#would you give it up to tangle yourself in the events of

[pandoraslxna]

📝 quaritch + size kink (human reader)! could u possibly do noncon for it? im curious to see how you'd write this! 🫶

Miles Quaritch x female human reader, minors dni 🔞

Warnings: non-con, captivity, humiliation, size kink, cum eating

This turn of events would’ve been funny, if it weren’t for you bent over the desk in the interrogation cell, captured by the RD-fuckin‘-A. The waistband of your half-removed pants hanging around mid-thigh, your shirt shoved up to your neck, arms uncomfortably bent and handcuffed behind your back.

And there’s also this fucker. Quaritch. One of his hands is pushing you down against the cold surface of the table, the other slithering over the wet, flushed heat between your legs. You're dripping on the floor, two orgasms wrenched out of you by his thick calloused hands and he doesn’t give you the impression that this will be over any time soon.

"Jesus, sweetheart, got my own little ocean here", he snickers, tapping your oversensitive clit with his rough digits. Your knees go weak; say what you want about him, but he knows what he's doing. Still, you haven’t given him anything of use.

But it’s the sound of a zipper being pulled down that makes you question how long it is going to take for you to reveal Jake’s location. To tell him on which island he’s hiding, which clan is giving him shelter.

"Loyal as a dog, huh? We‘ll see about that."

Had someone ever postulated to you that the human body could stretch as much as yours was doing now, you would have denied the possibility. But Quaritch seemed very eager to show you just how little you know about your own body.

His biceps alone was about as wide around as your waist. He could snap you in half, if he wanted. More trouble than it's worth, but it still felt as if he was trying to. But not with his hands, no. He was daring to tear you apart with his cock.

A sudden thrust of his hips drives that massive slab of flesh fractionally deeper into your already stuffed cunt, drawing a whine from your gagged mouth. The action threatens to send your legs out from beneath yourself, a result that would force you to your knees and would ultimately make you find out about if your throat could stretch as much around his length as your cunt was currently struggling to.

Quaritchs free hand rakes over your back and tangles in your hair, pulls you up and forces you to look back at him. "Maybe I should get you a collar", he chuckles. "You'd look so fuckin' sweet in pink. Only fair, since everyone already calls you Sully‘s rabid bitch."

There’s a muffled cry coming from you as your body stretches to accommodate still more of his length, the warring pain and pleasure a heady mixture that you’re afraid to become addicted to as he thrusts into you. It’s this sensation that’s pulling an orgasm from you. Body threatening to shake apart with the force of it, Quaritch watches through hooded eyes as you come around his cock, sticky arousal beading and dripping down around his base.

You're still breathing heavily when you feel hot spurts of cum painting your insides white. When he pulls out of you, you whine at the sudden loss, the painful emptiness. But then you feel his thumb, swirling around in the filthy mixture of fluids coating your entrance.

Quaritch then steps around the table you’re still laying on, limb as a ragdoll, before he roughly removes the gag and presses his tumb between your lips.

He smirks in terse approval when you begin to lick it clean.

You can play his games, but you wouldn’t tell him anything. He looks like he wants to tell you to lick his cock clean too, just for the sake of humiliating you, but you know, deep down he decides not to push his luck. Good for him. If he had, you may as well have damned the consequences and bitten it off.

#lunas10kfollowercelebration #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader smut #atwow quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader smut #quaritch #quaritch smut #quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch #recom quaritch

[frantic-fiction]

Secluded Evening 18+

(GIF: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+ MDNI pretty much pure smut, fluff, nipple piercings, nipple play. Skinning dipping, unprotected sex, Late Act 1 Astarion

Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion's first time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.

Word Count: 2.8k

The shadow curse land is just a few days west, and a sickly feeling has crept through the camp. The party is on edge, fighting a constant headache as you attempt to mediate the tension in a group of solid personalities during highly stressful events. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are at each other’s throats, bickering and pulling daggers when either sends a quip in the other's direction. Karlach is still burning hot despite her upgrade, and with Dammon already far along the path, all you can do is promise to get her to Baldur’s Gate as quickly as you can. Wyll is fine, but he’s Wyll, so that’s not surprising.

Gale, however, might be the one pushing your buttons the most, or at least he is testing your patience past your limit now. “Tav, I don’t believe I have to express again how important it is to acquire a magical artifact soon.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you get the sudden urge to whack him over the head with the book you held unread in your hands. “I will be glad not to have to feel my chest be ripped in two, but I will repeat: if I do not consume an artifact, I will die and level the general vicinity with me.”

You push off the log, slamming the novel down. Level-headedness has been one of your strong suits. It’s the main reason you found yourself leading these misfits across the kingdom. You can keep your cool under the most extreme sources of stress, but everyone is just annoying you today.

“Look, I get it. You need a shoe to chew on, or you’ll go boom. But guess what? I have given you every spare artifact I have to give. Our coins are down to silver and copper. So unless you are willing to chomp down on the stupid circlet you just ‘had to get,’ then you can suck it up and wait until we reach another town.” By the end, you’re yelling, and Gale looks like a kicked puppy. The rest of the camp has turned to look at your outburst. You burn with regret for everything immediately.

You reach out a tentative hand, “Gale, I didn’t—”

“No, you are absolutely right. Apologies for my inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Tav.” He quickly returns to his tent and pins the flaps close.

Sighing, you rub your hands down your face. You feel terrible; Gale’s condition is excruciating, and you hate to be unable to get him something to alleviate the pain, but your supplies are down to the bone. “Fuck,” you breathe, picking the book back up and storing it away.

“I must say, my sweet, I could get used to this more dominating personality of yours. It certainly gets me excited.” Astarion practically purrs in your ear. You turn face to face and stumble back slightly at his proximity.

Brushing your hair behind your ears, you avoid his eye contact. A warmth spreads across your face. “Oh, I'm sure,” you smirked, clearing your throat and recovering quickly.

It was a game between you two, ignited on the beach with a knife to your throat. Harmless flirts, playful banter with no attention to go further. Attraction is thick, but neither dares to press in this dance.

He crowds into your space. His nose practically tickles yours. He plays with your hair, fingers tangling in the locks. His face dawns an emotion of concern. “Darling, I’ve noticed you’ve been very stressed these last few days.”

His breath fans your face. You grab the edge of his shirt. “I think it would be a good idea to release some tension. Some alone time, maybe?” His pointer finger traced the bone of your jaw.

You smirk and pull away, trailing your hand up the contours of his chest. “You're right.” His wicked grin widens like a cat playing with prey. “I think I'll call in early and have a night to myself. I hope you will be okay hunting tonight.”

When you were scouting the perimeter, you stumbled across a small alcove. It was breathtaking. Several willows enclosed a small lake, water beautifully sparkling in the sun. You love swimming and have been thinking about the lake ever since. You occupy yourself with finishing your book until the sun sets. Once the camp settles for the night, you grab your pack and sneak your way out to the forest line.

Astarion’s grin drops, and his arms go limp. You slip away, lifting the edge of your tent. “Thank you again. Do you mind telling the others as well?”

He glares knowingly, and with a wink, you drop the flap and sit on the floor. You gather your supplies: a change of clothes, your only towel, and your washing bag.

The lake isn't too far, and before you know it, you're there. It's different in the moonlight. Fireflies buzz around the cattails, the willow branches sway softly above the water, and frogs croak on lily pads. You set a blanket to place the rest of your stuff around, quickly tossing your clothes off and wading into the water.

It's not as cold as expected, but you still gasp at the initial sting. You adapt quickly and soon dive fully, submerging into the fresh water. You stay underwater; ears plugged, giving a warped vibration through your head. Once your lungs begin to burn, you surface and gulp air.

“Well, isn't this just a coincidence?” Astarion chuckles, standing at the shore with pale forearms crossed over his chest. “I was just out on my hunt when I came across such a delectable treat.”

You bite your bottom lip, pulling your hands back and forth, sucking water in and out around your form. “Well, now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

You move onto your back and float, exposing your entire front half to his eyes. The water on your skin chills in the air. Your nipples pebble, and you hear a groan.

Floating in the water, you close your eyes. It's quiet momentarily before a large splash startles you and you're pulled under. You kick instinctually, and Astarion grabs your foot and drags you closer.

His strong arms circle your waist, and you resurface. You smack his chest. “You asshole.”

He laughs, and before you know it, you're laughing too. You sway in Astarion's arms as he carries you deeper into the lake. Grabbing a flower floating in the water, you begin to pick some of the limp petals. You look up and slide the flower into his hair. It's adorable.

Astarion pinches your chin and pulls your face close, staring deep into his eye. There are no words; you feel the line shatter when the reality of what's happening sinks in. There is no performance in his eyes. No formulaic flirtatious lines or sexy words. What is happening? You don't know, but when he crashes his lips to yours, you really fucking want to find out.

It's like a rubber band. The kisses open the damn, and soon your legs are wrapped around his hips. One hand threads through his pale curls, the other encircling his neck.

Astarion breaks from your lips and trails sloppy kisses down to your neck. "I have waited long enough to ravish you, my dear,"

And then you are moving; he's quickly wading through the water, not once removing his lips from your throat. You know it will bruise, and the idea of another mark of his sends heat lower down your body.

You sigh when Astarion nips your neck, pressing you down on the blanket. Wet skin slides against damp skin. Grabbing his hair, you pull him back up, capturing his lips. It is messy, sloppy, and all too much to handle.

You arch up, pressing your breast against his chest. He pauses, and you whine when he pulls away.

"What are these?" Astarion practically growls, pinching your hard nipple. You gasp his name as he twists the small metal bar through the nub. He grinds his hips against your leg. He's hard, his cock presses against his stomach.

"Jewelry," you moan, clutching his shoulder. "They make me more sensitive."

"Oh, my naughty girl," he lowers to take your neglected breast into his mouth. His skillful tongue sucks your breast, his hand paying equal attention to your other. Feeling a scrap of his fangs, you let out a cry of ecstasy, rolling your hips, seeking any source of friction.

Astarion pins your hips down and pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. "No, no, my sweet. I think you have not been fair keeping least lovely tits from me. I can't remember ever seeing such unique body modifications." He gives a sharp bite to your breast, just deep enough to pierce the skin.

Droplets of blood beaded to the surface; it was quickly lapped up with his tongue, a groan crawling its way up his chest. He slips one of his legs under yours, and his hips slide his stiff cock between sopping wet folds. You choke out his name, and his mouth moves to the other breast. "I think I'm owed a bit longer exploring such a beautiful chest."

"My, my, you're so responsive. I could spend hours pleasing you with my tongue." Astarion trails his tongue up between your breasts, eyes boring up into your flushed face. "Just imagine the delightful words I could pull from your beautiful lips as I lay between your thighs, playing your exquisite body like a bard's violin."

Your breath is uneven, panting while Astarion takes his time lavishing your breasts. Soon, your nipples are on fire, swollen from the ruthless attention Astarion has provided. Tears sting your eyes. You are desperate for anything, nothing; you are not sure, but you are moaning and pleading up into the night air. All available skin was victim to your desperate fingers.

"Starion, ugh-please, they're too sensitive." You tug at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips tug the metal bar just enough to pull another cry from your lips. He releases your breast with a wet pop.

You bite his neck (almost the same spot he uses to feed from you) and all semblance of his control dissolves—you're back on the blanket in a show of Astarion's speed. Air was knocked from your lungs. "Fuck, my dear," Astarion grinds against you coating his cock in more of your juices. "I believe we've waited enough time to enjoy each other. So, I think I fuck you, deep and slow, until you can only scream my name. And if you're lucky, spend the rest of the night pulling lovely whimpers from your over-sensitive cunt."

His husky voice purred in your ears. Your thighs clench, arousal dripping onto the blanket. "Star," you breathe out, grabbing his face and crashing your lips together. Teeth clashed, and tongues fought for dominance. Wrapping your legs fully around Astarion's slim hips, you roll up. Using his distraction as leverage, you twist your hips and maneuver the two of you.

Astarion is now on his back, curls silver in the dark, and his eyes are wide with shock. You comfortably sat on his hips, hands pressing on each of his pecs. "You have my full permission to do that, but if you don't fuck me right now, I will be taking care of myself in my tent." Lips are back on his before you chuckle in his ears. "We have teased each other for months. I think it's about time you do something about this pretty boy."

Astarion doesn't leave a moment to respond before he impales you with one deep thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Astarion grabs your calf, raises your leg, and sets a brutally slow pace.

You were matching each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. Your mouth at his chest and throat, sloppily leaving kisses and spit on his pale torso. "Ug-fucking Gods, you so tight," The sounds of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of pleasure break up the quietness of the lake.

Astarion presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your whimpers of ecstasy. The force of his thrusts is jostling your breasts; your nipples rub against his cold skin.

The moans roll off your tongue; you put a hand into his hair. "A-astarion fast…faster," you choke, snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies to rub small circles over your clit. The warm tightening coils in your lower abdomen. "P-please, Star."

"Beautiful." Astarion's pace picks up, his balls slapping against your pussy. He quickly pushes your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own.

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and the cold pierce of his fangs digs into your throat. You choke on gasp, hips stuttering. Astarion is dragging, mouthfuls of your blood down his throat, his fingers picking up pace, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The coil is tightening, and soon, you cannot form words outside of Astarion's name between pleases. "Oh, my sweet girl, so lost on my cock. I...fuck...I know it feels good."

He pinches your left nipple again and you whimper. "Your body is exquisite. I won't be able to last much longer, my love." His voice is hoarse, and he rambles between frantic ruts. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

Astarion presses kisses and licks to the hollow of your throat. He is asking for permission, and you quickly press him closer. "Yes, please," you groan. All the sensations Astarion was giving you were becoming too much. You were quickly approaching the edge.

The pain mixes with pleasure, and it's too much. Tears prick at your eyes. You ticken around hos cock and a rumble ruptures through his chest. He takes a few more gulps before pulling away. Astarion's tongue licks, ensuring no waste of your blood.

As soon as he pulls away from your neck, he's pushing his tongue into your mouth with a quick thrust—the metallic tang of your blood mixes between your mouths. "I'm close," you breathe, running your nose against his. Your panting, feeling like no breath can satisfy your burning lungs.

His thrusts are becoming sloppy, devolving into more grinds of hips. His fingers drag over your clit in tight, fast circles. "Me too," he's just as breathless, hips stuttering with pleasure. "Come for me, darling, let me hear you."

It's like your body was waiting for his honey-slick words to give you permission. Because the moment those words leave his devilish lips, you snap. You scream his name, legs pulling him close.

You didn't expect post-sex cuddles from Astarion, but gods, you could fall in love with this man if you weren't careful. But would that be too bad? To fall in love? You kiss his collarbone and pull your towel over the majority of your body.

With one, two, three more deep thrusts. Astarion comes with a breathy moan spilling deep into your core. You two lay there, tangled in each other's body. Hearts are pounding as you breathe each other's air.

Astarion pulls out and rolls to his back. You curl onto his chest, laying your ear over his silent heart. He plays with your hands and peppers kisses over your hairline.

You wish to stay the night in his arms right here, just having him hold you. But Astarion stiffens slightly when a shiver rolls through your body. It's like the bubble of serenity pops. Astarion is quick to remove himself from you.

"I don't believe cuddling wet and naked with a vampire is good for one's health." He's pulling his clothes on. And reluctantly and with shaky legs, you follow his lead. Astarion is quiet on the walk back, lost in thought. He plays with a coin mindlessly.

You don't push, knowing Astarion better than to pry. So you let him walk you to your tent. And just as you move to duck into your bed for sleep, Astarion grabs your wrist.

You turn and look up into his scarlet eyes. His expression is hard to read; his confusion, hesitancy, affection, and anger are fluidly behind his eyes. They could all fit, but nothing seemed to reflect Astarion's eyes. "I…" He pauses, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. He opens his mouth again but clicks it back close. Astarion searches your eyes as if they held the answer to his unspoken question.

Astarion doesn't seem to find what he's looking for because he shakes his hand—pressing a light kiss to the apple of your cheek. He drops your hand reluctantly. "Have a good night, my dear,"

Then he's gone, leaving you alone, the tingle of his lips still lingering on your skin. Your fingers trail across your cheek, and a small smile stretches your lips. Yeah, you could very easily fall in love with that man. Maybe you already have.

Okay let me know what you thought? I haven't written smut in forever and have never been super confident in it.

If you liked this how about checking out my other two Astarion pieces.

Happy Birthday **** Reoccurring Nightmares

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #reader insert #fanfic #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #smut #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #astarion smut

[girasollake]

Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.

She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date

Thank youuu!

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x

told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it

i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.

‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’

‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’

¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.

‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.

‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’

‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.

SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’

You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.

‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.

‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.

You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.

‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘I have a question.’

‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘

‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’

‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’

‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.

Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.

‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.

‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.

‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’

‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.

‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.

‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.

‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’

‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.

His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.

He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.

‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’

‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.

‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’

The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.

He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.

He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.

‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.

‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.

‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’

‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.

‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.

You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.

Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.

He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.

‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.

His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.

‘I lied.’ You mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’

‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’

‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’

‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’

‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’

‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

@ girasollake 2024

#imagine #x reader #🤍 - girasollake writing event ☾ ⋆* #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott smut #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x fem!reader

[littlexdeaths]

i called her on the phone and she touched herself - e.m.

ghostface eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: voyerism, mutual masturbation, phone sex, eddie’s a perv but we’re into it, alluding to a knife kink, lots of scream references

i ended up taking a look at this fic today and making some little tweaks and i love it so much more now. this is another repost from my old account but i promise new content will be coming soon. enjoy xx.

word count: 1.5k

The phone rings, loud and shrill in your ear.

It sound causing you to flinch in surprise, heart thudding in your chest as you reach for the receiver. The cheesy horror movie playing on your small tv set now forgotten as you pick up the line.

“Hello?” Your voice sounds a little breathless, a deep chuckle resounding in your ear.

“Hello sweetheart.”

The voice on the other end was husky, smooth yet confident. “Who is this?” You feign a bored tone, your thighs squeezing together unintentionally.

You’d never been so attracted to someone’s voice before— and he’d only spoken two words to you. But something about it felt oddly… familiar.

“Were you expecting a call from someone?” The male asks, shifting slightly on your bed to glance at your bedside clock. 8:43 PM.

Steve would still be working at the video store, or he was supposed to be. Unless he decided to prank call you during a lull in customers. Which could very well be a possibility.

“Maybe… why do you wanna know?” Your tone is overly flirty as you decide to play along. The call now much more exciting than the movie playing out on your tv screen.

You’d never take a suggestion from Keith ever again.

“Hm, a pretty girl like you must be waiting on a call from a boyfriend?” You can’t help but laugh at that notion, serious relationships weren’t your thing. As attractive and persistent as Steve was, a relationship is the last thing you wanted to tangle yourself in right now.

But he clearly was still trying too hard.

You breathe out a heavy sigh, “Nope, no boyfriend.”

Despite being a usually observant person, you still weren’t aware of the eyes trained on your half naked figure. The dark cloaked figure watching from the tree that faced your bedroom window, “Mm, lucky me then.”

You glance back at the screen as the music begins to swell, hinting that one of the teenagers would be killed off at any moment. A loud scream fills the room, as the killer takes the camp counselor by surprise.

“What’s that sound?” He asks, unable to see the television from his vantage point. “Oh, just a movie.”

The male hums deeply, the sound causing you to squirm against your bedsheets. Heat pools in your lower belly as you mindlessly let your fingertips dance along the edge of your lace panties.

“What kind of movie?” He probes, his dark eyes now drawn to your thighs.

You begin shifting, laying back against your pillows. Resting the receiver between your ear and shoulder as you spread your legs open. Unintentionally giving him the perfect view as you dip your fingers past the flimsy material. The sight causes his cock to stir beneath his dark jeans.

“A scary one.” You reply, despite this being the least scary thing you’ve ever seen.

Eddie grins beneath the white ghostface mask, sheathing his blade once more before he reaches for the zipper on his pants. Tugging it down to free his hardened cock, pulling his mouth away from the phone to spit into the palm of his hand. Now wrapping it around his thick length as your fingers begin circling over your clit.

While the brunette had come here with the intention to scare you… this turn of events was much more interesting.

“Oh, you like scary movies?”

He grins, enjoying how your voice seems to shake over the line, but not for the reason he initially expected.

“Y-Yes…” Only pleasure laces your tone.

Eddie inhales deeply, watching as you twirl your fingers around the phone cord with your other hand. The light of the television illuminating your body with an almost ethereal like glow, “Hmm, what’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, now shoving your soaked underwear down your thighs. Kicking them off the edge of your bed as you dip a finger inside yourself. Chewing on your lower lip to hold back the moan you wanted to let escape as you eagerly slip another digit inside.

This wasn’t the first time you’d touched yourself like this with Steve on the other end of the phone, but this was by far the most exciting.

Little did you know the male on the other end was definitely not Steve Harrington.

Dropping the twisted cord you grip the receiver in your unoccupied hand, eyes fluttering shut as you begin pumping your fingers deep inside yourself. Letting your thumb brush over your swollen clit as you curl your fingers up.

“Halloween.” You breathe, a low grunt sounding on the other end of the line as the male strokes his cock in tandem with each thrust of your fingers. The slick sounds reverberating softly through the receiver.

“Is that the one with the guy in the white mask who walks around stalking babysitters?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer himself.

A soft ‘mhm’ leaving you as you revel in his throaty moans.

“I liked that one… it was scary.” His voice drops an octave, Eddie unintentionally slipping into his dungeon master voice.

Keeping the cell phone tucked into his shoulder as he adjusts himself between the tree branches. Increasing the pace of his fist as he continues to watch you pleasure yourself through your window.

The movie playing out on your tv screen is now long forgotten as his deep voice is the only thing you can focus on.

“I like that thing you’re doing with your voice, Steve. It’s sexy.” You whimper, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of bliss. No longer able to keep up the oblivious act anymore.

Eddie chuckles darkly, sending a shiver up your spine. “Oh sweetheart, this isn’t Steve.”

As much as those words should frighten you, it only seems to increase the tightening in your lower belly. The jealous edge to them causes a high pitched whine to leave your lips, pumping your fingers even faster into your dripping heat. Increasing the pressure on your clit, as the male’s deep moans fill your ears.

“God you little slut, you gonna cum f’me?” He growls, feeling his own orgasm drawing near.

His cock twitches in his rough palm as he observes your lower half lifting up off the mattress. Thighs trembling as your orgasm washes over you, milky white spilling over onto his ringed fingers.

Heavy breathing is all that is passed back and forth between the two of you for a moment, your body falling limp against the mattress.

“Fuck, you look so pretty when you cum baby…” while it was whispered into the phone, you still heard it.

You recognized the husky voice instantly— the pretty but rugged metalhead who always gave you a discount on your weed.

Eddie Munson.

Your eyes instantly snap open, dropping the phone as you sit up. Letting your fingers slip from your drenched core as you rise to your feet. Padding over to your bedroom window and gazing out into the dark night.

Catching sight of a white ghostface mask in between the branches opposite your window. Your eyes meet as you reach back over for the phone, your juices smearing over the handle as you grab onto it. Amusement dancing over your features as you tilt your head at him.

“Do you spy on all the girls you deal to, Munson?” You pause, clearly catching the male off guard, “Or am I a special case?”

Eddie doubles back, stuttering out a reply as he attempts to disguise his voice once more but it was too late— you caught him.

“I promise this isn’t what it seems, sweetheart.”

A small giggle leaves your lips as he fumbles his way down from the tree, removing the mask so he could see properly. His bangs stick to his forehead, pale skin flushed pink under the bright moonlight.

He drops the phone and his knife in his haste, the glint of the blade catching your attention. The way the sharp metal reflects in the light makes your heart race, arousal coursing through your veins. Licking your lips as he picks up the dropped items, his brown eyes meeting yours through the glass.

“I think I know why you came here Munson…” you hum into the receiver once he returns the phone to his ear, your sultry tone making his cock stir in his jeans again.

“Why’s that sweet thing?” He bites back, his dark eyes not leaving your silhouette.

“Someone wants to play psycho killer… but it looks like you need a helpless victim.”

You lean your forearms on your windowsill, noticing the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows down a moan. His ringed fingers gripping tightly onto the handle of the blade, the male desperately hanging on your every word. “I’m more than happy to oblige.”

Eddie curses, your words going straight to his now throbbing cock. There was no way he was passing you up on this offer.

“Now… tell me Mr. Ghostface, what do you want?” You feign a frightened tone as you pose the question.

His shallow breaths mingling with the static on the line, anticipation bubbling up inside you.

“I wanna know what your insides feel like.” He groans, his words sending heat straight between your legs. Squirming as you watch him pull the mask down over his face, glancing back up at you with a predatory look.

“Then come and find out freak.”

Click.

#the freak writes 🫧 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #ghostface!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #ghostface!eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie x reader

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 DRIVE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: against all odds, you come across dazai osamu again, and you somehow find yourself roped into being his date for an event celebrating the armed detective agency. you're not falling. you swear. (you're lying). {wordcount: 9.2k; fem!reader, sfw, romance}

AUTHOR'S NOTES part 2 is hereeeeee! i hope you guys enjoy, this scene had one of my favs to write so i hope you like it too!! reblogs definitely appreciated!! i’ll reblog with the taglist as soon as it decides to show on the dash & in the tags!

SEE: BADLANDS SERIES MASTERLIST READ: UNREAL UNEARTH SIDE B

“We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You aren’t sure how you feel as you stare at the man hanging upside down, tangled in a tapestry—amused, concerned, partly puzzled, a combination of all three really. Dazai Osamu looks half out of it as his gaze focuses on you; you wonder how long he’s been hanging like this, and how he managed to get in this position in the first place. 

For the second time in two weeks, the man manages to catch you off guard, this time on your way home from a date that had gone horribly, horribly wrong with a classmate; you’d already spent the past two hours wandering the streets upset over all of this and you were ready to get home, but now you find yourself hesitating.

“Ah, my sweet, sweet belladonna, my lovely savior,” Dazai sighs, directing a quick, flirty smile toward you. “Won’t you help a poor, suffering man?” 

“How did you manage this, Dazai?” you ask, letting the entertainment slip into your tone to distract yourself from the stress of the failed date as you look around and try to figure out the best way to get him down from where he’s entangled. You’d have to climb up onto the nearby dumpster to get enough reach to cut him down but you don’t even have anything to cut him down with. 

“I tried to jump off that building,” he sighs, and you follow his gaze up to the tall building right to the left of the two of you. Your lips part in shock, you suppose you should have figured something like that because how else would he end up tangled upside down in a tapestry, but it’s still jarring to hear. “But I hit this on the way down and got stuck. I’ve been here for way too long, so many people have passed me by without helping—what a cruel, cruel world.”

“You are either the luckiest or unluckiest man alive,” you murmur, catching sight of a jagged piece of metal underneath the dumpster, picking it up and doing your best to climb onto it, but it’s difficult in heels and a dress. “Why are you so intent on dying?”

“Why are you so intent on living?” Dazai hits you with a question back instead of responding, peering up at you as he slowly spins in the air while you do your best to cut through the thick tapestry. 

You frown at the question, brows furrowing. “Because I have things I still need to accomplish. Goals to achieve. Don’t you?” 

