - though both of them knew ther

“If I show up and it’s just a bit of fluff again-.” Jay started, reminding them both of the time that the woman had called for help in the early hours of the morning, for the man to drive thirty minutes to find it was indeed just a black piece of fluff from her sock. Y/n cringed at the memory and the embarrassment she had felt towards the man that - at the time - she hadn’t known that long.

“You won’t, I promise.” The man knew she was crossing her heart - even if he couldn’t see it. Looking towards Hailey who just nodded, confirming she was fine making a diversion, Jay agreed reluctantly.

“I won’t be there for another twenty minutes.” Y/n let out a squeal of joy at her knight in shining armour, her arms wanting to wrap around his body and squeeze him had he been there and not somewhere else in the city. The sounds were infectious, both detectives sat in the moving black truck unable to stop their lips tipping at the sweet sounds,

“You are the best, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Saying their goodbyes and once again ensuring that he wouldn’t be long, Jay hung up the phone and relaxed into his seat. However, he was forced to take a break when he felt Hailey glancing between him and the road. Frowning, he met her gaze and instantly groaned at the look that rested there.

“Don’t you dare.” Hailey shook her head with a wide grin, as Jay turned to look out the window - internally grateful for the spider in Y/n’s apartment that had given him the perfect excuse to see her.

–

“Y/n?” Jay called from the doorway once the key - which Y/n had gifted to him once when he was plant sitting and never asked for back - had unlocked her front door. Jay’s eyes widened at the mess her living room was in, the coffee table flipped and the sofa on its side, signally Y/n’s messy escape.

Shaking his head in amusement, he stepped over a stray pillow, and headed straight towards the closed bathroom door. Approaching, he could hear her humming to herself, clearly having become seriously bored and in desperate need of some form of entertainment.

Bringing his fist up to the white chipping paint that coated the wood, he let his knuckles rasp against it a couple times, observing as the noise stopped and an ominous silence followed.

“Who is it?”

“It’s the spider coming to kill you, thought I’d knock to be polite,” Y/n rolled her eyes immediately, instantly moving to unlock the door and pull it open just a crack for her left eye to peer through.

“Real funny.” She scoffed, though internally she was glowing at her rescuer finally arriving to get her out of the miniature bathroom that definitely was running out of oxygen. Moving closer and leaning down so he was closer to the eye staring at him, Jay just grinned.

“Almost as funny as you locking the door to keep a spider out.” Staring at one another - well sort of - for a moment, Y/n wanted to argue her reasoning and maybe if she had one she would have, but alas she let it go. Grumbling to herself, she dropped the matter and moved on to the more pressing one.

“Did you get it yet? Did you kill it?” She begged, voice wavering to a point that Jay began feeling sorry for her. Sure, the whole Y/n and her eight legged kryptonite had been a running joke for many years - and a very funny one at that - he had become increasingly aware that for her there was no humour in the matter. It was a fear, a phobia, something that made her blood run cold and skin sweat. The feeling of being in danger was one like no other, and Jay would never ever wish that upon anyone especially not a woman like Y/n Y/l/n.

“Not yet,” Her sigh was deep, going to say something but Jay continued. “Thought it would be good for you to help me get rid of it. Exposure therapy or whatever.” The suggestion - to Y/n - was absurd. Instantly she had disappeared from the small space between the doorframe and the door itself as she backed up into the bathroom repeating ‘no, no, no, no’ over and over. Jay recognised the panic in her voice and began to think suggesting the idea was a mistake.

“I can’t, I just-” Y/n shivered. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Jay assured shortly, wanting to compel through his words that he had all the faith in the world in her. Sure, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that she always turned to him when one of the bastards was causing havoc around her place. He liked that she saw him as the saviour, as the one person that she could turn to and trust even on a matter such as spider catching. It made his insides glow, a sensation he’d become addicted to, but equally seeing her not almost fall deep into a pit of anxiety at the mere mention of a spider served him much better. “And you will.”

There was silence that followed. Jay didn’t think he could take any more of the guessing, as he pushed the door open further so - for the first time since his arrival - he got a good look at the woman. She was conflicted, that was the first thing he noted. Y/n Y/l/n was all around a confident woman, someone that carried themselves with an aura that made others see them as untouchable. But like anyone else she was still very much human, a being with feelings that for Jay were open to read any time of the day.

Not saying a word, the two exited the bathroom and suddenly the hunt had begun. Y/n grabbed a pillow that Jay had earlier hopped over, and held it protectively in the air, as she glued herself to Jay’s side. Her eyes darted back and forth, back and forth in search of the critter that had to be somewhere in this hell hole.

“Here, spidey spidey.” Jay called with a wide grin, a result of the contact of Y/n’s hand wrapped around his bicep and the humour of the tense environment that had formed. Sending him a quick glare, Y/n’s grip didn’t budge as the two finally approached the last place she had seen their target. Walking around the tipped couch, Jay kicked around a couple pillows and the splayed out throw, but still there was nothing. “Maybe it’s gone.” Jay’s optimism was a rare sight, but it was soon forgotten as Y/n let out a deathly scream.

