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shadowynn · 1 year

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| the paradigm complex | one |

pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

genre: yandere!vampire!cult!poly! ateez au

warnings: yandere behavior, some cursing

They'll do whatever you ask. Anything you need. Anything you want. It's yours. They'll fulfill your every desire and whim. Give you the life you had always dreamed about.

And in exchange, you wouldn't just give them your soul. Oh, no. They weren't demons. What good was your soul alone when your purpose was better served alive and well? Your soul was nice, sure but it wasn't all they wanted. It wasn't all they needed. They needed your body, your mind. Your blood. You entirely. Every single fiber of your being was essential and would soon be theirs and theirs alone.

The moment you signed that contract, everything would change. For them and for you.

You just didn't know it yet.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

wordcount: 4.8k

a/n: it's here! perhaps a bit shorter than i expected, but as i was getting into things, i figured this was a good place to end the first chapter. i am so incredibly excited for this project and can't wait to start getting into the nitty gritty of it all. if you weren't around for the preview a while back, or just missed it, this piece is inspired by the movie 1BR with the addition of vampires, because I just can't help myself. (though, these types of vampires won't be like your typical vampire) this work will be a lot different than my other, in both writing style and in content, as it will have an overall, much darker tone. sure, they'll be plenty of fluff pieces. like i have so many scenarios in my mind i want to do (helping mc move in and putting furniture together, random shopping trips, movie/game nights, letting mc do laundry at their place when your machine just so happens to 'break' etc.) but their relationship with mc will not exactly be the healthiest. hope you all enjoy :)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So, what do you think?”

You were startled from your thoughts at the voice that spoke up next to you. The empty seat beside you now occupied by the sweet-talking man who had been your tour guide for the day - Yeosang if you were recalling it correctly. It had surprised you how young he had been when you had signed in for the open house an hour or so ago and you were once again struck by that very same notion as he plopped down next to you, pocketing his phone and propping his head up with his right arm.

“It’s very nice,” you replied, eyes once more taking in the scene around you. After touring the available unit for the first half of the showing, you had been brought to the center of the complex that was used as a community center. The outdoors area was enclosed by the building around it and included everything from a garden and greenhouse to a swimming pool and grilling area. “And the community also seems great.”

You referred to the young boy currently sitting in your lap, content with scribbling over one of the applications you had been given at the end of the tour to fill out. You didn’t know anything beyond his given name, Junseo, but he had become attached to you when you had noticed him crying on the ground near the edge of the garden. While the others in your group had swept their eyes right past the sniffling child, you had approached him, rustling through your purse for the bandages you kept there when you noticed the cut on his knee. His mother had thanked you profusely when he had led you to her, too busy attending to another part of the garden to notice what had happened. And though you had left him with her, it didn’t take long for him to return to you, preferring your calm company over the few other kids scattered around the grounds while his mother worked.

You thought it strange, but the wave his mother sent you when she saw him with you told you she didn’t mind. It made you wonder just what sort of community there was here for her and the others to be comfortable letting their children run unsupervised, especially with people they didn’t even know.

It was just another piece of evidence of how nice this place was. You had heard the rumors, but seeing it in person was something else. There wasn’t a single factor about this place that deterred you in any way, and the longer you spent here exploring it, the more you fell in love with it. It was absolutely perfect, everything you could ever wish for, but-

“But…” As though he had read your mind, the man finished your train of thought, a hint of a smile tracing his lips as his eyes traveled to the papers you had left for Junseo to scribble over.

“But it’s a bit out of my price range, I’m afraid.”

A bit was an understatement; the place was double what you could reasonably afford. Though you had known that going in. Since The Paradigm had popped up a few years ago, it had quickly risen the ranks to become one of the most prestigious and highly exclusive apartment complexes in the city. You had known the price for the available unit would be high above your budget, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from signing up for the open house the following weekend when you noticed a few spots were still available. It wasn’t often units opened up, with the last one being nearly a year ago, and the timing had been impeccable.

You weren’t really looking for a new place to live. You had one in the south end of town with your boyfriend, and yet, that hadn’t stopped you from looking at available housing in the city on your laptop late at night when he was still at ‘work’, but you wanted out. You had wanted out for months now since you had first caught wind he was cheating, and still cheating, but it had always seemed so impossible. You were still finishing up your last year in school, and even with working enough hours to be considered full time at the bookstore, you could barely afford your half of the rent. A fact he readily reminded you of any time you threatened to leave him. As much as you hated every time he said it, he was right. You did need him. Unless you were willing to sacrifice your own safety and move into a shitty unit in a sketchy part of town, you were stuck exactly where you were. You needed him and he was more than happy to hold it over your head.

Perhaps it was because of this that you had come out today. He had been scheduled weekends at the hospital for the month, leaving you more than free and able to come to the open house without him questioning you on your whereabouts when you left. The Paradigm was a life you could never afford, and yet, it was nice to escape reality for a few hours. To sit and imagine what your life would be like if you hadn’t landed yourself in such a sticky situation. And yet, you hadn’t expected the stab of melancholy that had hit you as you had roamed the studio apartment available, nor as you sat here in the courtyard with the pleasant buzz of the complex’s current tenants as they took advantage of the beautiful day.

“Does that mean you’re looking for a place on your own, then?” he asked, attempting to blow back the piece of hair the wind had cast in front of his eyes.

“Myself?” you asked, unable to stop the tiny stab of panic that ran through you at the mention of you being on your own. Was that something you could really do? Was leaving him something you could really do? “Uh, yeah, it would just be me.”

“Well, if you ask me, it doesn’t hurt to still apply. We’re always more than willing to negotiate prices for the right person,” he hummed, fingers tapping against the table. “Though it would probably be best if I grabbed you a new copy. Junseo seems to have taken yours for himself.” At the mention of his name, Junseo looked up and matched the goofy smile Yeosang sent his way.

“That’s very kind of you, but even then…” You turned your face away, fighting the blush the embarrassment your current situation brought. Despite attempting to dress up for the event, you still stuck out from the others who had signed up. The designer clothes and custom handbags a stark contrast from the outfit you had thrifted the day before. Hell, even Junseo had nicer clothes than you to run around the garden in. “To be completely honest, I really just wanted to get an inside peek of this place. I knew I couldn’t afford to live somewhere like this at the moment, or perhaps ever, but I thought it might be fun to just imagine it for a moment.”

You resituated Junseo’s position in your lap, taking in the people milling around the grounds. It was a beautiful day, bright and warm compared to the rainy days that had plagued the city for the past week. It was the perfect day to spend time outside and enjoy what little remained of summer and you could see yourself fitting in well here. Helping out in the garden in between playing with the few children scattered about. Maybe even take a dip in the pool afterwards to cool off from a hard day’s work before lounging in a nearby chair to soak up the last bits of the summer sun.

It was just too bad it was a lifestyle you could never afford on your own. Not while you were still in school and already struggling with bills and debt as it was.

“But you are currently looking for a new place to live, right?”

“It’s not an immediate necessity at the moment, but yes,” you nodded, “if given the opportunity, I would move in a heartbeat. Not just here, but anywhere. As long as it was safe and something I could call my own.”

“Then fill out an application.” He ruffled around in his bag, pulling out another application and pushing it towards you. “I’m close with the owner and can put in a good word for you. Just fill it out, list the rent you can feasibly pay at the moment, and we might be able to work something out. After all, we’re much more concerned about quality than quantity here at Paradigm.”

“You would do that?” Your eyes widened, wondering why on earth this man would do that for you when the rest of the group you were with would be willing to pay twice the starting rent just for the opportunity to say they lived in the most exclusive complex in the city. “Why?”

“I like to think I have a nose for good people,” he smiled, fingers tapping against the application, “and you’re a good person, y/n, I can smell it. So, come on, Junnie,” he reached for the boy on your lap, ignoring the pout that crossed his lips as he took him from your hold, “let’s get you back to your mother so the pretty lady can fill out her application.”

He left you at that, but only made it a few feet before he was stopped by a nearby couple in the tour group. By the glance they sent your way, you knew they had overheard Yeosang’s mention of putting in a good word for you and hoped to earn a similar feat for themselves. After all, it didn’t matter who was the first person to apply for the unit or who was the highest bidder when it came to The Paradigm. You didn’t get to choose whether or not you lived here. They chose you. And a good word from the tour guide was exactly what you needed to get in.

Not wanting to stick around for the conversation, Junseo wriggled his way out of Yeosang’s grasp and made off in the direction of his mother with one last toothy grin in your direction.

You turned back to the second application he had handed you, twirling the pen in your hand as you mulled it over. None of it made much sense in your mind. Why would they select your application when there were hundreds of others that would willingly pay triple what you could? But even if that was true, and the chances of you getting in were close to zero, what did you have to lose? What was the worst that could happen? That you’d be left exactly where you started. In a shitty situation, but no shittier than it already was. And on the tiny chance it did go through, well, your entire life could change. You would have that fresh start you had been yearning for so long.

That and, well, there was something charming about Yeosang, something about him that was enticing. It didn’t slip your notice that he had called you pretty in passing, and though you knew it was just the way his personality seemed to be, you still felt a pull towards him. He was someone you could get along with, that much you could tell. Someone that you would enjoy getting to know and become friends with if you had the chance to.

So, before you could overthink it and talk yourself out of it, you pulled the application closer towards you and began filling it out.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If there was one thing in life that stressed you out, it was phone calls. You never knew what about them always caused your anxiety to spike each time you saw an incoming call flash up on your phone screen, but you avoided them as much as you could, preferring to either text or talk in person. So, when a call from an unknown number interrupted the song coming from your car’s speakers, you made to silence it knowing that if it was important, they would just leave a message. However, something about the number on your screen seemed familiar and made you pause.,

You didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment, not after all the shit you had dealt with the first half of your shift for the day, but your finger still hovered over the accept button as you quickly searched your brain for the reason behind its familiarity. Thinking it might just be your doctor finally returning your call for the refill you had been waiting for or even possibly a call on one of the countless job applications you had been filling out the past few weeks, you grudgingly accepted figuring it would be better to get it over with now instead of living with the stress of what it might be the rest of your shift.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this l/n y/n?”

“Um, yeah.” You shifted the phone in your hand, trying to place the familiarity of the voice on the other end. “This is y/n.”

“This is Kang Yeosang from Paradigm. I’m calling to let you know that your application for unit 604 has been accepted.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

You couldn’t hold back the gasp his response elicited, but you were able to catch the string of curse words before they slipped out. Despite Yeosang’s promise of putting in a good word for you, you had never expected anything to come out of it. Not when you had followed through with his suggestion and wrote down the actual amount you could feasibly pay for the place. And though you had held on to some hope something would come from it, you had already come to accept the fact you would never hear from them again.

“I can assure you, I’m quite serious,” he chuckled. “I talked with the owner about your application and he was more than willing to accept it as long as you were willing to accept a few additional stipulations that I’d like to discuss with you now if you have the time.”

“Oh, okay.”

You did your best to hide your disappointment, already fearing the worst. Despite Yeosang’s insistence they were willing to negotiate on pricing, you should have known they would never just drop the rent in half for you because he had felt pity towards you.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like we’re going to ask you to sell your soul,” he chuckled. “You see, one of our administrative assistants recently put in her resignation and we’re in need of a replacement. When we looked over your application, we noticed the address of your current residence and place of work are on the other side of the city and came to the conclusion you would likely be in need of a job with a better commute if you were to move here.”

You felt yourself begin to relax; the dread his earlier statement had caused slowly being replaced with excitement once more as he began to explain himself. Was he alluding to what you thought he was?

“We’d like to extend a job offer towards you here at The Paradigm, which if you were to accept, would cover the cost of your rent in addition to a biweekly stipend to cover any other expenses you might have.”

“And what exactly would the job entail?” you asked, trying hard to cover the shock his reply gave you and trying just as hard to not let your hopes get too high before you figured out exactly what it was he was offering you. There had to be a catch. The offer was just too good to be true. So what was it? “I’m finishing up my last year of university online, but I would still need some flexibility in my schedule to account for my classes.”

“Oh, it would just be your typical administrative work. You’d mostly just be assisting myself and the other managers here and we’re more than willing to work around your class schedule,” Yeosang replied without skipping a beat. “I understand this is quite a bit of information for you to go through and a big decision to make, so please take your time. I’ll be sending an email to you here soon that includes a detailed description of the job alongside the logistics of your pay and housing for you to look through when you have a moment. It will help in giving you a clearer idea of just what you would be signing up for if you were to accept.”

You were silent, unsure of what exactly to say. What could you say? Everything you had wished for the past few months was finally being extended towards you. A new job, housing of your own, and most importantly, a way out of the toxic relationship you had been stuck in for so long. All of it. Everything you dreamed of for so long, now within reach.

There had to be a catch, right? It couldn’t be as good as it seemed, right? So, what was it?

“Like, I said, you don’t have to give me an answer now. Read through the emails I’ll be sending you and just give us a call back sometime within the next two weeks when you’ve decided.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had briefly looked over the emails Yeosang sent you over the last few minutes of your lunch break, but it wasn’t until the next morning that you had a chance to sit down and really go through them, bogged down with school work when you had gotten home from work the night before.

You were curled up on the couch with a blanket, nursing a cup of tea as you read through the email for the fifth time that morning, trying to figure out what the catch was. But just as always, you couldn’t find anything. Everything seemed straightforward and in order. No loops or holes or questionable activities in sight. The hours were flexible to account for your current classes, and they only required you to start working full time when you graduated at the end of the year. And yet, despite only having to work half the hours you currently were, it was still enough to cover your rent and utilities, as well as a more than generous stipend as long as you agreed to stay with them for the next two years.

There were a few other stipulations lined out towards the end of the agreement, but they were menial tasks compared to what you had been expecting, and something all occupants were asked to follow. It was mostly spending a few hours every month volunteering in the community garden - which also paid out in receiving part of the harvest for free - and then donating blood every other month as long as you were in fit condition to do so. You had found this last one strange until you remembered reading about how The Paradigm also ran their own blood bank which served the nearby hospitals, and requested their residents give through the program as part of their fee for living there.

You sighed as you reached the end of the email once again, eyes glancing up at the apartment around you. As usual for a Monday morning when he was working weekends, your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. He claimed work as the culprit per usual, but you weren’t oblivious to his charade anymore, not like you used to be. It wasn’t work that kept him out so late. It wasn’t his twelve hour shifts running long that kept him sleeping at the hospital instead of coming home. And when he finally came home tonight long after you had already gone to bed, you’d be stuck acting like nothing was wrong on the following days he had off.

You had wanted out of this hell for so long, but just always assumed it would be impossible, especially at your current stage in life. He was several years older than you and had a steady, well-paying job as a nurse at the nearby hospital. His offer had been so enticing when he had asked you to move in with him nearly two years ago, but that had been a different time. A time where his pretty face and charismatic character had swept you in before trapping you here with him with no way out.

You didn’t understand why he was so intent on having you stay. It was clear his interest in you had waned over the past year, but anytime you mentioned leaving, he flipped. Those were the nights when everything became blurred. You always went into the conversation with the full intent of leaving, oftentimes bags already packed and ready to go, only to find yourself curled up in bed with him once again the following morning, head pounding, memories blurred, and bags unpacked and put away.

He was always sweet to you in the days that followed, giving you his full attention and telling you how much he needed you and how much you needed him. Of just how important you were to him and how he would never be able to survive without you. But his words were only ever short lived, and he’d be back to his old habits a week or so later, creating an endless cycle with no way out. Or at least you had always thought.

All you had to do was accept the offer in front of you and you would have that fresh start you so desperately craved. No more shitty relationship. No more shitty job. No more shitty apartment. And no more feeling like complete shit because of all of it.

In front of you was the opportunity of a lifetime. An opportunity to live at one of, if not the most, prestigious complexes in the city, and for all intents and purposes, being paid to live there. All you had to do was accept. Accept the offer they had handed you and start your life over again.

And as Yeosang had joked, they weren’t even asking for your soul in exchange. It was simply being the right person at the right time. Not that it had mattered, you’d probably give it to them anyways if they had, gladly giving it away for the hell you lived in now.

Your hand hovered over the phone beside you, debating whether or not to call the number Yeosang had left for you and make the active decision to finally change your life.

“Thank you for calling The Paradigm Complex, how may I help you?”

You didn’t recognize the voice at the other end, signaling it wasn’t Yeosang you were speaking to this time around. And though it did make you a bit nervous, unsure of what the other workers might be like, Yeosang had promised everyone there was a delight to work with, including the upper management.

“Um, hi, this is l/n y/n, and I’m calling about my acceptance into unit 604.”

“Ah, Miss l/n, it’s a pleasure to hear from you. I’m Jung Wooyoung, one of the other Property Managers here at the Paradigm. Is there a question I can help you with or do you by chance have an answer towards your acceptance here?”

“Well, I’ve gone through the email you sent me a few times now and I think…” you paused for just a second, taking one final look at the apartment around you. “I think I would like to accept your offer if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear! We’ve all been very excited to have you on board with us here after everything our Yeosang has had to say about you. He has a great eye for people, after all,” he chuckled, easing some of your earlier worries. Yeosang was right. He seemed nice. And if these were the types of people you would be working with, it would be a vast improvement over your current workplace. “We’ll need you to come in sometime within the next week to go over and sign some paperwork before everything can go through and we can hand you your keys. Is there a time or day that works best for you?”

“Oh, well, I’m free today if that works,” you reply, feeling more eager than ever to finally go through with it now that you had finally made that first step. It was really happening. You were getting out of here. “It’s last minute, I know, so if not, I don’t think I’d be able to come in until Friday afternoon or Saturday morning.”

It was only a partial lie. You would probably have time to make it in before their office closed tomorrow or any time on Thursday, but then your boyfriend would start to get curious as to why you were either out late, or going out when you didn’t have work. And until all the paperwork was signed and everything was certain, you didn’t want to mention any of this to him. Not when he would do anything and everything to keep you from following through and leaving him.

“We could definitely fit you in sometime today if that’s what works best for you,” he replied and you could hear the distant clacking of a keyboard. “I don’t think Seonghwa is too busy today, so I’ll send him a message and let him know you’re coming in so he can help you get everything signed and situated. Does around two work for you?”

“Yeah, that works great.” It was impossible to keep the smile off your face as you switched your phone over to your other ear. “Do I just come in the same entrance I did for the open house?”

“The gate to the parking garage will be locked, but just page the front desk when you pull up and I can let you in. From there, just park where you did before in the visitor section and I can once again let you inside the building when you get to the door.” He paused for a second and you hear the muffled sounds of voices as someone approached him. “Sorry about that,” he continued after a few moments, “Seonghwa just popped in, so I let him know you’d be headed this way in a few hours. He told me to let you know that either Mingi or Yunho should also be free around that time to draw a sample of your blood for testing. That way we can see if you’re fit to be a donor with us during your stay, so make sure to drink plenty of fluids and eat beforehand.”

“You do it all there?”

“We have our own clinic on the property, yes, and though it’s mostly used as a blood bank for our give-back program, our staff on hand is also available and qualified to help with any other medical needs you might have during your time with us. All of which is completely covered.”

“Oh, wow.”

“It’s just one of the many added benefits you’ll have while you’re living and working here with us. All of which will be gone over with Seonghwa when you’re finishing up your paperwork later this afternoon,” he replied, and you could hear the chuckle your earlier response caused. "We like to think of The Paradigm as its own individual community here in the city and aim to be as self-sufficient as we can, so if there’s anything you ever need, just ask. We’re always more than happy to help each other here. Our only request is that you return the favor for us whenever the roles happen to be reversed.”

And they will. Oh, they will. You could count on that.

They'll do whatever you ask. Anything you need. Anything you want. It's yours. They'll fulfill your every desire and whim. Give you the life you had always dreamed about.

The moment you signed that contract, everything would change. For them and for you.

You just didn't know it yet.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @penguichuu @peppermint-tea-life @mrcarrots

just let me know if you would like to be added/deleted from the taglist! :)

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #vampire ateez #ot8 #ot8 x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #wooyoung x reader #yandere ateez #yandere

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oreosmama · 3 months

Text

What's in a Virtue (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader)---Part 3

*GIF not mine*

Summary:

Gaz wants you, but the hotel bar you work at has rules; when a bartender calls dibs, all others have to back off. It’s how the peace is kept, and as the new girl just trying to rack up some savings, you’re not willing to rock the boat.

But Gaz doesn’t take kindly to you avoiding him, and he’s never been one to beat around the bush. From confessing his love on the first night you met to shouting your name seven times from across the bar, he’s not letting you off the hook that easy. Not when he’s seen the proof that you’ve fallen just as hard for him.

A/N: mwahaha, and they said it couldn't be done. those who doubted me shall gaze upon my very first (and perhaps last) complete series! Victoryyyyy! I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 8374

Part 1 Part 2

You’re pretty sure you didn’t hear him right.

You’ve got morning-after brain, and his chest is so hot and adamant behind you, and his breath is right next to your ear. Plus, your stomach is growling with a pit only chocolate-chip pancakes and white peach oolong can fill.

And he’s doing that tracing thingy again. G. A. Then what?

R. Maybe.

And that leads you to think you might’ve just maybe heard him correctly, because why the hell is he drawing his last name on your hip so brutishly that it twinges?

“Um.” You stiffen. “What.”

Not really a question. The way you say it, it comes out more like you don’t want to know the answer even if you really did ask.

Kyle groans that long, gruff way, husked past his vocal cords and throbbing a path through your entire body. “Look, I get it.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Just let me… ah, fuck, I know it sounds ridiculous, love, but hear me out.” He moves away, giving you space to think while he leans against the counter and grips the edge, tight.

“Wait,” you hold up a hand before he can start talking again, because you need a minute. Several minutes, actually. A whole assload of minutes to comprehend the suggestion he’s just thrown at you. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you serious?”

This is probably just what Kyle’s morning-after brain is like. It makes stupid, sudden suggestions that he just blurts out on a whim with no regard for how it’ll land. In all fairness, you doubt it’s ever done him wrong before. Even in a regular headspace it’d be hard to tell him no.

Never mind that he’s shirtless, and that his broad shoulders eat up the space of three cupboards, and that his gaze is doing that thing again—that unfair thing where he towers over you but can still make you feel like he’s kneeling, dips his head so those pleading irises look up at you.

“Dead serious, love.”

There’s an air about him that’s resolute, despite it all. He’s tender but stern, decided and confident in his conclusion. He’s shedding his clothes and skin, leaving himself belly-up for you to bite.

“Kyle…”

“Too soon?” He doesn’t even look hurt. Just expectant.

You shrug helplessly. “Yes? Very too soon, don’t you think?” You spin around, fiddle with the pancake mix but don’t open it. The mug you’ve microwaved for your tea is probably cool at this point, and you try to turn that into your biggest problem of this morning.

Not the special forces sergeant who lives life at three-hundred miles an hour, exuding such a new energy in here that you can’t remember the basics. It’s the morning after, and as beautifully new as Kyle is, like the stretch of new blue jeans, he’s not threadbare enough in here yet. Too tight, sucking the air out of your own home and leaving you all prickly and sweaty and nervous.

And he wants you to move in with him? Right now? This soon?

It’s easy, when you turn your back to him and lob your hand towards the microwave handle, to pretend that your biggest problem can be amended in minutes.

Because now, despite that itchiness of Kyle’s gaze on your face, your biggest problem is that you haven’t even begun to steep your tea. That’s a huge deal. You’re supposed to do it seconds after the microwave beeps, pull the mug out and let the steam soak into the tea bag that you swing for a bit, always have to watch the foggy-air disruptions back and forth. Then you steep it, let the water grow murky for ten minutes as you cook the rest of the meal. Add sugar, an ice cube because you’re scared it’ll burn your tongue like the first time, and stir while you pour syrup on your plate.

You’re horribly set in your ways, so much so that you hate—actually hate—the newness Kyle’s thrust upon you. It took him twenty-four hours to upset everything.

Well, not everything. Just you. While you feel fresh out of the box, everything around you has been preserved in mundanity.

If you took two rights and a left from this building, you’d find a sandwich shop owned by a short man with an orange cat. If you went two floors up, you’d find a pack of graduate students; one more floor, and you’d see Mrs. Beverly and her purse dog. If you went into your living room, finagled with your window a bit, the shutters would close in a perfect angle so that the sun falls on your couch but doesn’t glare on your TV.

You know it takes you twenty-seven minutes to get to work in the morning right after you brush your teeth. It takes you fourteen minutes to walk home after you clock off. Thirty more minutes to order food and settle in, Netflix the pinnacle of your night before you nod off in a tank top with exactly three holes and short shorts you’d bought under the duress of a busted AC.

You have milk and eggs both two days away from expiration in your fridge, along with old Chinese takeout. You have books with crackled spines and ruffled pages on your bookshelf, and a muddy stain on your entryway carpet from two days after you’d bought it. A bedroom unruly and unbidden, clothes strewn everywhere.