“The only goal I need to achieve is finding a beautiful lady to do a double suicide with,” Dazai says, lips curling up into another charming smile but the effects of it are diminished because of the way he was still hanging upside down, spinning in slow circles. “Would you like to join me, bella?”

“Maybe in fifty years,” you say dryly. 

“I’ll-”

Dazai doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you finally cut through the tapestry and he tumbles down head first to the ground. You bite back a smile as he lets out a loud yelp, crumpling on the ground in an unceremonious heap. You lower yourself back down to the ground, eyes settling on him as you watch him push himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head. 

He looks up at you through his lashes, the charming smile on his lips a bit more lazy and casual as he looks over you. “My, aren’t you dressed pretty? What’s the occasion?” As you prepare to give a bullshit excuse, he holds up his hand and says: “Wait! Let me guess. A long day of work and no one to go out with after, so you decided to get all dressed up and walk around the city to see if fate would lead you to someone, and since our fingers are tied by that thin red thread, naturally, you were led right to me. Oh, my fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death so easily despite so many attempts, destiny refused to let me die as we’re predestined to be together.”

You stare at him, watching as he presses the back of his hand to his forehead, tilting his head back because what the fuck?

“I was on a date,” you say, ignoring the entire rest of what he said to answer his question, truthfully at that because his whole tirade about destiny and fate had thrown you off. 

Dazai wilts, but then straightens up again and says, “Well, it couldn’t have been a good one if he didn’t at least walk you home.”

You grimace. “I think I should be insulted by how pleased you look at my night being ruined,” you mutter, holding your hand out to him to help him up. 

Dazai places his hand in yours; long, thin fingers wrapped around your hand as you help him to his feet. He doesn’t let go immediately, nor does he back away, brown eyes lidded as he looks down at you, so close that your clothes were brushing his. The corner of his lips tilt up, his fingertips grazing your inner wrist. “How about we make the most of a ruined night then?”

You raise your eyebrows—you think you should get back to your apartment, get some work done to make up for how much of a mess the night had turned out, but you find yourself hesitating because do you really want to go wallow alone now? 

“How do you plan we do that?” you ask instead of giving him an answer, although he evidently takes it as an answer considering his face lights up at your words.

“Come on,” he says, tugging your arm as he turns to make his way down the sidewalk, dragging you along with him. “I’ll show you someplace.”

“O-okay,” you fumble over your words in surprise, but it isn’t like Dazai is giving you much of a choice considering the way he’s pulling you along with him. 

Your face feels hot when you notice the people still prowling the streets shooting the two of you odd looks—Dazai doesn’t seem to care, focusing on getting you to whatever destination he has planned, but you can feel their eyes burning into you with every step you take. 

“Ignore them,” Dazai says, as if he can read your thoughts. He tosses his head over his shoulder as he looks at you, the corner of his lips curling up into another lazy smile that makes your breath catch. “They don’t know how to have fun.”

“Yeah,” is all you reply with, a bit doubtfully as you turn your gaze up to the dark skies, where the dark clouds you had noticed earlier in the day are now gathered over the city. “It’s going to rain.”

Dazai only raises his eyebrows, face riddled with disbelief as he turns fully to look at you, walking backwards without a care in the world as he forces people to walk around him. “Now, you care about rain?” he asks, referring to your first meeting.

You let out a puff of laughter. “I guess you have a point.”

“Naturally,” he says, teeth gleaming beneath the streetlamps as his grin widens. “I’m one of the Agency’s sharpest detectives, after all.”

“How humble,” you note, but your voice is light, teasing, and you’re almost embarrassed. 

Dazai is unbothered by your playful dig, spinning back around to turn down the sidewalk onto a busier street, carelessly pulling you along with him and causing people to swerve around the two of you. You try to fumble out apologies as people shoot the two of you dirty looks but Dazai barely gives you enough time to speak the words as he continues down the street. 

“Have you heard?” Dazai asks, returning to walking backward so he can look at you, garnering even more angry looks. “We’re heroes now.”

You have heard, of course, it’s all over the news. You hadn’t been in Yokohama when everything happened, you were visiting a friend outside of the city, but you’d seen it all going down on the TV as it was happening. And naturally, it’s impossible to avoid all of the news articles honoring the Armed Detective Agency and their part in taking down the threat to the city afterward.

“I have,” you drawl, and then add after a moment’s hesitation: “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating instead of…”

Instead of trying to kill yourself.

“This is me celebrating,” Dazai says mournfully, so casually that it takes you aback as he tilts his head back in grief. “It was supposed to be successful this time.”

“Well…” You aren’t sure what to say to that, the words dying on your lips as the first raindrops begin to fall from the sky. “I’m glad it wasn’t successful,” you finally decide upon, averting your gaze as Dazai’s face shifts into one of surprise as he looks down at you.

His lips part as if to say something, but seems to decide against it, instead letting a smile slip onto his face as he says: “Speaking of celebrations, my sweet belladonna, this hero needs a date to the celebratory event that the government is hosting for us in two weeks. Join me?”

You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, as the rain begins to come down harder—a flash flood, you realize. You watch as people start scattering around you, running for cover, but you and Dazai remain standing in the middle of the sidewalk, him awaiting your answer and you trying to figure out how to politely say you’d rather die than go to a celebratory event with people you don’t know.

You wonder if Dazai suspects your answer because he does not, in fact, give you the chance to speak.

Your eyes widen as he tugs you closer to him. “What’re you doing?” you stutter over your words as his free hand finds your hip and he spins the two of you around recklessly, forcing several people to dodge again as they run past the two of you and into a store to wait for the sudden rain to pass. Only his firm grip on you keeps you from slipping on the puddles forming on the sidewalk beneath the two of you. “Dazai!” 

“Dancing,” is all he replies with, eyes shining as he lifts his arm to twirl you beneath it, your heels splashing in a puddle as he drags you along with his dance like a puppet. “It’s supposed to be romantic—dancing in the rain—I’ve seen it in movies, are you romanced, yet?” 

You aren’t sure what makes you want to laugh, maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation or the way Dazai keeps having to blink away the raindrops that fall into his eyes, but before you know it, you're biting your lower lip to withhold the giggles rising through your chest. 

“Are you laughing at me?” Dazai gasps in mock offense as he spins you outward once. You nearly trip over your heels but before you can, he’s spinning you back toward him, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips you down. “And here I was thinking I was doing a good job romancing you.”

His voice drops an octave as he lowers his voice, dark eyes searching yours, and you think that there’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, his hair is wet and matted against his forehead, dripping in your face as he hangs over you, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his body heat radiating against yours. Lightning webs across the sky above him, illuminating his face in a way that has your breath catching. You’re in heels and a dress and you can so easily trip and break your ankle, it’s only his hold on you preventing that from happening. It’s dangerous, and stupid—and maybe it’s a little romantic.

“I-”

You aren’t even able to get the admission from your lips because as soon as you begin to speak, someone slams into Dazai from behind. You yelp and his eyes widen as he stumbles forward, twisting the two of you around so he takes the brunt of the fall. He hits the ground hard with an ‘oof,’ half in the muddy grass and half on the sidewalk, and you fall on top of him, lips parted in shock.

“Well,” Dazai finally says after a few moments of stunned silence. “This is distinctly less romantic.”

And you laugh. Unable to hold it back now, you burst into laughter—hands braced on his chest, body flush against his, there’s mud splattered across his face and you’re pretty sure your makeup must be running down your cheeks from the rain. You think that your heels are probably ruined and you’d have to spend hours getting the stains out of your dress, but you laugh because you can’t remember the last time you actually had fun and weren’t stressed about school and the future, and your night had been going so horribly that you’d lost any hope of it taking a turn for the better. You might’ve been crying a bit too, you aren’t sure why, but it’s raining so you hope that he doesn’t notice.

You notice Dazai’s eyebrows lift a bit in surprise before his face seems to soften, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lets his head fall back against the mud.

“So,” he says, “about that date?”

“Nobody believes I have a date for the event,” Dazai complains two weeks later as he enters your apartment and throws himself onto your couch, watching as you dab on some dark red lipstick—an occurrence you’d become quite used to the past two weeks, because evidently Dazai Osamu does not need a key nor invitation into your home, he just picks the lock and comes right in. At least you’re expecting him this time. “Atsushi-kun laughed in my face. He laughed in my face! Can you believe it? After everything I’ve done for him, the nerve.”

You grin, glancing up into your mirror to catch his eyes. “To be honest, I still don’t believe you have a date for the dinner and I am your date.”

Dazai blanches, throwing his arm over his face as he slumps into the couch. “Et tu, bella?” he sighs sorrowfully and you laugh, spinning around in your chair to face him. 

“Think of it this way,” you say, twisting your lipstick back into its container and placing it into your purse. Dazai peek up from the couch, eyes focusing on you as you speak. You almost feel a bit flustered under his gaze, it’s more intense than you expected. “You’ll get to see the looks on their face when they realize that you do actually have a date.”

Dazai brightens a bit at your words and then, as if a sudden thought passed through his head, he begins cackling like a madman—although you’re beginning to think the description is far more apt than you believed, Dazai Osamu is simply not sane. “Kunikada-kun is going to be so mad that I have a date and he doesn’t.”

“You’re wrinkling your suit, sit up straight,” you say and turn your attention back to the mirror, discreetly watching as Dazai lets out an exaggerated sigh before doing as you ask. Your eyes linger on him for a moment—he looks different dressed up nicely in a sleek, dark suit than his typical tan trench coat. He still wears those odd bandages all over his body, but you suppose that’s just a him thing, and no fancy event would get him to take them off. You can’t quite place what the exact difference is but you find that your gaze keeps dragging back to him. 

He catches you staring and winks, you roll your eyes and look away, grateful that your embarrassment doesn’t show on your face as you glance one last time at yourself in the mirror to ensure that nothing is out of place

Dazai, you have learned over the past two weeks, can’t stand silence, so you aren’t surprised when you hear him start complaining about something else as soon as the conversation dies down. 

“Did you know I pushed two of my little protégés to work with each other?” he asks, reaching out to grab the papers on your coffee table when he thinks you aren’t looking. You throw one of your makeup brushes at him. He yelps and draws back his hand.

“That’s nice,” you say absently. “Do they work together well?” 

“Oh, they work together great,” Dazai says, and you glance back at him when you notice the sheer bitterness in his tone. “I think they love each other now.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of why Dazai seems so irritated by this. “That’s… great, isn’t it?” you asked slowly.

“No!” Dazai says so vehemently that you think he might leap to his feet in outrage. “That is not great. They are not allowed to be in a relationship before me. I forbid it.”

Your lips part a bit, a noise caught between a laugh and shock escaping them as you look over at Dazai again. “Okay,” you say, dragging out the word in amusement. Dazai shoots an affronted expression toward you in response, but you don’t give him the chance to speak again. You rise to your feet and swing your purse over your shoulder, glancing at the time, realizing you had about fifteen minutes to be at the City Hall, which is a forty minute drive without traffic and it’s a Saturday evening, so there’s always traffic. 

“Oh god, we have to-”

You turn to leave only to bump right into Dazai. Blinking in confusion, you look up at him to ask what he’s doing but the words die on your tongue.

He’s too close as he looks down at you, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and you can feel his body brushing yours, the corner of his lips twitching up. “Have I earned a kiss yet?” he hums, leaning his face down a bit so that his lips are almost barely grazing yours. 

“Maybe,” you say, eyes flickering down to his lips for the sparest second before you watch his eyes light up only for you to take a step back, “but even if you did, you’re not messing up my makeup.”

Dazai looks as if he’d been shot in the heart, head dropping back as he groans and pouts at your words. “You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs, voice a long whine. “Won’t you indulge me with just a taste?”

“No,” you say, slipping past him to make your way over to the door where the keys to your car are hanging on a small hook. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

The exaggerated grief that paints Dazai’s expression instantly disappears as he eyes your keys with a look that’s nothing short of devious. Distantly, you frown and close your fist around your keys, putting them out of his sight, but Dazai is undeterred, walking over to you.

“I can drive us,” he says, that same expression on his face as he holds his hand out. You don’t trust the look on his face, nor do you trust the way he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s the least I can do, right?” 

You’re doubtful, looking down at his extended hand as he waits for you to drop the keys in them. “I can drive,” you say, but Dazai immediately pouts at your words, looking genuinely bummed out, and you feel a little bad because you don’t even like driving, you just don’t trust Dazai to be a good driver. You hesitate. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“Of course,” Dazai says hurriedly, dark eyes lighting back up.

You exhale, reaching out to place your keys in his hand—the smile on his face is wicked, dread builds in your gut. You think you might have made a mistake.

You’re surprised that your car is still in one piece as Dazai parks crookedly across three spots in the parking lot of the city hall. You’re surprised that you are in one piece. You don’t move for a second, fingers still biting into the leather seat you’re buckled in, eyes wide and barely breathing. As Dazai turns the car off, you finally turn your head to the side to look at him before getting out of the car, grateful to be standing on solid ground.

“Never again.”

Dazai’s unbothered, as always—his smile is wide and restless, eyes exhilarated as they dart around the car, fingers clutching the keys as he finally steps outside. He looks as if he’d just won the lottery, that gleeful over having been given the chance to drive. You knew you should have gone with your gut when the man first asked if he could drive, and as miserable and anxiety-inducing it was racing through the streets, in between cars and half on the sidewalk, you think it might’ve been worth it, a bit, considering Dazai’s reaction.

“Maybe once more,” Dazai bargains, holding out his arm to you.

“Never again,” you repeat, but your voice is light as you take his arm and let him lead you up the steps to the city hall. “I cannot believe you didn’t get us pulled over.”

“Must not have been that bad then,” Dazai says, proudly. 

“Ha! More like they didn’t want to risk their own lives trying to stop you.”

Dazai pouts terribly and then adds petulantly, “But it was fun.”

“It was something alright,” you agree idly. You aren’t sure if you were having fun in the moment, you were more scared for your life and your car, but you suppose looking back on it was a bit entertaining. 

“You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs exaggeratedly. “You refuse my well-earned kiss, you mock me, now you insult my driving skills.”

“The only thing insulted tonight was my car,” you mutter to yourself, glancing back once more at it before Dazai steps forward to push open the wide doors to the city hall. 

Instantly, you’re met with the sound of loud chatter and laughter and a young, unfamiliar voice calling, “Dazai-san!” excitedly. 

Your gaze drifts up from Dazai to where a teen with silver hair and pretty eyes rushes up to the two of you. He’s so tunnel visioned on Dazai that he doesn’t even notice you until he’s standing right in front of you, and when he does, his eyes go so wide that you think they might pop right out of his skull. He looks between you and Dazai questioningly, lips parting and closing like a fish out of water.

Dazai looks like the cat that got the canary, eyes gleaming at the expression on Atsushi’s face and lips twitching up into a wicked smile. 

“Atsushi-kuuuuun,” he drags out the boy's name in a long sing-song. “Meet my sweet belladonna, the one you so rudely claim didn’t exist.”

Atsushi looks flustered as he turns his attention toward you, eyes wide with panic and redness rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t-I mean-I just-” he stutters so badly that you’re forced to take mercy on the poor boy.

“Don’t worry,” you say with an easy grin. “I wouldn’t believe I existed either coming from Dazai.”

Dazai gapes. Atsushi snickers, hand coming up to cover his mouth to hide his smile. Atsushi glances once at Dazai and then looks back at you and whispers, “Is he paying you?”

Dazai looks thoroughly offended.

“Unfortunately, he doesn't need to,” you say with a snort, "but I'm sure he would if he had to."

Dazai gasps. 

Atsushi snorts loudly and then looks a bit embarrassed. A woman with pretty eyes and short dark hair comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She throws a sharp grin at you. “You must be the infamous woman that Dazai has been talking about nonstop for two weeks,” she says, ignoring how Dazai looks like he wants to wither as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Blink twice if you need help.”

Dazai looks appalled now. “Yosano-sensei,” he complains, “That’s so-”

You pointedly blink twice. Yosano barks out a laugh and nearly chokes over it, Dazai gasps again, louder and far more dismayed. He slumps over your shoulder, burying his face into the top of your head. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he grumbles, voice muffled against your hair. 

You pat his waist as another man approaches the group of you, blonde hair tied back neatly in a ponytail and glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. His eyes are sharp and narrowed as he looks at where Dazai is draping himself all over you. “Oi, you shitty waste of bandages, have some decorum, would you? We're at a government event, stop throwing yourself at people.”

Dazai perks up, that unscrupulous smile instantly returning as his gaze focuses on the blonde. “Kunikida-kuuun,” he now sings the other man’s name, arm slipping around your waist to tug you into his side as he says. “Come meet my date. She’s a grad student at Waseda University.”

You have a distinct feeling that he’s rubbing it in Kunikida’s face, and from the way the man’s expression twists in genuine surprise at Dazai’s words, you figure that said feeling is correct. Kunikida turns his attention toward you. “And you’re with him?” he asks so distastefully that you almost laugh. “How did you even meet him?”

You give Dazai a side-eye, considering whether or not you should tell the truth. You notice the pleading expression on his face and squint, but before you can make your decision, he speaks up, voice loud and exaggerated: “A fateful encounter under the moonlit shore of the Zushi Beach, we stumbled into each other as if guided by the hand of god himself. I-”

Suspicious now of the sideways explanation he’s giving about your own meeting with him, and recalling the tale he regaled you of his meeting with the very boy standing a few feet away from you, you cut off Dazai and turn to Atsushi. “Atsushi-kun, how did you and Dazai meet?”

Dazai flounders, hands flying in front of as if to wave Atsushi off from answering, but Atsushi only scowls and says, “I had to jump into the Tsurumi River to free him from where he was floating upside down in a barrel trying to drown himself. Then he had the nerve to yell at me for it.”

Pointedly, you look at Dazai, who at least has the decency to look sheepish as he glances at you. “I did take him out to dinner after though,” he offers.

“With my money,” Kunikida rages loudly and Dazai throws his head back with a loud sigh of complaint. 

“None of you have my back. Not a single one of you,” Dazai accuses. “I would be a good wingman for you guys.”

Kunikida looks downright insulted. “You are the opposite of a wingman,” he spits. “In fact, you go out of your way to embarrass me in front of women, you lousy liar-”

“I will not have you make me look bad because you’re jealous any longer,” Dazai proclaims, holding his hand up as if to silence Kunikida. 

“Jealous?” Kunikida booms after Dazai, but Dazai is already dragging you away, stealing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one over to you with a misleadingly innocent smile. 

“It’s true, he’s jealous,” Dazai says, lacing his fingers into yours as he idly walks around the event hall with you, sipping at his champagne. “He has fifty-eight criteria for his ideal woman, you fit at least forty of them. He’s probably soooo mad you’re here with me.”

You blink and look at Dazai, wondering if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask with a laugh. “Fifty-eight-”

“Criteria, yeah,” Dazai confirms, “and he wonders why he can’t get a girlfriend—blames it on me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sure you don’t help.”

Dazai pouts but then his amusement fades a bit as his eyes scan the crowd of people, dark eyes taking upon an uncharacteristically serious visage. His lips tighten and the corner of his eyes wrinkle as he squints, as if something about the whole event is bothering him.

“You okay?” you ask and Dazai looks at you, a bit startled.

“Yeah,” he says, and you watch as he smooths his face out—as if you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to see and now he was trying to play it off and pretend you didn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You’ve noticed over the past two weeks, as you’ve gotten to know Dazai Osamu a bit better, that he’s far more complex than he likes to portray himself to be. He puts on a theatrical show with bright smiles, loud words and over-exaggerated clownlike behavior, and he’s very good at making sure that the mask he puts on rarely wavers. You’ve only caught it faltering a few times, including that first time you met when you’d woken up in the middle of the night and caught his empty expression as he stared out into the storm. 

He doesn’t take well to people pointing it out though, you’ve realized. You tried to once a week ago when you caught him looking a bit lost and alone at a picture you had of you and two of your friends at a bar downtown. He’d broken into your apartment, as you’ve grown unfortunately used to over the past two weeks, and he was waiting for you to get back from class, snooping around while he waited. You weren’t supposed to be back until much later but your five o’clock class had been canceled, and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard you enter your apartment until you were a few feet away and asking if he was okay. 

He promptly fled with a half-assed excuse about an urgent mission and he didn’t come back to your apartment for two days. When he finally did, he acted like nothing happened. You think that it’s not really your right to push and you don’t want to step over any boundary of his, but a part of you is starting to long to figure out what exactly is behind the mask he wears and that scares you. You find yourself smiling a bit too much whenever Dazai is around, your face always feels a bit hotter and your brain always feels a bit fuzzy—the tell-tale signs of falling are starting to appear and you want to know the man behind the carefully constructed mask before you start to fall only to realize that there’s no one there to catch you. 

“You looked a bit lost in thought,” you finally say, testing the words on your tongue and scanning his face to see if even that would be too much of a push for him. 

It is.

“You see right through me, don’t you?” He laughs it off as a joke, but you can all but taste the bitterness in his tone and you can see the mirth thinly veiled behind his eyes. “I’ll be right back, the boss is calling me over.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for you to respond, he tosses you a wink and another casual smile before he sets off across the room but you aren’t fooled by the faux-charm this time, knowing that he’s fleeing because you got a bit too close to asking something that he doesn’t want to answer. Lifting your champagne glass back to your lips, you idly watch him make his way over to a handsome, silver-haired man who’s in deep discussion with a young man with messy black hair. 

You sigh and wave over a server to grab another flute of champagne before you even finish the one in hand, disappointment sweeping through you as you realize that the night is likely going to be a very, very long one.

You’re finishing your fourth glass when you hear someone call your last name and pause a bit in confusion, turning around to face a tall middle-aged man with graying hair. Your eyes widen a bit as you recognize Tonan Tanzo, the Vice Minister of Justice, making his way toward you with a glass of wine in hand. 

“Tonan-san,” you greet, nodding your head a bit in respect for the older man, who you spoke to briefly at the Ministry’s panel at your university a week and a half ago. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you,” the man replies distantly, more a nicety than anything else. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You’re acquainted with the Armed Detective Agency?” 

There’s an edge to his voice, one that you’re not sure if you like. You wonder if he has an issue with the Agency, but you don’t see why he would, they’ve been nothing but helpful in fostering peace in the city.

You only smile idly. “Vaguely,” you respond, not giving away all too much. You wonder if Dazai knows anything about whatever the man’s issue is—you’d have to ask him later. 

Tonan hums, as if your answer wasn’t satisfactory, and then he says, “I was meaning to email you about the internship you were hoping for under Minister Hasegawa—all of the chaos of the past week has prevented me from doing so. I’ll be sure to do so by the end of this week so we can work to finalize something for winter break and the summer. Perhaps we can figure something out with your schedule to get you some training at the office before the semester ends.”

Your lips part a bit in shock at the suddenness of the offer but you school your expression quickly, mind racing as you force out, “I would appreciate that very much, Tonan-san. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Tonan Tanzo only hums again, nodding at you once before his eyes flicker up above you, a bit distastefully, just as you feel fingers brush your lower back. Tonan doesn’t even bother to greet Dazai as he turns to leave with a faint parting to you. You look up at Dazai, whose expression is cold as he stares after Tonan until the man disappears down a nearby hall. 

“What was that about?” Dazai asks, the cold expression melting as soon as he looks down at you, dark eyes warm and curious as if he hadn’t just abandoned you for almost an hour. You almost feel a bit flustered beneath the gentle stare. Almost. 

“I think he just offered me the job I was trying to get at the Ministry?” you say, still a bit dazed. “Although, I don’t think it’s necessarily because he wants me there, but it doesn’t really matter, I just need it for my resume.”

“Hm,” Dazai says to himself before his lips flicker up into a smile. “Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose. Good thing I grabbed us some more champagne.”

He lifts his other hand pointedly, showing off the two flutes he’d grabbed on the way back and you grin a bit, taking one from him, feeling a bit giddy now even though you’re pretty sure Tonan only hit you with the offer because of your affiliation with the Armed Detective Agency. 

“You should probably slow down,” you note as you sip your own glass. “You’re on like seven now.”

“I’m fine, and you have no room to talk,” Dazai shoots you a playful smile. “Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, eyes widening as Dazai takes the glass from you before you even take a second sip, placing it down on a nearby table with his as he grabs your arm and drags you to the center of the room, onto a dancefloor that nobody is using. “Dazai, no.”

“Dazai, yes,” he corrects with a wild grin and your face is aflame as eyes begin to turn in the direction of the two of you, curious as to what’s going on. 

You want to die when Dazai forcibly spins you under his arm, much like that night out on the streets of Yokohama when the two of you ended up drenched and muddy except now there were dozens of eyes on you whereas then, people were more focused on trying to get to cover from the torrential downpour.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, embarrassment flooding through you because for as thin as Dazai is, he’s deceptively strong and you cannot break free of the grip he has on your hand and waist. 

“Please,” he breathes out longingly. “A death at your hands would-”

“Stop.”

Dazai pouts, and then as if punishment for interrupting him, Dazai launches you into a dramatic dip, leaning down with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat’s to shame as he nudges his nose against yours before pulling you back up and spinning you beneath his arm again. 

“This is embarrassing,” you say, but Dazai is paying no mind to the attention that the two of you are gaining—in fact, he looks utterly pleased with himself. “I-”

“Look! Yosano-sensei and Atsushi-kun are joining us!” Dazai cheers, turning the two of you just enough so that you can catch sight of Yosano physically dragging a protesting Atsushi out onto the near-empty dance floor.

“Yosano-sensei, please, I’ve never danced before,” Atsushi pleads, tugging his wrist away from the older woman but her grip is iron clad as she tugs the boy toward her, taking the lead in a wide ballroom dance.

“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai sings. “Don’t look so nervous.” 

Atsushi shoots Dazai a withering look, clearly blaming him for the unfortunate turn of events, and you relax a bit as you realize that Yosano pulling Atsushi onto the dance floor triggered a wave of several others: a dark-haired girl dragging an orange-haired boy onto the floor, the president of the Agency holding a hand out to a young girl who keeps shooting longing looks in the direction of the people dancing, a few older couples.

“See, everyone was just too nervous to be the first,” Dazai preens, tugging you close as he shifts from a wide and theatrical ballroom dance to a slower and more intimate one.

Your breath catches as he wraps an arm around your waist, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your lower back as his hand flattens. His other hand slips from where it’s intertwined with your to join his right on your waist. You’re so close to him that you can smell the faint scent of champagne on his breath as you loop your arms around his neck with a small smile. 

Dazai’s dark eyes are glittering as he looks down at you, warm as melted honey and soft as velvet, you’re almost entranced. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile—you think you want to kiss him, and you swallow nervously as soon as the thought crosses your mind. You also think he might be able to read your mind, because his smile becomes a bit more mischievous as he leans down. 

He doesn’t kiss you, but you think he might as well from how close he is to you—you swear that his lips are all but brushing yours. You feel a bit dizzy, and although there are enough people swaying and spinning around the two of you that you don’t really have to worry about any attention being on the two of you, you still feel a bit flustered by the thought of so many possibly seeing this. 

“Now, do I get my kiss?” he whispers, and your lips part to respond but no words leave them. You think that’s dangerous because you definitely should not kiss him right now but your brain will not cooperate in formulating the words. Dazai lets out a small puff of laughter, his breath is warm against your lips and you want to kiss him even more—dangerous, you think again. “Fine, fine, I’ll wait just a bit longer.”