“Holy fuck!” Releasing Jay, the pillow in her hand smacked down on the floor again and again and again, all whilst a scream of fear vibrated through her mouth. “Not today satan.” Lifting the pillow she clearly wasn’t satisfied by the dead still black dot that was smudged against the pink case of the pillow that she abandoned on the floor the moment she spotted. For soon her foot cast down against it one, two, three times.

With her hair having fallen out of the loose band that had tied it back and into her line of view from the violent act she just commited, the sigh of relief that she released blew the strands around. It took a few more seconds to realise what she had done, before she was suddenly turning towards the frozen in shock man.

Without warning, Y/n jumped into Jay’s arms, a squeal of excitement emitting from her chest as her arms squeezed around him tightly. The man was so confused as to what he had just witnessed that his hands barely moved to support her.

“I did it. Holy fuck, I did it!” Y/n wasn’t sure what made her do it. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the possible carbon dioxide poisoning from being trapped in the bathroom or maybe just the surfacing of years of repressed emotion, but her head was soon leaning forward and pressing a kiss firmly against the lips of Jay Halstead.

If he had been distracted before, he certainly wasn’t now. Jay’s attention was vacuumed up by the feeling of the soft lips that currently caressed his own. Her hand was behind his hair, gently strumming the hairs on the back of his neck with her fingers softly, gently, enticingly. Just as he felt he finally became conscious in his body again, Y/n had dislodged herself from the kiss and was staring at Jay in awe of her own actions.

“Oh- shit.” Awe soon turned to panic, as her mind caught up with her body and she thought over what she had just done. Her eyes blew up with uncertainty, desperately searching Jay’s that seemed to be untelling for once in their friendship. “Shit, Jay I’m so-.” But she didn’t get a time to apologise, before Jay was bringing her back and reuniting their lips and their feelings once more. The second time around the kiss was harder, more passionate as if both of them needed to prove to the other that the first was no mistake.

Pulling back, their foreheads were softly pressed upon the other’s, identical smiles on both their faces.

“Thank god.” Both of their smiles flipped, as the new voice was thrown into the touching moment breaking the thick adoring tension that surrounded them in their own little bubble. Not letting go of the woman that was pressed against his body, Jay turned both of them to look to the now open front door where the male detective’s blond partner now stood. “Could you two not have done this 30 spiders ago?” Shaking her head in amusement, Hailey let herself in and looked around with horror. “The spider really was godzilla, huh?”

#Jay #jay halstead #jayhalstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #Halstead #CPD #chicago #chicago police #Chicago Fire #hailey #haileyupton #hailey upton #oneshot #One Chicago #chicago one #onechicago

[boysbellyrubs]

How about Caine's sick and really burpy. He's burping constantly and the burps are helping hi m feel a bit better. But one burp brings up a wave of vomit. You can choose the caretaker.

another request, so I think I'm just gonna open them. I'm still busy tho so if they take ages to come out that's why :(. anyway, sorry for the wait on this one anon, but I hope you enjoy.

Sorry it's a bit short too, I hope it still meets your standards :)

---

This was hell. God was giving him the free trial of Hell, Caine mused, as he was stuck in his bed with a brutal case of food poisoning. Earlier, he had decided to go to a cafe, to treat himself for breakfast when things took a turn for the worse. A few hours later, his stomach was cramping and bubbling and he felt like he was melting under the sun’s gaze. Thankfully, Lincoln had been with him to take him home. 

He was never going to eat chicken and brie toasties again. He groaned as another cramp twisted his insides. His belly was bloated like no other, and he was too dizzy to stand so he couldn’t even go to the bathroom without Lincoln guiding him like he was 80. 

“Please kill me, Link. I can’t do this.” He moaned. 

Lincoln looked up from his phone, “No can do, I can’t pay rent myself. And, you’ll be fine, this'll be over by tomorrow.” 

“How do you know? What if it lasts a week?” He shouted. 

Lincoln came to the side of the bed, “Well lucky you have me here to look after you. How are you feeling actually?” 

Caine opened his eyes and the room spun. Groaning, “Terrible. The room is spinning and my stomach feels like there’s a bubble machine in there.” 

“Hm. Do you want some stomach medicine?” He paused, frowning, “I don’t think we have any actually, I’ll probably have to go buy some.” 

Caine weighed up his options. He didn’t feel like he was gonna puke, but he didn’t want to risk putting anything in his stomach. But, he felt like there was a creature trying to crawl out of him, so maybe some medicine would help with the pain. He could deal with being alone for a few minutes. 

“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” 

Caine felt Lincoln’s smile, and then a hand pushed away his sweaty bangs, “I’ll be right back.” 

Now that Lincoln had left, Caine allowed himself to make a lot more noise. He whined, and tossed around in his bed, moaning to no one and mumbling to himself. He hated this. With one twist of his body, he felt a bubble gurgle up his throat and he burped, dry and small. It sort of helped. 

He frowned, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling. He tried to rub his stomach to force a burp up, but it didn’t do much. So he pushed harder and another gurgle ripped upwards and out his mouth. He sighed, that one felt even better. He continued, pushing on the tense parts of his belly and letting himself burp. His stomach got the memo and became more bubbly and loud, so the burps were easier to bring up. 

