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bradshawsbaby · 2 years ago

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Always By Your Side

Pairing: Rooster x Wife!Reader

Author’s Note: I’ve been meaning to write this one for a while! I wrote I’m Here about Rooster comforting his wife after she has a nightmare, so this is a counterpart of Mrs. Bradshaw comforting Bradley when he has a nightmare.

Warnings: Nightmare, mentions of death and a near-death experience, angst/comfort, and warm fluff.

Bradley had a habit of being a bit of a restless sleeper, so it never came as quite a surprise to you when he shifted, nudged, and even kicked in the middle of the night. You’d become quite adept at sleeping peacefully beside your husband, even on his most fidgety nights. The one time you’d woken up in the morning with a bruise on your thigh, evidently garnered from an ill-placed kick, you’d laughed it off, impressed that you had no recollection of it even happening. Bradley, however, had felt so guilty about it that he’d smothered the bruise in kisses every night until it finally faded away to nothingness.

At this point in your relationship, your husband’s fitfulness wasn’t enough to wake you up out of a dead sleep. But his soft whimpers were.

“No, no, please.”

You could hear Bradley’s voice close to your ear, though a second later, his arm slipped from around your waist as he unconsciously shifted in bed, rolling away from you.

“Oh, God, please, no,” he mumbled, his voice sounding terrified and grief-stricken all at once.

You were wide awake now. Sitting up in bed, you carefully turned on the lamp on your nightstand, a soft glow chasing the shadows on the walls of your darkened bedroom into the corners of the room. Brushing your hair out of your face, you looked down at your husband and were instantly grieved at the sight before you.

He was having a nightmare.

You’d seen enough of Bradley’s nightmares to know what they looked like. He was rolling back and forth in bed, the blankets getting tangled around his legs as he panted softly under his breath. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted slightly. You knew if you checked his pulse, it would be beating erratically. He was obviously deep in the throes of whatever bad dream was plaguing him, because his face was screwed up in misery, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw occasionally clenching and unclenching.

Biting your lip, you mentally debated what to do. Sometimes Bradley shook himself out of these nightmares, waking with a start and shooting up in bed. He’d usually apologize to you in those instances, ashamed to be seen in such a wholly vulnerable state. You always reminded him that he had nothing to be sorry for, but you knew he still hated it. Other times, when the sound of his torment became too much for your heart to bear, you woke him up, helping him to overcome his disorientation and reminding him of where he was.

Looking at him now, you weren’t sure which was the best course of action.

“No, no, no!” Bradley moaned, sounding near tears.

That was it. You couldn’t let him suffer for another minute.

“Bradley,” you whispered in a soothing voice, reaching out and gently shaking his shoulder. “Bradley, baby, it’s me. Wake up, honey. You’re having a nightmare. Wake up,” you coaxed, shaking a little bit harder when it seemed your initial touch wasn’t enough. It was always a careful balance. You wanted to get him up without startling him or unnerving him further.

Bradley froze momentarily, but still didn’t wake up. After a tense moment of complete silence, he went back to mumbling incoherently, still looking deeply distressed.

“Bradley, wake up,” you said, a little bit louder this time. You reached over and grabbed his other shoulder, shaking both of them now.

“Wait! Don’t! No!” Bradley gasped, his eyes suddenly flying open as he sat up abruptly, nearly bumping his head against yours in the process. “What? Where?” he panted in confusion, looking around the room for a minute. It seemed to take a few seconds for his brain to process that he was safe, that he was in your bedroom, sitting beside you.

“Oh, baby,” you murmured tenderly, rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back with a firm hand. “Baby, you’re okay. I’m right here. You’re safe. We’re home.” You’d found that whenever Bradley woke from one of these nightmares, it always helped when you grounded him in reality, reminding him where he was, that he was alright and that you were right there with him.

Releasing a ragged breath and running a shaky hand through his hair, Bradley turned to look at you, not saying anything at first. He just took you into his arms, holding on as if for dear life and burying his face in your neck. After a minute or two of silently breathing in the scent of your skin, his shoulders slowly started to relax, the tension filtering out of his body bit by bit.

“I’m here. I’m right here,” you assured him softly, pressing loving kisses to his temple and rubbing his back in slow strokes.

When he finally pulled back slightly, his arms still wrapped firmly around your waist, he looked calmer, but still troubled from whatever nightmare had been disturbing his sleep.

“Tell me what happened,” you encouraged him, reaching up to lightly caress his cheek. He didn’t always like to talk about his bad dreams, but he’d admitted in the past that it always made him feel better when he did.

“It was the mission. The one they called me back to TOPGUN for. The one with Mav and the others,” he began slowly, his voice a bit raspy from tiredness and the strain of his nightmare.

His nightmares were often related to that mission, the one he’d been sent on before the two of you had met. Since you were a civilian and it was a classified military operation, there was only so much you knew about it, but Bradley had revealed enough over time. You knew he’d nearly died. Him and Mav both. It still sent a chill down your spine to think about it.

“I can’t even imagine, honey,” you whispered, stroking his hair with gentle fingers. “What you went through—what almost happened. I would have nightmares, too.”

“If I had let them convince me to return to the carrier. If I had gotten there just a second later. He would have...he would have—” Bradley shook his head, unable to even complete his thought.

“I know. I know,” you nodded, holding him closer. You didn’t need him to elaborate. You knew he was talking about Maverick. Though you didn’t know all the details of what had happened, you knew that both Mav and Bradley had saved each other’s lives that day, and that there had been more than one close call during that mission.

Bradley shook his head again, resting his forehead against your shoulder. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the beat of it reverberating against your skin. The nightmare must have been really bad this time. He was still deeply unnerved, still trembling slightly.

“I’m going to show you something,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead when he lifted his head to look at you. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” you added, pushing the covers back to slip out of bed. You hurried to the living room of your apartment, then raced back a moment later, crawling back into bed with a framed photograph in your hand.

“See this? Remember this?” you asked, your voice soothing and comforting. “You and Mav both made it home that day. You’re both safe. You’re both alive. You’re here, baby,” you told him, pressing the photograph into his hand.

Bradley stared down at it, the smallest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was the picture someone had snapped on the carrier right after he and Mav had landed safely. They were laughing and holding onto one another, celebrating the amazing fortune of being alive. You knew for a fact that Mav had a copy of the picture as well, and that he kept it tucked safely right beside a photograph of him and Bradley’s father.

“Okay, baby?” you murmured, massaging the nape of his neck. You rested your other hand over his where it was clutching onto the frame.

Bradley nodded slowly, but there were tears burning the backs of his eyes and his throat was convulsing as he swallowed several times. You could tell there was something else weighing on him.

“Honey, what is it?” you asked, your heart breaking for him. You loved him so much and you hated to see him in any kind of pain. You gently took the picture out of his hands and laid it on your nightstand, shifting so that you could wrap your arms around him once more. “Talk to me, baby.”

“It’s nothing,” Bradley sighed, shaking his head and working very hard to get control of his emotions. “It’s just—sometimes, when I dream about the mission, it kind of…changes. Things shift.” He bit down hard on his lower lip, taking your hand in his and squeezing.

“What do you mean?” you questioned carefully, not wanting to push him. Whatever it was, it obviously caused him a great deal of pain.

“It stops being the mission,” Bradley explained quietly after a moment’s pause. “I’m not there anymore. But I am, you know? Except that doesn’t make any sense because I wasn’t there. I was too young. I—”

“Bradley, honey, you weren’t where?” you asked, trying to make sense of what he was struggling to tell you. “You were too young for what?”

“To be there the day my dad died,” Bradley told you, his voice heavy as his head dropped.

You felt chills all over your body at his admission.

“Somehow it stops being me in the jet with Mav. It’s my dad instead, and I want so badly to save him and I’m trying to save him and I can’t save him.” Bradley’s voice was becoming more frenzied now, more panicked. “I can’t save him. Why can’t I save him?”

“Oh, honey,” you cried softly, tears pricking your own eyes at your husband’s words. What a horribly heavy burden to have to carry, even in your dreams. “Oh, honey,” you said again, taking him into your arms and holding him tightly.

“Why can’t I save him?” Bradley cried, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his tears soaking your skin and the front of your shirt.

“Baby,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. “You were just a little boy. You were only two years old, honey. You couldn’t—you couldn’t have saved him.”

Bradley shuddered slightly at your words, still clinging to you desperately.

“Your dad—even though I never got to meet him, baby, I feel like I know him through you. Through you and Mav. And I know he wouldn’t want you to ever feel like it was your responsibility to save him. Not even in your dreams. He wouldn’t,” you insisted, brushing the tears from your husband’s cheeks when he lifted his head from your shoulder. “He loved you too much for that. He still loves you. He’s still watching over you, baby. And you know what? He was in that jet that day. He was. He was with you and Mav. He was protecting you. He saved you. He’s always by your side, honey. Always.”

Bradley was quiet for a few minutes, resting in your arms as you tenderly caressed his face and back. Without a word, he lifted your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it, his lips lingering for a moment. You could feel that his cheek was still wet.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered, his voice a little hoarse from the unshed tears still clogging his throat. He looked at you, his eyes brimming with love despite the grief and the pain that were also flashing in those brown depths. “I think I’m going to sit up for a little while. You go back to sleep. It’s late,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“If you’re up, I’m up,” you told him firmly, slipping your hand into his and lacing your fingers together.

Bradley smiled a little bit at that, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Stubborn as always, that’s my girl,” he murmured, kissing you softly.

“Yes, it is,” you smiled back, brushing your fingers across his scarred cheek. “Do you want me to make you something? A cup of tea? Something to eat?” Even though it was late, you knew he sometimes liked to indulge in some late-night snacks.

“I think I just want to sit in the bath for a little bit,” Bradley told you, rubbing your thigh gently. The two of you both found that to be a relaxing way to unwind when you were feeling stressed or unsettled.

“Okay,” you nodded, pecking him on the lips. “I’ll go run the water for you.”

“You don’t have to, baby, really. It’s late. You should get some rest,” Bradley insisted, patting your pillow.

“I’ll sleep in tomorrow,” you teased, climbing out of bed and walking off to the bathroom. You ran the water nice and hot, the way Bradley liked it, the bathroom soon steaming up. You then dropped a couple of your lavender bath salts into the water, figuring that might help him get back to sleep.

“You spoil me too much,” Bradley smiled when he walked into the bathroom a moment later, pulling you towards him so that he could kiss you deeply before he pulled back and stripped off the T-shirt and sweatpants he’d been wearing to bed. He lowered himself into the water with a satisfied sigh, his head falling back as the tension oozed out of his shoulders. Seconds later, he reached out to grab your hand, his fingers closing gently around yours. “You’ll stay, right?”

“Oh, don’t want me to go back to sleep now?” you teased affectionately, a playful twinkle in your eye. Lifting his hand up to your lips, you kissed his calloused knuckles and nodded. “Of course I’ll stay.” Sitting down on the ledge of the bathtub, you rested your hands on his shoulders and slowly began to massage his upper back.

Bradley let out a sigh of approval, his eyes closing as your thumbs kneaded the knots in his back. It was moments like these that reminded you of the fact that though your husband was playful and tender and loving with you, he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders in so many ways. He shouldered so many burdens, even burdens that weren’t his to carry. And that took its toll, both physically and mentally.

Running your hands over his shoulders and down his chest, you leaned forward and rested your cheek against his, your lips pressed close to his ear. “You carry too much, baby. You have to let me carry some of it, too,” you whispered.

Bradley didn’t ask what you meant. He didn’t need to. He just reached up and laced his fingers through yours, resting his head back against your shoulder. “What did I ever do to deserve you, huh?” he asked, his voice thick with tenderness.

“You didn't have to do anything,” you replied, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I don’t know anyone more deserving of love than you, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Bradley lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your palm. “You know what you said before, baby? About my dad always being by my side?”

“Mhm,” you murmured softly, tracing tiny circles on his chest. “Your mom, too.”

“I know they are,” Bradley nodded, turning his head so that he was gazing up at you. “I know they are because they sent me you. They sent me you to be by my side forever,” he said, his eyes filled with an adoration that warmed you to your very core.

“Forever,” you nodded, tears glistening in your eyes as you lowered your head to kiss him.

His parents would always be with him. And so would you.

#mr. & mrs. bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #mrs. bradshaw #rooster x wife!reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller #x reader #x female reader

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yoonpobs · 4 years ago

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bad boy good thing | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 3, 451

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re so pretty like this,” Jungkook whispers against your cheek but it’s nothing like sweet nothings that would comfort you.

No. It’s dirty, it’s relentless when he hooks his fingers upwards against your spongey walls while his other hand clamps on your mouth to keep your gasps at bay. There’s nothing that you can do when he has your pleasure quite literally in the palm of his hands.

“Mmph.” You groan, hips bucking upwards despite your mind telling you that this was wrong, that you weren’t like this.

But Jungkook had a way of clouding your conscience and leading you to unmapped territories when he looks at you with his doe-eyes that looked nothing like innocence but more like trouble.

Jungkook’s absolutely brutal when he finger fucks your pussy until it's squelching within the bathroom walls, nearly overpowering the music from outside. You’re pathetically whining and moaning under him, back stained with sweat while he presses you against the sink. When he looks at you, it’s almost worth it.

Almost.

“This fucking pussy gets wet only for me, yeah?” He growls, eyes barring anomalistically when he releases his other hand from your mouth to grip your chin to look at him.

You can’t control the moan that you let out when he drags his fingertips across the spongey surface of your cunt, your hole fluttering around his long digits that hypnotised you every single time.

“J-Jungkook—” You gasp when he presses his thumb against your clit, your wetness lubricating the movement until your legs shudder around his hips while his eyes zero onto your pussy.

The way he revs up his spit at the back of his throat should’ve been disgusting and you should’ve run for the hills, but Jungkook had a way of making everything you were taught to avoid look appetising because a dollop of his slaver drops directly onto your clit and you feel your stomach clench.

“Fuck. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?” He hisses, “Acting so prim and proper on the outside but you just wanna get fucked like a dirty little secret, huh?”

You shake your head when he pounds harder into you that your body is hiking up the sink with the force he’s exerting into shoving his fingers into your pussy. Tears of ecstasy or shame—you don’t know—but they’re accumulating at the edge of your eyes and threatening release, just like your orgasm that’s impending.

“You’re a liar.” He spits at you and it’s not as malicious as it should be because he’s smirking, a grin so menacing but addictive that you can’t help your dazed eyes that fall onto his face.

Your hand is gripping his shoulder while the other holds onto the sink because your pussy is spasming around his fingers and your wetness is everywhere. It’s on his jeans, fingers, and the remnants of your juice taint his lips—and you feel your stomach clench harder while your mind grows fuzzier.

“N-Not lying.” You whimper.

Jungkook scoffs like he doesn’t believe you, “You’re a liar. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you? What’s everyone going to think if they see you fucked out with just my fingers?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he leans down in one sudden motion that you can’t even catch up with and envelopes your throbbing bud into his mouth and sucks. Sucks so hard that you scream and you’re sure the partygoers know exactly what’s going on in the bathroom.

“Jungkook!” You scream, clutching his hair.

He chuckles darkly against your pussy but doesn’t relent his actions. The dark locks between your thighs make everything much harder to focus on, but all you can feel and see in Jungkook.

“N-No—I c-can’t—fuck!—” You’re not pushing him away but your hips are unconsciously grinding against his mouth when he finger fucks your pussy all while giving you the beautiful stimulation from his hot mouth.

“You’re going to cum for me and drench my face, yeah?” He mumbles into your pussy but it’s nothing short of demanding, “Gonna eat your fucking pussy clean.”

You’re so close, so so close and Jungkook feels it. He’s generous today, hooking his fingers deeper, and harder until—

“Fuck!” You scream.

Jungkook smirks against your pussy, knowing he’s found it. And Jungkook is someone who doesn’t stop when he knows he’s doing well, he just goes harder. That’s exactly what he does that pushes you over the edge.

He hooks his fingers until you’re nearly lifted off the sink, but his hand presses against your stomach to keep you still, prolonging the intense feeling of pleasure mixed with pain.

“J-Jungkook—f-fuck, I—can’t—p-please—I’m c-cumming—” You’re a blubbering mess and you’re outwardly crying, and Jungkook loves the tears that stream down your face as a result of his hard work on your pussy.

“Cum for me pretty.” He rubs your clit vigorously as he pulls away just to see you unravel.

And you do, so intensely and captivatingly that Jungkook nearly cums himself on the spot. But you were a sight to behold when your face contorts in pleasure, pussy clenching uncontrollably while you spurt the evidence of your orgasm all over the sink and onto Jungkook’s clothes.

Your orgasm is all too long and too short, but it’s good. It sends you away to a spiral of acute gratification that doesn’t disappoint. You barely make out Jungkook’s darkened but pleased expression when your body shudders from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

When you come down, and you blink your eyes to come back to the world—the first thing you see is Jungkook’s stained shirt like he spilled water on it but it was just the proof of your arousal and his effort.