He doesn’t back away though and your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat as he hums along quietly to the music playing, swaying back and forth with you tucked neatly in your arms. You think this is far too intimate for two people who aren’t even technically dating (you won’t admit that you’d been questioning it earlier with how often he frequents your apartment and his casual intimacy with you and felt a bit embarrassed when he made his comment about his proteges being in a relationship before him), and you think you should probably back away, but instead you find your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

There’s something indecipherable in his eyes—conflicted and confused, but with a far heavier emotion thinly veiled behind it, something caught between longing and adoration but with a hint of melancholy. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you figure that now’s not the time and he’ll probably just blow you off in the same way he did before.

So instead, you just give him a small smile and watch as his dark eyes widen a fraction at the action—you wonder if he realized that you noticed that something’s up with him and more importantly, you wonder if you weren’t supposed to notice. With bated breath, you wait to see whether or not he’s going to close off. 

Around the two of you, the President lifts his arm to let the young girl spin beneath it, Atsushi is still letting out panicked protests as he and Yosano sweep across the dancefloor, an older couple laughs loudly as the man dips her and the teenage girl with dark hair is giggling as she takes the lead in the dance with the orange-haired boy. 

Dazai doesn’t react for what feels like an eternity. 

But then he smiles—it’s light and soft around the edges, matching your own, and though that indecipherable look is still in his eyes, maybe even more wistful now, you can’t help but notice that his shoulders feel much less tense beneath your arms.

You consider it a win.

Dazai thinks that he might be in trouble. 

His gaze lingers on you as you make your way across the room in the direction of where Atsushi and Kyouka are talking. Atsushi had waved you over after everyone finally made their way off of the dance floor, Dazai’s a bit insulted because Atsushi and Kyouka both made it abundantly clear that they only wanted you to join them, which Dazai thinks is quite rude but what does he know?

And Dazai’s heart is racing, his cheeks feel warm, his lips are tingling, and he wants to blame it on the alcohol but he knows deep down that the alcohol is not the issue, you are.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The thought rings through his head as he watches you walk away, eyes tracing your figure while an emotion that borders on longing wreaks havoc on his heart. His throat feels clogged with it, his lungs feel as if they’re filled with ash. You make it to Atsushi and Kyouka and Atsushi is immediately talking, animated and excited.

He thinks you look beautiful—you’re wearing a red dress and it clings as if it was made perfectly for you even though he’s pretty sure it’s a dress you’d found on Uniqlo’s clearance racks, he remembers you raving about your luck with it last week, and as you look over your shoulder in his direction, your eyes glitter as brightly as the rhinestones sitting on your collarbone, teeth gleaming as you smile at whatever Atsushi is saying to you. Dazai doesn’t dare to ponder what his protege could possibly be telling you to make you look at him like that, he doubts it’s anything good, but he finds that he doesn’t even really care because he thinks that he’d sacrifice all of his pride and dignity if it means you’d continue to smile like that in his direction.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

It was meant to be a little fun once he realized that you were just a civilian with no connection to the underground—a distraction, a way to gloat a bit to Kunikida because of course Dazai can pull a girl that fits almost every single one of the man’s ideals while Kunikida himself can hardly dream of it. He convinced himself that he was playing a long game by spending every waking second outside of work at your apartment, wooing you so that he could get a kick out of Kunikida’s inevitable explosion. He convinced himself that the fluttering in his chest whenever you laughed at him was just some strange heart palpitations that have arisen as a chronic consequence of one of his attempts, paying no mind to the fact that it only happens when he’s with you. He convinced himself that his face is warm whenever he’s around you because of the weather even when the temperature chills and the wind is bitter. 

But it’s hard to convince himself now—his lips tingle from where they’d just barely been brushing yours, there are goosebumps on his skin where your fingers had once been, and the image of your smile is branded behind his eyelids, the gentleness of it and the understanding. And he thinks it’s ridiculous honestly, because he doesn’t think that there’s anyone left in the world that could possibly understand him, but since that first day he met you, you’ve seemed to be able to see through him in a way that few people have ever been able to, going out of your way to try to make him feel more comfortable in a way that no one ever has.

When did he start to…

He can’t even finish the thought because acknowledging it means that it’s real and if it’s real, then Dazai is in trouble because Dazai is not a man who is capable of love anymore—or maybe he still is capable of love, or something close to it at least, what he feels for the members of the Agency proves that at least, but he’s not a man who’s capable of being loved. 

Not for who he is.

Even if you do fall for the facade he puts up—the smiling jester who laughs and jokes and never lets anyone close enough to realize that the only thing within him is a black hole that consumes anything and everything he touches—you’ll realize one day that the man you fell for is a fraud and you’d leave. Dazai has been left behind once, in a way that was so excruciating that it’d almost entirely killed off Dazai’s withered heart, and he’s decided that he’ll never be the one left behind again. He’ll run before people can leave him, and he’ll keep everyone else at arm’s length. He’s probably wrong anyway; he doesn’t care for you, not like that, the line between obsession and love has always been dangerously blurry for him. He-

“Atsushi’s taken to her pretty fast, don’t you think?” 

Dazai starts at the sudden sound of Yosano coming to stand next to him, a half-empty glass of wine in hand. There’s a lazy smile on her face as she watches where you, Atsushi and Kyouka are all chatting—well, you and Atsushi, mostly, but Kyouka seems enraptured in whatever conversation the two of you are having. 

“Yeah,” Dazai agrees, and his voice is a bit more rough than he meant for it to be. He pointedly takes another long swig of his drink. “That’s a first.”

“Isn’t it?” Yosano laughs loudly, drawing some attention to the pair. “A good sign, he’s got pretty good instincts.”

Yosano nudges his shoulder playfully but Dazai can hardly gather the energy to mask the sudden and unwelcome sorrow weighing on him. He manages, if only scarcely, but it’s unconvincing if the way Yosano’s brows furrowed has anything to say about it. 

He speaks before she can question it in an attempt to distract her from her concerns. “She’s quite the catch, I know. My sweet bella, if only she would join me in a double suicide, I don’t think I could even dream up a better way to go.”

Yosano only waves off his comment, and Dazai knows that she’s right—maybe it’s his tiger senses or maybe it’s just his intuition, but Atsushi usually has a good eye for good people. His lack of reservation around you, when he was even reserved around the Agency at first, is certainly a nice sign, even if it is partly because he’s had a few glasses of champagne. But Dazai also just can’t find it in him to be pleased over it because yeah, it confirms that you’re a good person but Dazai, no matter how hard he tries to be, is not one and he’s not sure if anything will ever change that.

The thickness in his throat returns, his eyes flutter shut momentarily as he tries to regain some semblance of control over himself.

When he opens his eyes again, his gaze instinctively is drawn back toward you and-

Oh, Dazai thinks, his breath catching and lips instinctively turning up as he watches you start to giggle and lean into Kyouka, who must have finally joined the conversation, while looking over at him. There’s a hazy look in your eyes, courtesy of the constant stream of champagne Dazai has been supplying you with all night, but you can’t seem to draw your eyes off of Dazai and Dazai can’t seem to draw his from you. 

Yosano nudges his shoulder again to try to get his attention but Dazai can’t look away from you so he hums as if to tell her that she has his attention—if only partly. 

“Enjoy it, Dazai,” Yosano says quietly and Dazai finally glances over to her, catching the oddly coherent look in what should’ve been drunken, glazed over eyes. “Don’t sabotage this for yourself. Enjoy it.” 

Dazai thinks maybe he was wrong about you being one of few to be able to see right through him. Maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks he is—or maybe it’s just his shared connection to Yosano through Mori that has her able to read him so easily. He avoids Yosano’s gaze as he looks back out into the crowds. Naturally, he finds himself seeking you out again, and you’re already looking at him. There’s a soft expression on your face as you admire him, not having realized he’d caught you staring yet, and you look as if you’re barely listening to what Atsushi is saying, and Dazai’s heart seizes because no one has ever looked at him that way before.

Well, he decides, maybe Yosano is right. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once you realize that the front he shows you is just a mask to hide the rotting carcass that lies beneath, you’ll turn tail and run, and then everything can go back to normal again. He just can’t let himself get more attached than he already is—that way it won’t hurt when you leave.

Dazai catches his lips turning up as he watches you start giggling at something Atsushi and Kyouka say, Dazai’s heart does that damning flutter again, and immediately, he averts his gaze.

Still, he thinks, he’s far too sober for this. 

Later in the night, when people have begun to say their goodbyes and you start to make your way to the restrooms to freshen up before heading out, Dazai corners you against the wall of the hall leading out of the event venue. You don’t even hear him following you or notice his presence until you feel his fingers snatch your wrist as he yanks you back toward him. 

Your eyes widen but you’re able to bite back the yelp that nearly escapes your lips when you recognize his dark eyes looking down at you, mischievous and glittering beneath the soft lights. 

“Do I get my kiss now?” Dazai breathes out. The wall behind you is cool against your back, and you can hear the chatter from the event down the hall as the event begins to come to an end. You part your lips to respond to him, with what? You aren’t entirely sure, but it doesn’t seem to matter because no words leave your lips regardless. “The party’s over, no need to worry about messing up that pretty makeup now, bella.”

“Only one,” you finally say, voice a bit more throaty than you would have liked but it’s hard to concentrate with Dazai’s fingers grazing your hips and his body brushing yours. You wonder if the man has ever learned about the concept of personal space—you severely doubt it. “Make it good, and maybe you can have a second.”

The smile on Dazai’s lips is nothing short of sinful as he brings one hand up to cup the side of your neck, thumb running along your jawline and fingers entangling with your hair. He doesn’t waste a second as he dips his head down to press his lips against yours, they’re warm and soft, and taste distinctly like the champagne that had been served earlier in the night. You let out a quiet noise of surprise against his lips, eyes fluttering shut. 

The kiss is tamer than you expected it to be—he makes no move to deepen it, lips moving slowly and gently against yours as if he’s hesitant to take it any further, but Dazai Osamu has never been hesitant about anything in all of the times you've encountered him. Your hands rest on his forearms as he keeps you pressed up against the wall, unconcerned with the fact that all of his coworkers and many government officials are naught but half a hallway away. 

You think to yourself, a bit embarrassed, that you might be able to spend an eternity kissing Dazai Osamu and never grow tired of it, and you wonder why it's taken you so long just to give in to his request from nearly a month ago.

You aren’t sure if ten seconds, ten minutes or ten hours have passed by the time he finally separates his lips from yours. He doesn’t move far away at all—his nose still nudging yours, his soft lips still brushing your own, he leaves no space at all between the two of you as he asks: “Good enough for a second?”

Your lips curve up into a smile, eyes meeting his dark ones as you look up at him through your lashes. Though, you have half a mind to agree, your previous thoughts still ringing through your head, you can't help the teasing words that spilled from your lips: “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll sleep on it and let you know my answer the next time we see each other.”

The laugh that Dazai lets out is breathless. 

“Deal.”

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

[hongcherry]

how svt would react if their introvert s/o is socially exhausted

pairing/genres: svt x reader (gn); fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none? (plz lmk if i overlooked something)

author's note: for this anon! coming up with 13 different scenarios is not as easy as it may seem LOL, but it was fun doing something i haven't done before, so thank you for the request! i hope you got some rest, anon 💗

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Seungcheol

After you climb into Seungcheol’s car after one of your many social events this week, you fail to control your overwhelming emotions.

Seungcheol instantly panics at your sudden crying. It started with quiet sniffles, but now you’re borderline sobbing in your hands.

He wants to pull you into his arms, but it’s not as easy to do so since you’re in his car. Instead, he rubs your thigh with one hand and your back with the other.

“Did something happen tonight?” he asks. There’s a mix of worry and anger laced in his tone. He can’t help but picture someone doing something to upset you.

You shake your head and try to calm your cries.

Truthfully, you’re just overwhelmed with responsibility. You’re exhausted with the need to put on a comradely and upstanding appearance. You’re tired of having the same mindless small talks and being over-aware of your surroundings. You just want to stay at home rather than be in public.

Once Seungcheol knows the reason behind your tears, which he had a feeling about these past few days, he drives you both home. He rubs loving circles on your thigh throughout the trip, sending you words of encouragement every now and then. He doesn’t want to attribute to your overbearing emotions, but he wants you to know he’s here for you.

The night is spent cuddling in bed and eating takeout food. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s exactly what you need. He had offered to give you alone time, but you kept him close. You may not want to be around people, but Seungcheol is an exception. He’s your comfort person, someone you don’t have to put on an appearance for. Someone who understands you and knows how to lift your mood.

When you’re on the brink of sleep, you feel Seungcheol’s lips press against the back of your head. He whispers words of encouragement and tells you he’ll always be here for you. You smile, turn in his arms so you’re facing him, and hold him tightly. He chuckles softly at your reaction and holds you as tightly as you’re holding him.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan claims to want to be an island.

He wants to be a place where people can come and go, leaving their worries behind. Except you ended up shipwrecked on the island and made a home.

Jeonghan leans against the headboard of your shared bed. Your back is pressed against his chest, legs tangled under the covers. You want to spill all your troubles to him, but after constant social interactions, you find it difficult to even express your fatigue. Instead, you both cuddle in silence. Heavy rain falls outside; the pit-pat of the droplets luring you into calmness.

Jeonghan knows something’s wrong, but he’s not quite sure what. He whispers that he’s here for you when you’re ready. You nod, pressing yourself against his warm chest more as you peer at him. He grins and captures your lips in his. The kiss is slow, lazy movements that drag for a little too long, but you don’t care. You feel like life’s been too hectic; you need it all to slow down.

Jeonghan gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls away. Your gaze stays on his for a few seconds before you pull him down again.

While you adore Jeonghan’s playful attitude, it’s times like these when you feel extra special. You know he’ll always be there when you need him. Whether you need to rant to him for thirty minutes, cry for fifteen, or simply be near him.

Jeonghan’s your constant.

Joshua

“Babe, are you ready to g—”

Joshua stops mid-sentence upon seeing your dejected form on the couch, shoulders slouched, and a guilty look on your face.

Today was your and Joshua’s two-year anniversary, and he had planned a night out. Normally, you would be over the moon. However, with your constant attendance at social events the past week, you’re dreading going out.

This was meant to be a special night, but you feel like you’ve ruined it. You want to power through, but your body has had enough.

When you finally disclose your troubles with Joshua, he instantly sits next to you and gives you comforting back rubs. He tells you that there’s nothing to feel guilty about. That going out isn’t needed to celebrate your anniversary. He only needs to spend time with you; he doesn’t care the how or where.

So, after a few more reassuring words, you find yourself spending the night indoors with your handsome boyfriend doing mundane activities like cooking and watching shows with little talking. However, you and Joshua are past the awkward silences. You’re able to find comfort in the quietness with him.

And when he gives you random kisses and reassuring smiles throughout the night, you know the night wasn’t ruined by staying in. You just needed him.

Jun

Jun has always been attentive to your needs. After knowing you for years, he can tell when you’re feeling off. You’ve been less talkative, less energetic, and less focused. It’s almost like you’re just a shell of yourself—not really living but just going through the motions.

While you’re away at the nth social gathering, he leaves for the grocery store to gather all the ingredients he needs for your favorite dish. It may not be much, but he just wants you to feel better even if it’s for an hour.

Your routine for coming home nowadays includes taking off your shoes, changing into something more comfortable, and then lying in bed for a few hours until you get up for food.

Jun greets you from the kitchen sweetly and you answer as nicely as you can. It’s nothing against him, but you feel too drained to do or say much. You smell something familiar that makes your stomach rumble. Though before you can question it, Jun gently informs you to get dressed and then come to the dining room.

You mumble an “okay,” then do as you’re told.

Jun’s got the table set and a small, beautiful flower arrangement in the center.

“What’s this?” you wonder.

Jun comes carrying food that makes your mouth water. You recognize it instantly.

“Just thought you deserved a nice meal,” he replies and helps you sit down, placing a kiss on your cheek before he leaves again.

You eye him as he brings in more small dishes. Everything looks incredible, and you can’t wait to indulge in his delicious cooking.

Jun gives you a smile as he sits and nods toward the food, inviting you to go first. The first bite gives you a burst of happiness; there’s something about great food that makes you feel good. Once you get some food in your stomach, Jun begins eating as well.

It’s a nice night after a tiring day. Jun talks a little, but it’s mainly filled with comfortable silence that you welcome. It’s actions like these that make you fall for him more.

Soonyoung

When Soonyoung finds out about your social exhaustion, he fears you won’t want to be around him. Is he making you feel worse? Should he give you some space?

You’re quick to deny his worries. You love his presence, but you warn you may not be as talkative as normal. Soonyoung nods in understanding—tells you he’s perfectly fine with that. He just loves being around you. Sure, he loves your voice too, but he understands needing to recharge after back-to-back social events.

When it’s time for dinner, Soonyoung hesitates to ask if you want to help. He’s not sure if that’s asking for too much, but you smile and follow him to the kitchen.

It’s not unusual to cook dinner together but the time is typically filled with chatting and instructions given by you. This time, it’s Soonyoung leading the dinner preparation. Lately, he’s been more into cooking. Granted, not all his dishes turn out that great, but every chef has to start somewhere. It’s rather nice seeing how excited he gets when executing a dish idea.

You follow his instructions well—chopping this, stirring that. Even though you’re not alone and are on your feet, your mind feels at ease. You don’t have to think about what to say next or how to respond to someone’s actions. You just need to let Soonyoung guide you.

He does so with care. Sometimes he’ll crack a few light jokes just to see the faint smile on your face.

When dinner is done and bellies are full, Soonyoung sends you off to rest while he cleans up. You feel guilty he’s done so much work tonight, but you’re grateful he’s putting in so much effort to make you happy. Next time he’s feeling down like you, you’ll make sure you put in the same effort to see him smile.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo knows the need for alone time. While he doesn’t mind being around his friends for hours, attending social events is a different story. Even if he’s with friends, there are still numerous eyes watching him and other worries he has to consider. It’s draining to constantly uphold an image.

So, when you come home from your final event, he takes no offense when you tell him you want to be alone for a while. Although he’s not sure how long “a while” is, he supports your need to recharge. He tells you that he’s here and to not be afraid to ask for anything as he’ll be there in an instant.

After thanking him and giving him a sweet kiss, you retreat to the bedroom.

Wonwoo sits at his gaming desk in the other room. His headset is on, and his fingers tap rapidly on the keyboard. He’s been playing for a little over an hour when you shuffle inside.

He pauses his game and pushes off his headset.

You’re silent as you push his chair back a bit and settle in his lap.

Wonwoo smiles and helps you get comfortable. You lean against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck tightly with your head nestled in his shoulder.

“You can play,” you mumble.

Wonwoo doesn’t reply verbally. He simply kisses the side of your head before he slips on the headset again and rolls his chair as close as he can get without squishing you.

Your eyes are closed as you lax in his arms. The sound of his keys clacking brings an odd sense of comfort to you. Although you still feel socially drained, you want to be around Wonwoo because if anyone can make you feel better, it’s him. You don’t need his words of encouragement, though you know he’d give them. You just need to know he’s here for you.

And he is.

Always.

Jihoon

There’s something so mesmerizing about the way Jihoon works. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, indicating how much he’s focusing.

“Whatcha’ looking at, babe?” he chuckles when he catches you staring.

You peer at his eyes and smile, shaking your head. “Nothing. I just like watching you work.”

He hums and sets down his phone that he’s writing lyrics on. He pulls you closer, squeezing you and kissing your forehead.

“You doing okay?” he asks.

It’s been a few days since you confided in him about your social exhaustion. One too many social gatherings have left you with low energy. You haven’t felt like doing much, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind. He’s content doing different activities while in the same room.

You shrug in response, and Jihoon gives you a sad yet encouraging smile that tells you to keep going and hang in there. He understands having to do things because you have a responsibility. It’s not always easy, but you have to persevere. And some days it’s easier to; some days it’s not. However, with Jihoon, those easier days happen a lot more often.

You rest your head on Jihoon’s chest while he picks up his phone again. It’s silent except for the sounds of him pressing the keyboard. You wonder what he’s writing about, but Jihoon has never been one to lend you a sneak peek. At least, not while he’s in the process. Maybe he’ll let you review a draft, but that’s the earliest stage you get to see. Regardless, you always end up liking his results.

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until Jihoon gently shakes you. He tells you he needs to use the restroom and that he’ll be right back.

Jihoon holds you closely once he gets back. He whispers a goodnight before falling into slumber as well.

Seokmin

After attending more social gatherings than you can count on your fingers, you’ve become drained. You could go without being around a single human being for a good month.

Except for one.

He lays next to you in bed, eyes darting across your features with worry.

When you ponder what’s wrong, he asks if he’s done something to upset you. You’re confused at first, but then it hits you. You’ve always inquired about his days; however, you’ve been lacking in keeping up to date with his life. You find yourself coming home, then eating and sleeping your day away. Even when you’re up, you’ve stayed to yourself.

You finally tell Seokmin that you’re socially exhausted. Just the mere thought of opening your mouth or being engaged in a conversation has you running for the hills.

Seokmin pushes aside his silent worries and tries not to put anything you’ve said to heart. You’re not upset with him—hell, you’re probably not upset with anyone but just need some quiet time. He’s felt this way before, so he understands you.

Seokmin slides off the bed and leaves the room. You watch in confusion, but he just grins and tells you not to worry.

After fifteen minutes, he comes back and leads you to the living room where he’s set up a mini spa. There’s a bubbling foot bath, a back massage cushion, and calming music playing. You can smell lavender and something else that you’re not sure of, but it makes you feel relaxed.

Seokmin spends hours tending to your body. From foot rubs to forearm massages, he takes care of your body in a way that makes you feel worshipped and loved.

You feel guilty that he’s pampering you so much, but he reassures you multiple times that all you need to do is close your eyes and relax. He has no issue doing this if it means you feel better.

Mingyu

You didn’t mean to snap at Mingyu when he asked if you knew where his wallet was. It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, you replied rudely.

Mingyu had stared at you, not overly offended by your outburst since it was out of character. Rather, he grew concerned. Over the past few days, he’s noticed a decline in your attitude. He could almost see your patience decrease with each passing day. He’s aware of the social events you’ve been going to and figures you’re exhausted from those.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—” you try to apologize a few minutes later. You’ve calmed down and have reflected on your actions.

“I’m not upset with you, but if it makes you feel better, I accept your apology,” he says and pulls you in for a hug. A hug that engulfs you with comfort from his strong and loving embrace.

You end up telling him how you’re feeling, confirming his suspicion behind your outburst.

He gives your head a gentle kiss. You know he’s not mad at you, but you’re still disappointed with yourself for how you treated him.

When it’s time for bed, Mingyu’s by your side. He offers to wash your face for you so all you have to do is relax. With a nod, he washes his hands, then begins your face routine. Although it’s a thoughtful gesture, he tries to help rinse your face as well. However, it just results in wet floors and laughter. He apologizes but you wave a hand as you smile at him. He gives you a sheepish grin as he pats your face dry.

Perhaps that didn’t go as he planned, but at least you brightened up—even if it were just a few minutes.

Minghao

Minghao sits across from you, an encouraging smile on his lips. You follow suit and copy his sitting position.

He nods once you’ve settled and takes your hands.

“Close your eyes and copy my breathing,” he instructs softly.

Your eyes flutter close, zeroing your focus on the man before you. It’s quiet at first, but then Minghao inhales loud enough for you to hear.

You breathe in.

One.

Two.

Three.

Minghao exhales slowly.

You repeat Minghao’s patterns for an unknown amount of time. You simply let him guide you through whatever meditation practices he often does, which he offered once you told him about your social fatigue.

At first, your mind is still crowded with stress and exhaustion. It’s hard to try to relax when you know you still have more events to come. Though you continue for the sake of pleasing Minghao. You appreciate his time, even if it’s not helping as much.

Minutes pass as you still follow Minghao. Gradually your mind becomes empty—only focusing on the man before you, hands still in his. You don’t even realize how light you feel until Minghao starts pulling away.

Your eyes flutter open and see his gentle smile. You don’t even need to tell him it worked since the look on your face explains it all.

Perhaps you’ll be joining in on his meditation every night from now on.

Seungkwan

Seungkwan’s normally okay with touch. He doesn’t mind the lingering hugs or handholding in public. However, you, on the other hand, have never been as open as him. It’s unusual for you to be openly affectionate. Or at least not for a long time.

Though while visiting a farmers’ market, you cling to him more the entire time. When you encounter another person and have to converse, no matter how short the interaction is, you let Seungkwan do all the talking.

Seungkwan is naturally a talker, so he doesn’t mind taking the lead; however, you don’t even make a peep. Often, you’d at least chime in your two cents, but you don’t do that. No, you stay silent by his side and simply listen.

Seungkwan pulls you aside after a while and asks if you’re okay. When you give him a sad smile and explain you’re just socially exhausted from all your events, he instantly becomes serious. He apologizes for taking you out and not catching on sooner, but you’re not offended at all. You give him a reassuring peck on the cheek and tell him you’re fine, just not up for being around crowds too long.

Seungkwan nods in understanding, then starts leading you back to the parking lot. You tell him you can stay longer, but he refuses. He wants you to be comfortable and happy. He’s seen what he wanted and is perfectly fine heading back.

Halfway home, Seungkwan glances at you in the passenger seat.

“You want some ice cream?”

He smiles knowingly. Ice cream has always been your coping food.

You grin and nod, heart warm at his sweet gesture. Ice cream may be your comfort food, but Seungkwan is your comfort person.

Vernon

Vernon loves to watch movies. So much so that he’s dedicated Friday nights to movie nights. Each night you get to experience a new film with him. Sometimes you both love it, other times you both hate it. And of course, there are times when one loves it more than the other.

After the movies, you end up dissecting it. Some people may find that boring, but you and Vernon share similar hobbies—analyzing movies being one of them.

However, with your frequent social events, you find it difficult to be excited about tonight’s movie.

The movie summary seemed interesting, but your brain feels so drained that you doubt you’ll be paying much attention. Let alone be prepared to engage in a conversation afterward.

When Vernon sits down next to you on the couch, you turn to him reluctantly.

“Do you mind if we rewatch something instead tonight?”

Vernon gives you a confused look. You normally watch new movies, not old ones. When he asks about the reason, you give a summarized answer.

Vernon’s understanding and asks what you’d like to watch. Too fatigued to even think about it, you let him decide. He ends up putting on a movie that you both really enjoyed a few weeks ago. It’s light and easy to follow, yet it had spurred you both to talk about it for hours—somehow getting into a deep conversation.

You snuggle into his side while the opening credits play. He moves one of his arms around your shoulders, rubbing it tenderly. Although it’s not a traditional movie night, you’re glad you still get to participate in it regardless.

Chan

Chan would like to seem more observant than he really is. He would like to say he knew why you were so distant or why you seemed temperamental. However, he can’t. What he does know is that you’re not as bright as you are normally. He knows everyone has their ups and downs, but your down has been occurring long enough to worry him.

He’s standing in line at the grocery store ready to check out when his phone rings. He smiles when he sees your ID; however, your response is not what he expected.

You’re crying.

You’re sniffling and hiccupping so much that it’s hard for Chan to understand what you’re saying. He coos at you, trying to calm you down so he can grasp what’s going on.

After a minute, you’re finally able to tell him you’re overwhelmed coherently. Your social battery has run out of juice and all you want to do is come home.