Caine felt some hope, maybe this would be gone by tomorrow. His stomach was just as bloated, but it was sloshing a bit with the undigested food. He burped more, groaning with relief. 

“Fuck, I’m so gross.” He mumbled. He stopped pushing, now only listening to the gurgles coming from his belly. Now without his hands, it felt like it was churning and digesting. 

Oh, but poor, sweet Caine was so wrong. 

The burps didn’t need to be forced up now, his belly doing all the work for him. As he lay there, each one became wetter and splashed small amounts of stomach acid into his mouth. Now he was beginning to panic, fuck he felt like he was going to vomit. 

He sat up, one hand rested precariously on his stomach. It sloshed and he groaned, he belched again as he got upright. He had fucked up now. The churning was an indicator of how upset his stomach was, and every burp kept sending up waves of bile. He gagged, stomach heaving inward. 

“Shit, god I’m gonna throw up.” 

The next burp gurgled up his throat, sounding like he was drowning and he slapped a hand over his mouth. His throat burned with the feeling of vomit. He groaned, and felt another burp crawl up his oesophagus. God, he felt sick. A loud gurgle filled the silence and he belched once more and he finally couldn’t hold it back anymore. 

Vomit sprayed from his lips, shooting through the gaps in his fingers and dribbling down his chin. And on to the bed. He groaned, out of frustration this time. Before he could think to move, another gag hit him and he moved his hand out of the way for the thick liquid to splatter onto the sheets, pooling in his lap. 

He barely had time to breathe when another burp burst from his lips and brought up more undigested toastie and coffee. His stomach was cramping so hard he had to fight from falling forward into the mess. A high pitched whine came from the depths of his belly and he coughed up a final lot of spew, spit dangling from his lips. 

“Oh, fuck. What happened?” 

Lincoln, of course, had come back with the medicine and was standing in his doorway with a bewildered expression on his face. 

“I fucked up.” Caine said, one hand hovering above the sheets dripping with vomit, and the other clutching at his gurgling belly. He didn’t even bother explaining, the puddle of his breakfast was enough of an explanation. 

#emeto #emetophilia #stomach ache #burping #food poisoning #Caine #Lincoln #bloating #gurgling

[webbywatcheshorror]

Webby Reviews Horror: Terrified/Atterados (2018)

I’ve seen this movie at least three times and each time it’s been fantastic. Terrified, also known as Atterados, is a Spanish-language movie about a neighborhood plagued by the supernatural; it is visited by three paranormal investigators hoping to learn more about these phenomena. It introduced me to a terrifying concept and doesn’t rely on cheap jumpscares or shock value to bring the fear. (Not to say there’s no jumpscares or shocking things, of course, but they’re well-done when used.) 

My long review/analysis/word vomit is under the cut. Spoilers ahead!

I’ve divided this movie into two halves and then smaller sections within those halves so it goes something like this:

1. The Hook  a. Juan  b. Walter  c. The Kid 

2. Reeling In  a. Investigation  b. Contact

So starting with The Hook, we are given three stories of the weird shit going on in the neighborhood with Juan as our focal point to begin with. Within the first few minutes we get an incredible shot of something in the sink drain breathing, and inaudible whispers, as Juan’s wife is doing the dishes. When he gets home, and she tells him what she heard, he dismisses her experience, but we do get a mention of another weird occurrence- a dog that had been run over is running around, totally fine. This could just be that the dog pulled through, but with what happens later, I’m inclined to believe that’s not the case. It’s subtle on first watch, but on a rewatch it caught my attention- I’m a sucker for subtle details that hint at later horrors. 

The first big scare comes without much warning- Juan, hearing banging, goes into the bathroom to see the brutal murder of his wife- an unseen force is slamming her against the walls of the shower which are already painted in her blood. It really sets the tone for the rest of the movie- Juan is helpless, forced to watch as something tosses his wife so hard against the walls you can hear the sickening crunch of her skull with each pass.

Part b is about Walter, Juan’s neighbor. Walter’s sequence is the funniest, but also the most fucking terrifying of the three cases. Some time before Juan’s tragedy, Walter has been having trouble trying to sleep, due to something rearranging his furniture as he lies in bed. This includes the bed, which, to me, is where the comedy is: it gave me the impression of a ghost who hated how he redecorated the place and was making its displeasure known.

The comedy does not last long. There’s a particular shot that creeps me right the fuck out every time: Walter checks under his bed and he (and we) see nothing. The camera angle changes and, right beneath Walter, is a pale humanoid creature, legs bent at ENTIRELY the wrong angle, and it begins to unfold itself as we watch. Walter is completely unaware. We are treated to one or two more shots like this. The idea of a home invader, especially one you can’t seem to see, just makes me want to double check every door and window in my house. Not that it would help, as we will find out later.

Walter’s tale is also tragic. He tries to get help, but the one specialist he’s told that can help, can’t take on his case, as she needs proof. He sets up a camera to try to capture something he can send to her so he can finally get some god damn sleep. 