Jungkook tugs you close to make sure you see the way he sticks his three fingers into his mouth, smirking at your wide eyes.

“Good girls taste the best.” He hums.

You blush despite the fact he’s seen the worst and best parts of you, hiding away from his keen gaze when he leans down to chase your lips.

“The p-party.” You mumble.

Jungkook scoffs with a wicked grin on his face, “Bet everyone heard how loud you get for me.”

You grimace at the thought of walking out there, where your friends and peers are after the session Jungkook put you through with the redness on your cheeks that could only allude to one thing.

And what you did with Jungkook comes crashing down onto you all at once, even if your stomach still flutters at the pleasure he’s given you. You weren’t like this. You didn’t follow men into bathrooms and let them stick their fingers into your pussy just so you could chase your high. You didn’t let men like Jungkook touch you the way he did when he squeezed your cheeks to look at him.

You broke all of the rules you made for yourself, compartmentalised in your brain—and you can only blame—

“Jungkook.” You say softly, eyes looking up to him and you’re sure he sees your dried tears, “This has to stop.”

For the second time of the night, Jungkook looks like he doesn’t believe you. And that’s probably because you don’t even believe yourself.

Jungkook smirks, “You say that every time it’s over but you’re the one looking for me when I’m gone.”

“I don’t look for you.” You frown.

He scoffs.

“You don’t? Then why would the esteemed _____ who sets the fucking curve all the damn time turn up at a house party where she doesn’t belong?”

You purse your lips and look away. You both knew that parties were not your thing and definitely not one where a bunch of drunk college students was involved.

“You know the only reason I’m here tonight is because of Jimin and Tae.” You snap.

He rolls his eyes before caging you into the sink, and you realise that your skirt is still lifted up—wetness sticking your thighs together in an uncomfortable way that makes you wince.

“And where are they now?” He sneers, looking at you in a mocking manner.

You clench your fists by your side and try to look brave in front of Jungkook. There was no reason why he had this effect on you when you were older than him when he used to worship the ground you walked on when you were children. Now that the tables were turned you had no clue how to navigate it.

“They’re—they’re …” You appeal helplessly, “Does it matter?”

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek in a way that you noted came from a childhood habit turned attractive, and you hate yourself even more for feeling your heart flutter.

“That’s what I thought.” Jungkook snorts.

He pushes himself off the sink and away from you, and you unconsciously find yourself chasing him. Jungkook notices this but chooses to just smirk at you. You try to glare at him and convince both of you that you didn’t want him, that you wouldn’t come back.

But when Jungkook cups your jaw with his right hand and brings his lips to yours before he leaves, you know that choice was never yours, to begin with.

Sana approaches you out of the blue after one of your lectures and you know something is up when her eyebrows are raised.

“Hey, ____!”

You turn around, nearly slamming into her when she steadies herself, eyes inquisitive with a knowing smile that you don’t like.

Sana was one of those people in college that you were friends with purely for convenience. She was in a few of your lectures and somehow always ended up in your group during projects; so it was strategic for you to maintain an amicable relationship with her.

You thought you could see yourself being good friends with her, but she was far too extroverted and involved in campus affairs. Not that was a bad thing—but it was bad for your social ineptness and lack of engagement in social settings. And the fact that wherever she went, gossip seemed to follow.

“Sana.” You greet with a small smile.

She nudges your shoulders before the two of you fall into similar steps as you make your way out of the lecture hall.

“How have you been?” You know it’s small talk and that she’s easing you in, which only settles the anxiety further at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ve been busy.” You shrug, “Mid-terms are around the corner.”

She snorts, “By corner you mean two months down the road and you’re just being an overachiever?”

You blush at being called out and you know she meant no ill-intent. She laughs at your reaction while you offer her a sheepish smile in return.

“It’s always good to be prepared.”

She nods her head as the two of you approach the outdoor student lounge where a few other college kids were either dozing off or typing away on their laptops for last-minute assignments.

“So I heard …” Sana trails off and you sigh knowingly, already somewhat prepared.

“You heard …?” You parrot.

“You and Jeon are close, right?”

You stop in your tracks when you hear his name, as you feel her stop right behind you while you tuck your laptop to your chest.

“J-Jeon?”

Sana nods when you turn around to face her. You hope she isn’t as observant as you think she is because your face is undoubtedly red right now.

“Yeah. Jungkook.” She reaffirms.

“We’re … we grew up together.” You tell her, “With Jimin and Taehyung.”

You made sure to include your other two friends because you didn’t like where the conversation was going, and you needed to ensure there was some form of distance established between you and Jungkook, not wanting to further entangle yourself with him than you already are.

She raises an eyebrow, “So you’re close?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“I guess you could say that. We went to the same high school so it was natural for our paths to cross.”

Sana nods her head slowly as if processing the information.

“Why—”

“But you’re older than him, right?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

You blink at her, then you nod. Redness on your cheeks already appearing.

“Yeah. B-But … I mean by only two years. It’s not like that’s a lot.” You say defensively.

You weren’t sure why you felt the need to clarify that because there was no reason why Sana needed to know that you were just two years older than Jungkook. It was the type of information that was unnecessary and redundant given that she clearly pointed out the fact you were older.

Sana hums before looking at you with knowing eyes, but you try to pretend like you don’t see it.

“And you’ve never fooled around before?”

Her question makes you choke and causes heat to rapidly rush to your cheeks.

“What?” You cry, “Of course not!”

Sana looks at you dryly before schooling herself with a neutral smile.

“None at all?” She pries, “But he’s so hot?”

You roll your eyes, already wanting to leave the conversation, knowing it wasn’t the wisest decision to have allowed it to prolong this far after Jungkook’s name was brought up.

“He’s like a litter brother to me.” You snap.

You hate that you know you’re lying through your teeth because you would have not let a little brother do the things Jungkook has done to you.

Sana nods, sides of her lips twitching upwards at your answer.

You sigh, “What is this about?”

She waves you off.

“Just wanted to know if he was single.”

You raise an eyebrow, heart nearly stopping at the insinuation.

“Okay …?”

Sana smiles up at you like she wasn’t interrogating you on your apparent relationship with Jungkook, a young boy turned bad with the realism of college-hood and social interactions that you can’t even compare him to the boy you knew from high school; all awkward and limbs.

“My friend’s asking. You know Jennie?”

You almost turn pale. Because of course, you know Jennie because she’s beautiful, popular, outgoing and everything that you weren’t; and everything Jungkook should’ve liked—and you were sure he did.

“Y-Yeah.” You stutter.

“She always thought you two were together so she never made her move. At least I can tell her that isn’t the case.” Sana chirps.

“Y-Yeah … you can.” You mumble, eyes looking away and the only thing plaguing your mind is the visual of Jennie and Jungkook together.

“But I always did try to tell her that she was in her head about the two of you.” Sana laughs.

You turn around, and your heart knows you should keep your mouth shut but you were always too curious for your own good.

“Oh?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Sana shrugs, “I mean. You’re top of the class, Ms. Student President and always put together. And not to say Jungkook isn’t but … he’s not exactly like you, you know?”

You know that. Because every time you look at old pictures of you and Jungkook you already felt the disparity, the clear-cut chase that he was at the top of the food chain while you were always left with the leftovers. You weren’t the type of girl that hung around Jungkook’s circle and he wasn’t the type of person you would hang out with.

The two of you weren’t young anymore and Jimin and Taehyung weren’t able to be that bridge between the both of you either. You and Jungkook were so drastically different and it scared you because you remember a time where you thought he was the endgame.

“I guess you’re right.” You say softly.

“Anyways. Sorry for bothering you!” Sana smiles before tugging her bag over her shoulder and offering you a small wave before she darts off in the other direction.

You’re left standing in the middle of the lounge with a heavier sense of dread on your shoulders, and the image of Jennie in your mind. She’s pretty. And you bet she’s nice too, but fun enough for Jungkook to want. Nothing like you.

But you shake your head off with the thoughts. You didn’t even deserve to think about this because Jungkook was never yours. Even if he tempts you with his words and his scalding touch, you were just someone familiar to him.

He didn’t want you.

You purse your lips and will yourself not to shed a tear in public, so you quickly turn on your heel to head towards the library; where the world is a lot quieter.

“Did you see this?” Jimin leans closer to shove his phone in front of your face.

You frown and ignore him, but he’s like an annoying brother who won’t budge when he waves the device even more.

“What?” You snap, eyes shut in irritation.

“Damn. Who pissed in your cereal?” Jimin mutters.

You roll your eyes and sigh, looking at him with a softer expression.

“Sorry.” You wince, “I just had a bad day and … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have unloaded it on you.”

Jimin smiles at you pitifully before turning to face you, placing his phone downwards on the table.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You think about what’s been bothering you and you can only think of Jungkook. How he pretended like he didn’t know you after he fingered you in the bathroom at a party. How Sana didn’t think you and Jungkook were possible. How Jennie was interested and she was gorgeous. How Jungkook would be too.

“Nah.” You wave him off, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

Jimin eyes you sceptically but you rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You sure?”

You nod, before cocking your head to his phone.

“What did you want to show me?”

He blinks at his phone and then picks it up, already in a different mood when he opens his device to his Instagram page.

“Did you know Kook and Jennie were a thing?” Is the first thing you hear after Jimin shows you a video that makes your heart drop into your stomach.

It’s Jungkook—and Jennie.

But that’s not it.

They’re kissing, quite passionately and people are egging them on when Jungkook slips a leg between her thighs while he cradles her face against his own. You see people cheering and hollering when Jungkook slips his tongue into her mouth, and Jennie smiling against the kiss.

It was at the party. The party where he fingered you and kissed you on the lips before he proceeded to pretend like he didn’t know you and disappear.

You wonder how you missed all of that.

“______?” Jimin calls out to you.

You blink up at him before he looks at you with a confused yet concerned expression.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks.

You clear the lump in your throat, and your point is proven. They do look good together.

“I-I …” You mumble, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Jimin doesn’t believe you and he sets his phone down, but before he can say anything a new figure joins you at the table by slamming their stuff down.

When you look up, you see Jungkook—and it hurts so badly when you recognise his cocksure smirk with his eyes trained on your face.

“What are the two of you whispering about?” He snorts, settling into his seat.

Before Jimin can say anything, you push yourself up abruptly that startles both Jimin and Jungkook.

“I have to go.” You blurt.

Jimin furrows his eyebrows, “Are you really okay—”

“Yes.” You say tightly, packing your belongings as quickly as you can without sparing Jungkook another glance.

“You’re not even going to say hi?” Jungkook asks, and if you were in a better headspace then you’d hear the slight irritation in his tone.

You purse your lips, but still, keep your eyes away from him. You don’t respond to him, and neither do you flatter Jimin’s concerned stare.

But before you can leave, Jimin grabs your wrist and your breath hitches, head-turning slowly to face him while you ignore Jungkook’s heavy gaze on you.

“Text me?” He says softly.

You knew from Jimin’s eyes that he’s worried, and you felt slightly guilty for leaving him behind like this when you promised him to study. But you couldn’t be around Jungkook right now. Not when your mind was everywhere and you were confused about everything.

Not when the video exists.

“I will.” You reply, equally as soft.

You tug your hands away and don’t spare Jungkook another glance before you’re rushing out of the library, the lump in your throat more apparent than ever.

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2small-frog · 3 years ago

Note

ahhh i feel bad for requesting but if you have the time could you write sam marking werewolf listener ?? please and thank you !!

(a/n: awaw pls dont feel bad!! tysm for requesting anon! :)):):)) also i am so so sorry this took so long hwbhwbhebwh)

sam x reader (darlin')

reader's pronouns: they/them

cw: blood, biting and brief mentions of violence

sam sighed, exhausted from the night's events as he glanced to his side to see darlin', still unconscious on their couch. that couch really has seen far too much, hasn't it?

he took their hand in his, gently running his thumb over their knuckles. he still couldn't believe he'd let all of this happen to them. these were the consequences of keeping them a secret, coming back to bite him in the ass. he should've seen it coming.

he thought back to the sight of his the stubborn, headstrong wolf, in the grasps of a very smug looking alexis. he was beyond lucky that vincent just happened to be on a stroll, there's no way sam would've been able to stop her on his own. but now he owed vincent a favor. the thought of it forced an exasperated groan from his throat. he hated owing people, but this time he had no choice.

couldn't he ever catch a break?

he was pulled out of his thoughts by a quiet whine that slipped from between darlin's lips. he scooted closer in his chair as they stirred, wincing at the soreness sparking through each muscle. sam couldn't help the soft smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth when the wolf's eyes focused in on him.

"sam...? what–" sam put a firm hand on their back as they sat up, slowly guiding them so they didn't hurt themself more. "where? what happened? where's alexis?"

sam shook his head as he handed them a cold bottle of water, the condensation dripping from his hands. "one question at a time, darlin'. take it easy."

they took the water with shaking hands and greedily drank, dribbles spilling down their chin. they just now realized how their throat scratched and burned with every breath. once the bottle was nearly empty, they pulled away and took a couple deep breaths, relishing in the coolness coating their throat.

"now," they started, still catching their breath. "what happened? where's alexis?"

sam sighed, "hold your horses, i'll tell you what happened. you apparently had the bright idea to go for a stroll in the middle of the night, again, on vamp territory. and that– that bitch decided to try n' feed from you."

sam could almost make out the fear in darlin's eyes as they reached a hand up to tenderly prod at their neck.

"did she? did she bite me?"

sam shook his head. "no, she didn't. there's no way in hell i'd let her."

his words hung in the air for a moment as darlin' situated themself comfortably. they could tell that sam was thinking hard about something. his brow furrowed as he chewed his lip, a habit that he'd no doubt picked up from them. after a silence that was, in darlin's eyes, far too long, they softly nudged his leg. his gaze shifted up to them, their head tilted in a beautiful mix of confusion and concern. god, how he adored their expressions.

"what're you thinking about?" they asked quietly, like they were afraid to frighten him. "your brow's all furrowed. you'll get all wrinkly if you worry too much."

sam sighed, thinking over how he was to phrase his thoughts. he needed to keep them safe. he's needed it from the beginning. he tried so hard to tell himself it was just instinct; that he'd gotten so used to protecting people, healing people, that it was just second nature. he knew there was another reason, but he didn't want to face that yet. he didn't have the time.

"this is gonna sound weird," he paused, gaging their reaction. once he didn't sense any hesitation, he continued. "dahlia's a dangerous place. especially with you running around vamp territory all willy nilly. you're a young, strong wolf. parading around, getting involved in risky business involving other vampires, unmarked."

"unmarked? you mean like, claimed? but by a vampire?"

sam nodded. luckily for him, this wolf was a smart one. they could grasp what he was getting at without too much explanation. they knew what he wanted.

"you want to mark me, don't you?"

again, sam nodded.

"to keep you safe. at least, as safe as it can. with you playing bounty hunter, i can't imagine it'll do much against quinn and his... entourage, but it'd at least keep the clan off your tail."

another silence took over as darlin' thought over what they'd just heard.

"... how do you do it? marking, i mean."

sam cleared his throat as he made eye contact with the wolf. they looked nervous, something he was desperate to change.

"it's a part of the biting process. i, uh. i'd have to bite you."

with barely any hesitation, darlin' lifted their wrist and presented it to sam, practically on a silver platter.

"woah, woah, hang on. just like that? you know i could just be lying to you– using you for blood, or... or trying to kill you!" sam was sputtering, stuck between whether to be flattered or upset at their blind trust in him.

he was barely restraining himself. the thought of alexis with her hands on his wolf, with her fangs so close to their neck- it sent his protective instincts into overdrive and all he wanted was to be on them with his fangs buried in their neck. all the while, their eyes were set on him, their usual curious glint shining a bit brighter now. did they have any idea what they did to him?

sam sighed, his breath shaky. "you can't just offer yourself up like that, darlin'. don't you have any sense in that pretty head?"

"i'm not stupid," they laughed, voice light and sweet. "i wouldn't let you bite me if i didn't trust you completely. if you really wanted to, you would've already gotten it over with."

that was true, sam knew. he'd even said it the first time they'd met, that night in the middle of wonderworld. if he'd really wanted them dead, he would've killed them himself. he probably should've, in hindsight.

but he couldn't bring himself to, for whatever reason. probably for the same reason his fists were balled and breath was ragged as he struggled to hold himself back. he was given permission, they would let him mark them. his entire being screamed at him to bite.

and so he did.

he took one last glance to darlin' for confirmation, and they nodded. so he gingerly took their wrist and he sunk his teeth in.

and oh god, it was good.

the flavor of their blood coated his tongue, setting every taste bud ablaze. it glided down his throat and clouded his mind in the best way. it tasted exactly how he'd imagined- it was smooth but zesty, it tasted fierce and bold and delicious. it was euphoria, in every sense. they were euphoria.

and the way they melted and whined and held onto his shoulders for dear life. like without him, they'd float away. the feeling was mutual, really. and he relished in the weightlessness.

but he needed to stop. as much as he longed for the taste of them to last forever, he needed to cut himself off.

so he did. not easily, by any means, but he did it.

the look on his face must've been quite the sight, because the moment he looked up at them, pupils blown and blood dripping from his lips, they let out the softest gasp. if he hadn't been cursed (blessed?) with vampire's hearing, he would've been none the wiser. but oh, he heard it. and he loved it.