“I’ll be right there, baby,” he says instantly.

He leaves his cart, apologizing profusely to the worker who eyes him at the act, then beelines it to his car.

It doesn’t matter that he spent an hour picking out food. It doesn’t matter that he was waiting in line for fifteen minutes. He just needs to be there for you.

Chan stays on the line throughout the drive. He keeps you up to date on how far he is and continues to reassure you that it’ll be okay.

He meets you outside the building and engulfs you in the most secure and loving hug. He holds you against his chest, letting you wet his shirt with your tears while he rubs your back soothingly.

“How does leaving a little early sound?” he suggests.

Normally, you try to stick it out. You have a responsibility and want to fulfill your duty. However, all these non-stop events have drained you beyond recognition.

You nod and quickly text a friend at the event that you’ve started to feel sick and need to leave.

You let Chan take care of you the rest of the day. He brings you food in bed, takes care of some house chores that you planned to do, and gives you plenty of cuddles and kisses.

a/n: i feel like i've entered a whole new world by writing a reaction/imagine 🤣 (i haven't, but im just dramatic)

divider credit

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

#svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt reactions #seventeen reactions #svt fanfic #svt fluff #svt hurt/comfort #svt x reader #svt scoups #svt jeonghan #svt joshua #svt jun #svt hoshi #svt wonwoo #svt woozi #svt dk #svt dokyeom #svt mingyu #svt minghao #svt seungkwan #svt vernon #svt dino #svt chan #seventeen fanfic #svt drabble #svt x y/n #requests

[disneyprincemuke]

» disneyprincemuke's f1 masterlist

series

vettel reincarnate * female!driver -> after retiring from formula 1 at the end of the 2022 season, f1 legend sebastian vettel realised a while after the announcement that he would miss the paddock way too much. instead of taking back his announcement, he pairs up with an up-and-coming driver and gets her a seat in a race car in formula 1.

in another life * female!driver x logan sargeant -> "if not in this universe, do you think we're at least together in another?" "there has to be at least one where we're happy."

it's nice to have a friend * logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver -> it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

i'm giving up your ghost * multiple drivers -> i’d live in these stories forever if it means being with you

fast times and fast nights * f1 grid as wags -> what do you expect when you put the grid and their partners on a reality show?

i said "i love you" * valentine's day special -> different reactions to the phrase

max verstappen

midnights -> a compilation of lonely midnights shared between you and max following your breakup

5 times -> there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there’s the time that he finally let you know

3 times -> you've had a crush on the racing prodigy for as long as you've known him - you had your own troubles biting back on words too.

glitter -> it’s the morning after a party, and you find yourself tangled up in bed with your boyfriend

the other woman -> everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

charles leclerc

i quit drinking -> you were never one to turn down alcohol. when you do, it causes a ruckus among your friends.

to forget you -> you avoided alcohol to forget the likes of charles, but he coped by drowning himself in the very same thing that reminded him of you

you called -> you called, so he came.

george russell

sex -> it was supposed to be just sex

be mine -> your last night together ended on a bad note, and now you’re back after months to explain yourself

alex albon

love like this -> alex may be the reason your parents are separating, but he proves to you that soulmates still exist

get this right -> the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

first podiums -> it’s her first win in formula one as a female driver and her boyfriend can’t be any happier for her

logan sargeant

take my hand * prince!logan -> the princess, to inherit the throne after marriage, is having the hardest time trying to find a man to wed. until, a certain duke of somewhere comes riding in to ask for her hand

our spot -> a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years

our spot, 2 -> it’s about two weeks since you last saw logan and you find him sitting all alone in the dark

oscar's girl / logan's girl -> logan never thought he would meet the girl that broke oscar’s heart

where the fun begins * frat!logan (college!mick) -> logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc

to the moon and back * dad!logan -> the misadventures of little luna sargeant

carlos sainz

one of your girls -> you’re just another name in black ink in his long list of girls, and you should know better. so why are you at his apartment in the middle of the night after weeks of radio silence?

oscar piastri

logan's girl -> oscar truly never thought he would ever see the girl that was the cause of his first ever heartbreak

mastermind -> oscar did not expect that he had to share a bed with you during his trip to visit you over his break

mick schumacher

no other shade of blue, but you -> you didn't have a favourite colour up until you met him

where the fun begins * college!mick (frat!logan) -> logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc

invisible string -> unbeknownst to you, there was a force that was pulling you and mick together your entire lives

#sebastian vettel x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #george russell x reader #carlos sainz x reader #oscar piastri x reader #mick schumacher x reader #alex albon x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke masterlist

[dreamtinblackandwhite]

give & take

summary: bruce wayne x female!reader learning what their partner likes during sex

word count: 832

warnings: NSFW, SMUT, mentions of fingering, oral (both receiving), p in v sex, overstimulated, praise kink, degradation kink, face fucking, i think that's it?

an: let me know what you think of this one! it's not much but i wanted to get it out of my brain :)

bruce is such a giver.

he was so touch deprived when you first starting seeing each other that he just wants to shower you in appreciation for giving this back to him.

every night before he heads out to patrol, he’d burry his face between your thighs and greedily fingerfucks you until you’re seeing stars

every time the two of you are required to go to a public event, he’d make sure to find a secluded room where he would get on his knees for you after seeing you in that dress

if your response after he asks how your day was is anything less than ‘great, love, yours?’ he’d tug you off towards his bed and spend hours kissing every single inch of your body

praising you because he knows how much you love it:

‘such a good girl’, ‘you are so gorgeous squeezing around my fingers’, ‘you are doing so good, darling’, ‘you can cum again, I know you can.’, ‘be a good girl and moan my name while I tease this perfect clit, beautiful.’

this man would worship the ground you walk on and is utterly obsessed with every part of you

there were signs of him wanting more though. the way his eyes would widen and he'd blush so cutely after you told him it was okay to be rough with you. you'd tell him every night how you want to shower him with the same affection he gives you. but he’d ignore you to burry his face into your dripping cunt again whimpering and whining about how much he loves you.

you could see him fall into the blissful high of your warm folds wrapping around his cock so perfectly and he slowly would lose his composure. fucking you as if he didn't know you, plowing into you like his access to oxygen depended on it. his rough strokes against your sensitive core seemed to speak how much he loved using you - you just needed to drag that out of him.

you waited in the batcave for him on a stormy night that you couldn’t sleep. ‘what are you doing awake, darling?’ He’d ask as he slipped his cowl off with a concerned tone to his voice. you didn't need to say anything. just walk up to him and slowly peel layer by layer of his suit off, dragging your finger tips across each muscle, bruise, fresh cut, or healed scar as you exposed his skin.

‘you could have waited in bed if you wanted me,’ reaching for you, wanting to see more of your skin than what you were offering. you’d stop his hands before they could touch you, using them as anchorage as you floated to the floor on your knees. never breaking eye contact.

he’d already be hard, even innocent touches from you were enough to spark that reaction. but there was something about seeing how well you were swallowing him down, drooling and gagging around him with no care in the world...

there was no denying that bruce craved control. that’s part of the reason he goes out, he wants to control the crime of Gotham.

but this was different. you were strong, independent, you didn’t need bruce, you had all the control in your own life. but here you were, on your knees for him. His. His beautiful and perfect equal.

you saw the shift in his eyes when he accepted how much he loved this. his fingers tangling in your hair as a low groan rumbled from his chest. ‘good fucking girl,’ his eye bored into yours, drinking up the sight of you degrading yourself for him as tears formed in the corner of your eyes. ‘you’re prettiest when you’re messy like this for me.' he's never respect you more - you had so much power but you set it aside for him. this was his bliss.

and that’s when you both found the perfect blend of kinks. he felt the whimper he fucked into your throat and saw the familiar glint in your eye as you desperately rolled your hips forward. ‘you like this, don’t you? love being my secret little cocksucker, fully knowing you’ll turn around tomorrow and command respect.’ you’d nod your head, still working your mouth feverishly around his cock.

‘i love it too, baby,’ a moan would escape him that belonged in a porno as he twitched in your throat, fucking his hips into your face. his head would fall backwards at the disgustingly lewd sounds coming from your perfect lips only making his grip on your head tighten and his pace rougher. ‘take my cock like a good slut. y’ve such a good throat for me.’

after you swallowed his sticky load, he’d all but fall to his knees in front of you and hug you close, whispering little thank yous as he kissed your hair. ‘you were right,’ he’d finally say before kissing you hungrily and starting his favorite task of forcing you to cum until you’re overstimulated.

#battinson #robert pattinson #bruce wayne #robert pattinson x reader #battinson fanfiction #battinson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #robert pattinson au #bruce wayne x y/n #robert pattinson x yn #bruce wayne smut #battinson smut #the batman #batman x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman fanfic

[blue-slxt]

Kinkmas 1

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Merry Kinkmas! I'm so excited to participate in another event like this! Just as a heads up, a lot of my pieces this time around are shorter than my Kinktober ones. I still hope that you enjoy them though! All characters are aged up!

Kinkmas Masterlist

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Na'vi!Reader x Ao'nung

Warnings: Cockwarming, Poly Relationship, Anal Penetration, Teasing

You were so incredibly full. It was one thing to have a mate that always wanted to be near you, but your situation was a bit unique with your two mates. It wasn’t unusual, but the two of them always wanted to be up under you at all times. Even when you slept at night, neither of them were satisfied with simply holding you. It wasn’t close enough for their liking. They opted instead to sleep with both their cocks buried to the hilt inside the welcoming squeeze of both of your holes. 

Ao'nung stayed nestled behind you, one hand resting lazily on your thigh. His light, steady breathing is only interrupted by the occasional kiss he gave you on the nape of your neck. Neteyam rested in front of you keeping you lovingly pressed into his chest. He kept a hand on your waist while his hips were angled upwards to press further into your gummy walls. 

Being pressed between both of them left you in a tangled mess of limbs thrown messily over each other.

It was hard for you to even think about sleep with both of them keeping you filled like this. Every little move let you feel both of them rubbing inside of you. 

You knew Ao'nung was a deep sleeper. There was no way you would be able to wake him with how content he was right now. 

“Teyam” you whisper.

Luckily, Neteyam was a much lighter sleeper than your other mate. He hums a response lightly to you, still keeping his eyes closed. 

“Teyam…’m so full”, you whine trying to grind your hips on him, but all that does is push you back on Ao'nung’s cock and stretch you open more. A staggered breath escapes your lips feeling the increasing pressure. 

“I know, yawne. But we need sleep tonight.” he coos gently at you. Despite you being able to feel how his dick is twitching inside of your fluttering cunt, his face is still calm as ever. 

“But Nete…need you to move…please”

“I’ll tell you what, if you sleep tonight, I’ll make sure to take extra good care of you in the morning.” he slowly drags himself out of you to just the tip only to push inch after inch back into your waiting walls. 

You bite your lip trying to stifle a moan.

“Can you do that for me, tìyawn?” He says cupping your face with his hand and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. He finally opens his eyes half way to look down at your desperate, blushing face. 

You are nothing short of gorgeous. If he weren’t so exhausted right now, Neteyam would absolutely have his way with you just like this. But he hopes that his promise of morning relief will be enough to satiate you for now. Luckily for him, you nod your head in agreement, making a small smile settle on his lips. 

“That’s my good girl”, he kisses your forehead and settles himself to try and go to sleep. 

Even though you agreed to wait until the morning, you still know sleep won’t come so soon. So you resign yourself to a long night of staring at the wooden posts of your marui until your body gives out, but Ao'nung’s voice quietly whispers in your ear, “Want me to help you out, paskalin?”

Taglist: @minnory @sussybaka10 @celess0 @funkyflamingo01 @itchaboi-itchyboy @loaksulluyswife @myloveforyouisforever @neteyams-wh0re @the-mourning-moon @wakanda-forever-andotherfandoms @zafrinaxyz @neteyamsyawntu @pandoraslxna @xylianasblog @hotdsworld @teyamsatan @sulieykte @neteyamsoare @neteyamswillow @cryinginthemoonpool @plooto @eywaite @quaritchsluts @jakexneytiri @luvv4j4ybe11 @eywascall

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #avatar the way of water #awow #avatar fic #avatar smut #neteyam sully #awow smut #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar twow #atwow neteyam #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam smut #neteyam imagine #avatar 2 #aonung x fem!reader #aonung smut #ao’nung #aonung imagine #aonung x reader #aonung #avatar

[bby-deerling]

she's out of my life (law x reader)

part of my 1600 follower event (ignore that i've been putting this off forever, i've rewritten this like 4 times)! prompt is: so i've learned, that love's not possession, and i've learned, that love won't wait, now i've learned, that love needs expression, but i've learned too late

cw: hurt/comfort, angst, night terrors, angst with a happy ending, law is bad with emotions

tagging: @willowbelle @sanjisjuul @eelnoise @sanjisprincesswifey @ragethebunny @kaizokuniichan @mirillua @cloudzoro @risenwrites @atanukileaf

wc: 655 masterlist || commissions

So determined to keep you safe by not fully opening his heart and mind to you, Law hadn’t even realized he was losing you.

He hadn’t been hurting you consciously, and didn’t put the pieces fully together until you cornered him and released a floodgate of emotions that had been steadily creeping up on you for months.  You had a laundry list of complaints—none of them completely unwarranted.  Despite the way he would often fume with jealousy at the slightest hint of provocation, he kept you at arm’s length, unable to open up in the way that you had for him.  He was a vampire, feeding from you, doing nothing but take as he ignored the tears in your eyes that begged for something, anything in return.

You were done—you’d made up your mind before the conversation had even started, and there was nothing he could do or say to change your mind.

He grabs your wrist as you move to leave, and a swell of hope floods his chest as you turn around, only for it to be snuffed out as your hand smacks him brutally hard across the face.  A mixture of pain and tingles from the aftershock spread through his cheek and make him unbearably dizzy as his ears ring unbearably loud; his legs weaken not long after, collapsing under the weight of his own mistakes.

The burning slap across his face dampens into soft taps across his cheeks, and the metaphorical weight on his chest feels so much more tangible as his vision goes fuzzy and fades to black.  Far away mumbles of his name sprinkled in between soft pleas for him to wake up become clearer as his mind rolls around in his skull, disoriented and deep in shock.  The sweet sound of your voice coaxes him back into lucidity, though the sight of you hovering over him, thighs on either side of his torso and your worried gaze locked onto his stormy, glazed over eyes does little to soothe his racing heart.  Chapped lips press roughly against his cheek as the palm of your hand cups his face; many nights on both your parts had been spent comforting each other after being trapped in the throes of a night terror, but they always revolved around the past—for the first time, Law is terrified of the future.  Scared of his lack of verbal reassurance to you coming back to bite him, of his inability to express how much he cares about you having the potential to push you away, and of the unspoken secrets he keeps close to his chest driving him apart from you.

Ignorant to the overwhelming swirling of emotions coursing through his veins, you nuzzle into the crook of his neck and lazily press sleepy kisses along seam connecting his neck to his collarbone. “I love you, Law.” you whisper softly into his skin.  He can feel the strings of your heart tug bittersweetly as the words leave your mouth, making his heart twinge with guilt as the contents of his nightmare flood his mind once more. 

Each night before bed, you murmur those words to him with such devotion and care, and with full knowledge they wouldn’t be returned, and yet still, hope hangs on the tip of your tongue and remains unaddressed—you simply tuck the unpleasant lack of reciprocation away, press a kiss to his forehead and tangle your limbs with his.

Each night you give yourself to him whole, only to get chewed up and spit out.

It’s not sustainable, and he knows it.

So determined to not lose you, Law swallows the lump in his throat and whispers, “Me too—so much.”  He isn’t quite able to get the words out just yet, but the starry look in your eyes as you push yourself up to meet his gaze with a bright smile tells him it’s more than enough for now.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x you #law x you #law x y/n #one piece fanfiction #one piece drabble #one piece scenario #one piece fanfic

[doumadono]

Happy 5k celebration! A cup of raspberry ice creams topped with whipped cream and maple syrup for me - Sukuna who has a massive degradation kink

Warnings: smut w/o plot, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, rough smut

A/N: thank you so much for your support, dear Nonnie; it really means the world to me

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

You were an ordinary woman, living in a small village in the middle of nowhere. Your fellow villagers believed in an ancient creature powerful enough to grant them long life. Year after year, they would select a young woman to sacrifice to appease the deity. Unfortunately, this year, it was your turn.

You were frightened as they led you to the old temple, dressed in a white dress — a symbol of your purity and innocence.

The place appeared deserted, but as soon as the heavy wooden door closed behind the last person leaving, a chuckle echoed through the air. It was a dark, deep sound, much like the rumble of an approaching storm. Suddenly, from out of the pure darkness, a tall, muscular figure emerged.

"Kneel," Sukuna commanded, his voice echoing off the temple walls.

You obeyed, your heart pounding in your chest as you knelt before him without giving his command a second thought.

Sukuna stood in front of you, his cock hardening in his pants as he watched you submit so willingly to him. He reached out, gripping your chin firmly and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You exist to serve me, Y/N," he growled, his eyes burning with desire. "Nothing more. You're just a flesh that was made for me to use."

You nodded, your breath hitching as you felt a thrill run down your spine.

Sukuna released your chin, unzipping his pants and pulling out his thick, hard cock. "Now, be a good little minion and suck it," he ordered, thrusting his hips forward.

You didn't hesitate, wrapping your lips around his cock and taking him into your warm mouth.

Ryomen groaned, his hands tangling in your Y/H/C hair as he guided your head, making you take him deeper. "That's it, Y/N," he grunted, his hips moving in a rhythmic motion as he fucked your mouth. "You're such a good little slut."

You moaned around his cock, your eyes fluttering closed as you savored the taste of his salty precum, your warm tears stained your rosy cheeks. You could feel yourself getting wet, even though you shouldn't; your pussy already throbbing with need at the slightest thought of his massive shaft being stuffed in your tiny hole. You stopped thinking straight.

Sukuna pulled out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. He pushed you down onto the mat, spreading you legs wide nonchalantly. He quickly pulled up the hem of your dress, prompting you to raise your arms so he could remove the fabric. He then knelt between your thighs, his fingers tracing the wetness on your clothed pussy.

You whimpered, your hips bucking up against the heel of his hand. "My lord," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.

He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek before moving down to your exposed neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He then moved his hand lower, cupping your breast, his thumb brushing against your perky nipple.

You let out a soft gasp, your eyes fluttering closed. It all felt good, so so good.

Sukuna smirked, tearing your panties apart with one swift motion. Slowly, with an agonizing pace, he lowered his head and ran his tongue over your clit. He licked you, his tongue exploring your slick folds, his hands holding your hips steady, pinning them to the mat. He then inserted a finger into your core, his thumb rubbing your clit.

You cried out, your fingers gripping the mat as waves of pleasure washed over your body.

Sukuna licked and sucked on your delicate clit, his fingers sliding into your pussy, making you moan louder, just for him. He could feel you tightening around his fingers, your body trembling as you neared your peak. But he didn't let you come, pulling away just as you were about to experience your very first climax. "Not yet, little whore," he taunted, his cock throbbing in his pants as he watched you writhe in frustration. "You don't get to come until I say so. Look at yourself. Pathetic! So inexperienced yet letting me fuck your needy hole raw."

Your cheeks were flushed as you whimpered, nodding slowly. "M-Master…"

Sukuna smirked, opening his pants and pulling his massive member out, aligning the huge, mushroom tip with your entrance and thrusting into you in one swift motion, not giving you time to adjust whatsoever. "Yeah, that's it, dirty whore. That's it. Sucking all of my cock in already, well, well. Such a needy brat. Such a dirty harlot."

You cried out, your nails digging into his forearms placed on the both sides of your head as he filled you completely, bottoming up in your tight pussy. The searing pain consumed your thoughts, and tears streamed down your cheeks as you panted quietly, trying to relax in hopes of easing the pain.

Sukuna groaned, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. "Your pussy feels so good, little minion. That's all you were made for. To be fucked stupid. To be used by me. You're nothing but a fucking piece of meat I can do whatever I want with, you little harlot."

You whimpered, parting your legs wider.

Sukuna's thrusts became harder, faster, primal. His cock hitting that sweet, spongy spot inside you that made you see all white. He began to increase his pace, his cock sliding in and out of your slick pussy. He fucked you rough and hard, his hips slamming into yours, your bodies slick with sweat.

You could feel a tight knot building within your tummy, your body trembling as pleasing warmth started to spread all of your being.

"Come for me, little bitch," Sukuna growled, his fingers digging into your hips as he slammed into you. Sukuna groaned, his pace quickening. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening. He grabbed your hips, raising them up from the mat and pulling you closer, his cock going deeper into your pussy at the new angle. "Open you mouth."

You were a moaning mess beneath him, and you didn't comply right away, so Ryomen simply slapped your cheek.

"Open your useless mouth!"

You complied, opening your mouth.

Sukuna leaned in close, spitting a glob of his saliva directly into your mouth. "Now, swallow," he commanded.

You screamed, complying; your body convulsing as you came hard around his cock, your velvety walls spasming rhythmically around the monstrous shaft stuffed in you.

Sukuna followed soon after, his cock pulsing as he filled you with a thick ropes of his cum.

The temple was silent, save your heavy breathing.

Sukuna pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your abused pussy. "Clean it up, mortal," he ordered, his voice still laced with authority as he pointed to his cock that stood proud still.

You obeyed, moving to position yourself between his legs and taking his softening cock into your mouth. You sucked and licked him clean, your eyes locked on his.

Sukuna yanked your head away by your hair, glancing down at your used form with a smirk. "I think this year's offering is the best these pathetic men have ever given me."

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk sukuna #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #sukuna #x reader smut #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #smut writing #smut fanfiction #divider by cafekitsune

[nomazee]

Um hello! Is the 1k event thingy still up?? If so I would like to request a classmate! Dr ratio x reader at 2:47 am?

it's actually sickening how much fun i had with this i was giggling at my own jokes while typing this out... this was so fun to write THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!!

my 1k event!

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A blaring, aggravating, shrill sound wakes you up. Your hands go to cover your ears, protecting your sanity from the noise ringing somewhere from the tangle of sheets on your bed. Hands flailing around desperately to find the source of the piercing chimes, you writhe around in agony until you finally latch onto your phone. 

The brightness of the screen digs into your corneas as you lift up the device to see the caller ID of whoever had the guts to bother you on a school night. 

It comes to no surprise that the caller name reads “VERITAS FUCKING RATIO” in all caps with no contact photo. Your eye twitches and the grip on your phone tightens, just a hair away from leaving finger-shaped dents in the metal. 

Begrudgingly, you answer the call, tucking the phone next to your ear with nothing less than displeasure. “Veritas. Why are you calling me at—” you pull your phone back to check, “—almost three in the morning?” 

“The works cited page,” Veritas Fucking Ratio informs you matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of sleepiness in his voice, nothing that could possibly chip away at his good image, of course. “You did it in the wrong format. It’s supposed to be APA. This is a science project, not a literature project.” 

You might kill him. The project in question is to be presented tomorrow— today at ten in the morning. Ratio and you had been working on it for an entire two weeks, broken up into intermittent hour-long sessions because he was adamant that you split up the work instead of rushing to do it all the night before. Stupid self-righteous gorgeous beautiful academic genius-freak. Yeah, it definitely helped you in the long run, but he acted so sanctimonious about it that you refused to admit the benefits. 

“Veritas,” you imbue the syllables of his name with poison, as much as you can when you’re swaying as you sit up on your bed and fighting demons to not fall back asleep. “This is such an easily-fixed thing. Do you know what time it is right now? Why are you even awake? You know, I am supposed to get a full seven hours of sleep every night, and I was already cutting it short today, and you woke me up before I could even hit REM sleep. Do you know how upsetting this is? Fix the goddamn works cited yourself!” 

For once, Veritas is at a loss for words. The other end of the line is so quiet that you have to double check and make sure he hasn’t just hung up on you. Perspiration builds on your palms, thinking that this is it—this is the exact moment that you make Veritas-Fucking-Ratio snap and delete your name off the project credit slide, and you’re going to get a 0 because he will wipe off any evidence of your work from this plane of existence, and you will spend the rest of your measly life chasing after your MLA-turned-APA works cited page, too-little-too-late. 

“I’m awake because the— well.” He pauses, and his voice sounds so far away and unobtrusive that you’re almost worried. Your breath stills in the middle of your diaphragm. Waiting. “The works cited is one thing. But I wanted you to look at the slides, if you can.” 

If you can, he says, as if he’s giving you a choice, which he literally never has during this entire process. You had no role in choosing the topic, or the slide theme, or what days you worked on the project, or how often you worked on the project (because god forbid you procrastinate a little bit, right?!), but now, at almost three in the morning, Veritas is saying something along the lines of oh please my dearest project partner, I request that you open the Google Slides at once, but only if you would like to! I would never infringe on your free will at three in the morning, because I respect you as a partner. Or something like that. That was pretty much the gist of it. 

A raspy sigh escapes you, and you claw your busted laptop off the nightstand next to you, opening it up and squinting at the LED screen as you punch in your passcode. “You know, I have done a good job at going along with all of your whims, Veritas, the least you could do is fix the works cited for me. Seriously, how did you even miss that? You’re so detail-oriented, but you didn't even realize the format was wrong until tonight? Who even cares, seriously… it’s just a slideshow…” 

Your voice trails off as the slideshow presentation finally loads in. You see Veritas’ default profile picture blink in the upper right-hand corner, signaling that he’s viewing the slideshow with you. The slideshow which has apparently undergone a huge makeover. 

It’s—pleasant to look at. This entire time, you and Veritas had been editing a default, white-background black-serif-font-text slideshow. He refused to change it, telling you that it’s unprofessional to do anything too embellished, to which you fruitlessly said, Veritas, we will die early deaths because of the hole in the ozone layer, would you at least make it easier on my poor soul by letting me choose a pokemon-theme slide? Veritas had pretended like he couldn't hear you (in a very quiet library room, mind you), but the twitch in his brow gave him away. 

Now, though, the slides are decorated. It’s a really nice theme, complete with custom icons and graphic blobs of color—your favorite color, might you add. It’s—pretty. Dare you say, cute, but you think Veritas would vaporize your entire presentation if you called it cute. 

“Did you— this— did you pay for this slide theme?” 

“You— n— mn,” he trails off into an unintelligible mash of mumbling, and you hear a loud THUD that sounds awfully like the phone being thrown onto a mattress. Fabric shuffles around, before you hear Veritas’ voice again, clear and composed. “Sorry. I dropped my phone.” What a loser, and a liar, and an endearing freak. You really wish he video called you because you need to see his totally-very-ugly face. 

“I thought this was unprofessional, Veritas,” you say teasingly, a smile lining your words as you try not to giggle right into the phone. “What made you have a change of heart?” 

“Nothing,” the typical firmness of his voice has returned, much to your dismay. “The works cited is still wrong. You have to fix it.” 

“Oh, whatever you say, honored Ratio,” you open up your trusty citation-generator, ready for a long fifteen minutes of copying and pasting information. “Hey, you must be free after class tomorrow, right? Since the project is pretty much over, right?” 

“Yes,” Veritas answers after a moment of hesitation, only a hint of doubt in his voice. 

“That’s great. Keep your schedule clear, then.” 