This entire scene fills me with dread- he is awoken by banging, and finds his camera on the ground, knocked over by something. His furniture is, of course, all clumped together again. He reviews the footage and finds, to his (and my) absolute horror, a tall, thin, pale, nude humanoid intruder has been standing beside his bed, staring down at him, before slinking away to hide in the wardrobe. That he is, currently, kneeling beside. He confronts the wardrobe which is devoid of intruders, so he rewinds the footage more to find that the creature had crawled out from beneath his bed before towering over him. 

It makes me incredibly glad my bedframe is on the ground. 

The third case is the most devastating. Some time before Walter’s demise, he warns a little boy to stop drinking from the tap outside Walter’s house, to leave. The Boy, whose name I never caught, backs away from the house slowly, until he reaches the street. He is immediately hit by a bus, and hopefully, dies on impact. I’m guessing it wasn’t just the moving furniture keeping Walter up at night.

Four days after his funeral, The Boy is sitting in his mother’s kitchen, still very much a corpse. Sheriff Funes calls in his old friend Doctor Jano to help him figure out what the fuck is going on. Apparently Jano is no stranger to reanimated corpses. They determine that his mother Alicia didn’t dig him up in her grief, so they return him to his grave and add a nice new concrete lid so he stays put.

Funes is an interesting character, especially for being a cop. He’s willing to keep an open mind regarding possible paranormal explanations, and later we see that despite his health condition and his absolute terror, he is a brave man, and willing to do what needs to be done. He feels like a real person, which can sometimes be hard to find in the horror genre (or movies in general I guess lol)

During his short investigation of The Boy, Jano finds a peer of his across the street at Walter’s house, Doctor Allbreck. When you have two separate paranormal investigators in the same place at the same time for different cases, it’s probably a good idea to team up. They, and another investigator, obtain permission to each stay at one of the affected houses for a few days; Juan’s, Walter’s, and The Boy’s.

Thus begins the second half, Reeling In. The movie really ramps up in the second half, introducing one of the most terrifying concepts to me personally. The three doctors split off and begin the short Investigation section of the movie. I’d like to note that the three investigators are people that I kind of wanted to see succeed. They’re smart, professional, courteous, and brave, though perhaps a little TOO brave. I’d love to know what all their equipment does, too.

After some mishaps and readings with various methods from each investigator, we are told that there are separate universe that sort of overlap, but unless you have the right point of view, you can’t see it. You can’t hear it. From the wrong angle, it doesn’t even exist to you, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

This is demonstrated by Funes looking under the bed, first from one side, which shows it as empty, then being an absolute clown car of a space when viewed from the end of the bed. I mean that bitch is either packed with weirdos OR one really, really long, folded up weirdo. Another example comes in the form of Jano being able to see a man in the window of Walter’s house from across the street- but only when he stands in the right spot. He goes back and forth multiple times, resulting in one of the few but GOOD jumpscares as the figure appears directly in front of Janos’ window during the next pass. This starts the final section, Contact.

Each house’s monster makes itself known, drawing the researchers deeper into the dark, until it’s too late for them to realize they’re, metaphorically, already in the fisher’s net. More good scares in this sequence, including a really good one of a huge gnarled hand coming out of a crack in the wall to grab Allbreck by the head and snap her neck just after she explains to Funes that the creatures can enter our world as microscopic entities living in water, and they can take over our bodies this way. (On my second watch, I did in fact note that each victim had some kind of contact with the tap water before disaster struck.)

Funes, bless his weak heart, keeps trying to do the smart thing and get the hell out of the Hell House district, but he keeps going back inside to try to help the researchers. There’s a really good and tense scene where he’s having a heart attack, and behind him in the blurry background, you see a Creature approaching. 

One of my favorite moments is when Funes finally makes it to his car, intending to leave, and the mutilated body of Allbreck shuffles quickly from the front door and slams against his window, her neck twisted and stretched so far that her head hangs upside down looking like the world’s worst candycane. I believe the movie Smile makes an homage to this moment, or at least, it’s an incredibly similar scene.

Funes, being the smartest character, decides that arson is the only way to be sure, as he doesn’t have access to nukes from orbit. There’s an INCREDIBLY good moment where he’s trying to light the match, but it keeps going out. The angle changes and we see Jano, eyes full of glass shards and blood, blowing out the next match. 

The final scene is set a year later, and Juan, still in custody (poor guy), is talking to a set of investigators and a local cop. We learn the fates of those we’ve just spent an hour and twenty minutes following- Funes is missing, and the others are dead. After some questioning, Juan points to an empty corner and asks if ‘he’ came with them- he identifies him as Rosentok, one of the researchers, only his face is horribly burnt. The others can’t see him, but Juan insists. He came in with them. 

It raises the question, if there are converging, coexisting universes, how could you ever possibly know you were safe? What if you just haven’t found the right point of view? What if there’s something lurking just over your shoulder, face inches from your cheek, filthy clawed hands reaching to seize you, and unless you find the right spot, you’ll never even know.

If the idea of something only being detectable to you if you’re in just the right angle isn’t terrifying to you, then I don’t believe you and you’re lying. (Just kidding. I admire your ability to not let it stop you from walking around your house in the dark.) For me this is one of the worst scenarios imaginable, right up there with ‘monster is only visible in the shadows’ and ‘you can’t trust literally any of your senses’.

