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roosterforme · 1 month

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

--------------------------

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

-------------------------

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

-----------------------------

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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aethercores · 3 months

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✮ GREEN TINTED ;

alternatively, what are you, jealous? ft. rafayel, xavier, zayne + gn!reader/mc [non-established relationships] 1.2k+

can you really blame him? sure, rafayel’s had all the chances in the world to come to terms with your oft-busy life, but he’d brushed those away with the practiced swipe of an easy hand. you'd promised him your attention, after all, and the sea had bore witness to your vow. he finds the finer details don't really matter, even if all his whining after you've missed a few calls might lead you to think otherwise.

it's your new profile picture, though.

rafayel's usually the first to notice any changes to your icon or any new moments, and just as quick to take on your thoughts for any changes to his own. he'd never given any thought to reciprocation, to you asking him for his opinion on which picture of yours might be cutest to post but— there's some... some guy there. and you've got your hands cupped around his face while he stares at the camera like a fish out of water.

with the light press of his teeth to the insides of his cheek, rafayel tries to brush this off. whatever 'this' is. his fingers swipe over to your chat log of their own accord. he'd been meaning to message you anyway, maybe he can just remind you there's way better pictures in that photo album that he knows you keep?

keen eyes swipe over your last exchange. 'read'. like sand grains on an oil palette, he only barely feels the grit before impulse rushes over like a tidal wave—

playing kitty cards at home isn't quite the same as at meow's café, but xavier's found that there's a different feeling that comes from having you in his home like this. the cozy arrangement of blankets and little cushions across the living room floor. the warm tea on the table between you. the shared space. it's not quite the same, but he prefers it.

it's with a loss at the end of a few rounds that you smile, thoughts drifting from your defeat, stretching your arms above you before slumping back a little. "i might have to get going," you say lightly, checking the time. late afternoon. "i'm meeting up with zayne later."

his brows furrow, a delicate gesture as his eyes stray from your own across the low table, searching for recognition in memory. that you've named anyone clues him into the fact that this is not a new introduction, that you've mentioned them before. it is familiar but, among the friends and family he's heard of in passing or between exchanges, this one's a little different—

"your physician?" he asks, face tilting upwards as you rise to a stand, the blanket drapping softly back onto the floor. "dr. zayne?"

the smile on your face grows a little then, amusement playing in your eyes for reasons unknown, but xavier's always felt warmest with it in sight. even if he is a little confused.

"well. yes," you laugh a little, "but we've known each other since we were kids, so the 'dr. zayne' part is still taking some getting used to."

there's a lot of context missing here, that much he can tell. it seems you become aware of that gap too, your intentions divided between the hunter watch you check once more and the cooling tea in your cup. you smile at xavier once more, a little apologetic, and he wonders if your attentions are similarly divided.

there's not really any time for that, though, but he's left with the thought a little longer after you're gone. brushes his thumb over the lip of your cup. leaves it undisturbed.

the look zayne fixes you with is placid. that is, to the untrained eye. cool eyes draw calmly from your hunter watch, propped face down upon the table, back to your own. it's subtle, but meaningful, and he knows that you know him well enough by now to know better.

"just ignore it," you say, hand waving through the air in easy dismissal, and he pretends not to see the way your grin widens as you peer up from your card hand to the complex array of kitty cups before you both, currently at an impasse.

it'd been an odd choice, he'd noted as you both sat down in the café, to separate the device from your person. after all, zayne had seldom seen you without it ever since you'd become a hunter, an essential piece in both the professional and personal capacity. he'd know.

irony answers the call to action as the watch flashes once again — the fifth occurrence in a three minute interval — and a small vibration lightly rattles one of the closest cups. a double-pointer blue proudly boosting your score by +10.

it startles you, and you send a minutely too-prolonged glare to the offending piece as though it had purposely made to sabotage your entire game.

he smiles, lightly. "would you like to swap cards?"

you're not a good bluff. though you shake your head, another flash rattles the cup before you've had the chance to verbalise your thoughts. zayne takes the cue, and considers his own hand — catalogues his assists and future turn order — before speaking, "someone's trying hard to reach you. are you certain it's not an emergency?"

you laugh a little. "no, i'd know." the bare hint of a scoff follows, and he can tell it isn't aimed at him, but it seems mostly good-natured, a little teasing. "bad timing, but i did say i had plans today."

someone vying for your time.

it's not something he's given much consideration to before, as someone with such a stringent schedule of his own. zayne decidedly ignores the light flare in his chest at the choice you'd made and doesn't linger on a hypothetical cause. pride has an interesting way of unfurling set shoulders with just the lightest of touches.

you do end up winning the game, though he doesn't entirely feel as though he's lost. you both settle outside the café as you readjust your scarf, the breeze picking up a chill.

zayne waits, patient, turned towards you. "i still have the rest of the day off," he says. it must not say much to you, this half-sentence of his, as you blink up at him. his eyes drift upwards.

a precise, but gentle hand, carefully brushes the top of your head, cool fingers lightly touching your temple before coming away with a stray leaf. he smiles, lightly, and his gaze returns to you once more, elucidating, "is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

he feels a different sort of flare in his chest as he watches as your eyes light up, your excitement suffusing through even the layers keeping you warm.

"yeah, there's—" a subtle, but sudden, flash emits. below, from where your watch has been reunited with your wrist once more. you deflate a little, then perk up a little, made indecisive and a little troubled by some sort of unforeseen circumstance. "there's this food market, but i already promised xavier we'd go later tonight... rain check?"

zayne's eyes glance between your own for a moment before he nods, calmly assenting to the offer, and bypasses the unfamiliarity of the name and the implied familiarity of those plans. there's a light press, a pull just on the edge of taut, between his shoulder blades. he lightly shifts them, a little heavier. doesn't verbalise questions that even he leaves unacknowledged.

"of course."

#zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #zayne got the one-two this time bc the other 2 had to contend w him #c.writing

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

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Travel Day II

Wonze x Child!Reader

England Lionesses x Wonze!Reader

Summary: A normal day with you is fairly stressful

You run around a lot with Ella and Lessi as soon as Mummy lets you go but you get bored of them quite easily. You wander over to Beth, whom you haven't seen in a while.

Usually, there's another little girl with her and your brow furrows when you don't find your friend.

"Erm...Beth...where's-where's..." You can't really remember her name but you know that she's got a nickname like you. "Where's liefje?"

Beth laughs slightly. "Sorry, peanut. She's gone with Viv to the Netherlands camp this time."

You huff. "Why?"

"Well, Viv wanted to show her what it's like in the Netherlands."

"But why?"

"Well, Viv's her mother too. Sometimes they like to do stuff like that together."

"Does it make you sad? My Mum might be sad if I spent all my time with Mummy."

"No." Beth shakes her head. "She's only had Viv for a little while. You've had your Mum and Mummy all your life."

You kind of get it so you nod. "Can I play with liefje next time then?"

"Next time," Beth agrees and you hurry off.

Your next targets are huddled in the corner and you barrel over, climbing up onto Hempo's lap before she realises what you're doing.

Chloe laughs at Hempo's shocked face as you wiggle your way onto her lap. Hempo's doing Lego again but it's just the beginning of it right now so you're not too sure what it is just yet.

"Hi, peanut," Chloe says in greeting," I haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm in Spain," You reply, reaching out for the little instruction booklet that you can't read but can inspect the pictures," With Mum and Mummy there."

"Yeah," Chloe says, glancing around before sliding her plate of snacks closer to you," Are you enjoying it there?"

"It's hot," You reply, biting down on a chocolate biscuit," And makes Mum sweaty so I don't like her hugging me."

Chloe laughs just as Hempo moves to help you click a piece into place and fish out a new one.

"Mummy can hug me though," You continue," She's friends with Aitana. Aitana's nice. Mum's friends with Mapi'. Mummy says it's because they're both children."

Both Chloe and Hempo laugh now and you beam at them, not really getting the joke but not wanting to be left out.

Mummy approaches you a few moments later, taking your hand gently and guiding you to the toilet before practice.

"I don' need the potty," You try to tell her.

"Well, let's just try," Mummy says," Just have a try for me."

You don't like the way she seems to know your body better than you do because you do end up going to the toilet and, when you leave your stall, she's still in her own.

You don't really like the toilets (they always smell a little strange) so you scamper outside to wait for Mummy there.

You know that after the toilet break, Mummy will take you upstairs to get changed and then maybe try to send you to sleep so you'll be out cold when she and Mum bring you to practice.

You don't want to do either and take your brief respite from being supervised to bolt.

You know your way around St George's Park like you know your way around Camp Nou and you pick through the hallways with ease. Sometimes, you and Beth's liefje run around together through these same corridors so you take a sharp left through a heavy fire door and creep into a meeting room, poking your head around the doorframe.

Sarina's there. She's Mum and Mummy's boss sometimes, like how Jonatan is their boss in Spain too.

She's looking through paperwork at her desk, looking incredibly bored so it's no wonder that she spots you easily.

"Hello." She gets up from her seat, ushering you inside and glancing around. "Where is Keira and Lucy?"

"Mummy's in the toilet. Dunno where Mum is. What are you doing?"

Sarina lets out a little huff of amusement and guides you further inside. "Just some paperwork," She says," Do you want a snack?"

She pulls open a drawer and lets you peer inside. You take a packet of chocolate, sitting down at Sarina's feet to start eating.

You sit at Mum's feet sometimes and crawl under tables at Barcelona when it gets a bit too loud so this is somewhat second nature.

You don't know how long you sit there but soon Sarina's getting you to your feet and holding your hand so you don't run off again.

There's a certain energy in the air as you head out onto the pitch. Some of the girls are milling around anxiously, calling out things as they look around the barriers.

"What has gotten into them?" Sarina mutters under her breath.

"I think they're looking for the little one," The silly social media man says as he films your and Sarina's arrival," Keira lost her."

"Did not lose!" You say, stamping your foot," Mummy was in the toilet!"

"Regardless," Mum's familiar voice says behind you," You had us all worried, peanut."

She takes you from Sarina, holding you securely on her hip as she hurriedly sprints towards the rest of the girls. As soon as she gets close, she lifts you up like you're Simba (something that she always does at home when you're watching Lion King).

"I've got her! I've got her!"

Mummy come rushing over, checking you over for injuries.

"God," Auntie Georgia says as she jogs closer," You had us all worried there, peanut. You've got to stop wandering off."

You roll your eyes. "Just having fun."

"You can have fun with Mum and Mummy, peanut," Mum says sternly," No wandering when we're here."

"What about with Auntie Georgia?"

"Yes, with Auntie Georgia," Mummy replies.

"And Lessi and Tooney?" You continue.

"Yes with them too."

You give her a suspicious look. "And Hempo? And Alex?"

"Yes, them as well."

"Then not just have fun with Mum and Mummy," You say and Mummy sighs deeply.

Mum stifles her laugh, ruffling your hair. "Alright, peanut," She says," Now's not the time to make a point. You're lucky no one took you."

You give her a patronising look. "You say to bite people if they try to take me somewhere I don't want to go."

"Lucy! Is that why she bit Paños last week?!"

#woso x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #keira walsh x reader #keira walsh #woso community #engwnt x reader #engwnt #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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tasteleeknow · 1 year

Text

strawberries

pairing: minho + jisung x fem!reader genre: smut. established relationship [boyfriend!minho]. boyfriend’s best friend [jisung]. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 5k

summary: your boyfriend catches his best friend moaning your name.

Minho and Jisung were practically a package deal. Your boyfriend had even brought his best friend along on your third date. “He’s feeling down,” he’d said, the only explanation he’d offered. Luckily, you liked him. He was a little reserved at first, only opening up when you’d been dating Minho a few months. You ended up spending a lot of time with him without Minho, waking up to find your boyfriend had left for work and spending the day with his roommate instead. He was sweet, made you laugh, and you shared a love of Ghibli. It wasn’t until a year into your relationship that Minho had brought his friend’s little crush to your attention.

Minho drapes his arm over you now, pulling you back into his chest. His lips brush against the skin behind your ear as he speaks. “Caught him again,” he mutters. “Got home late and heard him gasping your name.”

warnings: afab!reader. profanity. pet names. possessive behaviour. perv behaviour. food play. unprotected intercourse [dirty talk, breast play/sucking, cum kink, breeding kink, sharing].

“I still don’t believe you,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks warm. He’d been trying to convince you of his friend’s crush for months, informing you of multiple occasions he’d caught him touching himself to the thought of you. Jisung wouldn’t do that, you’d argue. Minho would always laugh, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers and making cooing noises. You’d slap him off, quickly changing the subject.

He wraps his leg around you. “Do you need me to prove it to you? Hm?” he says sweetly, one hand moving up to cup your breast.

You should say no. “How…would you do that?” you ask instead.

He chuckles. “Tease him. He’s incredibly obvious if you pay a little attention.”

You wiggle in his hold, rolling until you're facing him—his limbs still wrapped around you. “You want me to flirt with your best friend?”

“As long as you remember you’re mine,” he says, smiling. He leans forward pressing a firm kiss to your forehead.

“Isn’t it a little…mean?”

“Hm? Not if we reward him.”

“Reward?”

He brushes your hair from your face. “Don’t you think he’s pretty? I’ve noticed you looking.”

You frown. “I don’t look.” Of course you’d noticed he was pretty. How could anyone not.

“It’s okay, baby. You think I'm prettiest, right?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers brushing through his hair. “Fishing for compliments, again?”

“I’m asking you to try and seduce another man, I need a little reassurance.”

“Yes, you’re the prettiest and I love you.”

He nods, humming in approval. “Alright, then you can fuck him.” You huff you a startled laugh, face falling into his chest. When you look at him again the corner of his mouth is turned up, like it always did just before he caused chaos. “I’ll watch,” he adds.

“You’re serious?”

He hums, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. “You’ve never heard him. He chants your name as he cums, so desperate. He wants you so bad, baby. It can be a Christmas present, hm?”

You’d never considered it before. You never considered anyone else, completely fucking obsessed with the man under you. Now that you are picturing it, you can’t help taking him seriously. You imagine him sitting back against the headboard, stroking his cock to the sight of his friend friend fucking you. How could you not consider it seriously? You hum, pressing your lips to his. “Let me think about it,” you murmur.

The next time you see Jisung you can’t get the conversation out of your head. He asks if you want to watch Howl’s Moving Castle with him, offering you one of the peperos he’s snacking on. You nod silently, taking the little stick from him and taking way too long to finish it, nibbling at it as you pay zero attention to the movie. He’s wearing one of his many sleeveless tanks, his black hair flopping down over his eyes. He was very pretty. He turns to look at you suddenly, catching you ogling him.

“What?” he questions.

“Do you want some nutella?” you ask. “For the pepero.”

“Sure,” he says, returning his attention to the movie.

You suck in a few deep breaths as you retrieve the jar, preparing yourself. When you settle yourself back on the couch again you’re close enough for your thighs to brush together. It wasn’t unusual, you’d grown close enough to him that you were a little touchy sometimes. You wrap your hand around the lid, feigning a small groan as you subtly tighten instead of loosening it. You eventually nudge him, holding the jar out to him. “I think Minho screwed it on too tight again,” you say as he takes it from you.

A half eaten pepero hangs from his lips as he wraps his hand around it, biceps flexing as he pops it off easily—handing it back to you casually. “Thank you, Sungie,” you say, wrapping your fingers around his bicep and squeezing gently. His eyes drop to his arm for a moment and you feel his muscles flex just as you release him.

Minho was right. He wasn’t subtle at all. His eyes are on you more than the film from then on, watching as you dip pepero into the jar then sucking the nutella off each one—pushing them in and out of your mouth a few times before nibbling. It convinces you to carry out Minho’s plan, whispering your agreement in his ear later that night as he buries his cock in you. He cums seconds later.

When Minho buys you a new red bikini, you can predict what torture method he has planned for his friend today. He invites Jisung to the beach and reminds you to bring your sunscreen as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. When you arrive, you aren’t surprised at all when he shoves the bottle into Jisung's hands, asking him to help you while he sets up. Jisung stands there awkwardly, looking between you both until you feel sorry for him and beckon him over. “I can do it,” you say, taking the bottle from him and attempting to reach back over your shoulder to lather your upper back.

“Help her!” Minho shouts after a moment, struggling with the beach umbrella.

“Shut up!” you shout back, watching as your boyfriend smiles cheekily at you while his friend's back is turned. You roll your eyes. “Ignore him,” you say to Jisung, continuing to reach over your shoulder.

“I can…I mean I can help,” he offers. “If you want.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, his palm spread over his abs. “Thanks, Sungie.” You offer him a small smile and spread your towel down over the sand, laying yourself down onto your stomach. You close your eyes. It takes him a while to start. You imagine him kneeling beside you, looking back and forth between you and your boyfriend. Then his warm palms smooth over your shoulder blades, massaging the cream into your skin. You keep completely still, not wanting to spook him. He’s thorough, very thorough. You can’t help smiling into your elbow when he pauses, his fingers twitching a little at your lower back. Then he continues, his pinky finger nudging the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“Think you got it all,” Minho says, startling the boy next to you. His hands are off you so quick you have to disguise your laugh as a cough, face still buried in your arms. You lift yourself onto your knees and after giving your boyfriend a quick glance, you wrap your arms around Jisung—pressing your chests together.

“Thank you,” you say before sitting back, watching as his eyes flick down to your cleavage.

“Swim?” Minho asks, helping you up. Jisung doesn’t stand.

“I’ll come in a bit,” he says instead, hand positioned over his crotch. Minho nudges you as you make your way to the water.

“He had a hard on,” he says once you're out of earshot. “In case you missed it.”

“You’re evil.”

He scoops you up in his arms. “And you’re hot.”

You’re lounging on the couch, your fluffy socks resting in Jisung’s lap when the doorbell rings. He lifts your legs from his lap to get it, returning with a small package. You pull your knees to your chest so he can settle back into the lounge. “I don’t remember ordering anything,” he says, pulling his car keys from his pocket to slice the tape from the edges. When he digs into the box and his eyebrows shoot up, you know instantly this was Minho’s dirty work. He lifts something green and lacy, his fingertips holding it like it could explode on him at any moment. You drop your head back. Oh god.

“Um, I think…maybe this is yours,” he says. You lift your head. He’s not looking at you, eyes in his lap as he holds the small package out to you. You take it from him, lifting the lingerie from the box to inspect it. It’s a one piece, kind of. A few pieces of lace connect the bra to the panties. A large emerald green bow made of ribbon sits at the back, just above where your ass would be. It’s pretty and you can imagine Minho asking you to keep it on as he fucks you, slipping the panties to the side so he can enter you.