(You fix the works cited slide, wish Veritas sweet dreams, and then wake up in the morning to completely ace your presentation. The minute the period ends, you drag him out of the classroom and into a coffee shop, paying for some five dollar pastry and joking that it’s payback for the cute slideshow theme that he definitely paid five dollars for. Veritas is an awful liar, and you tell him that, and he can’t even find the strength to deny it.)

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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or general taglist (navi) to be tagged in upcoming works!

#nora hits 1k #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dr. ratio x reader #honkai x reader #ratio x reader #i love this man he's like a wet piece of bark #like a rained-on plank of wood #this drabble is longer than my dan heng one im sick... dr ratio will not overtake my favorites leaderboard.

[croimilis]

The Arrangement

title:  the arrangement

characters:  bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x doctor!mitchell!reader (rooster calls them angel)

words: 20k +

themes: childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fake dating (minor), fluff, , smut, mutual pinning, idiots not realising they’re in love

rating: 18+

warnings: female identifying reader and female anatomy used, mentions of parental and canon character death, panic attacks, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), rooster has a lieutenant kink, rooster in dress whites, praise kink, unprotected sex, scratching, biting, cream pie, overstimulation

summary: 'he laughed, my darling you will never be unloved by me you are too well tangled in my soul' @atticuspoetry

You and rooster made an arrangement when you were 18 years old, that if either of you needed a date to an event and you were both single you would be each others date, you try your best to be at every celebration and ceremony for your education and respective careers. you managed to keep this up for a while, but the life of a doctor and the life of a navy aviator never seem to line up and suddenly you find yourself not only cities but countries away from one another and the arrangement falls to the background of your minds that is until you move to San Diego and Rooster finds himself calling on your arrangement one last time.

a/n:  this ended up being sooo long and i am (not) sorry about it, i got so carried away with it. also this is the dress i imagined when writing this. also, i don’t consistently refer to Rooster as Bradley or Rooster in this, it switches so often. i also apologise if the smut is bad, i don’t write it often. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT this is an 18+ piece, I will be checking blogs that interact so please have an age indicator somewhere on your blog. this is part of the ‘fly me to the moon universe’

Rooster was sure the world stopped the minute you walked through the doors behind your father, it had been over 10 years since he had last seen you and yet he knew it was you instantly. If anybody asked, he would say it was your eyes that gave you away as being (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell. The same emerald green as your father, full of life and happiness as they crinkled at the sides when you smiled at Penny across the bar, giving your soon to be step mother a wave as your father guided you through the crowd and straight towards the group of aviators that made up the dagger squadron. 

Realising your destination, Rooster's heart began to beat erratically as he stood from his bent position where he had been planning on taking his shot at the pool table, causing a confused look and a 'dude' from Hangman. Out of all the ways he had imagined and dreamed about reuniting with you, he never would have imagined it happened in Fightertown, never mind at the Hard Deck.

Yet here you are, getting closer and closer and he swears his heart is gonna beat straight out of his chest. You're beautiful, you always had been but what had once been a soft and innocent beauty when you were younger and never knew a life without Bradley had turned into sharp edges and maturity as you found what it meant to be your own person without him. He was awestruck to put it lightly as his eyes stalked you through the bar until you were standing just at the other end of the pool table, Mavericks arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder as he made introductions. 

“Everybody this is my daughter, Dr (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell.” With a smile you rolled your eyes at your father's insistence on using your title, he was very proud of everything you accomplished in your life and career and while he very rarely actually used the words ‘I’m proud of you’ he always made sure to show it when he showed you off to other people. “Please call me (Y/N/N)” 

With pleasant smiles and shaking hands everyone introduced themselves, though you had heard about all of them so many times you were sure you could pick out each and everyone member of the dagger squad by name if you tried. Your eyes moved over them all the same as they introduced themselves, taking in their features and finally putting faces to names. Maverick was the absolute worst at having pictures on his phone, preferring to keep a hard copy of photos in his hanger and you were never around the hanger anymore, much to busy with your own life that you could only really talk to your father over the phone, especially considering he was usually on the other side of the country or world. But maybe now that dagger squad had become a permanent fixture at Top Gun for whenever they were needed and you had taken a job in San Diego (that Mav was still completely unaware of) you would see the old man a little more. 

Your eyes finally made their way to the other side of the pool table where the WSO Bob sat with a small smile on his face as he introduced himself, finally your eyes met with Roosters and he swears he nearly melted at the sight, at the friendliness and tenderness towards him that remained after all these years, and your smile. God your smile still made him weak at the goddamn knees and he silently curses to himself about how you still have such an effect on him and how he should be over his silly childhood crush. “Bradley”

Walking around the pool table, Rooster gladly opens his arms for you as you unwrap your father from your shoulder and meet him in the middle, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wraps his around your shoulders, placing a kiss to your forehead as he does. It was comforting, to the both of you, it was something he always did before you grew apart, when you were still an everyday presence in each other's lives. You had missed it. It had been far too long since you had even spoken to each other, never mind seeing each other. “Hey angel.”

The familiarity of the nickname warms you from the inside, or maybe that was just the heavy radiating of Bradley as he held you in his arms. Or maybe it was the flush slowly spreading up your body and making its way to your face as you relish in how nice it feels to be held by him once again, or maybe it is because you're thinking about just how handsome Bradley had become since you last saw him. 

He had always had a bit of boyish charm about him, that cheeky smile he usually sported that was so similar to that of his fathers always drew the ladies in when he was turned their way pair that with the fact that he was always athletic and fit and you had a deadly combination that turned Rooster into quite the heart throb when he was younger. But now, you swear he's never looked better, even as he sports that ridiculous mustache he started growing when he was in college, all rugged muscles and that same charming smile alongside the new air of confidence and maturity that was unrecognizable to you.  

Never one to have a moment taken from him, the voice of Hangman forces the two of you to seperate, though you still stand close to one another. “How long you in town for?” With a gentle chuckle you cross yours arms over your chest and appraise but your father and Bradley before you answered, they both looked expectant. You had told your father you were in Fighter town for around 2 weeks but had yet to drop the bombshell that you were relocating to San Diego permanently. 

“Well I’m in Fighter town for the next 2 weeks, staying at an air bnb close to the base.” You eyed your father as he sent you a small glare, he didn’t know you were coming and so he couldn’t insist on you staying with him and Penny and that was deliberate not only did you want to surprise him but you wanted your own space, somewhere you could retreat too if need be and have some time to yourself because you were sure that every moment he could your father would be at your side to make up for not only the time he missed as an adult but the time he missed out on when you were a kid. “But after that…I am permanently relocating to San Diego.” 

You had to bite your lip to stop the giggle that tickled your throat as both Bradley and Maverick whipped their heads round to stare at you, mouths and eyes wide with shock. “(Y/N) (M/N) Florence-Mitchell!” You had to giggle at your dad’s tone as you turned to look at him with innocent eyes and a small smirk, “Yes?” Though Mav tried his hardest to look stern and serious, ready to scold you for not telling him, he can’t help but smile at the fact that you weren’t going to be so far away now. 

“What?” Now you turned to Bradley, who’s shocked expression had lessened a little but you could tell from the pinch of his brows and the down turn of his lips that he was still confused. “I wanted to surprise my dad, that was the whole purpose of this trip. Safe to say I surprised him. But I uh, I got offered head  of the ED and trauma at one of the hospitals in San Diego a few weeks back and I accepted it. Spent the last few weeks sorting out a place to live and getting ready to move, I start there in 3 weeks.” 

Strong arms wrap around you as Maverick brings you into a tight hug with a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. “That's amazing news kid.” As he lets you go, your eyes meet with Bradley’s and you smile at him, which he reciprocates before turning to Phoenix who pulls his attention away from you and back to the pool game they were playing. 

Though now he was playing much worse than he was before, he was sloppy as his eyes followed you as you flitted between the crowd of aviators getting to know everyone and he was sure Phoenix would kick his ass in the morning for making them lose against the tag-team of Hangman and Coyote but he couldn’t bring himself to care, though she wasn’t really going to catching onto the love sick look on her friends face the minute he caught sight of you. All he cared about was the fact that you were here and even when you left you would only be 30 minutes away from him and he was determined to not let you slip out of his life once again. 

------

The next time Bradley sees you is three days later, not that he’s counting or anything, and the squad are on the beach playing some dog fight football to relax after a grueling training session with Maverick. You had been at the Hard Deck with Penny and Amelia looking at some bridesmaid dresses for the pair of you to wear at the upcoming wedding of Penny and Maverick, your eyes occasionally moving from the laptop in front of you down the beach to where they were playing. You had to admit it was quite the sight and you just couldn’t help yourself from watching, I mean who could blame you.

The sight of the 12 aviators, excluding Hondo and Mav who were now sitting on the sidelines enjoying just watching their squad enjoy themselves, shirtless and sweaty would make even a nun stop and stare. But your eyes were on one particular aviator and his on you, it seemed that every time you looked over his eyes were already on you, a smirk on his face as he sends a wink your way that has you rolling your eyes everytime. 

“So… you and Rooster.” Penny’s voice pulls you away from your staring and you turn to her with a questioning look that she rolls her eyes at with a scoff. “Oh come on (Y/N), I’m not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other, you can’t tell me there’s nothing there.” 

With a gentle huff, you fold your arms and place them on the table in front of you, pushing your laptop forward slightly as you do, “There is nothing there Penny. He was my best friend for 23 years and then we drifted apart, him busy becoming one of the best naval pilots currently serving and me busy becoming the best doctor I could.” A soft hmm falls from Penny’s lips, one that perfectly conveys a very sarcastic ‘I believe you’, “Are you sure about that? You didn’t see the way his entire face lit up when he saw you in the Hard Deck the other day, I swear that boy looked like he was on cloud 9 the minute he held you in his arms,”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head at your step mother and tell her once again that there is nothing romantic about your relationship with Bradley. At least now anyway, but you would never tell her about the fact you’re pretty sure you were in love with him in college. “Bullshit.” Eyes widening in shock, you turn to Amelia with your mouth open and she at least looks a little bashful about her outburst obviously not meaning to say it out loud as her cheeks flush a little and her mouth gapes a little. 

“Sorry,” her eyes flit to her mother, expecting to be scolded but Penny is simply watching her with amusement in her eyes, “but it’s true.” Leaning forward in her chair, Amelia places her head in her palm as her eyes flit between you and the aviators on the beach. “Look, I know I’m only a teenger and I know nothing about relationship and being in love and all that adult stuff” at the words ‘adult stuff’ she uses air quotes that makes you let out a small chuckle, “but Rooster looks at you the same way Mav looks at Mom, and from the photos I’ve seen the way Goose looked at your aunt Carole.”  

Moving to look down the beach once again, you smile as you see the aviators carrying Bob about on their shoulders with a small chant of his name, Rooster is once again looking at you and this time you give him a small wave and a smile as he offers you a salute in return. Behind your back, Penny and Amelia share a knowing glance and a smile seeing how completely fucking  gone you were for Bradley Bradshaw. “Why don’t you go bring them down some bears to cool them off? Maybe you and Rooster can talk a little.” 

Though you rolled your eyes, knowing Penny was simply scheming, you did as she suggested, pilling some beer into a cooler she had on hand and carrying it down the beach to where your dad and the rest of the squad sat as they took a breather. Placing a kiss to your dad’s cheek as he turned his head towards you and greeted you with a gentle ‘hey honey’ you smile at the aviators as you set the cooler on the sand as you announce your presence to the rest of the group. “I bring gifts” 

You’re meet with a chorus of thanks and greetings, and of course a flirty remark from Hangman who got hit up the side of the head thanks to Phoenix who had planted herself next to the Texan which caused you to let out a laugh as you bent down to open up the cooler and begin handing out the cold beers, and soda for Bob. As you go to hand Rooster one he smiles at you and instead of taking the beer from you, offers his hand out, palm facing up as if asking to take your hand, “Walk with me angel?” 

You nod your head gently and place the bear back in the cooler, placing your freehand in his to allow him to guide you through the lounging aviators that were lying haphazardly across the sand. Though Rooster’s hand was sweaty, you had to admit to yourself that you enjoyed the few seconds in which your hand was clasped in his. It reminded you of simpler times, walking to school hand-in-hand as your mothers walked behind the two of you, playing with his fingers as you lay on his bed as he lamented about the most recent girl whose heart he broke by telling them he wasn’t interested, and even of less simple times where you would hold onto his hand in the hospital waiting rooms as his mom's health began to decline, and him holding yours the day you got the call that your mom had been in a major accident involving a drunk driver and he drove you all the way from Virginia to your home town, holding onto one another at the funerals of both Carole and your mother as if you were the last people you both had in the world, and in a way you were. While Maverick was very much present in your life now as an adult, growing up he was never really around throwing himself into missions and detachments to distract from the pain of losing Goose, you saw him at holidays and birthdays and got a few letters through the year if you were lucky, but you really only had your mom, your aunt Carole, and Bradley until you were an adult. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Rooster’s voice cut through your thoughts and you let out a soft little ‘hmm’ as you came back to reality and looked over to him, ignoring the fact that his hand was still in yours despite it no longer needing to be, “I lost you there for a second angel, where’d you drift of to?” 

You gave him a sad smile and looked out to the ocean as you walked, “Just thinking about how the last time I held your hand was my mom’s funeral.” He let out a soft ‘oh’ and gave your hand a soft squeeze as you turned round to face him once again. “And about how much I’ve missed you B.”

You always knew you missed Bradley, he had been such a constant in your life with your mom and aunt Carole being best friends that bought houses right next to each other and were basically co-parents for the pair of you growing up and by the point you were in high school the two of you were attached at the hip, only really seen without the other when in classes you didn’t share together, hell, you even ended up at the same college as one another when the time came. 

So when you slowly faded out of each other's lives it was like you slowly lost a part of yourself, you always found yourself wanting to turn to Rooster whenever anything important happened. Like when you did your first solo surgery during your internship in Seattle, or when you meet the guy you thought you were gonna marry only for him to turn round and break your heart, though if you were being honest you weren’t as upset about that as you should have been, or even to tell him about the little things in life like the day you went to the pound with a friend and ended up coming home with a little scruff ball of a dog who turned out to be part german shepherd and grew up with the size to prove it. 

Even after 10 years, you still found yourself thinking ‘I should tell Bradley about this’ and then getting disheartened when you realise, you can’t. You had no real way of contacting him, you knew you could reach out to Maverick but that felt like crossing a line, a complete invasion of privacy, and even if you did reach out to Maverick he would only really know roughly where he was but not how to contact him,  and it broke you over and over again. But seeing him, it hit you like a ton of bricks just how much you missed him and with the way your heart twisted with the realisation you made sure to take a mental note to not let Penny know or find out because she would have the smuggest grin and ‘I told you so’ mentality about it, seeing him again truly felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to its rightful place. 

“I’ve missed you too angel.” If you thought you missed Bradley, he missed you just as much if not more and had spent so many sleepless nights searching you up on social media and google to keep up with your life and see how you were doing. When he was at basic, he tried to write letters, something that he could send you to let you know he was still thinking about you but he couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t articulate just how much he missed you without it sounding far too much like ‘I love you’ and that was not something he wanted to tell you in a letter, that was something he needed to say in person, so he sent nothing instead. 

He had saw you at your med-school graduation, smiled you and told you how proud he was of you but he never told you, he apologised for the lack of communication blaming being busy and not having a chance and you did the same, med-school had kicked your ass and meant you just did not have the time to sit down and put thought to paper, or email, to send to him. And then he got deployed and the cycle started again, he would start writing you a letter and then he would trash it because it didn’t like the way it sounded and even the ones he liked never got sent as he lost the nerve and instead stashed them in a box that now lived under his bed, and you started your internship to and communication was run into the ground. 

He was just glad you were a social media person, while he wasn’t and rarely posted on any accounts he had, he got to watch your life unfold through the screen. He watched you enter relationships which made his heart twist in pain as he thought about you being with someone that wasn’t him and then he watched those relationships end which hurt even more because he couldn’t be there to comfort like he had been when you were younger. He watched as you moved from Seattle after your internship being offered a position in one of the best trauma centres in the country where you adopted your scruff ball that had been adequately named ‘shaggy’. He watched as you posted photos of you and your dad, though his own relationship with Maverick was in the gutter, he was happy to see yours healing. Happy that you had someone when he wasn’t there. 

Now that you were back in his life, he felt like that one piece of the puzzle that had been missing since he enlisted had finally been put back into place, though he would never admit it anyone, especially Phoenix after she interrogated him about your relationship after you had left the Hard Deck that first night, he didn’t want her to have the satisfaction of known that he was in fact, in far too deep with you even after 10 years after he spent so long denying that there was anything romantic between the two of you.

Though your admissions hung heavy around you, as if waiting for one of you to reach out and grab it in an admission of blame of whose fault it was you drifted apart, conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you caught each other up on the details and events in your lives for the past 10 years, neither one of you wanting to play the blame game though it was heavy on your heads because you both knew you were equally to blame. 

As you talked and caught up, you were none the wiser to the lingering gazes of the squad of aviators who sat with either a questioning look or a smug smirk on their faces (Phoenix and Hangman specifically) as one of them voiced the question to Maverick, “What’s going on with those two?”

With a shake of his head, Maverick let out a small sigh and moved his eyes away from the form of his daughter and surrogate nephew as they walked hand in hand along the shore line and to the aviators who had now downed their beers and were getting ready for another round of dogfight football without Rooster. Pushing his aviators back up his nose, Maverick laid back in his lounge chair and shrugged his shoulders, “They were attached at the hip once upon a time, they’re just catching up.” 

Though his tone was playful, there was a warning edge to it that warned the others to drop the subject because truthfully even Maverick didn’t know what was going on between the two of you. He knew you were close growing up and you grew apart as adults, something you lamented to him about as you healed your relationship with him after graduating college, but watching you two he could finally see what your mother saw every time you two were together. The undying, unbridled love in each other's eyes that you were too blinded to see, the same kind of love he saw in Carole and Gooses eyes every day. Yeah, Maverick found himself thinking, maybe your mom was right and you were gonna be Mrs.Bradshaw one day. 

---

Its 2 weeks later and you’re finally moved into your new place in San Diego, only 30 minutes away from Fightertown on a good day and 60 on a bad day, a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom (1 ensuite, 1 main), bungalow with an open plan living room and kitchen. It was a nice bungalow, sitting right beside the beach and a small garden out your front, the amount of bed rooms meant one could be converted into an office or home gym while the other can be a storage room, maybe changing into a baby room a few years down the line. And it was all yours, after years of renting, you owned your own home and you couldn't be happier. 

You had been moved in within 5 days with the help of your father and dagger squad who spent most of their evenings helping you move furniture and unpack everything after it had arrived. Though you were pretty sure they were doing it under the orders of your father, it was nice to have them around. The squad were your dad’s family, which meant by extension they were yours now and it was nice to get to know them. You grew especially close with Siren, Phoenix and Halo, the three happy to have another woman around to break up the testosterone, especially one who could handle Hangman’s ego and kept him and Rooster in line when things started to get heated between them. 

Your relationship with Rooster also got better, since that day on the beach where you seemed to walk the entire length of the beach and back as you talked, though you weren’t as close as you were when you were younger, which was physically impossible as he had training and drills every day and you were helping Penny with both wedding planning and in the Hard Deck on busy nights, you were still close. 

You were happy to find all the quirks and mannerisms you had memorised still existed, like the way his lip upturned when he was scheming or the how he fiddled with his dog tags when he was nervous or thinking (when you were young he would always fiddle with his dads), turning the metal over his fingers again and again, or how when he was lying he would scratch behind his right ear and his eyebrow would twitch slightly (honestly, it was such a small reaction that most people didn't notice it) everything about him so familiar and it was welcome because it meant he was still your Bradley even after all this time. 

Which is why when Rooster walked into your bungalow that night, pizza and beer in his hand with a certain look in his eye, you knew immediately that he wanted something. You watched him carefully with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against your kitchen sink and he placed the pizza down on your island. He was avoiding your gaze, another nervous habit when he was scared to ask something, instead looking over your kitchen as if he hadn’t been there every night for the past week. With a gentle sigh you moved forward, uncrossing your arms and putting your hands on the island so you were now leaning on it instead. 

“Spit it out Bradshaw. What do you want?” 

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Rooster almost looks sheepish as he also leans on the island with his forearm against the cold granite and this only makes you raise an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner. 

“You see…” You very rarely saw Bradley struggle to ask for something, especially not from you as there was very little you would say no to him about, now he seemed nervous as if what he was asking would cause you to reach over and slap him across the face. “I, uh, I wanted to call upon our arrangement one last time.” 

Now, whatever you were expecting him to say it was certainly not that and the shock was clear on your face as you quite literally stood up straight with wide eyes and your mouth opening and closing. It had been a while since you thought about your arrangement with Bradley, years even as the last time it came into play was your med-school graduation 10 years ago, before everything fell apart. While the arrangement was something the two of you agreed upon almost 20 years earlier as freshly graduated high schoolers, you still remembered it like it was yesterday. 

---- 

It was just after your high school graduation, your mother had organised a small party with a few of your relatives that lived nearby and a few friends from outside of school but you and Bradley snuck away in his old Bronco he had gotten as soon as he got his licence (it was almost the exact same one as Gooses) and you ended up in what you had dubbed ‘your secret spot’. It was a silly name, but it was where the two of you would always go to escape when the world got a little bit too much, either together or alone. After Bradley parked near the large oak tree that took up most of the clearing, you clambered out of the car and laid down the blanket you had brought with you, popping open the champagne you had snuck off one of the tables at the party. 

Letting out a content sigh, you plopped yourself down on the blanket, your legs spreading out in front of you as you leaned back on your arms with your head thrown back to look at the stars that decorated the night sky. Your eyes traced over the shapes of the constellations, following them until an image formed in your mind of what they were meant to be. You knew them all, and their stories, that was something your mom had taught you. Bradley settled next to you, one leg propped up so he could lean his arm on it, the other pressing against yours alongside his shoulder as he leaned back on his hand, following you in looking up at the stars. 

Bradley never understood your fascination with the stars, you had explained it to him once telling him a story your mom constantly repeated to you about how you would never settle at night unless she took you out to the stars and told you their stories, it seems that even as a baby you found them calming. You told him that even if the world was in chaos and falling apart around you, the stars were always there, they were the one constant in a world where nothing else was and looking at them brought you comfort. But no matter how much you explained it, and how much he said he got it, there was always a part of him that never quite knew what you meant but that never stopped him from listening as you explained the different constellations to him, no matter how many times he had already heard the story. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, passing the bottle of champagne between you quietly, simply revelling in each other's company because you knew things were gonna be different come September time. Sure, you were going to the same college things were going to be different, you were hoping to join a sorority and Bradley was going to try out for the baseball team, you didn’t imagine you would have the same time for each other that you have now given you were never apart for more than an hour or two when you weren’t asleep. Eventually you moved from your sitting positions, instead opting to lie on the blanket, you with your arms on your stomach and Bradley with his arms under his head causing the muscles in his arms to flex and you cursed him for it, finding it hard not to look at him as he did. 

“I have a proposition.” Turning your head to look at Bradley with an amused smirk, you see he’s already looking at you with soft eyes and an even softer smile and you raise your eyebrow at him. Bradley turns on his side, using his arm to prop up his head, and you do the same giving him your full attention. 

“Go on, you’ve piqued my interest.”

He rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in your voice and lightly shoves your shoulder, just enough that you wobble but not enough that you fall over which causes you to giggle. “Come on, I’m being serious.”

Wiping the smile from your mouth, you put on a fake serious face, “Okay, okay, I’m serious.” Bradley only rolls his eyes again but he doesn’t shove you, instead his free hand starts to play with a loose strand of fabric on the blanket, his eyes casting down to avoid meeting yours as he spoke. 

“We make a promise, an agreement, that when we get to college and even after we won’t forget about one another. Like, if one of us has an event or a party, and we’re both single, we go together, if one of us has a ceremony or an award or any sort of celebration we go and support the other.” 

His eyes moved up to meet yours, having been scared you were going to tell him no. Tell him that now you were grown you wanted some independence from him, a chance to see who you were without Bradley Bradshaw attached at your hip. But you don’t, instead you reach out your hand, fingers clenched closed with your pinky extended and a small smile on your face. 

“I promise B” Bradley reaches out and intertwines your pinky fingers together. 

--- 

And that was the start of your agreement with Bradley Bradshaw that saw him as your date to your first sorority event and you as his to the college baseball formal, it’s what saw you at multiple events together throughout college and saw peoples always asking about if you were dating or not, with some of your sorority sisters commenting on the fact that you were lucky to have him. It was what saw him supporting you when you were given an award by the school for academics and you supporting him when he got MVP three years in a row with the baseball team, it was what had you in the crowd of his graduation from the naval academy and him in the crowd of your med-school graduation. But after you started to drift apart, the agreement fell apart with it and it hadn’t been brought up since. Until now that is

“The arrangement?” Bradley let out a small chuckle and stopped rubbing at his neck, instead now leaning on the island with both arms as his eyes swept across the room, determined not to meet your stare he tried to find something, anything he could focus on instead of you because he was sure he would see rejection in your eyes. Finally, his eyes settled on the photos on your fridge, one of you and your friends on your graduation day, one of you and your dad working on the F-14  he had in his bunker, one of you and Shaggy from shortly after you got him, and one of you and him at your senior year prom. 

A small huff passes your lips as you look him up and down, once again crossing your arms over your chest your, “Okay, but I need details first.” Bradley’s eyes snapped from the photos on your fridge to your face as his mouth opened in shock, he was truly expecting you to say no. To tell him to fuck off, that it was a stupid promise made when you were teenagers but here you were agreeing. 

“You’re serious?” Rolling your eyes, you leaned forward onto the island once again, this time folding your arms over one another, matching the way Rooster was standing, and you slid forward slightly so your face was just millimetres away from Rooster and you had to stop your eyes from flickering down to his lips and imagining the way they would feel on yours. Rooster was having a similar issue, finding himself forcing his eyes to look into your eyes because he knew if he looked anywhere else he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

“Of course I’m serious, I did pinky promise after all and we both know those are sacred.” With a small smile you suddenly pull back, all too aware of how the heat of his breath against your skin was starting to cause a blush to spread over your cheeks. Quickly you clear your throat and reach for the pizza on the counter, lifting it as you round the island and head towards your living room. Throwing yourself onto the sofa you place the pizza box on the coffee table and reach down to pet Shaggy who is asleep in his bed at the end of the sofa, motioning to the other side of the sofa with your hand, “Now, details.” 

Lifting the beer, and a bottle opened, Bradley joins you on the sofa and hands you an open beer, while you’re sat with your back against the arm of the sofa and your legs pulled up to your chest, Bradley leans back, stretches one arm around the back cushions of the sofa and spreads his legs in front of him. Taking a deep swig of beer, he lets out a sigh and runs his hand over his face before he starts to explain. 

“An old navy buddy is getting married on Saturday and I was invited to the wedding a while back,” Okay, so far so good, you think to yourself and you let a gentle ‘hmmm’ to let Rooster know you were listening as you took a swig of your own beer, “At the time I was just a guest, but one of his groomsmen has dropped out, well he’s been kicked out but that's another story for another time, so now there’s an uneven number of bridesmaids and groomsmen and the bridesmaids already have their dresses so it would be a complete waste of money to ask one of the bridesmaid to drop out and he doesn’t have any other close friends or family, his brother’s are already part of the grooms party” 

“B you’re rambling.” You very rarely saw Bradley rambling, only when he was really  really nervous like that time he asked Ashley Stone to be his prom date in junior year or when he confessed to his first college girlfriend. 