I give this one a 10/10. 10 what? I dunno, ghosts or something. I didn’t think that far ahead. I have no complaints. Unique setting, great utilization of atmosphere and camera work to instill a sense of dread and paranoia, offers a refreshing change from your more typical protagonists, and sticks with you long after the movie ends. Is your closet really empty, or are you just looking at it wrong? 

#terrified #atterados #webbywatcheshorror #horror movies #movie review #body horror

[lordoftherazzles]

How about two of my faves?

Teacup-Ori and Vampire!AU Bilbo? 🤣

Oh my god thank you!! This was a lot of fun and very weird!! And the best part about it is that my word block decided not to be a bitch and let me whip this out really fast!!

Thank you, my friend. I hope this lives up to your expectations!!!

What character(s) from my different fics do you want to see interact?? Let me know and I’ll do a small thing!!

Dragonhearted Ori + Where The Shadows Lie Bilbo under the cut!

“I fucking hate him.”

This was the last time that Bilbo ever listened to Frerin on anything.

“Put on the pretty necklace, Bilbo, I’m sure Thorin will maul you afterward,” Bilbo griped low to himself as a low-hanging gem sat around his neck, jingling slightly against the chain that held it. “Bloody cursed thing.” It’s not that Bilbo wanted to gain Thorin’s attention, but going through a few old Durin belongings…well…it had been fun! And the pretty multicolored gem had caught Bilbo’s eye. There was a lesson to be learned here–vampires were awful creatures, most of them cursed by some tragic backstory, but Frerin was the worst of the worst.

Sometimes when Bilbo blinked, he could still hear his cackling in the background.

Bilbo had passed out upon putting on that dreadful charm and when his eyes adjusted to the darkness around him, at first he had thought it a simple dream. Something stupid from watching and reading too many fantasy pieces, but the longer he wandered in these vast dark halls of stone, the more real it became. For instance, he’d pricked the tip of his finger against some metal and that didn’t wake him up. It was felt, and it stung. Shouldn’t the vampires have come rushing like that Twilight movie? Papercuts and stuff.

Whatever.

“Mister Bilbo!” 

A soft, and somewhat familiar voice called, practically echoing through one of many halls that looked exactly the same as the last. It sounded a lot like Ori, which would be a rather pleasant sight considering he was one of few who didn’t grate against Bilbo’s skin like a bad rash.

“Mister Bilbo, there you are! His Majesty has been looking for you–”

Though as Bilbo looked for the source of that voice, his eyes drifted down so far that his glasses nearly slipped off the bridge of his nose. Bilbo’s lips pursed tightly, keeping some sort of loud exclamation sealed away behind them as he stared towards a teacup that looked…like it had some Ori features to it. Was it a complaint or a laugh wanting to crawl up his throat right now? This was starting to look like some straight-up Disney bullshit. Maybe it WAS a dream? Pricked fingers could be explained later, he supposed.

“You look different,” Ori observed with a cautious tone. “What happened to your ears?”

“My ears?! What happened to you!?” He finally squealed, pointing an accusatory finger towards the teacup before crouching down for a better view–and carefully cupping his ears in the process. “My ears are fine…” Rounded off just like everyone else’s. “I’ve gotta be hallucinating…” Bilbo huffed to himself.

“Oh…did Bofur put those funny little herbs into Dori’s tea again? We’ve told him time and time to stop doing that! Even before the dragon’s enchantment took over, it would send our Elvish friends home in such a state of disarray–”

Bilbo’s face went blank with a hand shooting up to rub at his eyes. “What…what are you even talking about? Elves? A dragon’s curse?” No more fantasy novels or movies for a long time after this.

Ori simply stared at Bilbo with a small smile curving onto the porcelain that he was made of. For a teacup, he sure radiated patience at this very moment. “We ought to get you to bed, Thorin would be most displeased to see you in such a state…he’d probably throw Bofur into the fireplace! Follow me, please.”

Why Bilbo complied, he had no idea, but he also had no reason not to aside from the fact that this felt like a bad dream luring him into something worse.

“I never got the chance to ask, but did you enjoy your dance the other night?”

“What dance?” Bilbo didn’t dance, of that he was very certain.

“The one with Thorin? We were all quite curious as to how it would have gone. Are you sure you’re okay? Perhaps we ought to get you checked out for an illness…”

“No, no, it’s fine. Keep telling me about this dance.” A dance with Thorin though, now that sounded intriguing, and perhaps a little tempting. Though Bilbo could hardly imagine the grumpy vampire entertaining him with a dance of any sort.

“Okay,” Ori sounded skeptical but continued to humor an obviously under the weather Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. “Thorin seemed beyond smitten just looking at you, did you notice? It wasn’t the gold coat, but you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blush so hard between the scales–”

“Scales?”

“The ones on his nose in particular.”

This dream-Thorin had scales on his face, an enchanted mountain with a teacup companion…this was some Beauty and The Beast nonsense, wasn’t it? But like…in dragon form. That explained the whole ‘dragon’s enchantment’ thing, didn’t it? Thorin, big broody and grumbly Thorin, as some beast cast away in a castle?

“Yeah, that checks.” Bilbo had seen and heard stranger things before–look at the crew that was currently taking up every inch of space in his Bed and Breakfast! However, this seemed just slightly worse. If only his Thorin could be a little more besotted. Perhaps in due time. 

Bilbo just needed to find the beauty behind the beast, huh? 

The thought had caused Bilbo to stop, a small grin on his face as he was lost in thought as it caught the attention of Ori the teacup.

“Bilbo? Is something the matter?”

“No, not at all. I appreciate your insight into the whole…dance thing. It just reminded me of something I’ve forgotten.”

“What’s that?”

“Something…something about a grumbly royal and a rose…”

This seemed to go well with Ori. “I’ll have Dori set out some proper tea for whenever you decide to retire. Do tell Thorin he can stop his fussing, you’re just fine.”

“Oh, I’ll tell him alright.”

“Goodnight, Mister Bilbo.”

“Thank you Ori and…well, until we meet again, I guess.” Offering the confused teacup a small wave, Bilbo trotted off to at least look like he knew where he was going before he was alone once more. Glancing down towards the gem hanging around his neck, Bilbo let a soft hum of thought buzz between his lips. First and foremost, no one was going to believe this wild ass dream of his, and secondly…did Thorin like roses? Or dancing? Perhaps it was that soft heart of Bilbo’s that was being impacted by a few words from an imaginary dream-teacup Ori. 

But it never hurt to try these things, did it?

After all, Thorin had proven that he wasn’t a total beast all the time. Like the song went: there’s something sweet, and almost kind–and Bilbo was going to find that side of the vampire.

As the amulet was slipped off and Bilbo’s world sank into darkness once more, he was determined to find something there that wasn’t there before.

#raz answers #idnmt #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #ori #teacup ori #fic: dragonhearted #fic: where the shadows lie #wednesday word play #THIS WAS A LOT OF FUN #razzywrites

[yami-the-outcast]

Sleepy Smol

So I wrote more with my Dio kids. And it’s more naga au Because that’s what my brain’s been stuck on I dunno why, that’s just where I’m at rn Gotta live with it Just a smol Twyla looking for some comfort in bad weather because nobody can get enough of that

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It wasn’t unusual for Jotaro to hear his door creak open in the middle of the night, especially one as stormy as this. Usually LB or another small person around the house would be frightened into the safety of his coils or his stomach for the rest of the night, letting the gentle gurgles cover the sound of thunder and lightning. But this time was different… Jolyne was still curled in her little hammock, and the lack of little pitter-pattering footsteps confirmed it wasn’t LB… options were limited from that point on, and it was only in the flash of a lightning strike that he caught a glimpse of blonde hair and pale magenta scales, causing him to initially tense. Twyla? What was the daughter of Dio doing in here of all places? After that… rough first meeting, she’d mostly stuck to Joseph or Josuke, giving him a wide berth. Couldn’t blame the kid, after all he *had* threatened to rip the rattle at the end of her tail out… fuck, he’d really gone overboard with that crap. Lucky Jolyne hadn’t seen him like that, that wasn’t exactly the example he wanted to set for his daughter… Another flash of light, and the small naga was crawling into his bed, eyes tired but wide in fear, shivering as she went to curl up with the larger, shivering as the next crash of thunder overhead seemed to set the windows rattling, the wind howling like a fearsome creature outside. Initially Jotaro was unsure what to do with the small naga… thus far she’d been afraid of him, and this was the spawn of his possibly worst enemy, but she was also a child… A scared child right now… Despite his own hesitance, instinct was still roaring in his chest, the urge to protect this little one from whatever was frightening her and keep her close. He settled for curling himself around the small naga, coils forming a protective barrier between her and the outside world as she latched on to him, face buried in his stomach as she whimpered. A large hand brushed through that mess of thick blonde hair, running through the strands and down her back before rising again, gently stroking the small’s back as he sighed. “‘M sorry..,” Twyla whispered, so faint he almost didn’t hear it, her hands clutching his shirt as she whimpered with the next crack of thunder, “didn’t… didn’t mean to… couldn’t see… s-sorry…” Jotaro sighed, continuing his ruffling of the little naga’s hair, fingers finding her little bow and going to undo it as he brought her up a bit towards his face, “you’re not the first to wake me in the middle of the night, and you’re not going to be the last. Stop apologizing…” If Jolyne was in this position, and she had been before, frightened and seeking comfort, he’d want someone to comfort her. Just because of a bloodline, he couldn’t just let this child suffer… God, he’d fucked up before, nothing he could do was going to change that first meeting, but hopefully he could do something to show he wasn’t a complete monster.

Another sigh left his lips before he asked softly, “do you want to go inside?” After the last experience, with how rough and frightening he’d been with her brother, he wouldn’t blame the small naga for being fearful of the idea, though was pleasantly surprised when Twyla whimpered and butted her head against his chin. A sign as universal to a naga as the “pick me up” gesture was to a human. His jaws parted automatically, the head passing his lips larger than his own daughters, but still manageable after years of dealing with Josuke when he was a kid. She was still whimpering and shivering, though this time not because of him, if anything she leaned into the motions of his jaws and tongue. Trying to push herself forward into that deep warmth, away from the frightening sounds outside. Jotaro found himself purring deep in his chest as he gulped down the smaller naga, her head and shoulders slipping down his throat with a thick swallow, trembling tail following after with relative ease. A far cry from the first time he’d roughly swallowed down her brother… He settled back on his bed, setting aside the hair ribbon he’d undone before resting a hand on his middle to feel the little slithery form slip inside, his stomach welcoming the young naga with a soft groan as his abs visibly bloated outward with the small form. She shifted around inside, small hands pushing out against the walls for a moment as she settled down, the larger naga’s middle gurgling and groaning in response until she coiled up in the somewhat tight confines. Seemed she didn’t know what to make of her new surroundings, Jotaro feeling a few odd rubs and pokes from the small form, a frown crossing his face as he poked at the small bulge she made, the squirms stopping for a moment before the faintest of giggles reached his ears. The larger naga sighed as he settled back in bed, keeping his hand on his stomach, “Now settle down, get some sleep.” He had a distinct feeling her brother would be less than happy in the morning when he found out about this, but Jotaro would deal with the feisty kid later. For now, he could revel in the familiar warmth of a full belly and the sounds of the storm outside as he settled down to sleep. 

#jj/ba vore #jj/ba naga au #extreme cuddling #Twyla Rouge #Sleepy child was looking for Joseph and found Joot instead #Clearly this wasn't the worst choice she could have made #Not so mean Jotaro #He's getting better

[terrifyingly-bi]

Whumptober Day 9: The Very Noisy Night (Steve & Robin)

Sleeping in Shifts

Summary: Steve and Robin get settled for the night. They’re both worried but handle it very differently.

Warnings: sleep deprivation, worries, mental ranting

Word Count: 853

A/N: Where do their rant end and my own insecurities begin? Who knows?

『••✎••』

“You’re worse than a mother hen,” Robin said as she watched Steve make the rounds for the fourth time in an hour. “It’s not like they’re in danger in here.”

Steve at her from across the room and held up a finger over his lips, shushing her. “They’re sleeping,” he said, pointing down at his feet where the rest of the gang were sleeping soundly, sprawled out in various makeshift beds and nests. “And if it’s so safe, then why are you still up guarding with me?” He tip-toed around Will and joined Robin in the next room.

“Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t fall asleep,” Robin said. It was only half a lie. Part of her didn’t want to let Steve stay up all by himself, she’d seen how he got when he worried - which was a frantic mess. Another part of her, however, knew that if she tried to sleep she would undoubtely be greeted by nothing but nightmares.

“I would never,” Steve said. He wrapped his arms around himself as he glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping kids. He had to admit that things had been rather calm and the only one in some kind of danger was Dustin, who was hanging halfway off the edge of the couch.

The two friends look at one another. “You really going to fuss over them all night?” Robin asked.

Steve sighed as he sat down next to her by the table. “No… well, maybe. I don’t know,” he admitted. He scratched the back of his head. 

He was worried about his friends. It made sense to keep watch since the moment someone didn’t, something seemed to crawl out of the woodwork to fuck their day up.

“I could stay up if you’d rather get some rest,” Robin offered. She gave him a gentle smile. 

“No, I shouldn’t. I said I’d stay up,” Steve said. He looked over at her and looked at how she was curled up with her arms around her knees. “Aren’t you going to sleep? You’ve been up all day.”

Robin quickly shook her head. “I am not sleeping,” she said. “I don’t get how they can.” She nodded over to where Max and El were tucked in under a big fluffy blanket.

More silence followed before Steve mumbled, “Are you scared?”

"Scared?" Robin looked away.

Of course she was scared. They'd been hounded by creatures and monsters of all kinds while people who should do something about it didn't seem to care. She was scared that they were the only ones that cared. Scared that they were the only ones who were willing to put their lives on the line to try and stop it. It was way more responsibility than she had asked for. She hadn't even graduated high school!

"Yeah," she mumbled. "I guess I am..." She sighed and turned and looked at Steve. "What about you? Aren't you scared?"

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. Inside, he was scared to bits. He usually tried not to think about how he felt about his new role as a caretaker and protector. It wasn't that the kids' parents didn't care or didn't worry, it was just that Steve seemed to be the only one that both knew what was going on and was old enough to know exactly how horrible the situation actually was. He felt like he had been handed too many glasses and didn't have enough hands to hold them: one wrong move and it all would come crashing down and he'd be left standing in a mess that would only hurt him.

"I'm okay," he said, keeping the charade up. "Nothing I can't handle."

Robin didn't seem convinced but she didn't want to confront him about it. Even though she knew that Steve wasn't nearly as cool as he had seemed in school, he was still more put-together than her. She cursed herself for being weak, she was supposed to be tough.

Steve, on the other hand, wished that he could be vulnerable like Robin, but he knew that the moment he admitted to himself or anyone else that he was terrified he was going to break down and not be able to get back up.

They sat in silence for a while more until Robin struggled not to let a yawn show. "Are you sure that you'd rather not just sleep?" Steve asked.

"I don't want to sleep," Robin mumbled. "I want to stay awake."

"Geez, okay," Steve said. He crossed his arms over his chest and sank deeper into the soft couch. He was too strung up to be tired, but he wouldn't mind resting. He would if he wasn't keeping watch.

Robin turned and looked at him, then scooted closer. "Fine. I'll rest my eyes, but if anything happens you wake me up first," she muttered.

Steve nodded and shifted so that she could lean against him. "I'll be right here if you need anything," he said.

They nodded at one another. It was nice to have someone you trusted close. They were both catastrophic messes but at least they had one another.

#whumptober2022 #no.9 #the very noisy night #sleeping in shifts #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #fic #worries #mental ranting

[hagravenholm]

I’m so fucking tired of mfs acting like you’re a goddamn alien creature from another realm crawling out a primordial soup or some shit because you stay up late and go to bed late. Yes, normies w a middle-aged ass schedule I understand bc up until recently (when it was so considerately ripped away from me) I had a job where I woke up at 6am so yeah I get it but no I’m not fucking getting paid to wake up that fucking early anymore so why would I make that choice when I do not want or need to in any way. So shut up. Oh my god. 7 billion people on earth and I’m the fucking strangest human being of all time bc I stay up until 3am which is really 12am in my mind bc of a time difference but sure holy shit oh my god I can’t take it

#jfc #I’m at my limit.

[parallel-selfs]

Camp Vargas (Art)

Followed Mewshi Q's playthrough.

Crowley, Idia and Ortho aren't here.

Alice and Grim doesn't have to stay at Pomefiore for three days, but Vil (and especially Rook) is with them so mission failed.

"One of my club members isn't here." -Jade

"My club member isn't here yet, shouldn't we wait?" -Jade

"Hey guys!"

Jade's staring at Alice after hearing she's the record keeper, thinking to himself, "I have a member in my club, but I'm still alone during this exciting time. Tragic."

Trein, after hearing to Alice's explanation last week, tells Vargas to care for the students properly.

"Let's give them 10 minutes before checking out their progress."

"You could say that again."

"Okay, pose everyone."

"Now will you use the bug spray?"

"Don't bully my direbeast, that's my job."

"I can't remember."

"Weren't suppose to."

"Yeah, you got it right."

"Yeah, how is everything going?"

Backs away to let the students handle the fairies.

I haven't smoked meat in a long time.

(The camera's getting closer and closer from Jade's excitement.)

Damn, Jade, calm down.

"Thank you." (I find Jade giving food to Yuu cute)

Why do you have a glass vial on you?

"Or Grim doesn't pay attention whatsoever."

Has a heart attack.

"What?"

"Because you're easy to scare."

"Malleus, what the fuck?"

"Are we sleeping outside again?"

(Malleus, no!)

Wakes up annoyed.

"Yeah, but we got to bear it." "Grim, how dare you."

Listens mindlessly.

Chuckles at Grim.

"Grim? Grim, where are you?"

Tries to clean the direbeast up a little bit.

"Thanks for letting us have some."

"I didn't see anything, but considering there was two phantoms in those mines, I'm concerned."

"Two phantoms?!" -Azul and Vil

"Kalim!"

"Jade, what the hell, why are you telling a story like that?"

"That does the opposite of calming someone down. We're well aware of the dangers."

"All I got is dad jokes, Kalim. It's the best I can do."

(Like fighting Vargas)

"No, I'm not risking you getting eaten again."

Even though she's a part of it now, she still hates it because "aw, yes, let's traumatizes some teenagers for character development."

Sighs. "Let's get this over with."

"We were in our tent just winding down when we suddenly heard shouting and something darting out of the cottage Vargas was in. We looked inside, and he was gone!"

"It ran so fast, we couldn't see it well. I believe I saw horns and that was pretty large."

"I mean, it makes sense to ask."

Covers Grim's mouth and whispers to him to be quiet.

"Vargas is missing and the place he was staying at is turned upside-down. Also, Vil, didn't you see something in the mines?" (Seriously, use that to your advantage)

Points out the appearance of the creature Vil saw and the appearance of the creature Alice described being different. "There could be two monsters out there, or more for all we know." Really making herself look frightened.

"I appreciate the offer."

"Be careful, guys."

"But he doesn't have his magic pen."

(I would jump Azul if I was there)

"We're the record keepers, where do you think we were?"

Chuckles at Vil's comment.

(Vargas is having this conversation while being paralyzed on the ground)

"What the fuck?" "My son!"

"Really, Azul?! Vargas and Grim just got kidnapped and you're worrying about a badge?!"

"Jade, I'm going to smack you."

"Azul, I'm going to smack you as well."

"I want to get my cat back."

Fair.

Looks around while they find Grim and Vargas.

Oh fuck!

"Grim!"

Immediately grabs Grim. (F u, Jade, my direbeast.)

"You're being very casual despite your students fighting for their life."

"Let me guess, they're not actually in dangerous and you didn't tell us the whole plan."

In the darkness, yes.

Alice is walking away while they talk. She wants to shower and crawl into bed.

She ratted them out to Trein, he is very disappointed.

(Vargas, don't do that, it's unsettling)

Vil and Trey were suppose to work at Mostro Lounge next month, aka May, but Book 7 happened in May.

#twisted wonderland #alice #facts about alice #twst event