"are you okay?"

the quesion came out in a more sultry tone than he'd planned, but he was too buzzed to care.

their response was breathy, the intensity of the bite still shooting adrenaline through their veins. "yeah. yeah. i'm okay. really okay." they loosened their death-grip on his shoulder. "are you okay?"

"more than okay, darlin'."

the look that was exchanged between the two of them was a clear indicator that both of them knew that this would not be the last time sam would feed from darlin'.

not by a long shot.

@the-phantoms-library @theodorebasmanov @planticusp @sunberrybush @myanettes @daviah @bug-likes-monsters

#mars.writes #redacted.request #redacted asmr

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timelesslords · 3 years ago

Text

have my back, yeah, every day

Annabeth realizes that Percy started sleeping on his back, and she’s determined to know why.

or, a one shot based on this post

Read on AO3

Annabeth had spent a surprising amount of her life watching Percy Jackson sleep.

Not in a weird way. It wasn’t like she’d been sneaking into his cabin at night— at least, she hadn’t been before they started dating a month ago. It was just that the life of a demigod was inherently transient, and they’d spent a lot of time questing with each other, and questing meant sleeping in shifts.

And sure, one could argue that the purpose of shift-sleeping was to watch out for threats, not watch your questing companions sleep. But in the absence of imposing threats it wasn’t like there was a lot else to do besides watch your friends sleep. And maybe Annabeth had focused on watching one friend in particular, so much so that she had picked up on a lot of his sleeping habits.

In the past month since they'd started dating, she'd only honed those observations to their minutiae: she could tell from the twitch of his fingers whether the dream he was having was good or bad. She could tell from his breathing whether he was in a deep sleep or a shallow one. She knew he ran hot and only slept with a sheet, if anything at all.

So that was why Annabeth found it odd that Percy had suddenly shifted from being an adamant side-and-stomach sleeper to always, always, sleeping on his back.

Admittedly, she’d probably spent more time in the past two weeks watching Percy sleep than she had every other time combined, so her sample size had grown, which could somewhat account for the shift from stomach to back. Except that it wasn’t an occasional switch, something she could have caught onto earlier. It was every single time.

Every random nap (which he took a lot of, these days). Every time she snuck into his cabin at night and he fell asleep before her. Everytime she fell asleep first and woke up before him. Even right now, both of them on his bunk together, his head in her lap-- despite the fact that there was a perfectly good pillow not two feet away. On his back. Always.

Annabeth really wasn’t supposed to be here at all, but Percy spent a lot of time asleep lately, and she didn’t mind bending the rules to spend more time with him. Summer was starting to wind down, and that meant her time with him was starting to dwindle as well. She wanted to spend every possible minute they could together, even if it meant all she was doing was watching him sleep. And okay, maybe they’d spent some time making out before Percy’s nap, but still. He wasn’t asleep yet, but he was getting close.

He looked so peaceful and relaxed Annabeth almost just kept her mouth shut altogether. But they’d both be going home in a few days, and she knew this was going to drive her crazy until she sucked it up and asked him about it.

"You never used to sleep on your back," Annabeth said, finally unable to take it anymore.

Percy’s eyes fluttered open sleepily. Annabeth immediately felt a little guilty for depriving him of his nap, but he didn’t seem upset, just confused.

“Huh?” he yawned.

“You always used to sleep on your side. Or your stomach. And now you never do,” Annabeth said. She watched as recognition flitted across his features, but he still hesitated before answering.

"Oh, yeah,” he said, unhelpfully. But Annabeth could tell that her instincts were right, and this was something going on, not just her being a crazy person who spent way too much time memorizing her boyfriend’s sleeping habits.

Maybe she should leave it alone. He clearly didn’t seem all that excited to talk about it. But she’d already brought it up, and it was clearly bothering him, and well-- Annabeth was curious.

“Why?” she asked.

This time he glanced away, his eyes finding the ceiling instead of meeting her gaze.

I guess after… everything, it just sort of felt exposed," he said, slowly.

It took Annabeth a second to realize what he meant by "everything." There was the obvious answer, the one that went along with “exposed,” the one that frankly, she was already kicking herself for not guessing from the start. His Achilles spot was on his back, so no fucking wonder he didn’t want to sleep back to the world anymore.

Annabeth could tell by the tone of his voice that it was more than that, just slightly. But she couldn’t even begin to parse out what that meant without acknowledging the obvious.

“Oh. Gods, I’m dumb,” she groaned, covering her face with one hand.

He laughed, his shoulders shaking against her legs just slightly.

“You’re not dumb,” he said. His voice was affectionate, but she could tell his nerves about the whole thing hadn’t completely melted away. His finger had started tapping against the bedspread beside him, a nervous, unconscious gesture.

“Yeah, but I should have…”

Annabeth trailed off. She should have known. It was obvious. She was the only one who could have possibly known, because she was the only one who knew where his spot was, the only one he’d ever trusted with that information. And she hadn’t realized.

“What? Known?” Percy finished for her, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, shouldn’t I have?” Annabeth asked, peering down at him through her fingers.

Percy reached up, tugging on the hand that was still covering her face, pulling it away, down above his head, wrapped in his own.

“Annabeth, I didn’t even know that you’d noticed I’d switched. It’s not a big deal.”

It had been so easy to forget about it all, the past month. Things had been normal, happy, better than normal, because now they were dating and the war was over and nobody was on the verge of predetermined death. And Annabeth had spent a month wondering why he’d stopped sleeping on his stomach and it hadn’t, not once, occurred to her why, even with the answer staring at her right in the face. She just hadn’t wanted to look.

If she was honest, the curse scared her. Sure, it provided protection in a more general sense. He was never going to get a cut or a scrape or a burn from the lava wall. But it made everything so tenuous-- all of him was tethered to life through one tiny spot on his back. It could all fall away so easily, and Annabeth had been pushing that thought out of her mind for the entire past month.

“Hey, you okay?”

Annabeth glanced back down at Percy, jolted back to reality by his voice. He was frowning, little worried lines etched between his brows.

“The curse isn’t the only reason,” Annabeth said, ignoring his question, “I mean it is, but-- there’s more.”

He grimaced a little, but didn’t drop his eyes this time.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, trying to cover up his frown with a smile, squeezing her hand.

But then his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly to her shoulder—where, under the fabric of her t-shirt, there was still a thick white scar from a poisoned knife that wasn't meant for her at all— and Annabeth suddenly understood everything.

Percy could say what he wanted about the strategic placement of his Achilles heel; that it was small and hard to hit with armor on and all those other things. But Annabeth knew why he’d put it on his back maybe even better than he did. It was the same reason he’d always slept on his stomach, at least until now. Because even after everything he’d been through, all the fights he’d survived and all the betrayals he’d suffered, he was still a little too damn trusting.

He’d put his weak spot on his back because there was some part of him, however small, that still believed people were good and decent and would face you head on, the same way he would. That they wouldn’t attack you when your back was turned, because even if it would give him the advantage, Percy would never win a fight that way. He’d banked on his own instinct, because that goodness was so built into his worldview he probably hadn’t even realized he’d done it.

Obviously that hadn’t quite worked out, and Annabeth had almost died taking the knife that was literally and figuratively meant to stab him in the back. And Annabeth knew that that was what he meant by “everything,” not just the curse itself.

Percy was still looking up at her, patiently waiting for her to be finished thinking, completely oblivious to her realizations. Annabeth bit her lip. She couldn’t tell him all that. For one, it was the opposite of “not worrying,” and for another she didn’t want him to worry about her.

And she didn’t want him to be scared anymore. She wanted him to bear his back to the world as freely as he had before, because the thought of losing that part of him was painful in a way she didn’t even know how to describe.

“Get up,” she said, nudging his head with her knee.

“Why? Ow—” Another nudge and Percy was sitting up next to her, rubbing his temple. As soon as he was up, Annabeth laid down, pressing her back to the wall of the cabin.

“What are you doing?” Percy asked, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Fixing it,” Annabeth said, patting the bed next to her, “Lie down.”

Percy gave her a weird look, but followed her instructions, tentatively lowering himself onto the mattress next to her, back down.

“On your side, dummy,” Annabeth said, poking him in the ribs for emphasis.

Percy frowned, suddenly realizing what she was trying to do.

“But your—”

Annabeth didn’t even need him to finish his sentence to know that he was protesting the fact that her back would be uncovered this way, nevermind the fact(s) that a) the chances of them being attacked at camp in his cabin were slim to none and b) Annabeth was not the one with her lifeline attached to one very specific exposed spot on her body.

“Wall,” Annabeth reminded him, kicking the cabin wall behind her with one foot, just to remind him that it was there.

Percy sighed, but was either out of protests or too tired to use them. He rolled over tentatively, his back pressed against her front. Annabeth curled into him, wrapping her arm around his chest, tucking her chin into the crook of his neck.

She could feel him relax under her, something tense in his limbs melting away, his breath slowing and evening out.

“Better?” she asked, quietly, suddenly a little self-conscious.

“Better,” he agreed, finding her hand and squeezing it again, “Thank you.”

Annabeth smiled into his neck, lacing her fingers more securely through his.

“You’re welcome,” she said, snuggling a little closer to him.

They spent a quiet few minutes like that before either of them spoke again. Annabeth would almost think Percy had fallen asleep, except that he was rubbing little circles into her palm with his thumb.

“I could get used to this,” he admitted.

Annabeth’s chest felt warm, and she didn’t think it was from Percy’s body heat. He was trying to sound casual, but Annabeth could tell he meant it.

“Yeah?” she asked, softly.

She could hear the smile in his reply, even if she couldn’t see it.

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

It was Annabeth’s turn to smile, then.

“I’m always gonna have your back, Seaweed Brain. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

#don't mind me just spreading my Annabeth Is The Big Spoon propaganda #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth oneshot #percabeth angst #percabeth fluff #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson fanfic #annabeth chase #percy x annabeth #pjo #pjo fic #pjo fanfic

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strawberry-lemonade-kisses · 3 years ago

Text

My Knight

“Your highness, it is time to wake up” Mitsuri shook the bed slightly as she crawled into it. Removing the duvet from your body she smiled as you groaned, rolling over to avoid looking at her. She was too happy to wake you up every day. " You will have breakfast and then his majesty would like to meet with you in the throne room” she continued to list your schedule as she urged you to sit up, using her abnormal strength to help you stand up from the bed and move you to the bathroom. "Your highness you must be attentive today, it's your first day with your knight, you have to make sure that you get acquainted and tell his majesty if you feel something is off." You allowed her to help you out of your nightgown, still drowsy from the restless night of tossing and turning. It was the eve of your 21st birthday, a pivotal point in any princess’ life. Suitors who had been lining up outside the palace walls since you were a mere infant finally had the chance to court you, gaining the advantage of the infamous Ubuyashiki firstborn daughter. Your father had been very adamant about waiting until your 21st birthday before you were to even be considered for marriage. Your older brother had already secured the throne for himself so it was up to you and your younger siblings to marry well and keep the union between your kingdom and others strong.

“Come on your highness, let’s get you washed quickly so you can meet him” Mitsuri nudged your knee so you would step into the clam-shaped tub. You sat quietly while Mitsuri scrubbed at your scalp, her sleeves rolled up on her green and pink uniform. It matched beautifully with her green and pink hair, a chuckle erupting from your tired lips as you thought of your father's face when you suggested staff uniforms that matched them, giving them a sense of self instead of the dread of essential slavery while working for the crown.

“Is everything okay, your highness? Did I get soap in your eyes?” the hands-on your head paused as she retrieved a washcloth for your eyes. You waved her away, mumbling apologies before explaining your laughter.

“Just thinking of father, and why do you keep calling me your highness, how long have you been with me Mitsuri? You don’t have to be so formal with me” she made a small noise of acknowledgment, continuing her attack on your hair. The water was a welcome feeling as it ran over your head, soaking your entire face and being.

“I was hearing from Princess Hinaki’s stewards that his majesty chose one of the strongest knights for you. However, they have said that he seems scary.” Mitsuri rambled on absently to squash the awkward silence as she scrubbed at the dirt under your nails, making sure they shined in the bathroom lighting. Noticing your hesitance as you unconsciously pulled your hand away from her she scrambled to correct herself “but I don’t think he can be that bad, his majesty knows how kind and gentle you are, he wouldn’t dare choose someone who would scare you. Maybe you will get lucky and you will be accompanied by the tall knight we had come upon the other evening in the gardens. I can’t remember his name” she hummed as she thought, a usual habit of hers.

“Gyomei”

“Yes, Gyomei! He seemed strong, very large. There’s no way he couldn’t be one of the strongest knights his majesty has.” Mitsuri giggled into the towel she was carrying over, one that she quickly wrapped you in as you emerged from the steaming bath. You followed her back out of the room to your bed that already had your outfit for the day laid out, your other maid standing patiently by it as she waited for you to emerge from the washroom.

“Are you excited, your highness?” Shinobu made small talk as she squeezed you into the teal gown, the cinched waist of it already digging into your hips as she tied the corseted back.

“I’m not sure. I have never had a man this close to me, at all times. I know father said it was no big deal, but” you paused, unsure of what was already making you feel so uneasy at the thought of having a knight stationed with you 24/7. You were anxious no doubt, finally being able to have the freedom to leave the castle grounds without your father or his entourage. There was an overwhelming dread that clung to you like an infant. You groaned as Shinobu tugged at the ribbon of the corset, lurching forward to grab onto the corner of your bed for support. She apologized under her breath as Mitsuri walked over to assist her. Pulling one last time she tied the back, finishing off your dress. You turned to face your two maids, both so beautiful as they looked over your dress, smoothing down the out-of-place fabric on the larger hem. Nodding to each other in agreement on your looks they both wandered off, collecting jewelry and hairpins as you went to sit on the stool near your vanity. They did your hair and make-up with practiced precision, working around each other like a well-rehearsed dance, one they had been doing since their youth. The pins in your hair didn’t hurt too much as Mitsuri checked over her work, moving aside as Shinobu was choosing which silver necklace she liked more.

“What do you think?” she looked at you for advice, holding out two different boxes of necklaces. The first box showed off a larger silver necklace, different flowers winding around the entire thing, blue fluorites marking the middle of each flower. The second box held a smaller necklace, a simple silver choker, adorned with diamonds and small neon apatite stones accenting the piece. Looking between the mirror and the necklace, you pointed at the second box, the brighter blue stone matching the color of your dress almost perfectly. Shinobu smiled before placing down the first box and removing the second necklace, clasping it around your neck and stepping back, allowing you to rise and look at your full ensemble. The A-line teal dress paired with the silver jewelry matched well with your silver crown, the diamonds reflecting in the bright morning, one you could feel was the beginning of something new, something bright, something that made your stomach twist with anxiety.

You chose to skip breakfast, not sure if your stomach could handle any food through your nerves. You made your way towards the throne room, Mitsuri’s fast-paced steps following right behind your own, as you wanted to get the affair over quicker than possible. You curtsied at the two knights stationed outside the large doors to the throne room, the swords by their sides shone in the brightly lit corridor. Nodding, they held the doors open, revealing your father's stiff posture as he sat atop the throne, your mother’s equally stiff posture mimicking his own as she sat next to him, her fingers intertwining his as they spoke amongst each other.

Your presence was announced as you fast-walked to the thrones, a frown taking over your father's lips at your rush.

“Slow down Y/N, you will not rush such a wonderful event. The official knighting of my first daughter. It is an honor for you to go through such an event.” The White and purple cape over his shoulders moved as he did, urging you closer to the thrones.

“Let us introduce your knight, one your mother and I thought very hard about, picking someone we believed would not only serve his duty with the most honor but would do so as to make you feel safe and secure anywhere you go.”

He rose from his seat, your mother following as they both approached you. Holding out his arm for you to take, your father walked through a large pair of doors, over to the king's study where a smaller male stood stiffly, adorned in the signature onyx and white knight's armor.

“Y/N, as firstborn daughter, for your 21st birthday it is customary to knight your very own protector. After very careful consideration, out of all the trainee’s who have been growing and training as you have grown we have decided that Obanai Iguro will be your knight” at the sound of his name Obnai lifted his head, heterochromatic eyes meeting your own before he dropped into a deep bow.

“You may stand Obanai. I will allow you to get acquainted momentarily before the ceremony begins” leading your mother out of the study, you were left with Obanai, alone. As he stood straight again you were able to finally look at him. You quickly understood why the stewards said he was scary. His piercing gaze had you feeling like you were the one being knighted, smaller than he was, just a mere bug under his gaze. The armor did nothing to hide his slender frame, taunt muscles from years of training in every form of combat there was available. From the tight under armor, the black and white patterns underneath the metal plates. The black and white stripes traveled past his neck, covering his lips and stopping under his nose, trying to hide what was under it, but failing. The tight fabric showed off his lips, the outline of every single curve of them. It also showed two lines, scars? Jewelry? It wasn’t uncommon for the knights to have an ornamental piece of their choosing. One of the knights that had previously retired had gemstones placed in his helmet, the opals showing off his own design.