“Right, sorry. Anyway, he reached out to me and asked if I would be his groomsman, all the other guys are navy men, and I said yes, no problem. The thing is this all went down when I was still seeing that girl, Molly, I was telling you about and I had put down a plus one.” 

Realisation hits you and you nod your head along with what he’s saying, “So you want me to be your plus one.” His eyes, which had been staring up at your ceiling, move to your face and he nods slowly, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you that’s not all it is and you let out a small sigh and narrow your eyes at him. 

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” He nods solemnly and takes another swig of his beer before he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, head turned towards you with an apologetic look on his face. 

“I heard Molly was going to be there with her new man, apparently he’s a friend of the brides, and I may have said I was bringing my new girl.” You close your eyes and curse at his stupidity, taking swig of your beer as you rubbed at your temples. 

“So you want me to be your date and play pretend as your girlfriend?” It wouldn’t be the first time you had pretended to be his girlfriend, you had done it once or twice in college when he was clearly uncomfortable when someone was flirting with him to chase him off, and he had pretended to be your  boyfriend numerous times when some creeps wouldn’t take the hint that you  wasn’t interested in them, but that was short bursts. This was going to be an all day thing, and you didn’t know if your heart could take that. 

“Pretty much.” Bradley knew it was a lot to ask, it even feel outside the parameters of your agreement and he was sure you were going to turn around any second now and tell him to get lost, that you wouldn’t do it. But as you opened your eyes with a resigned sigh and looked at him, he knew you weren’t going to do that. 

“Okay Bradshaw, you got a deal. But…” You were caught off guard by Bradley reaching over and pulling you into a tight embrace, practically putting you onto his lap as he did so as he muttered thank you over and over again into your ear. You hugged him back and let out a gentle chuckle before pulling back, your hands on Bradley’s shoulders as his remained your waist where he had pulled you in. 

Your heart picked up in your chest from the contact and you felt heat rush through your body as a blush spread across your cheeks, you didn’t want to pull away any further than you already were, you actually wanted to pull him closer to you and press your lips against his. In fact every muscle in your body was screaming at you to do just that but you didn’t listen, instead letting go of his shoulder and shuffling back to your position on the sofa. 

“As I was saying, I need to know details of the wedding. Time, theme, colours, bridesmaid colours, dress code, what you’re wearing.” You ran your hand through your hair, starting to panic a little the more you thought about it, which Bradley saw. He reached a hand out and took the one carding through your hair in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it and something about the gentle intimacy of it almost stopped your breathing. 

“Stop panicking. I will text Mercury, uh, Gerard and ask him anything I don’t know and then I’ll text you. He’s asked all the groomsmen to wear their dress whites so it won’t be hard to match me. I don’t know the theme, the dress code for the reception for the women is princess? I don't actually know, and I don’t know about the colour scheme. But I will find out, I promise.” At Rooster’s words you calm a little, taking a few deep breaths to settle your racing heart before you nod. 

“Okay, okay.” He gives you a smile before dropping your hand and reaching over to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza lid and pulling out a slice, handing it to you with a smile, “Now let’s eat before it turns to ice.” 

--- 

Saturday rolls around quicker than you would have liked, you thought you would be over the nerves by now but as the day approached the only seemed to get worse and worse until you felt your chest constricting and your lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves as you struggled to breath. Eyes squeezed tight, your hands gripped onto your island lip with such force that you knew your knuckles were turning white even without looking at them. Your thoughts were spiralling a little, little what ifs that were nothing if not intrusive thoughts like what if Bradley’s doing this to embarrass you? What if he’s doing just to make his ex jealous? What if? What if? What if? They swarmed your mind and you felt like you were beginning to drown. 

Suddenly a hand is placed on your arm, slowly rubbing up and down the skin to soothe you and another is placed on your head slowly moving through your hair and you hear voices but they feel a million miles away, distorted by your heartbeat that was thundering in your ears. Slowly you opened your eyes, to see Natasha and Callie looking at you from either side with concern and you could see their mouths move but still couldn't quite make out the sound coming out. Callie removed her hand from your hair and instead used it to guide one of your own to her chest, where you could feel her taking deep long breaths and you tried your best to match the pattern. In for eight seconds, hold for six, out for eight and repeat. Your heart beat started to calm and you could start to make out what the girls at your side were saying. 

“That’s it (Y/N)....” 

“Nice and easy…”

“You’re okay…” 

The tightness in your chest slowly fades, it still lingers but it doesn’t inhibit your breathing anymore, and the rapid beating of your heart slows to a relatively normal rate. Finally, your hands release their grip on the island and you stretch your fingers open and closed to ease the ache that had settled in them. Your eyes move to Natasha, whose hand is still running up and down your arm and then to Callie who stills holds one of your hands against her chest with a small smile and look of appreciation. 

“Thank you guys.” 

They give you small nods in return, Callie lets go of your hand and instead wraps an arm around your shoulder and brings you into a hug while Natasha threads her fingers through your hand, “No need to thank us,” it was Natasha who spoke, “I’m just glad we arrived when we did.” 

Callie let out a soft ‘yeah’ agreeing with her girlfriend, “That looked pretty bad, you okay?” You had told the girls before about having panic attacks, you were at the Hard Deck one night, just the three of you, and some creep was not leaving you alone and you had a little freak out in the bathroom that they witnessed, but it had been a while since you had a full blown attack like the one you just experienced. You were glad the girls arrived then they did as well, you didn’t know how you were going to calm down from that one on your own and it was a gift to have them there grounding you. 

With a small nod you pull back from Callie, “Yeah, I’m good now. It’s just one bad thought spiralled into another and another and another and I didn’t know how to pull myself out.” Natasha’s hand moved from your arm to rub at your back softly, knowing your body is probably still pumping with adrenaline, to sooth you further, the looks of concern remained but their lips turned up into soft smiles. They knew you were nervous about the whole thing, having lamented to them your nerves and fears when you went out dress shopping only yesterday because Rooster didn’t give you the details you needed to find a dress sooner. 

The theme of the event was fairy tales and what can only be described as royaltycore, with the bride wearing a replica of the live action Cinderella dress and her bridesmaids baby blue and baby pink dresses obviously inspired by the dress worn by princess Aurora in sleeping beauty going by their shape (matching the wedding dress in the live action movie) and colour (an obvious nod to the changing blue and pink in the original animated feature), with a pastel colour scheme, Bradley had told you that guests would have to wear pastels that matched the table you were assigned and those wearing dresses were under orders (straight from the bride herself) to dress like the princess of their childhood dreams (and surprisingly she didn't care if you ended up looking better than her, it seems she just wanted to live out her childhood dream of living a fairy tale for just a few hours) , and the table you and Bradley would be placed at was designated the lavender table so you had to hunt for a lavender dress. 

Having found nothing in San Diego you, Natasha, and Callie all ended up driving over 2 hours to LA in the traffic and heat to try and find something you could wear. You had formal dresses, having attended many a charity gala and medical events but they were all dark navys and emerald greens, you weren’t really one for pastels and you certainly didn't have anything that made you feel like a princess, in fact most of your dresses made you feel like a display, a prize to be given to the highest bidder as you were paraded around to convince donors to up their donations with a flutter of your eyelashes and your tits pressed against their arms as you walked, so you had to go out and shop for something.

 While some of the dresses you found when in San Diego had potential, they were either the wrong shape or the wrong size (and you most definitely did not have time to have anything tailored) so you made the journey to L.A and finally found something in a small shop owned by an independent designer that had been recommended by Siren (who couldn’t join you as she was dragging a very nervous Bob to meet her family in Miami that weekend). You were lucky, it was the last of the dress in stock and it was just your size and, in Callies words, you looked like a knock-out in it. With dress in hand, the three of you made your way back to San Diego and settled in your respective homes just before midnight. 

Natasha removed her hand from your back as she felt your breathing even out completely, the tightness in your chest was now completely gone and your panic had settled though nervousness still brewed in the pit of your stomach, and she turned to Callie with a smile, “Now let’s get you all dolled up.”

That’s right, you forgot you asked them to help you get ready, well you told them you didn’t know what to do with your hair and makeup and didn’t have time to book in with anyone to get it professionally done, to which Natasha let you know that Callie is phenomenal at doing makeup making a joke that if she wasn’t a pilot she would be on a movie set somewhere doing makeup for the stars. Callie blushed at the compliment and let you know she could do yours for you, while also volunteering Natasha to do your hair because she was surprisingly good at it. And that’s why they were at your place at 8am in the morning after getting home so late at night. You were gonna have to buy them a bottle of wine or two to thank them later. 

Natasha guided you into your room, her hand in yours and placed you down in front of your vanity. It was an old thing, the one your mom used to keep in her room though she very rarely used it, but it was nice to have a piece of her. She turned you to the side, so you were facing the door into your ensuite while she positioned herself behind you and Callie positioned herself in front of you, placing her makeup bag on the vanity. You were thankful she brought it, the only makeup you had were the basics to make you look less like a zombie when out in the ED, some foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, and maybe three eyeshadow palettes none of which contained pastel colours. Under their instructions, you closed your eyes and let the girls get to work.

The ceremony was starting at 10, would be finished in 30 minutes and Rooster was coming to pick you up on his way to the reception venue, with the reception not due to start until 12, Rooster would pick up at 10.45, giving him time to get to the venue with the midday San Diego traffic.

Which was great, considering the fact that both Natasha and Callie restarted their entire process at least 3 times each drawing out the time it took for them to actually finish doing your hair and makeup, well that and the breaks you took to eat something and to sneak a drink of champagne that Callie had brought with her deciding you would need a little bit of an edge to calm your nerves before Rooster arrives. Between the stopping and restarting, your hair and makeup was finished by 10:40. 

Though you couldn’t see yourself yet, Callie had covered up the mirror halfway through because you kept trying to peek, the looks on Callie and Natasha’s face were enough to let you know you looked good. “Beautiful. Now get your ass into your dress, I can hear Rooster pulling up.”

Callie left the room, leaving Natasha to help you get into your dress. As yout stripped out of your pyjamas, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of your bed, Natasha turned away towards your bedroom door and started to remove your dress from the protective covering given to you at the boutique yesterday, while you made your way to your underwear drawer and pulled out a lacy thong and a strapless bra in a matching colour out and put them on. You then turned to Natasha who had removed the dress from the hanger and was holding it folded over her arm, you let out a gentle ‘okay’ to let her know it was okay for her to turn around. 

While Natasha helped you into your dress, Callie let Rooster into your home with a smile and a bit of a questioning look as she noticed he was driving a black Bentley and not his usual bronco, “You give up the bronco?” Rooster rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold of your home with a small smile on his face. 

“Gerard insisted all the groomsmen arrive in Bentley’s, he did wanna give me a driver but I insisted on driving to get (Y/N) myself.” Callie nodded her head as they walked into the open plan living room and kitchen, leaning against the island as she eyed up Rooster. Even she had to admit that he looked good in his dress whites. 

“You clean up well Bradshaw.” 

Roosters rolled his eyes at Callie, but his lips upturned slightly at the compliment, it fed his ego a little bit, though he only really cared about what you thought he looked like. Rooster’s eyes once again found the photo of the two of you at prom and a small smile spread across his face as he remembered just how beautiful you looked that night and how that was the first time he realised that he may have had not so friendly feelings towards you. He remembered his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he waited for your mom to go and get you from your room, how his hands felt clammy and his head began to spin as he saw you in your dress for the first time. This was no different, his heart was hammering in his chest as if it was trying to break through his ribs and throw itself directly into your hands, and his hands felt damp to his touch as he clasped them together in front of him to stop him fidgeting. 

Callies eyes softened as she watched one of her best friends and she smiled, it was obvious from the very first day that you were Roosters girl to the point that even Hangman was leaving you alone not wanting to incur the wrath of a love sick Rooster, but now watching him Callie could see it was so much more than just an infatuation but was pure, deep love, one not everybody got to experience and those who did were lucky too. “She’s beautiful Bradley.” 

Rooster’s eyes snapped to Callies and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he knew you were beautiful. You were always beautiful, even when you thought you looked your worst Bradley always thought you were the most ethereal being on the planet. The sound of a door opening and closing caused Bradley to look down the corridor he knew lead to your bedroom, but instead of you walking down there was Natasha with a smile on her face. 

“She’s just getting her shoes on.” Bradley nodded his head as Natasha joined Callie leaning on the island, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before she turned her eyes back to Bradley. She narrowed them slightly and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him up and down. 

“This is your one shot Bradshaw, fuck this up and I will run you over with my car.” Bradley wanted to ask what she was talking about, argue that there was nothing to fuck up, you were just friends, and you were only doing this as a favour to him, but the sound of your heels coming down the hall stopped him and he turned to look at you. 

Callie wasn’t wrong, you were beautiful but you were so much more than that. You looked like an absolute goddess, your makeup made all your features pop, especially your eyes and

your hair was styled to perfection with little decorative butterflies poking out here and there to match your dress. Your dress. God, you truly looked like a fairy princess. A gorgeous lilac, floor-length gown, with butterflies decorating the skirt and collar line with pink highlights, including a pink belt around your waist. 

The world around Rooster faded away as he looked at you, it was like he had tunnel vision and everything else faded to darkness, and his heart beat so rapidly and loudly in his chest he could hear it and felt like he was underwater. Eyes moving over your form, not every discreetly, a flush rose on his cheeks and he felt his throat dry up and constrict as he tried to vocalise anything to let you know what he was thinking.

The intensity of his stare at you blushing profusely, eyes moving away from him as you ran your hand over the skirt of your dress to distract yourself from his gaze, which you could physically feel on you as if it was peeling back the layers of your skin and muscle and staring directly at your heart, which was beating so rapidly against your ribcage. You were so distracted by not looking at Bradley, you can’t see the sly smiles shared by Natasha and Callie, or the way they were eyeing the two of you just waiting for one of you to make a move. 

Taking a gulp, making his adams apple bob in his throat, Rooster clears his throat finally moving his eyes away from your form, though the blush he sports is still rapidly spreading across his face, “You look good angel.”

Mentally Rooster curses himself, was that seriously the best he could come up with? That you looked good? Did you really short-circuit his brain that badly that he couldn’t even compliment you properly? Natasha groans internally, throwing her head back in exasperation as she lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes. She knew Rooster was an idiot but this was beyond idiocy. You didn’t mind though, you gave Rooster a smile as you finally looked at him again. 

“You look good too B.” 

A smile spread across Rooster’s face as he reached out a hand for you to take, which you do with a small smile, “Your carriage awaits princess.” You roll your eyes at his extravagance, taking your clutch from Callie as Rooster escorts you to the car, which you give him a questioning look about and you laugh as he explains that he was forced too, but if he had a choice he would be driving you to the ball in his bronco. 

Natasha and Callie watch with smiles as you laugh with one another before driving off and as you do the couple turn to one another and sigh, “They are absolutely hopeless.” Callie nods along to her girlfriend's words and clicks her tongue, “Completely hopeless.” 

---

The drive to the venue doesn’t take as long as you thought it would, the traffic isn’t as bad as anticipated with most people taking advantage of the beautiful morning and heading to the beach before temperatures reach their peak between mid-day and three pm. It’s a peaceful drive, mostly. 

You of course tease Bradley about his moustache and how you’re surprised Gerard didn’t make him shave the ridiculous thing off to be in the wedding party and he rolled his eyes and chuckled, letting a little “you know you love my moustache” slip past his lips. And, surprisingly, you do love his moustache, though you would never let him know that it would simply inflate his ego to the point it would match Hangmans, and you did not need a cocky Bradley in your life.

But after you actually set off, conversation dies off with the only sound being the music playing gently from the speakers. You realise, half-way through the drive, that it’s a playlist of all your favourite songs from childhood and you smile at the thought that Bradley remembered and made a playlist specifically for you, you supposed it was to try and calm the nerve raging inside of you the closer you got to the venue. 

For most of the ride, you’re sitting staring out the window with your elbow propped on the window and your head propped on a fist, just watching the world whizz by, occasionally moving your eyes to take in Bradley in his dress whites. Bradley is a handsome man, he knows he’s a handsome man and often uses that to his advantage, but in his dress whites? His dress whites take it to a whole other level and you swear he looks like Prince Charming coming to sweep Cinderella off her feet. 

You take your time to admire him, from his nearly combed and styled hair that doesn’t have a hair out of place and it certainly being held in place by a mountain of products curving down along his chiselled jawline to his plump lips that had a light sheen to him, probably just a lip balm, but they looked so kissable as you stared at them for a little bit longer than you should have, being so lost in thought that you bite down on your own lips that were painted a light pink. 

You finally move on from staring at Bradleys lips back across his jawline and down his neck, moving across his arms that looked absolutely amazing in the white overcoat until you reached his hands, which were gripping onto the steering wheel with such an intensity that his knuckles were starting to change colour and the veins in his hands bulged, causing heat to spread through your body as you thought about his hands on your body, wrapped around your throat, holding your waist, dipping lower and lower to where you wanted him the most. But before your mind wanders too far, you strip your gaze away from him and look back out the window to try and calm your now rapidly beating heart and quell the embers of burning desire. 

Your gaze isn’t unnoticed by Rooster, oh no, he doesn’t even have to look over to know your staring at him, he can feel your emerald eyes burning into his skin as it moved over his form and as he looks over and sees you biting down on your lip, he has to suppress a groan because you looked so damn good and he didn’t know how long he could control himself if you kept looking at him like that, which is why he was gripping onto the steering wheel with such force to try and ground himself and focus on anything other than your pretty pink lips and how they would feel on his own, how they would feel pressed against the skin of his neck, his chest, his abdomen, his. 

Suddenly, Rooster is shaken out of his thoughts as the venue comes into sight and he is directed by a concierge to park alongside the other groomsmens bentley’s and he quickly clears his throat before following the directions and pulling in. As he pulls the keys of the car out of the ignition, he turns to you with a smile tugging at his lips, eyes roaming over your body once again, “You ready?” 

You take a few deep breaths, in for eight, hold for six, out for eight and repeat, close your eyes and steady your heart before turning to Bradley with a tight lipped smile and a gentle nod of your head, “Yeah, let’s do this.” 

You go to open your door, but Bradley quickly slaps your hand away and you turn to him with a shocked expression. Bradley only gives you a goofy grin before he gets out of his own door, shutting it behind him, before he makes his way over to your door smiling at the other groomsmen who were gathered only a short distance away. Straightening out the collar of his jacket quickly, Bradley open’s your door for you and offers you his hand, which you roll your eyes at but gladly take, allowing him to help you out of the car.

You hear a couple of whistles as Bradley’s hands fall to your waist as you allow him to steady you, pulling you close to his chest in the process. You could hear a few voices calling out from behind you, all some variation of ‘go Bradshaw’ or ‘way to go Rooster’, which causes a blush to rise on your cheeks which actually mirrored the one on Bradley’s as he tried to let you go. You stopped him, moving your arms around his neck and pulling him down to put a kiss on his cheek. Afterall, you were supposed to be his girlfriend and with people watching, you were going to put on a show.

The blush you had seen on Bradley’s face was nothing compared to the one heating up his skin now, he looked like a tomato and he had to hide his face in your neck to avoid being seen by the other groomsmen who were whooping and hollering at the display of affection. You rolled your eyes at the antics but welcomed the display of affection from Rooster, especially as he snaked his arms fully around your waist and rubbed up and down your back. It was something you frequently did when you were both younger, a way for the both of you to ground one another when it was needed, and it was very much needed now as anxiety started to take root in your heart. 

A strong smack on Rooster’s shoulder prompts him to pull away from you, “Rooster man, you gonna introduce us to your girl here or are you just gonna love up on her all night?”

The small group of groomsmen (a total of 3 excluding the groom) had made their way over to you and were now leaning either against the bentley you arrived in or the one beside it with cocky smiles on their faces and their arms crossed. You had to assume the one who smacked Rooster was the groom, Gerard. 

“Uh, yeah. Gerard, this is my girl (Y/N).” Though he had pulled away from you, Bradley manoeuvred so he was now at your side with his hand around your waist. “(Y/N), this is Gerard, and the rest of the groomsmen are Sam, James, and Steve.” He motioned to each one as he introduced them and you met them all with a smile.  

James was the first of the group to speak to you directly, his eyes trailed up and down your body appreciatively and even though you know he means no harm by it you can’t help but cringe slightly at the way his eyes rake over you, there was just something wrong with the way he did it, “Damn Bradshaw. When you said your girl was a knockout you really meant it.” Finishing off his sentence with a wink in your direction, he moves back to look at Rooster who holds you just that little bit closer. 

“Yeah, I’m damn lucky to have her.” 

You look up to Bradley with a smile, only to find him already looking at you with a softness you’re not used to. One that speaks to the way lovers look at one another in the privacy of their own homes, one that you had seen before in how your friend Graham looked at his husband and how Maverick looked at Penny. Not wanting to overthink, truly not wanting to think about it all, you turn back to the group of groomsmen and clear your throat. 

“Are you all aviators?”

Steve is next to speak, “Gerard and Sam are, me and James are marines” You give a small hmm in acknowledgement before he continues on, “What about you? You in the navy?”

You shake your head with a small laugh, “No, I think my dad would have actually murdered me if I even considered joining the navy. Um, my dads a pilot, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” All the men exchange wide eyed shocked looks and Sam lets out a whistle. 

“Wow, Rooster, the Captains daughter? And not just any Captain at that, Maverick? I’m surprised he hasn’t skinned you alive.” 

You roll your eyes a little at that, sure your dad was overprotective and had threatened a few of your ex boyfriends, the one person he would never threaten is Bradley, and you both knew that. “There are two people in the world my father is scared of, one was my mother when she was alive. She was small but she was mighty and quite the temper. The other is me, unfortunately for him I inherited my mothers temper and his attitude.” 

The boys around you let out a small chuckle, imagining you going in on Maverick, which you had done multiple times when he took on a dangerous mission and told you nothing about it (not even his flight details or that fact that he was flying, you really ripped into him after the uranium mission). The conversation looked like it was going to continue, until a small frazzled red head with a clipboard approached the group, the wedding planner you guessed. 

“Boys!! You are needed for photographs before the reception begins!!” You stifled a giggle as you saw them all roll their eyes at her and cast your eyes to the ground, knowing if you meet any of the groomsmens eyes you would burst out laughing. The wedding planner let out a huff as she looked at her watch and then stormed off in the direction of what you assumed was the entrance. 

“That’s our cue then.” James is the first to move off, throwing you a quick wink as he stood up straight and started heading towards the entrance alongside Steve and Sam. Gerard stayed with you and Bradley as you started moving towards the entrance yourselves, Bradley’s hand still wrapped firmly around your waist. As you walk the few metres to the entrance, Bradley and Gerard joke amongst themselves and all you can do is smile. Bradley was well and truly relaxed, you could feel it as he held you. There was no tension in his muscles, they way there usually was even if you were just hanging at the Hard Deck or at your place or at the hanger, even the micro muscles in his face seemed relaxed. 

Stopping at the entrance, Gerard motions into a girl in a beautiful light purple dress with constellations stitched into the skirt and a small silver tiara in her hair, who was standing by a table of champagne, talking to an older woman in a beautiful regency style dress that looked like it had been picked out of Bridgerton , “That’s Sarah, she’s my cousin and Sam’s girl. Let her know your Rooster’s girl and she’ll show you to your table, she’s sitting with you. That’s her mother with her, my aunt Millie, be careful she’ll talk your ear off if you let her,” the last bit is spoken in a whisper as Gerard bends down to your ear, causing you to smile. 

You nod your head and go to move in her direction, but Bradley grabs your hand and pulls you back into him, lifting your hand up and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. It was something he had done before, the night you had agreed to this whole charade, and again it took your breath away as the simple intimacy of it made your head feel light. 

“I’ll be in soon, okay?” You give him a gentle nod and a soft ‘yeah’ falls past your lips, which is enough for him to let you go. You give him a smile as you turn towards the entrance, eyes following him from your peripheral as he moves towards where the photos are being taken until he is out of your view and you look at Sarah, who has turned to look at you having heard you coming. 

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sarah.” She offers a hand out to you, which you take, and you instantly relax as you take in her gentle and welcoming smile and how something about her just eases peace, maybe it’s the constellations on her dress calming you or maybe she oozes the same energy that you found in them. 

“Hi,” You don’t expect your voice to sound as small as it does and you quickly clear your throat before you continue, “I’m (Y/N), I’m uh…” 

A look of excitement crosses across her features as she clasps her hands together and lets out a small squeal, “You’re Roosters girl? The doctor?” You nod your head slowly, shock settling in as to how she knew who you were, which you apparently weren’t good at hiding, as she links arms with you and smiles widely. 

“At the rehearsal dinner the other day he could not stop talking about you! Honestly, I wish Sam talked about me as passionately as Rooster spoke about you. And, honey, the way his eyes lit up anytime someone asked about you, it’s adorable.” 

Relief washes over you, Rooster had already spoken about you. He had planted the seeds that this relationship was legit in the minds of all the people here already, that made things easier. Now you just had to act like you were desperately in love with him, which was easy considering that you were no matter how much you refused to admit it to yourself. 

Aunt Millie now turned to you with a smile and a glass of champagne, “Hello dear, I’m Mildred but you may call me Millie.” 

You gently take the glass from her with a smile, “Hello Millie, my name’s (Y/N).” Her gentle smile and warm eyes remind you of your grandmother, and of the countless old ladies who made their way into an er throughout the year as a means to battle their loneliness, Gerard had said she would talk you ear off and you would have gladly let her if it meant she was a little less lonely for the night. 

“Well my dear’s, almost all the guests are seated, shall we join them?” Sarah smiles at her mother and links her other arm through hers, keeping one linked with you, as you walk into the main reception area. Your mouth gaped open as you looked around, it was absolutely stunning. Vine wrapped stone pillars decorated with tiny lights that you were sure would look like twinkling stars once the night had hit, beautifully arranged circular tables curved in a crescent shape with a two person table at the centre reserved for the bride and groom that was decorated with beautiful white gardenias and wild flowers on top of a soft pink table cloth that resembled the colour of rose quartz,, with a lavender table either side (one for the groomsmen and their plus ones and one for the bridesmaids and their plus ones), which was followed by sky blue, then a gentle green colour, then a soft yellow, and then it repeated in reverse order (yellow,green, then blue, then lavender). 

Each table had a flower centrepiece matching the colour of the table cloth, some sprigs of lavender on the lavender tables, blue daisies at the blue tables, limelight hydrangeas at the green tables, and coreopsis at the yellow tables. In the centre of the tables was the dance floor, edges decorated with bushes, all filled with blooming flowers of varying colours (you would have to assume most of them were artificial or else the smell would be completely overpowering), and hanging above it was a gorgeous chandelier that had been threaded with the same wildflowers as the bride and grooms table. 

Behind the bride and groom's table, towards the back sat a photobooth very similar to the one found at proms and homecoming dances with a box of props at the side, that included toy swords, tiaras, and feather boas.  At the very back of the room, hidden behind the floral background of the photobooth, was a pair of white arched doors that you assumed lead to the beach, if you listened close enough you could hear the waves crashing against the shore. It was like walking into a fairy tale. 