“I must have… used your account to order accidentally,” you offer in explanation. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says. “It’s pretty.” He snaps his eyes to yours suddenly, like he’s startled by his own words. His cheeks are red. “I mean…it’s a nice colour.”

“You think so?”

“I…uh…yeah.”

You turn it around, showing him the big bow at the back. “Do you think the colour suits my skintone?” you ask. “It’s a little different to how it looked online.”

He’s quiet and when you look up at him, his eyes are fixed on the fabric. “Jisung?” you prompt.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, it’ll suit you,” he says quickly. You offer him a small smile and he jumps off the couch, backing away from you slowly. “I should shower,” he says before turning and disappearing. Just like that.

You wear it that night. Your boyfriend turns you over, his hands smoothing over your ass as he mutters to himself. “Bet he imagined you like this, wrapped up for him like a fucking gift, mm?”

When he pulls the panties aside and pulls you down onto his cock he asks you to explain how his friend had looked when he’d opened it. Tell him again how red he’d gotten. How quickly he’d escaped. He groans into your neck. “He fucked himself to the thought of you like this, didn’t he baby? Imagined your hot cunt around him. Do you think he muttered your name again? Hm?” You cum with a whine, biting into his forearm as he mutters in your ear.

Today is the day Minho announces, tugging you into a sitting position as you rub the sleep from your eyes. “Hm?” you question, hardly awake as he bounces around you.

“I went to the market,” he says, lifting a bag up in front of your face. “Strawberries. Remember our second date when we went to that place that did chocolate fondue? First time we had sex,” he smiles.

You drop back against the pillows, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders. “It’s too early for chocolate,” you mumble.

He places the bag on the ground and climbs over you, pressing you into the mattress. “Tonight?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, keep your eyes closed. “Yeah, sure.”

“You still want to? Fuck him?”

You hum, nodding. “He’s pretty.”

“Not as pretty as me though.”

“Mm, the prettiest,” you mumble.

He presses his lips to your cheek then climbs off you, leaving you to drift back to sleep.

You get home that night to find both men in the kitchen, a complete mess of ingredients and dirty dishes covering every inch of bench space. Jisung is the first to approach you, a big bowl of melted chocolate in his arms. “Look what we made, “ he says, proudly. You reach up to wipe some chocolate from the corner of his mouth, keeping eye contact as you push your thumb between your lips to suck it off.

“It’s yum,” you say before casually walking past him to embrace your boyfriend. “You gonna clean this up?”

“Later,” he says, pulling you tight against him.

“Mm, now. Jisung and I will wait in the living room,” you say, smiling sweetly and kissing him on the cheek. “Where are the strawberries?” His eyes flick between yours, then over your shoulder. Then he releases you, turning to grab a bowl of strawberries and passing it to you.

“Don’t…start without me,” he says.

“We’ll save you some,” you say, huffing out a small laugh at his true meaning. When you turn, Jisung is still standing where you left him—eyes fixed on the chocolate in his arms. You brush his shoulder as you pass. “C’mon, Minho will clean.”

He makes an effort to keep his eyes on the tv as you both take turns dipping the fresh strawberries into the chocolate, even when you lick the mess from your fingers. You’re starting to doubt tonight will be the night Minho had planned and then your boyfriend enters—shirtless.

“You lose your shirt down the kitchen sink?” you ask.

“Got hot,” he says, lifting you onto his lap as he takes your spot on the couch. Jisung shuffles a little away from you both, practically crushing himself against the armrest. Minho reaches for a strawberry from the bowl in his friend's lap then dips it in the chocolate and holds it to your lips. You take a bite, keeping eye contact with your boyfriend as you wrap your lips around it. His eyes drop to your lips then he tugs you a little closer to his torso. When you’re finished chewing he offers you his fingers, letting you suck the chocolate from them. He presses them in and out of your mouth slowly, the noise of the television white noise behind you.

When you finish you turn to the man next to you, his eyes fixed on you. You take a strawberry, dip it in chocolate, then hold it up to him. “You want one, Sungie?” you offer. His eyes drop to the chocolate covered berry between your fingers, then to your boyfriend. Whatever he sees in Minho’s eyes gives him the courage to lean towards you and wrap his lips around the strawberry, his eyes on yours as he bites down.

“Nice?” you ask.

He nods and when he swallows you offer him your fingers. He looks at your boyfriend again then leans forward eagerly, wrapping his lips around you. A small noise escapes his throat. Minho adjusts you in his lap, making his hard cock apparent beneath you. You take turns feeding each other, giving up cleaning the chocolate from your mouths. You eventually lean forward and lick it from your boyfriend's lips, not bothering to hold back your small moans as you taste him.

He stands up, lifting you with him and taking a few steps towards his bedroom. Then he turns, eyes fixing on his best friend on the couch. “You coming?” he asks.

Jisung looks between you both, mouth opening and closing a few times. “What?” he eventually gets out.

“Do you wanna fuck my girlfriend?” Minho asks, tone confident and steady as always—like it was a completely normal thing to ask. You watch Jisung place the bowl next to him, then pick it up again. He stands, rocking back and forth on his feet. You tap Minho’s shoulder, prompting him to let you down. Then you approach the nervous looking, very pretty boy.

You take the empty bowl from him, setting it down on the small table by your legs. “Would you like to have sex with us, Sungie?” you ask, trailing your finger down his arm. His wide eyes flick between yours, his tongue flicking out to lick his plush upper lip.

“You…you want me to…” he trails off.

“Only if you want,” you whisper. “Do you want to?”

He nods quickly, then looks over your shoulder. “Yes,” he says.

“Come on, then,” your boyfriend says. You take Jisung’s hand in yours, offering him a small smile before following your boyfriend to your shared bedroom.

Your boyfriend settles himself against the headboard as you sit Jisung at the edge of the bed. “Should I wear that thing I bought the other day?” you ask him. He swallows, bouncing against the bed as he readjusts his position.

“I, uh… if you want.”

“Tell me what you want,” you say. “Do you want me to wear it?”

“Y-Yeah,” he breathes. You turn and dig through your drawers.

“Good choice,” Minho says from his position on the bed. “She looks like a little gift in that thing. You’ll love it.”

“You’re really… okay with this?” Jisung asks as you find the lingerie.

“You know I hear you, right?” your boyfriend says in response. “Heard you jerking your cock to the thought of her.”

“I… didn’t…I mean I—”

“I want you to fuck her,” Minho interupts.

“Sungie?” you call, pulling his attention back to you just as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. You aren’t wearing anything underneath and he’s quiet as he takes in the sight of you half naked in front of him. You look over his shoulder as your boyfriend pulls the rest of his clothes off, revealing his hard cock. He begins stroking himself, his eyes fixed on you. “Should take your clothes off,” you mutter to Jisung as you pull your shorts down your legs. His eyes snap from your chest as he stands, clumsily pulling the fabric from his body as you step into the lacy, green one piece.

“Come here,” Minho says. “You wanna watch her crawl towards you.”

Jisung does what he says, crawling up the bed to settle beside his best friend. You stand at the end of the bed, taking in the sight of them both waiting for you.

“Pretty,” Jisung mutters. Minho smiles, looking you up and down like he’s proud of you—like you’ve just won an award and he’s watching you perform your acceptance speech.

“Mm,” he hums, stroking himself. “She is, isn’t she?”

You wonder if that’s what this is for him, an extension of his own praise kink—stretched out to include you. It makes you feel warm, the idea that he thought you so much a part of him that compliments towards you had the same effect as ones directed at him. He pats his lap, prompting you to crawl up the bed towards him and climbing into his arms. You moan into his mouth, aware of Jisung’s eyes on you both.

When Minho pulls back, he turns you—lying you back against the pillows and settling himself between your legs. “Come here,” he says to Jisung, pushing your thighs apart. “Tell me what you think about.”

Jisung looks up at you then his eyes drop between your legs, lips parting at the sight of Minho tracing his fingers lightly over you. “What do you think about when you’re fucking yourself to the thought of her?” Minho prompts, eyes fixed on yours. His eyes say: See? Told you I could prove it. You want to reach down and kiss the smug look off his face.

“I-I don’t think I can…I mean…”

“I want to hear, Sungie. It’s okay,” you offer. It’s clear he still hasn’t processed the situation he’s found himself in, not confident enough to answer Minho’s question plainly.

“Do you think about her tits?” Minho asks.

His friend’s eyes trail up your body, pausing on your chest. He nods. “What do you think about?” Minho asks, fingers slipping under the panties to press directly to your cunt. Your hips jump off the bed. You’d been distracted by Jisung, taken off guard by your boyfriend’s movement.

“I think about…about sucking them as I fuck her,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to make out.

Minho strokes you gently, his lips curving up. You’re prepared for what he says next. “You can suck them while I fuck her,” he says. “I’m gonna feel her first, then you can have a go, yeah?” Minho says.

Jisung looks to his friend, nodding eagerly in agreement.

“Come see her pretty little cunt first,” Minho says, slipping the panties to the side fully and shuffling aside so his friend can take his place between your legs. “Touch her,” he encourages.

Your breathing is uneven now, squirming halted by your boyfriend's hands as Jisung inspects you. He’s quiet as he hesitantly lifts his finger to your folds then very gently brushes over you. Minho’s hand pushes you down a little harder when you attempt to roll into him, seeking friction. “Pretty, isn’t she?” he asks, keeping his eyes between your legs. “Look at her puffy little lips. Pretty hole fluttering for cock.”

“So pretty,” Jisung breathes as the tip of his finger prods gently against your entrance. He toys with you for a bit before you reach down and grab his wrist, holding him against you.

“You like Sungie touching you, baby?” Minho asks sweetly. You nod, grinding against the hand you hold to your cunt. “You want him to suck your pretty tits?” You nod again, a small whine slipping from your lips. “Then you have to let him go, hm?”

You drop Jisung’s wrist reluctantly, gripping the sheets beside you instead.

“My good girl,” he says, resuming his place between your legs.

Jisung shuffles up beside you. When he hesitantly reaches towards you, you guide him to your breast—waiting until he takes a firm grasp before letting go. “S’okay,” you encourage, eyes squeezing shut as the tip of your boyfriend's cock kisses your entrance.

“You heard her,” Minho says to his friend, pushing his tip just past your entrance and retreating again. “Take it out,” he instructs.

Jisung pulls the fabric down, letting one of your breasts free from the lace. He doesn’t hesitate this time, leaning down and wrapping his plush lips around your nipple. Minho pushes inside you as your back arches off the bed, hands grasping your waist to hold you against him. His thick cock pushes through your walls as Jisung’s wet tongue laps at your breast. You want to suck your boyfriend dry for suggesting this to you all those weeks ago. He pauses when he bottoms out, eyes fixed on where his friend moans around your nipple. You lift your hand to tangle in his soft hair, holding him to your chest. His other hand moves to your stomach, smoothing up your skin to blindly pull the lace from your other breast so he can cover it with his palm. He groans a little when you tug his hair lightly.

Minho begins rolling his hips after a moment. “Feel nice?” he asks, brows furrowed. You recognise this look. He was holding back. He wanted to fuck you hard and fast until he filled you, but he was resisting.

“Mm. Thank you, baby,” you manage to get out, reaching down to cover his hand where he holds your hip and squeezing him gently. He closes his eyes, a low groan slipping from his throat as he drops his head back. You want to sit up and latch onto his neck, bared prettily for you. You tug Jisung's hair a little harder until he releases you. His lips are wet, eyes glassy as he looks to you for instruction.

“Sit behind me?”

He’s quick to obey, lifting you gently and settling you back against his chest. Minho falls over you, sandwiching you between both their bodies as he begins moving. You can kiss his neck like this, the taste of him on your lips as Jisung plays with your hair. “She feels so fucking good,” he mutters, clearly speaking to his friend. “Did you imagine her? How tight she is?”

“Yeah,” Jisung breathes behind you. “She’s…she’s tight?”

“Fucking gripping me…sucking me back in every time I try and pull out.”

“Fuck,” Jisung groans, his hard cock pressed against you. You imagine him leaking with precum, his hips rolling a little as he attempts to get a little friction. You feel bad for him suddenly.

“You gonna… let him…let him fuck me?” you mutter into your boyfriend’s neck.

“Mm, baby. He can fuck my cum into you, yeah?” Jisung makes a choked noise behind you. “Gonna fill you up first,” your boyfriend finishes. You whine, nodding as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sound good?” he asks his friend, lifting his head to look at the man pressed to your back.

You don’t hear any response but when your boyfriend drops his face into your neck, laughing softly—you imagine he must have made a non-verbal agreement. That was another thing your boyfriend liked: cum. The first time he’d taken you raw you’d seen a whole new side of him, practically feral as he’d rutted into you and then sat back to watch his cum leak from your swollen cunt. It doesn’t surprise you at all that the idea of watching someone else fuck it back into you excited him.

He pushes you into his friend harder as his pace increases, grunting into your neck with each thrust. You’re completely surrounded by warmth, above, behind and inside. It only adds to it when Minho releases, warm cum flooding you as he whines into your neck. You clench around him, helping him draw out his high as he opens his mouth and bites gently into your shoulder.

Jisung plays with your hair clumsily as your boyfriend catches his breath, cock twitching against you. “Did he fill you?” he whispers, as if speaking any louder will disturb your fucked out boyfriend.

“Mm,” you hum, “So well. Got me all sloppy for you,” you breathe.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he says, voice a little louder now. “So hot…you make me so hard.”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes I—” he cuts himself off, somehow still shy after your boyfriend fucked you against his chest.

“Tell me,” you breathe.

“I listen to you. I listen to him fuck you and imagine it’s me.”

“Then you act all sweet to my face?” you huff out a tired laugh.

“Sweet?” he questions.

You hum. “You’re always so sweet to me, Sungie.” His fingers brush over your scalp, pulling a soft moan from your throat. “So sweet.”

Your boyfriend lifts his head from your neck, clearly recovered enough to rejoin the conversation. “You want him to fuck you sweetly?” he asks, one corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smirk.

“He can fuck me however he wants.”

“Hear that?” he says, lifting off you and then pulling you off his friend’s chest. He switches positions with him, settling himself back against the pillows and pulling you against him before spreading your legs for his friend. His finger traces through your folds as Jisung watches, prodding his cum back into you. “Fuck it back into her,” he mutters. “Tear the lace off her first.”

“Like… break it? Tear it?”

“Mm, I bought it, don't worry.”

Jisung looks at you for a moment, clearly remembering when you’d told him the green lingerie was your purchase. You have a feeling he’s going to make you pay for that as he reaches between your legs and tears the fabric apart with both hands. His biceps flex with the movement and you drop your head back into your boyfriend, closing your eyes.

Minho presses small kisses to your neck as his friend pushes into you. “Talk to me,” he says, lips fixed to your skin. “Tell me how she feels.”

“P-Perfect.”

“Mm, perfect little pussy,” he mumbles into your neck.

You’re struggling to keep a grip on everything happening around you, officially overwhelmed. Then, Jisung starts moving. He doesn’t hold back like your boyfriend had at first and the while Minho continues muttering into your neck, all you can hear is the sound of his best friend fucking a load of Minho’s cum into you. It’s wet and messy and it pushes you over the edge, squeezing Jisung’s cock as your walls contract around him.

You’re vaguely aware of your boyfriend speaking. To his friend, you assume. Then Minho’s hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head so he can kiss you. You’re too fucked out to help him, letting him move his plush lips over yours as his friend fucks into you. “Min,” you whisper eventually.

“Mm, my love?”

“You’re so smart.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead then lowering your head to his chest—letting you go completely limp against him. “You gonna fill her up?” he says, hands stroking up and down your arms slowly. “I know that’s what you want most. I’ve heard you. “Always her name when you come all over yourself…right?”

Jisung says nothing, eyes fluttering closed as his grip tightens on your hips. He pulls you down a little with the intensity of his movements, a physical reaction to Minho’s words. “Maybe I’ll let you have her again,” he continues. “Let you milk your cock with her instead of just jerking off to the thought of it.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you think he’s relenting—giving his friend a chance to catch his breath. Then he goes for the kill. “We’ve been talking about going off birth control…getting pregnant.”

Jisung snaps his eyes to Minho, then to you—his hips stuttering into you. “Would you like to suck on her again? Once I’ve bred her.” That’s the end, one last pump deep inside and then he’s groaning. His cum joins your boyfriend’s, spilling out around his cock. You don’t have to see your boyfriend’s face to know how he looks, fucked out and cocky. He’ll take this as a win, wave it around in both of your faces for the foreseeable future. You couldn’t care less.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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neoarchipelago · 4 months

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So I got to reading some facts about red pandas cuz y'all got me back on the redpanda!reader AU!

They sleep like 2/3 of the day and they sleep with their tails snuggled around their bodies like a blanket.

So like. Hybrid reader gets a lot sleepy during the day. Don't get me wrong, she's extremely efficient when she's awake but she'll often nap, anytime anywhere. On the plane back on the evac. While finishing a report, on the couch after a training and sometimes in the gym behind some training mats.

Random places anytime. When the boys don't know where you are they know you're probably sleeping. But the awful stress they got the first few times as they didn't know where you had decided to fall asleep this time was too much to bear.

"what's this..?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"it's a chipped tag." Price said. The man standing around, arms crossed.

"what?" You frowned.

"it'll track you at all times. In case we need to find you." Ghost said.

"you're gps tracking me??" You let out, now feeling slightly annoyed.

"don't get on the table... Calm down" Gaz reassured.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"listen bonnie. We spent 2 hours looking for you last time. You fell asleep in a tank!" Soap argued.

You opened your mouth but Price was faster.

"no. No discussion. Either that or your start sleeping in the dorms. Everytime."

"but... I don't control it... I get sleepy... And then I just nap."

"then I don't want to hear it."

Now you just keep it on you all the time. If it isn't a member of the base notifying Price of your new sleeping spot, they knew where you were.

Now the thing about all these little sleeping episodes. Is that what they started to understand. You needed those power naps. Being in the military didn't let you sleep as much as your hybrid body wanted to. So they often indulge you. You get cranky but mostly overworked. Tiredness eating at you if you go a full day without at least two power naps.

Compared to your kind, it's almost as if you didn't sleep at all!

Now they let you sleep in their arms, against their shoulders. You had been incredibly touched one day, as you were trying to focus through the blurriness of your tired eyes on an incident report, seeing the boys walk in with a blanket.

"You took a nap this afternoon?" Gaz questioned.

"on the couch lass! Nap nap!" Soap chimed.