“It’s an honor to meet your highness, princess Y/N. I have trained for a chance like this for years, I hope I meet your standards.” he finished off his well-rehearsed speech with a blank stare, heterochromatic eyes staring into the very depths of your being. You couldn’t help but struggle under his gaze, thrown off by the intensity of it. Looking towards the fabric of your dress that you had gripped in your anxiety. The blue had matched the color of his left eye, making you meet his gaze once more to confirm your thought.

“I have no doubt you will, you have met my father's standards, which are worse than mine” You breathed out a forced laugh, trying to maintain somewhat of an elegant aura that you had been taught since you were an infant. He nodded, lips pursing in thought through the fabric of his uniform.

“My stuff has already been moved to the quarters in your wing, if you need anything please do not hesitate to come to me at any hour. I am only a door away” you thought back to the door next to your vanity, locked since you were a child, but now, it was unlocked, available for you to wander in at any time. You nodded this time.

“Your eyes are beautiful” your words obviously shocked him, his eyes widening momentarily before sharpening once more. You kicked yourself for blurting out the thought, one that should have stayed inside

“Thank you, your highness” he mumbled, finally turning away from you.

“I will try not to hurt you today Obanai, I promise” You curtsied at him before rushing out of the room, not allowing him to answer you before you escaped the uncomfortable meeting. Mitsuri stood outside the study, perking up as you emerged from the room. She followed you as you made your way back to the thrones taking your seat on the smaller throne placed near your parents.

“How was he? Was it Gyomei?” Mitsuri leaned down to speak to you, instantly bombarding you with questions as you tried to slow your rapidly beating heart. Your anxiety had begun skyrocketing since you laid eyes on your knight, obanai. You waved her off, silencing her questions as she stepped back, a blush crawling up her neck as she processed your dismissal.

You sat quietly as the ceremony began, your father rambling on a long speech about the tradition of the firstborn daughter knighting her own protector and the freedom she was finally granted. It wasn’t until Obanai appeared from the study did you pay attention, following his movement as he knelt in front of the thrones, helmet placed under his knee as he looked at the floor. You rose as your father finished his speech, following the mental instructions you had remembered at the multiple practice sessions you had for this moment. Your steps echoed in the quiet hallway, all nobles and staff had their eyes on you as you approached Obanai. You stopped in front of him, his eyes not leaving the floor as he unsheathed his sword, the curves of the blade falling into his hands as he held it out on display to you, laying it across his palms.

“Repeat after me, I Iguro Obanai, do solemnly swear and pledge my sword to Y/N Ubuyashiki, my liege, to defend and obey her until she departs her demesnes or death shall take me, and to uphold the honor of knighthood.” He looked up as you addressed him, repeated the words with fluid accuracy.

“And I, for my part, do swear to defend and honor Iguro Obanai as befits a true knight” You took the sword from Obanai, almost crumpling under the weight of it, how did he hold it so easily? Taking a deep breath to hide your struggle you held it upright before moving it towards his left shoulder, lightly tapping it as best as you could without shaking before lifting it and moving to his right side, repeating the process before holding it upright once more. Taking another deep breath you finished the ceremony.

“Then I dub thee Sir Obanai, and return this, my sword, to you to be wielded in my name. Arise, Sir Knight” Taking the sword with ease Obani rose from the ground, Sheathing his sword and holding his helmet under his arm. He saluted you, stepping next to you to face the crowd of cheering nobles and leaders. You were led out of the hall by Obanai, his fast-paced steps leaving you almost jogging behind him to keep up. Mitsuri struggled to keep up behind you as well. As the main doors shut behind you Obanai let out a sigh of relief, removing the helmet from his head. His black hair rained onto his shoulders, the straight strands resting along the shiny black armor.

“I am Mitsuri! One of the princess’ maids” Mitsuri bowed to Obanai, stepping back as he looked between you and your maid. He gave her a stiff nod, facing you.

“Where to?”

“My quarters for the rest of the day, I’ll take supper in my room Mitsuri” You walked away without letting anyone finish once again, the anxiety bubbling up once again as you face Obanai. You wanted to run away from him, unsure as to why you felt so uneasy, so restless near him. Why was his gaze so enticing? You were grateful to have your own wing in the castle, the younger siblings had to share wings but you and your maids had your own wing, your own private haven that no one dared to disturb. If you were needed they rang for one of the maids to deliver the news to you. Bursting into your room you ignored Shinobu’s surprised face as you walked over to the vanity, quickly pulling off the jewelry and pins that felt like they were weighing you down, suffocating you under their pressure.

“Your highness, is everything alright?” Shinobu jogged over, pushing your shaky hands out of the way as she removed the rest of the extra pieces, carefully placing them back as you moved to your bed, motioning towards the ribbon holding your dress in place. Mitsuri finally moved from where she stood frozen near the door, almost confused by your sudden need to be freed. She shut the door on Obanai, moving to undo the ribbon and release you from the confines of your gown. You almost gasped out a breath as the garment fell to the floor, stepping out of it and grabbing one of the lighter silk dresses that hung in your opened closet. You quickly slipped it on before sinking onto the chaise lounger near the window. Your breath was ragged as you sat near the window, staring out at the gardens below as you tried to figure yourself out. A harsh knock on the door brought you out of the daze, turning your attention to the door.

“Your highness, should I retrieve a doctor?”Obanai stood on the other side of the door, not daring to step into your quarters without permission.

“Please go, Retire for the night. It’s okay” You dismissed him quickly, asking Mitsuri to shut the door which she carefully obliged, trying not to make a lot of noise as she shut it.

“My lady, please breathe with me. Slowly inhale” Shinobu moved in front of you, kneeling and taking your hands in her own as she asked you to breathe with her, guiding you through a couple deep breaths which seemed to blow away the fog clouding your mind. “Do you feel better? Is everything okay?” she looked at you with concern as Mitsuri came to crouch next to her, looking at your lost expression.

“I-I am not sure. There is.” You sighed “Obanai, he is a good knight I have no doubt, but I feel so”

“Uncomfortable?”

“Unsafe?”

“Drawn to him. His eyes are so calculating like he's memorizing me, trying not to forget the way I look. His mouth, you can see it through his uniform, but there's more, I know there is” Shinobu and Mitsrui’s mouths dropped at your confession, the confused way you expressed these feelings, as if you weren’t sure why you felt this way. It took a few seconds for them to process the information.

“Don’t worry your highness, this is normal. Just get to know him, maybe give him a small tour of your wing so he gets better acquainted with the surrounding. He’s just as nervous as you are, it's not every day you get to be the knight of a beautiful princess” You could feel your face heating at Mtsuri’s words, but you understood what she was saying. Maybe you should try to help him, he’s helping you as well, it's only fair.

“That sounds good, I shall retrieve him” standing from your seat you smoothed down your gown, marching towards the door that separated your room with his.

“Obanai?” You knocked on the door, calling out for your knight. The door wasn’t answered so you opened it, walking into the room. Obanai sat on the edge of his bed, a towel running over his wet hair. You couldn’t help it that your eyes wandered, trailing lower to his bare chest, overly-defined and well sculpted. He was a sight to behold, chiseled by the gods themselves. You followed the beads of water that trailed down him, running the path along his muscles, down to the hem of his pants. He stood at the intrusion, Dropping the towel onto his shoulders as he looked at you. You squeaked as he arched a brow, questioning your very obvious staring of his chest. “I’m so sorry” You squealed, slamming the door shut behind you as you turned back to your two maids who sat on the chaise, confused. Your knight was hot, and it was only your first day with him.

#iguro obanai #iguro #obanai scenarios #obanai x reader #kimetsu no yaiba obanai #demon slayer scenarios #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #hashira #kimetsu no yaiba #obanai x you #obanaiiguro #kny #kny scenarios #kny obanai #demon slayer #demon slayer obanai #this took forever #bruhhhh

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ateez-amanda · 3 years ago

Text

Set Up

Time: Early February 2020

Summary: When Seungkwan and Wooyoung plan a blind date for Amanda and Jeonghan without their knowledge.

Disclaimers: italic words are her thoughts

Masterlist

a/n: This is reedited. I hope you all like it! Let me know what you guys think :)

Echoes of music notes from game machines and the clanks of the claw machines used by the handful of people, greeted Woyoung and Amanda as they entered the arcade. The place was usually like this as the members and her would always find secluded unpopular places they could hangout at.

The only unusual thing about the place today was Wooyoung's strange behavior. He had been acting weird since he abruptly invited dragged her out here, interrupting her peaceful break from their hectic schedule this past month. He avoided her questions on why she had to dress up nicely for the arcade, which she would normally go in sweats and an old tshirt, and he had this anxious look in his eyes throughout the car ride. And now he kept glancing around, almost like he was looking for something or someone.

"Ok, seriously what is wrong with you? You’ve been acting strange all day." She asked, finally having enough.

Wooyoung gulped at her piercing stare before caving in, "Look, don't hate me! I only did this because I knew you wouldn’t say yes if I told you the truth. But I promise I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think he was a nice guy-"

"Nice guy? What are you talkin-"

"Wooyoung!" She turned around, only for her eyes to widen, astonished to see who the voice was coming from.

It was Seventeen’s Boo Seungkwan.

She knew Wooyoung and Seungkwan had gotten close to each other after meeting at MAMA. She clearly remembers Wooyoung coming to her starstruck, bragging about meeting him. Little did he know that she also met someone from Seventeen. Kind of.

To see him here was a surprise, but what surprised her even more was that right beside him was none other than his fellow member Jeonghan, the person she kind of met and he seemed to be just as surprised to see her here.

"Seungkwan hyung! What are you doing here?" Wooyoung asked with a higher pitched, cracking voice. Amanda raised her eyebrows by the change of her friend's voice.

She has known Wooyoung for about 4 years now and she has observed all of his little habits. One was that his voice only ever went like that when he was lying.

"Hyung and I came to play some games." Seungkwan pointed to Jeonghan, whose eyes were focused on one person.

Her

Her eyes met his, unconsciously. She thought he would look away, but he continued to gaze at her with an angelic smile.

"Really us too! This is my other member, Amanda." Wooyoung explained, nudging her side, making her break eye contact with Jeonghan.

She flusterily bowed to them, "Ah! Hi! Nice to meet you sunbaenims."

“No need for that!” Seungkwan kindly assured her. “I told Wooyoung this before but some of us got to see a glimpse of your performance at MAMA and you guys were incredible. Jeonghan especially loved it.” Seungkwan wiggled his eyes with a smirk at him, hoping to see a flustered Jeonghan. But instead Jeonghan just calmly replied “Yeah, I really enjoyed it.” before teasingly smirking at Seungkwan, who rolled his eyes.

Although she wasn’t sure what was going on between the two, a genuine smile appeared across her face from getting a compliment from her sunbaenims, “Thank you! I loved your guys' performance as well.”

“She’s a huge fan of you guys. She has a shelf full of all of your albu-” She covered Wooyoung mouth with her hand and glared at him with menacing eyes warning him to stop talking before turning over to the two sunbaenims with an innocent smile, “He’s kidding.”

“Oh, so you’re not a huge fan of us?” Jeonghan teasingly joked.

“No! No! Of course I am!” Amanda panicky rambled as Jeonghan chuckled.

“Stop messing with her hyung.” Seungkwan told him.

“Sorry. Thank you for the compliment.” He apolgized before stirring back to the main topic.

“Oh Wooyoung! Since you’re here, I got a higher score on the game we betted on last time.” Seungkwan bragged.

“I bet I can beat it.”

“I bet you can’t.”

“You’re on!” Wooyoung competitive spirit coming out.

“Ah! I was going to show hyung around since it’s his first time here.” Seungkwan remembered.

“Amanda can show him around.” Wooyoung abruptly volunteered her in a higher pitch tone. Her eyes widened, bewildered by his sudden offer.

With Wooyoung being strange since he invited her here, Jeonghan and Seungkwan just so happen to “coincidentally” be here, and Seungkwan and Wooyoung trying to leave Jeonghan and her alone, the pieces were finally being put together and she understood what was going on. She was being set up.

“Do you mind?” Jeonghan asked her.

Before she could reply, Wooyoung butted in “Of course, she doesn’t!”

She tugged the sleeve of Wooyoung's shirt making him lean down to her eye level. "If you leave me, I promise I will kill you in your sleep tonight." She threatenily whispered.

Wooyoung gulped, knowing very well that she would. He glanced over to Seungkwan, who gave him a little nod of encouragement before he looking back at her, “You’ll be fine. I’ll be around, don't worry.”

“Great!” Seungkwan cheered, linking arms with Wooyoung, “We’ll see guys in a bit.”

The two of them bolted off together leaving Jeonghan and Amanda alone.

“They're not that great at being subtle, are they?” Jeonghan asked, also understanding what was happening to them.

“Yeah. I don’t think Wooyoung even knows what the word subtle means.” Amanda unconsciously blurted, earning a chuckle from Jeonghan.

“I don’t think Seungkwan does either.” Jeonghan added. There was a moment of awkward silence between the two. Neither of them knowing what to say.

Say something, Amanda. Anything!

Gosh! How do you talk to people?

“Well, how about we make our own bet on one of the games?” He suggested.

“What are we betting for?” She asked, curious to what he had in mind.

Jeonghan thought for a second when his eyes spotted the food area, “Since I didn’t have lunch today I’m starting to feel hungry. So whoever loses has to pay for dinner.”

Amanda, not being someone to back down from a bet and is just as competitive as Wooyoung, agreed. Jeonghan picked a game and she started off.

Noticing how well she was playing, he decided he needed to take action in order to ensure his win. He got closer to her and slightly nudging her shoulder with his own causing her to lose grip of the controller.

“Noo!” She squealed, trying to quickly get her grip back onto the controller. Luckily for her this little mishap didn’t totally ruin her streak. “Cheater!”

He let out a mischievous laugh, “Sorry I get these tremors sometimes.”

“Whatever!” She rolled her eyes at him trying to hide her smile to keep up her annoyed appearance.

“Alright my turn.” He said, as she stepped aside from the game, so he could take his turn.

Time for some payback

She moved her head in front of his vision to block his view of the game.

“Oh what happening?” she asked, pretending as if she had trouble seeing the screen. He kept swerving his head to get a view of the screen, but she was always one step ahead, “Wow, childish much.”

She shrugged her shoulders, replying with an innocent smile, “What are you talking about? I couldn't see.”

“Well, I hope you can see that you lost.” A cocky grin smeared across his face, pointing at the screen, making her smile vanished. She got a closer look at the screen only to see her name below his on the scoreboard. She let out an annoyed sigh.

Jeonghan leaned down towards her and whispered next to her ear, “Thanks for the meal.”

She flinched at his sudden closeness to her. His warm breath against her ear made her cheeks turn a hint of pink. She practically felt her heart leap out from her chest. Amused by her flusterness, Jeonghan’s signature cheeky grin revealed itself. He gazes into her eyes, contemplating whether to tease her some more.

“You coming?” He asked after ultimately deciding not to. He moves away from her, heading over to the food area. She snapped back to reality, spotting him ahead.

What is happening? Was he just flirting with me? Yoon Jeonghan flirting with me? Was that flirting? It can’t be? This is a dream? Someone needs to pinch me

She took a deep breath to try and calm her rapid heartbeat before catching up to him. They got their meals, which Jeonghan ended up paying for after much debate with Amanda as he claimed he must as her sunbae. The two continued to cha, their conversation topics ranging from their likes, dislikes, and even their members and family.

She couldn’t help but admire his genuine smile when he talked about his members and family and how spoke about them with so much love and care, it made her heart flutter. It was something she understood with her members and family.

“Okay. Let’s do another bet. If I win, you give me your phone number.” He confidently suggested after they finished their meals.

Her eyes widened, dumbfounded by his words. This whole day felt like an illusion for her. She never in her life expected to meet Jeonghan or to even be set up on a blind date with him. But now he wanted her number. “And if I win?”

“Then I will grant you a wish.”

“Fine. But no cheating this time and I get to pick the game."

"Deal." They made their agreement through a handshake. “So which game?”

Having a game in mind already, she lead him to the game, “This one”

Dance Dance Revolution. It was her favorite game and one she knew she had the best chance of winning.

“This is totally unfair.” Jeonghan complained.

“How?”

“I’ve seen you dance. I have no chance of winning.”

“I think you have more of an advantage than me since you're in a group known for their dance skills.”

“But I’m not as good as you. Plus you probably played all the songs on here” He argued back, which she couldn’t deny the last part as she has.

“I think you should give yourself more credit. And you agreed to let me choose the game.” She defended, shrugging her shoulders.

He sighed in defeat, “Fine, but let me choose the song.”

She agreed and Jeonghan picked a song of his choice. They both got into position on the dance floor. Somewhere in the middle of the game, their promise to not cheat was thrown out the window as they began stomping on each other's dance floor and pushing each other out of balance. By the end of the game, they were holding each other's arms to prevent the other from pushing.

“What happened to no cheating?” Amanda whined while the game tallied up the scores.

“You were the one who started it.”

“Was not!” Their bickering continued until the game screen presented the scores, and with only a single point difference, she won.

"Ha! I won." She cheered, jumping with a satisfied smile spread across her face. She faced Jeonghan and it was only a split second, but she caught a glimpse of his disappointed eye’s before he hid it away with a smile.

"Well, you won fair and square. What do you want?" He asked her.

Amanda placed her finger on her lip, thinking of her prize, “Hmmm. Your-”

"Sir, ma’am.” The two of them turn to face one of the workers at the arcade, “We’re closing for the day."

They both looked around the place, noticing that it was practically empty beside a few staff members cleaning up. They spent hours chatting, but neither of them realized the time passing or that the two conniving little planners of this set up had already left.

“Ah. Sorry. We'll leave now.” He told the lady.

“Could we still get prizes with our tickets?” She asked the lady after remembering her tickets she saved in her pockets.

“Of course.” The lady led them to the counter with the prizes and they shopped around at the variety of prizes shown on display before each paying for their prizes.

“Hand.” She instructed him. He tilted his head perplexed but placed his hand out for her with a smirk, “You should know I don’t just let anyone hold my hand.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m not holding your hand, idiot. I’m giving you this.” She placed a small wooden fox keychain in his hand.

“What’s this?”

“A key chain.” She sarcastically answered, “It’s a little souvenir for you since you said it was your first time here.”

Jeonghan let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, confusing her.

“Do you not like it? I can buy something else.”

“No! I like it. Thank you.” He frantically reassured her, “I just also got you something. Hand.”

Her lips curved into a small smile at him mimicking her before laying her hand out for him. He placed the same keychain she had given him in her hand, “I notice you looking at it early. Didn’t know it was for me though.”

She let out a soft giggle, “Well I did want one actually. So thank you!”

A sigh of relief escaped his mouth and a smile appeared, “I’m glad.”

Jeonghan was persistent in dropping Amanda off at the dorms claiming it was late and dangerous for her to walk back at night. While these were all true, he really just didn’t want to leave her yet and she didn’t want to either, so of course she agreed.

Jeonghan parked outside near the back of her dorm apartment in order to prevent being caught by people and cameras.

“This is your dorm right?” He asked as she nodded, “It looks nice.”

“It is. Oh!” She gasped remembering something. "Here." She holds out her phone in her hand towards him. He glanced at the phone, confusion written all over his face. "My wish for winning. Give me your number.”

To this day, she still has no idea how or what got her to muster up the courage to ask him for his number, but she was glad she did.

His lips curved into a giant smile before grabbing the phone from her. He added his number and returned the phone to her, "So when will I hear from you?"

She hummed a bit before grinning at him, "You’ll just have to wait." She could sense the hit of worry that appeared across his face from her response. “I should head in now.”

“Yeah.” He mumbled, slightly disappointed.

He watches her walk towards the door of her apartment. A confused expression comes on his face when he sees her stop walking. “What happened?” He mumbled to himself.

Ring Ring Ring

He reached into the pocket of his pants to pull out his phone to see an unknown number, “Hello?”

“See you didn’t have to wait too long.” Jeonghan recognized the delicate voice on the other line. He looked back over at Amanda to find her facing him with a soft smile and her phone to her ear. He let out a soft chuckle, “It was a little long.”

She jokingly rolled her eyes at his remark, “Anyways, I forgot to thank you.”

“For?”

“For today. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too. Hopefully we can do this again?” Jeonghan nervously asked, unsure if she would want to.

“Yeah. I would like that.”

72 notes · View notes

this-is-my-procrastination · 4 years ago

Note

hi honey! (●’◡’●)ﾉ could i request a oneshot with Dazai, and reader is just always sleepy? like if she sits still for longer than thirty minutes, she’ll be passed out? thank you!

pairing: dazai osamu x sleepy!reader

synopsis: sleepy y/n has trouble staying awake

request: hi honey! (●’◡’●)ﾉ could i request a oneshot with Dazai, and reader is just always sleepy? like if she sits still for longer than thirty minutes, she’ll be passed out? thank you!

a/n: omg im so sorry this literally took me 10 million years to finish!! i think i’ve rewritten this like more than four times at this point lmao but hopefully it turned out ok and you like it! as always, thank you so much for requesting ily <33

A pair of lips delicately brush your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, groggily blinking the sleep from your eyes as you slowly register the owner of the offending lips. To no one’s surprise, it’s Dazai’s smug face that beams back at you, grin softening as he teases, “Look who fell asleep again~ If you weren’t so cute, I might be offended y’know?” His playful pout causes you to giggle, your boyfriend already helping to make waking up so much less vexing than usual.

Retaliating to his teasing remarks, you attempt to ruffle his messy tuft of black hair but find that his head is sadly more than an arm’s length away, much to your dismay. Looking back down at your disheveled bedhead fondly, Dazai pulls you into his arms as you release a few indignant retorts. The movie you two were watching had been in its closing scenes, but when he looked towards you to ask your thoughts (and ask why you’d been so quiet after literally the first thirty minutes), he was met with your very cute, very endearing, very much asleep expression, eyes shut and mouth slightly ajar. Your head was adorably leaned against the crook of his neck, and he would prefer not to admit it, but he had spent more time than he realized just admiring your dozing features silently, appreciating and marveling at this human who made him feel so loved. Past Dazai would have scoffed at a serious romantic relationship that didn’t end in double suicide, but right now, the thought of not being able to spend peaceful moments like this with you was the most excruciating punishment he could possibly imagine. How could he imagine someone else when even just your sleeping face was so incredibly adorable to him?

Your freshly-awake ramblings brought him back to the present. Dazai lets his fingers drift and find its place loosely running down a stray strand of your hair, twirling it cheerfully as he listens to you continuing on.

You suddenly stop your rant, staring at him with an amused expression on your face before you gently prod his side, “What’re you so deep in thought about?” You pondered the possibilities, “Could you be thinking about what to eat? I’m pretty hungry too after that nice nap!”

“No, no,” Dazai dramatically denies your question, waving his hand dismissively, “Well - I’ll never say no to a snack, but I was actually mesmerized! You just look so cute when you’re sleepy~”

You playfully roll your eyes, nudging him with a teasing “uh-huh.”

“Is that why I can get away with falling asleep around you?” your smile is warm as you meet his eyes, and Dazai’s heart quickens just slightly, “I told you that you can wake me up since I sometimes fall asleep before I realize. I appreciate you always taking care of me though, Dazai. You’re a very good boyfriend for that~”

Your praise is music to Dazai’s ears as his lips quirk into a smirk, “Oh-ho, am I finally getting the appreciation I’ve been deserving? I’m glad you finally noticed!” Your boyfriend’s hand pats your head affectionately, and you laugh aloud as he plasters a quick sloppy kiss to your forehead.

You’re about to playfully call him out for his touchiness but your boyfriend’s chest immediately puffs out theatrically, “But don’t you worry! I’m self-sworn to protect my sleeping beauty for as long as I live - actually, even from the grave!”

Dazai’s sudden knightly attitude cracks you up as you swiftly duck out from under his hand. You grin widely at his antics before matching his energy with a statement fitting for a true princess: “oh, ya - uh! ok thanks buddy! so then, Sir Dazai, lead the way to the kitchen and let’s make a mid-movie - oh, never mind the movie’s over - a post-movie snack!”

Dazai’s cheers ring through your apartment as he eagerly yet still surprisingly delicately, always being careful to keep you unscathed and present by his side, grabs your hand and escorts you into the kitchen.

The plan was to make brownies. So, why is Dazai furiously beating a bowl of grainy “whipped cream” that he’d made using a combo of water and specifically granulated, not confectionary, sugar? Why is more brownie batter on cabinet doors than in the baking pan? Why is the salt tipped onto its side, spilling its entire contents into some kind of abstract shape on the countertop?

One reason: food fight. Maybe your abundant sleeping habits had finally caught up to you, but you had never felt as invigorated and actively mischievous as you had when you’d swiped some brownie batter onto your boyfriend’s face. It was worth it! You think. You thought. Dazai’s brown hues absolutely shined with mirth at your pathetic attempt of provoking him. You were prepared for him to laugh it off and call you adorable, maybe naive for playing with fire, but ultimately he would chuckle and move on. Except, that did not happen. Instead, he had immediately retaliated with an even bigger glop thrown into your hair, partly accidentally and partly to be a li’l gremlin, and oh boy, it just escalated from there.

The whipped cream Dazai had whipped up for “quick ammunition” was quickly used up - Dazai scooped it, and the heap had seemed to grow impossibly bigger with every additional spoonful. Currently, his smile was widening and creepily stretching ear-to-ear as his starry eyes zeroed in on your vulnerable form.

The ruthless battle continued for a while, but after finally agreeing to a truce, you both couldn’t help but stare at the resulting mess with equally blank stares.

“Mm... okgoodnightbabe! I’ll see you in the morning!” You almost trip over yourself as you flee, throwing a cursory glance at your incredulous boyfriend before giggling and rushing to close the bedroom door before he can follow. Dazai’s whining carries through the solid wood, but you playfully call back, “I’ll give you anything you want - just pleasee do the cleaning! And if it’s too much, come to bed and we can deal with it in the morning together, ok?”

You could clearly picture Dazai’s pout in your mind as the sound of his footsteps fades towards the kitchen. Smiling fondly, you quickly change into your pajamas and hop into your shared bed to wait for his return. However, listening to the distant clanging of bowls and whooshing of the tap water proved to be an effective lullaby, and you couldn’t help it as your eyes began to flutter and eventually stay closed.

By the time Dazai finishes cleaning, the dark night sky was starting to brighten and mix with the warm oranges and reds of sunrise. He quietly opens your bedroom door and is met, not really to his surprise, by your sleeping lump of a body. Dazai’s brows furrow slightly, but he quickly notices the open book laying by your form and realizes that you had been up waiting for him. He could also tell you by the blankets messily strewn around you - usually you preferred having them wrapped around you like a tight burrito.

At that, Dazai lightly chuckles, his heart warming at the thought. He takes his time putting on a fresh set of clothes and rolls his eyes as he ever-so-gently tucks the blankets over you. The bed shifts as he climbs in carefully, but Dazai quickly freezes as you start to mumble quietly. Your words are inaudible, even as Dazai strains his ears to hear any (possible) secrets that you could be spouting. Shifting restlessly, you roll around and suddenly shoot out your arm, making an interesting grabby motion. Dazai almost lets out a laugh as he wonders what in the world you could be looking for, but his eyes widen when you make contact with your boyfriend and immediately calm down, hand gripping his shirt loosely.

As your body relaxes, Dazai feels a wide smile creep up his face, adoring and almost grossly soft. And he lets it. He just can’t help himself - he leans in and places an affectionate kiss on your forehead, lingering there before pulling back and squeezing next to you under the covers. He shifts your arm into a more comfortable position, and as you unconsciously flip to face him, Dazai’s eyes soften into a sweet but intensely warm chocolate brown. If you had been awake to open your eyes, you would have witnessed a rare but genuine sight: your boyfriend’s peaceful expression illuminated by the quiet sunlight of dawn, his eyes deeply staring into yours with endless messages of comforting assurance and happiness, and his lips subtly quirking into a tenderly loving smile shared only for the two of you.

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #reader insert #dazai oneshot

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plush-rabbit · 4 years ago

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Truth or Dare

Word Count: 5K

A/N: I hope the “😳😳” means something good slkslks. Also yall seen that tiktok where someone calculated that his middle (or ring) finger is 4.5 in?? Because hewwo handsome (also i realized that you never stated if you wanted it to get nsfw so that’s why it stops suddenly!,, sorry!!)

“Hey Tomura-” you nudge his foot with yours under the table- “look at me.”

“I rather not,” he comments, scrolling through his phone, a slight twitch in his shoulder as he responds. You tilt your head at him and lean forward to rest your elbows on the table, chins in your hands as you smile sweetly at him, waiting for him to pay attention to you. “I can feel your staring.”

“It’s an important question,” you lilt, legs bouncing. “Promise it’ll be worth your time.” You lift your head and hold a pinky out towards him.

“If I answer it, will you leave me alone?” He lifts his head and through the mask you can see his eye peer at you, squinting in a scrutinizing gaze. You nod eagerly and he gives a wave of his hand, motioning for you to continue.

Your legs come to a still and you pinch your thighs together. “Okay! So,” you smile eagerly and you pause as the door opens and the rest of the League walks in, slumping down in random spots far from each other, only Himiko and Jin choosing to sit next to each other, “I was going to go out later today and I wanted to know if you wanted me to get you anything?”

His shoulders visibly slump and he gives a light shake of his head. “That’s what you wanted to ask?” He sounds indifferent as he asks, not quite annoyed at your question but not overly excited either. You nod and lay your hands flat on the table. He groans and his hand curls, fingertips pressing against the back of his hand. “Get me some snacks. Like-”

“I know,” you roll your eyes with a smile. “We’ve known each other long enough; I think I’ve already picked up your snacking habits.”

He scoffs and you see his eye roll. “Fine. I expect the correct snacks then or I’ll dust something of yours.” There’s a smile in his voice and you smile back at him, nudging him with your foot once more and pulling your leg away as he tries to do the same.

The both of you sit in silence, nursing on the water bottle that sloshes with each delicate movement. The room is filled with quiet murmurs of Himiko and Jin, too low to make out what exactly their saying and when you raise your head, you smile at Dabi who simply narrows his eyes and turn his head to the side, amber liquid in a clear glass disappears down his throat and the glass is tapped against the wooden table, water rings forming around.

Tomura stands from the table and you look up at him, neck craned as he cracks his own neck. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs to you and he walks out the door leaving you alone at a table.

There’s movements in your peripheral and when you raise your head you’re greeted by a wide grin belonging to Himiko. It’s sweet and wide with a light blush dusted on her cheeks as he rocks back and forth on her heels. You raise a brow and give her a half grin.

“Hi Himiko, what can I help you with?” You motion for her to sit and she does so, never taking her golden eyes off of yours and she sits on the chair, a leg hooked over the other and taps her fingers against the table.

“You and Tomura-kun are close aren’t you?” You raise a brow at the nickname and nod your head, smile still playing at your lips. She huffs and leans back in her chair, nails curling at the table. “How come? You were here even before Dabi and I, right?”

Your smile softens and you nod slowly. “Yeah-” you scratch the back of your neck and turn towards the door where Tomura had left only moments ago- “I’ve been here for a while. I’d say, uh, a bit before the U.S.J. Incident?”

“Woah!” Himiko looks at you with wide eyes and she turns her head and calls over Jin with a wave of her hand. “Jin! They’ve been here since the U.S.J. Incident! Isn’t that so cool?” She turns her attention back towards you and when Jin takes a seat next to you, you give him a smile. “So that’s why you and Tomura get along so well?”

You nod and lick your lips, eyes dancing across the room as the others have now started to watch the light interrogation. “Yeah. Time’ll do that you know. Have people grow closer and stuff.” You smile gently at her and it turns playful. “He’ll never admit it, but he cares for all of us.” Your eyes narrow and you give a half-hearted shrug. “In his own way of course.”

In the back of the room Dabi snorts and shakes his head. He rises from his seat and the chair scratches against the floor. Eyes are on him as he walks over to the growing table, and he takes his place next to you, turning to give you a ravening smile. “So you’ve been with that bastard for a while now, huh?” His eyes glint and you shrink away from him, your legs stretching out under the table and knocking against Tomura’s still empty seat.

“Don’t be rude,” you defend, turning your attention towards Himiko. “Why are you suddenly so interested anyways?”

She blinks owlishly at you and then shrugs, her grin softer and when she speaks, her voice is laced with curiosity. “I don’t know much about you. I thought it would be nice to get to know each other.”

You chuckle and lean against the back of your chair. “What? Like twenty questions?”

She shakes her head and her lips curl and her sharp teeth are exposed. “More like truth or dare.”

“What? Like the kid’s game?” Dabi’s voice is gruff but he doesn’t sound disinterested. He tilts his head and his eyes flicker back to the empty glass he left behind. “Shit’s childish if you ask me.”

You stick the tip of your tongue out at him and give him a deadpanned look. “Well you don’t have to play, if you don’t want to.” You turn away and raise your arms in the air. “Atushiro! Shuichi! Y’all wanna join?” You lower your hands and grab your water bottle, bringing it close to you. “The more the merrier.”

They share a glance with each other, and slowly Atsuhiro removes his mask and his eyes are exposed. He rises from the seat and takes a seat next to Himiko. Shuichi sighs and runs a hand nervously through his hair and walks towards the table, taking the spot next to Dabi. Tomura’s chair remains empty.

“Well Himiko,” Jin says in a quiet voice, leg jerking as he talks and his hands tap against the table, “you wanted to play. Go ahead.”

She nods at Jin and turns her attention back towards you. Your heart pumps erratically and you can feel your stomach drop. “I’ll go easy on you,” she says, her legs swinging under the table, coming to a halt as she opens her mouth. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you answer immediately, not trusting what dare she’ll come up with.

She frowns momentarily. “Why did you join Tomura even before Stainy and the attack on U.A.?”

Your eyes widen and you’re taken aback. “Huh. Um, okay.” Your hands slide away and rest on your lap. “If I’m being honest- which I have to be- I guess it’s because I believed in him.” You frown and your eyes land on the empty seat. “He had so much passion. And I was alone during the time and he offered a hand and I took it.” You pause for a moment and a slow smile graces your features. “He has a goal and I’ll help him see it through.”

“Truth or dare?” Jin asks and you turn to him, a frown replacing your smile. You might not have played the game but you were sure your turn was supposed to be next.

“I thought it was supposed to be my turn,” you comment with an inquisitive tone.

“Still your turn. We’ll get a chance and then you get one after,” he comments quickly, giving you a lazy smile.

You open your mouth about to argue but decide against it. “Truth,” you say slowly, sliding your feet against the floor, and giving him an odd look, not entirely sure where the game is heading towards.

“Did you have a life before all of this?” He tilts his head and his stare is deep, intrusive and there’s a stop in your heart.

You open your mouth and the door clicks open. You all turn towards the sound and Tomura walks in giving you an odd stare where you respond with a jerk of your head, motioning for him to sit. “We’re playing truth or dare,” you mutter quietly as he sits down. You clear your throat and brush your index along the tip of your nose. “Sort of? I had friends- a few- and family but society just wasn’t for me. I was just sort of drifting if that makes any sense.”

Tomura narrows his eyes and his hands fist over the table.

“So you left people behind?” Shuichi asks, his eyes almost sad and voice tight. “Must’ve been a shock to see you gone.”

A sad smile takes over and you shrug. “Yeah, well, that’s just how it is. We all have a dream and hero society right now won’t allow for that to happen so,” you drift off and nod your head, “yeah.”

“Truth or dare,” Atushiro comments, a gloved hand reaching across the table, held out towards you and you sigh with a shake of your head.

You reach above and give him a squeeze, pulling away. “‘S not a big deal. But I will admit I miss family meals and movie nights.” You give him a brighter grin and the sense of longing is gone. “Truth.”

“I suspect truth is going to be a pattern with you,” he comments, his hand retracting to cross his arms in front of his chest. “You haven’t had any meals with someone since you came here?” Your eyes widen and you unconsciously look over to Tomura who looks away from you quickly. “Ah! You have?”

You laugh nervously and give a wave of your hands in front of your chest. “It’s- it’s been a while since we have, We would only eat breakfast together but that’s because I keep bothering him.” Your smile is strained and you can feel heat burn at your ears. “Tomura! You’re turn,” you say hurriedly, legs bouncing under the table.

“Truth or dare?” There's a certain tone to his voice that you can’t quite place.

“Truth,” you say in a quiet voice.

“Did you play on my file on Legend of Zelda?”

Your mouth drops and you laugh. “Shit. That’s your question?” You laugh and shake your head. “ Fuck, had me scared you were going to ask something invasive.” You turn your head and give Dabi a grin. “Your turn.”

“I fucking knew it,” Tomura seethes.

Your face burns hot and you whine in your seat. “You pissed me off!” You turn back to him with an apologetic look. “You took my hashbrown. I told you not to and yet-”

“Oh fuck you,” he huffs.

“I’ll get you a figure later.” You kick him softly under the table and smile at him. “All right, Dabi. Make the question good.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes running over your body, following the curve of your neck and down to the curve of your breasts and resting on your lap. You squirm under his gaze and clear your throat. “You and Shigaraki are pretty close, huh? So have you two fucked then?”

You jump and you sputter out, moving away from him and knocking into Jin who bites back a laugh. “Dabi! That’s highly inappropriate!” Your eyes glance over and you point a finger at Himiko. “Himiko is here and she’s a child. You shouldn’t be using such crude language around her.”

Dabi leans close to you, a faint smell of alcohol on his breath. “She’s heard worse than a simple curse,” he utters, his breath fanning across your face and flinch away. “We’re all wondering about it. Come on, doll” He hand rests on the curve of your knee and you curl your upper lip.

“No. We’re purely platonic,” you answer truthfully. “Can we move on to the next person, please?”

His questioning doesn’t stop. He inches towards you, grin lazy and wide, teeth sharp and his pupil dilated and you watch him with a careful look. “Platonic, huh?” His hand slides up your leg and rests on your thigh and you jerk under his touch. “And before? No little partner?” Your face flushes at his intrusive questions and you glance around, Shuichi looking away immediately and you curse under your breath. “You didn’t leave behind someone with-”

“Dabi, stop,” you tell him in a strained voice. Your entire body is on fire and your hands grip the edge of the table.

“Come on. A cute thing like you must have left behind someone.” His hand curves around your waist and your mouth is suddenly dry. “You mentioned friends but no partner? Was no one good enough for you. With the look you’re giving me, I’m starting to believe you’re a virgin.”

“Fuck you,” you say under your breath.

“Am I right?” His voice is smug and his grin only widens at your refusal to answer him. “Holy fuck. What? Were you waiting for the right person? Is that it?”

“You’re a dick,” you spit out, tears brimming hot in embarrassment.

“Fuck off Dabi,” Tomura says in a serious voice.

“Come on, don’t tell me you weren’t interested. Tell me that you never thought about them bent-”

You stand suddenly from the table and the water bottle falls onto its side. You take in a deep breath and all eyes are on you, watching and waiting for your next move. “I’m leaving.” You walk quickly out of the room, and slam the door behind you, scurrying off to hide in your room.

You sit in your room, face buried in pillows and you try to sleep but then the memory of a few hours ago floods into your mind and you groan, burying your face into the pillow and kicking your legs onto the bed.

“This sucks,” you mutter, patting your bed. There’s a sharp knock on your door and after a few seconds the door squeaks open and the light from the hallway shines in until it’s snuffed out by the door closing. “I didn't say you could come in,” you say, without turning your head. Heavy footfalls sound in the room and with the lack of response, you turn around quickly, hands in a fist with clenched teeth. “Oh. It’s you.” You frown as your eyes meet Dabi’s and you scoot to sit in a criss-crossed position. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk,” he says and he sits at the edge of your bed, far from you.

“I think we talked enough.” Your hands rest in the small space that your legs make. He raises a brow and you turn your head. “Fine. Talk about what?”

“I might have gone overboard-”

“Is someone making you do this?” You narrow your eyes and inch backwards from him. “If it’s- Look I don’t care. It’s fine. Water under the bridge and all. Can you leave now?” You reach over and grab at a pillow, pulling it close to your chest.

He gives you an unamused look. “Are you a virgin?”

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You raise your head and sigh. “Yes Dabi. I am a virgin? Is that an important fact for you?”

“How come?”

“I’m not telling you my life story.” You hold the pillow closer to your chest and at your refusal to answer, he inches closer. “For fucks sake.” You scratch at the side of your neck with dull nails. “I don’t know. I never dated a lot and you know, being here doesn’t really scream out to invite someone over.”

“And you can’t go over to theirs?” You look away from him and shake your head. “Why?”

“I feel like you’re getting some twisted pleasure from this.” Your nails dig into the pillow. “I answered your questions. Now answer mine. Why are you interested?”

He shrugs. “Fascination, I suppose.” He lets out a laugh when you give him a dirty look and he rises from the edge and moves to sit next to you. “Were you ever interested in sex?”

Your legs stretch in front of you and he kicks off his shoes and puts his legs on your bed, legs stretching and reaching past yours. “It just seems scary,” you mutter. You feel his eyes on you and you continue. “The pen- penetrating part and having to be you know-” you gesture to your legs and roll your ankles- “exposed.”

His elbow hits yours. “It’s easier when you’re with someone you know.”

You snort. “Yeah, I guess it would be.”

You bth sit in silence, your heart racing. The pillow is placed next to you and your hands rest and tap against your thighs and you wait patiently for him to say something. You couldn’t have imagined it. You know that Dabi often leaves and returns with a faint scent of perfume. You had a clue as to what he was insinuating. You hoped you had the right clue. Your heart beats and it’s getting harder to breathe, your chest rising and falling in deep rhythms, your palms clammy and you whimper when a rough comes to cup the side of your face and turn your head to meet his.

Your eyes are closed and there’s a fleeting thought that this is all a trick, a little prank on his end to see how willing you would be. And then his lips are on yours and you let out a gasp, going stiff under him and when his tongue darts past your open lips and into your mouth, his tongue grazing yours, you let out a whimper and your legs jerk and come inwards slightly. Your hands move and rest flat against his chest and you pull away and he lets his hand fall from your face and come to hold your hand.

“There a problem?” He asks, his face neutral but concern laced into his words.

“I’ve- You know, I don’t,” you clear your throat and look away from him. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to mess up.”

“You’re not going to. Just relax. We can make out for a bit and leave like that.” He gives you a squeeze and grips your hand, raising it to press your palm against his lips. “We can cuddle if you want. I can leave. Whatever you want.”

Even with a simple touch, you can feel yourself wetten, slick moistening you and making you want. “Can we just try it out?” He nips at your palm, tongue pressing over it when you yelp. “Making out. Just for now.”

You feel him nod against your hand and when you turn around, he’s already started to lean in, eyes close and you swallow nervously before closing the gap yourself, your lips against his and you whimper at the contact, hands coming to rest on his biceps, holding him in a shaky grasp.

The kiss is soft and uncertain on your part. It’s slow and wet and you’re unsure of what to do, following movements after a beat, shaking and arching your back when he rests you on your back and he comes above, pulling away an inch to soothe you with light shushing. His hands wander, sliding upwards and resting under the swell of your breasts, smiling into the kiss when you part your lips and gasp against him.

His hands slide down your tummy and his fingers play with the hem of your shirt until the pads of his fingers press into your soft skin where the shirt has risen. You make a noise of affirmation and his hand slides under your shirt. He breathes deeply against you and he covers a breast with his hand, his mouth leaving yours and coming down to kiss at your neck.

There's a soft heat that starts in the bottom of your belly. You whimper at his touch, your nipples hardening under the soft fabric of your bra and there’s a tingling that runs through your body as his hand slips past the cup and pinches at the bud.

“Tell me when to stop,” he breathes against you, hand slipping away from your breast and coming out of your shirt. You rub your thighs together and shake your head. “Use your words baby.”

“Keep going,” you mutter. You buck your hips and your essence makes for a clean swipe, your cuunt wet and moistening your panties.

“Can I touch your pussy?” Your face flushes at the cude word used to call your cunt. “Hm? Do you want me to run my fingers against your slit?” His hands trail down with each word and he hooks his fingers over the hen of your shorts and when you let out a low moan at the feel of his nails against your hot skin, he slips his hand down your shorts. His fingers rest over the middle of your panties and he hums. “You’re already so wet with a simple kiss.”

“Dabi,” you cry, muffling your words with a bite of your bottom lip.

“I’m not judging. It’s pretty hot if I’m being honest.” His fingers press against you and your hips jerk to the attention. “Have you touched yourself before?”

You nod your head. “But I’ve never- you know. I always quit and it gets to much- ah!” Your back arches as his hand slides under and hot digits press against your wet folds. His taps his fingers lightly and you your walls contract around nothing, arousal slipping past and staining his fingers.

“I’ll make your first one good then,” he says hot against your skin, pressing a kiss against you and he moves his head to stare into your eyes, a hand holding himself up as he rubs his digits against you. “Tell me how it feels, baby. Let me know how I’m making you feel.”

You mewl at his words and his fingers brush against your clit, pushing the hood and circling over, small shocks of pleasure rising over your body. “Feels good,” you murmur, letting out a choked moan when his index slips inside of you, filling you up to the knuckle. “Dabi,” you whine, “I’ve never-” your words are lost as you slap a hand over your mouth, the only audible word heard being “finger” and he pecks at your nose at the confession. There’s soft clicks that sound in the room, muted by your strangled cries as he slides another inside of you, pushing and pressing against your gummy walls, slick sliding past and straining against the articles of clothing that stick to your skin. The stimulation, light and barely gone on for more than a few minutes, has piled on from years lacking and there’s a tightness in your lower belly, slick pooling out and staining you in a wet coating and your hands jerk and claw onto Dabi’s back, moving your head to hide into his shoulder. You sniffle and tears prick your eyes, your muscles tensing. “Too much,” you whimper. “Stop,” you choke out. Your hips buck and walls tense and clench, pulling tightly at his fingers.

“Sh, doll. You’re almost there,” he coos, tilting his head to press it against yours. “Such a greedy, little cunt. You’re practically sucking my fingers inside of you. Bucking your hips and whining. Lower your head, baby. I want to see your face when you cum over my fingers.” He hisses and you feel his hips jerk. “I’m hard just by finger fucking you. Pretty sure you’d make me jizz if I tasted that sweet cunt of yours.” He chuckles and his fingers curl making you arch your back. “You sound so cute. Come on, don’t stop baby. Keep moving your hips. Yes, just like that. What a good, little girl.” You moan at the nickname and he lets out a breathy laugh. “Of course you like being called that. A good, little girl. So slutty and cute. You’re going to cum all over my fingers, right? Let me see that cute face of yours pinch?” He moves himself and your head falls back onto the pillow.

His fingers curl and press, they move inside of you and with one kiss against your lips, you clench around him, whining and raising your hips, tears dotting the corner of your eyelids, your face pinched into an ‘o’ while you orgasm around Dabi’s fingers, calling out his name in a breathy chant, feeling your slick ooze out while his fingers continue to pump, overstimulating you. You shake and cry, hands trembling while your hands clutch him.

Your left shaking and your legs pinch together when he removes his fingers. The heels of your palms cover your eyes and you let out ragged breaths, whining as his hands wrap around your delicate wrists and he pulls your hands away.

“How did that feel?” He asks with a coy grin.

You bring your legs together and your legs feel weak, knees like jelly and if you weren’t already laying down, you’re sure you would have fallen to your knees. You’re breathless, the clench in your stomach gone and replaced with a light feeling. “Good,” you say, only to wince at the lame answer. “I- I didn’t think it would feel like that.” You turn your head and lick your lips. “What about you?” You gesture to the tent in his jeans. “Should- Can I take care of you?”

He turns on his side and your brows furrow. “You don’t have to. We can do it another time.” He cups your face and leans close to you, lips parted until he pulls away and rests on his back. “I can take care of myself.”

“I feel bad,” you mutter. “You took care of me.” You clear your throat and give out a light cough. “I might not be good at giving you a handjob or using my mouth but I can try.”

“Don’t force yourself,” he sighs. “You’re still shaking.” His hand comes down to palm himself and he looks over to you. “Are you interested in watching?” You give him a soft smile and nod your head, swallowing tightly. “Of course, you do.”

He pulls his sweats down, his erection springing free and his hand wraps around his length tentatively, hissing through his teeth as he jerks himself, hand moving rapidly, no soft gestures, no soft fondling that you’ve seen in films and you struggle to sit up, wincing at the stickiness that has now grown cold against your core. You whine and he raises a brow at you, his moans muffled and when you pull his hand away, he starts to say something until you shush him, your hand wrapped around him and he’s much hotter than you would have expected, harder than your imagination and you jerk him slowly, thumb swiping against his slit, spreaading the white pre-ejaculate around his cockhead.

“You’re bigger than I expected,” you murmur, tightening your grip and tugging on him, your other hand cupping his testes, the sac hard under your touch and he bucks his hips. “I think,” you start and lick your lips, “I want to taste you.” You look up at him and tilt your head. “Can I?” He nods and you lower your head. “Thank you,” you mutter against him and kiss his slit, giving him a soft envelope in your mouth, your tongue flat and swirling around him, pushing yourself deeper and hollowing your cheeks. You moan against him, eyes fluttering to a close as his taste enters your mouth. He’s a tad salty, but the warmth in your mouth takes precedence over the other senses. You hum and pull away from him, licking your lips and returning down to him.

He groans under you. His muscles are tense and his hands fist your bed sheets. Something threads through your hair and he groans when you whine. He calls your name, a tight grip in your hair and before you’re able to raise yourself away from him for breath, he shoots down your throat. It’s thick and has a bitter aftertaste. You choke on it and pull away, rich cream dribbling out of the corner of your mouth and you scoop it with a finger, feeling the heavy texture on your finger and you place it in your mouth when you catch his eye.

You clear your throat and blink away the tears. “Did I do good?” You ask, heat burning at your face, and you press the back of your hand to your lips, wiping away the moisture.

“Fucking fantastic,” he breathes. He runs a hand down his face and he flashes you a hungry grin. “That eager to suck on my cock, eh baby girl?” You cover your face with your hands and blush behind your palms. “Come on, it’s cute.”

“Can we just cuddle now,” you groan, wrapping your arms around yourself. You yelp when you’re pulled down, head against his chest, your eyes widen until they soften and your hands squirm to wrap around Dabi’s torso. You keep yourself close against him, clawing at his shirt and pressing yourself close to him.

“‘Course we can,” he mutters. “I promised that to you didn’t I? Whatever you wanted.” You whine at his words and hold him tighter, face flushed and heart beating rapidly, your legs intertwining with his and you stiffen when his hand brushes against your hair. “Relax,” he tells you. “I won’t tease you too hard. Just get some rest, will ya?”

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki headcanons #bnha imagines #dabi imagines #touya todoroki imagines #i hope you like it!!#tamaki's will come tomorrow #gonna make him repressed and shy

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hongism · 4 years ago

Text

mists of celeste ➻ 33.5

➻ pairing for this interim: seonghwa x hongjoong ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, fluff ➻ word count: 4.0k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act four ➻ part 8.5

“You need rest too, Seonghwa.”

Said lieutenant lets his eyes flutter open at the sound of the voice, and he shifts to glance back at the person who just entered the room. It’s Jongho rather than Yunho for once; the damn healer won’t quit popping in to chastise Seonghwa for his less than stellar sleeping habits, but the lieutenant could not care less to be frank. If it’s for his captain, he would do whatever it takes no matter the sacrifice.

“Did you just come back from visiting Yeosang?” Seonghwa inquires instead of addressing the issue at hand. He pulls back a bit from Hongjoong’s bedside, knees scraping hard on the floor in a way that should burn, but his legs have long since gone somewhat numb. It’s a pointless pursuit really because Jongho already saw him pressed so close to Hongjoong’s side with both hands clasped over one of his captain’s clammy and cold ones. Still, it offers at least a bit of peace of mind to turn away and look at someone who is both conscious and responsive.

“I did, yeah.”

“And? How is he today?”

Jongho sways his head from side to side for a moment. Seonghwa doesn’t need to be a genius to understand what that means, but it does help in deciphering the lingering emotion behind Jongho’s red eyes.

“That bad?”

“I wish I could say he was better today but… nightmares.” Jongho inhales sharply. Perhaps Seonghwa should be the one tending to Yeosang’s mental state, but there is a bit of hesitance there because he feels quite a bit of failure himself when he looks at the Elitist. Once upon a time, he had sworn on pain of death that he would take care of Wooyoung and help keep him safe. He failed beautifully at doing even that simple task. Just as he failed you in his promises to keep you safe. As well as the endless promises he gave to Hongjoong about protecting him from harm.

Maybe that is the one thing Seonghwa is doomed to fail at time and time again without cease.

Still, this burden is a lot to put on Jongho’s shoulders, especially as a Berserker and especially since he lost someone himself.

“And you? Are you having nightmares as well?”

“Bold of you to assume that I’m even sleeping,” Jongho quips in response without a drop of hesitation. It stabs a deep gash into Seonghwa’s heart, one the emanates off his shoulders in waves. No doubt Jongho can feel that pain, but he doesn’t let his features shift in the slightest. “But no, I’m not having nightmares. Mingi is… I trust him. I know what he’s capable of and how much he’s willing to fight not only for himself but also for the crew. He is stronger than he knows, and his protective instincts are stronger than the bloodthirsty ones. He will keep them safe, and he’ll keep himself safe in the process. I’ve been sleeping on the couch in Yeosang’s room to help when he wakes up from the nightmares. Hard to sleep when he can barely go ten minutes without having bad dreams.”

“Ah,” Seonghwa exhales, and he needs no further explanation than that.

It is something Jongho used to do for San as well: stay in the young man’s room not long after the mutiny happened because the trauma and horrifying memories that the event resurfaced for San were nearly too much to bear. Jongho stayed in there for several months just to keep the man sane through the night. Seonghwa has never been on the receiving end of Jongho’s comfort, but he has seen the impact of it. Allowing someone to come so close to your heart and trauma is a special thing already, but having someone feel everything you feel while going through those traumatic memories is far more intimate. Despite his all too keen ability to help the crew through moments of emotional turmoil, Jongho rarely remembers to look after himself as well. He still absorbs those negative and overwhelming feelings, but he conceals the pains that he is left with as not to worry anyone. Seonghwa has watched the boy grow up — he knows him well enough to pick the pieces of his cracked shell away and see what’s underneath.

“You ought to sleep here tonight.” It isn’t an offer or something to be considered. Seonghwa might phrase it as one, but the command is in his tone and on his lips. “I’ll sleep in Yeosang’s room in case he wakes up from nightmares.”

“Seonghwa—”

“It is not up for discussion, Jongho.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” the Berserker argues, leveling Seonghwa with a pointed glare. “I’ll ask Yunho to sleep in there tonight, if that’s what will make you feel better. But Hongjoong… Captain could wake up at any minute, and if your face isn’t the first he sees—”

“That’s enough, Jongho.” Seonghwa doesn’t quite like the implication behind that comment. There are too many emotions tied to it, too many past memories that should stay buried in that, and Seonghwa has to swallow to push the growing lump in his throat down. “That will work fine, as long as you give yourself a night off to actually rest.”

“We didn’t leave these empty cots in here for no reason,” Jongho tries again. “At least try to sleep some tonight, if nothing else. We need everyone at high alert for whatever is to come out of this shady ass Spectre and the recovery mission.”

“Okay… okay, I’ll rest too,” Seonghwa relents. Jongho has a point, but the Berserker has always been both quick with his wits and on his feet. Perhaps if Hongjoong doesn’t awaken then —

That thought comes out of the blue, intrudes on his mind, and leaves him choked. Seonghwa clasps a shaky hand over his mouth as a gasp slips out. There is no hiding the sudden wave of emotions that washes over him, not with Jongho in the room, and the Berserker rushes forward to meet Seonghwa on the floor. His knees hit the wood so roughly that it hurts Seonghwa’s ears.

The easiest thing to do would be to get rid of the weak link and ascend to power.

Seonghwa can’t help but slam the heel of his hand down roughly on his temple. It is enough to drive that maddening voice in his head away for now, although moderately concerning to the man kneeling across from him. These thoughts come too easily these days; without Hongjoong there to keep him grounded with constant reminders, Seonghwa finds his hold on the thin thread losing strength with each passing second. Maybe that’s why he can’t truly rest, because he is in the same boat as Yeosang in terms of nightmares.

“Seonghwa…” Jongho’s voice holds warning in it, but the older man pushes that concern to the side and fixes his gaze on the young Berserker.

“I’m okay.”

“You know you can’t lie to me.”

“Yes, but I also know that there is nothing you can do for me, Jongho,” Seonghwa murmurs the words through a smile, and Jongho’s gaze turns almost melancholic.

“I could take it away,” he says, daring to look the lieutenant in the eye.

“Hongjoong gave you orders not to do that.”

“I’ve done it for San in the past. I… did it for Y/N once without her knowing too.”

“That was different, Jongho.” Seonghwa pushes a new resolution into his stare, hoping that it will be enough to dissuade the man. “The emotional and mental pain it would cause you is not something we need right now. Do not think to do it to me now, and certainly do not think to do it to Yeosang either.”

Jongho shakes his head a bit.

“Yeosang will be okay. I trust that. As awful as the nightmares are, it eases a bit to see Wooyoung even for a few seconds in his dreams. You on the other hand…”

Is he weak in Jongho’s eyes? Is that it? Seonghwa lets his gaze drop to the floor, then quickly pushes himself up to his full height. His legs are a bit wobbly at first thanks to how long he had been kneeling before Hongjoong’s cot, but he manages not to make a fool of himself and fall over on the spot.

“I’m perfectly okay, and I will be even better when Hongjoong wakes up. Now please go get some rest.” Jongho exhales a deep sigh but doesn’t fight the lieutenant’s words. Just as he is turning on his heel to leave the room though, a new thought flashes across Seonghwa’s mind, and he calls out after Jongho to stop him. “Also, Jongho — if you could please check in with Y/N, just to see how she is? I think… I think the combination of seeing a person from her past and the stress of the others being gone is weighing on her more than she claims.”

“Of course. I was going to head over there regardless.”

If the relief shows on Seonghwa’s features, Jongho decides not to comment on it and leaves without any further ado. Seonghwa doesn’t turn back to look at Hongjoong’s reclining body until the door snaps shut behind Jongho. The silence that returns is thick and palpable, almost choking the lieutenant with its strength. He weaves around the side of the empty cot beside Hongjoong’s and nudges it carefully forward until the bed lies directly beside where his captain lies. Yunho will surely make his rounds again later, but Seonghwa cannot find it in him to care, even if his actions are grossly pathetic and pitiful on many levels. He doesn’t want to think about how sad it must look to see the renowned Lieutenant of Death stooping so low as to lie beside his captain simply because he cannot handle this prolonged unconsciousness. He isn’t sure there has ever been a period of time like this before where Hongjoong was absent in such a way, not since before Seonghwa met him at least.

Seonghwa slips onto the cold and empty cot, tugging the blanket atop back so he can situate himself underneath, and once he’s fully reclined, he dares to let himself look over Hongjoong’s features.

Relaxed and calm for once. Too often does he see the man with brows knit together in concern and worry. This is a welcome change, even if it comes with having to see scratches and bruises on Hongjoong’s otherwise flawless visage.

Seonghwa twists onto his side and faces the man before stretching a hesitant hand out to comb Hongjoong’s unkempt hair down.

Get rid of the weak link.

There goes that nagging voice again. Seonghwa has to remind himself that it isn’t him necessarily; rather it is the result of amassing rumors and things people have made him out to be over the years.

Hongjoong is many things, but weak is not and could never be one of them.

People call Seonghwa the Lieutenant of Death for a reason, and sometimes he lets himself be consumed by their words and beliefs. According to Hongjoong, that is what caused that little voice to rise and gain power in Seonghwa’s mind. The lieutenant has found himself thinking about the initial conversation that happened well over a year ago more and more these past few days. It is that same memory that comes over him and lives in his dreams when his eyelids finally droop. Seonghwa falls asleep with his hand falling to rest over the steady rise and fall of Hongjoong’s chest, right over where his heart beats on and on beneath the confines of his body.

…

“Do you… do you ever get that voice in your head? The inhumane one who can only be cruel?” Seonghwa asks, tone shaky and unsteady as he presents the question to Hongjoong. The young captain stands across the room with hands trailing over his shelves in search of one book in particular, but Seonghwa’s question stops him in his tracks.

“Yes. Always. More often than not, I listen to it. Kim Hongjoong is not the Scourge of the Black Sea. They are two separate entities — one is merely a captain trying to do what he can for his crew. The other is a monster, cold and heartless who does not know the meaning of mercy or kindness. He kills for sport because it’s fun, easy, ruthless. It’s what he is good at. He works towards a revenge that can never be achieved.”

“That’s not true, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa insists through a slight sigh. He lets his weight fall onto the edge of Hongjoong’s desk, arms coming up to cross over his chest in a way that is meant to chastise his captain, but the other man barely spares him a glance.

“No, but it is what people believe me to be. And if I cave in to their desires and believe them for even a second, then that nasty voice in my head wins. I will be all those things and more. But most of all, I will lose everything I have worked towards all these years. I will lose all the care I have for this crew, the passion and determination I have for my goal, the sheer will to keep on living. The Scourge of the Black Sea has no need for anything of those things, but Kim Hongjoong does. I have to remind myself of that every single day to keep from losing my mind.”

“That’s all it takes?” Seonghwa’s tone holds a certain suspension of disbelief to it.

“Are you Park Seonghwa or are you my Lieutenant of Death?”

“I am yours. Whatever that entails.”

That catches Hongjoong a bit off-guard, and the man actually sputters and fumbles with his next words upon hearing Seonghwa’s quick-spoken statement. He recovers just as quickly though, not leaving any further cracks in his composure, and steps closer to where Seonghwa leans against the desk.

“Allow me to rephrase that question then.” Hongjoong keeps moving forward until there is minimal space left between their bodies, and Seonghwa tries not to be haughty in the way he has to look down to meet his captain’s gaze. “Are you merely what others make you out to be? Or is the Seonghwa who stands in front of me now more than that? More than a bloodthirsty and heartless grunt who cannot think for himself. A failed soldier who is only good at following orders. Someone so cruel that even death itself would turn his back in shame because of the destruction you leave in your wake. Is that the Seonghwa I know?”

“Never,” Seonghwa whispers into the space between them. Hongjoong squints a little and presses ever closer. The elder of the two can feel the other’s breath panting hard against his own lips, and the sensation sends chills down his spine and leaves goosebumps to trail over his arms.

“Never,” Hongjoong echoes through a small smile. “Because my Park Seonghwa is one who is kind and compassionate. A person who loves without fail or error, forgives with too much ease, cares for others more than he cares for himself. Cherishes the loyal and spurns the betrayers. Looks for the good in others yet is quickest to judge himself in times of distress. My Park Seonghwa gives… and gives without even thinking to stop something for himself, and should he ever do what is necessary for his own good, he calls it selfish desire. So no, you are not my Lieutenant of Death. And as long as you remember that, remember why you are not and can never be that entity — that monster who resides deep in your heart and soul — that voice will never win. It will never take over. You will never be what they make you out to be.”

“I cannot remember that without you, Joong,” Seonghwa murmurs. Perhaps he lets too much emotion slip into his tone or he is overstepping his boundaries in their little hierarchy. Hongjoong doesn’t chastise him or ridicule him for the words, though.

“And luckily for you, we spend nearly every minute together. I will — I’ll remind you of it however often you need me to.” Hongjoong draws his lower lip between his teeth and chews at the skin a few times. “I trust you to remind me that I am more than my failures, as you have done so every day since the mutiny.”

The mutiny. They don’t discuss that event. It is too raw, too emotional, too sensitive for Hongjoong. How long has it been now? Three months? Two? Most definitely two, maybe less. It isn’t that Seonghwa doesn’t understand why it is a touchy subject — he merely learned early on not to grow too attached to people in his life. He supposes he is making a mockery of that lesson as he looks deep into Hongjoong’s dark eyes and regards the man with so much care and affection.

Hongjoong begins to drop his chin, but Seonghwa is quicker, hands stretching out to cup the man’s face just under his jaw. He isn’t sure why exactly he does that; something comes over him and causes him to reach out. Hongjoong blinks back at him with wide eyes. The lights in the room reflect off those dark orbs and make Seonghwa see stars in them.

Seonghwa doesn’t realize that his jaw is hanging open until his mouth goes dry, and he chokes on a parched throat as he tries to swallow around nothing. Hongjoong pushes the flat of his hand to Seonghwa’s chest. For a moment, the older man thinks he is trying to push him away and he starts to withdraw his hands, but the Hongjoong pushes ever closer until his knees push between Seonghwa’s.

“You were the first to trust me. The first to join me. The only one who didn’t look down on me. You didn’t treat me like a slave, didn’t amount me to being a former slave, nor did you judge me when you learned of my true class. You, Park Seonghwa, who had nothing in life but a will to live, gave me everything. I may not be able to give you the same in return, but I don’t take that sacrifice lightly.” Seonghwa’s jaw stutters as he tries to come up with the right words to say. All his mind can do is repeat ‘I’m not him, I never will be, I cannot be what he was, I cannot replace him’.

“I’m not Jin,” he says without thinking, and that causes Hongjoong to draw back all of a sudden. Seonghwa’s hands slip away from his face. He draws back so much that the space between their bodies is suddenly infinite, and Seonghwa regrets speaking so fucking much that the sensation nearly cripples him. “Hongjoong, that’s not — I didn’t mean—”

“Perhaps I have done something wrong along the way if you truly believe that is all I would amount you to,” Hongjoong bites out, cutting off the apology on Seonghwa’s lips. “I do not think you to be a replacement of any kind. Yes, Jin and I had a special relationship, we were close, I trusted him. But you, Seonghwa, you have always been more. I told you that when I asked you to be my Lieutenant. You asked why I chose you over him and maybe it is just as simple as the fact that I trust you.”

Hongjoong heaves a deep breath and shifts to blink at the ceiling. Seonghwa gnaws on the inside of his cheek with shame burning his neck and face. When Hongjoong speaks again, he draws closer to Seonghwa once more, this time with more haste and force. He grips Seonghwa’s chin harshly between his fingers, squeezing the skin so hard that it stings a bit. Seonghwa doesn’t dare to move under the captain’s touch though; he lets Hongjoong yank him down to be eye level and stares back without blinking.

“You are treasure, Seonghwa. You have always been a treasure to me, since long before I ever learned that you’re a Siren. Before you, I had nothing to live for or protect except a desperate need for revenge.” Hongjoong’s eyes glisten now. Seonghwa can’t recall even a single instance where he saw the man cry, not even in the aftermath of the mutiny, and that shatters his resolve more than anything else. “I came to want to protect you. And as the crew grew, you taught me to care for them as well, to protect them and cherish them. Jin never taught me that, you did. My Park Seonghwa, my lieutenant, my treasure.”

Seonghwa can’t help himself. He brushes the pads of his fingers over Hongjoong’s cheek as though to merely confirm that the man is real and standing before him. Before he can blink, Hongjoong twists his neck and presses a soft kiss to those lingering fingers. Seonghwa finds himself stunned into a frozen state. The man before him keeps kissing along the length of his fingers, his free hand pulling up to interlock their fingers when he reaches the bend of Seonghwa’s wrist. It is certainly not their first kiss — they shared many fumbling and awkward and meaningless attempts at kisses in their early years along with several small drunken pecks that were given merely as comfort and nothing more. They never had much emotion tied to them, not any romantic ones in the very least. Some went just like this, some were ghosting touches on the head or nose or cheek or even on the lips, few and far between but they certainly added up over the years.

Hongjoong pulls Seonghwa down the rest of the way. When their lips collide, the taste is salty and wet on Seonghwa’s tongue, but he doesn’t stop to think about that. Instead, he throws his arms about Hongjoong’s waist and pulls him to his chest as though to kiss the tears away just like this. Seonghwa hates to say that this one feels different because it could just be something meant to comfort each other now. It could only be different because Hongjoong cries against him now, hands dropping to fumble and grasp at Seonghwa’s shoulders and back as he tries to lessen the already minimal space between their bodies.

They have to pull apart because Hongjoong sobs into Seonghwa’s mouth, and the latter detaches their lips so they can catch their breath. Rather than hiding his face, Hongjoong blinks furiously against the tears and stares Seonghwa directly in the eye without shame or insecurity.

“You once swore to stay by my side for eternity. I never answered you then but I will now, and I won’t ask you to stay or demand that you do that. Whether I live or die, however this journey ends, whether we succeed or fail, I will do it with you no matter what. We do this together or not at all. Whatever together means — should it be as simple as you being on the crew and not caring for me in the slightest, or with you at my side like this.”

God, that hurts so much. It burns Seonghwa’s chest and leaves him with a deep gash that festers and boils over. He can’t bring himself to say anything in response. He knows his own tears are ready to spill down the balls of his cheeks, so rather than making them fall faster by trying to speak, he merely tugs Hongjoong back to him and seals their lips together once more.

✧✧✧ a/n: hi :3 surprise :3 guess who :3 seongjoong time :3 insight time :3 hints and bread crumb trail throughout :3 im playing but fr there are hints there are insights there are emotions and lots of serious talk and i’ve been wanting to write another piece on seongjoong for the longest time so i’m glad this idea came to me and i am even MORE glad that it turned out the way it did! fr this hiatus has been too good to me, i’ve never been more proud of my work than i am now!

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios @nlost21 @mirror-juliet @okokokok123-45 @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @vampire-jimin @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @felixity @rawrrainn @hewwo-from-the-other-side @icekdy

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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whataboutmyfries · 4 years ago

Text

Russian Roulette

Hello hello!!!! I finished this chapter at 1.30 am and was too tired to put it up then, but AHHHH I’m so excited for you to read this one ;) lots of pining, a little magic and the boys generally being idiots.

All credits to @lumosinlove Thank youuuuuuuu <3

tws in the tags!

Chapter 3

Logan sighed, his hair still damp from his shower. He’d always showered after a job. It helped him feel cleaner somehow. He kicked his feet up onto the table, texting Finn about his whereabouts and what he wanted for dinner. He paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

He received Finn’s reply a few minutes later; Meet me outside, there’s something I want to show you.

Logan perked up at that, shopping his gun into the back of his jeans, tugging the oversized hoodie down over his ass to cover it up. Hr grabbed his coat, snagging Finn one of those cola lollipops he liked so much.

He met Finn by the car, a sleek black Lamborghini. The redhead leaned against the matte black door, his red curls slipping over his forehead as he texted somebody on his phone.

“Wanna tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, quirking an eyebrow as he sauntered over to his….friend. Finn’s head snapped up, his expression melting into an easy smile when he saw Logan walking over.

“Not yet. Get in.” Finn said, ducking into the driver’s seat. Logan walked over to the other side, his lips quirking up in a ghost of a smile when he saw the milkshake Finn had got him. The man in question looked over, huffing a small laugh when he saw Logan looking.

“It’s chocolate. With extra whipped cream and chocolate sauce on top.”

Logan’s heart stuttered. Finn had noticed. Not just noticed, but memorised his order. He shoved away the wave of overwhelming feeling that threatened to swallow him whole and picked up the cup. His eyes fell shut at the first sip of cold against his throat.

He’d always gravitated towards the sickly sweet. Tooth-rottingly sugary cakes and coffees and pancakes. Maybe it was to fight the bitter darkness that roiled inside him, maybe it was because he liked the juxtaposition of a vicious criminal digging into a tub of ice cream, or maybe it was simply because he’d liked the sugar.

He was glad to be the one sitting in the passenger seat. He had a perfect view of Finn, a hand resting casually on the wheel, the other resting on the windowsill, scarred fingers tangled in the mess of curls. Maybe Logan liked sweet because of the way the sunlight hit Finn’s eye’s the brown looking like molten chocolate and warm coffee, the way the rays danced through his hair making it look like spun sugar, those lips gleaming like— Logan snapped out of his thoughts, choking a little on his milkshake, He turned away resolutely, turning to fiddle with the radio instead. He leaned forward, reaching out for the volume button when he felt something jab into his thigh.

Logan frowned, leaning back to pull the lollipop from his pocket, nudging Finn’s shoulder with it until he laughed and plucked it out of Logan’s fingers.

“Thank you, Tremz, I love these. Unwrap it for me?” Finn chuckled, the infernal candy hanging between his fingers like those cigarettes he occasionally smoked.

Logan rolled his eyes, grabbing it and ripping the plastic off. “A Big boy mob boss, but he still can’t unwrap his own lollipops. What would your associates say?” He teased, putting the candy into Finn’s waiting mouth. The slight brush of his fingers against his friend’s lips made his heart clench, and he pulled away quickly, his cheeks heating up.

Finn laughed, flicking his tongue around the sweet, pulling the car into an underground parking lot. Logan raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Finn. His eyes crinkled as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, straightening his sweater as he stepped out of the car.

“Wait and watch.”

As it turned out, Finn had taken Logan to a park, the easy winds of spring spreading the smell of churros through the air. Logan smiled as Finn walked them both to the churro truck, grinning at June as he ordered their usual— churros drowning in Nutella.

Logan zoned out of Finn and June’s animated conversation, choosing to ignore their not-so-subtle flirtation in favour of looking around the park. It was a gorgeous day; people walked their dogs or lounged on benches, and Logan idly mused about what life would be like if it were so bloody normal.

He sighed, blocking out June’s tinkling laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. Sometimes he wondered what his life would’ve been like had he not been thrust into this one. It was his father’s fault, really, taking loan after loan after loan from the snakes to keep his family alive. Logan almost scoffed aloud; family? More like drinking habit. Marius had tried, he really had, but it hadn’t been enough. What little savings they’s had after Marius had lost his job had quickly sputtered out, leaving them with little to no choices. And damn him if Logan were to ever allow his sisters to sell their bodies on the streets.

And when money from the loans had run out, well, the snakes had come to collect a debt.

Logan rubbed unconsciously at the scar tissue on his thigh, cringing a little at the memory of Crouch junior’s knife tearing through his leg, skin and muscle ripping under the vicious blade. Logan carried the scar proudly. He had fought like hell to keep his sisters and his mother safe, and damn if he wasn’t proud of the badge he wore as a testament to the fact.

“Thanks, Junebug! We’ll see you around!” Finn called, nudging Logan with a shoulder. “Shall we?”

Logan swallowed the hurt that rose in his throat, smiling at Finn as he grabbed a churro.

“Tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, licking a spot of Nutella off his pinky.

Finn smiled. “Almost there.”

Logan’t interest piqued when Finn led him to a crowd gathered seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Logan raised an eyebrow at Finn.

The redhead winked. “Consider it an early Christmas present”

“Harz, it’s May”

Finn waved him off, shoving a dripping churro into his mouth “Go see” he said, the words a little muffled through the food.

Logan skirted through the crowd, finding his was to the front.

Oh.

Logan’s heart all but dropped out of his chest. He’d never been so glad for his penchant for subtle disguises. His baseball cap pulled low, the aviators hiding most of the top half of his face. He was almost positive he wouldn’t be recognised.

But then Leo looked up.

And the whole world stopped.

Leo didn’t stop his movements for even a second, his fingers flipping the cards swiftly, his lips never stopping the sweet sweet illusion he was spinning for the poor bastard about to lose his money.

But he looked Logan dead in the eye and conned the man out of a full 150 dollars, grinning like the devil as he did it. The man walked away down 150 bucks and a watch.

“How about that gentleman there? Would you like to try, sir? Maybe lady luck will favour you this fine evening” Leo grinned, nodding in the capocrimine’s direction.

Logan smiled, letting a little of the lion show as he eased his way out of the crowd to join Leo in the middle.

“How much would you bet, sir? 50? 100? 150?”

Logan slapped 200 dollars on the table.

“Well well well,” Leo raised a brow. “Let’s play.”

Logan tried very very hard to keep his gaze on the cards, but how could he when Leo’s nimble fingers darted around them looking ever so tantalising. Logan was utterly mesmerised, and by the time Leo asked him to find the Lady, he hadn’t the slightest clue as to where she was.

Logan picked the card closest to his hand. He’d never had a chance in hell, anyway.

Needless to say, by the end of it, Leo had an extra two hundred dollars to his name. As Logan got up to walk away, he heard Leo call out from behind him.

“Sir! You forgot something!”

He turned to find Leo holding his wallet up with two fingers, a mischievous glint in his eye and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Oh he was good.

Logan smiled, stalking back to him. “Ah, stupid of me. Thank you.”

Leo just winked at him as he walked off, their fingers brushing for the fraction of a section when Logan took his wallet back.

He spotted Finn amongst the people immediately, grinning like a damn fool as he walked over to him. Logan opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again.

“I know.” Finn said. “I know”

The quiet joy in Finn’s eyes damn near killed Logan, and it was an effort of self-control to not kiss him right there. No. He was impossible. Logan could never have him. They were mob bosses. It would be hell to pay if the world ever found the one thing he’d save above all others.

Logan ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the brown curls. He frowned at the scratch of paper under his sleeve and pulled the fabric up to find a card underneath. His breath caught, and he turned it over to find the queen of hearts sitting there.

Oh, this was going to be fun .

Logan’s grin widened at the message scrawled across the lady with thick black ink. In Leo’s slanting script it read;

Better luck next time.

#tw:injury #tw: alchohol mention #tw: prostitution mention #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #oknutzy #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #Leo knut #russian roulette #my writing #whataboutmyfries

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kur0samu · 4 years ago

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distractions

genre: fluff; established relationship

pairings: fem!reader x kuroo tetsurou

word count: 1.29k

20. “i love you, but i need you to go away because you’re really bloody distracting and i have to pass this test tomorrow.”

a/n: welcome to the mess that’s my blog! leave it up to my simp ass to make the first thing written on this blog about kuroo

slumping down into the chair placed beside your boyfriend, your usual table goes quiet as they take in your sulking expression, faces scrunching not a second later at the screeching noise your chair produced as you dragged it closer to the table.

“now that we’re all deaf, why don’t you tell us what’s wrong?” your boyfriend asks, sending you an amused smile as the frown on your face deepens upon hearing his words.

at this, it’s like a dam breaks, and the words are rushing out of your mouth with no space left for breathing. “i didn’t pay attention in class today and now i’m regretting it because that damn witch says that she’s gonna give us a pop quiz tomorrow based on what she taught today which i have absolutely no. idea. about.”

“tough life, y/n,” lev starts, immediately wincing at his words as he catches the sharp glare you throw at him. “i-i mean, how dare she do that... blasphemous.”

as puny as you looked beside that 194cm giant, lev knew that getting on your bad side was not going to go well for him. flashbacks of you chasing fukunaga around the campus after he splashed water on you and yamamoto, looking absolutely feral, was still imprinted in his mind, and he reminded himself that he never wanted to get on your bad side.

of course, you being the volleyball team captain’s girlfriend also didn’t make you any less intimidating.

“what subject is it for again?” kenma finally speaks up while lowering his phone, the word ‘VICTORY’ flashing on his screen.

“math.”

exclamations of disgust sound around the table, and kuroo reaches over to pat your head. “sorry baby, but i don’t think that’s any of our expertise. you’re all on your own.”

“yea, i figured,” you mutter, sniffling as you nibble on the sandwich you had forgotten to eat during your lunch break.

“if you want, i can keep you company while you do your work?” your boyfriend suggests helpfully, feeling his heart swell with love as he sees your eyes light up almost immediately.

“really?” you exclaim, your bad mood forgotten almost instantly at kuroo’s words. “you’d do that for me?”

"of course. who else would do it if not for me.” placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he links your hands with his, before pulling back to smile at you.

your little moment is interrupted by the sound of gagging all around the table—even kenma looked mildly disgusted. it wasn’t everyday they saw their scheming and insufferable captain display any type of affection.

“that’s our cue to leave,” yaku announces, gathering his things. “we’ll see you love birds tomorrow. all the best for your test, y/n.”

“thanks mum,” you reply cheekily, watching the libero’s face grow red.

“now,” kuroo starts, already getting up from his seat. you watch in confusion as he grabs his bag, slowly moving away from the seat. realisation dawns on you, but it’s already too late, as you hear the familiar sentence leaving his mouth while he runs away from you. “last one to the library is a baboon’s butt!”

“that’s cheating!” you scream, running after your boyfriend’s retreating figure.

safe to say, you were the baboon’s butt that day.

“psst, y/n,” your boyfriend calls out to you for the seventh time in the past two hours. this time, he nudges your foot with his, earning himself a glare from you.

“what do you want, kuroo,” you ask, not looking up from the sum you were trying to solve. if looks could kill, the paper situated in front of you would have gone up in flames with how hard you were staring at it in a desperate attempt to understand whatever the heck was going on.

it didn’t help that your boyfriend was starting to get restless.

“i’m bored,” he says with a pout, not having done much the past two hours, except finish his own homework. “let’s take a break!”

“i can’t,” you reply with a sigh, finally flipping to the next page. “i still have more than halfway to go, and i need to finish this by tonight.”

with a small ‘hmph’, kuroo goes back to making little paper hearts out of the papers you had discarded at the side, realising that you were not going to entertain him anytime soon. his arm makes contact with yours every so often due to how closely he was sitting beside you, giving him the temporary satisfaction he wanted.

but ten minutes later, even the paper hearts have bored him out, and kuroo has taken to staring at you with his head resting on his hand, while the other drummed rhythmically on your thigh.

not being able to take your boyfriend’s antics anymore, the pen you were holding clatters onto the table, as you shift in your seat to face the man-baby you were with. “tetsurou, i love you, but i need you to go away because you’re really bloody distracting and i have to pass this test tomorrow.”

and you’re not sure if you want to kill or kiss him when he shoots you a smirk, responding with a “i love you too, baby”.

nonetheless, you don’t seem to be able to stop the heat engulfing your face, causing kuroo’s smirk to widen. “let’s make a deal.”

you shoot him a questioning look, and the words that follow next makes you freeze in your spot.

“give me a kiss and i’ll stop distracting you.”

your eyes widen, and you hit his arm out of habit. “are you kidding me?! we’re in the library, kuroo testurou!”

shrugging, his eyes flash playfully as he goes back to leaning against his hand and staring at you. “if that’s your choice.”

knowing how stubborn he could be, you take in a deep breath and look around the library, trying to scout out for anyone who could potentially be a witness for the sin you were about to commit.

kuroo’s smirk widens as he takes in your actions, but even the smug expression can’t hide the fondness in his eyes.

when you’re sure that no one was around, you reach forward and give your boyfriend a peck, moving away as quickly as you had done so.

“okay, i’ve given you what you want. now will you let me stu-”

but before you can finish your sentence, you’re pulled back into his arms, and his lips meet yours in a soft kiss. all words die in your mouth as you melt into the kiss, unconsciously shivering as his cold and rough hands caress your cheeks.

the sound of someone clearing their throat is what drags you back to reality, and you jump away from the boy beside you as if you had been burnt. whipping your head around, you see the grumpy librarian staring at the both of you with what someone could only explain as rage.

and that’s how the both of you were banned from the library for the rest of the semester.

“this is all your fault, tetsu. i’m breaking up with you,” you whine, your actions contradicting your words as you reach out to take your boyfriend’s hand.

“that’s cute, love,” he says nonchalantly, swinging your hands back and forth. “anyway, we can always go to your house.”

“you just want my mum’s cooking,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes when you catch the guilty smile on his face. “whatever, just don’t distract me while i study. i’m serious, kuroo. i really need to pass the test.”

“give me five kisses every hour and i promise not to disturb you.”

catching the sly smile on his face, you shake your head before smiling, clutching his hand a little tighter. “you have yourself a deal.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #ivyscribbles

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