Sarah gently guided her mother to her table and seat, it was at the blue table next to yours and she was seated with the mother and father of the groom, as well as some admirals from the navy who usually regarded you with a slight of disdain having meet you at naval event alongside your father, but now meet you with apprehensive smiles and a tilt of their glass in acknowledgment. You gave Millie a gentle goodbye and a promise that you would join her for a conversation at another time during the night. 

Sarah then guided you to your own seat, the lavender table at the right hand side of the two person table, the groom's side you were assuming, and to your seat, though you probably could have figured that out yourself as placed at it was a placard with gentle swishing writing spelling your name. Thankfully, you were sat right next to Sarah and Rooster would be sitting on your right. 

At the table were two other women already and Sarah introduced you to them as Peggy and Natasha, Steve’s fiance and James girlfriend. They’re both lovely women and conversation between the four of you flows quite easily, you discuss your respective careers, learning that Peggy actually works as a nurse in the paediatric unit of your new hospital, and Natasha teaches self defence, and Sarah is a pre-K teacher. 

Throughout your conversation you feel eyes burning into you, though not in an unsettling way, more so a questioning way as if to determine if you were who you actually were and as you move your eyes away from the group of girls around you, you find a pretty blonde staring at you from the far lavender table on the bride’s side with a little bit of sadness in her eyes. She sits next to a tall man with dark curls and a soft lilac suit that perfectly matches her dress. She’s stunning and you quirk your head to the side, curious as to why she’s staring at you but, realisting she’s been caught, she quickly looks away from you. 

You didn’t realise that everyone (minus the wedding party) were seated until the sound of the wedding march started to play from the speakers within the room and the door opens with the maid of honour and Sam making their way in first, followed by the next bridesmaid and Steve, and then the next bridesmaid and Bradley (who gives you a wink) as he enters, and then the next bridesmaid and James. All four of them make their way across the dance floor and to the couple’s table, where they separate to their respective sides with wide smiles. 

“Introducing the newly wed Mr and Mrs Alcove!” Sam's loud tenor voice booms across the room, even without a mic, and in comes the happy couple wrapped up in each other’s arms. You had to admit you thought the bride was going to look ridiculous when Bradley had told you she was wearing a replica of the Cinderella dress, thinking she was going to be wearing the large iconic blue dress, but she looked absolutely stunning in the much simpler replica of the wedding dress from the live action movie. The dress was a beautiful creamy colour with a long, flowing skirt decorated with flowers, and atop the bride's head sat a gorgeous crown. She well and truly looked like a princess. 

You smile and clap with the rest of the guests, some of them whooping and hollering as the couple make their way to the table. The couple share a passionate kiss in front of the table, arms wrapping around one another as if they needed the other to breathe, before sitting down and motioning for their wedding party to do the same. The party splits to either side of the table and takes their seat and as Bradley sits beside you, you reach over and place your hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently as you turn to him with a smile that he gladly returns. 

--- 

The meal begins and conversation surges amongst the table, though it’s hushed it brings a buzz to the air and electrifies it. You're enjoying the conversation amongst your own table, Sam was telling a story about how Bradley literally tripped and broke his nose trying to impress someone while they were on deployment with each other. You, of course, laugh along to the story while Bradley leans back in his chair with a bit of a huff. 

Once again you can feel the same eyes as earlier on you and as you look up, you’re once again met by the same blonde staring at you but this time she doesn’t look away until Bradley catches her eye. You can feel him straighten beside you as he leans forward, one arm wrapping around the back of your chair as he whispers in your ear, “That’s Molly.” And with that, the staring makes sense, though you’re still unsure how she knew it was you. With Sarah, you had introduced yourself but you hadn’t so much as said a word to the other girl. 

Bradley leans back in his chair again, but keeps his arm wrapped around the back of your chair, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on your bare shoulder as you lean back into the chair. 

---

After dinner and speeches, and first dances, Bradley joined the rest of the groomsmen to smoke a cigar out the front of the venue, joined by the wedding photographer who wanted to get a few more candid shots of the boys (you assumed she was still going to pose them, but in a more natural manner), leaving you at the table by yourself as Sarah had disappeared to talk to some of her relatives a few tables down and Peggy and Natasha (she insisted on you calling her Nat, but you just couldn’t having stored that nickname away for Phoenix) joined the bridal at the bridesmaids table for a conversation. Your eyes had met with Millies over the crowd, and you had every intention of going over to join the woman and converse with her, but a body landing in Sarah’s seat next to you stops you. 

You turn to look who it was, not knowing anybody but those sat at your table, and find Molly sitting next to you. She looks nervous, chewing on her lips and fiddling with the golden chain wrapped around her left wrist, as she looks around for someone. She looks for a good few seconds, making sure whoever she was looking for was not going to suddenly pop up out of nowhere and usher her away, before her eyes settled on you. 

When they do, you expect to see rage, jealousy, hate. Instead, they’re soft and kind and hold a hint of sadness in them that you recognise immediately, it's a look you’ve worn yourself. One of mourning a love lost, of grieving over a relationship you would never have, and you realise she’s mourning her relationship with Bradley. 

Molly clears her throat slightly and she releases her lips from her teeth as she speaks, “I’m…uh, I’m Molly but you probably already know that.” Her eyes shuffle away from your face in nervousness, settling instead on the sprigs of lavender in the centre of your table, “And you’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod at her question, afraid to open your mouth but still wanting to acknowledge what she was saying, and she gives a small smile. “I thought so. When we were together Rooster would talk about you, tell me stories about the two of you, you look just like he described you.” You flush slightly, heat engulfing your cheeks, you didn’t know Rooster talked about you to Molly, didn’t know he spoke to anyone about you. “You really are as beautiful as he said.” 

Molly’s eyes moved away from the lavender, landing on you and she tilted her head to the side with a small sigh. You know she isn’t here to be malicious, especially as she moves to take your hand in hers gently, “I shouldn’t be talking to you. The ex talking to the new girl? People will probably think I’m threatening you” You both let out a small chuckle at that, and you must admit she had a beautiful smile. 

“That’s not what I’m here to do, promise.” She looks around her once again, this time you’re able to gather that she’s looking for Rooster, “I just wanted to let you know how in love Rooster is with you.” You’re shocked, and she gives a small giggle at your face as your mouth opens slightly.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, I am truly happy for Rooster that he finally managed to get you to agree to date him and , but I…I thought Rooster loved me, and maybe some part of him did, but after reading the letters I knew he would never love me like he loved you…” She looks back down to the bracelet on her arm and moves her hand away from yours to play with it again, “And seeing you two together? Seeing how he looks at you like you placed each individual star in the sky, as if you were born from stardust and the cosmos itself? God….” 

Your brain finally catches up to you, and you reach an arm out to touch Mollys arm, “Wait. What letters?” Molly matches your confused look with one of her own, raising an eyebrow as she looks at you, “You haven’t seen the letters? He has a whole box of them, all addressed to you starting from when he was in basic and the most recent was one from his mission before he got called back to Top Gun.”

Your head suddenly feels too full, a million questions running through your head. He wrote you letters? All this time? Why didn’t he ever send them? What about them made Molly realise he was in love with you? Where were they now? Why did he keep them? Alongside your racing thoughts, your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest as the same tightness from this morning returned and you struggled to breath. Suddenly the sound of the party felt like it was a million miles away and it was distorted as if you were underwater, the pounding sound of your heart all you could hear, as your head started to feel dizzy and the room started to ring. 

You could vaguely feel Molly reach out to you, a look of concern on her face, and she was speaking to you but you couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. It seemed she called someone because in a second Sarah was at her side, a hand on your arm, she was also talking but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. You tried to relax your breathing, eight in, hold for six, eight out, a few times but it wasn’t working. As you panicked, your eyes moved from Molly and Sarah looking around the room for a way out and finally your eyes caught the edge of the arched doors leading to outside world, and you stand suddenly, knocking Sarah back slightly and mumble out, “I need…I need air,” as best you could given your inability to breath properly.  

You rush away from the table and push through the large oak doors, letting them slam behind you, though you were sure no one was able to hear over the pounding bass of the music playing. It was dark out, night having fallen about an hour earlier, with the only light coming from the small porch you were standing on. Your eyes scan around you, the beach spreads out before you with the ocean only a short bit away and in a sudden decision you strip yourself of your shoes, leaving them on the porch, and stalk towards the water, not caring and not really in a rational mind to care about your dress. 

You step into the water, walking until your ankles are fully covered and the skirt of your dress floats around you. The cold is a shock to your system and though the freezing cold would stop your panic attack you’re in too deep now for it to work, so instead you look to the sky. Lucky for you it’s a clear night and you can see some of the twinkling stars in the sky. 

The stars, the one constant in a world of chaos and if your body was anything right now it was pure chaos. Your thoughts still hadn’t subsided and your heart was still thundering, the tightness in your chest remained the same and it felt like every breath you took was like breathing in shards of glass. You focused on the stars, tracing the familiar patterns of the constellations and picturing them in your head as you go. Slowly your heartbeat starts to slow and then your breathing even outs, your thoughts are cleared as you go over the names and summaries of each constellation you find. 

Suddenly strong arms are wrapping around your waist and the scent of Bradley’s cologne fills your nostrils as he pulls you against his chest, saying nothing, just letting you ground yourself and come back down to earth.  

The silence lingers for a few moments as you gather yourself, “How’d you know I was out here?” 

Bradley chuckles slightly, arms tightening around your waist, “Sarah came out and got me, said you looked like you were having a panic attack and you ran off. Knew you would be somewhere looking at the stars.” You hum lightly in response, leaning your head back against his chest. It’s peaceful for a few seconds before you remember why you had your panic attack. Suddenly you’re pulling forward and turning towards Bradley with your arms crossed. 

“Tell me about the letters Bradley” 

Rooster curses to himself and avoids looking into your eyes, he knew he should have never left you alone. Should have known that Molly would seek you out, say something that gave away his secret. He brings his hands in front of him, wringing them together over and over again nervously. 

“I-I…” Rooster was struggling to find something to say, wanting nothing more than for a huge wave to come and knock into the two of you so he could disappear. Your gaze was piercing, eyes narrowing slightly as he took too long to reply. 

“I… I wrote them and then I meant to send them, I promise” Roosters hand carded through his hair, the effects of the products fading as he messed it up by doing so. Still he refuses to look at you, and you huff at it a little. 

“Why didn’t you?” You uncross your arms, instead bringing your arms down and playing with your fingers in nervousness. 

“Because…” Now Bradley looks in your eyes and he looks nervous, he couldn’t believe himself. Bradley flew F-18’s for a living, went into dangerous situations every day but this was the most scared he had ever been in his life. “No matter what I wrote, even if it was just about my day, about training, no matter the words, the only thing I wanted to write was I love you. I wanted to write it over and over and over again until my hands bled and that is not the confession you deserve.” 

You let out a laugh, tears gathering in your eyes, “And this is?” You didn’t want to cry, didn’t mean to, but you were so overwhelmed with emotions that it was the only outlet you had. You still had residual adrenaline in your veins from your panic earlier and you were happy, oh so happy, that Bradley was in love with you, with his confession it was like every nerve in your body lit up at once and the only way you could express it was tears. 

Bradley curses under his breath again, reaching a hand out to wipe the tears forming on your lash lines, “God no it’s not. This is not how I wanted to do this.” You let out another huff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him. 

“Were you ever gonna do it or were you gonna let me go throughout the rest of my life thinking you didn’t love me back?” 

Bradley, who had dropped his hand and turned his eyes away with your huff, snaps his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t expecting that, not in 100 years did he expect you to be in love with him as well. 

“You really didn’t know?” He shakes his head, hands now reaching out to grab at yours as you step closer to him. You looked so pretty as you looked up at him through your lashes with a smile on your lips. You reached up to him, cupping his jaw gently in your hand and rubbing your thumb gently across the apple of his cheek. 

“God Bradley. You wanna know why all my other relationships failed Bradley? Because I compare them all to you. No one was ever you. I have been in love with you since we were 16 and no other man or woman has ever compared to you.” 

Bradley gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as he does, and he watches your eyes looking for any hint of dishonesty. Any glimmer that you were having him on. But there's nothing but love in your eyes, and suddenly he sees what everyone else saw. Pure, unbridled love. 

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is soft as his hands move to hold you at your waist and you answer by pulling him down and pressing your lips against his. The kiss is sweet and gentle, your lips moulding together perfectly, but still filled with passion as he pulls you closer to his body. It wasn’t like the books described, no fireworks, no sparks, but rather a feeling of peace. One of home, as if your souls had been reaching out to each other your whole lives and were now touching. And though the kiss is sweet and soft and innocent, you can’t help the feeling of heat pooling in your abdomen as you thought of where this could be heading next. 

You pull back from one another, but still stay close as he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. You stand like that, simply holding each other for a few moments, until a chill settles in you and you start to shiver a little. 

Bradley gives you a small smirk, “Why don’t we head home and get warmed up? Huh?” You smile as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making an obvious innuendo that you were all too happy to carry out, and nod and, reluctantly, untangle yourself from Bradley, making your way to the shoreline where you notice he’s abandoned his dress shoes. You suddenly turn to him with wide eyes and a hand over your mouth. 

“Bradley! You’re dress whites!” He simply shakes his head with a smile, taking your hand in his as he puts his shoes back on, “Don’t worry about it angel. I’ll get them dry cleaned.” He places a kiss on your forehead to calm your nerves before you make your way back to the venue.  

You disappear back into the room, your heels now in your hand, and make your way over to the table where Sarah is now sat with Natasha, Peggy, and Molly, who are all looking at you with slight concern. You simply smile and lift your purse, “I’m fine, promise. But we’re,uh, we’re gonna head home” The girls smile and give you hugs as you go, with Peggy promising to stay in touch and Natasha gives you a ‘be safe’ with a wink. 

As you said goodbye to them, Bradley ordered the two of you an uber, having had a few beers and you having had a few champagnes and wine, and said goodbye to the groomsmen who are all giving him knowing looks, especially as you approach behind Bradley and place your hand on his upper forearm and rub it gently as you give your own goodbyes to the boys. 

The uber is quick in arriving and you and Bradley climb into the back seat, anxious to get back to your place (which is closer than Bradley’s who lives in Fightertown). In the back of the car, your hand finds Bradley’s thigh and you start to rub gently on it, biting down on your lip as you do. You feel Bradley tense at the touch, his eyes shifting to watch you and figure out what you’re doing and he swears to god that the you were trying to kill him with the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him like you wanted to jump his bones right here in the back of the uber. 

As your hand ghosts closer and closer to his hardening cock, Bradley has to suppress a groan, instead pretending to cough as he glares at you. You were playing a very dangerous game. He grabs at your hand as it ghosts across his cock, loose enough that you can pull away if you want but tight enough that it sends a warning. You only smile at him, cocking an eyebrow, “Everything okay, lieutenant?” 

The sound of his rank rolling off your tongue has Bradley biting back a moan as he throws his head back against the headrest, you were definitely going to be the death of him, and by the looks of it you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Instead of releasing your hand, he threads his fingers through it to stop your hand from wandering and you pout a little in your seat. 

The drive to your place was far too long for Bradley, seemingly dragging on forever despite the almost empty roads, but that might have been the frustration bubbling inside of him that only seemed to grow every time he met your lust-blown eyes. When you finally stop at your place, he rushes out a thanks as he all but tumbles out of the car, causing you to giggle, and makes his way to your side, opening your door for you with a goofy grin on his face. 

You mutter out a thanks to the driver before taking Bradleys outreached hand and climbing out yourself, you’re barely out of the car before the driver speeds off leaving you and Bradley at the bottom of the path leading to your place. Bradley can’t help himself as he cups your face in his hands and presses a deep kiss to your lips, which you gladly reciprocate, moving your lips in sync as you grab at the collar of his jacket. 

You don’t wanna end the kiss, so instead you twist a little and start walking back on the path and Bradley’s hands move from your face to your waist to hold you steady and help prevent you from falling. Your back hits against the front door and you finally pull away from Bradley with laboured breaths, “I… I need to…” 

All words vanish from your mind as Bradley starts to kiss down your neck, squeezing gently where his hands meet your hips, stopping at a particular spot that has you whining in pleasure to pay extra attention to it, you could already imagine the bruise that would be there come the morning. At your little sounds, Bradley smirks against your skin and kisses back up your neck making his way to your lips once again, where he places a gentle peck. 

“What was that angel?” You roll your eyes at him playfully, turning your back to him with a smile as you start to rummage through your bag for your keys, which would be a thousand times easier if Bradley didn’t preoccupy himself with running his hands over your clothed body and placing kisses against your neck and shoulders, giving you a matching hickey on the other side. Finally, and with a fumbling hand, you find your keys and quickly unlock your door before turning to Bradley and pulling him in by his collar, dropping your purse by the door and pushing it closed with your foot. 

Bradley hums appreciatively into your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist once again and pushing you against the door once again. You stay there, kissing each other slowly and passionately, as if you had all the in the world to enjoy each other. Eventually Bradley pulls away from you, laboured breaths fanning against your face as yours fanned against his and you want nothing more than to pull him forward into another kiss but you also know if you continued this here you wouldn’t make it to the bedroom. 

You placed a hand on his chest, your blown out eyes looking into his, “I want this off lieutenant.” This time Bradley let’s himself moan at how his rank rolls of your tongue and pulls away from you enough to let himself the room to unbutton his jacket, and for you to bend down and take your shoes (which you put back on waiting for the uber, not wanting to carry them) off, throwing them down beside your purse. 

After all the buttons are undone, your hands are spreading across the expanse of Bradley’s chest that was still covered by his hunder shirt until you are moving the jacket down his shoulders and off his body completely. His lips press to yours once again and you run your hand up his chest, and around his neck to play with the little hairs at the base of his neck. With this kiss, Bradley pushes his tongue into your waiting mouth and plays with your own causing a small moan to resonate from your throat. 

While your hands are preoccupied, Bradleys are smoothing over your hips and running up the expanse of your rib cage to reach behind you and undo the zip on your dress, which he does quite fluidly and the bodice falls gently from your chest onto Bradleys. You pull away from him again, finger pressing against his white undershirt, “This too.” 

Bradley only smirks and gladly removes the offending item of clothing, allowing you to take a step back so that your dress would fall from your frame completely and pool at the ground which leaves you in nothing but the matching set of underwear you put on earlier. Bradley groans at the sight, his hands reaching out to paw at the skin now exposed to him. He grips at your hips tightly, fingers digging into the skin as he does, pulling you close to his body. 

“You are so goddamn perfect.”

If you weren’t already flushed from the situation, you most definitely would be from his compliment. You place a hand on Bradleys chest, pushing him slightly so he starts to walk backwards down your hall towards the bedroom, and while Bradley loved seeing you take a little bit of control he couldn’t let you have it all. So he very quickly has you pushed against the wall of the hall, right beside a photo of him and you, with his knee pressed between your thighs and he swears he can feel how wet you are through your panties and his dress trousers, causing him to groan as he kissed you once again. This time a little bit more fervently than the last. 

You happily reciprocate, mixing your tongue with his and throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. You moan gently as he knocks the knee in between your thigh against your aching core, which only encourages him to do it again only harder. This time you pull away from him with a desperate moan and he smirks at you. 

“You like that angel?” You nod your head at him as he presses against you again and this time you grind down to meet the movement, letting out a moan as you do so. The sight of you grinding down on his knee has Bradley groaning and growing even harder in his dress pants than he was before. He needed to have you and he needed to have you now. Quickly, Bradley falls to his knees in front of you, his hands making quick work of discarding your panties, and he moans at the sight of you. 

“You’re so wet angel, is all this for me?” He looks up at you through his lashes, hands now gripping onto your thighs and he looks so good between your thighs, pupils absolutely blown so that very little iris remains and a devilish smirk on his face. You can only nod at him, to which he tuts and bites gently down on your thigh causing you to whine. “Come on now angel, use your words like a good girl”

You swear you feel your wetness dripping down your thighs at his word and you bite back the whine gathering in your throat, “All for you lieutenant,” you had noticed the effect calling him by his rank had on him earlier and you were going to fully take advantage of that.

“That’s a good girl”

Suddenly Rooster licks a stripe up your slit, causing you to throw your head back with such force your picture frame shakes and let out a moan, your hand coming to tangle in Bradley’s hair as he continues to lick at your cunt. It goes at it like a man starved being presented his last meal, licking and sucking at your clit as he goes, which has you a moaning, panting mess above him, barely able to utter a coherent word other than ‘Bradley’. 

You were teetering so close to the edge now, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening. Bradley removed a hand from your thigh, instead bringing it round to rub gentle circles on your clit while he pushed his tongue into your entrance, causing you to tug on his hair with such a force that Bradley moaned and that was it, the coil in your stomach snapped and suddenly you were cuming all over Bradley’s face with a choked moan of his name.

But that didn’t stop him, no Bradley continued on throwing you into overstimulation as he swapped his finger and mouth. His mouth latched onto your clit while his middle finger slide into you, you were a babbling mess of ‘too much, too much’ but Bradley wasn’t going to stop. Not when you tasted and felt so good. Slowly he entered a second finger into you and you could feel your coil tightening once again as he moved in and out of you, occasionally curling his fingers to try and find the spot. Which he quickly does, your sharp intake of break and deep moan letting him know he’s found it. 

Bradley lets go of your clit with a pop and looks up at you, slightly teary eyed at the overstimulation and with your mouth wide open as moan and moan slipped from your lips. He could have stayed like this forever, just watching you as he got you off with his mouth and fingers. He continued to abuse your g-spot, pressing against every time his finger push into you, watching your face twist in pleasure as he does. God you look and feel so good that he can’t help but reach into his dress trousers to rub at his cock to get some kind of relief, because at this point he feels like he might burst. 

Bradley feels you tightening around his fingers and he presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, “You gonna cum for me again angel?” You nod your head, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure courses through you and the coil in your stomach gets tighter. This time Bradley bites at your thigh and scissors his fingers inside of you, “What I say angel? Gotta use your words?” 

You let out another strangled moan, the coil read to snap once again, “Yes lieutenant, gonna cum again.” Bradley smirks against your thigh, you can feel it against your skin as he presses another gentle kiss there, “Go ahead angel, cum for me.” 

Another strangled cry of his name falls past your lips as you cum for a second time and Bradley nearly moans at the sensation of you squeezing on his fingers and he can’t help imagine that feelings on his cock when he fucks you. Pulling his fingers from you, Bradley stands once again, smirking at your already fucked out expression, and places his fingers on your lips. Without needing instruction, you open your mouth and suck them in, swirling your tongue around them to clean them off. 

“You’re such a good girl angel.” You whimper at his words and Bradley pulls his fingers from your mouth to cup your jaw and pull you into another searing kiss as his other hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up to his waist in silent instruction, which you follow jumping to wrap both your legs around his waist, your bare cunt now rubbing against the fabric of his dress trousers and against his clothe cock hidden inside, causing a moan to fall from both your lips. 

Bradley pulls you from the wall and proceeds to move towards your bedroom, he had spent the night innocently when you first moved in earlier in the week and knew exactly where he was going, never breaking your kiss as he does. Gently, he lowers you down onto your bed before breaking your kiss to stand at the end of your bed and watch you. Your pupils are completely blown and you whine at the loss of contact, which he finds just absolutely adorable. 

“Patience angel. Now be a good girl and take your bra off for me.” You do as you're told, reaching behind you to unhook your bra and then throwing it somewhere in your bedroom, as Bradley reaches down and strips himself of his dress pants and boxers. Now, you had heard many a rumour in college about Bradley and how well endowed he was, and you were very happy to say that the rumours were true. 

As Bradley’s cock smacks against his stomach, you salivate at the sight of it. You sit up as Rooster crawls onto the bed, strong thighs in between your knees, your chest rubbing against his providing stimulation to your nipples that has you moaning which Bradley takes advantage of by shoving his tongue into your mouth. You moan at the sensation, one hand grabbing at his neck while the other reaches down to stroke his cock. 

You rub gently at the tip first, gathering the precum in your palm, which Bradley moans obscenely at, and then you start moving your hand up and down his length using the precum as a lubricant. You smirk into your kiss with Bradley as he continues to moan at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his length, suddenly the sensation of your nail scratching lightly at the underside of his cock has him cursing and stuttering forward. Bradley knew he wasn’t going to last long if you continued your teasing and there was no way he was going to cum unless he was wrapped in your pretty pussy. 

Suddenly Bradley grabs your hand from his length, as well as the one on his neck, and pins them above your head with one hand with a small growl that has you clenching your thighs together to get some friction despite having already came twice. 

“That's enough teasing from you angel.”

You whine lightly, and struggle against his grip, wanting to touch him, but he simply tuts at your behaviour and rubs his cock through your folds, catching your clit on the tip as he does. You moan at the sensation and let a please slip past your lips. 

“Please what baby?” 

“Ple…Please fuck…fuck me lieutenant” 

You can barely get the words out as Bradley continues rocking though your folds, hitting against your clit every time he does, but you do. Bradley smiles, leaning down to kiss you as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushing himself in. You gasp at the stretch, eyes closing and mouth falling open as you do. 

“You okay angel?” 

You nod your head, “Yes, feels s’good, keep going.”

Bradley was not one to deny you what he wanted, so slowly he kept going until he was bottomed out in you. God you felt absolutely amazing as you squeezed him trying to adjust to the size. He was definitely bigger than anything you had before, so you needed time to adjust. After a few seconds you're begging Bradley to move, you needed him to move, and so he obeys by pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in again which causes a loud, pornogaphic moan to fall from your lips. 

He does it again, and again, hitting the right spot over and over again as he did, which caused you to see stars but you still needed more. “Faster Bradley, please.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Bradley moves faster, causing a moan to fall from your lips with every movement. The pleasure was immense, you could feel every part of him inside you, every ridge and every vein pressing against your walls and you could swear his head was hitting against your cervix, and you could feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten once again. 

You begin to babble out Bradley’s name as you approached another orgasm and he threads the fingers of the hand holding your arms down with one of yours, letting the other one go to come down and grab at his shoulder as he pistoned his hips into you, “I’m right here angel, you’re doing so well for me.” 

He lets out a deep moan as you squeeze down on him with the praise, pressing kisses and bites to your shoulders and collarbones, moving his way down until his lips wrapped around your nipples as a way to contain his sounds and to stop him from speaking, because if you squeezed down on him everytime he praised you there was no way he was lasting to give you another orgasm, and he was determined to give you another one. 

With a sharp snap of his hips, he finds your g-spot once again, moving on from beating your cervix, and instead beating into that spot over and over again causing loud moans and whimpers to fall from yours lips as the coil inside you tightened and tightened again and with a whimper you let Bradley know you’re gonna cum again. 

With a pop he releases your nipple and brings his free hand down to rub at your clit to bring you over the edge as he continues his abuse of you g-spot, “Come on angel, cum for me. You’ve been taking me so well.” 

With the pressure on your clit and the praise falling from Bradley’s lips you quickly fall over the edge and cum around his cock, the pressure from you squeezing him so tightly causing his hips to stutter as he reaches his own peak, filling you up with his cum. You openly moan at the sensation of him pulsing inside you, the feeling of his cum painting your walls just felt amazing to you. 