You could envision it all, see it all because you knew it all. Have known it all for the months that this place has been your home and you’d begun working at the hotel bar. You could have the rest of your life mapped out by tomorrow if you really wanted to. It’d be safe. Predictable. Boring, in that average way you’ve always known. None of it would be moving by so fast that you wouldn’t get a break to think of the consequences.

None of it would make you feel like you’re reaching new heights by jumping off cliffs, taking big, stupid risks that wind up working all the damn time—and solely because Kyle makes them work. Because he runs seven steps ahead of you and lays out the golden carpet for you to step on, telling you it’s okay to keep pushing forward.

The phone calls, the talks, his touch and voice. All of it closing in on you, molding you into something fresh and unseen.

But that’s just it. It’s still just you who’s changed.

Not Kyle, who’s certainly been like this his whole life. Who’s used to making snap decisions that have an impact, gotten so damn used to doing that that he carries it with him now.

And it’s not Mariano or his cat Garfield, or the ham and swiss you get on Fridays. It’s not Jared and Samantha, both of whom play Mario Kart after writing another page in their theses. It’s not Mrs. Beverly and Chloe, or Jeanne, or your family or friends you haven’t texted in a while.

Only you.

You’re stripped to your marrow, neurons and fibers spilling all over the place because—oh hell—you’ve grown too big for all this. Kyle’s had you melting and flowing fast and sharp since he first showed up in your life, and you’re moving too fast to feel out that old stagnancy.

But there’s an ugliness that lives inside of you too, that hates how uncomfortable every little step forward is, even if you can’t stop taking them.

It’s exposing. You feel naked, but not in the new, comfortable way Kyle’s helped you discover by virtue of his longing. More naked like school nightmares and too-small bath towels. Naked like someone’s going to douse you in lemon juice and salt any second to watch you writhe.

“Kyle.” Your hand’s still propped on the handle. The microwave beeps again, impatient. “Last night was—God, it was amazing.” You open the door, pull out the mug despite how lukewarm it’s grown. “Best I’ve ever had, by a long shot. But…”

“But what, love? You’re scared?” His voice is barely above a whisper, and you’ve no doubt he’d watched your mind run and run circles around itself, and had had enough time to form an argument of his own. “It’s too much? A lot to ask? I think that too, love, but we’re running out of time.” He rises to his full height, and you try not to shy away at how much space he takes up when he’s grim and serious.

He’s massive, bigger when he’s panting over you, sleek hips pressing down, suppressing your twists and jolts. He’s gotten better at trapping you, too. It’s intimidating. Thrilling, in better circumstances.

You can’t think straight anymore. He smells like pine all over again, and looks it too.

“Come back with me to England. We’ve got bars—bars I can bother you at. We’ve got universities for second chances. I’ve got a flat with plenty of room, plenty of money to—”

“Kyle, please.” The whine rips from your throat, and you drag two hands over your face.

In the corner of your vision, you don’t miss the way he stiffens and swallows a bit. But then he says your name through choked sigh, and rasps, “I know it sounds fuckin’ crazy—I feel like a bloody fool saying it out loud. But I don’t want to lose this, and I can’t keep comin’ back here to start us from scratch every few months.”

You don’t know what to say to that, can’t stop bobbing your mouth open and closed, trying to find those useless words that might explain what’s holding you back.

Something like, It’s only been three months.

Yes, but Kyle knows that too. And he still wants you.

You don’t even really know him.

Sure. But what was there to learn that he wouldn’t offer you on a silver platter?

It’s going to fall apart. It always does for you. Months will pass, and he’ll realize he made a mistake. He’ll kick you to the curb, and you’ll be back to square one.

A coaxing palm cradles your cheek, and a warm thumb prods over your lower lip, both of which make you flinch out of your thoughts. Kyle tips your head up, up, up until you’re looking at him, brown irises gentle and luring.

“I can see it, you know. That cruel little brain of yours is whirring so loud it’s makin’ me nauseous.”

Your eyes fall closed, and you reach up, grapple at Kyle’s wrist, massage the tender spot at its center. “I’m sorry.”

He inhales, ragged and slow. Exhales, blowing past your flyaways. “For what, bunny?”

You continue to caress the baby-soft skin of his wrist, marveling a bit at how different it feels from his rough fingertips, from his scarred thighs, his bruised back. “I need… time. A little bit to think. Consider things.”

The last thing you wanted to do was tell him to leave. You felt like an idiot for even implying that space from him was the something you needed right now. You know the silence will swallow you whole when he’s gone.

“You want me to go?” he breathes out, and his face crumbles. Likely, he didn’t want to leave. He could barely be goaded out of your bed, and now this?

Kyle looks like he wished he hadn’t asked, hadn’t said anything. Those mournful brown eyes slip to the counter, where your mug and pancake box sit, then back to you, to your eyes and nose and lips.

Your lips. He prods at the bottom one, like he can’t help it. The caress slows to a stop when he pinches his eyes closed and tips forward, dropping his forehead to yours. “But I don’t wanna leave, love,” he mumbles. “Scared if I do, you won’t let me back.”

You don’t think you could ever keep him out. Not out of your house, and not out of your head. But your brain feels unspooled and uncollected, and all that’s left are too-sweet cotton-candy wisps that can’t quite latch onto anything.

“I…”

Don’t want you to leave either.

I want you to stay. I want to move in with you. I want every night to be like last night, and every morning to begin like ours did.

I want it all to be ours.

Your hands rise up and brush against the dips and swells of his chest. Goosebumps blossom under your touch.

“Kyle, you know this isn’t goodbye. It can’t be. I need you to tell me you understand that.”

He sighs again.

“I know, love. I know that.” His thumb wanders over the arch of your cheek. “I’m used to all this, with you. All the pullin’ away and coming back.” He chuckles bitterly, a bit breathy. “It’s just so fuckin’ hard this time ’round.”

Your chest feels like it’s split open, gaping and pouring out. But your mind, or what’s left of it, knows you need this. You need the separation from him, deserve time to think through all he’s offering, all you could barely repay him for in return.

The debt between the two of you is yawning. But if you gave in and told him yes, all you’d be left with is uncertainty.

Not even a man as perfect as Kyle can make up your mind for you.

“One more kiss before you go?”

He takes you up on it before you can say any more.

His lips are a harsh press against yours, bruising enough to leave them puffy for hours. He kisses to consume, to swallow you up and spit you out wanting more.

Gentlemanly as Kyle can be, there’s not a glimpse of it to be seen now. He’s not playing fair, at the moment.

He hooks a finger under your chin and holds you steady, keeps you close and running out of air as he slips past your defenses, the hot, wet press of his tongue on top of yours. It’s instantly dominating before you have a chance to fight.

And then he’s toying with you, kneading you back into the fray with long prods and swipes, his stubble from the morning a heady friction on your skin. He’s playing and caressing and devilishly stroking needy whimpers from you, fingers dancing along your skin, drawing circles on your skin and whines from your throat. That dangerous tongue of his performs another sweep about your mouth, then slips back. Kyle begins worrying at your bottom lip, teeth digging in so harsh and quick —

—and he tears away from you so abruptly that you gasp, can’t even see straight. Suddenly you’re cold and alone, panting and losing your balance without Kyle’s sturdy form keeping you upright.

You only realize what had happened when you hear a rustling from your bedroom. Kyle reappears seconds later, avoiding your gaze as he zips his jacket up over his bare chest, legs and hips clad in last night’s jeans.

Subconsciously, you pick at the neckline of the black cotton tee you’re wearing—his shirt, one you guess he doesn’t want back before he leaves. “You don’t want your—”

“Don’t take it off—not yet, yeah?” He meets your eyes for the first time in two minutes, and there’s little brown left to them, all dilated pupils and a consternated furrow. Even his lips, wonderfully swelled, are tugged into a small frown. “Keep it on f’me. I’ll come back for it when you’re ready.”

But you don’t know when that’ll be. How could you possibly make an unbiased decision when the damn thing still smells like him and you can’t forget that ravenous look in his eyes when he’d first found you in it?

Kyle’s hovers near the door, hand tight around the knob like he can’t quite figure out how to open it again. He glances back at you over his shoulder, lets himself take you in, take the entire scene in. He even looks back at your bedroom, where the sheets are rumpled and need to be washed. Then he settles on you one last time, jaw set, muscle feathering a bit.

“Call me. Text me. Anything, darling. But don’t you dare forget about me.”

The door closes with a slam.

~~~~~~

The first day, Gaz is sure it’s fine. You need time to think, and that’s okay. He can handle that. He’s handled it multiple times.

And, yeah, when he’d gotten back to his hotel room, he had to sit for a moment, staring at the wall. Had to replay that whole night all over again.

Then again.

He did the same thing with that morning, reimagining licking the sweat off your thighs, sliding up and burying his face into your stomach, pawing at your body wherever you’d get the loudest. Replayed the feeling of your supple palms and soft fingertips—every inch of you was so damn soft, fleshy and yielding in his hands—wandering over his cheeks, his lips, his scalp.

Fucking beautiful. Every goddamn second of it.

Gaz, that first day, tries not to linger too long on how it’d ended.

So stupid of him to bring that up. Suggest for you to move in with him when obviously you both functioned at two vastly different paces.

Isn’t it ridiculous that he can’t even bring himself to think it’s crazy? He can’t find it in him to say no, that’s bullshit, because who are you and why the hell did he ever think moving with a woman he’d only known for three months was okay—desirable, even?

So bloody desirable it almost crossed that line and became imperative.

He spends that night checking his phone, wondering if you’ll call him again, borderline tears and needy like yesterday.

That was his favorite aspect of yours so far—when you needed him, you needed him badly. You needed him while you choked back gasps and almost-sobs. You needed him while you breathed a little sigh of relief at the sight of him and jumped into his arms. You needed him with that first kiss, shy and tentative, but trying your best to imitate reckless abandon—until he taught you properly.

He’d spent that whole night watching you be shocked at yourself for how badly could want him, all confused and flushed when you’d noticed your fingers digging into the buttons of his trousers. A little stunned “o” formed on your lips when you’d dug your nails in, body trembling with exhaustion, and still begged him for more. Kyle, please. More.

Gaz only convinces himself to take a shower for the night when the thoughts become too much. He almost trips over his own feet in a mad scramble when he sees his phone flash, only to find a notification for an update.

He goes to sleep in a sour mood.

The second day goes about the same. He wakes up late in the afternoon (because, due to your midnight upset, he was still on his Middle-East sleep schedule), spends way too much time remembering and staring at his phone, waiting for a buzz or a ring. Eats his dinner and drinks in a deathly silence.

Because silence is unnerving to him now. You’ve changed that much in him. Every second spent in lonely quiet feels like a waste of his time.

But you don’t call. And you don’t text.

You don’t do any of it for the next three days.

Gaz wallows even worse. He gets antsy, goes to the hotel gym and sprints on the treadmill, because he knows if he runs outside he’ll find himself at your place. He goes to stores, buys himself another black t-shirt, same size and brand as the one that you’d worn, that’d cinched in at your waist and flared out to capture your hips and thighs.

He wanders into the bookstore next door and finds a few of the ones he’d spotted on your bedroom bookshelf whenever you’d tapped out on him. He flits through a few pages, eyes catching on the naughty words, and reads through for… wistful entertainment, at least.

Research purposes, at most.

And Gaz chuckles to himself, winking at the girls that try to wander into the section inconspicuously. The same ones who surely have as good a poker face as you, and who immediately vacate the area at the sight of an invader.

It would be more fun if it was you he was teasing. Same pink ears and face, same eyes avoiding contact at all cost, fingers fidgeting at the hems of your sleeves.

A longing ache floods his chest so directly and intensely that he has to take a second, breathe and set down the book so he can center himself again. That same flood of cognizance about his situation hits him when he’s on missions, when the victims’ sobs finally get to him or he looks too long in the eyes of a dead man.

Like he’s yanked to the surface after hours underneath the tide, and the sun shines so brightly his eyes burn. But he’s seeing and feeling everything he’d shoved deep down, knows exactly what led him to this moment.

Gaz doesn’t go out much after that.

Not the next day, or the day after that. Not even the next two days after those.

It’s around this point that he wishes you would just put him out of his fucking misery. He’s so tired of thinking of you before he goes to bed, dreaming of you, then waking up to phantom touches all over his body. He’s driving himself up the walls trying not to call you, break into your house and just steal you back to England anyway.

Patience. Son of a bitch—patience. God, you strung it out so thin with him that it could snap like a rubber band and hurt you both.

It’s midnight of the tenth day of no contact with you that Gaz’s finally got his sleep schedule under control, and he’s twisted up in the sheets, body caked with sweat.

Well, actually, he’s in Prague.

He’s rapidly approaching a target in a dusty, dark alleyway. Just before they turn the corner and get into public view—can’t let that happen, have to maintain cover—Gaz wrestles them away from the glow of the streetlamps and back behind a dumpster, kicking away their gun while he wrenches a biceps around their neck—

But it’s your voice ringing through the air. Your pleas and sobs pierce his conscious too late. Your neck snaps so loud he flinches, and all the while his mind is screaming no, no this can’t be right. She’s not the target. She’s never the target.

Gaz scrambles away, tearing off the sheets and rolling out of bed.

Jesus Christ.

He has to see you.

After that, just needs to make sure. Needs to check that you’re still in tact, your sweet neck not cracked and limp, eyes not dim and silenced.

He rises to his feet and can’t find his Goddamn socks anywhere. A yellow glow from the window lets Gaz catch himself in the mirror at the perfect moment, and he can see the thick sheen of sweat that covers his body head to toe.

You deserve better than that. Better than a sweaty, desperate man with no patience pushing his way into your house and demanding an answer, a single word, fucking anything from you.

Even a nod or a shake of your head would settle his poor heart. The damn thing aches in his chest all the time now.

Gaz slips into the bathroom for a quick, cold shower, stubs his toes against the not-wide-enough walls of the tub several times, and ambles out a bit slower and far more jittery than he’d gone in.

He’s shifting a pair of pants up his not-yet-dry legs when he spots it.

A dim flash from the hotel nightstand, where his phone is plugged in.

Gaz freezes.

Surely it’s not…

Well, it might be…

But he’d been gone for not even five bloody minutes; that’s not even fair!

Suddenly, he’s kicking off the pants and hurdling over the bed, buck-naked and scrambling for his phone.

No, no, no, no, no, no, NO.

But yes. It’s a voicemail from you. Three minutes and forty-seven seconds, and he wasn’t there for any of it.

He presses it with wide eyes and a heaving chest, and something stabs him, hard, cruel, and swift right in the center of his gut when he hears your voice.

“Wow, I’m getting deja vu.” You laugh, but it’s empty and short. “I’m really hoping you didn’t sneak off to a mission without telling me. That would, uh…” Your tone grows dreary, even as you huff another laugh. “That would really suck. But I’m sure I deserve it.”

You thought he’d leave you?

You can’t see him, and he knows that, but he still shakes his head, brow furrowed because no, no, no, he would never do that to you. Damn that evil brain of yours.

“I just… um, I just had a dream, though. Wanted to tell you about it. It wasn’t even bad so, like, I don’t even know why it woke me up.” Some shuffling, and a sniffle. “Well, I mean I do, but… okay, fine, I’ll just tell you.

“It was pretty lame. Nothing big, but I was hanging out in an apartment—a flat, you might say—which is a stupid name for an apartment, but you Brits don’t even know what chips are, so whatever. I’ll let it go.

“Anyway, I was sitting on the couch kinda bored, and then you came in. Came back, really. It’s like that background knowledge thing you get in a dream, where you only know exactly what’s going on the moment it happens? But you were back from a mission, and I had dinner and a hot bath ready, and you…”

Another sniffle. Gaz hovers over the phone, waiting for those seconds to dwindle down, needing to know how you felt when the message ended so he could call you and be…well, be whatever the fuck you needed him to be in that moment.

“I don’t know. We were about to kiss, and then I woke up and you weren’t even there and I just…hated that. The idea of that. Of you not being there when you could’ve been. And knowing that the only reason you weren’t was because I was being so stupidly stubborn.”

You sigh, then, and get too quiet for him to hear without crouching closer. “Kyle, if you still want me even at all after this, I…” You suck in a long breath, and he hears that little hitch at the back of your throat. “I need it to be slow. Slower than what it’s been. Especially if… if it’s gonna be the same apartment. I’ve never had anything like this before. Never felt it. And I’m scared of, well, all of it, honestly.

“But I’m more scared of never taking that chance with you. And you’ve been commuting to my home, my country all this time, so… you know, maybe it’s time I reciprocate. Reciprocate a lot of things.”

Then someone knocks on his door.

~~~~~~

Kyle never directly told you which hotel room he was in. But when he’d kicked his pants off and you’d watched them soar over your bedroom floor that night you’d called him over, you’d laughed into his kiss at the sight of his wallet, his key card, and some loose change rattling across the floor.

The next morning, you’d picked it all up while he was in the bathroom, where he was hopefully not glaring at the impulsive hickey you’d given him. You’d snagged his t-shirt for yourself, some womanly, possessive part of you wanting to squeeze yourself into his clothes, whether it would fit or not. You’d felt like a damn fool crammed into it—until Kyle saw you for the first time, and the look he gave you made your stomach clench.

You’d organized the rest of his things onto your dresser, only eyeing the room card, and the number sharpied on the back, passively.

Room 428.

You knocked on the door now, pulse thump-thump-thumping against your eardrums.

An “Oh fuck” was muffled and low through the door.

It didn’t sound like you’d woken Kyle up, and you admit that you’d been seriously considering the fact that he might’ve left for a mission while you were in AWOL mode. A bit of luck, really, that it was actually him, still here after ten days of radio silence.

But you’d know that gruff, British grumbling anywhere, and your body began to tremor. Small, at first, in your fingertips and toes. Then your knees felt a little loose as time went on and all you could hear from Kyle’s end was quick footsteps and the snap of fabric. By the time the door whipped open, your every breath came out stumbling, like waves over jagged rocks.

And Kyle…

Oh.

Oh, Goddamnit.

Ten days was too long for both of you.

Because Kyle, for all his effortless handsomeness, was a wreck. Untidy stubble’s laid claim to his jaw and throat, and his lips look bitten raw. Deep-seated crescents curve under each eye, lined and dark and angry. He’s draping himself against the door with the black curls on top of his head in complete disarray, and watching you with a low-lidded gaze.

Gaunt, worn, weakened. Like the life has been drained out of him.

But it’s still Kyle. There’s a phantom of his old self in his form now, a tautness to his shoulders and neck, slight bend in his knees, vigilance in his whiskey eyes. You’ll have to reel his spirit to the surface.

Looking at him now, though, it hurts to think you’re the one who’d done it to him. So damn hard to believe that he takes absences of you like shots to the heart. It’s lovely, to be so wanted by Kyle Garrick.

Harrowing, too.

There’s a learning curve to holding his tender heart in your hands and trying not to squeeze it too hard, too often, but you get the feeling you’ve been treating it like a stress ball. You forget that he keeps himself at this rough idle for you. That he always carries soft, warm feelings all the time, and lets them fester behind the velvet steel of his abdomen.

“Did you get my voicemail?”

He nods a little.

“So you heard that I…?”

Another nod.

The air is thick and straining with his silence. All he is right now is two eyes watching you and ten long fingers flexed against the door, features bordering on unreadable.

But there’s yearning. There’s always that fierce yearning with Kyle.

You lean a little closer, don’t quite know whether to be disturbed or flattered at how his nostrils flare when he suddenly sniffs.

Then he hums, low and deep.

“Peaches,” you mumble, recalling months ago, a staunch memory of his words about your perfume.

“Tha’s right, bunny,” he mutters. His fingers peel off the door before he lurches toward you, a lovely swoop in your gut when he hauls his arms around your waist, tilting his face to yours. He takes another sniff, this one nestled against the top of your scalp. “It’ll smell like peaches.”

When Kyle takes a step backward, his arms remain iron-stiff around your back, dragging you with him. Step for step for step until you’re in his hotel room, kicking his door shut with the heel of your shoe.

His hand rises and sweeps back the hair stuck to your neck, already slanting his lips over your pulse point, teething at the skin. “My flat,” he whispers. Then he scoops up your jaw, tilts your head to the other side and reattaches his mouth to the next indent in your throat. “My bedroom.” Another readjustment of your head, aligning himself just below your chin, your head tipped all the way back, blurry, blissed-out eyes locked on the ceiling. “My sheets.”

“Kyle.”

His fingertips dig in hard enough to leave purple dots against your lower back. “All of it’ll smell like peaches. Like you.”

You pry him off with a tugging grip at his damp hair, only slightly intrigued by the water droplets that you now notice litter his skin.

A bit too busy trying to think back to why you’re here, outside of getting his hot mouth all over you again, to try and care about something so minor.

There’s an indignant huff against your bobbing throat before he draws back. Kyle looks damn near put out by the fact that you hadn’t let him keep sucking distractions into your skin, and his teeth bare slightly when he grumbles, “What is it, love?”

Lest you forget Kyle first and foremost loves to grope at the plush of your thighs, he does so now, mindlessly, detrimentally to your train of thought. “There’s—there’s so much to figure out, Kyle.” Your words are more like a sputter, wild spilling past your teeth. “There’s getting my stuff there, and passports, and visas. Things that take more time than how long we’ve known each other.”

The golden gleam of his smirk almost takes you out of commission. One second he’s bitter about his mouth and the lack of your skin against it, the next he’s pulled back far enough to meet your eyes dead on, confident like he knows you inside out.

“Bunny, when you first started to walk, did you go ’round asking everyone what running felt like instead of trying it?”

You… don’t know what that means. Like at all.

And you’re fairly certain you wouldn’t be able to figure it out even if you weren’t exhausted from four-hour sleep and the wandering of calloused fingers.

“Kyle—what?”

The deep timber of his chuckle floods your ears like spools of silk. It’d almost be mean if it wasn’t the same playful laugh he used to give you from across the counter, one hand on a drink, the other reaching for yours, and if he hadn’t done it with little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“I just mean…” he pauses and strokes at your thighs a little slower, “that all of this has felt so bloody natural. Like I’m made to be doing this. Like I’m learnin’ how to walk all over again. And you…” One hand departs, rises and encompasses your cheek, thumb swiping over its swell. Kyle’s features soften. “Love, you make me want to run so badly.”

Your hands fist against his chest, but you know he can still feel the quivering that’s begun. That slowly showers over your body, tip of your skull down to the bottoms of your feet, electrifying and frightening.

You say his name again, startled at how much you want him.

He’s not wrong. Not even close. Being with him is like warm sweaters, or old socks, or scuffed shoes. Things that always just fit.

But it’s new, these butterflies frenzied in your stomach, this chain reaction of shivers and sparks of pleasure and licks of sweet heat.

New, and timeless. Confusing, and so damn easy.

“I’ve got connections, love. And so much time for you. All the time in the goddamn world.” His hips press into yours, and once more, he begins to sway.

And, once more, you follow suit.

“And there’s bars aplenty in England, love,” Kyle whispers the words against your forehead. “If that kickin’ little mind o’ yours feels like it has to repay me—pain in my arse, but I’d let you do it. Even though I wouldn’t mind it if you could just sit in my apartment and look real pretty. That’s always on the table for you.”

“Definitely off the table, Kyle.”

“All right, all right, fine.” He peppers kisses over your face. “So long as you’re there each time I walk through that door, yeah?”

~~~~~~

Gaz can smell it from the hallway.

The heavy scent of chocolate and those pretty candles you love to light, along with a lingering hint of peach. The door to his flat towers, ominous and contingent, like if he doesn’t open it now, any second it’ll slip away and he’ll be back on the field, gunsmoke thick in his eyes and throat.

Coming home is always a little hard.

He’s unwinding vertebra by vertebra, trying to fracture himself into small enough pieces to fit through the door. And there’s the crotchety stiffness of his limbs, too long for these halls, too sturdy for a scene soft as this.

Gaz shoots for quiet and hits dead silence when he twists the knob. Slips through the doorway and takes in this little fault he’s discovered in reality, phenomenon he’s kept under wraps for the past year or so.

Because entering the pocket dimension of his flat is nothing short of ascendant. Every damn time.

The air in here is velvety smooth and warm. Not unbearably, for July—it almost feels like the warmth of a sweaty palm still interlaced with his, making his body all syrupy slow. The lights have been dimmed and everything in view from the doorway is more shadow than actual features. London, like the determined sadist it is, is gray and drizzly outside each of his wide-open windows, helping none with his search.

That is something he’d had to bargain for—open windows. Gaz doesn’t mind the subpar reward any creeper might receive peeking into his home, but you weren’t as convinced. The task to win you over had become almost insurmountable when he’d grown too greedy in the living room and you, with eyes only barely comprehensive over his shoulder, locked gazes with an elderly woman across the way and screeched.

But he’d won, and it seemed you honored your promise now.

Speaking of you, he doesn’t even spot you the first look-around. Even as his nerves meld into the sleek familiarity, panic splices through his gut when he glances once, twice, then thrice around. You’re not running toward him like he desperately wishes you would. You’re not hovering over the kitchen stove, or digging through the fridge. You’re not even curled up in the window seat, sipping on a steaming mug.

Gaz knows he was quiet, but he didn’t know he was too quiet.

It becomes increasingly obvious that you’d had plans to greet him.

Because not only is his favorite meal still sitting over the burner, and the kitchen’s covered in dirty dishes, but you’re lounging on the couch, plush thighs crossed one over the other with a book in hand, clad in fantastically sparse lingerie of frilly black lace that leaves meager gaps for his memories to fill in.

With a stuttering breath, he fills the gaps in tight.

Your lazy fingers scrape at the corner of a page, then you flip it with a bored sigh, shifting a little by hooking your heel over the top of a sofa cushion, splitting your legs wide so he can see—

His pack drops to the floor with a thunderclap of noise.

Your body jerks all at once, a quick shriek splitting the viscid atmosphere in half.

Your wide, prey eyes latch onto his while you grapple at your chest, book having been launched halfway across the carpet. “Kyle, you son of a—could you have been any quieter? What the hell?!”

He barks out a laugh. The potency of your voice saying his name is already swimming through his mind, and he reaches back and closes the door while you rise to your feet. “Sorry, love. Next time I’ll just crawl through the window, yeah?”

“Fuckin’ may as well have,” you grumble, adjusting the stringy straps of your bra. Your skin is all blank and pale right now from months of his absence, white space where amaranthine marks should be.

Four months. The longest the two of you have been apart, and every step you come closer that heady scent of your perfume prickles its way up his spine.

“My sweet little bunny, precious love of my life—what have you been up to, hmm?”

Your hands slot on your hips, and you pout up at him. The build-up of energy crackles all over his skin the longer you stand so far away from him, but you’ve still settled for a lecture instead of a kiss. “Well, I had this whole plan where I’d feed you and bathe you, and then we’d fuck like rabbits, but I guess that’s out of the question now.”

Gaz snickers, the abject disappointment raw on your face. “How is that out of the question?”

“Timing’s off and you ruined the whole sexy vibe I was aiming for.” You fold your arms, and Gaz shamelessly drags his gaze down from your face. “You really suck, you know that?”

His lips part in that effortless grin you so easily drag out of him. “So sorry, love. If you come over here, I’ll be sure to apologize quite thoroughly.” Gaz lifts his arms, holds them out and gestures his fingers enticingly. “I’ll have your forgiveness in a matter of seconds.”

Your expression’s all stubborn and prickly, but you sway forward a little anyway. “I…” You grunt and stomp toward him, let him wind his entire body around you, and relax a little when his palms massage and dig into your shoulder blades. “I really did have everything planned,” you mumble into his chest, fingertips all twisted up in the back of his shirt.

Gaz is starting to get an idea about what’s going on.

Only about half the candles are lit throughout the flat, the majority of which are near the bedroom. The bathroom light is still on, door opened a crack, but there’s unpacked bath bombs strewn about like you gave up halfway through. Even the kitchen is more messy than usual after the nights that you cook. Only half the pots and pans look actually used, the rest an anxious jumble of utensils and ingredients he knows you didn’t need to make chocolate-chip pancakes alone.

It looks like you were distracted. So very terribly disturbed by something that you could only commit half a mind to all your ideas.

With him, you’re rarely left to your own devices for this long, and it shows.

Gaz can see it, feel it, and practically smell it all over you. Despite his embrace and what should be relief about his return, the muscle and tissue all over your body are pulled taut, bowstring-tight and ready to pitch forward at any second.

He hums, feels the tension in your spine only grow as he draws little circles against your skin. “I know, love. I see it. Candles, and the dinner, and the bath.” He kisses your forehead, grins wider when all you do is huff and puff. “Did so well. I know it’s hard.”

It only serves to wind you up more. “I’m supposed to be the one massaging and calming you. Feeding you and taking care of you after your mission. This is…” you hiss a curse, nails scraping at his waist now.

“S’okay. I’ve been through this hundreds of times.” His fingers dance a little lower, teasing that arch in your back that you curve a little harder against him. “I know exactly what you need, bunny. Sort you out so you can get back to your plan, yeah? Just need you to let me take care of it.”

“I don’t…” you shake your head. “I don’t know why I just—I mean, all of the sudden it’s you, and I can’t—”

You fall silent so fast when he shushes you, presses a too-short kiss to your lips. Already, he can feel the verve traveling through your very bones. He lets his words brush along your lips when he repeats his promise.

“Know jus’ what you need. Let me handle it.”

~~~~~~

You’re straddling his thighs with a fork in hand, watching in a satisfied stupor as the plate balanced on his chest rises and falls at a rapid pace.

Sticky, flushed, and sated all over, you saw off another sliver of pancake and hold it up to Kyle’s lips. He accepts it greedily, lets his head knock back against the headboard with a euphoric, close-lipped smile.

He hadn’t been… wrong.

Which is to say, you’d somehow managed to get yourself so worked up in his absence that the second he returned, all you’d wanted to do was jump his bones, sans any of the prelude you’d planned.

A warning would have been nice, now that you think about it. Anytime around four months earlier when he’d first begun preparing you for his absence without you even knowing it, would have been superb.

Instead, he’d let it fester in you, like he’d planted himself a gift, fruit ripe for the plucking at a later date.

You want to be mad.

Can’t quite bring yourself to, though.

A bit too… preoccupied.

There’s still sweat dripping at Kyle’s temples when he cleans off the plate, hands still squeezing in distracting patterns around the meat of your thighs.

“Fucking delicious, love.” He laves his tongue at the corner of his lips. “My two favorite meals.”

“You’re horrible.” You scramble off him unsteadily, trying to keep both you and the dishes in your hands balanced. “I should get a bar of soap for that mouth of yours.”

Kyle laughs first, then groans, swiping his hands down his face. “If you’d said that shit in the barracks, love…” he calls after you, tutting in the distance while you deposit the plate in the sink. You almost trip on your skimpy lingerie set from a couple hours ago while stumbling your way back to the bedroom.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” You raise a brow at him even as you tug on his arm, drag him out of the bed and down the hall.

After it all, Kyle had insisted you keep up the plan. Didn’t want that guilty conscience of yours to fester and, even worse, those pancakes to grow cold. He’d poked at your cheek, voice slurring a little from exhaustion as he whispered, “Gotta stay awake, love, or your li’l rabbit heart’ll feel all sad tomorrow.”

So you’d rolled off the mattress and made the trek back through the apartment, and, admittedly, you started to feel guilty about the mess you’d left during your hazy planning earlier.

You recalled trying to think of ways you could impress Kyle but not being able to think clearly after slipping on the lacy panties; too caught in imagining how he’d tear them off to really notice how half-baked the rest of your plan was.

And how all you could think about was him serving you, which really wasn’t fair. It’d been over a year since you’d started living together, and when he went off on missions, it was an unspoken promise on your end that you’d welcome him back in calm and comfortable ways.

His first few missions had been just that—romantic kisses and big, sweeping arcs of hugs; slow dances around the living room and the kitchen, sweet, bubbly champagne with dinner.

All you’d managed this time around was half-assed pancakes, lacy panties, and a cold bath that you hadn’t been patient enough to finish prepping.

You remember that you hadn’t even been exhausted today. The opposite, really. You’d been buzzing from head to toe the moment you got his call, mind too frantic to ever really stick to your old habits.

Kyle kneels down beside you outside of the tub, three bath bombs encompassed in just one of his absurdly large hands. The other is curling your hair around a single index finger. He’s patiently busying himself by touching you, playing with some part of your body or other like he’s always done.

One morning he’d had an absurd obsession with your left heel, and he’d nipped at the tendon out of sheer curiosity.

You’d almost kicked him square in the face.

But he gets new little obsessions with you all the time. Each day, he’s poking and investigating at a different part of your body, and he always—always—has to feel it against his teeth.

And you let him. Even now, as he hinges his jaw around your shoulder.

A true adventurer, unafraid to explore with all that he is. Wants to discover every little thing in a million different ways.

You lean forward and wrench the faucet off, then pat at Kyle’s cheek. “Bath bombs, please.”

When he thunks them in the water, the air in the room floods with lavender and chamomile. The tub’s still fizzing purple when he clambers in and hauls you in after him, slowing your descent into his lap just enough that only a bit of water dumps over the edge.

A long, drawn out sigh ruffles the loose hairs atop your scalp. Kyle’s hands sweep all the way up to the underside of your breasts, then way back down to the middle of your thighs, back and forth, back and forth. For the most part, you try not to move, try to let the aches melt away with the heat.

You drop your head back into the crook of Kyle’s neck and shoulder, tipping your face a bit to look at him.

Everything’s fuzzy. Pleasant. Legs and arms weighed down by gratification, gut slick with sated heat. And your heart thumps wild and proud, bum-rushed red and gold. Natural and gleaming. Normal and perfect.

“Can we stay like this forever?” Kyle asks again, a lifetime later. You’re only one year wiser when you nod yes, of course, how else would we be?

He burrows you deeper against him, trying to meld your skin into his because it’ll never be close enough. Touching and bruising and biting only mollifies it, this wonderful new appetite only Kyle can feed.

It’s crumbs of food, or the tiniest sips of water.

Or spare oxygen.

Kyle hunches over you, hard body slipping against yours. Soughs, like you hit just the spot.

“Can’t believe you kept gettin’ away from me before all this. Tested my patience so bloody much to get here, bunny.”

You smile, tilting your head and pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. “It’s your best virtue, Kyle.”

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #cod gaz #gaz cod #gaz garrick

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rookthorne · 9 months

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

Today was the day — your birthday, but how would the many Bucky’s treat you? With a lil’ bit of nice? Or a lil’ bit of spice?

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ֎ Bucky Barnes x F!Reader ֎ Stucky x F!Reader ֎ Bucky Barnes x F!Reader x Winter Soldier

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ֎ 2.9k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ֎ Fluff, Possessive!Bucky, aftercare ჻჻჻ SMUT: Unprotected piv, oral (F recieving), face sitting, car sex, bike sex, cockwarming, monsterfucking, multiple orgasms, Dom/Domme/Brat/Sub dynamics ჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, degradation, daddy, sir, mommy, choking, breeding

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ֎ This is all thanks to an ask from my wife, and I thought... fuck it, balls to the wall, all gas no breaks, I am gonna write 18 smut scenes in like, 2 hours for my birthday because why the fuck not. ֎ This is rushed writing to the extreme.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ֎ Confident by Demi Lovato

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 ֎ @buckets-and-trees — bless you, babe, you took my insanity in your stride!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 ֎ Biker!Bucky Barnes — Brotherhood & Bullets ֎ Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes + Bodyguard!Winter Soldier — Staya Volkov ֎ Drifter!Bucky x Drifter!F!Reader — The Queen & The King ֎ Farmer!Bucky Barnes — Peaches ‘n Cream Ranch ֎ Firemen!Stucky — Built Differently ֎ Incubus!Bucky Barnes — Depths of Pleasure ֎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes — Sturdy Roots, Strong Hearts ֎ Mafia!Bucky Barnes — His Empire, Her Rules ֎ Artist!Bucky Barnes — The Queen’s Masterpiece ֎ Mechanic!Bucky Barnes — His Girls ֎ Modern!Bucky Barnes — Written in the Stars ֎ Nurse!Bucky Barnes — A Hero ֎ Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes — Progress, Not Perfection ֎ Pirate!Bucky Barnes — Sins of the Seven Seas ֎ Pornstar!Bucky Barnes — Purity ֎ Street Racer!Bucky Barnes — Brooklyn Pride ֎ Tattoo!Bucky Barnes — Inked Sun ֎ Viking!Bucky Barnes — The Skógr

֎ 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬

Biker!Bucky had been a menace the whole day – constantly hanging off you and smiling the whole time. His little coos of, “My birthday girl,” or his, “Can’t wait to spoil you when we get home,” were the least of your worries, not when his hands wandered. You slapped them away and tried your best to get on with your day and the celebrations, but…

The moment you walked through the door of your shared home, Bucky manhandled you and trapped you between the door and his body, then the wall, and finally, the kitchen counter where he bent you over and forced your thighs apart with his warm, callused, tattooed hands. “Been waitin’ all fuckin’ day to get a shot at your perfect pussy, sweetheart–daddy’s been hungry, and you’re gonna let me treat my girl right on her special day.”

If you couldn’t walk straight the next day, well, it was a good thing you opted to work from home.

֎ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯

James and Bucky, at their core, were doms – men that were not easily on their knees for anyone, except for you. What you had wanted, or craved, certainly determined how they treated their Kitten and Kisa on her special day.

A dominant mindset lead to them falling to their knees and worshiping the ground you walked on, taking turns to fuck you with their tongues and cocks until you couldn’t think of anything but their names. “So fuckin’ pretty like this, isn’t she, babe?” Bucky growled, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he fucked you into the mattress. James hummed and increased the pressure around your throat. “She takes you so perfectly–such a good kotenok,” he purred before he kissed your temple.

A submissive headset led them down a path of treating you with such softness and love it kept you on cloud nine for the entire day. Your every whim was catered to, and you were never empty. “So soft, Kisa,” James whispered before he kissed your forehead. You giggled and curled closer to him, your shoulder against his chest while his cock throbbed in your cunt. Bucky ran a hand up and down your back, his touch ticklish against the skin of your sides when his fingers strayed too far.

Bratting was something you did not do often, but if you felt particularly rebellious that day, Bucky and James did not begrudge you a little bit of chase, a little bit of punishment. It was not possible to outrun the two of them, but you still gave it your all.

And, If you ended up tied up and spread out on the bed, at their mercy, well… That was your endgame.

֎ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠

The day was full of a tousle for control – Bucky bargained and growled, while you gnashed your teeth and fought back, but no matter what, it ended up with you both sprawled on the hood of your Skyline, or in the back seat of his Hellcat. “Your pussy is beautiful, fuck, baby,” Bucky moaned, pistoning his hips harder and harder while you screamed his name.

֎ 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 ‘𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡

Farmer!Bucky had put extra workers on for the day so he could stay home to fuck you senseless in every room of your farmhouse. He also made sure you never lifted a single finger – not even to cook, or clean.

“Such a pretty Peach for daddy, huh?” Bucky drawled, his pants for breath heavy in your ear as he fucked you up against the wall of your bedroom. Clothes were strewn everywhere through the house and you had lost your mind four orgasms ago. “Takin’ me so well–like a dream, angel.”

֎ 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

Both Steve and Bucky were absolutely incorrigible on the big day. You found yourself tied up and filled with a toy if they had to pause from fucking you to eat or answer a call, or god-knows-what-else. Steve was the gentler of the two – his praise in abundant supply, while Bucky doubled down on his dominant persona and railed you within an inch of your life.

“She’s such a good fuckin’ slut, isn’t she, honey?” Bucky asked, his hand around your throat while he thrusted his hips hard enough to make you hiccup on each harsh pump of his cock.

Steve caressed your cheek from his vantage point beside you, then kissed his husband for all his worth, throwing off his rhythm. “That she is,” Steve whispered in reply, his breath heavy.

Of course, the day and night had been broken up by unmatched softness – both of them kept you fed and hydrated, comfortable and sated; never wanting for anything.

֎ 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

Incubus!Bucky was insatiable. Excuses were constantly thrown around to make you compliant: “Your pussy is sweeter on a day like this, honey,” he cooed, or he trapped you against the bathroom counter as you cleaned your face, “Why clean up that pretty face a’yours now, sugar? You’re jus’ gonna be covered in me soon enough–daddy knows this ‘cos you’re his good girl, aren’t you?”

The night started with you on top, riding him until you began to drool and whine that you needed more. Bucky took control then, flipping you under him and forcing his cock back where it belonged while he growled, “Your tight, wet cunt is jus’ beggin’ for this, isn’t she? I bet she’s achin’ for more–beggin’ to be filled with daddy’s cum.”

His wings rustled and shuddered as his hips sped up, and saw before the umpteenth wave of pleasure crashed over you the wide of leather and bone, curving inwards and cocooning you between Bucky’s scathingly feverish body and the mattress. Not to mention, his tail – the way it thrashed and curled against your calves as he pumped his cock deep, before he moved the limb so the pointed tip thrummed against your clit in time with his thrusts.

֎ 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Lumberjack!Bucky was an artisan of slow, but hard sex. He took his time taking you apart, utilising the whole day in his cabin – not a singular surface free from his insatiable lust. The floor was strewn with wrapping paper from you opening your presents earlier that morning, and it was a maze to navigate without tripping.

When he finally managed to get you into the bedroom, Bucky finally shattered you. “Such a good girl for me, bunny–fuck, your cunt is so tight,” he gasped, forcing his cock back in as you throbbed and pulsed through another climax. “Tha’s it, sweetheart–let daddy in.”

You moaned and thrashed under his bulk to no avail, and he only forced his cock deeper with a, “Don’ you fight daddy, little bunny, your pussy was made f’this. Now, fuckin’ take it, slut.”

֎ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Your birthday was an extravagant affair – though, if Bucky had his way, galas and parties would be thrown for the entire month, and it wasn’t that you minded the idea, but, you wanted Bucky all to yourself. Especially for the day in question.

The morning was filled with slow, sensual sex. “Somethin’ for my Princess to smile about through breakfast,” Bucky whispered as his face disappeared between your thighs, his tongue drawing intricate patterns over your clit with as much lethal precision as he lined a shot with a rifle. You fisted his long hair in your hands, the new diamond bracelet he gave you the night before sparkling in the morning light.

For the rest of the day, Bucky kept you on his lap, and he left it to you to decide whether you wanted him to fill you up, or for him to just hold you as you watched silly, cheesy movies while you nibbled on your favourite snacks.

That night, Bucky took you apart using many of his techniques and tools, all while ignoring your pleas for him to let up, to stop. “No, you can take it, kotenok. Make daddy proud.”

֎ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞

Bucky knew for certain that you liked taking control and handling the reins both in life and behind closed doors. He presented himself at the foot of your bed – knelt on the carpeted floor with his head bowed in submission. You cooed and purred over his obedience, and you grinned wickedly when he blushed or shied away from your appraising gaze.

“Such a pretty boy,” you praised as you ran your hand over his broad shoulders. “Mommy could ride you all night, Puppy, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.”

“No,” Bucky whispered, gazing up at you with widened, blown eyes. “Wan’ that, please, mommy. Wan’ you to use me–it’s your day, wanna make mommy feel good.” The more he spoke, the further he slipped into sub space.

“Oh, pet,” you whispered, bending at the hip so your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “It is mommy’s day, and all of what I’m going to do to you…”

֎ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

There was no chance in hell that Mechanic!Bucky had let you leave the bed – not even for replenishment. “You’re gonna lay there for me and look pretty, don’t need that gorgeous head a’yours worryin’ ‘bout a damned thing, sweetheart.”

Bucky had been rough in his actions, fucking you with abandon and only once he had made you cum several times on his cock, did he cum himself with a dull roar and pumped you full of him.

Since he had an agreement with your assortment of toys, he took one and worked you up to the point of hysteria while his softened cock hardened once again in your cunt. “Tha’s it, baby. You take your cock like the good slut you are–only good for breeding, aren’t you? Only good as a fuckin’ fucktoy for your sir to keep his cock warm.”

And only when you had become a quivering mess beneath him did he let up. You watched through half lidded eyes as he lowered his heaving, sweaty chest to yours, and he kissed your nose. “Happy birthday, doll.”

֎ 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬

Given that Bucky was a well adept man at noticing cues and tells, you couldn’t help but feel nervous as the day drew to a close. It had been pretty ordinary – Bucky had taken you for lunch, a movie, and then to a bookstore with the order to, “Run wild, sweetheart,” (truly a man after your own heart).

Once home, Bucky had walked you down the hall of your apartment with a small, suspicious smile, and then opened the door of your bedroom to reveal the entirety of the space covered in rose petals and blazing candles.

“Baby, I’ve got some scenes I wanna play out with you,” he purred into your ear, hands moving to cup your hips. It was then that you saw spools of rope piled neatly at the head of the bed and cuffs on the bedside cupboard. “And, I thought, why not use this for research?”

For hours, Bucky had pulled orgasm over orgasm out of you, and suffice to say, you had plenty of material for the next scene you decided to write.

֎ 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨

Nurse!Bucky was a soft, pleasure dom to the very core of his being. For the whole day, you had been tended to, held, and loved on – it wasn’t much different to a normal day, per se, bar the addition of ballads he hummed while he held and swayed you against him in the kitchen, or the living room.

Bucky kissed your neck and whispered against your skin, “Daddy wants to treat you, baby–c’mon, let’s go to bed.”

You giggled and followed him to the bedroom where he stripped you slowly, kissing every inch of bare skin he could get to before he directed you with a simple, “Lay down on your back. Spread those thighs for me, honey.”

For the rest of the night, you had come undone on his tongue and his cock respectively. Each orgasm he pulled from you made you cry and whine to the ceiling, but he never let up. “Just take it, baby girl–that’s it, good fuckin’ girl, honey.”

֎ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Soft and sweet was an understatement for Personal Trainer!Bucky. His plan had consisted of forcing you to sit on his face for the entirety of it, and then when you refused with the excuse of you felt too heavy, or you didn’t want to hurt him, the kicked-puppy, offended expression was far too hard to ignore.

“Excuse me?” Bucky scoffed. His hands were rough as he tugged you up his chest, and you let out a yelp of surprise. “You think that you can deprive me of what I want–what I fuckin’ deserve?”

“No, Buck- I, it’s just I-” You stammered, gripping the headboard to steady yourself. “I’m too-”

“If you fuckin’ tell me that you’re too heavy, or that you’re goin’ to take away my pussy,” he growled, face set in a frown. “I’m gonna get pissed, Bubba. Now, sit the fuck down. Do not hover.”

֎ 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬

The Captain had made it expressly clear to the crew that any disturbance to his peaceful relaxation in his cabin that evening would end up with a third eye. You watched with a smirk from your perch off the port bow as they scuttled to their stations, the sun set over the horizon painting the deck of the ship yellow and orange. Anticipation was thrumming through your veins like a cyclone on the open sea, like a flaming torch in a tavern.

When you retired for the night to Bucky’s cabin to wait for him, you found him there already waiting for you. “Arms,” he ordered briskly. You offered them and Bucky tied your wrists together with a length of soft rope.

“You going to fuck me, sir?”

“You have no fuckin’ idea, Treasure,” Bucky purred, pointing towards the bed. “Get that cunt up in the air for me–wanna see how many times your Sir can get you to cum before you pass out.”

֎ 𝐏��𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

Every trick of the trade had been pulled from the depths of Bucky’s mind when it came to your birthday – especially considering he had learned you were weak for his voice and the way he praised you to the high heavens for making a mess on his cock. “Tha’s it, kitten, soak daddy, c’mon,” he encouraged. “Give it to me–give it all to me.”

That night was no different. You were admittedly nervous in the beginning for what was to come, but Bucky had continuously assured you that it was going to blow your mind – something you were inclined to believe. “But what if you-”

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. His frame hovered over you while his cock slid through the wet lips of your pussy, the slick, lewd sounds made your heart race. “This is all about my girl, and my girl is gonna lay there while her daddy fucks her so good she won’t be able to speak. Now hold on.”

֎ 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

The look out Bucky had taken you to for a date had become a favourite spot, and for your birthday he had gone all out – this time letting a room in the expensive hotel just down the road.

But, the real fun had happened in the back seat of his Skyline – the sex fast and hard, just how you both loved it, a desperate clash of tongue and teeth as he fucked you up against the leather upholstery. “Such a good girl for me, baby,” Bucky praised, panting against your bitten lips. “Takin’ me so well, c’mon, let go for me–let go so I can feel it, sweetheart.”

You screamed to the roof of his pride and joy while Bucky shouted hoarsely into your neck as he fell over the edge with you. “That’s it, that’s it, baby girl,” he soothed as you came down, kissing your forehead. “And this is just the start–went all out for your big day.”

֎ 𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧

The Harley between your legs rumbled with familiarity as Bucky rode towards his home, the place the two of you had frequented more often than not. “Almost home, Sunshine, baby,” Bucky called over the growl of the bike, and you squeeze his middle in reply.

Just as Bucky pulled into his garage and pushed the kickstand out so the bike didn’t topple, you paused. He wasn’t rising to stand nor dismount his beloved Harley. “You okay?”

“No,” Bucky answered, taking off his helmet and placing it on the handlebar. “Be better if I had you sittin’ right in front of me so I could fuck you on my Harley.” His tattooed, ringed hands reached for you and pulled you back towards him, and you whimpered. “Now, c’mere so I can make a mess of my pussy–it’s her day after all, too.”

֎ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐨𝐠𝐫

Bear wasn’t a man of celebration – that had been evident when you learned that it was the day of his own birth and he made no effort to bring attention to the fact it had even passed. It was a different story when it came for your own birthday, though.

You were in his lap when his hand wandered closer to the apex of your thighs, the light of Mani above the only thing illuminating your place in the grassy clearing. “Bear?”

“A little bird told me that today was your day, Mouse,” he reflected, his hand moving to squeeze your hip. “And, I must admit, I had hoped I could open that sweet pussy of yours with my fingers on this fine evening.”

You squealed in shock as Bucky lifted you and forced your thighs either side of his. “What better way to celebrate the day of your birth than to take you for my own? Have you howling for me to the moon for all to hear?”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes oneshot #rookthorne's works

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gemini-sensei · 5 months

Text

In hindsight, sleeping with your best friend in a one-night stand wasn't the smartest idea. Reader contemplated that as she stared at the variety of pregnancy tests on the shelf, trying to figure out which one would be her best option.

Beside her, her best friend was reading on his phone.

Then he pointed at the shelf. "This one should be it."

"Like, it's one hundred percent legit?" she asked.

Hawk grabbed the box of two ClearBlue pregnancy tests and started reading the back of the box. After a moment, he said, "Yeah, this is it."

"Then let's get it."

When they walked up the the cashier, the woman - not too much older than them, probably just out of college - didn't say much. She told them how much it was, gave them a bag, and then said, "Good luck, you two."

Reader felt that. It sent a shiver up her back as she walked to the door. Hawk carried the bag with their single box of two pregnancy tests. He opened the car door for her and she glared at him, then slid into her seat and slammed the door shut.

When he got in, he put the bag in the backseat. "I know you're not weak if that's what you're thinking."

She huffed. "Then don't open doors for me."

"Excuse me for being gentlemen-ly," he sighed.

They didn't argue further. It was only a distraction from what they were really facing. They drove in silence, not even listening to the radio. The ride wasn't long and the pair of friends found themselves wishing it was longer, so Hawk took them to get lunch and brought it back to his house.

The entire time they ate, the bag with the box inside sat on a chair. Reader kept eyeing it, feeling as though it was watching her with no eyes. What it meant as it sat there was more than she could really picture or really encapsulate it. There was something scary about it, something neither she nor Hawk would talk about.

Instead, she thought about how they got there, eating fast food on his couch while they procrastinated the inevitable.

They'd hopped into bed together a few weeks ago on a whim one lonely night. Usually, two best friends sleeping together ended in the two becoming a couple but that didn't end up happening for them. They just didn't talk about it and thought they never had to talk about it again, but low and behold here they were having to talk about it and the potential outcome of forgetting to use condoms.

Hawk threw a balled-up wrapper in the to-go bag and turned to Reader. "You ready?"

She looked up at him, sucking down her drink. "No, but I'll do it."

He gave a nervous smile. "I mean, you kind of have to be the one to..."

"Yeah, yeah," she said and sighed. She slammed her drink down, stood up, snatched the bag from the chair to her side, and started walking to the bathroom. She only hoped he didn't see the way her hands were shaking before she slammed the door shut. "Goddammit."

After several minutes in the bathrooms, Hawk came to the door and knocked. "You know, you don't have to do this alone."

She opened the door and looked at him. "Good because I can't look at it. Just fucking look at it."

He nodded and slipped past her. She stood there, unable to turn around and even look at him as he looked at the tests. She'd taken both just to make sure, to be two hundred percent certain.

It was quiet for a moment and Reader closed her eyes, waiting.

Then she felt Hawk come up behind her. He put his head on her shoulder and his hands slipped around her waist, coming to lay on her belly. That was how she knew.

"Goddammit," she whispered, eyes brimming with tears.

"Hey hey hey," he mumbled, rubbing her waist and looking at her, but she wouldn't look at him. "Reader... Reader, look at me."

She still wouldn't, so he turned her around by her hips and held her. She stared at his collarbone instead of him, tears slowly slipping down her cheeks. He gently squeezed her wide hips in an attempt to get her attention but it didn't work.

So he took her face in his hands and brought her eyes up. "Hey, it's gonna be okay."

"It's not okay, though," she cried, hands shaking at her sides. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be."

"What do you mean?" he asked softly. He looked over her face, never wanting to see her like that. She was his best friend, of course, he didn't want her to be upset. "What's wrong?"

"You're my best friend. We're not... we're not together. We can't have a baby," she told him, looking away from him. She caught sight of them in the mirror and saw the way he held her waist, held her close, in his strong arms like he was supposed to protect her. She shook her head and cried.

He turned her face to look at him again. "It doesn't have to be like that."

She sniffled, trying to calm herself down. "What do you mean?"

"I love you, Reader," he told her.

She shook her head again. "You're only saying that because of the baby..."

"You're my best friend," he said, holding her firmly. "That doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you, Reader. And I should have told you that the night we slept together, the night I should have made love to you so you knew that. It wasn't just a one-and-done for me, but... I didn't know how to say it before."

She stared at him, still crying. He wiped her eyes with his thumbs and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around her securely. He held her curvy body against his muscled chest, holding her safe and sound as he kissed the side of her head.

"We've got this," he whispered. His lips rested on the side of her face sweetly. "I've got you."

She calmed down slowly but surely. Once she was sure she could speak steadily, she took a deep breath. "I love you, too, Eli."

He pulled away from her and looked at her, then brought her into a kiss. She gave it back in full force, putting a hand on the back of his neck. It was deep and passionate, pulling them from friends to more. It was safety and love and like coming home.

He started leading her to the bedroom, never breaking from her lips. One hand slipped up her shirt while the other pushed the door open, carefully leading her. She carried special cargo now and he wanted to get her to the bed easily but didn't want to stop kissing her. She was too tantalizing.

But as she undid his pants, he knew they had time. He'd get to make love to her like he should have done a long time ago.

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piratefishmama · 8 months

Text

Beware The Thorns | Part 7

“So you don’t have a name, or a number, or even a picture, all you have is the gut feeling that someone ratted you out to your little boy toy and you want me to what, to find this mystery person?”

“Exactly. And don’t tell me you can’t, your lot found Brenner hiding in a repurposed missile silo on a whim. Someone told him, Robs. I wanna know who.”

“Uhuh, and what if no-one told him?” Robin sat down beside him on the fluffy rug at the foot of the couch, leaning back against the firm frame of the couch, cushions atop the base soft against her shoulders “What if he just did what employees do sometimes and quit.” It wasn’t impossible, Eddie was an employee and nothing more. Not really. Even with the emotional connection, the feelings, Eddie was at most an employee. “He’s gotta keep things professional right? What if he really did just feel like things were getting too real? It’s been years Steve, it’d be damn near impossible to not develop real feelings by now.”

She’d come within half an hour of his call, traffic delaying her a little, had taken stock of his state of being, and decided that fun would have to wait, and as usual… she was right.

Steve let his hands push up through his hair as he sunk his head lower into them, then lifted it back up again, hair a mess. “But... why? Why would he wanna keep it professional if he could have real?”

“Oh Stevie... some people—some people don’t want real. Real doesn’t fit their lifestyles or their emotional states, real doesn’t really... work for where they are in their lives and Eddie... this is his job Steve... he couldn’t keep doing all he’s known for years if he takes the real that you’re offering. It’s one or the other and... and relationships aren’t guaranteed to work. They’re not guaranteed to be for life and if he’s giving up his entire livelihood, his entire way of life, no doubt something he’s trial and errored to get to where he is... he needs security in that and let’s be honest here... can you give him that security?”

Steve looked at her, eyes so full of sadness because no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even claim that Eddie would be safe. All it took was one deal going south and someone deciding to be vindictive about it. All it took was someone with a vendetta picking Eddie out of the line-up of people Steve cared about.

All it took was one shot, and no amount of vengeful violence would bring him back and it’d be Steve’s fault for not letting him go. Steve had always been so good at letting things go, he’d let people go so many times before, but Eddie?

He didn’t want to let Eddie go. No matter the danger it put him in, was that selfish?

Was that wrong?

Absolutely on both counts.

He truly didn’t care. He’d given up so many things to get to where he was in life, he wanted to keep this one precious thing. Call him a petulant child, he didn’t care. He wanted to keep Eddie.

“I—”

“Before you answer, think very hard, Steve… you answer will determine exactly how much respect you’re going to get from me in the next five minutes.” He shrunk back in on himself, Robin meant the world to him. And he knew he meant the world to her too, it was an unquestionable fact. They were a package deal even if they did different things in life, she would always be part of his, and he a part of hers.

Eddie had been the only partner he’d ever had that’d welcomed her in, never questioning her presence or demanding to know their history. He’d been the only one to respect them for what they were.

A package deal. Bonded amidst a tense hostage situation. Platonic soulmates.

And as soulmates, she kept him in check, knew when he was preparing to walk directly over an unseen line. Knew when to pull him back. “…No. I cant.” She softened tenfold, her arm curling around his shoulders, she gently pulled him in to lean against her. “But… I want to be able to. I can’t let him go, Robin… I just—he’s just—” he was everything.

He made coming home worth it.

Made that empty apartment feel like a home when he was there.

“Steve…”

“I love him, Robs…” he felt empty without him. “I shouldn’t have to give up the people I love, what’s the point in doing what I do, if—if I’m not happy?” What was the point in anything he did, if he got nothing but sadness, nothing but loneliness, emptiness out of it? It wasn’t like he enjoyed the criminal aspect of his life, he’d entered it out of necessity, out of obligation, out of a duty to his parents legacy.

He’d been moulded and shaped into the person he was, raised to be what he’d become. He’d had no other option than the one he’d taken.

“You love the idea of him, Steve… you love the version of Eddie that he showed you, but what do you actually know about Eddie Munson? Other than he makes spectacular pasta and noodle dishes.” Robin knew quite a bit about Eddie Munson, but that was more private research than something she’d been asked to gather. Anyone who got close to her soulmate got a full background search ran on them.

It was just something she did. She knew he came from a broken family, knew he’d been raised by his uncle in a trailer somewhere in Hicksville Indiana. Knew his father had passed away in jail after a prison riot had gone awry. She knew his uncle was still alive, and that his mother lived in California, that he hadn’t had contact with the woman since he’d gone to live with his uncle.

She knew he had an extended family thanks to his uncle being in a relationship with a woman named Claudia Henderson who had a younger son named Dustin. She knew he’d grown up poor.

She knew he wasn’t perfect, knew he was rougher than he led Steve to believe, than he led everyone to believe, she knew where he lived. Where Claudia and Dustin lived, where Wayne lived. But that was her information. Her carefully gathered information.

Steve didn’t need to know any of it unless he did need to know it. And in that moment, he didn’t.

Steve frowned, eyes drifting back to the fluffy rug, his expression thoughtful yet frustrated. “It doesn’t matter what I know about him… have you ever—have you ever seen someone, and just felt… light? Like you could just float away? Have you ever walked into your apartment, and just felt infinitely warmer because that one person, that one special person, was there? Like just their very being was making your empty apartment feel like a home?” No, she hadn’t. He knew she hadn’t, he’d be the first person she’d have told had she found someone like that.

“No Steve, you know I haven’t…”

“I just wanna hold him… he fits perfectly right here” Steve wrapped his arms down around his own legs, pulling his knees up to rest his forehead against them. Eddie fit perfectly in his arms. “I don’t care that I don’t know him for real, Robin… I care that I want to know him, I want to put in the work to know him, I want to be safe for him, for my life to be danger free, just so he can be here… that’s gotta mean something, right?”

“It means you’re not thinking straight, Steve… it means you need more sleep, and maybe a little time to think about what you’re saying, to process what’s happened. I mean, let’s be honest we both know that making huge life decisions after a heartbreak is a bad idea, you have people that depend on you.” People who were safe purely because they ran under the Harrington name. “People who need you to be the person you are.”

People who needed the protection that that name came with. The protection that Steve gave them by existing in his inherited role.

“…Can you at least ask around, poke a few haystacks to see if something falls loose?” Maybe if he proved that someone had told Eddie, he could just… take out his loss on that person, or try and show Eddie that there wasn’t any danger, that he’d never hurt him, that no matter what he knew, he’d be safe, he didn’t have to run or hide from the big bad wolf hiding in sheep’s clothing that was Steve Harrington, he could stay, the wolf loved him, it wouldn’t hurt him.

If he’d just made the decision on his own then…

What could Steve do?

Robin gently brushed a stray strand of honeyed brown from Steve’s face, offering a small, sad little smile “yeah, Dingus… I’ll see if anything falls loose, you just… you get some rest okay? Don’t make any big decisions without consulting anyone first, alright?” Even though he was the boss and could do whatever he wanted. He nodded. Robin was his voice of reason. “What will you do? Tell me.”

Robin was his one guiding star. “I’ll talk to you first.”

“That’s my big doof.”

Part 9

#PirateWrites #BewareTheThornsFiclet #No Upside Down AU #Steddie #Escort!Eddie #Shady!Steve #Platonic Stobin

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chiriwritesstuff · 3 months

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Random Headcanons from Random Characters in 'The Girl in IT' Pt. 3 - Minor Characters

Have you always wondered how Tess came to work at Miller Construction Group? Or how Ellie ended up being adopted by Joel? Here are the headcanons for the rest of the gang at Miller Construction Group! Read Joel's and Sugar's lists!

Tess Servopoulos:

Tess actually met the Miller Brothers by chance. She was fresh out of a divorce and went to Austin on a whim- they met at a pool hall. She did have a minor attraction to Joel - before he met Sugar, but their tempers and clashing personalities never allowed a romantic relationship to flourish. Joel helps Tess by giving her a Job, which gives her the fresh start she was desperately searching for.

For those curious, she and Joel have never been intimate with each other, not even a kiss!

She IS slightly jealous of Sugar, though. I think it's more because everyone sees a different side of Joel with her around, which solidifies the fact that Joel never saw Tess as a potential romantic partner.

Joel also helped Tess further her career by paying for her MBA.

Tess lives in Joel's old house (in the show). It is completely renovated, of course.

Tommy Miller (& Maria):

Tommy is the Construction Superintendent for Miller Construction Group. He's the man on the ground, managing the project from the site.

Before Sugar, Joel would never watch porn at work, but Tommy would. He once disabled the entire company server with a virus, and their old IT specialist, Gloria, subsequently quit afterward from all of the stress.

Tommy would sometimes "spy" on Sugar before she started to work for the company. If he saw her in passing, he would mention it to Joel, asking him why he just doesn't get his head out of his ass and just talk to you.

Maria is the official "office mom". She runs the odd errands, offers to pick up lunch for people, and acts as a recon for Sarah. Like Connie, she knows everything that happens in the office.

Joel and Sugar are not the only ones who fool around in the office...

Sarah Miller:

Sarah is slightly younger than Sugar (Sugar is 36, Sarah is 32). Sarah was initially weirded out by this fact but being that her husband is older than her by ten years, she's a lot more open to her relationship with Joel. She also found an old Polaroid photo of Sugar in Joel's nightstand drawer once while looking for something, and she tells herself that she won't get in the way of her father's happiness.

She is married and has one child, making Joel a grandfather. Sarah's husband also works at MCG as an Electrician. They had a secret romance - Joel had walked into her office, catching them making out which led to him punching him out. Her eventual husband then spends a year trying to convince Joel that he is in love with Sarah, and only ends up relenting when he witnesses a sweet moment between the two of them, realizing how happy Sarah is with him. Joel still gives her husband a hard time, though.

Sarah kept her last name after she got married.

She has a bachelor's degree in communications.

It is rumored that Sarah was only placed as the head of HR only because she had to keep cleaning Tommy's messes (because let's not forget- he watches porn at work too), and Joel didn't feel comfortable with an outsider handling their business.

Ellie Williams-Miller:

Ellie moved to Austin with her Guardian, Marlene. Marlene was hired as the Head Architect for MCG, so Ellie was always hanging around the office in her youth. When Marlene suddenly passed away when she was 14, Joel felt like he owed it to Marlene to adopt Ellie. This happened five years after Joel met Sugar, which makes Ellie 19 going on 20 in TGIIT (I did age her up a bit).

Ellie loves music and noticed Sugar with her Sennheiser Headphones in her office, naturally, she waltzed into her office asking about it. They bonded with their love of music - Ellie feels comfortable enough with Sugar to talk to her about her problems. Sugar is the person she comes out to first, asking her for advice on how to approach Joel with the topic.

Ellie has a crush on Riley, an engineering student working under Bill.

When Ellie finds out about Sir Bubbles (Sugar's cat), she begs Joel to help her make a cat tree for Sugar's birthday. This cat tree is massive.

Ellie is tattooed, just like how she is in TLOU 2. She got her tattoo at the same time Joel got his - she drew the Sunflower that eventually ended up on his hand.

If Ellie didn't apprentice for MCG she would like to be a tattoo artist.

Bill & Frank:

They are married.

Bill teaches a self-defense class for women, including weapon handling.

Frank is an interior designer.

Frank has a secret group chat with all of his fellow gossips in the office, including Maria and Connie.

Bill cooks for all of the company meetings and seminars. He refuses to be compensated every time.

#The Girl in IT #The Girl in IT Lore #The Girl in IT Headcanons #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us

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release-the-hound · 7 months

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as a havanese owner, what would you say their energy levels are like? trainability? grooming needs? looking into getting small dogs in the future and havanese are on the list of possibilities

I think part of the reason Havanese are so wonderful for so many people is that their energy levels are extremely variable. A well bred Havanese should match its energy levels to its owners for the most part. There are days where I have only taken Whim outside to potty, and spent the rest of my time sick in bed, and she has happily cuddled up next to me and slept by my side. But she has also happily galloped alongside me for a 5km run, and been eager for more. Ultimately what Havanese want more than a specific amount of activity, is to be doing activity with their person.

Of course, I always celebrate doing more with your dog. I try to give Whim at least a 20 minute walk daily. Along with minimum 5 minutes dedicated training session and a food puzzle for enrichment. Often I am able to do more than that.

(One if my favorite off-leash adventures with Whim. A 3 hour walk through unusually deep snow. So many sniffs and lots of excellent recalls!)

When my sister died, I was frequently doing less, for weeks. And she didn't devolve into a frustrated barking mess, didn't chew up my apartment, she was a little bored, but she was never miserable. She just lay in my bed, by my side, day after day, until I was ready to face the world again.

(I cannot overstate how good Whim is at cuddling. If there was an international competition for it, she'd win it every year.)

I really think for disabled people, Havanese have the ideal energy level. You can meet their base needs fairly easily, but if you are up for adventure they're always ready to come along for a ride.

(Whim travels frequently on airplanes with me, and is always complimented on her good behavior.)

Grooming needs are the sticking point for many people, unfortunately. While Havanese are genrtically capable of producing a short coat, it's against the breed standard, and so I don't know of anyone intentionally breeding for that.

For me, a non-shedding dog is worth extra grooming, but I know that's not the case for a lot of people. I have Whim shaved about every 4 to 6 months. This means that I go over her coat to comb out any mats about once a week, and I trim the fur out of her eyes on occassion. But other than that, I dont worry about grooming. I bathe her when she's stinky and trim her nails when they get long, which you need to do with every dog. I know @girlhorse keeps Enzo in a much fuller coat. If you want to keep a fuller coat, she might be willing to talk about the grooming experience.

It's also worth noting that due to their small size, combing Whim's fur is like, a 20 minute process.

(I often miss Whim's coat from when I kept her long. She was so unbelievably adorable.)

Havanese are my FAVOURITE dogs to train bar none. I'm not a professional trainer in any sense of the word, but between group classes and my job I have seen how a lot of dogs learn. @thelittlespanielthatcould and I often compare Havs to a CKCS with a little more spunk. They are very clever and very eager to work with you, but when they have an opinion they make it clear.

Whim can be entirely focused on me for an hour long lesson. But she won't do work she's not fairly compensated for. Personally, I like a dog that won't let me push them around. If it's a hot day and I haven't given Whim enough water breaks, she'll march herself over to her bowl whenever she damn well pleases. If I'm not using a high enough value treat, she will take it from my hand and spit it on the ground. I like these things because I like dogs that set their own boundaries. I want my dog to tell me when she is tired or thirsty, when I'm not rewarding enough, when she's frightened. Because I get clear feedback from her on what I'm doing wrong, I can alter my methods very quickly to keep us in sync. I like that my dog can tell me something so clearly and I can say back to her "ok, I'm listening."

Whim does very well in Rally when I can afford the classes. She loved agility. Havanese also make great trick dogs. They have amazing handler focus (once they mature). They love spending time with you, so they love training. You just have to be fair to them. I guess I'd describe them as eager to engage, but not eager to please. She wants to spend time with me, she wants to play my games, but she isn't afraid to stand her ground if she's not having fun. Training her brings me so much fucking joy. Even writing about it now has put a smile on my face.

(Whim and I had so much fun in agility. She loved the tunnels so much she used to go off course just to run them a second or third time. Until I started bringing out the big guns (cheese) and suddenly she was an angel again lol.)

Realistically, no breed is ever going to be ideal for every person on the planet. But 2 words come to mind when I think of Havanese. Fexible: they thrive in many different living situations, energy levels, and activities. And Communicative, about their needs, their desires, their fears, their pain. They make it easy for dog owners to figure out what to do. For these reasons, I think Havanese match well with a lot more people than the average dog breed.

Whim has been my best friend for more than a decade. I have never second-guessed my decision to bring her into my life. I wake up every day knowing that I am profoundly loved. In my brightest moments I picture a future of adventure unfurling before us. In my darkest, her joy reminds me how to find my own.

TL,DR: Get a Havanese.

#sorry this is long and sappy and maybe excessively pro-havanese #but the thing is they are just. so. SO GOOD.#Whim has been my heart for 12 years. I adore her.#get a Havanese. the only decision with a 0 regret rate.#(i cant prove that but i know it in my soul)#Look at her! Hiking! Skiing! Agility! Obedience! Tricks! she can do it all!!!#i love my dog so much you guys #whim the havanese #havanese #dogs #dogblr #alt text #havanese pawpaganda #anomymous #asked and answered

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nabanna · 12 days

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lord help us all I've been given a reason to think about Dracula novel/Drizzt series crossover

I love following canyourfavesurvivecastledracula (I especially love seeing characters I'm not familiar with on there) and they recently got an ask about my little guy Drizzt Do'Urden but didn't know all that much about him BUT YOU SEE (unfortunately for everyone who knows me in any way) this is a crossover of the two major fandoms that have become my entire personality in the past year or so! so as someone who's eagerly awaiting the return of Dracula Daily Season AND reading multiple of the Drizzt series books as we speak (simultaneously! help..) and considers him a blorbo to tenderly and lovingly put in the microwave to watch him dodge the radiation like an ant, I'm taking a crack at it because this looks like fun :D

Making my own post because this is purely to be enrichment in my enclosure and also it's.. gotten So So Very Long.. also pouring one out for my other account where I normally would post this sort of thing that I simply cannot log into anymore for mysterious and unknown reasons. (Literally it's still like There and I can See It but trying to log in takes me to 'make a new blog' pages and... wait I'm silly I think I know why. the email died. no idea how to get back in without the email.)

ANYWAY

To the thought experiment:

Could Drizzt Do'Urden Survive Castle Dracula?

Short answer: Yes, it's not a fun time for him, he saves the baby though!

Long answer:

Using the blog's stated general criteria...

Overall approach to the supernatural:

Is an elf, knows what a vampire is, however D&D vampires work differently from Dracula vampires so he would not have all the information on that front if it came to a confrontation. (Knowing the Drizzt books, it would definitely come to at least one fight or at least a tense chase sequence.)

Also depends on how quickly he clocked that this is, in fact, a vampire, and whether Dracula could catch on to him catching on and spin things in a way that kept Drizzt relatively chill OR decide it's time to strike (which he could probably escape) (though now I'm thinking about Vampire!Drizzt....... no no I shouldn't.... unless.....)

The presence of Guenhwyvar (constellation panther BFF my beloved) would afford him some protection other than Dracula's whims, and companionship which is Very Important as he has been known to go feral without sufficient friendship.

Probably takes all the local superstitions very seriously because where he comes from if someone's like "there are ghosts that come out on certain days" and "there are monsters in these woods" they mean it very Very literally.

Dracula's general inhuman behaviors he could take in stride and adapt to pretty well I think, he's known a lot of really eccentric people and is from Fantasy Zone, so the idea that Dracula isn't human wouldn't be scary or even all that weird. Vampire, yeah that's sus, but just non-human? you walk past a hundred non-humans on a single street in most cities where he's from. Many of the eccentricities might be explainable just by going "Ah, he seems to be some kind of wizard. Yeah that checks out." Doesn't seem to be sleeping on a normal schedule or at all? Drizzt does that too! Sees too well in the dark/doesn't seem to use lights much? Darkvision and light sensitivity, same! Moves inhumanly fast? A little concerning but why not. Tells stories from centuries ago as if he was there? Elves do that all the time and it's because they were, in fact, there. (Also some human wizards do all of that too, just because.)

Now because things work differently between these two settings I'm not sure how much his general familiarity with things in the Forgotten Realms would help him here, like he's taking it all in stride but does he know how to protect himself against a Dracula-type vampire? Does he know magic is so incredibly rare and (apparently) usually evil or does he think this is just an unusually magic-less region?

Whether they would accept the crucifix from the old lady:

He is a polite young man so yes of course he would, and because the lady doesn't know what a drow (or an elf?) is, she probably wouldn't think "evil!!!" like most of the common folk in the Realms do, so much as "weird-looking (yet androgynously beautiful) young man" or depending on the local superstitions may assume he's some sort of fey being? or just like, really exceptionally foreign foreigner.

Assuming she still offers it, he would accept it despite not knowing what sort of deity it's for, because he recognizes it's a token of goodwill and he loves expressions of goodwill. Would definitely go and write about it in his little diary to both wonder what she's so afraid of/what sort of protection it affords, and also gush about the kindness and possibly whether this expands or aligns with his current understanding of morality.

This plus the other Superstitious Behaviors would clue him in that something's up so he'd be going in with that knowledge, prepared to figure out what's going on and what the villagers are so afraid of.

Whether they would go exploring after being told not to:

100% and he might even be stealthy enough to mostly get away with it!

Demonstrably does not like being restricted, only went along with this stuff when he was younger because the indoctrination ensured that he literally had no idea there was any other option (also his dad sparred with him daily to get his energy out so his zoomies were managed)

If Dracula really truly wanted to discourage him from any particular places he might just need to come up with an explanation, but he might also be entertained enough by Drizzt's sneaking and snooping to let him roam and see where it goes. Drizzt is better at stealth than Jonathan but they have different flavors of wet cat charm which Dracula may want to handle differently.

Depending on how you read the scene with the vampire ladies trying to "kiss" Jonathan, like how much of it was vampire charm making him feel kinda into it or potentially more of a paralysis situation, it could go differently just because Drizzt may or may not be able to break out and run away very fast, or just kinda endure it while feeling Really Bad And Gross about the sexual overtones. (Based on instances such as him resisting drugs and exiting the room as fast as possible when a priestess was coming onto him, and going feral to push through a paralyzing poison to prevent an assault on another person.) (I read him as incredibly demisexual and he demonstrates being sex-repulsed to everyone outside of the very short list of people he's actively very close friends with and attracted to.) (His feral side has been known to come out in these types of situations but not all of them and it wouldn't necessarily always work either.)

The girlies would not put him off of exploring for very long but he would likely be trying to avoid all possible run-ins with them from that point forward. Unfortunately for him he is a tasty little guy and I think the girlies would actively mess with him against Dracula's orders, perhaps in part because he's an elf and they find that interesting and engaging. Enrichment for their enclosure! Horrible time for Drizzt. Exactly the way the vampire squad likes it!

Verdict: He has a bad time but he's gotta run around he has the zoomies. Dracula could possibly prevent this, if he wanted to prevent it, by letting him into a training yard of some kind so he can get out his energy.

Ability to manage the whims of a Rich Jerk / hold Dracula's interest:

This one is harder and probably depends on the circumstances of him going to the castle, like what his goal there is, and around what point in the timeline he's at. I haven't gotten through all 30-something books just yet but my answer is Probably?

Just the fact of him being an elf and having some innate magic abilities could possibly be enough for Dracula to find him interesting enough to keep around. He's not a wizard and his innate spells are mostly harmless, more battlefield management than anything, so he's not magically a particularly powerful threat to Dracula, just decently interesting. He could also go on about how magic works where he's from, though going on too much about his inherent drow magic would make him uncomfortable (which Dracula would probably like) and especially like, if he got into the ins and outs of Menzoberranzan specifically.

He would definitely bring out the active listening skills for Dracula's history and war stories. Might want to get examples of any particularly interesting fighting maneuvers. I wonder if Dracula would indulge him in a spar or let him practice? The castle must have a training yard somewhere, but would he let Drizzt keep his weapons/borrow some?

Usually good enough at reading the room to determine when is or is not a good time for the scimitars and the panther (combat mode) to come out.

Not the most charismatic, but insightful and clever. (autism-ass elf. elftism.......)

Raised in a very controlling environment with a strict social hierarchy where he was simultaneously part of a high-ranking noble family but also as far down the social ladder as he could be otherwise (male, youngest child, was supposed to be assigned spell component at birth, doesn't like conforming) so, again, he wouldn't like it but he could probably manage it.

Partly depends on how much effort Dracula is willing to put in to make the Friendship believable and keep Drizzt in the dark, or if he's interesting enough to more carefully balance a web of manipulation around.

I'm gonna say this point gets a Yes

Assuming he realized the vampires are Bad but too dangerous to 2v4, he would be so uncomfortable for most of it but is also funky enough that Dracula would probably find his discomfort and weird-but-trying-to-be-so-polite mannerisms entertaining. Dracula would decide this is his blorbo now. I may be biased but this is tumblr so actually Dracula himself said all of this to me personally in DMs.

Facility for climbing without gear (free soloing):

Lizard fashion? Spider fashion...

He Is On The Walls

Multiple points in the books involve him sneaking around places by climbing on walls and I believe elves are canonically, in general, weirdly good at parkour. So yeah!

Whether they would choose to risk being eaten by vampires over the certain death of being eaten by wolves:

IF he has weapons, the wolves aren't really certain death because he is a whirling tornado of death, I am so sorry wolves. If not then he might be able to parkour out of their way? He probably wouldn't want to fight the wolves though, because he is a disney princess nature lover and would rather free them from Dracula's control if possible.

Depending on how much he could figure out about how vampires work here, he may have some ideas for how to turn a fight against them to his advantage or otherwise.

Wait, this happens after the baby incident, right? If so then he's not getting to this point plot-wise, though he might have come back to try fighting the vampires after saving the baby, and depending on how he's doing that, he might still have to contend with the wolves at some point.

Decision: Doesn't want to go against the wolves at any point, but if necessary, he can out-parkour them.

General analysis from Me:

Main counts on the original post are accurate! He accepts the cross, survives the social situations as long as necessary, and escapes with the baby to give it back to the villagers upset but otherwise intact.

As soon as he realized the vampires were menacing the locals to any extent, he would decide to figure out a way to free the area of their evil. Unfortunately the best way for him to figure out anything about the vampires is to stay in close quarters with them for a little while. He has been known to pretend to side with an enemy to gain information or an advantage in a fight, but I'm not sure how long he could keep it up.

Dracula might string him along with Friendship (Drizzt loves friendship so much if he doesn't have friendship he will explode) but he would have to get his baby-eating roommates to play along and behave or else they could easily freak the guy out too much for it to remain believable.

Either way, Drizzt is not staying in that castle beyond the point of another person (the baby) being put in danger. There's at least one point in the books where he's protecting a baby while fighting some enemies and he always puts the baby's safety first. Also Guen can respawn, so if it's absolutely necessary to, she can get taken to 0 HP distracting the vampires while Drizzt improvises some way to get out of there with the baby intact.

That's as far as "survive Castle Dracula" usually goes because well he got out of the castle alive but now I am also thinking about possible plot beyond that point...

First of all the villagers?? Assuming they saw him as Really Weird Foreigner or perhaps some sort of fair folk rather than Literal Demon Spawn the worst they'd do is probably be very tense and silent after taking the baby back and let him leave uncontested without welcoming him in. Best case scenario is some or all of them, or at least the baby's mother, being grateful enough to help him out a little. But like what's he gonna Do after that? (Also if the villagers think he's some sort of fey guy then would they think there's something up with the baby now...)

I mean he knows there's baby-eating vampires in that castle now and he's very against the idea of leaving baby-eating vampires around. Even if he can't 2v4 all of them plus their minions he'd wanna do something about that. (2v4 rather than 1v4 because Guen counts as one) Would he try to gather allies to assault the castle? If he learned that there's times when he can expect them all to be asleep in their coffins would he try to just go back in and stab them in their coffin-sleep? Would he leave the area if he knows the local people are still in danger or would he reason that he needs to find help and come back?

(Also raising to myself the question of whether this is "specifically only Drizzt has been isekai'd into the novel Dracula" or if there's perhaps a little more crossover type setting blending, or if others from the Realms are in there, is Elminster around I know he's canonically been to Real Life Earth, would Van Helsing have some kind of tangent about how this has allegedly happened before, there's an implication that vampires aren't even Van Helsing's favorite cryptid what if d&d type elves are actually higher on that list and he knows all about them, is it even possible to put something resembling the plot and characters of Dracula into a D&D setting, what if I could make a Domain of Dread out of this–)

No matter what happened, Drizzt would be writing SO many diary entries which is perhaps the true main reason why he would survive, he's got that journaling and diary-keeping swag just like my good friend Jonathan Harker

(This is all assuming he has Guen because if he didn't have Guen he would wilt away of the Miseries. Might un-wilt specifically to save the baby and then re-wilt as soon as he remembered there's no kitty.)

#drizzt do'urden #dracula #drizzt #me #my posts #maybe I shouldn't be putting him in the microwave... he has metal on him usually...#this got so long help me #perhaps there is a point where I should just write a fanfic but then again I would 100% get caught in the setup #but this isn't even getting close to 'what if Drizzt met Jonathan' levels of blorbo crossover perhaps that energy would carry me through #microwave addendum again I remembered the ice scimitar gives fire/heat resistance but would that help in a microwave?

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 1 year

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levi drabble? no. 12 please <3 ooh but flip the tables, its levi saying it or dont- okay i cannot decide-

I LOVE THIS???????

also i hope i characterized him okay enough lol. i'm writing this at work in between clients soooo

come torture me with this drabble challenge!

#12: "i wish you wanted me"

Want | Canonverse Fluff Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1k ✧ notes ➼ canonverse, captain!reader, mutual pining, this accidentally turned into a oneshot lol

"Captain? Captain, your orders?"

The scout's voice seemed muffled. All of Levi's senses seemed muffled. His gaze was only fixated on one side of the forest, desperately trying to pick up any visual or auditory cues.

"Captain?"

Levi finally got dragged back into reality with that third prompt from his subordinate. Having been fixated on only one thing, anything discussed within the past 5 minutes had been completely disregarded.

"What?"

"Your orders? There are Titans approaching from the left and right flanks," the scout said nervously.

It wasn't like Levi to be this scatter-brained. He always knew what it was that he had to do and he most certainly never missed out on vital information that was being told directly to him. He was overly distracted and it was affecting his ability on the field.

You were currently fighting on the left flank. Another newer squad was fighting on the right. He knew which side he had to go to for reinforcements.

He desperately wanted to go to yours. He wanted to make sure you were safe. He knew it wasn't anything other than a foolish, selfish emotional whim. You were more than capable of taking care of yourself and your squad. Strategically, he had to go to the right flank to maximize their chances of survival.

After clearing out the Titans, the Survey Corps formed a small fortified camp to rest and patch up any wounded before continuing the expedition.

You were currently in front of a campfire with your cloak and uniform jacket thrown off to the side. The only thing you kept wearing was the tank top that was usually underneath your uniform. The only reason for this was to expose your right bicep, which had gotten deeply scratched during your battle fending off the Titans. You had spent the last hour having Levi patch it up after he noticed you struggling to do it on your own.

He was awkwardly quiet the entire time, as if something was deeply on his mind.

"Did your squad do any better?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He grunted. "Not really, but at least no one died."

Simply being able to come out of an expedition without anyone dying was a miracle. Although no one on your squad died either, it was primarily because you had to go in multiple times to save them yourself. It probably would've been more efficient if you went in alone.

"You should really re-evaluate your squad," Levi said bluntly.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you scowled at him.

"Don't be so arrogant," you scolded. "Not everyone has the advantage of your bloodline."

"Tch," he responded in irritation. Every single time someone attributed his capabilities to his Ackerman heritage made him want to punch something.

"It's not that," he said, matching your tone. "My squad doesn't need me to constantly risk my own ass to save them."

You rolled your eyes.

"Well, good for you, Levi. I'm glad that you're satisfied with your subordinates," you said dryly. "Can you quit being dissatisfied with mine?"

He let your arm go and set the bandages off to the side, irritated by your unexpected commentary.

"I'm not joking around, _____. You shouldn't have to be constantly risking your life out there because of your subordinate's mistakes."

You groaned and slightly pushed him away now that he was no longer treating your arm.

"Why the hell do you even care so much?"

Deep down, you knew. Deep down, he knew. It was quite a while ago, but you both could recall a time in which you two were dancing around the concept of romantic feelings for each other.

Of course, it never progressed to anything. It wasn't appropriate and you didn't want to start a scandal. He was still your superior at the time.

Levi parted his lips to speak, but it took a few seconds for any words to come out.

"I can't stop thinking about you when you're on the field," he said quietly. "And it's a pain in the ass to not be able to focus."

You blinked at him, confused as to where he was going with his comments.

"Why?" you asked. "Am I doing something wrong? I'm not your subordinate anymore, remember?"

He exhaled in almost what seemed like a defeated fashion as he looked away.

"I just," he said with his voice barely audible, pausing as if he was unsure if he should mutter the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

"I wish you wanted me."

Your eyes widened as those deeply buried thoughts and feelings were brought to the surface. You had assumed that he had moved on. After all, it has been some time that you had been promoted to a Captain yourself, yet it was never brought up.

You looked down and shuffled a bit, adjusting your position to be a bit more comfortable.

Finally, you looked up at him, seeing that he was now glancing at you too.

"Who says I don't?" you said quietly before shooting him a small smile.

You saw a sight that you never thought you'd see.

Levi Ackerman was paralyzed. He looked like he couldn't move. He looked like even if you reached out and pushed him off the seat that he'd remain unmoving.

Levi was not expecting your response. He had continuously told himself that you weren't interested and that anything resembling a confession would be a waste of time and would only bring him shame. He wasn't expecting anything good to come out of it.

"I'd be lying if I said that I never thought about how much I want you to want me too," you said, shifting a bit closer to him, placing your hand on his.

Feeling your touch oriented him back to reality as he looked into your eyes. He didn't know how to process this. He had held onto that feeling of rejection, telling himself that he never wanted to feel that way again and that he wouldn't put himself in that position again.

He never expected anything good to come out of those words that he had muttered—but it did, giving him something new, fresh, and hopeful to hold onto.

A/N: this is the pouty face i imagine him making as he says the line ;aljf;alksdf he's so cute i can't

#drabble challenge #kats oneshots #levi ackerman #levi ackermann #levi heichou #levi x reader #kats levi fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #levi ackermann x reader #aot reader insert #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi ackermann x you #levi heichou x you #levi fluff

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doctorbunny · 8 months

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Kazui's armband from Cat

Last night someone in a discord server came in dejected they were unable to read the armband Kazui and Hinako wore during cat, they couldn't get a good angle to screenshot it

So on a whim I looked some stuff up in my dictionary and typed "警察腕章" (Keisatsu wanshou/police armband)

This was the first result and it looks pretty close, the text is 捜査 (sousa) meaning search, its specifically a word used more in criminal investigation than say looking for your missing sock, but whilst the left kanji is promising there isn't any sign of the right one in the original screenshot so back to google

This is more like it! 捜一 Souichi, a word that is not in my dictionary and one of the first results for searching it is 読み方 (how to read)... Good news people who want to specifically cosplay Kazui and/or Hinako in their cop uniforms for some reason, because there's a lot of the above armband for sale online on amazon, mercari and probably anywhere else that sells stuff under 撮影用 (satsuei you/use in filming/photography) I also kept getting search results for actors/police dramas so I briefly considered the possibility Kazui and Hinako weren't real cops at all, but I don't think that's the case

It seems 捜一 is a shortened form of 捜査一課 (sousa ichi ka) Roughly translating to 'Investigation Department 1' [note, 捜査一課 can also be written as 捜査1課, the version with kanji vs arabic numeral seems interchangable, just for additional confusion]

To oversimply an entire system. Japan's police tend to be split into 4 main departments 捜査○○課 Department 1/捜査一課 deals with murder, robbery, assault, abduction/kidnapping, false imprisonment, sex crimes and arson Department 2/捜査二課 deals with economic fraud Department 3/捜査三課 is also robbery but like smaller stuff like purse snatching Department 4/捜査四課 deals with organised crime Basically when it comes to the case of 10 people being abducted and held in a prison outside of Japanese law for several years under threat of execution That's a job for Kazui and his wife's department!

Bonus fact idk if its relavent, but the 'kazu' in Kazui (一威) is spelt with the kanji for 1 "一" ... I guess his parents knew which department they wanted him working in lol

#kazui mukuhara #milgram #ミルグラム #milgram theory #milgram translation

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shuttershocky · 1 year

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Mahoyo's glimpses of mage culture was fucking wild.

Touko casually reveals that she's done what mages have always considered impossible by grafting the magic crests of every mage who's ever tried to kill her into her back AND made them functional, giving her access to the powers of entire families, and the cast thinks "My god! What horrific things has she done to the poor mages who tried to kill her? She must have ripped them apart and kept their brains alive in jars, forced to endure eternal agony while their tormented souls continue to power the crests she wields! Truly such sickening things would only befit a mage of her level!"

Then Touko's like "What the fuck, I bought them all off after defeating them then invested all my savings into an apartment in London to house them all now that they're disgraces. Half my time goes into seeing to all their needs and requests so that they're as happy and contented as possible which lets me effectively use multiple crests at once. I will kill if I need to, but wanton cruelty is actually highly ineffective."

And then Mahoyo's all "Tsk tsk, BEGINNER mistake from Touko, thinking about human rights and compromises, she's breaking ground on several different fields of magecraft at once and is literally the only Grand mage we have in the modern era but imagine how if she was more like us"

___

It's even wilder when Aoko is like "I wonder, Touko could have just killed grandpa and then me any time she wanted to take her inheritance back. Grandpa's a frail old guy and i was just a little kid, just murdering us, her family, would have been so much easier than whatever she's doing now"

And Soujuurou's all "You're not considering her feelings Aozaki. It's not about the inheritance, it's about how she underwent harsh training all her life to be made the mage heir of the family and then got thrown out on a whim and the inheritance she suffered all her life for got given to her little sister instead. She didn't kill you then because killing you would mean nothing, she wants you to experience the pain of suffering for years because the family told you to only to have what you worked for snatched away instead."

And then Aoko AND the narration go "Oh Soujuurou oh you sweet summer baby naive idiot child that's how a PERSON thinks. Does Touko look like a person? No, she's a MAGE. Feelings mean nothing to us. You are insulting her very existence and pride by insinuating she can feel things like "grief". No, she definitely went out into the world and then randomly changed her mind about losing the inheritance and came back only after I could put up a fight."

AND THEN THEY DO THIS A FEW MORE TIMES

#Mahoyo spoilers #Spoilers

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buckyownsmylife · 2 years

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Ulysses - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy wants you to overcome your submissiveness so you can humiliate his wife

Warnings: smut, humiliation of a third-party (Laurie), cuckolding/cheating - they really thread the line there, forced sexual acts on the reader and I might be forgetting some so read at your own caution

A/N: This might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“You’ll never believe what happened.” I knew she wasn’t really paying attention. Not when my hands were already sneaking underneath her tight skirt, fingers incapable of staying still whenever we were both alone in my office.

Sometimes, even when we weren’t. My men were the people I trusted the most in life, and I knew they all wanted her. It was hard not to.

So I had to make sure they knew who she belonged to. It wasn’t that hard to convince her, submissive as she was. She liked to follow my every whim, and she *always spread her legs for me.

After that little show we put out, I never had to worry about any of them even thinking about touching her again. They knew better. And I knew that she was perfect for me.

Which is why I wasn’t scared to tell her what I found out the night before.

“W-What happened?” She managed to ask despite my focused sucking on her sweet spot at the crook of her neck, and the way my fingers meticulously explored her insides.

“I had to fuck Laurie last night.” I felt her entire body freeze, despite her best efforts to pretend not to be affected. But I knew her too well, and my chuckle denounced just that.

“You know I have to give it to her at least once in a while, baby. She *is my wife, after all.” At the reminder - and a swipe of my thumb over her clit that sent her mewling, she finally nodded, muscles relaxing once again as she allowed me to continue my story.

“Anyway, because you’ve got me fucking obsessed with this pussy…” I bent her over my desk, delighting myself at her little giggles as I worked on getting rid of my pants to shove myself inside of her. “I haven’t been able to cum with her without thinking about you. Not since we met.”

The moan she released upon feeling my cock stretching her tight cunt always got to me, making me hiss at the feeling. “That’s right. So it was really only a matter of time until it happened…”

I knew she’d tense up again, confusion taking over her mind, that would jump to the worst conclusions, so I worked on pulling her against my chest by her hair, nuzzling the shell of her ear from behind.

“I screamed your name as I came inside of her, sweetheart. And you know how jealous she’s always been of you…” I reminded her, rubbing her clit with my free hand. “There was no way she’d forget your name… I thought she would slap me, I thought that scam of a marriage would be finally over. But you know what happened?”

She shook her head as best as she could, considering the grip I had of her hair, and so I continued, “She clenched so fucking hard, angel. For once, that old, used cunt of hers felt tight again. Of course, nowhere near as tight as this one I’m fucking now… But at least fuckable.”

I shoved her against the wood once more, loving how she moaned in pleasure at the pain, unlike my wife, who had to be treated like a fucking porcelain doll.

“I couldn’t believe it,” I kept going. “There it was, the one thing that could make Laurie interesting in my mind…She was clearly into the fact that I’d been thinking about you while I was balls deep inside of her.”

“So I thought… Better take advantage of that fact.” She moaned even more loudly as I sped up my movements, both of my member and thumb that still played with her. “So you know what I did?” I questioned, waiting for her tentative ‘nu-uh’ just to hear how wrecked she was.

“I told her all about us.” I felt as the shock got to her. Her cunt clenched around me - much like my wife’s had - and she came for the first time that morning, right as I was just starting to warm up. “I told her about how I’ve been fucking the virginal little intern, ever since she first started. I told her about all the times she called me and you had my cock inside your mouth, or even the time she came here and I’d just emptied myself inside of your pussy.”

Her nails were gripping the wood but the sound didn’t feel grating. If anything, it just added to the fire inside my belly, the arousal from the situation getting to me more and more after each second.

“All that suspicion, all that jealousy… And for what? She couldn’t stop her worst nightmare from happening anyway,” I mocked. “I already had a taste of your pussy and she had to hear it from my own lips as I fucked her, learn how I’d never let you go. How I’d never stop fucking you for her.”

Bottoming out inside of her, I held myself there as I came, huffing in delight at the feeling of filling her up. We were both panting as I tried to catch my breath before I turned her around and sat her on the desk where I worked every day, loving how it always smelled like her after I’d fucked her on it.

“So now, I want her to watch it, baby.” That was my master plan. That was what I was hoping to achieve by fucking my lover dumb as I told her about the incident, my cock unable to soften at the possibility of my biggest dream coming true.

“I want to hurt her. I want her to see how you’re the only one for me.” I only had to nuzzle her neck for a few seconds before I felt her hand curling around my nape.

“Let’s do it.”

Laurie’s P.O.V.

“Take off your clothes, sweetheart.” I bit down on my lip as I watched her do as he said, slowly undressing herself with her eyes focused on my husband as every inch of perfect skin became exposed to him.

Oh, to be that young again.

How could I ever really compete? Her breasts were perkier, her skin, smoother. She was very clearly eager to please him, and I had no doubt she’d do whatever it took to get the biggest mobster in the country pussy-whipped for her.

I bet she even let him put it in her ass.

I was forced to watch her from a chair by the foot of the bed, not even allowed the decency to hide in the shadows by the corner of the room. Oh, no. They wanted me close. They wanted me *right there, seeing and hearing and *smelling everything, as my husband fucked his intern right on our marital bed.

He shoved her on the mattress as soon as she was naked, and I understood in the few seconds it took for him to climb on it behind her and slam his cock inside her cunt that I’d never be able to do what she did for him.

I’d never be able to take him like that: fast, rough, and animalistic. It was hypnotizing almost, the way his hips met her ass, how he pulled her back by her hair and didn’t stop even after she was crying.

I could see she didn’t want him to, anyway.

“Keep your fucking eyes open,” he growled in the millisecond my lids dropped and that was when I realized what I was doing. I was humping my own hand, having decided to sit on them earlier because I didn’t know what else to do, and when he noticed it too, he laughed.

“Look at her,” he ordered her now, forcing her head towards my chair so she’d see my humiliation first hand. “See how pathetic she is? Getting off to another woman being fucked by her man?”

She nodded, although I could see some hesitancy in her features. I had no doubt that hesitancy would leave her in seconds, since the hazy cloud of arousal was taking over her eyes quickly - the same one that had been gradually filling my mind in order to prevent me from going insane.

“Tell her,” he incited. “Tell her how pathetic she is. She deserves to know. She deserves to hear it from the woman who has kept her husband happy when she failed to do so.”

A sob tore from my chest unexpectedly, right as her mouth fell open and her own eyes closed. It seemed as if my husband had reached that spot inside of her - the one he had never bothered to look for in me, and just as I thought I might get out of this alive, she opened her eyes, and I knew.

There was no hesitancy anymore.

“You’re pathetic,” she taunted. “You can’t keep him satisfied, so that’s my job from now on,” I was warned. “You can’t have his cock anymore. It’s mine.”

In the following weeks, I would quickly learn that was truly what my new reality would come to be.

“Oh, fuck,” Andy whispered once I had my lips wrapped around his member, and my head snapped up to meet his eyes, thinking I was finally doing something right, but he was staring at his phone. “Look what she just sent me.”

He forced the phone in front of me while I still had a mouth full of cock, and when I tried to pull away, he kept his hand on the back of my head.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked. “You stay right there and be a good cocksleeve. She’s visiting her parents this week so she allowed me to use you as I saw fit. It’s not the same as her holes, but you’ll have to do.”

I had to suck him off while he watched the video she sent, and once he came in my mouth, I thought I’d be free, but no. He didn’t even let me pull away to swallow.

“Here, watch this.” It was a video of one of their encounters, the camera showing the place where Andy and her were connected as he railed her. “It was so great to fuck her in the bathroom in the middle of our anniversary dinner… She looked so fucking sexy in this dress, don’t you think so?”

It was hard to fight off the tears with his cum seeping from my lips while I still tried to keep them pressed tightly around his member, so I stopped struggling against it and just gave into it.

“There you go…” He preened as he recognized the submission in my eyes. “You know she fucks me better than you ever could, honey. There’s no way you will ever measure up to her.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“What do you want?” Perhaps most men would find that being interrupted mid-fuck by your phone was a turn-off, especially if it was your wife who was calling you. I was one of the fortunate few who didn’t feel like it. “I’m kinda busy.”

Having realized who it was that I was speaking to, Y/N’s moans just got louder, making me smirk as I heard Laurie’s sharp inhale of breath at the other end of the line.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, I guess… I guess I just wanted to…” More cream flooded from my lover’s cunt, and with a groan, I cut my wife off.

“Oh, God!” It was hard to pay attention to anything else when there was such a delicious pussy to fuck, but when that thing was your annoying, prude wife, it was even harder to find two fucks to give about whatever it was that she had to say. “Shut the fuck up for a second, hm?” I ordered. “Listen to this.”

Lowering the phone to the place where Y/N and I were joined, I smirked as I knew the sounds of her sopping wet pussy would be easily captured by my wife at the other side of the line.

“Go to sleep,” I commanded once I was tired of taunting her. “I’ll spend the night at her apartment.” I already knew that was what Laurie was calling to know, anyway. “I hope you dream about what I’ll be doing to her.”

Laurie’s P.O.V.

I had hoped being his date to this work event would mean at least one night of make-believe. A confirmation that my role in his life still existed, even if it was but a title.

But I seemed to have gotten all of them wrong because the second we arrived, it was clear I wasn’t his date at all. While he paraded her around the room, introducing his secretary-turned-lover to some of the most powerful men in the city, I was forced to stand in the sidelines, feeling judged by even the trophy wives, since I knew I didn’t have a place with them anymore.

But it got even worse once the lights were dimmed and people started dancing.

It was like I wasn’t even there, and I was sure by now that he had forgotten all about me as he twirled her around the room, pressing kisses down her throat before he captured her lips on his and made out with her in front of everyone.

It should have been embarrassing to see a man his age behave in such a way. Lord knows I would have never let him go past a quick press of lips if I were the one in his arms, but as his fingers slipped underneath her dress, it made sense why she had replaced me so easily.

The burn of humiliation was delicious, as hard as it was for me to accept it. The more people stared, the wetter I got, and so I fought back against the urge to hide, forcing myself to stand tall as I watched my husband and his lover play with each other in the middle of a crowded room.

Andy’s P.O.V.

I groaned in dissatisfaction once I heard the knocks on my office door. “What?” I asked, not even bothering to lift my head to look at my wife as she slipped into the room to find me lapping up Y/N’s wetness. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

She fidgeted, changing her weight from one foot to the other while I kept on sucking my beloved’s little clit, relishing in the adorable moans she released, uncaring about Laurie’s presence in the room.

Oh, how far we’d come. Long gone were the days where my angel would complain about being this exposed, cry because of the guilt I was provoking in her. Now, she relished in the pleasure I gave her, even when my wife was around to witness it.

But she was still the sweetest angel I’d ever seen. The only one to tug at the hardened heartstrings I’d believed inexistent before she came around.

If Laurie was within listening distance, however… Y/N became uncaring and egoistical, completely focused on her pleasure and on me.

I was the happiest I’d ever been.

“… It’s important,” Laurie insisted, to which I groaned, at last lifting my head from my lover’s pussy and glancing up at my wife with a inquisitive look.

“Well, then… speak!” I nodded, letting her know she had at least a bit of my attention, but the light caught on the juices spread over Y/N’s lower half and I growled.

“I’m not gonna stop eating her cunt,” I warned, already leaning down to lick a stripe up her pussy lips again. “I’m fucking starving.”

It was much more rewarding to listen to my beloved’s moans as they floated freely in the room, but I tried to hear what Laurie had to say, I really did.

Was it really my fault she gave up and left the room without saying anything else?

Laurie’s P.O.V.

He never liked to eat my pussy.

I knew he thought I was shrewed and prudish, but no one had ever taught me about sex before I got married. And then, once it was time for our wedding night, he just assumed I would know what to do.

But I didn’t. It was obviously Andy did, though. And so I expected to feel something, *anything that would finally justify how lust-crazy my friends would act in the stories they’d tell me between wine glasses.

I wanted to have one of those. But the nerves got in my way that evening, and the tension wouldn’t leave my muscles. It hurt more than anything else, and I definitely didn’t get to cum.

But then again… he didn’t eat my pussy that evening, and none of the other times when he’d come home and actually bother to fulfill his marital duties.

But I understood. I probably didn’t taste as great as hers.

God, she looked incredible. I couldn’t remember the last time he touched me or even kissed me. He didn’t want to have sex with me anymore and it *hurt. He was always with her or talking about her or thinking of her and the deprivation was slowly making me desperate.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” I asked the first night he bothered to come home for the evening, even though he’d locked himself in his office the second he closed the entrance door behind him.

He didn’t even lift his head as I made my way into the office, obviously wanting to be noticed in my completely nude appearance, but at the same time sneaking in as if I was scared he’d suddenly yell at me, like a father does to a naughty kid who can’t take no for an answer.

“I’m working,” was all he said, never taking his eyes off of his computer, and the complete lack of enthusiasm shocked me, my hands falling at the sides of my body. All I had wanted was a little bit of his attention, but it didn’t seem like I was worthy of even that.

“I want you,” I forced myself to voice, perhaps believing somehow that he just hadn’t noticed my intentions. “C’mon, Andy…” Trying to be seductive, I approached him cautiously, hands rubbing up his arms as I pressed my breasts on his back. “I’ll let you do anything to me.”

I shouldn’t have even tried. My whispered words were thrown back at me as he mocked me, “I don’t want to do anything to you. Go to bed, Laurie.”

Tears in my eyes, I gathered what was left of my dignity and did as he said, slipping into the bed where he hadn’t laid in months, where I finally allowed myself to cry.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Oh, sorry…” Somewhere deep inside my mind, a part of me felt bad for Laurie. This was her house, after all - or at least, the one where she lived with her husband. And here was her husband, balls deep inside of me, fucking my pussy like he’d been doing for the last four hours while she shopped, right on the bed they used to share together.

Then again… it’d been four hours. I was too fucked out to care.

“Oh, good, you’re here.” Before either of us had the time to process Andy’s words, he’d pulled me by my hair so I’d look straight into his wife’s eyes where he stood, frozen on the threshold of their bedroom. “I want you to look into her eyes, Laurie. Look into her eyes as I cum inside of her. I want you to witness the moment I put my child inside of her.”

My knees buckled as I moaned at the harshness of it all, but Andy kept me up. My nails tore up the sheets of the bed, and still, he didn’t ease up. “I took her to the doctor earlier today,” he informed his wife - voice so casual, if it weren’t for the pants that interrupted his speech, no one would ever consider he’d been fucking me for the better part of the morning. “Took that lousy chip I paid to have it implanted in the first place.”

I saw the heartbreak in her eyes, the second she processed the information. I knew all about how Andy had told her time and time again he’d never have kids. It was something she had to give up in order to marry him - but what he didn’t mention was that he simply didn’t want them with *her.

I moaned when she started to scream, and he pounded me even harder the louder she got. The second her knees gave out and she fell to the floor, he came inside of me, cementing the new future he’d painted for the three of us.

Hissing as he pulled out of me, he barely paid any attention to the broken woman on the floor - the woman who was supposed to be his wife. Instead, he turned me around and spread my legs, a look of pride in his face as he saw the mess he left.

“If you’re so scared of her getting pregnant,” he spoke to her, “maybe you should eat my cum out of her.” I froze, uncertain as to my own feelings about his proposition, but in the end, I knew I’d just go with whatever Andy had in mind for us.

It was no accident that I fell in love with him. Part of me liked his cruelty, and I particularly loved that it was never used against me. So when he shoved Laurie’s head against my pussy, I just laid back and enjoyed the show.

“That’s right,” he teased, ever the torturer. “If you don’t want my mistress to get pregnant, you better eat my cum out of her.”

Laurie’s P.O.V.

It didn’t work.

She got pregnant, and if I thought my life was terrible, it became a living nightmare. Just like that, it was like I didn’t even exist. She moved in and then she was everywhere all the time. I had to watch as life grew inside of her, and she took over my life.

It was like she never wore underwear, either - something that seemed to please my husband endlessly. After being kicked out of my bedroom, I’d be constantly woken up by the sounds of their frantic fucking, reminding me of what was my place in the house now.

But that was alright. This is where I belonged now. Hearing him make her cum over and over again, and getting some pathetic and dirty release from it after they’d gone to bed. That’s all a little cuckolder wife was good for.

#my fics #andy barber smut #andy barber #smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber reader #andy barber reader insert #andy barber reader inserts #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fic #andy barber fics #andy barber imagine

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thecontumacious · 2 years

Note

Hey hey! Yandere request please :)

Gn reader who is madly in love with the boys and for a yandere x yandere kind of thing?

Mutual Interests

a/n: anddd we're back again with one of my favorite tropes in fanfiction ^^ my sister kept asking me if i was mentally okay when she read through this 😭 if you haven't checked out my last yandere fic w/ luxiem, here it is! i referenced back to this a lot tbh

warning: contains mentions of violence, suicide, r-pe, drug misuse, stalker behavior, kidnapping and gore. please read at own risk.

disclaimer: if you experience these kinds of things, whether yourself or on other people, please report this to professionals. this is not healthy behavior. i also do not mean to glorify any and all actions mentioned. it is meant for entertainment purposes.

reminder that all my work and others in the fandom are purely fiction and intended to entertain, not to be projected irl.

⚠️ dark content utc! proceed with caution! ⚠️

Vox Akuma 👹🌹

he first met you in a nightclub, unsurprisingly.

in anyone' eyes, it would've just looked like you and him were interested in each other from each end of the club. you dancing wildly on the dance floor while he sat by the bar watching you

but to the demon?

well, he's seen his fair share of beautiful bodied humans.

ah yes, he found humans' bodies to be more pleasurable than his own kind. probably because they just seem to falter and be vulnerable under him? probably.

but you. you.

to the father in the heavens and the spirits in the pits of hell, you had a body and charm no one else had. you made the humans around you look like useless trash, nothing compared to you

as you continued to dance, vox sips his drink imagining the different things he could do to you.

however he has to keep his composure that humans don't work the way demons usually do.

so he had to take it slow, step by step.

else he would be no different than the people throwing themselves at you, straight up asking for a good fucking without much to begin with.

you held more class than that, he could tell. you were rejecting their every whim after all.

after a round of dancing, you finally retire to the bar, only a few stools from vox.

he took this as his chance, giving you one of his (literally) devilish smiles. "good evening. tired from all the dancing?"

"how about you, kind sir? haven't lost it to the alcohol yet?" you tease, snickering afterwards.

to vox, it seemed like you were asking for it.

"i handle my drinks better than anyone in this club, mind you," he chuckles back, placing his glass down. "come, let me get you a drink. what would you like?"

you hum, resting your chin on your hand. you mention your drink to him and he calls the bartender for your order.

"your usual place on saturday nights like this?" vox inquires, leaning closer.

you nod, "pretty much, yeah."

"your drink," the bartender slides the glass over to you, to which you glug down quickly, parched from the dance floor.

"slow down now," the demon laughs.

you shake your head, gulping the burning beverage down your throat. "says the one who's been ordering drinks longer than i have."

even the way you spoke is testing him. he really is trying his best to hold back from taking you then and there.

thus became the first of many nights you and vox would meet up together.

oh, no, he was a gentleman the entire time!

he would properly take you home after a day's outing. he never forgets to bring you gifts whenever you agreed on a date.

not once did vox even mention he would like to 'sleep' with you the entire time.

because he knew it's not time yet.

when it's time, he'll pounce. he won't ever let you go after that happens. your body will become his.

"lovely to see you, darling," vox greets, handing you a bouquet of flowers as soon as you reached the restaurant you promised to meet up in

you giggle, taking the gift graciously. "how sweet. my house will turn into a flower shop with the many you bring me every time, vox."

"what can i say? i can't not bring one if i keep meeting up with a pretty person."

"oh, now you're too flattering," you sit across him, setting the flowers in your lap. "have you ordered?"

"yeah. i know what you like anyway," he shrugs, crossing his arms on the table to lean towards you. vox smirks, tilting his head, "so, tell me about your day, love."

to be completely honest without a hint of malice, vox never usually does this. if he's interested in a human especially, things would not have taken this long

the easiest way to explain it would be:

'waiting makes the results much more enjoyable'.

at least, for vox.

look at you, chattering away with your plump lips about your job, or some friends you met up with that day. your pretty long lashes fluttering like you're seducing him.

he would do anything to just throw you on that fucking table and ravage that sweet neck of yours, uncaring if it was a public area

perhaps, today would be the day.

as you continue to speak, vox fingers the sleeping pills in his pocket.

"gimme a sec, vox. bathroom," you stand, smiling.

"go ahead."

the perfect time to drug your food.

the bathroom door behind you closes and vox pulls out the already crushed pills, adding almost thrice the supposed dose. besides, he didn't want you to be awake during the entire time

you could be screaming, struggling, begging him to stop when he clearly wanted to keep going

he'll save that session for another time.

you return, sitting back down to eat again.

it was only a matter of time before those pills start to settle in

but with three times the dose vox put in, it really shouldn't take much time.

and it does.

once you got in the car, you've fallen asleep without saying a word to him. he chuckles to himself, taking your hand in his as he drove you back to his house where you'll be staying

for the rest of your life

vox sets you by his mattress, still heavily asleep, as he grabs the ropes from under his bed. red, his favorite color of course.

he strips you in a matter of minutes, leaving nothing but you in your own skin. just the sight of it is enough to make vox lose it. how was he gonna handle you later?

with expertise, the demon bounds your wrists and feet to the bedpost, tight enough that you couldn't even move an inch. you're spread out, nothing to hide.

just as vox was about to begin, you suddenly groan.

he freezes.

for a second he thought he was just mishearing, given how excited he was. but your eyes are fluttering open, pupils looking around your surroundings figuring out where you were and why the fuck you were naked spread out on a bed you didn't recognize

"vox?" you grumble, trying to get up. but you realize you're tied down.

he sighs, his moment of enjoying you for the first time absolutely ruined. seems like he was going to have to--

"fuck," you suddenly whine.

vox looks at you, and your face... god, your face was so deliciously red. were you enjoying this? why did you--

"fuck, vox, please," you beg, your hands clenching onto the ropes that held onto you. "do it already. do you fucking know how long i've waited?"

once he's sure that you're actually serious about what you're saying, he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your tear filled eyes. "i'm sorry, beloved. i'll get on with it."

"thank you!" you chirp, nuzzling into his neck. "can i ask for a favor?"

"hm? what is it, sweet thing?"

you look him in the eyes, pleading once more, "can you use a knife?"

oh you really were different.

"of course, my love," vox gets off you for a moment and pulls out a knife, freshly sharpened it seems. it makes your cheeks grow even redder at the sight of it, imagining how the demon will rake it down your body.

"use it on me, please. do with it what you want," you desperately request of him. "no, kill me when you're done. please, vox. i've always wanted to be killed by you. and only you..."

good fucking thing he took his sweet time with you, huh?

"kill you?" he smirks, once again straddling you on his bed. the cold blade meets the side of your body, sending shivers down your spine. "darling, i've got something better than killing you."

your eyes glimmer excitedly.

"now, shall we begin?"

what would be better than to be killed by the one you love, you ask?

oh, you know.

torture.

you forgot just how many times he slashed that knife over your skin, forever going to leave a scar there but not enough to kill you. he'd stab where it wouldn't meet any of your organs and lap away at the blood that leaks

you realized then that this was better than being killed

vox edging you of your death, then coming back up to inflict more love soaked wounds.

the sun rises and it's only then did the demon stop, panting from the much fun he's had since a century ago. he looks at you, half dead, covered in your blood like a sacrifice to the devil himself.

then he unties your ropes and places the blood caked knife in your hand with an aroused smile.

you look at him, dazed, "hm?"

"do it to me too, love. stab me, break me, mutilate me if you want," he breathes, pressing the hand holding the knife against his stomach. vox grins, "i'm immortal after all."

you peck his nose, driving the blade into his flesh, eliciting a pleasured and pained moan from the demon.

"let me get to work then, darling."

Mysta Rias 🦊🔶

the reality is:

you've never met mysta and he's never met you in person. you have never swapped even a word with this man so it's likely you never knew he existed.

but it didn't matter

the universe had already given you to him so he'll swallow all the small opportunities to see you

to be more exact, how mysta even knew about you was simply because you were in line to get your groceries checked out

the way you smiled at the cashier and how you gently spoke to them

he thought you were an angel that descended upon this disgusting world

what was someone as divine as you doing here?

the people here are going to taint your innocence.

that was it.

mysta wished nothing else than to have you all to himself, an angel that belonged only to him, smiled only at him, did everything only for him.

he wanted to save you from this world, and that became his only life mission upon meeting you.

so he followed you home that day, making sure that he tailed you without arousing any suspicion from both you and the people around him. but if people asked, he could easily show them his detective badge, reasoning he was only doing his job

it's worked so far

from his work of crimes, mysta knows that ambushes and the element of surprise always worked best. that's why he chose to hide away from you, wanting to enjoy you a bit more before he did what he had to do

mysta giggles at the thought

once you reached your home, he knew he couldn't continuing watching you from the window. someone will call the cops on him for that.

so, he jots down your address and returns home

he's got a camera lying around somewhere... ah, there it is. still usable and the sd card seems to be empty.

he was determined to have it filled with only you, you and you

"i'm sure i had a stuffed bear lying around here somewhere," mysta whispers to himself, ruffling through his old items in search of said toy. surely, you wouldn't mind a special gift from a secret admirer?

of course not

he couldn't imagine you driving away an innocent present like a stuffed bear!

that night, mysta learns how to plant the camera inside the bear. he surprises himself with how truly harmless it looked from the outside.

in the morning, he hurriedly makes his way to your door and places his gift down, ringing the doorbell before running away.

you open the door seconds later and do indeed find the animal down at your feet. you pick it up then look side to side, wondering who could have left the object. but you shrug and came back inside with the gift.

mysta grins and opens his phone, connecting with the camera inside the bear.

through the screen, he sees you carry the bear around your before deciding to put it on your bed.

perfect.

the detective went home, satisfied.

he was going to need a lot more gifts and cameras for this.

for mysta, it was an obsession from the start. the moment he saw you smiling for the world, that was it for him. this world didn't deserve your smile. and only he could save you.

every few weeks, a gift would appear by your door and you'd place it all over your apartment, much to mysta's fortune. he'd study how you walk around the apartment, memorized your routine, what times you woke up on specific days, what meals you ate, what you liked doing when at home

god it felt like the most fantastic movie he's ever watched in his entire life

but then cameras and anonymous gifts became insufficient for mysta.

he needed to feel for himself how soft your blankets were, the smell of your pillow, the specific shampoo and soap you used.

he needed to be there.

so after some consideration, mysta finally made it to your apartment in the dead of night. with trial and error, he also made it past you door and he breathes in the scent of your home

it made him go crazy and the fact he was in your apartment right now was too much for him to take

but mysta walks on, closing the door behind him as he inspects all the things you kept. he now knows what cereals you ate, what milk you go for, what bath items you personally liked.

then he enters your bedroom where you're fast asleep, curled up under the blanket

"you look so fucking adorable," mysta whispers, covering his cheeks with the back of his hand to feel just how warm they were. how could they not be? he was in the presence of you again...

he looks around the area, learning more of your favorite colors from your outfit choices, books you were interested in and the small things that you liked in life

then he stops by your underwear drawer.

his hands shake even at the mere thought of having one to himself. you wouldn't notice one pair missing, right?

a souvenir from his first day seeing you again would be nice too

so he pockets one, smiling.

mysta finally stands near your bed. he kneels down and breathes silently as he comes in close contact with you. look at you. look.

so fucking gorgeous. the world truly didn't deserve you.

his finger makes it to your cheek, creating a single sloppy circle then it travels down to your plump lips. he traces every inch of it, his mind drawing the scene where he would kiss these beautiful lips of yours

he could very well do it right now...

mysta leans in close, his nose brushing against you and his lips hovering just over yours.

but something stops him.

maybe... maybe not now. better not to push my luck.

so he pulls away and exits your home.

once more, satisfied.

he promised himself that his visits wouldn't be too often. once a week maybe. but mysta is not one to to commit himself to something. once a week became thrice a week. then it became every single night.

in the day he would watch you from his cameras, his hands aching to feel your things and your body. and in the night, as you finally fall asleep, he would enter your home like it was his own.

well, it might as well be.

his souvenir picking became even bizarre too.

from clean underwear became to ones you've worn, your old photos, your clothes that he would wear. at first, he would return them, but with time, he kept them. hung them up on his walls or put the special ones under his pillow so he could somewhat have a piece of you before he falls asleep

at this point, mysta would use your apartment like it was your own. used your electricity, your water, ate your food. and when he left for the night, he would never forget to place a ghostly kiss on your forehead, not really brave enough for your lips somehow

so it could help him feel like he was living with you.

but there was something he noticed.

while you'd usually keep your clothes inside, they're now laid out in the open. even some of your undergarments.

more of your precious items were carelessly placed.

wh-why was there a second toothbrush in the sink? an extra towel? two bottles of your usual shampoos and soaps?

could you have possibly known he was in the apartment? why the fuck were you indirectly welcoming him in like this?

afraid at the realization, mysta decides it was time to go. so he hastily while still being quiet exits out of your bedroom.

but just before he could grab the doorknob, something tugs at his shirt.

"leaving already, darling? you usually stay longer..."

h-huh??

mysta turns on his heel and he sees you, gripping onto his shirt tight while rubbing your eyes. wh-what?

"come on, you haven't even kissed me goodbye yet," you pout, pulling him closer to you.

his heart is in his throat, beating rapidly as he doesn't know what to do. so you did know. why the heck did that make you seem even more perfect? you beautiful angel...

god fuck

"you thought i didn't know?" you smile, giggling as you nuzzled into his neck. "baby, you go to my apartment all the time. but you never notice when i go to yours?"

now that he thought about it, he would sometimes find some of his things misplaced. but he thought that was just him being a klutz again

"i-i..."

you grin at his loss of words, wrapping your arms around his waist. "you're so cute, darling. always have been. can i have a real kiss now?"

what is happening--

"mysta, my love, please?"

oh. oh god. the way you said his name.

the detective finally comes to his senses, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he held your face and for the first time finally kissed you right on the lips.

the way you kissed right back, holding him by the back of his head excitedly.

"i love you, y/n," mysta whispers against your mouth, the passion dripping from his words.

you smile and respond, "i love you too, mysta."

then you pull away, much to his dismay. "hey."

"hm?"

"wanna die together?"

how did you...

"you like to talk aloud in your sleep, my love," you giggle. "i'd be lying if i said i didn't want the same. you're too precious for this world... and you don't need it either. it's just going to take you away from me one day."

mysta suddenly brings you in for a tight hug, a choked sob escaping his lips. "god, i love you. i love you. i love you. yes we can die together, sweetheart."

at this, you tug on mysta's hand with the biggest smile on your face. "come on, come on! i've always wanted to die during a sunrise."

"oh really?" he laughs, following you out.

you drag him up the stairs all the way to the top floor of the apartment complex.

with the sky looking more bright, it was only a matter of minutes before the sun decided to peek through. but mysta was glad. he could spend the last minutes of his life with you

and now you and him will soon be together forever.

him and his beautiful angel...

you climb onto the railing, balancing on your feet as you offer your hand to mysta. "come on, love."

he smiles at you then stands just next to you. "i dreamed of this moment so much."

"yeah, i know. i'm glad you and i can be together in the end mysta. i was worried that you wouldn't ever notice."

he laughs, "sorry about that darling."

then, the sky becomes bright and the sun is right there, saying both hello and goodbye to you.

mysta feels you squeeze his hand.

"i love you so much, mysta."

he was gonna save you. and this was it. this was all he needed.

he brings your hand to his lips, pressing one last kiss. "i love you so much, y/n. my angel."

you smile at each other, all before gravity decides to envelop you both in its embrace, never to walk the earth again.

Luca Kaneshiro 🦮🔆

luca was minding his own business, watching over the casino on one of his free nights with a drink in his hand. it was incredibly boring though.

just the usual snobby rich heads flaunting their financial statuses to each other.

it reeked of trash in there, despite the millions worth of money in building said casino.

so luca excused himself for the night and goes to the backstreet when he sees someone being harassed by some uncivilized crooks.

ugh, be it upper or low class, people really were absolute garbage.

luca rolls his eyes, pulls out his gun and easily shoots the men by the head without missing a single target.

their bodies drop dead and reveals you, your face splattered with your harassers' blood.

the mafia boss' heart suddenly skips a beat at the rather gruesome scene before him. but it was because of the messy crime scene that made his adrenaline rush.

your pretty face among the dead.

luca smiles, approaching you while offering you his handkerchief.

"rough night?" he asks, kicking away the bodies at his feet.

you sigh, taking his aid and wiping away the blood. "thanks, but yeah, these guys just show up out of nowhere."

"well, you did take the road in a suspicious looking backstreet," luca points out, causing you to blush red. he chuckles.

"fa-fair point..."

"need an escort home? you do have a pretty face," he grins, offering you his hand. you look at it, then back at him, your eyes flickering with shyness.

"u-um, no thanks. i'll be careful from now on," this time, you completely avoid his gaze, ears blood red. you skitter away, waving softly at him, "th-thanks again!"

that's it.

luca liked you.

just the way you hide away from his advances, not out of disgust. but more out of embarrassment. so shy and precious... luca had to have you.

even the mere thought of someone else making you shy like that

it made luca's blood boil and instinctively reach for his gun, his fingers itching to fire his entire cartridge just to stave his unfathomable jealousy

his mafia life could be so boring after all.

nothing but business in the dark, murdering people who didn't do their job well (and occasionally those he didn't like) and making sure his record is clean, far away from the reach of the police

he was so used to seeing fearful expressions, sometimes ones that were so serious like they'd never heard of a joke. perhaps he'd get the rare chance of a woman or two smiling for him, offering something he'd like, but they all have under-the-surface motives

they were all the fucking same.

it was just so monochromatic.

but then there was you.

the first person in his life to smile and thank him so genuinely without asking for anything in return.

the mafia life is all about trading one eye for the other.

but with you, it's the other way around

and luca liked it. no, was obsessed with the concept.

so, he had his men track you down. find out what you liked, where you worked, who your family was, if you... had a partner. he specifically asked them to bring both their kidneys if they found out you had one.

but to his fortune, you weren't seeing anyone at the moment.

then, luca finally decided it was time to pay you a visit during your work time. his own work was getting bored after all.

he promised himself he wouldn't touch anyone today, for your sake really. luca had to accept that blood and gore wasn't everyone's favorite...

so he strolled right into the building where you worked, ignoring anyone who tried to stop him as he went up to ask a random employee where you were.

"u-um, they're on the second floor, sir," they answer, pointing towards the elevator.

"thanks!" he pats their back before going to the designated floor, your favorite flowers and snacks in hand to help win you over for an impromptu date. if your boss fired you for ditching work, luca brought his knife with him to cut off a few fingers to do the exact opposite

just in case

once the elevators let him out, luca's joyful mood suddenly dissipates when he hears angry screams. he wouldn't have minded them if your name wasn't thrown around the room.

from the corner, he sees you standing still, your face dark as your employees look at you with irritation, your boss? supervisor? whoever the asshole was scolding you for doing something so poorly

how dare someone insult and embarrass you like this? his precious and cute y/n...

luca's gun is begging to him to be used. to empty his full cartridge.

but for you, he took a deep breath and waltzed right in.

"hey, who are you? you're not authorized personnel!" an employee yells, moving forward to stop luca from stepping in any further. but with a demon looming inside the mafia boss, said employee shivers when he meets with luca's eyes, backing away almost immediately.

"y/n, honey!" he sang, grabbing the attention of the entire floor.

you turn to him, eyes wide.

"sorry, who are you, sir?" the person who was screaming at you raised an eyebrow at him.

"you don't want to know," luca giggles, circling his arm around your waist. although he seemed to be smiling, the aura leaking off of him was not safe.

at the icky feeling, the man takes one step back. "it doesn't matter. we're in the middle of an important conversation."

"looks like a torturing session to me though," luca tilts his head, curling his lip like a child. "you're a bad boss for scolding them in front of everyone else, you know."

"they're my employee, i can do what i want," he hisses.

the mafia boss takes a deep breath in, ignoring his urges to just fucking gut the man. "they're my partner. it's my duty to protect them from bad people. like you and everyone breathing in this building."

you look at him, confusion lacing your face but the fact he was protecting and defending you was enough not to ask any questions yet.

he then proceeds to hand you your gifts, flashing you a sweet smile, "come on, honey. you obviously don't want to be here. my car is waiting outside."

luca tugs you away to the exit, but the man from before yells again like it's the only thing he can do, "hey! it's still working hours!"

BANG

"can you shut up for once? you're making sound pollution."

the bullet hit the windows, but luca did that on purpose. the screaming was giving him a headache for fuck's sake.

he tugs on your hand again, "let's go, hon."

once in the car, all you can do is bite your lip as you stare at your flowers and snacks. shaken? nervous? afraid?

luca sighs, grabbing your chin softly to look at him. "how long have they been doing this to you, baby?"

you can't help but tear up, hiccupping, "right when i started work..."

as angry as he was though, you came first. your heart was tired. so luca leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, hoping it would help your mental scars.

how fucking dare these people make you cry?

"it'll be okay, honey," he whispers, squeezing your hand. "come on, let's get something to eat. you don't need that job. i'm luca, by the way."

you finally smile.

there it is, the smile he'd been aching to see since you last met.

after your outing together, it was safe to say that you were in a different place now. you were smiling much more and laughing to luca's jokes.

still shy whenever he teased you.

yes, only to him. he'll make sure that happens soon...

he took you home, walking you to the door.

you turn to him, "thank you for today, luca. i hope i get to see you again."

he laughs, "of course we will! i'll come get you again tomorrow."

"of course," you giggle, opening the door. "i'll see you tomorrow then, luca."

"oh and by the way."

"hm?"

luca smiles, "i'll be sending you a gift soon. i hope you'll like it."

a very one of a kind gift.

"oh? i'm excited to see it," with one final laugh, you enter your home then wave at luca. "get home safe, okay?"

"i will!"

then he's off.

to get your gift of course.

he sits in his car, takes out his phone and makes a quick call. he growls when the line finally connects, "find me all the employees who work at y/n's workplace."

"roger, sir."

in a matter of minutes, he receives the list. all from the very top of the organization to the lowest. there was your name, one of the lower employees it seemed, despite being at the company for a long time.

he chuckles to himself, tapping the gun buried in his pocket.

he was finally going to use that chainsaw in his trunk. luca was worried that it would start to break down before he even got to use it...

you awoke the next morning to the doorbell ringing. groggily, you get out of bed and check who it is , but is surprised to see a black box sitting by the end of your door.

a note sits atop it, handwritten and scented.

you bring it back inside first while reading the note

'good morning honey <3 i hope you had a good sleep and also like the present i got for you. it was a little hard to get but i would do anything for my sweet honey~'

you smile, putting the paper aside and lift the lid of the box.

you are face to face with your boss' head, eyes still open and a bullet hole between his eyes.

meanwhile, luca is at his office getting some work done when he receives a text from you.

'i loved the gift, luca! i might actually have a gift for you too~ wanna see it?'

his colorful life with you starts to saturate even more, the feeling of love blooming even more from the underside of his heart. shocked as he was, his ache to see you only grew wilder. he needed you there with him right now

he knew you were different the moment he met you

practically not afraid of the bodies that drop dead at your feet.

so luca rushes to your house, knocking on the door fervently.

as quickly as he came, you open the door for him and drag him inside with the biggest grin on your face. it didn't help how your cheeks were bright red from joy.

"hurry! i want you to see it!" you giggle, pushing him inside the house.

he merely chuckles, letting you lead him. you then stop together in front of a closet. you point at it, beckoning for him to open the door himself. "go on, luca!"

"alright," he grins, twisting the door knob open.

wait... he's seen her face before. wasn't she that waitress he saw a few days ago?

well of course, only this time she's completely and utterly lifeless. her eyes gouged out leaving empty dark sockets behind.

"oh, wow," luca widens his eyes, looking towards you.

you hiss, glaring at the dead woman, "she was flirting with you. i didn't like it so i got rid of her so you would only smile at me from now on."

luca stares at you, his heart beating against his chest.

so adorable. yet as crazy as him.

how perfect.

suddenly, the mafia boss picks you up and spins you around the hallway, causing for you to burst out laughing despite being in the presence of the deceased

of course that didn't matter! he was with the love of his life after all.

"i only wished i could've seen you do it in front of me, honey!" luca smiles, putting you down to nuzzle his nose against you. "next time, call me when you want to take care of someone. i'd love to see you go crazy."

you giggle, nodding. "i promise."

Ike Eveland 🖋💙

he first met you when he went on a stroll around the park, simply trying to get a breath of fresh air in his mundane life

he saw your beautiful form sitting on a bench busily drawing on your sketchpad, your eyes laser focus on the subject before you. it was love at first sight for ike.

at that moment, he wished nothing more than to have your eyes focus on him. drawing him. and him only.

all his life, he's been trained to create something about someone. but he longs for when someone creates something out of him for once.

so, ike chose you.

he knew how other people worked. other people wouldn't simply say yes to be his lover on the spot and well, suddenly change their life so it could revolve only around him

well, ike wished you would do that but since it was his lovely darling, he was willing to be extra patient for you

he approached you, keeping his beating heart at bay as he spoke to you for the first time, "hello there, can i sit next to you?"

you look up from your sketchpad, flashing only the prettiest smile ike has ever seen in his life. "yeah, i don't mind. go ahead."

you give him one more smile before redirecting your attention back to your work, pencil tip already back to creating shapes on the paper

ike steals a glance at what you're working on

and he knew he made the right choice to approach you

it was absolutely beautiful

every single stroke of your graphite was flawless. all your lines shape your subject according to the image in your mind.

an image ike wished was him.

although he meant to merely glance, he finds himself staring at you continue to draw. the more he did, the more he wished he could ask you to have him as your subject

but ike had to hold himself back

so when the right time comes, all his waiting would be worth it

"you're a very skilled artist," ike comments. you turn to him in surprise, red rushing to your cheeks and ears at his compliment.

that's it. blush only for me, sweetheart.

you grip your pencil nervously, laughing softly. "th-thank you, sir. i practice."

"i can see that," ike smiles, leaning towards you a bit to take a quick inhale of your scent. oh how sweet... he was bound to remember your unique smell. "how long have you drawn?"

"as long as i can remember. it's my favorite pastime," you answer, a glimmer of passion in your eyes.

lord, only 60 seconds in and you've captured his heart completely. ike begins to imagine all the nights you've stayed up for just to master your skills, all the different drawings you've done in the past

and his selfish wish to have all your future drawings once again, only of him

nothing and no one else but him

he followed you that day back home, and once he's written down your exact address, he returns himself and heads straight for his writing desk

he wanted to write so bad upon walking past the doorframe.

all because he couldn't get you out of his mind

you've become his muse after all, so the inspiration comes spilling out. so much so ike does not want to even waste a single drop of it

he could render his wrist useless for all he cares, but he desperately needed to write about you

about your gentle voice, about your beautiful eyes, about your skilled hand in drawing, about your mind-driving scent

ike was going to drill your very existence into the history of the earth himself

every single day, he made sure that he would "coincidentally" meet you out in public. this would make a good excuse for him to keep interacting with you without having to dig for your information without your knowledge

befriending you first was his strategy

once he makes sure that you are wrapped around his finger, it's only then he will make his move

but ike knew that this method was going to feel like being burnt alive. far too painfully slow.

he just wanted to have you all to himself. have you draw him everyday as he wrote about you everyday. he deserved this after everything he's done for you.

oh the way you greeted him hello, offered him something to drink when he came over, or when you were excitedly talking about an art project you were working on

do you have any idea how you're squeezing and twisting ike's heart?

so he finally takes his chance.

he takes your sleeping self to his house in the dead of night, tucking you in his bed like you truly belonged there. actually, who was he kidding? you did belong there. always have and always will.

look at you, so helpless and innocent.

ike smiles to himself, the blush on his cheeks appearing upon really settling that you finally belonged to him.

but that smile falters when he sees scars near your shoulders and thighs.

something dark envelops ike.

who did this? who would dare hurt his darling?

but according to how he's monitored you, it couldn't have been anyone. you didn't often go out to meet people (besides him of course) and you lived alone.

he figured he could just ask you in the morning

ike half expected you to panic and run for help when you cracked your eyelids open, starting to accuse him of kidnapping you.

but as he patiently sips his drink when you sit up, he is beyond caught by surprise.

"ike? am i in your bedroom?" you ask, half awake.

he chuckles at you, "yes, darling. you are."

you raise an eyebrow at him, "why?"

ike puts his book and cup aside, crawling over to your side. "because you belong here, my love. don't you know? you are mine."

he's expecting the scream of terror, or the paling up of your face.

but you only frown, disappointed?

"you don't by any chance brought my art tools with you, did you?" your lips curl at him, your voice so fragile like you were about to cry.

now ike is the one to raise his eyebrow in question, "no? is that what you need, darling? i could go get them for you as long as you stay here."

your eyes light up immediately then you hold his hand, nodding. "yes, please! it's in the furthest room in the apartment. the one i never show you before. just take the whole bag, okay?"

still heavily confused but not one to refuse your every request, ike nods and places a kiss on your forehead before standing up. "be a good boy/girl and stay, alright? i won't be long."

you giggle, waving.

back at your apartment, he goes to the specific room you were talking about. it was true he's never seen it before, since you never showed him and whenever he asked, you always brush him off.

what was in this anyway?

ike cracks the door open and he is astonished by the inside.

all four side of the rooms, even the floors and ceilings, even the furniture were drawn upon. whether that be the wooden chairs, the bare walls, papers or canvas.

what makes ike's heart skip a beat is the fact they're all drawings of him. all in different angles.

the accuracy... god, you were talented.

the next thing he noticed is the strong scent of rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. why would you need...?

then ike realized just what you used as your drawing mediums.

hydrogen peroxide...the scars on your body...

tears prick the novelist's eyes, so glad to have met the most perfect person in the world.

how long have you been doing this? as long as he did perhaps? no matter, he'll pick up your... artwork later.

ike takes the bag you mentioned and goes back to his house, but he's worried the moment you are not in his room.

"darling?" he calls out, but you don't answer. ike begins to panic, checking every door for you when he finds you in one of his mysterious rooms.

yes, he did the same exact thing.

you stare at the room before you, the walls plastered with papers filled with poems and stories about you. written in the same medium you did with your paintings of ike.

your cheeks are burning red, a wide smile decorating your beautiful face as you turned to ike.

"did you like my work at home?" you giggle.

"did you like mine?" ike smirks, hooking you by the waist to bring you closer. "oh, my beautiful little artist."

you rest your head on his shoulder. "my beautiful writer."

such a matching pair indeed.

"move your head a bit to the side, love. yes, that's it," you clap your hands excitedly with one paint brush in hand. ike chuckles at your cute reaction, readying his quill and an inkwell filled with your blood.

he says, "can we start?"

you nod, dipping your tool into the jar of his blood mixed with rubbing alcohol. "let's create together, ike."

you two were going to engrave each other's existence into history, no matter if the world liked it or not.

art always has been an enigma in itself.

Shu Yamino 🔮✨

he was in a rush that day when he dropped his wallet after leaving a cafe. so much to do, so little time.

but he stops when he hears someone call his name as soon as he got onto the street. he turns around and sees you, the same cashier who served your order just before he left.

shu then sees you waving his wallet in the air, patting his pocket where it would've been.

it's this human kindness that makes his heart skip a beat for you.

you approach him, smiling while panting, given you've had to run after him. wallet in hand, you say, "you forgot this, sir!"

but he's too busy staring at you like you had grown ten more heads, receiving the wallet which you were handing back to him. "u-um, yeah... "

"be a bit careful next time, okay?" you giggle, dusting off your pants. "well, best you go on then! you were obviously rushing. i gotta go back to work too."

"ca-can i ask for your name?" shu nervously asks, pocketing his wallet. he had to. he had to get to know you. there was no way he was going to let you go, this kind hearted person.

"y/n," you smile. "and you?"

"i'm shu," he responds. "it was nice meeting you, y/n. i gotta go now though."

nodding, you wave at him as you jog back to your workplace again.

surely the cameras in your cafe were going to be easy to hack into.

he wasn't crazy. he was just... interested in you.

people nowadays are selfish. people only do things for their own things. sure they might do something for someone, but in the end, they'd ask for something in return. shu was both sick and used to this.

so when he received his wallet back from you, of course he'd be intrigued.

how could a human being be so kind...?

the next day, shu returns to your cafe in much better circumstances, hoping to see if it was your shift. luckily for him, it was. you busy yourself with cleaning tables around the cafe, humming to the current song playing

shu realizes then how absolutely beautiful you were. it was probably because he was in a nick of time yesterday that he couldn't notice much of your face

but with the slow pace of the day, he sees it now

of course, only the kindest people are beautiful. working so hard, smiling at all the customers who came through that door.

smiling at him when he walked through that door.

"oh hey, shu! i see you're back," you greet, placing the huge plastic box to rest against your hip. "here for another drink?"

shu smiles, nodding even though that was not his main purpose. "yeah, i needed a break from work."

"i'll be at the bar in a second, go wait up by the cashier!"

he savors all the precious seconds he gets to spend interacting with you, even if it was probably just small talk and discussions about his order.

besides, he'll be able to see more of you through his cameras later.

"will it be the same as yesterday?" you ask once you've put away your cleaning supplies.

shu raises an eyebrow, "you remembered my order?"

"o-oh! i'm sorry, you probably think i'm creepy. i just have a habit to remember people's orders. you left such an impression on me yesterday too," giggling nervously, you look away.

but this adds to your charm, shu thinks. look at you, hiding away because of something cute you did. remembering people's orders was a skill a barista could use, especially if the same customers will be coming back often

you truly were a different human being.

there was no way shu was going to let you out of his sight.

what if you met the wrong people? what if they take advantage of your kindness? shu just couldn't bare the thought of the world making you sad if those things ever happened

how else to prevent that from happening than to protect you himself?

he had sorcery in his veins, that sufficed to kill a hundred men at least.

after you made him his drink, shu goes to leave. but he doesn't go home. instead, he waits by the backstreet until your shift ended.

it was long into the day before he heard the door to the backstreet start to open. shu uses his sorcery to hide himself from view and out you appear, exhausted and ready to collapse from working for so long.

"god, i'm done," you sigh, tugging your bag to your side as you start your journey home.

this was it.

shu follows you back and once you've entered your home, he notes down your exact address and places a single camera. but with his sorcery, it makes it easy for him to place within your residence without much trouble and without being seen.

once he himself arrives home, he excitedly opens up his devices and connects with the camera he planted

this was how his obsession with you grew stronger.

there are no absent days where he's not opening his cameras to check on you. watch over you.

just look at how innocent and beautiful you look... so safe under shu's watch.

yes, this was a good idea after all. this way he knows you're safe.

but

there's something he's begun to notice, a few weeks after the first time he planted in that camera in your home.

from what he's noticed, the first few weeks were just you acting casual and well, being yourself.

but as time passes by, you begin to act... more poised. like you were acting for someone. was it shu or did you start wearing clothes that showed more of your skin?

one thing for sure though

shu could not hold it back anymore.

he couldn't resist just watching you. he needed to talk to you again. he needed to touch you. your skin, your hair, everything!

so, he makes his way over to your home, careful of his steps and any prying eyes. his heart is beating against his chest, extremely excited to even get to see you in person one more time

shu's hand hovers over the doorknob, commanding it to unlock. but after minutes of trying, he wonders why nothing has happened. not a sound of the lock was heard.

"is it...?" he wonders, grabbing the knob. then it swings open with ease. shu is baffled, "it was already open?"

you probably forgot to lock it, so he shrugs and enters your house.

he's watched you for a long time, he basically knows where everything is by now. where your bathroom is, where you keep your books, everything.

he wasn't your protector if he didn't know everything about you, right?

shu tiptoes to the bedroom and he finds you deep asleep in a position he never saw you in.

blankets covered all the way up above your elbows, but shu could definitely see you were... completely nude

"god, you're so beautiful," is the first thing he says, crawling to your side to study your beautiful face. it didn't matter if you were nude. in fact, it benefitted him.

his finger traces over your cheek, slowly down your neck and to your collarbone. all so smooth and like it's begging to him to be touched.

shu then pulls the covers off of you, a gift before him.

that night, he touched you. and by touch, more than tracing his fingers memorizing your every inch.

god, you felt too good. you were just so perfect.

when he finished and the hours slowly becoming dusk once more, shu sneaks out of bed and leaves without forgetting to give you one last kiss.

for that day of course. he was going to come back very soon.

because he knew he was never going to sober up from his drunk thoughts of your beautiful body and your innocence stolen away by him

actually, he wanted to see you today.

so, shu went to pick up a drink by your cafe.

ah, there you were. still as beautiful as the day he met you, seemingly unknowing he had so much fun with you last night.

your eyes meet his, and you flash him a smile like last time you saw him. "hi shu! it's been a while."

"yeah, it has," he laughs simply.

"the same?"

still remembered it huh?

shu nods, placing the amount of money to pay for his drink. he swore when you took the cash, you purposely brushed your fingertips against his.

he can't help but smile.

one day, he'll break in your house holding your hand while he does it with you squeezing him just as tight, crying out his name and wanting nothing else in this world but him.

one day.

"order for shu!" your sweet voice calls out to him. shu runs over to the pick up area and receives it, again your skin featherlight against his own. "enjoy your day, shu."

oh, he will.

he flashes you a smile as he went to take a sip, leaving the cafe to go back home.

when he sits down to get some work done, shu's head begins to ache terribly. was it because he was staring head on at his computer for too long? that and he stayed awake enjoying you?

"i should lie down," shu hisses, the pressure on his head getting worse. the moment he collapses on the bed, his eyelids are already closing

the last thing he saw being his bedroom door opened by a stranger

"shu, baby?"

"my love, come on, wake up."

"don't make me wait too long, shu, baby."

at the continuous pleads for him to exit the sleeping world, shu finally cracks his eyes open.

only to realize he's sitting in a chair, his hand bound behind the backrest and his legs tied to the chair legs.

the culprit?

"y-y/n?"

your eyes widen and a smile stretches itself across your face. your cheeks are bright red as you skitter over to shu.

"good, you're finally awake!"

so you were the one asking him to wake up from before... hold on, what happened again? oh... the drink.

shu couldn't help but laugh, lying back onto the chair as if he wasn't being tied tight against it. "sometimes i wonder if you became a barista only to find the opportunity to drug their drinks."

you giggle, proceeding to sit on his lap. "only for the cute ones."

"actually," he never told you his address though... and he's been watching you for a long time. how did you...? "how did you know where i lived?"

"oh, i thought you would be smarter," a grin paints onto your beautiful face. you trace his jawline, breath becoming one with his. "i had my eye on you the moment you dropped that wallet, my love. having a little peek inside wasn't that hard. also, shu, baby."

you take something from behind him and in the faint light, scissors shine as you show it to him.

you lick your lips, enticing his feral needs for you, "don't think you could get away with what you did last night."

shu's mouth is wide open, but his cheeks are bright pink. this didn't scare him. fuck no.

it made him even more excited.

you drag the blade from under his shirt, teasing his delicate skin with the sharp metal. then you start snipping his top apart, leaving only his bare chest for you to revel in.

"let me have a go, alright?" you giggle, throwing the scissors aside.

shu grinned, laughing himself as he pressed his forehead against yours. "you can have at me as much as you want, baby."

Masterlist!

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ashleyh713fanfics · 2 months

Text

Dazai x Odasaku!Sister

Chapter 2 "I Could Really Go For Some Curry"

Summary: After Dazai lost the previous bet, he is now officially Odasaku's little sister's boyfriend. But does she really know what she's asking for? How could she want to date a demon?

Warning: Self destructing Dazai, Odasaku death mentions, slight bsd wan content mention, manipulative behavior from both sides. I gave Oda's sister a name but you can imagine it as y/n.

(This is chapter two of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. )

Three Part Intro Here: (just cause the first chapter is so long) Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 5k

----

Walking down the long port mafia corridors, Dazai placed his hands inside of his pockets before tuning out the world around him in order to fully envelop himself in his own dark thoughts.

Last night's events appeared a moment later, causing the boy’s eyes to narrow with distasteful memory. He didn’t mean to agree to Odasaku’s sister's foolish request for him to be her boyfriend, it just sort of happened in the moment.

And the longer he got from that moment, the more Dazai Osamu regretted it.

Now don’t be mistaken, it wasn’t like he actually cared about the girl. The mafioso knew he was incapable of such a thing. Sure, he was enticed but it was surface level at best. The truth was, if she was anyone else Dazai would’ve already broken her for fun.

But it was the fact that she was Odasaku’s sister that made him hold back from such a desire. He knew deep down that his old friend wouldn’t have wanted her to be destroyed, especially by his fingers. Hell, the boy knew he wouldn’t have wanted Dazai anywhere near her.

That’s what Ango said, why Oda had kept her a secret, why he kept her out of Yokohama and by giving into her request he knew he was already dishonoring his memory in the worst possible way.

But try as he may, Dazai just couldn’t walk away, knowing that a piece of his precious found family was still here in this world. He had wished for it, craved it with his entire soul as he grieved his death.

And like a miracle, Asagao had appeared to answer his prayer.

That’s why he agreed, it wasn’t because of her, it wasn’t because he had grown a heart suddenly, it was to use her. It was to keep Odasaku in his life no matter how small.

He was selfish, so unbelievably selfish, wanting more than he deserved.

But even the brutal port mafia executive knew that his reasonings were fucked up. He knew that he shouldn’t be manipulating such a pure soul into his own whims. But how else was he supposed to do it? Dazai only knew how to exploit and control.

Pushing his fingers to his chin in silent thought, Dazai paused his steps. He supposed he could play the part of a devolved lover while using her. That’s what she wanted anyways, right? She did ask him to be her boyfriend. But how could he do that without being manipulative and underhanded in order to not shame Odasaku?

He then thought back to his past “relationships” before frowning to himself. Now that he mentioned it, the boy never did anything besides that. He always just used women when he saw fit and left them crying once he was finished with his physical needs.

Well that wasn’t gonna work.

Damn it, being a good person was harder than he thought.

Although that’s when a familiar voice broke through his personal bubble as a flash of annoying orange crossed his vision. “Hey, shitty Dazai. What are you doing standing in the damn way like that? You finally figure out how insufferable you are?”

Already feeling a sense of dread in his throat, Dazai then looked up from his solitude in order to focus on his idiot partner in front of him. And just like that, any deep thought flew from his mind in order to participate in his favorite activity.

Pissing the kid off. “Wooow, that’s a big word for you Chuuya, I didn't know you had it in you, considering you’re so small..”

Already seeing his eyes twitch in response, Chuuya’s face filled with anger in order to reach forward and grab onto Dazai’s jacket with a rough shout. “Ha?! I dare you, say that to me again jackass and see what happens!!”

The boy only smirked though, enjoying the pure reaction he got. Chuuya never failed to bring him entertainment. He was the best toy around. Every word that got under his skin was like music to the demon’s ears.

And although he wouldn’t ever admit it, Dazai knew that his partner brought life to the boring mediocrity of his sad pathetic life, if only for a moment. They were the closest thing each other had to the term “friends”, in a fucked up, manipulative, forced to be together kinda way.

Yet even so, Dazai couldn’t help but enjoy poking fun at the boy. Perhaps it was because Chuuya was so human to him while he was the opposite?

Turning his head up in challenge, Dazai then indeed dared. “What, am I too tall for you to understand me the first time? Can’t hear me all the way from up here, Chuuya? Or should I say petite mafia?”

Then all at once, Dazai reveled in the boy’s face, his eyes practically bulging from his skin as he tightened his grip on the bandaged boy with unmatched fury. “P-Petite?! Who are you calling petite, you social misfit!”

Shaking the boy around a couple times, Chuuya then seemed to realize the manipulation before roughly letting go of his shitty partner with an aggravated sigh. “God, the first thing I have to see once I get back is your shitty face? Talk about bad luck.”

Dazai only nodded in response though, his shoulders moving in a disgruntled shrug. “You’re telling me. I was enjoying my day until you came along and ruined it.”

And for once, it seemed like the boy’s agreed on something, Chuuya’s eyes immediately moving past the bandaged annoyance in order to shove his hands into his pockets. “Well that makes two of us, shitty mackerel. Now get out of my way. I gotta go inform the boss about the mission. Do me a favor and go kill yourself while I’m gone.”

Yet that’s when Dazai’s eyes sparkled with pure joy for his partner’s dark request, lifting his hands up in an excited and bubbly wave. “Say less!”

Realizing his words had the opposite effect, Chuuya then paused for a moment before closing his eyes with an exasperated mutter. “Such a pain in my ass, I swear.”

Of course he’d be happy about that kinda request, the sick bastard.

And as Chuuya started to leave, Dazai couldn’t help but lower his eyes in silent thought. What would his partner say to Odasaku’s odd request to be good? Would he laugh at him, would he tell him that it was impossible? The boy didn’t know.

Chuuya was always so real and human, surely he would be able to treat Oda’s sister with the care that she deserved. If he was in Dazai’s position the boy would’ve probably had a million ideas on how to go about Asagao’s ridiculous request.

But he wasn’t Chuuya, he wasn’t human, he was something else entirely.

Something wrong.

Dazai knew he didn’t have the capacity or ability to carefully hold Odasaku’s greatest treasure between his fingers and not crush her. He was inadequate and insufficient in every possible way.

Allowing his voice to escape a moment later, Dazai turned towards the red haired kid slowly. “Hey Chuuya..”

The boy only expected another insult though, his shoulders immediately going rigid in order to turn back with a high pitched short. “What?!”

And for a moment, Dazai remained silent, willing the words to his mind. How do I be good? How can I honor Odasaku’s wish when I’m so defective? How can I be more human like you?

Pushing his lips together in order to suck in a heavy breath, the boy then dropped his hands before giving Chuuya a tight forced smile. “Nothing, never mind.”

Chuuya paused at that though, his head turning at the strange new atmosphere only for Dazai to add playfully. “I was just going to say that your outfit today is super tacky. Where did you get it from again? The emo bargain bin?”

Then all at once, all the concern seemingly drained from Chuuya’s face in order for it to be replaced by pure visceral hatred. “You..that’s it you bandaged wearing freak! I’m gonna make you regret that!!”

And as he watched Chuuya stalk over to him in order to wash the unpleasant feelings and emotions from his mind the boy smiled bitterly. Who was he kidding? He could never ask such a ridiculous thing.

Dazai knew the answer already anyways.

He knew that anything other than this was impossible for him.

Asagao would be disappointed in him also, just like he knew Odasaku was.

-----

Humming to herself, Asagao skipped through the kitchen, mentally making a checklist of everything in her mind before turning towards the clock on the left in order to physically jump and try to hype herself up.

It was almost time, everything had to be perfect.

The girl then frowned to herself in order to place a hand to her head in confusion. There was something she was missing. But what could it be? It’s like it was on the tip of her tongue.

Rubbing her face, Asagao’s face then lit up with realization before quickly grabbing the large framed glasses by the counter in order to shove them back on her face.Then all at once, the familiar blurry sight reappeared like magic causing her to sigh in relief.

Ah, that was a close one.

The last thing she wanted was to ruin this with her freakish clever eyes.

Just then, she heard the doorbell ring only for Asagao to quickly hurry to the surface and throw it open with an excited gasp as she beamed. “Osu! There you are! You really came back! Ah, I’m so happy! Come in, come in, make yourself at home!”

The boy himself felt rather whiplashed by the sudden joy, his fingers reaching up to the doorframe and leaning forward with a cocky smirk in order to invade her personal space. “Ah, Asa-chan. You missed me that much? I’m flattered, really.”

He expected her to blush at the distance yet the girl only nodded her head like the answer was obvious to her. “Of course! I’ve been thinking about it all day. This is the first time someone’s actually come back when promised they would. Why wouldn’t I be happy about that?”

Her words were rather sad but it didn’t show on her face, causing Dazai’s eyes to watch her curiously. It was like she didn’t allow the reality of her words to fully register inside her brain. Was that some kind of coping mechanism or something? It certainly seemed like it.

She did that a lot, with Odasaku’s death and now with that depressing revelation.

So much so, Dazai couldn’t help but tease her about it, not knowing how to do anything else. Sure, a good person would’ve felt pity or tried to reassure her about it, but that wasn’t something that the boy was capable of.

Turning his head in fake sympathy, he mocked. “What a pitiful little thing you are, darling. I bet you were so lonely back home, what with no friends or family. My heart is bleeding for you.”

He hit her where it hurt, knowing that it would garner a reaction of some sort. Perhaps once she realized who she was letting into her home then she would rethink this entire ridiculous agreement and run away like she should’ve in the first place.

Yet Dazai was certainly surprised when Asagao replied a moment later with absolutely no annoyance or sadness. No, she only looked rather unbothered about it. “Your bet is correct! To put it plainly, everyone back home hated me. The minute I stopped masking and took off my glasses they ran for the hills!”

He then watched in stunned silence as she gave a carefree girlish giggle of unbothered misery in order to turn around from Dazai and walk back into Odaskau’s old apartment. “Now what are we standing out here for? Come on, the foods gonna get cold if we wait anymore..”

Watching her disappear into the room, the boy couldn’t help but remain quiet, feeling his fingers fall from the doorframe and down by his side. He thought for sure she’d get mad at him or cry about his little comment.

But it was just like before, she didn’t register his words, like her mind didn’t allow her to.

Damn it, she was the complete opposite of Chuuya. She wasn’t hot headed or pathetically reactive. This was new territory, something he wasn’t used to at all.

Because of that, the mafioso then frowned before forcing himself into the familiar apartment with unsure and uneasy steps. He didn’t like this, the feeling of not being in control. He needed to get it back and fast.

Yet the further he got into Odasaku’s place, he felt his heart twist with familiar pain and grief. The ghosts of the past were back, circling around him as he reluctantly sat at his usual place, his fingers touching the cold wooden table with a sigh.

It was just before, everything felt empty here.

Although that’s when the fifteen year old looked up only to find a steaming bowl of curry in front of him as his eyes couldn’t help but widen in memory, recalling Odasaku’s last words to him.

Holding on for dear life, Dazai felt his knuckles turn white as he watched his only friend, the only man who understood him slip from life. “People live to save themselves, it’s something they realize before they die, huh?”

Then the boy watched as Oda’s lips formed into a small smile as his eyes fluttered close, his voice hoarse and hauntingly final. “I could really go..for some..curry..”

Blinking back to reality, Dazai stared at the seemingly mundane dish before his fingers curled against the table with unexplainable emotion. And if the boy knew how to cry or even what that concept was, he knew he’d be sobbing at this very moment.

Luckily though, the suffocating feeling was overtaken when Asagao slid into the spot across from him before smiling happily in order to pick up her chopsticks. “I hope you don’t mind, Oda’s letters didn’t say what your favorite food was so I just picked mine. Ah, I’m so excited. I could really go for some curry right now.”

And the moment the words left her lips, Dazai’s head immediately snapped up with anxious desperation he couldn’t hide. She had just said the same thing Odasaku did, she just said his last words. Didn’t she know the weight they had?

Just hearing them again, it felt like he was here right now. It was like his best friend was telling the boy that he was still around in her eyes. It was overwhelming, the empty hole inside his heart suddenly becoming full with a feeling he thought was lost the day he died.

Asa seemed to notice his silence though, her head turning in concern. “Do you not like curry? Ah, sorry, I didn’t ask first. If you tell me what you like I can make it next time. I’m a pretty good cook, you know?”

Dazai only shook his head though, feeling the very familiar fifteen year old pathetic kid overtake him in order to whisper back a sad broken reply. “N-No…I like it…”

And thankfully, Asagao didn’t point out the uncharacteristic tone, her head only nodding in confirmation before changing the subject, something that Dazai was incredibly grateful for.

Mostly because he knew he was falling apart by the second. “Since you’re here, I thought we could talk about our agreement last night. Like go into specifics and such..”

Shoving down the unruly emotion in his throat, the boy recalled back to his statement before pushing his head up with forced interest. What was she talking about, what did she want him to do? Because whatever it was Dazai knew she was looking in the wrong place.

A loyal boyfriend, a lovesick fool, a cheesy romantic? Yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen. Sure, he could fake those kinds of things but only for so long. She was so passionate about wanting him last night. What a delusional girl.

He already knew he wouldn’t be able to offer anything of value.

Turning his head in fake flirty intent, Dazai lowered his eyes sensually, hoping it would make her uncomfortable. “Specifics? Ah, Asa-chan you're so dirty. What did you have in mind?”

Asa only put her hand up in response though, stopping whatever depravity he was implying. “Now, I don’t want you to be mistaken, I know I asked you to be my boyfriend but I wouldn’t expect you to do any of that mushy touchy stuff or anything like that. I know that’s not your style anyways and I don’t wanna force you into something uncomfortable.”

At that, the boy couldn’t help but drop the act, his eyes turning in confusion. What? If she didn’t want that mushy crap then why did she even ask for all this in the first place? She said that she had fallen for him. Was that a lie?

Although that’s when Asagao shrugged her shoulders plainly. “I mean let’s be honest here, the only reason you're here is because you’re using me.”

Feeling his fingers pause on his chopsticks, Dazai paused in order to look up at her innocently in order to try to fool her. “Oh, am I?”

Asa wasn’t fooled though, the girl only humming back. “Mhmm. I’m useful to you because I’m related to Oda and if I was anyone else you wouldn’t have ever agreed.”

Then all at once, Dazai felt his stomach drop in guilt for his own black soul.

Shit, she had read him. She had seen through his real intentions so quickly. Well of course she did, Odasaku did say that her world spun as fast as his. But then that begged the question, if Asagao knew about his cruel intent, why was she still humoring him?

He received his answer a moment later, watching as Asagao simply placed her chopsticks down in order to turn her eyes back at him with cruel and calculating vigor.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. If you must know, I’m using you also, Osamu.”

And even though her eyes were blocked by the large rimmed glasses on her face, Dazai already knew what kind of expression was underneath. She was looking at him just like last night back in that alley. He remembered it in an instant.

That cruel hollow look she showed him before, it was the same now. He knew it was.

It was like she was eying some kind of prey, and unlucky for him Dazai seemed to be the one on the menu today. So they both had plans to use each other? That was her play? How interesting.

Allowing her to continue, Asagao then lifted her hands up before speaking with precise precision. “We both want what each other can offer. We both are searching for my brother in different ways and think we can find it in each other. That’s why I suggested our partnership in the first place. Because it would be mutually beneficial.”

Twisting her lips into a sly calculating smirk, Asagao then placed her fingers underneath her chin in order to lean forward and finish. “Besides, once I found out how connected you two were, I knew I wasn’t going to let you go. I’m sure it’s the same for you, right, Osu?”

And it was, it was the exact same, so much so that he didn’t want to admit it. Odasaku was right, they did have the same minds. They both saw each other as chess pieces on a board and collected each other for their own personal games.

They both had plans to use each other in order to will Oda Sakunosuke back to life.

So much so, Dazai felt his entire tone shift, allowing the demon prodigy to overtake the conversation and his eyes to darken with sickening glee. “Ah, you got me Asa-chan. Nothing gets past you, does it? What do you suggest then? What can you offer to me?”

Asagao didn’t seem to mind though, her entire demeanor calm even though she was making a deal with the devil. “You come over every once in a while and tell me stories about my brother and in exchange I’ll show you a letter in return for each one. That way we both keep him in our lives.”

Waving her hand away, the calculating aura then dissipated slightly in order to smile sweetly in the direction of his hollow empty eyes. “And once I stop becoming useful to you then you are free to throw me away and move on. Although, I do ask that when you decide to do so, you don’t tell me. I absolutely despise endings. I like to live more in the moment then think about the horrors of the future.”

Her offer was tempting to say the least, with it he would be able to use the girl as he pleased for his own desire while she did the same. He wouldn’t have to change his underhanded and manipulative ways because Asagao would be fully aware of what he was trying to do.

It seemed perfect, too perfect actually. Was Odasaku’s sister really okay with them using each other and then throwing them away when the time was up? Sure, he would be able to do it no problem but Dazai wasn’t sure about her.

What if in doing so he managed to crush her accidentally? He didn’t trust himself not to. Not at all. Hell, Dazai knew the damage he could do if left to his own devices.

Pushing his hand underneath his chin in silent thought, the boy’s lethally dangerous gaze then followed her as he made his way around the table and into her space.“And what if I shatter your poor little heart in the process? Like I said, I’m not a good man, sweetheart. I know you said you’d be fine with me breaking you, but have you really thought about what that really means?”

Yet try as he may, Asagao was not shaken, her shoulders simply shrugging to his very obvious threat in order to turn and meet him halfway. “If you’re trying to scare me it’s not going to work.”

The boy only hummed though, his fingers reaching forward in order to trail a calculating line across her cheek. “Isn’t it? What if I told you that your big brother wouldn’t approve of you hanging around me so much?”

And for a moment, Asagao froze, but it wasn’t because of his touch, her eyes moving down before answering back less confident than before. “.. I don’t believe that. My brother wouldn’t have written about you so much if he didn’t want me to know about you.”

She believed that with her whole heart, knowing that Oda’s letters held so much love and care for the fifteen year old boy. If her brother didn’t want her to find Osu then he wouldn’t have ever said anything.

He must have known how much it meant to her, to have someone to relate to after so many years. Of course she’d never actually know though, considering Asa never had the opportunity to ask him. Everything was just an assumption, but this was one assumption she was actually confident about.

Dazai didn’t seem to think so though, Ango’s poisonous warnings still fresh in his ears.

“You asked why Oda never mentioned her to you. It’s because destruction and corruption follows you everywhere, Dazai. He knew how black your soul is and what you could do to her if given the chance. The demon prodigy has no place out of the darkness, and I'm sure you know that also.”

He knew his best friend more than anyone, even more than her. Of course he didn’t want Dazai near her. If he did then he would’ve told him about her years ago. And here he was, dishonoring his memory because he was too god damn selfish to live in a world without him.

So much so, he urged for her to understand how wrong she was.

Trailing his fingers down, Dazai then darkened before latching his thumb and forefingers onto her chin in order to force her head towards his with a rough display. He felt the tips of his nails dig into her pretty pink cheeks in order to dip his head down until they were mere inches apart.

Then all at once, the port mafia executive allowed every bit of evil to show in his eyes before speaking cruelly across the space just above her lips with a cruel hovering smile. “Yes, but hearing about me and actually being here are two completely different things, darling. I’m sure Odasaku didn’t expect you to be near so much danger so willingly, so eager to give yourself to the darkness.”

He left her there in the madness, in that helpless controlless position, waiting for her to break away or cry for his rough movements. No, she needed to walk away, she needed to go because he wasn't going to. He didn’t have the strength to do something so kind.

Feeling his fingers dig further into her flesh with unsaid desperation, Asagao’s lips then began to move between the space underneath his, her breath coating the distance as she spoke. “You don’t have to do this, Osamu. I already understand. I understand that you don’t want to lose the last piece of my big brother you have left. You’re scared, scared that you’ll be left with nothing again..”

Dazai's eyes then flashed with anxiety before pulling away only slightly in order to see Asagao’s warm reassuring smile. “Have some faith in me, Osu. I’m not as fragile as you might think.”

Feeling his heart twist and turn in every single unpleasant direction, his fingers started to turn numb between her skin. She already knew what he was trying to do, she knew he was giving her a way out and still wasn’t taking it.

That’s when Dazai felt his entire body tense as he felt her fingers reach forwards in order to cover his hand with her own before closing her eyes in equal emotion to what he was feeling.

And when she spoke, it was so sincere and honest, shaking him to his entire core. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Almost immediately, he felt his fingers snap back from hers, not liking the close contact before he leaned away with wide eyes. What was she saying?

Touching someone else was child’s play for him but he never liked it when someone did it back. It was too vulnerable, too exposed. And it was the same here, the boy trying his best not to show the pure panic on his face.

What she just said, she didn’t mean it anyways. She couldn't have. Everyone always disappeared from him, everything eventually slipped through his fingers. How dare she make such a ridiculous promise. How dare she give him hope that it will be different this time.

It wasn’t different with Odasaku and it won’t be different with his precious little sister.

Because of that, Dazai’s voice couldn’t help but come out bitter, knowing better than anyone how unfair the world was to him. “You don't know that.”

Asa then paused before putting a finger to her lips in silent thought before answering back with a nod of understanding. “Well no, I guess I don’t. I can’t predict the future or anything. But why do we gotta think that far ahead? Why can’t we just enjoy the time we have right now?”

Oda’s sister then closed her eyes before thinking about the meaning of her own words. Perhaps Osamu was right, perhaps things would turn out bad for them in the end. But if that was the price she had to pay to finally get closer to her brother, she knew she would gladly take it tenfold.

Besides, if there was a possibility of things ending horribly then that meant there was also a possibility that things could do the opposite. And whether it was foolish or not, Asagao chose to focus on the impossible odds that this could work out okay.

Then she opened her eyes before smiling softly. “For today, all you have to worry about is being yourself and I’ll do the same. It’s as simple as that.”

Picking up her chopsticks once more, Asagao then beamed before purposely changing the subject before he could disagree with her positive statement. “Now go on, tell me a story about my brother. I’m dying to hear one!”

But for Dazai, the boy felt his fingers curve into his bandaged arms with an emotion he didn’t know he possessed. He thought that Oda’s sister would’ve been disappointed by him and maybe that would be true in the future but today it seemed that wasn’t the case.

And that was enough to make him strangely happy, feeding into the delusion automatically in order to look down at the curry on the table. “Well, one night we were talking and Odasaku thought I mentioned curry so I told him that we should cook one night and make one all together..”

He then watched as Asagao leaned further into the table, absolutely entranced by his every word like it was her life support. “Oooh what kind were you going to make?”

Feeling his lights start to light up with memory, Dazai recalled the conversation with ease. “Well at first I suggested that we all bring something and put it in a pot, but then I got the idea to make my world famous special superhuman stamina hot pot! It’s made with leftovers from my last superhuman hot pot that I accidentally burned mixed with vinegar and tabasco that’s wrapped and concealed with kindness and love!”

The boy then chuckled to himself as Asagao gasped in pure awe. “Wow, that’s a lot of ingredients!”

Nodding back happily, Dazai beamed. “I know, right?! But out of all the ingredients love is the most important part. You can’t forget that!”

The girl then pushed another bit of curry into her mouth before swallowing with an excited reply. “Wait, what did my brother and Ango say about it though?”

Pushing his hands on the table, the boy let another chuckle escape his lips, remembering the conversation clear as day. “Ango said that it wouldn’t be good but when he asked Odaskau he said..”

Asa then watched as his words gave out completely, his eyes softening in order to slump down back into his seat with a sad grief filled smile as she pleaded back. “What did he say?”

The air was solemn, coursing through both of them immediately before Dazai spoke again, except this time it was far quieter than before. “He said… Why wouldn’t it be good? Dazai said so ..”

His face showed with so much admiration and unexplainable sadness that it caused Asagao to soften as well before smiling at the bond the two shared that she would never understand. “It sounds like Oda knew a good hot pot when he heard it.”

Then all at once, she watches the fifteen year old boy’s face light up with pure joy at Odasaku sister’s words, that small giddy excitement coming back tenfold. “He did!! I mean why wouldn’t it be good?! It’s eye-meltingly, cheek popping-ly good! So Odasaku promised me that he would try it! Ango looked like he wanted to die though! It was so funny..and then..”

And as he spoke stories of his old friend, he couldn't help but soak in Asagao’s responses, her eyes never leaving him even for a moment as he spoke about Odasaku so honestly for the first time since his death.

She reveled in it just as much as he did, hanging on every word like they were the only things that mattered to each other. And they were, Odasaku’s memory was the most precious thing either one had.

So much so, Dazai couldn’t help but feel his shoulder relax for the first time in weeks. Feeling that same calm, comfortable peace he did whether he was at Bar Lupin.

And for a couple delusional moments, Oda somehow felt alive again.

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