Another thing is the way you sleep. You had first hid yourself away when you met the boys. Sleeping spots into dark corners or only your dorm. But the first time Gaz found you sleeping on an old office couch, he couldn't stop smiling. How you found this abandoned office was a mystery. But the way you were curled on the cushion, tail in between your legs as you held it like a pillow against you, face on the tip.

He bit his tongue, trying not to let a sound out at how cute he found you. He had left, only texting the team to let them know where you were.

Then it was on a particularly hard mission. The first time you had actually slept near the boys, nothing separating you. The small one room safehouse not giving anyone any privacy.

The boys had noticed your sleepy eyes closing themselves as they tried to chat about what they'd do once they'd be home, evac fishing them up the next morning.

You were eventually lulled to sleep by their deep voice, talking in a low tone. Wrapping yourself up again, tail around your curled body, ear twitching at the lack of their voices as they noticed it. The boys were in awe. Gaz admitted he had already witnessed it before. Soap immediately took a picture, Ghost smacking the back of his head before grunting.

"Send it to me..."

You were standing on a humvee three days later, having found out their phone wallpapers was a picture of you sleeping. Your red face as you scolded them from your high ground, the four men standing arms crossed looking up at you, too amused for your own taste.

#fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #cod mw2 #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #redpanda!readercodau #hybrid!reader #hybrid

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reasonsforhope · 4 months

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[Warning: Graphic (some very graphic) shark-fishing pictures at the link.]

"Suhardi isn’t your average snorkeling guide. Born on the Indonesian island of Lombok, he’s spent his life on water. While he now seeks out sharks for the enjoyment of tourists, he once hunted sharks to help earn money to feed his family and educate his two children.

Suhardi was a fisherman for more than 20 years. He first started fishing working on his parents’ boat, but was then asked to join the crew of a shark boat where he was told he could earn a lot of money. Back on deck, he looks embarrassed to divulge what a meager wage it was, but finally confesses he earned around $50 for up to a month at sea.

Now he and 12 other former shark fishermen are part of The Dorsal Effect, an ecotourism company that helps ex-shark hunters find a new vocation. Each week, the team takes groups of tourists, schoolchildren and university students to off-the-grid locations and guides them around pristine reefs. Each trip is designed to take guests on an exploratory journey of both the shark trade and marine conservation through the eyes of the Sasak people of Lombok.

Lombok is a hotspot for marine diversity, sitting just east of the Wallace Line, a biogeographical boundary separating Asia and Australia and their respective fauna. Pristine coral gardens and around 80 species of sharks can be found in its waters. The island is also part of the world’s largest shark-fishing nation. Only the whale shark (Rhincondon typus) is protected in Indonesia; all other sharks can be legally caught.

The Dorsal Effect first launched in 2013, a year after Suhardi met Singaporean ecologist Kathy Xu, who had traveled to Lombok to find out more about the shark trade. The diminutive but quietly determined Xu wanted to protect sharks, but because she knew shark fishing was poorly paid and dangerous, she wanted to hear the fishermen’s stories too. They told her how once they could fish for sharks close to shore, but now with the shark population dropping, the fishermen said they needed to travel farther out to sea, only to come home with a relatively poor catch. The reduced catch also meant reduced pay, so they often couldn’t cover their costs...

Yet, when Xu asked why fishers didn’t seek out another trade, she learned they didn’t want to be separated from the sea. They saw it as part of their heritage.

But as they spoke longer, the shark fishermen talked about the coral gardens that could be found under the waves, ones that only they knew about. Inspired by a whale shark diving trip she’d taken with scientists on the Great Barrier Reef, Xu had an idea. “If such spots exist,” she recalls telling the fishers, “I could take tourists out with you and pay you more than you earned shark fishing”.

At first, Xu guided the former shark fishermen on how to become eco-friendly tour operators. They dropped anchor away from the reef, served guests plant-based dishes, and made sure all trash was taken back to shore. But then Xu saw that something special was happening: The former fishermen had started to take the guest experience into their own hands, making sure tourists felt at home. Suhardi painted “Welcome” in large letters over the front of his boat, fitted green baize to the top deck for outdoor seating, and hung curtains in the cabin so his guests could enjoy some shade.

Suhardi has already bought a new boat with his earnings from snorkeling trips. “Every day is my best day,” laughs Suhardi, whose smile always travels from his mouth to his eyes.

While they were receiving tourists from across the globe, there was another group that Xu wanted to reach out to. “I think it was the teacher in me who felt impassioned about influencing the young,” she says. She reached out to schools and created a five-day program that would help students understand the shark trade and local conservation efforts. During the program, paid for by the school and students, participants would not only meet the ex-shark fishermen so they could ask them about their lives, but also hear from NGOs such as the Wildlife Conservation Society about their efforts to slow the trade. The Dorsal Effect also hired marine biologists to host nightly lectures and help the students with their field surveys...

The students were faced with the realities of the fishing trade, but they were also encouraged to take a balanced view by The Dorsal Effect team. The villagers weren’t just taking the fins, and throwing away the rest of the shark; they processed every piece of the animal. While they did sell the meat and fins to buyers at the market, they also sold the teeth to jewelers, and the remains for pet food.

The Dorsal Effect also takes students on an excursion to the fishermen’s village, a small island that lies off the coast of Lombok. Marine biologist Bryan Ng Sai Lin, who was hired by The Dorsal Effect team, says that on one trip with students he was surprised by how quickly the young people understood the situation. “One of them said it’s good to think about conservation, but at the same time these people don’t really have any other choice,” Lin says....

Conservation scientist Hollie Booth of Save Our Seas, which does not work directly with The Dorsal Effect, says the need to provide legal profitable alternatives to shark fishing is critical: “We are never going to solve biodiversity and environment issues unless we think about incentives and take local people’s needs into account. These kinds of programs are really important.”"

-via Mongabay, December 15, 2023

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basementloser · 4 days

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I would've loved an episode in which Danny and Dash switch bodies.

I imagine it happens because Dash is talking to Kwan about how cool Phantom is or something, and at some point he says "Man, I wish I was Danny Phantom!"

Of course Desiree hears this, she appears before him ("So you have wished it, so shall it be!"), and the next day Dash wakes up in Danny's body. Danny Fenton's body. In Danny's room.

At this point he's pretty familiar with Desiree, and he assumes she just heard him wrong, befause Fenton and Phantom do sound alike. ("Huh, how weird! How has no one noticed this before?" We hear Wes screaming in the distance as Dash makes this observation.)

But there is no way in hell that a puny little nerd like Fenton could be Dash's hero, so something must've gone wrong. He decides to find Desiree and correct his wish.

Meanwhile, Danny (to his horror) wakes up in Dash's body.

He assumes he overshadowed him for some reason, but when he tries to leave, he finds out he doesn't have his powers. He also doesn't feel Dash's presence in the body.

"I know i asked for a growth spurt, but not like this!"

This isn't good.

Dash makes his way downstairs, and is immediately greeted by Jack Fenton, who has a million chores for him.

"Come on, Danno! Those ghosts I fished out of the ghost zone with the Fenton Ghost Fisher™️ aren't gonna put themselves back!"

Before he can object he is pushed into the lab and has to fight a couple of ectopusses. This goes very badly at first, until Dash remembers the bit of ghost hunting training Danny gave him and his classmates, when they had to rescue their parents from that big pirate ship.

As soon as he's done, exhausted on the floor (Damn, Fenton really needs to work out more!), he hears Jack yelling down the stairs.

"Son, don't forget to change the ecto filtrator! You don't want Amity Park to blow up, do ya?"

More dangerous chores keep getting added for longer than Dash thought was humanly possible.

(At some point Jack gave him some fudge, which helped.)

How does Fenton live like this???

We switch back over to Danny, who is now looking around Dash's room. He already knew about the cute pink teddy bear collection, but he didn't expect to find what can only be described as a fan shrine to Phantom.

There are newspaper articles, pictures, merch ("Wait I have merch? How come i didn't know that? Who is selling Phantom merch?" it's Tucker), and a poster.

(the b-story of this episode is Sam & Tucker running a Phantom merch line, and trying to stop the Box Ghost from stealing all the boxes of merch.)

Danny keeps looking around Dash's room, and finding out more about him through his stuff.

At some point he finds Dash's diary. He contemplates if he should read it or not, but in the end he decides that since Dash is always such a jerk to him, he doesn't care about morals and reads it.

Reading the diary, Danny starts to feel kinda bad, because in the entries Dash actually seems human. He's insecure, and he actually struggles with a lot. He's afraid to talk about what he's going through.

His parents are very absent, and the A-listers kicked Valerie out when her life wasn't perfect anymore. He doesn't want that to happen to him.

(I personally headcanon Dash as an extremely closeted gay guy with a lot of internalised homophobia, who hasn't stopped trying to convince himself that he's straight, but his struggles could be about anything.)

After reading all that, Danny starts to feel kinda bad for him.

Over the course of the day ghosts keep showing up to fight or talk to Fenton, and Dash is incredibly confused by this. Also Danny must have a weird cold or something, because he's been exhaling cold air at random all day.

"I AM THE BOX GHO- Hey! Wait! Why are you running away? You never run away. You always trap me in your cylindrical contraption of doOoOoOm!" (The Box Ghost is wearing a Phantom t-shirt, and is holding a box full of other Phantom merch. After Dash runs away, Sam and Tucker appear, chasing the Box Ghost through the street, trying to get the merch back.)

Later Johnny 13 shows up to fight, because he and Kitty broke up for the 4th time this week, and he wants to let out some steam. "Shouldn't you change for our fight, kid?" Change into what? Wait he wanted to fight, right? Dash puts on his gym uniform, and boxing gloves. Johnny looks at him weird, but doesn't question it. They have a little boxing match in the backyard.

Youngblood came by to play astronauts with him, and was very disappointed that Danny didn't fly up to space with him. (Wait didn't that dead kid kidnap Dash's parents??! Also why in the hell does he think Fenton has the ability to fly?????!! And breathe(!) in space?!!!)

After finishing what seems like a billion ghost related chores (and dealing with way too many ghosts), Dash finally manages to get out of the Fenton house, and starts to look for Desiree.

Danny walks out of Dash's room, and runs into Dash's dad. He opens his mouth, but he doesn't seem to care about what he's going to say. "Son I am so incredibly disappointed in you." the dad starts, then continues to list all the reasons he is a huge disappointment who should try harder. "Those weird little bears in your closet!" and "Why don't you have a girlfriend yet?"

The whole interaction is horrible, and makes Danny appreciate his own parents (weird as they may be) so much.

Dash's mom also berates him about being a disappointment, because they found his Phantom collection ("He is a GHOST, Dash! He's dangerous!"), and because his grades are so low. ("What do you mean tutor? Just study harder!")

They threaten to take Pookie away if he doesn't get his shit together.

At some point Danny has deduced that this body situation must be some ghost bullshit, and he decides to go to Fentonworks.

Then he runs into Dash in his body, and they have a little spiderman moment

After the internal shock and "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY BODY GET OUT!"s have gone around, Dash tells Danny what happened.

Danny informs Dash that most of Desiree's wishes become permanent after 24 hours. They decide to team up to get Desiree to undo this wish before that happens.

It's noted that Dash didn't say the word "puny" or any other insult, when he says "I really don't wanna stay in your body.".

We see a compilation of Danny and Dash searching Amity Park for Desiree, and other wishes she has granted. They fight off a couple of small ghost things together.

(during this compilation we see Sam and Tucker chasing the Box Ghost around. "How is he this hard to catch?? We've done this millions of times already!!!" -"Well maybe if you didn't drop the fucking thermos!")

After the fight, Dash sighs and says "Man, I had no idea how difficult your life is, Fenton. I've only been living it a day and it sucks."

they have a little heart to heart, and Dash sincerely apologises for bullying Danny so much.

"why did you want to be Phantom anyway? I assume his life isn't that easy either." Danny says.

"I dunno, man. I just thought it would be cool to be, y'know, going ghost."

White rings appear around Dash. He turns into Phantom.

they have another moment like this:

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

"I"M- I- YOU- YOU'RE PHANTOM??!!!"

"NO! YES! NO TIME! FIGHT HER!!!"

Because of course, this is the moment that Desiree appears, and starts fighting them.

"I dont know how!!!"

The beginning of the fight is very awkward, with Dash not knowing how Danny's powers work, and Danny not being used to fighting Desiree without his powers.

Eventually they get the hang of it, with Danny telling Dash how to activate and use certain powers in the moment, and they defeat Desiree.

All the wishes get undone, and they suck her up into a thermos.

After that, they talk about Danny being Phantom. Danny tells Dash the story of how he died got his powers, and Dash shares some of his secrets with Danny so they're "even". (it's some stuff that wasn't in Dash's diary. Danny doesn't mention that he read that, but that can be conflict in a later episode)

They aren't friends yet, but it's a start. Now that he walked a mile in Danny's shoes, Dash feels so bad about bullying him all those years, and he starts to question his life choices. (start of a Dash redemption arc i guess). He promises to stop bullying in general, and help out Danny however he can. (He also promises to not tell anyone about Danny's secret identity.)

(The episode ends with Sam and Tucker, having finally caught the Box Ghost, only to realise that in the chase/fight all the merch got way too messed up to sell, so it was all for nothing. Tucker throws the thermos down in frustration, the Box Ghost gets free, grabs the Phantom shirt he wore earlier, yells "BEWARE!" and flies off. Sam sighs and gets ready to start chasing him again, but Tucker stops her. "I give up. Let him have the fucking shirt.")

#the next episode we see dash in the background trying to apologise to all the nerd he stuffed in lockers #running after mikey like “please forgive me!!” and mikey is like “AAAA WHY R U CHASING ME!!!”#danny phantom #dash baxter #danny fenton #desiree #danny phantom prompt #this got a lot longer than i expected #feel free to add

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byunpum · 11 months

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Hi! Can you write a one shot between AonungxHuman!Reader ? I’m literally Inlove with your work like

it’s literally all a masterpiece like literally Absolute Perfection. Every time you post I look forward to reading your Writing.

Pair: Ao'nung x Human reader (kiri twin)

Warning: sexual harassment, cute moments.

Note: I got a little excited about this oneshot ehehehe. I hope you like it. By the way, I have received all the requests, they are quite a lot. So I'm answering them little by little. I like to take my time so that the stories are original. So please be patient with me, and thanks a lot for the support.

Avatar Masterlist

Being kiri's twin sister was never easy for you. Especially being human. Grace's avatar had given birth to two completely different babies. One completely na'vi and the other completely human. The babies had peculiar things, like kiri had more human features, her hands and etc. And that you could breathe the air of pandora without problems and yellow eyes. Jake and neytiri couldn't adopt a girl and leave the other girl abandoned, so they adopted both of them and raised them as their own daughters. Being different in the omaticaya clan was never a problem, your father was the clan leader, no one dared to say anything about you. But leaving the clan, leaving everything behind. You arrived in a totally new clan, where the presence of your family was strange. You were an alien, harmful and dangerous.

It was difficult for Jake to convince the metkayina clan leaders. Ronal and Tonowari had never seen humans so close. Jake explained everything to them, while neytiri held your hand. After a few long minutes, Ronal and Tonowari accepted your presence. Neytiri had to stand up to the comments that Ronal was saying about you. Thanks to eywa, you quickly fit in with the clan. The ones who didn't fit in with you were a group of metkayina boys who kept annoying you on a daily basis. At first you thought it was normal, your presence was strange to them. But as the years went by, everything became more complicated. It had been two years since you lived in the Metkayina clan, and you were still being harassed by these men. But they were no longer children, but grown men who liked to bother you.

It was midday, and you had gone for a walk with neteyam. It was one of those quiet days where you spent time with your older brother. You were both exploring an island, it was small and had a beautiful creek. Full of precious stones. They were so pretty, perfect for your collection. "Nete…look!!!" you speak, running to sit on the edge of the creek. You pull out a notebook that belonged to your mother, looking through the pages trying to find a picture of some stone that was found on the creek. Neteyam found this adorable, but boring. He knelt down a bit next to you. "Y/n…I'm going for a swim with my ilu, stay here. Yes?" says neteyam, placing his hand on your head. You look up, giving him a smile. "Yes…don't worry" you speak, turning your full attention back to your notebook. You can feel yourself getting lonely, because the silence that had fallen was so soothing.

You settle back in your seat, and begin to look at the rocks in the water. Analyzing them, and making mental notes. You regret not having brought your pencil (which was made of wood and charcoal). You can hear several Na'vi approaching. Most of them were women with their children, sitting on the edge to clean some fruits with the fresh water and some fish. You liked being in this place, you liked the sea and everything to do with it. You see a few women greet you, and you return the gesture. The clan was kind to you, after meeting you they became more open to you. You were grateful that they were so friendly with your presence. Enjoying the scenery, you can see that the creek is spreading out beyond the wooded area. You knew you should not leave this place, neteyam would be coming for you soon. And you knew your father didn't like you wandering around unsupervised. According to Jake, the Pandora Seas were too dangerous for you. But you weren't going to go far…just a little.

You get up from the ground, and follow the water current. Entering the wet jungle, while walking and jumping on the rocks. You stay like this for at least 10 minutes, glancing back. You see that you have wandered too far. So you decide to stop walking, sitting on the side of the creek, to take a look at the new rocks that now reflected from the depth. They were so beautiful, with different colors and shapes. You had to have several for your collection and others to make new pieces of clothing with kiri and tuk. You hear how several branches move, and you become alert. Watching as out of the bushes come the group of metkayina men who were always having some trouble with you. "Look what we have here" says one of them. Approaching, while the others followed him. "Hello" you speak up, you were never a spoiled girl. So you wave at him, and decide to keep looking and picking up your rocks. "Hey…what are you doing here all alone?" the man kneels down, to be closer to you. "I'm not alone, I'm with my brother" you speak up, sitting up straighter to confront them.

"Really? I don't see anyone here" the man signals with his hands. Looking at his friends, as they laughed evilly. You felt nervous, you were so scared. "I should get back…goodbye" you start to get up from the ground, but you feel one of them grab your arm. Causing you to sit up suddenly, you groan in pain. "Tell me…what do you have here?" one of the men, takes the notebook you were holding in your hands. "Give me that…that's important to me" you shout, getting up from the ground, trying to take the object from his hands. But this was useless, you were too small compared to them. "Do you want it back?" speaks the na'vi who was the leader of the group. "Yes, please" you speak, lowering your hands to now place them on your chest. "If you want it back, you have to bend down on the ground…just for curiosity" says the man. Your eyes widen. "For what?" you speak, but you see how they all laugh. And he pulls you close. "We're curious about you…mmm why don't you do us that favor and let us see what your cute little cunt looks like" the man speaks cheekily.

You can feel your heartbeat quicken, you could feel your stomach churning. You were aware that your body was curious to the na'vi. But this was something that was not right, you knew. All the alarms in your body were on fire, as you wished neteyam was here. Your eyes began to fill with tears, as you watched those na'vi boys waiting for your answer with a smile on their face. "N…no, please give me back my notebook…I won't do anything" you scream a little, but it sounds more like a cry of desperation. "Well…if you don't" says the boy holding the notebook in his hand, holding it close to the water. Making the gesture as if he's going to drop it. You reach over, hopping a little to grab it. "Ah, ah, ah, ah on the ground…and then the notebook" the man speaks, you move a little away.

The noises of the argument had caught the attention of ao'nung, who had gone for a ride with his ilu, in an attempt to distract himself from his labors. He had left his ilu at the other end of the island, while he walked and explored the small island. Not 10 minutes had passed, when he heard your voice. He knew her very well… he spent a lot of time with the Sully family. And as strange as it sounds… he had memorized all the tones of voice that came out of your mouth. He becomes alert, when he can sense a hint of desperation in your tone, so he decides to look for where it's coming from. Walking slowly, he arrives at your location. He slowly approaches and realizes that you are not alone. He makes a face of annoyance, when he hears the voice of the group of men. "They have nothing better to do," thinks ao'nung to himself, as he glances through some bushes.

He is very surprised, with the scene that his eyes had found. You were on the ground, on all fours. With your head pressed tightly to the ground. While one of the men held you in place, with one foot on your back. "Ok… why don't you help us and move the cloth to see you completely" says the man. This makes ao'nung furious, who without thinking comes out of his hiding place. All of them, noticing the presence of the future clan leader, move away from you. You collapse on the ground, feeling pain in your back and face. "What the hell is going on here!!!" shouts ao'nung, pushing one of the men. With such force that he was left sitting on the ground, hitting his head on a tree trunk. "I'm sorry…it's " tries to apologize to one of the group men.

"I want you to get the hell out of here!!!! Because if I don't I swear" before ao'nung could finish, the group of men had run out of the place. One of them threw the notebook in your direction, running away in fear. After standing still in place, furious. Ao'nung turns in your direction. He sees that you were sitting, seeing if you had any wounds on your knees. "Y/N…are you okay?" says ao'nung approaching you. You look up, revealing a tear-stained face. The boy brings his hand up to your face, to wipe it a little. "I'm sorry…I promise you that as soon as I get to the village I will take care of them. This will not stay like this" says ao'nung trying to comfort you. But he sees that this does not cheer you up. He knows how sad you must feel. You were the butt of these idiots' jokes, and they are already going too far with you. "Are you feeling okay?" ao'nung now sits down next to you. He sees how in your hands you hold some sort of notebook. He recognized it right away…it's that thing you always carry with you.

"It's been damaged…it's almost destroyed" you speak, moving some pages of your notebook. Which was wet. When they threw it on the ground, it had fallen near the water. You tried to pick it up, but it was too late. "But…Y/N. You were willing to let them hurt you for this thing" says ao'nung, touching the cover of the notebook with his finger. You look up somewhat annoyed. "This isn't just a thing…this belonged to my mom. She had her whole life here…what she had done and discovered in Pandora. This is important to me…this brings me closer to her." You cry, as you hug the notebook to your chest. Ao'nung decides to say nothing, and respects your space. Letting you cry and vent for a while. After a while…he comes closer to you. Stroking your hair, he wraps his hand around your shoulder so that you lie on his chest. He can notice, how your crying gets louder. And decides to hug you.

" Calm down" he says with a gentle tone. He feels you pull away a little, "Thank you for helping me…I was so scared" ao'nung can see your puffy eyes, and your pink cheeks. "You're welcome…and I'm sorry you had to go through that…but you shouldn't risk yourself like that. It's dangerous," says ao'nung, stroking your arm with his hand. Holding you in place, on your chest. "I know…but look" you move away a little, but not so much as to break the physical contact you had now. He can watch as you search through the pages. "See this?" you hold up the notebook so he can get a better look. It was a drawing of an aquatic flower, it was red with blue. He couldn't see it in detail, because the paint had begun to fade. "Mom wrote here that it is a flower that only grows in the deep sea" he sees as you drop your head on his chest. You sigh, as you wipe away a few tears. "How I wish I could see one… in this notebook is everything I want to be someday" you speak. Ao'nung enjoyed the moment, he liked listening to you talk about your dreams. "They are syulangs, they grow the depths and then they can live anywhere. They generate a kind of oil, it is good for the skin and has a very good smell" says Ao'nung, lowering his gaze. Noticing how your eyes widen. "Have you seen them?" you ask, at this point you had turned away from him. Taking his face in your hands, bringing your face closer to his. You were now inches apart, and ao'nung was getting nervous. You had never been so close to him.

He had never analyzed your beautiful features. You were strange…but beautiful at the same time. His tail began to wag back and forth. He didn't know what you were talking about, you kept on talking while he was unmoved watching, how you talked, moved your hands. Even how your nose wrinkled, every time you raised your arms. "Ao'nung…can you take me to see them?" you ask, now you had caught his full attention. "Ahhh yes…sure" the boy says. Feeling you hug him by the neck. "Ahhh thank you" you speak, now sounding calmer. He hugs you back, closing his eyes. They stay like that for a while, until you hear your brother's voice. "Y/N!!!" neteyam shouts.

"I'm here!!!" you shout back, watching as your brother emerges from the bushes. You pick yourself up off the ground, moving away from ao'nung. The boy stands with empty arms, watching as you run to your brother hugging him. "Where were you? Are you okay?" asks neteyam, making you turn around, checking for injuries. He can tell, your knees are a little scraped. "And this?" says neteyam, taking your leg in the air to get a better look. "Nete be careful !!!!" you shout, sometimes your brother could forget that you were very small compared to him. "I'm fine… don't worry" you speak. But you see how ao'nung approaches you. "That group of men were bothering her…but I was able to get there in time" says ao'nung. Neteyam thanks him, he had a long time defending his sister from those idiots. It was not an easy task. "Well…I think we'd better go home" says neteyam, taking your hand. He had noticed the looks ao'nung was giving you. "Yes please..I want to rest" you speak, moving closer to give ao'nung one last hug. hugging his hand tightly. "Again…thank you. See you later "you speak, pulling away from the boy.

A few minutes after you had left, au'nung decided to return to his ilu. But just as he took the first step, he noticed that you had left your notebook on the floor. He picked it up, and noticed that it was open at the page where the flower was drawn. He chuckled a little to himself, remembering with excitement that you told him everything. This little object was so important to you, you could give your life for it. It seemed silly to him, so he looked through the pages more. And he found a picture, in it appeared a woman with red hair, two men and other women. It had some words written in Na'vi, which said 'family' or 'my family'. Right next to that picture, there was another one…where you could see all the members of the family. But they were all small. Ao'nung looked at it with curiosity. So this was what you protected so much…you were adorable.

The night came, and as it was obvious. Neteyam had to tell her father what had happened. He couldn't help it, as soon as you entered the marui. Your mother saw that your knees were bleeding. So while you sat there watching your mother heal your wounds, you listened as your father scolded Neteyam. "I told you not to go away from her…if you go to the water. Your sister goes with you, otherwise you stay by her side" jake is a little upset. "Something serious could have happened" jake yells. "But it didn't happen…dad calm down" you speak from the other side of marui. You hadn't told anyone about what really happened to you and the disgusting comments those men said. You knew your father would do something crazy, and you didn't want to cause trouble. After a while, everyone is quiet going about their own business. You were playing with tuk, when you hear a tapping at the entrance of the marui.

Ao'nung was there, holding a basket full of flowers syulangs. The boy peeked his head to the side, meeting your eyes. He could see, how your eyes lit up. "Ahhh…mmm I brought something for Y/N" says ao'nung, you could feel the nervousness in his voice. You get up from the ground, and walk quickly to him. Everyone in the family looked at each other they were a little confused, but lo'ak's giggles could be heard. "Shhh shut up" you gesture to your brother to shut up. Moving closer to ao'nung, you both step further out of the marui, for some privacy. "Where? You brought them for…" you were interrupted when ao'nung put the basket down. "For you…I got them for you," says the boy. You put a hand to your mouth, you are surprised and grateful. No one has ever made this gesture to you…no one. "I'm sorry about what happened this afternoon… I'm sorry you didn't feel comfortable, I know it's hard to be you in this clan, but I want you to know" says ao'nung, taking your hands, to give them a little squeeze. "That I see you," says ao'nung. He could see how flushed you were getting. "Are you okay?" asks the boy, watching as you bend over and take the basket in your hands. And you run off to your marui. "Y/N wait!!! Your notebook!!!" yells ao'nung.

Watching as you run back, quickly taking the notebook from his hand. Not if before, taking his hand and dragging it down. Now he was at your level, and feels you reach over and give him a kiss on the cheek. "I see you too ao'nung" you speak, laughing a little, to quickly enter your marui. Leaving him alone there, flushed and surprised. His heart was pounding, he had to control himself. He didn't know how he had created these feelings for you, but he loved feeling them so much.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 7 months

Text

Kinktober day 3 | Ethan Landry x camgirl!Reader

Kinktober day 3: sextape (?)

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, fingering (f receiving), cum tasting,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I’m not shy…okay maybe I am a little, but I just really don’t want anyone to recognize me. What if one of my professors sees me? That would be mortifying. I would have to change college and—’’

‘’Why would any of your professors watch my live?’’ you interrupted with disgust.

There was a high chance that people you’ve crossed in the subway — or even at school — had seen your ass online, but you didn’t like to think about that.

Ethan shrugged. ‘’A lot of people watch your live. You never know.’’ His eyes widened, another realization hitting him. ‘’Oh god, what if my dad watches? I’m gonna throw up.’’

‘’Make it two.’’

The thought of your boyfriend’s dad sitting behind his computer and jerking off to one of your lives was making you sick to your stomach. A few months ago, Ethan’s brother subscribed to your Only Fans and you had been so quick to block him.

‘’Maybe we can figure out a way to hide your face? I could’ve blurred it if it had been a video, but you can’t do that on live…’’

Although you really wanted him to get on the live with you, you respected Ethan’s decision to not show his face on camera. Not everyone was comfortable to be seen that way online, and it was okay.

‘’I have an idea!’’

You fished around your closet to find the Halloween mask you were looking for. You had used it last Halloween for some pictures and never wore it again. It should be somewhere with the bunny ears and matching tail.

‘’How do I look?’’ Ethan asked, his face covered by a Stab mask.

You wouldn’t say psychopaths and killers were a turn on. You wouldn’t want Michael Myers to stick it in you, but you wouldn’t mind Billy Loomis or J.D. from Heathers railing you with their hand around your neck.

‘’Fucking hot,’’ you replied bluntly, feeling an ache between your legs.

Once your set up was angled to see a wider angle, you changed into a cute lingerie set and sat in front of the webcam, ready to start your live. There were already people in the chat waiting for you to log in, impatient to see the ‘surprise’ you told them about. They probably think it’s a new toy or that you’re gonna open up one-on-one videos again.

The chat greeted you excitedly the moment you appeared on the screen, complimenting you on the baby blue bra and panty. It was Ethan’s favorite, so you wore it to get him more comfortable on camera. There were little frills on the shoulders of the bra and the sides of the panties, giving it a more juvenile and girly look.

You were sitting cross legged on your bed while Ethan stood in the corner of your room, offscreen. ‘’Hi, everyone.’’ You smiled, waving at the camera. ‘’There’s so many of you today,’’ you said with amazement, seeing the viewers count go up every two seconds. ‘’Which is a good thing because I have a surprise for you.’’ You motionned for Ethan to come and he put on his ghostface mask, hiding his identity, and joined you on the bed, already shirtless. ‘’He’s a bit camera shy, so don’t be mean to him.’’

You kissed Ethan’s shoulder and the chat went wild with requests and tips for you and Ethan to do specific things. Some wanted you to choke on his cock or rail you until there’s tears running down your face, and there were also weird ones who were asking Ethan to sucking your toes. You held back a grimace.

‘’Say ‘hi’ to our viewers, babe,’’ you told Ethan.

‘’H-hi.’’ He tried his best to maintain composure, but his nervousness was evident in the way his voice trembled as he greeted the viewers.

‘’My boyfriend said I’ve been bratty today,’’ you said to your viewers, running your hands over your thighs to make the tips increase.

Ehtan sat still beside you, watching as you continued to interact with your viewers. He read through the requests as they poured in, his eyes widening behind the mask when coming across very explicit demands.

‘’He said I needed to be punished for it. Do you think he is right?’’

On the screen, the chat exploded with enthusiastic responses, emojis, and various explicit comments. It seemed like your viewers were eager to see how this scenario would unfold.

Big-cock001: Tie her up and don’t let her cum. Naughty girls don’t get to cum😈

cumfordaddy: Destroy her pussy until she cries and begs

‘’I think,’’ Ethan started, his voice, though still shaky, gaining a hint of confidence while he ran his finger along your jawline and down your neck. ‘’That you should get punished.’’ His hand went further down, following an invisible line down your breasts and stopping at the thin band of your panties. ‘’But first, brats don’t get to wear panties. Brats keep their pretty pussies free and open for business.’’ With a swift motion, Ethan pulled your panties down in one smooth tug, exposing your bare mound to the camera.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he pushed you down onto the mattress. You weren't entirely sure where he was going with this, but the continuous ‘ding’ of tips flooding in was a clear indication that your viewers were thoroughly enjoying the show.

Ethan finished taking off your panties and tied them around his wrist like a bracelet. ‘’Now, show me that pretty pussy,’’ he instructed, parting your legs gently, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs as he did so.

You looked up at Ethan, figuring where his eyes were through the mask, and grinned, feeling a wave of excitement wash over you. ‘’Is my pussy pretty enough for you, Mr. Ghostface?’’ you cooed playfully, flashing your best doe eyes.

Blood rushed down Ethan’s dick immediately, turned on by your words. He reached down to palm it through his boxers, barely concealed beneath the gray garment, and groaned as he felt himself throb with need. He wanted to tear the mask off and get his mouth on you, but that would reveal his identity.

So he settled for spreading your folds with gentle precision, watching you glisten with arousal. ‘’So fucking pretty,’’ Ethan confirmed. He collected some of your arousal on his finger and brought it to your lips, waiting for you to taste yourself.

The chat was blowing up on your laptop, more tips incoming.

You hummed explicitly around his finger, making a show.

Ethan's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you taste your own arousal. If possible, he got even harder.

You reached between your legs to do the same, to make him taste you, but before you could reach low enough, Ethan grabbed your wrist and held it above your head. ‘’No touching. Just me’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy @s-al-em @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres @miqi-16 @not-liah @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fanfiction #scream #scream 6 #scream imagine

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ccbb2222 · 8 months

Text

I Can Fix That — Bradley Bradshaw x Reader One Shot

It's been awhile...hasn't it? Summary: Bradley has a new neighbor, and he's more than willing to come to her rescue on more than one occasion.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff Also....yes the title is a reference to Holes :)

The first time Bradley Bradshaw comes to your rescue is on moving day.

The heat was unforgiving, your UHaul was filled to the brim, and you were beginning to doubt that you could handle moving all on your own. With an aching back and a scowl, you begin to pull on the side of the loveseat that you had somehow managed to lug into the UHaul just hours before. Panic struck your eyes as you realized it was about to topple over directly on top of you. "Woah, woah, woah," You hear a gruff voice say as a muscular arm makes its way into you peripheral vision. The love seat levels out, and you turn your head to thank your hero.

Deep, honey colored brown eyes, soft and warm distract you for a moment. "Thank you," You say, voice soft, as you realize just how close the handsome stranger is standing to you.

A deep chuckle makes its way out of his mouth as he smiles, "No worries. No one should die by the hands of a sofa." Over the course of the next hour, Bradley, as you've come to learn his name, helps you unpack your UHaul. You try not to get distracted by his gentle coaching, "Just a bit to the left, you got it. Nice, just a bit further." Your mind wanders to thoughts of Bradley wrapped in your sheets, instructing you this way and that. Your cheeks warm, and you're grateful of the excuse of manual labor as the cause.

Sweat drips from both of your bodies in the San Diego heat as you stand back with your hands on your hips. Bradley expertly pulls the sliding door down on the back of the rental truck, and you admire his back muscles as they ripple against the his shirt.

"I cannot thank you enough," You say, daring a glance at him. His biceps glisten under his black t-shirt, and you're momentarily entranced by him.

"Don't mention it," He says turning to face you with a ruffled brow, "This is a lot for one person to handle. Why didn't anyone offer to help you?"

Your smile falls slightly as you remember the cause for your move. Your break up. It was unexpected, to say the least. You walked in on your boyfriend of four years with his "work friend," tangled in the sheets of your four post bed. The bed you had picked out together at a flea market, and the one you left behind despite your love for the aesthetic. It was ruined now.

"Let's just say I was in a rush to move," You supply vaguely, and Bradley nods his head, unbothered.

"Well, if you need anything, just come find me, I'm in 24B."

"Thank you Bradley," you say, and he smiles softly, raising his hand for a wave, and heading back into the building.

_____ The second time Bradley comes to your rescue is after you forget your keys to the main apartment building. Why had you decided to take your trash out in a torrential downpour? You scowl, picturing vividly your keys hanging on the key rack. Inside your unit. Leaving you stranded and your clothes seeping through.

You try to buzz your neighbors, truly anyone, to let you in. But following a notice from the building warning against letting in non-residents, you weren't surprised when your buzzes went unanswered.

"Fuck," You say, trying to press your self to the side of the building, the small overhang not providing much relief from the wind and rain. Your white t-shirt was fully soaked through, and there was a 99% chance you resembled a drowned cat.

As if your luck couldn't get any worse, you see a familiar Bronco pull into the parking lot, and you shut your eyes in defeat. Of course your hot neighbor had to once again come to your rescue.

You knees nearly buckle as you see him, dressed in what looks like a flight suit making his way to you, a slight jog in his step as he dodges raindrops.

"Locked out?" He smiles, fishing quickly for his keys.

"Nope, just enjoying the storm," You say with a playful sarcasm.

He chuckles and unlocks the door, motioning for you to go in before him.

"Thank you," You turn to him while collecting your sopping wet hair over one shoulder and quickly making your way into the dry lobby. "Hey," You say, taking in his full appearance, "I didn't realize you were in the service. Guess that explains why you're so helpful all the time." Bradley smiles, "Yes ma'am," God, that sent a shock straight to your core, "Naval aviator at your service." Now that...made him even hotter.

"Very impressive," You nod your head approvingly, "Although, it's nothing compared to a work-from-home graphic designer. I've had life or death moments with Photoshop like you wouldn't believe." Were you...flirting? And was he...kinda into it? "Oh," he clutches at his chest, "the agony, I'm sure." The two of you walk towards the elevator and he once again motions for you to step in first.

"Are you also locked out of your apartment?" He asks, scratching at his neck, and you try not to get distracted by his bicep, "You're welcome to come hangout while you wait for a locksmith." "Luckily I left my door unlocked," You say before you can even catch the words coming out of your mouth.

He nods, and looks down.

Fuck. You had an in. You could've been in his space, with him and you blew it. "But thank you for the —" the elevator doors open quickly and you realize you're on your floor, "offer Bradley. I appreciate it!" He smiles with a nod, and you exit the elevator, turning to see his eyes once more and his lips quirk up in a smile as the doors close.

______

The third time Bradley Bradshaw comes to your rescue is when your oven is, quite literally, on fire. You intended on baking Bradley some thank you brownies (and okay, it was also a ploy to see him again), but it turned into a complete disaster. Somehow you didn't notice the crack at the bottom of your glass baking dish, and brownie batter dripped onto the bottom of the oven, causing smoke and eventually flames.

"Jesus Christ!" You let out an exasperated cry as your fire alarm starts buzzing, smoke starts to fill your apartment, and you throw open your door to find the nearest fire extinguisher.

You're stunned to see an equally surprised looking Bradley outside your door.

"What are you doing here?" You say, not impolitely, but given your frazzled state, you instantly feel paranoid about your outburst. "I was coming by to see if you happened to have any eggs to spare, but I can see you have bigger issues to deal with," He smirks at you and pushes past you to assess the damage. Smoke is quickly filling your small kitchen and you cough as you just point mutely to the source.

Bradley reaches up to disable the fire alarm, and turns the oven off before asking, "Do you have any baking soda?" You quickly throw open the fridge and hand it to him. He calmly opens the oven, dumps the baking soda on the flames, and you watch in awe as they begin to simmer.

"What — how? Baking soda?" You stammer, words failing you completely.

He chuckles, "My mom was a terrible cook. I learned how to put out an oven fire at a young age. Baking soda kills the oxygen, and the fire with it." You laugh nodding, "Well, that's good to know. Those were...supposed to be for you." You admit, pointing to the sad-looking, burned brownies.

"For me?" He smiles softly, and opens your apartment window to let out the smoke.

"Yeah well," You say, fanning out the smoke with a dish towel, "You came to my rescue more than once over the past few weeks, and now I guess I owe you more than brownies." You motion for him to join you in your smoke-free living room and he follows obediently. "How about dinner?" He says, a smile once again on his face as he leaned his beautiful body against the door way.

You blush instantly. Dinner? Your heart rate races as you return a shy smile. "Dinner sounds nice."

He lets out a chuckle, "For what it's worth, I'd put out weekly oven fires if it meant I could make you blush like that." "Stop it," You say, grabbing at your flaming cheeks. "Oh, did still need those eggs?" You turn to go back into the kitchen and recover from your embarrassment. Bradley grabs your arm softly and turns you to face him, "I never needed eggs. Just needed an excuse to visit my favorite neighbor." __________________________________________________

IM ALIVE.

Helpful neighbor Bradley just hits different.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw x reader

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odinsonslut · 1 year

Text

Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n: I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm.

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated.

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued.

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself.

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention.

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond.

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.”

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand.

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

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sailorkamino · 2 years

Text

Hospital Bed Confessions

relationships: jake lockley x fem!reader, established marc spector x fem!reader, steven grant x fem!reader

word count: 2k

summary: As long as Jake can remember he's only had Marc and Steven to protect - then you came into the picture. Jake is scared to admit just how much you mean to him until you're injured, then he can no longer hide his feelings.

warnings: car accident/hospitalization/injuries, protective (but soft) jake, referenced childhood abuse, non sexual showering together, little bit of jealous!jake, jake has never been in a healthy/loving relationship and it shows.

translations: cariño- dear, princesa- princess, mi vida- my life, muñeca- doll

‘Has Y/N sent her home text yet?’ Steven asks from his reflection in Gus’ II’s and Gil’s fish tank. Jake looks away from the TV, “her what?” His alter looks annoyed, ‘you know what I’m talking about. The text She sends everynight to tell us she got home safe.’

Jake sighs dramatically picking up their shared phone. When he sees the late time illuminated on the screen something twists in his gut. Ever since you started dating Steven, and later Marc, you would send daily texts to whoever was fronting. The amount would vary depending on your workload but there were always three constants: good morning, I’m home, good night.

Jake clenches his jaw. He tells himself he’s being irrational, clingy even. He tries to keep his voice even when he responds. “No, but she said she was working late.”

This time it’s Marc that speaks up. ‘She should definitely be home by now. Call her.’

“You two are so dramatic,” he grumbles, although he was about to do that anyway. You don’t answer. Jake tries to ignore the worry churning in his gut. You’re an adult, you don’t need him hovering, but something feels off. Marc and Steven are pestering him to go to your flat but he barks at them in Spanish, trying to gather his own thoughts. A notification has them all freezing.

Jake takes only a moment to read the message before an unreadable expression flickers across his face. He bolts out of the flat, leaving his altars in the dark. If you heard the way he was yelling at the cabbie to hurry up you would be pissed but manners are the last thing on his mind. Once the car comes to a stop he throws some money (including a tip because he’s not a monster) at the poor driver before jumping out.

He’s practically running through the hallways, ignoring the poor doctors and nurses dodging his path. Finally he finds the room. He bursts through the door but the sight before him makes him freeze. He’s seen, and done, many violent things but seeing you hurt is something he’ll never forget.

You peer at him for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar stance and the way he holds his jaw, before a tired smile spreads across your cut lips, “Jake.” He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and approaches your bed. His hands clench by his sides. He wants to touch you, reassure himself that you’re here, but he’s afraid of hurting you worse. “You should see the other guy,” you joke. He doesn’t laugh, eyes becoming impossibly darker.

“What happened?”

You blink slowly at him. You know Jake is incredibly protective but you had never witnessed it towards you. Jake has always kept you at arms length so to speak. You would text some whenever he was fronting but he woukd mostly just tell you about Marc and Steven. He didn’t seem to realize that you cared about him just as much, and wanted to get to know him too.

“I don’t know, it happened so fast. I was driving home, I saw headlights then just… pain.” You wince at the memory.

His gaze is much softer now. “Are you in pain now, cariño?”

The pet name has you grinning, despite how sore your face is. “Some, but not too bad. They have me on a lot of drugs.” His eyes travel your scratched and bruised form. He wonders how many more injuries he can’t see and clenches his jaw. “Where are you hurt?”

You hesitate for a moment, knowing he won’t like the answers. “Umm my back is sprained, broken ribs, whiplash, and a concussion… plus I have some cuts but it’s not as bad as it sounds.” Your attempts to soften the blow do nothing as he curses in Spanish (which is actually really sexy but now is not in the time.) His brows are furrowed in concentration and you can only assume Steven and Marc are griping in his head.

You brush your fingers against his in an attempt to calm him down. He looks down to see you weakly grabbing his rougher hand, effectively making his heart stutter. “Fuck, you’re cold,” he hisses, gently running his thumb over your chilled skin. He lets go of your hand (much to your disappointment) so he can remove his jacket and drape it over your body. You breathe in the familiar cologne that all the boys wear, snuggling into the leather.

“Thank you, Jakey.”

He shakes his head at the nickname as he takes a seat in the plush chair beside your bed. You turn your head to look at him playfully. “You know this isn’t how I imagined our first date.” He scoffs in response, "this isn’t our first date." You feel the sting of rejection and consider hiding under his jacket to cry a little but then he takes your hand in his (where it belongs, in your humble opinion.)

"Once you're better I’ll take you somewhere real nice, okay? But you have to heal up first.”

Your heart rises from where it had fallen in the pit of your stomach to flutter in your chest. “I’d like that,” you hum. Your gaze travels to your interlaced fingers, thinking about your words carefully. “To be honest, I didn’t even think you liked me.”

‘Nice going, locker,’ Marc seethes mentally. ‘You hurt her feelings.’

Jake ignores him as usual. “Oh princesa,” he sighs deeply, “I’ll admit at first I didn’t trust you. Nothing personal, I just didn’t want Marc or Steven to get hurt. But then I saw the way you treated them and I started falling for you too.”

This time his altars are quiet. Your voice is soft when you ask, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how. I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve never cared about someone the way I care about you. And you seemed so happy with them.”

Your heart melts at his confession. You’re not naive. You know Jake has a dark side. He’s the manifestation of anger and resentment Marc felt as an abused child, but he’s also a protector. “We’re lucky to have you,” you softly confess.

He looks at you in awe for a moment before you notice his lip slightly quivering. He bows his head but you can still tell he’s holding back tears. “Oh baby,” you coo softly, wanting nothing more than to wrap him in your arms and hold him against your chest, or even wipe his wet cheeks, but your injured back and sides won’t allow it.

‘You deserve to be happy too, mate,’ Steven pipes up, only making his eyes burn more. ‘Yeah man, stop shutting her out. She cares about you,’ Marc adds.

“Are you okay?”

He nods slowly, his altar’s words echoing in his mind. “Sorry princesa, I should be the one taking care of you.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m glad you can be open with me.”

He looks at you with so much adoration it makes you shy. Then he gently kisses the back of your hand, “I should probably let Marc and Steven talk to you. They’re worried sick.”

“Okay, but only if you promise to visit me again, amor.”

He grins at the sound of you using his first language. “I promise, mi vida.”

____

Within a few days you’re released from the hospital. Your boyfriends insists on staying with you until you’re better.

“Alright muñeca, bed or couch?” Jake asks. “What about shower? I smell like the hospital.” You counter, leaning into his solid chest. His arm flexes around your waist as he leads (practically carries) you into the bathroom. “Do you need help, princesa?” He asks. You nod shyly.

You lean against the counter as he gingerly pulls your baggy shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare (you learnt quickly that broken ribs and bras don’t mix.) “There’s my beautiful girl,” he coos. You grin bashfully, looking away as he kneels in front of you to pull down your sweatpants and underwear, leaving a gentle kiss on your hip. “Jake!” You protest shyly with heated cheeks as he stands in front of you.

“Sorry mi vida, couldn’t resist. This is my first time undressing you, after all.” He smirks before ducking into the shower to turn it on. He strips himself before wrapping his large arms around you to help you in the shower. You let out a happy sigh as the warm water hits your sore body

“Stand still so I can wash you,” he instructs, reaching for your fruity body wash. “Wait,” you interrupt, making him freeze. “Can you use yours? I like smelling like you guys,” you sheepishly admit. It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re worried you weirded him out, when his lips brush against your ear,

“Marc wants you to know that that’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard.”

You grin at his words, trying to ignore the goosebumps left in their wake. “Tell Marc he’s cuter.”

“Alright, alright, enough flirting through me.”

You bring one of Jake's large hands to your mouth, pecking his knuckles. “Aw baby, don’t be jealous. You know I don’t play favorites with my boys.”

Jake smiles so big it makes his eyes crinkle. Suddenly belonging to someone doesn’t seem so bad, especially when they belong to you too. He wordlessly kisses your neck and reaches for their body wash. You giggle to yourself but it turns into a gasp when he puts the cold loofah on your back. “Did I hurt you?” He asks worridley, movements stilling. You shake your head softly, “no, I’m ok, just surprised me. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Once he’s washed your back and shoulders he helps you turn around to face him. He runs the loofah over your front, being extra careful of your broken ribs. He places intermittent kisses across your face and forehead to distract you from any discomfort, mumbling apologizes against your damp skin.

After you’re cleaned off he helps you out of the shower, running a fluffy towel across your body to dry you off. “Alright, let’s get you to bed, mi vida,” he coos as he walks you to your room and sits you on your bed. He grabs you some underwear then moves to your closet.

“What do you wanna wear?”

You immediately point to your favorite stolen item of clothing. “The black jumper.”

Jake takes it off its hanger, examining it closely. “Is this Steven’s?”

“Mhmm, I always take his clothes.” You confess as he lays it on the bed beside you.

“Well Steven isn’t the one who just helped you shower but by all means,” he grumbles to himself as he helps you pull up your panties. You playfully roll your eyes at his childness. “I already told you, baby, I don’t play favorites, it’s just that Stevie wears the comfiest shirts. And besides, I don’t have any of your clothes yet.”

“Oh, so now he’s Stevie?”

“I tried to call you Jakey and you said you didn’t like it.”

“I was lying! Obviously!”

You scoff at his unprecedented jealousy. “Just get in bed, Jakey. I want to watch Encanto.”

____

A few Disney movies later Jake leaves to get you dinner and feed Gus II and Gil. When he comes back he’s bearing gifts.

“This one’s from me,” he explains proudly, presenting an oversized Yankees shirt. “And this piece of trash is from Marc,” he groans comically, presenting a Chicago shirt. You giggle at his dramatics, making him smile proudly.

“Oh and the flowers were Steven’s ideas but I picked out the type,” he adds on, holding out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. If your body wasn’t in so much pain you’re sure your heart would be beating out of your chest cartoon style.

“I have the best boyfriends ever.”

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fluff #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fluff #moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #moon boys

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mangoguy · 4 months

Text

"Map out the question"

John "Soap" MacTavish(2022) x GN! Reader

Warnings: none just fluff, never wrote for a Scottish accent before

Johnny goes a bit extra when popping the question. Use of prompt 12!

For @glitterypirateduck Soap It Up challenge.

"I'm going to marry ye'"

That was what Johnny said one year into your relationship, you talked about it before and agreed you both liked to get married someday. But you thought he wasn't being totally serious about it considering his friend, Kyle, recently proposed to his partner. But then he couldn't stop mentioning it at least once every month and said he had it all planned out. Again you thought he wasn't being serious...

Another 6 months pass, and he's been quiet about the topic for the last few months. Summer was when he normally went on his yearly biking trip across Scotland (when he wasn't on deployment), and this year was no different. Unfortunately, you couldn't go though you weren't too hung up on it, considering the last time you tried biking with the guy, you almost "died" as you put it.

"So over dramatic," he muses.

You did promise to meet him on the last day of his journey which he seemed to prefer since he said he had a surprise. Claiming it was going to 'knock your socks off.'

"What would that be, you all sweaty and out of breath? Not much of a surprise Johnny," you snickered, deciding to give him a hard time.

"Har har, I guess ye' will just have tae wait and find out," he grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

"You better take lots of photos and videos," you playfully threatened.

"Aye, I will... I definitely will."

That was a month ago, it was the last day of his journey as he was set to meet you in Glasgow today. You were waiting by the waterside, a bit anxious for his arrival when you heard someone call your name. You turned around and saw him in all his glory, he looked triumphantly at you as you ran over and brought him into a bear hug.

"Miss ye' too," he mumbled into your shoulder, hugging you tightly in one arm while holding his bike with the other.

"How was it? I can see you got a few scrapes..." You pulled back and examined him, grimacing slightly at his legs.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, it was great! Loved seeing the scenery again" he grinned before kissing your cheek. He placed his bike on the railing.

"So, what's that surprise you mentioned before you left? You were hyping it up before your trip," you chirped.

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there..." He paused before speaking again.

"I took some photos like ye' asked, wanna see them now?" He started fishing out his phone from his backpack. You nodded your head, smiling as he brought the phone into your hand. You started scrolling through the album. It was mostly pictures of the scenery he saw and the occasional selfie, but one particular photo caught your eye. It was a screenshot of what looked like a map of Scotland, but that's not what caught your eye. It was the words that were drawn on it.

'Marry me ❤️'

The next photo was of Johnny holding an engagement ring. You slowly brought the phone down and saw Johnny on one knee, holding out the same engagement ring that was in the photo.

"I wasn't joking y'know? I can't imagine my life with anyone else but ye'... yer so beautiful and I find myself lucky every day to have ye' in my life" he expressed, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. He seemed shy all of a sudden, fidgeting slightly out of nervousness. Despite this, his eyes were looking at you with so much love and hope.

You were quite speechless yourself, words escaped you for a moment. Your heart felt like it was going to burst from the overwhelming amount of love Johnny was pouring on you. You stared into his eyes before gathering your voice.

"Yes, I'll marry you! Is that even a question??" You beamed, feeling some tears fall but you had the biggest smile on your face. He had the biggest smile on his face as he stood up and delicately placed the ring on your finger, wiping the tears that continued to fall from your eyes.

"Wait... there's no way you went biking across the country just to spell that... right?" You asked.

"Of course I did! I took this very seriously besides I needed to make it memorable and if you still don't believe me I have a video," he explained, going back to the boyish grin he loved giving you.

"Oh, a video you say?" You smiled playfully but brought him closer to you, planting a few kisses on his face before finally kissing him on the lips.

"Well, I needed to one-up Kyle's proposal somehow..." he mumbled into the kiss.

Oh, you gotta be kidding me, MacTavish...

A/n: So this is my first official long fic on here! I really appreciate any feedback. I was inspired by this story I read about this dude who traveled across Japan and proposed to his partner via drawing out 'Marry me' with a GPS tracker and thought, hey Soap would totally be that extra lmao hope you enjoyed it!

Words: 798

#call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfic #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soapitup #johnsoapmactavish #fanfic #x reader #Guy.Writes

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highvern · 5 months

Text

Teach Me IV

extra credit

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: mentions of drug use (weed) and alcohol , phone sex, exchange of nudes, both are down horrendous, mutual masturbation, making out, dry humping, idiots in like, dokyeom has a praise kink and isn't ashamed, snippets of disgusting fluff

Length: ~5.1k

Note: ugh ... anyways! i know i mentioned potential angst in an ask but i'm weak

read more here

The best part of starting Fall Break on a Friday is having to do absolutely nothing for five blissful days. But because he is easily swindled by his friends, Dokyeom is ass over tits and the clock hasn’t even chimed 8PM. After the incredibly awkward week following your latest tryst, he’s thankful for the mind numbing freedom of alcohol, weed, and nothing but miles of mountain and woods.

Or he would be if wasn’t still upset you turned down his invitation to join him this weekend.

So he sneaks into his room and pulls up your Instagram. You're at the top of his results when he clicks into the search bar.

You posted a new photo this afternoon. A memory of a girls night out, sandwiched between two of your friends outside some bar, nothing but wide drunk smiles and closed eyes under the flash of the camera. Dokyeom already saw it. Already liked it.

He keeps scrolling, down down down till he reaches his favorite picture. A frozen memory of you outside some cafe, slumped in an iron wrought chair, sunglasses obscuring half of your face; your mouth is spread over a wild guffaw, teeth flashing and the corner of your lips arched high in amusement. Whatever had amused you pulled your entire body in, shoulders curved up as your chest caves, chin tipped back.

The soft pink sundress hugging you snugly is an added bonus.

And somewhere in his muddled mind, Dokyeom decides he needs to talk to you. Right. Now.

After the third ring, the call connects.

“Heyyy, pretty lady.”

“Oh my god, are you drunk?” You laugh, and Dokyeom can imagine the same expression from the photo flashing across your face.

God, she even sounds pretty. He thinks.

He whines through the goofy smile plucking the corners of his lips, “Nooooo.”

“Oh, really?”

“Maybe I’m a little drunk.”

“Only a little?” You jest.

“Maybe a lot-tle.”

“I can tell.”

“Wish you were here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Haven’t seen you in like a week.”

If he wasn’t wasted then he might feel embarrassed, but Dokyeom finds the words slipping past him without a second thought as he rocks back and forth, caught in waves of emotion.

“How’s the cabin been so far?”

The sudden change in topic scratches unpleasantly but he lets it go.

“Would be more fun if you were here.” He confesses. “What are you up to?”

“Laying in bed, watching Love Island.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Seriously?” You scoff.

“What?”

“You’re so lame, Kyeom.”

“I’m curious about what you do when you’re alone.” He tries to sound innocent. “You’re alone, right?”

“Yeah, Ava left for the weekend.”

“So what are you doing this weekend?”

He’s fishing for the real reason you told him you couldn't come with him to the cabin. You’d been purposefully vague the few times Dokyeom probed since last Thursday, claiming any excuse under the sun: a friend coming to visit, getting ahead on assignments, pulling a few extra shifts at the library. Anything to avoid flat out rejection.

“You know, this and that. What about you guys? Any big plans?”

“Some of the guys mentioned a hike tomorrow. And Beer-lympics Sunday.”

“God, you’re such a frat bro.”

“I can do better.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. What are you wearing?” He tries again.

He hears you huff, “Pajamas.”

“Sexy.”

“I actually think this is your shirt.”

“Oh? Send me a pic.”

“What do I get if I do?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you hard?”

“I can be.”

“I’ll send you a picture if you send me one too.”

“Fuck, okay.” He agrees, tapping open his camera app and trying out a few angles, working himself up in the process.

Dokyeom settles for cupping the bulge over his pants, outline of his cock pronounced as he lightly squeezes. He’s highly aware of your obsession with his hands, so he tries to flex his arm forcing the web of veins to rise as the muscles clench.

“I’m waiting.” You goad on the other end of the phone, knocking him out of his concentration.

The five photos he’s snapped all look about the same. Settling on the least blurry one, he quickly opens your messages and sends it before changing his mind.

A sharp inhale announces its arrival on your phone.

“Your turn.”

He can hear the rustle of clothes and blankets through the speaker, and a whispered curse following a dull thud. Dokyeom can’t help the chuckle that escapes as he pictures whatever caused it.

The photo you send back takes him a second to decipher. You're definitely wearing his shirt, the bottom hem bunched across your breasts, the swells of flesh peaking out near the top of the picture; perfectly omitting your face. Tracing down your bare stomach, your hips are wrapped in powdery blue cotton panties. And if that wasn’t enough, one hand is stuffed underneath, pulling the elastic taunt across the crease in your hip as it stretches to accommodate your fingers.

Holy shit.

“You like it?”

“You're evil.” Head rolling back, Dokyeom groans as he takes it all in. “You want me dead.”

You giggle at his tone.

“Fuck,” he mutters, continuing to study your figure. “You’re so hot.”

“Kyeomie,” you whine, obviously embarrassed under his attention.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” you mewl.

“Dirty girl.”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

The back and forth of your relationship is the funnest part, in Dokyeom’s opinion. You like when he puts you in your place as much as he enjoys you putting him in his. It helps that even when he assumes the more dominant role, you still praise him as if he’s the best thing since sliced bread. It scratches that submissive part of his brain that always wants needs to be good. Especially for you.

“I can think of a few things.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Phone sex is unfamiliar territory. He isn’t sure how much is too much and the awkward parting last week still stains his brain. But you just sent him a photo with your hands down your underwear so Dokyeom tries to go with the flow.

“Could make you cry on my cock.” He flushes when you remain silent for a second too long . “Sorry, that felt awkward.”

“No!” You object, voice crackling through the speaker at the sharp increase in volume. “It, ugh, that’s hot.”

“What? Crying from my dick?”

“You don’t think so?”

Dokyeom’s cock twitches, as if to signal its eager agreement.

“I think anything involving you near my penis is hot so I’m not really a good judge.”

“Well, just imagine it. Remember that time we fucked at Wonwoo and Mingyu’s house party?”

“Not appreciating you saying other dudes’ names while my dick is in my hand but yeah.”

You snicker at his reprimand. “Anyway. Remember how I wanted you to fuck my mouth?”

Dokyeom takes a sharp inhale as the memory rushes forward. You on your knees, eyes glossy and lips bruised, begging him to stretch your throat. The second the request reached his ears Dokyeom nearly came on your sweater covered chest, but he’d ignored your request, hauling your ass up onto the counter in favor of stuffing your cunt. You hadn’t complained.

“But you wouldn’t because you didn’t wanna mess up my makeup?”

“You looked pretty… didn’t wanna ruin it.”

“Yeah but I wanted you to.”

Another squeeze of his cock as he slips his hand under his boxers, “Yeah?”

“You’re really hot when you tell me what to do.”

“Fuck.” He groans, vocabulary limited by the husky timbre of your voice. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhhmm, doesn't feel as good as when you do it though.”

A pathetic thrust through his fist at the praise. “I know but I’ll make it up to you next time. Promise.”

“How?”

“Might tie you up. Fuck you till your screamming.” Dokyeom doesn’t know who he’s become but you seem to like it.

“Oh?”

Your reply is all breath, the same way you sign when he gives you his fingers after a long study session. The beads of pre-cum on his tip increase as he works his cock, almost able to fill the way you’d coat his fingers if he was there to give them to you.

“You like that? Want me to use your tight little pussy? Fill it up?”

“Want you to come inside me again, Minnie. So hot.”

“I know, pretty girl. So desperate for it aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” you squeak, “Are you close?”

“Send me another picture.”

Only a few seconds pass, filled with muffled groans on his end and the clack of your nails on yours. Dokyeom rushes to open the new attachment you’ve blessed him with, heart clenching when his stomach caves around a moan.

The photo is blurry from your haste but he doesn’t care. You're drenched. The crotch of your panties tinged darker as you pull them aside, flashing the way your entrance stretches around three of your fingers. Your clit just barely visible, puffy and swollen from neglect.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Minnie—” Your voice sounds far away, and he realizes you've put yourself on speaker so you can use both hands.

“Can you do something for me?” he grounds, squeezing the base of his cock to stop his impending end.

“Anything.”

Another deep breath before he lays himself bare, “Drive up here tomorrow.”

“What?” You ask, the springs of your mattress squeaking as you sit up, clearly confused by the switch in pace.

“I wanna see you.”

“I—”

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Dokyeom scrambles.

Another pause before a timid, “How?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Pretty sure I’ll enjoy it just as much as you.”

“I don’t know…”

“If you don’t want to, it's fine but,” he sighs, “if you can I want you to come. And not just because of sex.”

“Then why?”

“Because I like—” He cuts himself off hastily. “Because I like spending time with you.”

As seconds tick by without response, Dokyeom is sure you're going to call his bluff. Or worse, laugh in his face. He’s sweating, heart beating irregularly as he waits for your reply.

“Really?” Shyness creeps into your voice.

Dokyeom nods before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll come.”

“Really?” Dokyeom asks, eyes wide and jaw slack. No way it's this easy.

“Really,” he can hear you smile. “But only because you said you’d give me whatever I want.”

“You’re gonna make me regret that aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.” You tease, enunciating each syllable as his heart beats in time. “But Kyeomie…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m still wet.”

“Can’t have that.” He tsks.

“Please,”

“Be a good girl and play with your clit.” Dokyeom instructs, slipping right back in.

A hitch in your breath precludes a satisfied “hmmm”. He wishes he could taste both on his tongue.

“Touch yourself too.” You plea.

Dokyeom’s wound so tight a gust of wind would have his load all over his stomach. He tells you as much.

“Shiiit” You curse, catching up to him. “Close.”

“Yeah? Think you deserve it?”

If he was there, Dokyeom knows he’d see the frustrated kick of your legs and feel the daggers shooting from your eyes.

“You ignored me all last week, I don’t know if I should let you.”

“Dokyeom, please!”

“But since I get to see you tomorrow.” he tuts, covering up the catch of his breath as you plea again. “Let me hear it.”

The call devolves into choked curses and groans. He keeps the screen close to his face as he focuses back on the picture you sent, painting his fist with streaks of white as you beg him to cum, choke on how much you want to taste. Your stuttered “ah”s floating right into his ears as you twist and shake in your bed hours away.

When Dokyeom can feel himself returning to his body, he soaks in the lull of you catching your breath.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” You sigh dreamily.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Send me the address.”

“Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy you’re coming…”

“Goodnight,” you chuckle at the double entendre.

“Night.”

Even with the satisfaction of an orgasm coursing through his veins, the fizzing bubbles of happiness in his chest have nothing to do with the cum cooling in his underwear.

The drive to the cabin is two hours and thirty seven nerve wrecking minutes. Dokyeom has been up since six, texting you the address, asking you to let him know when you left, keep him updated on any pit stops you needed to make. Not to rush up the mountain and drive safely.

The digital clock on your dash reads just past noon as you slowly creep up a narrow gravel road, praying another car doesn’t swoop around the bend. Of course a pack of frat boys would choose some creepy woods to set up camp for a long weekend.

You dial Dokyeom’s number just to be safe. Barely a full ring passes before he picks it up.

“Hey!”

“Hey… I think I’m pulling up to the right place?” You scan for any sign of a driveway on either side of the road without any luck.

“Oh shit, I’ll come outside. Jun got us lost yesterday when he drove up so it’s tricky.”

Taking a left as you finally spot the red mailbox with a beaver carved into the dark wooden post at the end of the lengthy driveway, a two story cabin comes into view between the trees. Dokyeom jogs from the porch to meet you at the edge of the yard. Rolling down your window as he makes his way over, you greet him.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” he smiles, bright enough to blind a village.

“Um, where should I park?”

“Just pull up behind anyone, it doesn't matter.”

“Alright.”

Dokyeom walks next to you as you pull in behind a white sedan. Once in park, you pop the trunk before slipping out the door. He already has your bag tossed over his shoulder, tangling your fingers with his as he pulls you towards the house.

“Some of the guys went on a hike earlier so I’ve been helping Seungkwan and Mingyu clean up.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to wait for me.”

“I wanted to.”

Before you can think too much on that statement, Seungkwan interrupts by tackling you in a hug.

“Oh thank god you’re here.”

“Hi to you too.” You say, carrying his weight as he goes boneless.

“Hi,” he responds with a squeeze, before turning to Dokyeom with a blunt, “Goodbye.”

Seungkwan pulls you inside the front door, beelining for the sliding glass doors that lead to the back porch.

“Hey!”

Without slowing, Seungkwan fends him off. “She was my friend first!”

“Yeah well,” Dokyeom flounders like a washed up fish.

“You dazzle with words. Now go away.” Seungkwan sniffs.

Sending an apologetic smile over your shoulder, you allow Seungkwan to usher you along. You spot another person in the kitchen, face shadowed by the hood of his sweater. He doesn’t look up when you and Seungkwan shuffle pass.

“Ignore Mingyu, his girlfriend broke up with him yesterday.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, anyway.” Seungkwan plops onto one of the chairs circled around the patio table. “Speaking of girlfriends—”

“Did you finally get one?”

“Being mean is bad for your health.” He deadpans. “As I was saying, did Dokyeom ask you to be his?”

“His what?”

“His girlfriend.”

Your ears ring at the nonchalance in Seungkwan’s tone.

“Why would he ask me to be his girlfriend?”

“Why else would you get up at the ass crack of dawn to come to this dump?”

“He said he wanted me to come.” You answer, turning your head to observe the lake beyond the thin tree line.

“After you told him no? Wow, didn’t realize he was that good in bed.”

Your hands itch to circle his neck and shake but Seungkwan is saved by the very man in question.

“Hate to interrupt but I thought you might want some coffee?”

You turn around, smiling as Dokyeom leans out of the sliding glass door, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“We aren’t done talking!” Seungkwan calls as you reach the door.

“I am!”

Mingyu apparently retreated to his room after you stepped outside, nowhere to be found in the kitchen or living room beyond the counter.

The isolation makes you nervous which is strange because it’s just Dokyeom. But his words last night over the phone, coupled with Seungkwan’s on the porch twist your guts uncomfortably.

It’s too late to bail. You can’t claim illness since Dokyeom will fawn over you like some mother hen. Besides, you don’t actually want to leave. You just can’t stand the nagging voice in the back of your head insisting this isn’t what friends do. Even if said friends are having sex.

��Wanna show me your room?”

“Sure!” Dokyeom is still cheery, eagerly leading you upstairs and down a maze of hallways.

The outside of the cabin, while daunting, failed to betray how big it actually is as you pass door after door on your journey.

The room Dokyeom is sharing with Soonyoung is cozy. Two full sized beds with little room for anything else and an en suite the size of a closet. But at least you won’t have to battle it out with anyone else for a bathroom during the next three days.

Dokyeom was lucky enough to claim the bed closests to the bay windows, framing a pleasant view of the backyard, dock, and sprawling lake. When you step closer, you can spot Seungkwan’s mop of hair as he leans on the edge of the railing that borders the porch; hand animated as the other holds his phone near his mouth.

Turning back to the bed, you spot your bag on the floor at the foot of it. The room is ten degrees hotter when you realize Dokyeom was lying right there as he talked you through an orgasm barely twelve hours ago. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet as you try to find something to say.

Dokyeom seems unperturbed, flopping onto the mattress, arms thrown wide in invitation. A shy grin twists your lips. Hair a mess, and cheeks flushed, Dokyeom looks cute. He’s always cute but navy crew neck and gray sweats transforms him into a cozy dream. The mattress dips under your knee as you crawl to lay next to him.

Settling your head over his heart, arms twining around one another, you feel your own give a peculiar squeeze. It’s truly no different than all the other times you’ve cuddled, albeit those were post-coitous; except it is. Dokyeom told you he wanted you here, that he likes spending time with you, and now he’s squeezing the life out of you as he snags one of your legs to wrap around his waist.

When sleep tickles your nose, pleasantly warm and inviting, you ignore how Dokyeom isn’t your boyfriend. What you have right now is perfect enough.

—

The sweet hum of Dokyeom’s voice lulls you awake, a simple melody you vaguely recognize from his playlist he insists on blasting during your hangouts. Gray light from outside casts the room sullenly dark. Storm clouds, swollen to a near black, eclipse the late afternoon sun. Dokyeom’s neck is the perfect place to escape the unavoidable sounds of the cabin filled with life, eyes firmly shut as you inhale the smell of laundry detergent and pine.

One of your hands managed to twist under his sweater in your sleep, fisting his thin T-shirt as you attempt to beckon sleep out of hiding and back towards you. A pathetic whine escapes when Dokyeom jostles you in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, only silenced by his lips against your forehead and his stroking your elbow.

“Shhhh,” he coos. “Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Like five.”

Lifting back from his neck, you pout. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

A gentle peck to your lips in response leaves you speechless, a soft quirk to his lips as you gape. Collapsing back into his chest you’re left to bask in each other's presence as you take to silently drawing shapes on his stomach, smiling as he giggles from ticklishness. His thumb traces the curves of your hip, digging to the soft flesh of your waist.

A banging on the door makes you both jump out of your skin before Seungkwan’s voice cuts the air. “Come on love birds, dinners ready!”

“If we don’t get up, do you think he’ll go away?” Dokyeom whispers into your hair.

“No.”

On queue the door flies open, smacking against the wall and rebounding into Seungkwan’s face.

“I said it's time for dinner. Now get your asses up!”

“Go away, Boo!” You demand, chucking a pillow in his direction.

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Dokyeom asks, eyes sharp as he tries to kill the younger man with his eyes.

“When my elder does something respectable, I’ll consider it.” Seungkwan claps. “Now chop chop!”

The dinner Seungkwan so adamantly demanded your presence at is a huge pot of spaghetti and some loaves of garlic bread. Nothing overly complex but the bustling atmosphere downstairs is nice, comfortable.

Dokyeom introduces you to some of the fraternity members you haven’t met, as well as their dates. Squished between him and Seungkwan at the dining table, you barely engage in conversation. Not that you need to. They both fill the space with their own joking easily enough.

Instead, your mind focuses on the warmth of Dokyeom’s shoulder brushing yours, and how he rests his arm on the back of your chair once he finishes his plate.

When the mess is cleared away, a few people scurrying off to who knows where, Soonyoung insists on a game of Beerio Kart as dessert. Excited to have a new person to torment, he drags you to the couch before you can object. In a blink, you find yourself wedged between the armrest and Dokyeom as he explains the game.

“The rules are simple my friends! No drinking and driving and you have to finish your drunk before the race ends. If you fail to do so you’ll be publicly shamed.” Soonyoung claps his hands together, the maniacal glint in his eyes a little too intense for such a silly game.

“And for additional chaos,” Seungkwan adds. “I’ve changed it to blue shells only.”

“Now may the best driver win!”

“Alright, the first round is Jun, Marci, Sam, and me.”

“This is gonna be a bloodbath.” Someone calls from the other couch.

And it is. Jun uses height to hold Seungkwan’s drink out of the younger man’s reach, resulting in Seungkwan launching himself from the couch in a flying kick. They’re both so occupied with one another they don’t notice the race is long finished and neither of their characters moved past the starting line.

A chorus of boos rises as the race times out, designating them as 11th and 12th place.

“Alright, next is DK, Y/N, Wonwoo, and myself.”

“Can I forfeit?”

Dokyeom turns to you. “You wanna quit already?”

“Considering my opponents, yes.”

“New rule: no quitting allowed.” Soonyoung interjects.

“You can’t make that a rule!”

“I just did!”

You respond with a thumbs down, much more effective than the middle finger you want to throw his way.

“It’s okay if you’re scared, Y/N.” Wonwoo taunts from across the room.

“I’m not scared!”

“That’s exactly what someone who is scared would say!” Soonyoung chimes in.

Dokyeom just shrugs his shoulders when you look at him for assistance. Figures. He’s part of the reason you don’t want to play. He and his roommate rile each other up too much under normal circumstances, let alone when things get competitive and alcohol is involved.

“Fine, let's play!”

Soonyoung divvies out another round of lukewarm beer cans you’re required to drink as Wonwoo picks the track. N64 Rainbow Road because apparently he’s an asshole. The way he reclines back in his seat confirms it.

To avoid the inevitable mess Dokyeom will make in his haste to chug before the race begins, you stand, shuffling closer to the safe zone at the edge of the coffee table. He tugs at the back of your shirt for a second, prompting you to shake your head.

Dokyeom pouts but stays silent.

“Alright lady and gentlemen! Start. Your. Engines!”

Cracking open your can the second the countdown begins on screen, you gag at the taste of cheap beer as everyone whoops around you. You manage half the can before you have to stop under the threat of it coming back up. Dokyeom and Soonyoung are still drinking, the later shuffling in place restlessly. Wonwoo hasn’t even opened his beer, focusing on getting as far ahead as he can.

Hopefully Seungkwan’s meddling takes care of him.

The race track is chaos as you press your character forward, occasionally blown off course by a blue shell moving to knock out whoever is in first. Half way through the course, you chance a glance at the other corners of the TV. Soonyoung and Dokyeom have finally started lap one, only for Soonyoung to fly over the edge at the first turn and wait to be rescued. Wonwoo is caught in the mess at the front of the pack, only able to maintain first for a fraction of a second before being sniped by a shell.

Once you round the third lap, you take your chance. Stopping in a corner of the track to down the rest of your drink, hoping everyone is too engrossed in the events on screen to see you start moving despite still swallowing a mouth full of beer.

This is when you see Wonwoo make his mistake. He pauses right before the finish line, cracking his can open and nearly choking on the large gulps in his haste. You're gaining quickly, barely a quarter of the last lap remains between your carts. When he finally finishes the can and picks up the controller, you unleash the blue shell you’d been saving. Rosalina goes flying as you sail by, Yoshi claiming fifth place.

“Suck it!” You scream, jumping up and down in victory; joined by Seungkwan who hollers with you as if he won too.

Wonwoo is shell-shocked, literally. He finishes seventh overall, pulling behind another computer character. Soonyoung is on the floor as he and Dokyeom fight for second to last place. The shame goes to Soonyoung as the race times out once again.

When you turn back to the couch you're met with another blinding smile as you drop into his lap.

“Looooooserrrr,” you taunt as you flick his nose gently.

“Yeah whatever.”

“It’s okay, maybe I can teach you sometime.”

He laughs, squeezing you into his chest. “God, you’re annoying.”

“It’s so lonely at the top.” You furrow your brow in mock sorrow.

Another race ensues, more chaos and screaming echoing through the living room. The heat of Dokyeom’s chest sinks through the back of your hoodie, strong plains of muscle shaking as he laughs with the group. When Seungkwan and Soonyoung face each other in a rematch you tempt Dokyeom upstairs, kissing behind his ear before leaning back and giving him the “look.”

The “I-want-your-dick-in-my-mouth” look.

Of which he very is familiar.

Dokyeom lurches forward, eager to appease, forgetting you're still in his lap until your weight knocks him back down. Shaking your head you stand and pull him up behind you, moving towards the stairs uninterrupted as Seungkwan and Soonyoung threaten each other's life and limb behind you.

Tacky wood shiplap digs into your spine uncomfortable as Dokyeom crowds you against the wall. His lips ghost along your jaw, hands on either side of your head to prevent him from crushing you. You don’t have the same concern, pulling him closer with the fabric of his sweater. The door to his room is a few feet to your left but the idea of separating for even a second to make it inside is pure agony.

“What does the winner want for her prize?” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Depends.” You sigh, grinding against the bulge of his thigh.

“On?”

“If my prize is separate from what I get for driving up here.”

Dokyeom nips your chin, dodging your attempt to connect your mouths.

“Depends on what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“I’m gonna do that anyway.”

“I wasn’t done yet.”

He stays silent, teeth bruising the sliver of shoulder peeking out under your collar.

“I want you to fuck me,” cut of with a hiss at his vigor, “and I want to film it.”

Backing out of your neck, Dokyeom blinks at you, mouth wide.

Peeking at him through your eyelashes, you wait for Dokyeom’s brain to restart. His mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. Not a rejection or an agreement. Just surprise.

A heaviness curls in your gut. You thought he’d like the idea, especially from his reaction to the pictures you sent last night. And the videos he’s sent over the months you’ve been hooking up. Videos of him jacking off, cumming on his own stomach, your name on his lips. But maybe you assumed too much.

“Ifyoudon’twanttowedon—”

But a scream interrupts your rant as he lifts you by your thighs, ankles locking around the top of his butt and arms tangling around his neck like a koala. You hold on for dear life as he carries you down the hallway.

Palming your ass harshly with one hand, the other scrambles to open the door as he licks up your neck. The door rattles on its hinges as he kicks it shut but the blood rushing through your ears muffles it.

“Yes, yes. Holy shit, yes.” He’s whining into your ear, hips rutting into your core as he lands unceremoniously on the bed, crushing you underneath him.

You’re shocked for a second, woefully unprepared for his enthusiasm. But another harsh rush against you, coupled with his hands pawing up your shirt to palm your chest makes you bold.

Two things you know to be true about Dokyeom:

First, he has a ragging praise kink. If you tell him he’s a good boy, he can come almost untouched.

Second, he loves the sight of his cum streaking across your body.

He was right to say he’ll enjoy this as much as you will.

“Yeah? Wanna come on my face?”

Another pathetic whine against your neck as he keeps curling his clothed cock against you. All of his weight settles between your hips as drives you to madness.

“Then go lock the door.”

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #🫡 highvern

261 notes · View notes

rusmii · 6 months

Note

Can I request a oneshot where Dazai has a dream ab reader ( fem iydm) and it’s rlly detailed ( the dream ) and everything feels real? And when he awoken she was sleeping beside him which did not help his situation.

๋࣭ ⭑dream surreal ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

osamu d. x fem!reader

╰ back to navi

syp: dazai can't help but overthink a fight that might never happen. but somehow learns how to respect you as a person even more now.

tw//: dazai centric(no literally y/n is nowhere to be seen during most of it), timeline jumps a bit(a lot at the end), arguments, it's implied that dazai is nonchalant asshole whenever an argument happens, hurt/comfort, learning experience, dazai accidentally tortures himself in his sleep, mentioned drug, im kinda too tired to tag everything but since its dazai yall know the drill, i'll leave the rest up to interpretation lmk if im missing any tags

♡: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONGGG but i rlly did not like how i wrote this.. did not go the way i wanted and i tried fixing it but didn't wanna postpone it anymore so i hope i didn't dogshit it😭🤕

wc: 6k

dazai hums to himself, skipping on the way home from work. today was your guys' 3rd anniversary, and the two of you had reserved dinner at the beachside in Yokohama. it wasn't expensive, but it didn't have to be with it having more sentiment value. it's where the two of you had your first date after all.

he fishes through his pockets to grab his keys, the tiny chinkle dangling in the air as he unlocks the door. as soon as he opened the door, he kicked off his shoes and ran into your shared bedroom, "belladonna!! are you excited for-"

"osamu." you said with venom laced in your tone. dazai stopped mid sentence, his arms now loose to the side as he stood by the entrance of the doorway. "hm?" he tilts his head, "what's the matter, bella?" dazai asks. he noticed an envelope in your hands, and pictures scattered across the bed you were standing in front of.

he could feel your glare boring holes into his soul. "don't bella me. the hell is all this?!" you nearly yell despite your close distance with each other. he looked at you with a confused face. what could have made you so mad that you were practically screaming in his face for... oh.

as dazai stepped closer to the bed he also saw the pictures more clearly.

it was pictures of him from his mafia days, along with pictures of his closest companions. ango, chuuya, mori, kouyou, the old man and oda. his breath is caught in his lungs as he stares at oda's picture. it had 'couldn't be saved' , 'RIP' , and other similar things written in a thick black marker.

there were also other multiple pictures that were taken of him murdering or torturing people from his teenage years. he bit the inside of his cheek, he remembered all those moments, the moments he couldn't take back or erase from his memory. everything was there. from the moment mori found him and brought him to his clinic, to chuuya and him meeting for the first time, and to when oda was dying in his arms.

everything was there, and he couldn't deny it. the evidence of who he really was- was shining through the roof, and he heard you opening the envelope you were hiding earlier.

he watched your movements like a hawk, watching as the contents of the envelope spilled onto the bed. there were very few bullets he used to kill his victims, the gun used; all dirty and worn down(he's pretty sure it's still broken), the drugs he's taken; the empty bottles lay around as the syringes with empty needles bounce off the bed, and lastly a paper.

you held it up, and his body went stiff as you read the contents. "dazai osamu's list of crimes. 1073 in total." dazai pursed his lips into a thin line. whoever was documenting everything couldn't get his crime count right. he committed more than 1073 crimes in total. but you didn't have to know that, did you? not when you were freaking out about his fraud.

he chuckles to himself, wait till you find out about his killings.

"what's so funny?" you squint your eyes. "nothing, but... wow.." he says, astonished as he picks up a photo of oda's orphaned children. just before they went boom. "whoever recorded every one of my moves did one hell of a job! we should invite them to our dinner date to applaud them, don't ya think [name]?" he laughs heartily.

if looks could kill, he'd for sure be near earth's core with how intense your glare was. "[name]?" he asks as you grab your phone and charger, going to the closest to grab the nearest jack you could find. "[name!]" this time, it was dazai whose voice had gone serious, "what are you doing??"

"what's it look like?" you spat back. he bit back the urge to tell you that you were overreacting and that he's a changed man, so he wouldn't ever act as he did back in the port mafia.

too bad this was dazai osamu. he didn't care about the consequences if he didn't have to think about it. you'd always come back running into his arms after a week anyway. "so what if I acted like a teenage dirtbag? I've changed, so shouldn't that matter now; and only now?"

you gawked at him like he just said something stupid, which he did. "did you just seriously say that?"

"what's the big deal?" he shrugs his shoulders, "what's done, been done."

"what's done, been done?" you repeat, "what's done, been done?!" you yell. "this- that's murder osamu! how could you just... act so nonchalant about it!?" you couldn't believe this was who your osamu really was. you'd always assume that he had a rough past, and you weren't wrong, but you got the story wrong.

"it is, but you get over it quickly. trust me on that."

you stare at him. how could you trust someone who's been lying to you the entire time you've been together? lived together? breathe the same air and become intimate with each other? your head was starting to turn from this boom of information. "It's the past. get over it." his voice now low and threatening. was this the same voice he used for his teenage dirtbag years?

"it doesn't involve you. it shouldn't and never involve you." dazai softens his voice once he realizes what kind of tone he is using. "ever," he clenched his fists, "so drop the topic."

your gaze never left the list of crimes that you let fall to the floor. you shook your head, acknowledging that this relationship wasn't going to work. not when this relationship was built on lies. "I'm sorry, dazai." you used his last name this time.

"so this is it?" dazai says, "we're ending things because I did stupid shit back then? is that it?" he presses the questions on you, but you ignore him as you slip your jacket on, opting to get your stuff later. "no dazai."

"then what?!" his voice was starting to become more frantic as soon as he realized that this might really be it. this wasn't like your usual arguments with each other. it always ends up with you crying and dashing out the door, leaving for a week, then coming back without him ever needing to apologize or talk about it.

"tell me!!" he stalks up to you and grabs your arm, but you shove him off you. "think about how I feel once in a while, you selfish jackass!!" you scream and stomped out of the apartment. dazai trailed after you until he stopped at the doorway of your guy's apartment.

"there's nothing to think about when you're a mindless, brainless worm who thinks they know what they're doing!"

you gasped at that. was that what he really thought of you? "oh! well, I'm sorry I'm too stupid for a genius like you!" you stopped midway in front of the door, "in fact, why don't you find a one night- bed to bed bitch who's willing to sit on her ass and half listen to your bitching for some cash!!"

and that was it. you walked away as he yelled at your back, not once trying to come after you. you'd return to him after a week of anger. he knows you will.

Day 1:

he marked the date mentally in his head. he always made sure to keep track of your fights. since today was the 1st day, he wasn't worried about it in the slightest bit. but he groaned. his head throbbed as he sat up on his bed, taking in the leisure sun.

it was about time to head into work, but he was already a minute late, so why rush?

he dipped his feet out of the bed, walking into the bathroom as he prepared to shower. the sound of the water running was heard as he stripped naked. once he checked that the water temperature was to his liking, he stepped inside and sighed, the water running down him, giving him a slight euphoric sensation.

for a moment or two, dazai was relishing in the water. his head was tilted back as he closed his eyes.

his mind whisked him back to the night before. the fight you two had was nothing like the others, where it'd usually formed from a petty squabble. this time, it came directly from an unknown source, and he'd like to know who recorded his timeline of events.

"come back! you don't know what the hell you're doing!!!"

he could hear himself screaming at your back. his voice loud and clear, but his bungled mind and rigid body said otherwise. he physically cringed inside the shower as he recalled every little thing he said to you.

"you need me! you can't leave me!!"

"[name], are you really going to leave me?! after you said you'd never leave!? damn hypocrite!!"

he cringed at that. of course, you'd never leave him. why would you? you love him after all! you'd never leave him! he didn't have to worry because you'd never leave him!

right?

he let out a long breath and banged his head on the wall. well shit. maybe he should really apologize this time.

"dazai-san!" he heard his subordinate call out to him, "hmmmmnn?? what is it atsushi-kun?~" dazai couldn't sleep a wink the past night, but despite all that, his cheerful self still remained for the day.

he was currently at the agency, sleeping his ass off as he watches the tanizaki siblings go at it

"um, a package has arrived for you." the young boy holds out a small box— just a plain brown box with his name on it. To Dazai, from.

he took a look at the box, and his eyes wandered down to where it was sent from. "who sent it?" he asks, taking the box from him and setting it down on his desk. by this point, almost everyone at the agency had stopped what they were doing to nose into this situation. even kunikida had stopped writing and looked over from his desk. "dazai, what is that?"

"why, a box, of course!" he laughs and ranpo sniggers from the side, "open it, you'll regret it if you don't."

dazai became intrigued at what the lollipop sucking boy said. it wasn't everyday ranpo would warn them of something so trivial. he cut open the box from a box cutter he asked from kunikida; him complaining about how dazai never is prepared for anything.

"yeah, yeah." dazai brushes his lecture off as he opens the box, "look! it's.. a note.?" now that got his attention. he stares at it for a bit as he holds it up, inspecting the strange note that was written on black paper, the ink in white.

an argument will ensue.

what the fuck? "dazai-san, what does that mean..?" Atsushi, who was already by his side, asked out loud, "I don't know.."

was it referring to yesterday? dazai felt as if his saliva was stuck in his throat. he bit his lip as he recalled the fight you two had last night. "dazai, what's wrong? is everything okay?" this time it was from kunikida, who looked a little worried from his lack of expression.

"yeah." he whispers below his breath, "yep!" his voice now as loud as it was when he barged into the office late, "everything is A-OK!!"

"are you sure?" yosano asks, not convinced. dazai winks at her as he gives her a thumbs out, tongue sticking out. she sighs, knowing that she isn't going to get an answer from him. "well, if it isn't bothering you, then it doesn't bother us."

kenji nods in agreement. "if anything happens, don't forget to tell us." kyouka follows up, dazai smiles, and soon everyone is back to working like normal.

well, dazai is sleeping as usual.

Day 2:

dazai has woken up to the sound of someone repeatedly knocking on his door. at first, he thought it was a door to door salesman and went back to sleep, hoping that they'd get the hint and go away. but when the knocking persisted and didn't stop, he groaned, getting up from bed.

he stares at the box sitting on his nightstand, the note still inside of it. he wondered if this mysterious ghost watched every single one of your guy's previous fights.

just as he was about to grab the box again, the knocking turned into banging. dazai jumped from the sudden change of pace and hissed at the cold, hitting him as he rolled out of bed. "coming, I'm coming!" he yells from the hall of the apartment.

the banging still didn't stop, and he started to think about every single curse word he spewed at the person as soon as he opened the door.

"what?!-"

but unfortunately he doesn't get to do so, because as soon as he opens the door he is met with nobody.

"-the hell??" he replaces and looks from right to left, checking to see if anybody ran off. he didn't notice anything off, but he saw a sign that read: look down, with an arrow pointing to the ground.

as dazai looked down, he saw another plain brown box on his doormat. one that you'd absolutely insisted that this lonely place needs. he crouched down to inspect it, making sure that it wasn't an enemy trap before picking it up and slamming his door shut with his foot.

the box was bigger, not as big but certainly not as small as the one from yesterday.

he placed the box down onto the kitchen island and walked around to find a knife. as soon as he found a small knife, he turned around to cut the tape down the middle.

the sound of the knife cutting through it; the flimsy flaps of the cardboard hovered up and down. he sets down the knife and pulls open the flaps, being met with another note and a few photos.

he picks up the note first, reading the contents.

she's upset. brush it off.

dazai threw the note to the side, not wanting to overanalyze so early in the morning. he then picks up the photos, there were two of them.

one of him and the other of you.

the photo of you was when you received a yellow envelope and the same plain brown box from the doorstep, and the other was a photo of him smiling as he held up a few things from his mafia days.

brush it off.

his eyebrows furrow as he remembered the last line of the note. "ughh!!" he groans, "it's too early for this!"

kunikida looked like he was about to burst a fuse, "dazai!" he called out to the brunette who was lazing around on the couches. "hm?" dazai looked up from where he was at, eyes going blank when he saw the red-faced kunikida stomping towards him. "get back to work!!" he yells down.

"eww!! kunikida-kun's spit particles are all over me now!!!" dazai waves his arms around, "i've been infected by the W-V!!!"

"huh?! W-V?!" kunikida spurts out, whipping out his notebook and grabbing a nearby pen, "tell me, what else do i have to look out for when identifying the symptoms?"

"hmm, let's see. since i've just gotten it, like- a second ago, the first symptom would be that you'll feel veeeeerrryyyy tired early in the mornings!!"

scribbling could be heard, "i see. what else?"

"next would be how stressed you'd get! i mean, seriously!!- kunikida, have you ever gotten yourself checked?!" dazai lets out an exasperated gasp. "oh my.. kunikida-kun...!"

"what!? what is it??"

dazai stays silent, his eyes widened, a feigned fearful expression on his face as kunikida dreads his answer. "you've been..."

"infected..!" dazai whispers the last part and kunikida's eyes blew wide open, "huh?!-"

"just kidding." dazai yawns and kunikida threw him across the room.

"what even was W-V, anyways dazai-san?" atsushi suddenly appears in his view, "hah.. atsushi is so swirly!! haha!!" he bursts out laughing, and atsushi just sighs.

"forget it, it's just another thing he made up." kunikida pushes his glasses back into place, "dazai, stop brushing things off. you'll regret it one day."

the said man stays silent, watching the blonde man walk back to his desk. whether atsushi noticed his silence or not, the white-haired boy sticks out his hand with a smile.

"i think kunikida-san is right. please don't brush the problem off."

Day 3:

"walk back safe!" atsushi waves to dazai, kyouka nodding her head, and dazai smiles at them; in acknowledgment of their words.

stepping out from the elevator, he couldn't help but think about how peaceful his day has been today.

and the words that kunikida and atsushi had said yesterday. don't brush it off. just like the note. he didn't know if it was just a coincidence or if it was related; dazai sighed as he walked past the florist shop that he used to always stop by when you used to work there. it held some great memories of his failed attempts at flirting and your coworkers hyping him up.

he looked at the 'closed' sign on the glass door: closed today! sorry for the inconvenience!:(

that's weird. usually, they were open every day. dazai glanced to his sides, stepping closer to the glass door after he made sure no one was there to witness it. he pressed his face against the glass, peering into the dark shop.

the flowers stuffed in bouquets, and potted plants scattered all around. there were rows of flowers and plants aligned on the aisles, a simple description of it under each of them. he scanned around for a few minutes before finally eyeing the flower he was looking for. the flower was your favorite flower.

he sucked in a breath as he remembered how happy you were when he gave you those flowers for your guy's third date. how surprised you were when he remembered what your favorite flower was. sure you had multiple, but there was this one flower you could name on the top of your head with ease.

it made him smile, knowing that you were happy. at that time, he didn't know that your happiness was his.

after staring for a couple minutes, dazai knew it was about time to head back, so he glanced one last time at the flower before turning on his heels and leaving for good.

a few twists and turns, and soon, dazai was back at the apartment. a shortcut! he'd like to call it. 'zai, that's stupid.' you'd laugh every time he found a new way to shorten the shortcut. 'whaaat?? it's my specialty!' he'd always reply back.

bickering would always ensue afterward, but just like all the other times, it was over within a week.

as dazai made his way down the hall of the apartment complex, he noticed someone turn down the hall and disappeared from plain sight. he didn't bother to chase after them, thinking it was another resident of the building.

he let out another groan. "of course, it'd show up at one point." he spat under his breath, speed walking closer to his door to pick up the plain brown box. as he was about to pick it up, he stopped his tracks. his mind immediately jumped back to the mysterious person who turned the corner. could it have been him?

he crouched down to the box's level, carefully picking it up to check it out. rotating the box, he shook it slightly, feeling the object inside moving.

'it's light.' he confirms. he looked back at the end of the hall where the mysterious person went to and got up with the box clutched in his arms. he stalks down the hall, his footsteps heavy as it echoed through the silent hall.

"shit." he says once he's reached the end, "what the fuck..?"

the wall that's staring back at him; mocks him. he turns around to find the same dead-end wall on the opposite end. the stairs down being elsewhere.

dazai bit his tongue, slowly backing away as he retreats back to his place. now, he knew he had problems with his head, but one thing for sure was that he did not hallucinate. and the note in front of him, stuck to his door, confirmed that all right.

don't run, face the problem. open the box. remember. happy, is she?

dazai ripped the taped paper from his door and unlocked it, almost ripping the door off its hinges. locking the door as soon as he got inside, dazai set the box down next to the other brown box on the kitchen island. he moved around it to grab a knife and walked back to stab it open.

he didn't particularly care about its contents anymore; having been fed up with the daily gifts his admirer gave him.

opening the box, he was met with a flower and another note.

he couldn't pay attention to the note. not when the flower was staring right up at him, a few petals already having been scattered around inside the box. the flower in question was your favorite flower. the stem was cut off, but the petals still retained their color. it must have been recently that the stem was cut off.

dazai slowly picked up the note. it was something he didn't expect: do you feel guilty yet?

he froze. so whoever this mysterious ghost was surely had to know about his situation. but the question was, how, though? was there a break-in? were there cameras around that he didn't know about?

that was impossible, dazai would've known if he was being watched. he was being thrown for a loop, not understanding the motive of this person. was it trying to get him to apologize? for which fight? he didn't know, but now he needed to figure it out.

as he walked to the bedroom, another note was plastered on the bedroom door.

the guilty verdict.

Day 4:

dazai had decided to take the rest of the week off. when asked why, he shrugged them off, only answering in shallow replies. they were worried, of course, but didn't want to push him. he was dazai after all; you don't question dazai.

but in actuality, dazai was focusing all his attention on his secret admirer.

he pins the notes to the corkboard, the pictures, and the flower next to their respective notes. colored yarn used as lines are a jumbled mess; crossing each other. everything was dated as well as the plain brown boxes sitting beneath the corkboard.

dazai also had a whiteboard, small but will make do.

he starts by writing down every encounter and event that could clue him closer to the culprit.

• 1st - note appears from the agency - small plain box - nothing inside • 2nd - note appears from his doormat - slightly larger than the box from 1st - 2 pics - repeated knocking • 3rd - note appears from doormat - mysterious suspect runs - dead-end - note on door - note on bedroom door - [name]'s favorite flower

that was all for now. it had been three days (four if you count today). he was anxious, awaiting the next arrival of the box. from early sunrise to the bright afternoon, there hadn't been a single commotion or hint of the next note.

dazai starts pacing back and forth in the room, his hair all shriveled and messy from the frustrated hands that ruffled through his hair.

it had been an hour after he had fallen asleep. he didn't know when or how, but he had the sense to wake up; his chest heavy as a weight sits atop him. he couldn't move, and by now, dazai could feel himself travel down memory lane.

the dark ceiling of his place; a place that he would have never considered calling home before he joined the mafia. he shivers in the cold, the lack of heating and insulation in general made him sweat like he had just gotten fighting with chuuya, and the chilly coldness of the crisp air hitting him like a storm on random nights during the monsoon season.

night after night, he would always never have enough sleep. the container being too dark for him to properly rest; the young teen is always on the lookout for nearby assassins. at some point during one of his usual sleepless nights, dazai felt a strange weight on top of him as he dozed off.

snapping himself awake, he was met with eyes that matched his, the shadow that loomed over him had no emotions, but his words spoke through dazai's core.

dazai's eyes became wide as he shot up from his spot, scrambling to sit upright as he narrowed his eyes up to the look-alike of him sitting right in front of him. "what— who..— you're me." he manages out, feeling the words clog inside his throat.

"i'm you!" the shadow happily announces, clapping its hands.

the shadow leers at dazai, the wide blood filled eyes looking right into his soul; through him as if he's reading him. "so?" dazai asks as he crosses his arms, "what did you come to tell me this time?"

the shadow titters for some time before inching closer; and closer; and closer; and closer.. until dazai can feel the cold air fanning him. "to tell you what to say whenever you're in the wrong-" it's finger poking at his chest; his heart, "-sorry."

he moves his finger up slowly, "that's all you have to say." the shadow whispers, the finger now pointing to the center of dazai's head, "or would you rather have her gone?"

"hah!" dazai guffaws, "do you really think-"

"were you thinking?"

dazai glares silently, his narrowed eyes flickering between the bed and anywhere else but him. "of course I was." he says, and it laughs, this time mockingly. "ah yes, of course you were thinking, totally thinking!!" — "shut up!" dazai screams, throwing his pillow at the shadow who disappears on impact. dazai breathed heavily as he closed his eyes, his head lolled to the side as he succumbed to slumber.

Day...

dazai sat alone on the chair, his meal getting cold as he waited for you. normally, you'd do the cooking, but this time around, he decided to do it.

it had been two weeks since you left; there was no need for a calendar if he marked every single date mentally anyway. dazai stabs the egg on his plate, the yolk oozing out of it. he had his phone charged and on at full volume at all times, waiting for a call or text, but he had received nothing.

it had been radio silent from you for the past two weeks, and it was killing him from the inside.

the silence had been deafening in his once cozy home. most of your stuff was here, but you still didn't make any indication of coming anywhere near the place. he also hadn't received any notes from his suspicious lurker.

he sighs, maybe another week?

Month...

dazai sat alone on the chair, his meal getting cold as he waited for you. normally, you'd do the cooking, but this time around, he decided to do it.

it had been a month and a half since you left; there was no need for a calendar if he marked every single date mentally anyway. dazai stabs the egg on his plate, the yolk oozing out of it. he had his phone charged and on at full volume at all times, waiting for a call or text, but he had received nothing.

it had been radio silent from you for the past month, and it was killing him from the inside.

he sighs, maybe another month?

Year...

it had been close to a year since you left; there was no need for a calendar if he marked every single date mentally anyway. dazai stabs the egg on his plate, the yolk oozing out of it. he had his phone charged and on at full volume at all times, waiting for a call or text, but he had received nothing.

it had been radio silent from you for the past few months, and it was killing him from the inside.

he sighs, maybe another?

Years

dazai stares at his shaken self.

"what— who..— you're me." he manages out, feeling the words clog in his throat.

“i'm you!" dazai happily announces, clapping his hands.

dazai leers at him, his wide blood filled eyes looking right into his soul; through him as if he's reading him. "so?" he asks as he crosses his arms, "what did you come to tell me this time?"

dazai titters for some time before inching closer; and closer; and closer; and closer.. until he can feel the cold air fanning him. "to tell you what to say whenever you're in the wrong-" his finger poking at his chest; his heart, "-sorry."

he moves his finger up slowly, "that's all you have to say." dazai whispers, the finger now pointing to the center of his head, "or would you rather have her gone?"

"hah!" he guffaws, "do you really think-"

"were you thinking?"

he glares silently, his narrowed eyes flickering between the bed and anywhere else but him. "of course I was." he says, and dazai laughs, this time mockingly. "ah yes, of course you were thinking, totally thinking!!" — "shut up!" he screams, throwing his pillow at dazai who disappears on impact. he breathed heavily as he closed his eyes, his head fell to the side as he succumbed to slumber.

#765#567#

dazai opened his eyes, "[name]?" he asked in confusion, your figure in the tv that was in front of him. dazai found himself restricted and unable to move around, his arms and legs locked in place as the chair rocked with every movement.

he makes an annoyed sound, looking around for ways to escape, but there was nothing. dazai didn't know what kind of room this was. it was a solid plain black room filled with the void. it seemed as if he and the tv were floating in mid-air.

just then, the tv started flickering on and off, the screen glitching as the background played.

you were lazing around the house, propped on the couch, as you were mindlessly scrolling through your phone. for a minute or two, all the footage was just you laying on the couch. suddenly, the doorbell rang, and you immediately looked up with a scrunched up face. you weren't expecting any visitors this late into the night, so you assumed it was probably another door to door salesman. it wasn't until the knock came for a second time, then a third and so forth until you couldn't ignore it anymore. you got up to go confront whoever was annoying you this late at night.

suddenly, the tv was switched to a different channel. dazai could barely make out the two voices talking, the footage showing you and a shadowy person next to you. it was holding a yellow envelope, he didn't know what it was telling you but you seemed to be in disbelief as you were handed a light box filled with unknown contents.

another click, and the channel switched again. this time, it was back to where the other channel left off. you opened the door and were greeted with no one. looking around, you stepped out of the apartment a bit to scan the hall. much to your dismay, there was no one, and you had just been ding dong ditched. or at least that's what you thought before glancing down and noticed a plain brown box with a yellow envelope on it.

dazai screams from where he was, telling you not to pick it up yet. it was pointless, of course.

the channel is turned again, and it's an entirely new scenario. his yelling had stopped at that point, but it didn't ease his anxiousness. what was it going to play next? he could probably guess, but he wouldn't, wanting to witness it for himself.

he braces himself for whatever is going to play, finally feeling self-aware of everything all of a sudden. he could feel the cold, humid atmosphere surrounding him. the background noise of the tv; static.

he flicks his eyes everywhere, never leaving his sight on one thing.

dazai lets out a surprised sound when his eyes meet yours. your face in full view on the tv, the glitch having suddenly fixed itself as well as the static noise. it felt eerie as your teary face stared back at him.

"[name]?.." dazai calls out to you, "yes?" his eyes grew big, not expecting you to respond back to him.

dazai didn't know if he should keep talking or if he was starting to go crazy. "[name]?" he asks again, not believing that you were talking with him through the screen. you wipe your eyes, "what is it?"

"what's wrong, osamu?" this time, it was you asking the question. he stayed silent. "osamu?" you ask again, tilting your head as you leaned closer, your face zooming in on the screen, "hey, what's wrong? why do you look like that?"

when he didn't answer again, you lifted a hand and placed it somewhere. he didn't know where it was since it was out of frame, but he could feel the slight warmth of your touch on his hands. it was a weird feeling since both of his hands were still restrained. "osamu."

you kept calling out, "osamu-" — "i'm sorry."

it came out as a surprise for the two of you. your eyes were as wide as his, not expecting him to apologize out of the blue. "i'm sorry," he says again.

he could feel the other touch of your hand being placed onto his. "i'm sorry." this time, it was louder, his voice echoed throughout the void. your warm touch rubbing circles on his palms and the back of his hands. "i'm sorry." a broken sob left him, "im sorry; im sorry."

dazai didn't know what came over him. for some reason, he found himself unable to stop repeating his apology. it was so half assed, he could barely voice it out, and when he does, it comes out as a sob. he's sure that you could barely hear it, his voice being just above a mumble. "im- i don't know how to, i'm sorry." his head was hung low, tears dropping onto his lap; his arms and pants getting wet. he couldn't face you, not when he was snot ridden.

"you do know, and i'm proud of you." he could feel your faint lips on his forehead, a hand moving some of his bangs to the side. "don't cry samu', you're okay. you can do it, we can do it."

"what are we doing?" he sniffles.

"fixing our trust in each other."

dazai brought his head up, and your soothing voice matched the small smile you were giving him. your eyes so full of emotion and.. vulnerability. he felt shivers run down his spine, the eye contact you guys were making made him feel open. too open for his liking.

he wanted to turn away, shut down, and run away again. there was no fight, no argument, no running away if there was no problem, right? each turned down fight proved his logic to be true, the two of you always returning back to your usual routines as if the fight never happened a week ago. it was the perfect formula, a set one that the two of you established over the next few fights.

it was unfortunate that dazai would always reject your input and feelings; refusing to communicate with you because of his logic.

he didn't know what to say, all working gears in his brain stopped turning. everything was stuck, and he sat there, confused. "how?" he croaks out.

he could see your smile getting longer, the hope in your eyes brightening. "let's talk," both of your hands clamped around his, "together?"

it came out as a question, but it sounded happier.

"you're not mad?" he asked. "no, why would i be?" your soft expression remained. "because..." dazai faded off. he thought he would have known the answer to you confidently, but his genius self falters for a bit. "because.. you'll leave me anyway.."

"will always leave me, slamming the door in my face. leaving me like how everyone i tried opening up to left, died even."

by the time he's done with his rant, he's out of breath. he said it pretty fast, but you weren't his partner for no reason.

"guess even prodigies like you can be dumb as fuck sometimes." you deadpan. now that appalled dazai, "huh? what does that mean!" he felt insulted but at the same time he couldn't help but feel as if you were right.

you laugh to yourself, "osamu," you laugh, "is that what you think that i think?"

he was even more confused. why were you laughing?? this was a very serious matter, and you're just... making fun of him. "yes..? it's what everyone thinks of when they're with me."

"don't laugh!!!" he barks from the chair, "sorry! sorry!" you wipe the corners of your eyes. "what?" he pouts when he notices your distant stare.

"let's take a step back, 'kay?" you say, and suddenly the warmth of your hands disappears from his. take a step back? "don't think about it from what you've experienced. think about it from my perspective." he listens intently, taking in what you said.

"so.. you're not going to be mad at me?"

your lips curl a bit, "never. you don't have to tell me every single detail of your life, but i at least deserve the right to see you as vulnerable in front of me as i am to you."

he nods his head, finally starting to understand why you never came back after a week this time. the repressed feelings he forced you to hold back had exploded under its pressure, unable to pile anymore stress onto it. "i promise to do better for you, [name]- be better. i promise."

you gave him a teary-eyed smile, holding up your pinky, "promise?" dazai couldn't move due to his restraints but still held out a pinky nevertheless, "promise," he was looking at you so tenderly, "i promise."

the tv is turned off, and a time is displayed on it. he could hear beeping coming from somewhere. before he could try to identify where the sound was coming from and what was happening, dazai felt his slightly dried up tears roll down his cheek as he cracked his eyes open.

the beeping sound was coming from his right, and when he turned to over, he saw it was an alarm clock going off at the time you set for him to get up for work.

"what?.." he groans, wiping his wet eyes as he scans the room. it was still dark out, and the beeping kept going. "shut up." he hisses as he slammed his hand down on the alarm clock. he sighs, reaching over to your side of the bed. he knew that it was going to be another hopeless day of waiting for any calls and messages from you.

he attempted to grab more of the blanket and a pillow from your side but was met with something; someone already there. dazai jumps back surprised, not expecting anybody to be sleeping there. since it was still dark out, he couldn't really make out the shadowy person on his bed.

"hn.. dazai?" you groan, feeling him poke at your side. when you got no answer, you turned around in concern to see an upright dazai staring down at you in shock. "dazai?" you question him, slowly sitting up.

"you- you're back.."

you stare at him in confusion, "uh- i've been here?" he stares back. you could see the glisten in his eyes despite it being dark out. "dazai?" — "i'm sorry." he cries out all of a sudden.

you were being tackled onto your back, "what- dazai?! what's wrong??" you caught yourself before you fell off the bed, quickly wrapping your arms around him as you massaged his head.

"dazai! answer me!" you say, trying to push him off of you to no avail, "dazai!-" — "please don't leave." his voice was barely above a whisper, "just- stay. please. i'll talk to you.. when i'm ready."

you could tell he was in hysterics. you didn't know the reason why or how he came to be, but you laid there, giving his back and head gentle massages. "okay, i'll be right here with you then. you gave him a gentle kiss on his head, holding him in your embrace.

°° ©churuai ; don't repost my works to other sites, copy/plagiarize my works, or translate my works into a different language without my permission. if you intend to use most of my ideas from a post of mine, please don't forget to credit ♡

rbs and comments appreciated <3<3

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #dazai #bsd dazai #idk what else to put #this oneshot was so bad im sorry anon forgive me😭🙏#[⋆⋆⋆] — runi's works ♡#[☆] — anon

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