Bradley quickly presses a kiss to your lips as he pulls out of your sensitive hole, and runs a hand gently through your hair, your little butterflies lost somewhere in the chaos. You place a hand against his cheek and kiss him back gently, your fingers moving to push some hair off his sweaty forehead. As he pulls his lips of yours, Bradley presses his forehead against yours with a goofy smile on his face. 

“You’re amazing (Y/N), I love you” 

“I love you too Bradley” 

Bradley lifts himself off you and off the bed, to which you groan already missing his warmth, and Bradley just rolls his eyes a little as he moves towards the bathroom. “I’m only getting a washcloth to clean up with, stop being a baby.” 

You still pout at his turned back, though you are grateful he’s going to clean you up, most men didn’t but then again Bradley wasn’t most men. He’s back in seconds, a damp washcloth in hand and he’s gentle in the way he wipes you down from your neck and chest to your aching pussy where his cum is dripping out, making sure to wipe down your thighs as well before throwing the washcloth in your wash basket.

Bradley gently lifts you from the bed, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he does, so he can pull back the blankets before he sets you back down. Though you are desperate for his touch, and he knows it, he goes over to the drawer he knows you keep your pyjamas in and pulls out and oversized shirt he gave you in college and then he goes to a drawer you had made up for him of some sweats and stuff so he could get changed at your place after training. 

Quickly, he slips the sweats on over his hips before making his way back over to you. Your eyes are slightly glazed over and they are struggling to stay open as you fight with sleep, but still you turn to him and match the small smile on his face. “Arms up”

Bradley’s voice is soft but still commanding and you do as your told, raising your arms up so he can put the oversized shirt on you. Once it’s on, he leans on the bed slightly and presses a kiss to your forehead, “You need anything angel? Water? Snacks?” 

You shake your head and move over on the bed, “Just you B”

Bradley smiles and crawls into bed next you, pulling you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulder. Your head rests on his pec while your hand reaches out to rest opposite you, just about his heart, and you follow the rhythm of beating until your eyes are closing and your drifting off to sleep.

---

You wake up to a text from an unknown number of a photo of you and Bradley wrapped up in one another in the ocean the night before, you seemed to be in the perfect position for the moon to illuminate your bodies as you kiss, “You’re souls are so deeply intertwined with one another that even the moon bends to your love xxx Molly”. 

#august.writes #written #one-shot #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick fluff #top fun maverick smut #top gun maverick one shot #top gun maverick x you #top gun maverick x yn #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x yn #bradley bradshaw one shot #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x you #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x yn #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw fluff #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw smut #tw.smut #tw.panic attack #tw.sex #tw.fingering #tw.pentration #tw.praise kink #tw.oral sex #tw.oral #tw.creampie #tw.overstimulation

[bas-writes]

nonsexual acts of intimacy ↬ head scratches

❧ inumaki toge x gn!reader | cw: aged up character, established relationship, domestic fluff ❧

It's surprising now how little is said between the two of you without any words. It's Inumaki who's bound by vows and limitations, there's nothing that forces you to adopt the same habits—and yet, you follow almost religiously. Silence has grown only natural, the sound of your voices scrunches like wet sand in your ears; not quite unpleasant but alien and unexpected. Even your own seems so out of place when you use it within your four walls. As if someone uninvited sneaked into your home and joined the conversation.

Frankly, you don't really need verbalization when everything that's needed could be read from your faces and bodies. Inumaki hasn't made a single sound but a gentle hum to announce himself when he's come back and yet, you already scoot to the side of the sofa, just enough for him to fit and enjoy some of the warmth your body left. He strays only to grab a blanket and a pack of snacks before he finally settles by your side, head in your lap.

"Rough day?" Your fingers ask, brushing strands out of his eyes. They're velvet-soft, slick and skim through your fingertips with ease, like threads of silk. It's almost unfair, for a guy who's dyed his hair since high school, if not earlier, to have it in such excellent condition. 

Inumaki's eyes smile at you through the net of little wrinkles. Out of you all, he's been touched by the passing time the least, but even his youthful appearance couldn't avoid all marks of years. Still, his weight pressed to your thighs, would suit rather a teenager than an adult man at the edge of his thirties. He's so thin…and it always worries you a little.

Again, no word or sign was exchanged, but Inumaki is smiling wider, understanding, when he opens the snack as soon as a grimace runs through your face.

"Don't worry about me," cookies crunch in his mouth. "See? I'm eating."

You indulge yourself and sink fingers deeper into his hair, shamelessly messing it. You don't have to worry about tangling it, it's too slick to tie into knots, so you reach straight for the scalp. Threading through strands, you gently scratch his skin and return his peaceful smile, blooming with appreciation for your care.

"Thank you, love," is said by a low, pleased rumble straight from his chest—the louder the closer you are to one of his favorite spots. He shamelessly presses against your hand to have them reached faster and almost pouts when you tease him and act against.

When you finally give in and curl your fingers to scratch him exactly to his liking, Inumaki visibly melts, all muscles relaxed and eyes closing in pleasure. Right now, he reminds you of a cat, arching its back for the willing hand of a favorite human. He even sounds similar—and the softness of his hair beats any feline fur you've touched so far.

"A kitty," you speak with your own voice this time, unwittingly, and far from a whisper. 

Inumaki lazily opens one eye, studies your surprised expression with a growing smirk.

"Go on," he asks through the dimples showing under the clan seal.

Or so you think at first, through the few seconds before the characteristic tingle of his cursed energy sneaks around your brain.

"You're my good kitty," you continue, embracing the soft encouragement pushing the words out of you. 

a/n: yes, I placed this drabble roughly 10 years past current manga events. dyed hair is just a silly headcanon of mine but I'd not be surprised if it was somewhat canon. don't kick me if it is, details easy escape my mind lmao

#inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #inumaki toge x reader #inumaki toge x you #inumaki x y/n #inumaki toge x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x y/n #bas writes #jjk #inumaki toge #gender neutral reader

[wtftarot]

PAC: Judgment

This one is going to be fucking intense, y'all. The Judgement card calls shit the fuck out. The Judgement card isn't judgemental though. It's all about self-reflection, taking a good, hard look in the mirror, and suspending your self-criticism so you can see yourself honestly. It can talk about a reckoning of biblical proportions, things being brought to the surface and nothing will ever be the same.

That being said this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Masterlist

Pick The Flag, The Angel, or because some of y’all’s guides have a sense of humor The Ass. And head on to your reading.

THIS IS THE JUDGMENT CARD. IT IS A TOUGH LOVE READING. IF THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU FEEL YOU NEED OR ARE IN GOOD HEADSPACE FOR, THIS ISN'T THE READING FOR YOU. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

The Horn

Ten of wands, Five of Cups, The Hanged Man, Five of Swords, Death Rx, Nine of Swords, Ace of Cups Rx, Eight of Cups Rx, Seven of Cups Rx, The Fool, and The Six of Wands.

Is it loud where y'all are at? Or is there usually a lot of noise going on where you're at? I don't think that has anything to do with the reading, just something I'm picking up on. Y'all know the Judgment card is not gonna pull any punches right? And you're ready for that? Alright then, y'all are stuck in the past and it's fuckin you over. I'm getting specifically that y'all replay embarrassing memories or replay times you fucked up over and over in your head and beat yourself up over them. Now most people do that to a degree, y'all though? Y'all do it a fuck ton. You need to stop beating yourself up for past shit. You don't have to start singing your own praises or whatever, just learning to stop that train of thought when it comes up would do wonders for you. I kept pulling cards for y'all because they felt empty, that's the only way I can describe it. Y'all are so fucking drained. It's like y'all are hanging around a well that's been dry for a while, but you won't leave cause what if you go looking and never find another one? THE WELL IS FUCKIN DRY SWEETIE. You refuse to let go of the past because what if the future is worse? Or what if you never find that again? Honey, I'm gonna give it to you straight (or bi?) By holding onto the past you are guaranteeing that the future will be worse. Hanging around a dusty ass well is worse than going looking for another one, full stop. I gotta be honest, it doesn't even look like you were happy with what you're holding on to. None of the cards talk about a happy past. I keep getting this imagery of ghosts haunting an abandoned house, but it feels like you're the ghost haunting your past. There's a vibe here too, that y'all are waiting for something to rush in and change things. Like some sorta lightning strike, epiphany, huge catalyst event that's like NOW, my life can start. Sweetie, that's you. You are the change maker in your life. I understand there's a fuck ton in life that's outside of our control, I get that. That's not what this reading is talking about. It's talking about how the choices you are making are keeping you stuck. How YOU are the catalyst for change in your life. Even small steps in the right direction will make a huge difference Your reading started with the Ten of Wands and ended with the Six. The imagery on them is really beautiful for this reading. In the deck I'm using, the Ten/Wands is depicted as ten sticks all tangled together, it feels like being stuck in a dark underbrush. The Six/Wands shows a blue butterfly flying out of a dark underbrush. You have the power to move toward a brighter future. You just need to take that power into your hands and stop trying to go back to the past. I believe in y'all.

Random ass vibes: enchiladas, butterflies, 888, pop-punk, 21, pink, pastel goth

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Angel

Seven/Cups, Knight/Cups Rx, Queen/Wands Rx, Eight/Swords Rx, Six/Swords, Wheel of Fortune Rx, Ace of Cups.

I'm seeing a watercolor painting of mountains. Someone painting scenery on a road-trip. This energy feels very soft, not gentle though. Like a cat that's cuddly but will tear you to shreds the second the mood strikes them. I feel like if you picked this group, you are one tough nut to crack. You've either had a rough life so far, are a rough person or both. Probably both. There's a softness that's calling you. A softer life coming your way, you probably feel it or have seen signs about it. It's freaking you the fuck out though ain't it? This life that you're being called to embrace, "being welcomed into" I'm hearing, is so soft and free and you've never felt that have you? It's terrifying. Honey. I fucking get y'all, I get this group wholefuckinheartedly. Y'all may be scared that this softer life will make you lose your instincts, that you will go soft and helpless. I think that's why the cat analogy came up, you won't lose it, babe don't worry. You won't be de-clawed just because you find a safe lap to curl up in. I'm feeling that the people that will come in with this softer life will love your edges and teeth. Knowing you will have their back when shit hits the fan will make them feel so safe with you and vis versa. Cause believe me they will have your back just as you do theirs. This energy is dark and intense and soft and warm all at once. It's so fuckin beautiful. Here's the catch, cause you knew it was coming: You have to start creating room for this softer energy. You have to start being softer with yourself, not judging yourself for wanting that softness. Stop ridiculing soft things, open things. I know you can take the hard times in stride but stop making yourself. Just because you can handle the hard shit doesn't mean you have to all the time. There is so much ease with this energy, it's just like a whisper in my ear. This is a time of rest coming to you but you have to kinda train yourself a bit for it, teach yourself that these things are okay. Otherwise, you may just lose your shit cause it's so fuckin foreign to you. (I keep seeing a flash of a long caption on instagram?? I don't know what that means at all, I hope it clicks for one of y'all. ) I keep getting the sense that y'all are worried about losing who you are if you embrace this energy, you won't. That intensity? The claws? The smartass mouth and edge? All yours to keep. We don't lose the night and storms when spring comes now do we? The only difference now is that you'll have a shoulder to lean on and will have moments of peace. BUT you have to stop judging yourself for even thinking about a softer way, seriously. How the hell are you going to be ready to embrace this fuckin awesome new chapter if you can't even THINK about it without mentally berating yourself? You don't have to do a complete 180 immediately, just stop yourself when you catch yourself repeating those thoughts. Just change the subject, do not engage. You can argue with those self-berating thoughts if you want, ngl this group seems like take no shit types. And let's be honest, we all know that you can't mentally beat yourself into the person you want to be, anymore than you could repeatedly neglect and destroy a seedling and have it grow into a huge ass tree. Things don't get stronger by being repeatedly broken down and destroyed. Y'all have had enough of the tough-love, hustle, push harder to do better. It's your turn for ease.

random ass vibes: art, Hozier, rainy forests, two-lane highways, candy, hammocks, fresh laundry, fire.

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Ass

Four/Swords Rx, The High Priestess, Three/Pentacles, Queen/Swords Rx, The Tower Rx, Seven/Pentacles Rx, Ace/Wands and Ace/Swords Rx on the back of the deck.

Y'all's guides think they're fuckin hilarious. Not only did they keep pushing me to pick the person's ass as the picture for your group. When I was writing up the lil intro at the top, I wrote something about a good, hard look in the mirror and I heard giggling and "yea look at the dick in the mirror". (jokingly calling you a dick, not in a really mean way, more like the way you call a friend a dick) They're giggling again as I'm writing this. This energy is very youthful and light. I think y'all tend to be very hard on your past self, very critical. I keep hearing "should've known better". You need to give yourself a break, especially from past mistakes. (Do y'all have trouble focusing? I cannot seem to focus on this group, so I'm sorry if it's coming across as very jumbled. )There's a deep need to go inward and explore your inner self. I think y'all actively avoid going inward, dealing with your own emotions. It's like y'all are running away from your inner child. Some of you may have had a rough childhood but I'm getting that it's more that y'all kinda bully your past self/ inner child, as they are one and the same. It's interesting, it feels like a few of y'all are demanding yourselves to be a way that you're not naturally and it's alienating your inner child. Now, I can't say who you are naturally, not my place. I can say judging by the cards, some of y'all are pushing yourselves to be more of a logical hardass than you are and for others of you it's the opposite, you're pushing yourselves to be more intuitive, touchy-feely than you are naturally. No Judgements for either side, I do want to say whether you figure out you're more or less logical/intuitive, you can still be into tarot and everything. All are welcome. All of y'all are punishing yourselves for not being how you think you "should" be though. I do mean punishing, too. Y'all can be downright cruel to yourselves when you try to be. Pay attention to what you're saying to yourself in those moments, as I'm getting that you may be parroting something cruel that was said to you as a kid. I mean, do you even truly believe what you're saying to yourself? Cause, honestly it looks like you do and value different skill sets and understand that everyone is different and does embarrassing shit sometimes, but you have a different standard for yourself. I'm hearing something like "Yeah but everyone' beats themselves up over embarrassing shit, everyone does this, and everyone hates themselves for past mistakes. Sweetie, everyone cringes at their past, not everyone is cruel to themselves the way you are. I don't think you realize how incredibly harsh your thoughts toward your past self can be. You wonder why you can never seem to connect with your inner child when you've become their biggest bully. I mean no offense and I'm not judging you, I'm just your guide's lil messenger. I didn't intend for this to be an inner child reading, that is what it needs to be, though. The Judgment card talks about calling things to the surface, and facing the truth of you head on. Your self-judgments are leaving your inner child feeling abandoned by you. You're picking apart the foundation of yourself and wondering why you never feel like you're on solid ground. This reading is calling you to go back to basics for yourself. I'm seeing for those of you who never really had a time when you could be a child, not only is this more relevant for you, it'll have more of an impact. Think back to what made you feel safe as a kid, or what you wanted to do to make yourself feel safe that you couldn't for whatever reason. Shows you watched or wanted to watch. The food you wanted. Buy yourself a toy, playdough is cheap as hell. If you're still pretty young and you're reading this, let yourself BE young. The world is so fuckin demanding and puts so much pressure on everyone to be "mature" and grow up as fast as possible and it's bullshit. Being easier on your past self/inner child will give you that spark and energy you've felt was missing. You're never too old to let yourself feel like a kid.

random ass vibes: spinning around til you fall, gardening, 222, birthday candles, art, blanket forts,

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#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #wtftarot #pick a picture #pick a photo #pac reading

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Pick Your Poison

author note: next part finally! i enjoyed writing Vil, I've never written for him before and really wanted to do a good job. i thought alot about his values and how to put across his character, so i hope it doesn't seem too ooc, as i have never written him before now! next up is Ignihyde, and i'm planning to get that out before the end of the month! I've had an idea for that chapter for months, and i'm really excited to write it and add a little twist ≧✯◡✯≦ hope you enjoy!!

characters: Vil Schoenheit x GN!Reader

Something was definitely up.

Really, you should be relieved. This is what you had wanted all along, the whole reason that you had kept a low profile in the first place. But for some reason, now you just felt disconcerted. Uneasy, like there was an axe hanging above your head, ready to drop any moment.

Azul had still overblot. It wasn’t unexpected, especially considering you were the one who gave the Heartslabyul braincell duo the hot tip on where exactly they should look to get some leverage on Azul. You had no idea of what Leona’s involvement was in the whole situation, if he was at all, and you weren’t present to witness Azul’s overblot. But that wasn’t the part that had you all shaken up.

No.

The part that disturbed you was that Jamil’s overblot still happened, and you had absolutely no involvement in the events. You made sure you stayed well away from Scarabia, from Kalim, from Jamil. Even when you inevitably ran into him in the cafeteria kitchen when you were feeding the fire fairies, you made sure not to stare into his eyes, staring at his lips or anywhere else instead. You excused yourself as soon as possible, even though you were sure you’d aroused Jamil’s suspicions at least a little bit with your flighty behaviour.

You had wondered what the consequences of this would be. Would Jamil’s initial plan be a success and Kalim would end up ousted from his role as housewarden? Would Jamil take his place and finally be satisfied? Would his overblot be avoided altogether?

Clearly not.

You first noticed that something was up when Grim didn’t return back to Ramshackle one afternoon after the two of you had split up the work of feeding the fire fairies. You had hoped that he was just taking his sweet time, but he didn’t return that evening, or the evening after that. You debated with the idea of going and helping him out, but eventually decided not to. You felt a little bad, sure, but you trusted Grim’s tenacity to get him out of trouble.

When Grim finally returned home, he was practically bursting at the seams to tell you everything that had happened during his absence. Such willingness earned him a can of premium tuna, which you kept on hand for bribery. As you had expected, he had spent the last couple of days playing through the story route for book four. After becoming embroiled in the study hell that brainwashed Kalim was forcing on the Scarabia students, Grim escaped only to fall straight into the arms of Octavinelle. From what Grim had told you, book four played out exactly the same as the game, even without your presence, with Octavinelle’s meddling resulting in Jamil’s plan being foiled and him subsequently overblotting. Grim was particularly proud to tell you that even when Azul and the Leech twins had asked about you, he had not said a single peep about you. You gave him another can of premium tuna for that, hoping that one it was true, and two that he would be more inclined to continue being as discrete in the future.

You wondered if book four had continued as planned without your presence because the main character was more passive during that book then they were in all previous books. It was getting harder to wrack your brain and remember all the finer details of each book, especially considering that actually being in Twisted Wonderland when these events were unfolding was giving you seriously nauseating amounts of déjà vu.

All of these feelings led you to your next plan of action. With the culture fair fast approaching, that meant that book five was also on the horizon. And that meant you would have to deal with Vil Schoenheit. You’d been lucky enough to avoid any interactions with him at all since arriving in Twisted Wonderland, and you wanted to keep that streak going, preferably. You needed to not participate in the SDC at all, and you definitely couldn’t have the NRC Tribe staying at Ramshackle.

So yet again, you kept your head down. You didn’t go to the audition with Ace and Deuce, although you did feel bad enough about ditching them to watch their practices once or twice. When Rook’s message on an arrow summoned you to the Pomefiore ballroom after school with Ace and Deuce, you refused to attend. The Heartslabyul duo were confused at your outright refusal, but you managed to convince them that you had no interest in the SDC and simply wanted to focus all your energy on finding a way home. They both seemed to accept that, even if they found your behaviour a little odd.

That resulted in the Headmage paying you a rare visit in the library a few days later. He had implored you to find ‘enough kindness in your heart’ to share Ramshackle dorm with the SDC members. You had refused, of course, even after he tried to sweeten the deal by promising to pay for renovations to Ramshackle, which you knew were never going to happen. Crowley even had the audacity to promise to increase his exploration in a way home for you, which very almost had you throwing one of the books you had in front of you at him. You didn’t particularly want to upset the library ghosts. You managed to chase off Crowley by using the opening he had given you when he had brought up your home situation, with you pressing the Headmage on what exactly he had been doing this whole time. You were hoping that was the end of it, and if you just kept your head down and refused to cooperate, you could stay safely in the background.

But of course that wasn’t the end of it, because for some reason everyone at Night Raven College wanted to test your patience, even if you hadn’t officially met them yet.

You had left the library late that night, having gotten carried away reading one of the books you had sourced. Whilst the books that you read in an attempt to figure out a way home were often dense and confusing, you often came across interesting sections. You’d never dreamed that you’d be reading textbooks about magic, real magic, so it was so easy to get lost when interesting tidbits about forgotten magical practices or magical artifacts came up. You were startled when one of the library ghosts gave you a not so gentle fright to let you know it was late and you should probably go home, and you didn’t need any more persuading.

You were sure that Grim had probably fended for himself for dinner and you wondered if he would be that upset if you snagged one of his tins of tuna for himself as you crossed over the threshold into Ramshackle. You yawned, not bothering to cover your mouth, and attempting to stretch your stiff shoulders and back as you slowly ambled through the walkway towards the kitchen.

“If you paid more attention to your posture, you wouldn’t be feeling stiff at all.”

You froze in the walkway when you heard that familiar voice that shouldn’t feel familiar.

You doubled back several steps until you were looking in through the doorway towards the lounge, where none other than Vil Schoenheit sat on your couch, demurely sipping from one of your mugs. Your expression must have said it all, because he brought the mug away from his lips and raised an elegant eyebrow at you.

“Must you gawk? It does nothing for your features.”

You hadn’t even realised your mouth was hanging open, and you promptly snapped it shut. “What are you doing here?” You stuttered out before you managed to regain some of your composure, “I told the Headmage I wasn’t interested in hosting the NRC Tribe, so if he told you that—”

“I know what you said. I’m here because I think you should reconsider.” Vil remarked, a certain haughtiness in his tone that told you he thought you were being unnecessarily difficult. He gestured toward a free seat on the sofa, as if it was his lounge, not yours.

You blinked, slightly taken back by the audacity before you leaned heavily on the doorframe, pinching the bridge of your nose as that familiar feeling of frustration that you got when you had to deal with any of characters pestering you began to build in your bones. “Look—” You began.

“No, sit. We will be having a proper discussion about this.” Vil cut you off with an air of authority, one wielded by someone who often got their way, one way or another. Your eyes narrowed, your hand dropping from your face so Vil could feel the full impact of your disdain. “This is my dorm, Schoenheit, you should be treating me with more respect. You can’t order me around here.”

Vil gave you a smile that was as demeaning as it was beautiful. “Of course. But we are both housewardens, and housewardens should treat each other with mutual respect, no? The least you could do is give me the courtesy of a discussion.”

If you never had to deal with another housewarden again, it would be too soon.

You huffed but relented, moving over towards one of the sofas and all but threw yourself down, with elicited another eyebrow raise from Vil. Your phone tumbled out of your pocket on impact, lighting up in all its cracked glory and drawing Vil’s eye. “You should really get that fixed.” Vil commented dryly, and you scoffed whilst flipping it over, hiding it from his critical gaze.

“There is nothing you can say that will convince me to host the NRC Tribe here, so you’re just wasting your breath.” You said bluntly, hoping to end this pointless conversation quickly, but Vil didn’t look phased.

“I thought you might say that, so lets just cut to the negotiations. If you allow the NRC Tribe to stay here until the SDC concludes, Rook and I shall donate our share of the prize to Ramshackle dorm. Should we win, of course.” Vil looked at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes.

“Crowley already tried to bribe me, and I’m not buying it.” You responded cooly, “I don’t intend to stay at Ramshackle, or even Twisted Wonderland, long enough to enjoy any benefit from allowing the NRC Tribe to stay here.” A bluff, considering you had no new leads on how to get home, but Vil didn’t seem to catch on, “also, all that hinges on the NRC Tribe actually winning the SDC. Not saying I don’t have any faith…” Which of course you don’t, you know the outcome. “… But as I’ve already made clear, I really don’t want to host, especially not out the goodness of my heart.”

To his credit, Vil seemed to be mulling over your words, placing his mug of tea down so he could fold his arms gracefully in front of him. “Ah yes, I see… The Headmage did mention you had been researching quite steadfastly. You know, tenacity is the pillar of Pomefiore…” You swear you could see a hint of respect in his eyes as he looked on at you approvingly, before he continued on with his train of thought, “then how about something more short term to sweeten the deal? Such as…” His eyes darted down to your poor phone. “Perhaps I could arrange for your phone to be fixed?”

You scoffed. “Who are you, Azul?” Vil frowned at that comparison, looking a little affronted. Good.

“How about this, then. The NRC Tribe stays here for the time that we need, and that’ll be it. You won’t be expected to carry out any support duties, nor give us any of your time. Furthermore, I’ll provide groceries for the full duration that we are at Ramshackle, and I won’t tell Crowley about it. Perhaps then you can put your living allowance for that month towards something to help with your research? All you need to do is allow us use of your free rooms and living space for a limited period. And of course, if NRC tribe are victorious at the SDC, I still intend to donate my share of the prize to Ramshackle.”

It was a tempting offer.

What you wanted was to not be involved with the SDC at all, and this allowed you to do that. You wouldn’t be the manager, or support in any form. You wouldn’t even have to see the NRC Tribe if you didn’t want to, you’re pretty sure you could negotiate further with Vil that the members weren’t to disturb you at all during their stay. You had already seen how Vil had ruled with an iron fist during the story, if it got him what he wanted, he would see it done.

But… With the NRC Tribe staying at Ramshackle, there was a risk that Ace and Deuce would gravitate towards you, and then Grim would get dragged in, which would likely end with you getting caught up and… You shook your head, looking towards Vil resolutely. “No, that’s not going to work for me. Sorry, but the NRC Tribe are going to have to find somewhere else for their training camp.”

Vil stared at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was studying you before he sighed, twisting his wrist around elegantly to check the time. “I’ll allow you to sleep on it. We can continue this topic again in the morning. Its time for me to retire for the evening, I don’t want to waste the effects of that herbal tea.”

You crooked an eyebrow as Vil stood, following suit shortly after. He drank a sleep tea in your dorm, even though he had to walk back to his own dorm? Odd, but each to their own. Maybe it was a Pomefiore thing? You did vaguely remember from the game that Vil set strict standards for himself…

You followed him out of the lounge, planning on giving him the courtesy of walking him to the door. Whilst he had invaded your home, he had been civil, which was more than you could say about half the other people on campus who pestered you on campus.

Of course, you had no idea just how deeply Vil had taken root in your home during your absence.

As you left the lounge, Vil turned towards the staircase instead of continuing down the walkway to where the main doors lie. “Uh, Vil. Wrong way. The entrance is this way.” You directed politely, only for Vil to continue walking. As he reached the first stair, he looked over his shoulder at you, with a look you could only describe as coy.

“Didn’t I mention, my dear? I’ve already moved in.”

For the second time that evening, your jaw dropped. Was he serious?!

“Vil—” You began, but he was already continuing up the stairs, clearly unbothered by your surprise and discontent. “I’ll see you in the morning, bright and early to continue our discussion. Sleep well, Prefect.”

You could only watch as Vil climbed the stairs and disappeared deeper into Ramshackle, hearing the creaky sound of the door of the room he had chosen opening and closing as he retired for the night. You were rendered absolutely speechless. You had never anticipated something like this happening. Even without agreeing to having the NRC Tribe stay at Ramshackle for their training camp, you still had Vil Schoenheit staying here anyway?! You scrubbed your hands over your tired face in frustration.

Just what else were you in for?

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst vil #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader