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ginnsbaker · 1 month ago

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All Of Your Pieces (14 - The Twins)

Chapter Summary: Stark's Annual Charity Ball pulls the invisible string that finally nudges you and Wanda in the right direction.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 6.2k+ | Chapter Tags: Age of Ultron!Wanda, Mild angst, comfort, fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything new in more than 2 weeks, but I'll just keep posting the chapters I've finished *cries* Anyway, this particular update is a milestone in R and Wanda's relationship, and it involves an auction. Kinda obvious where that will lead us to, yea? Enjoy! // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“I can't believe you're letting Tony pimp me out to some geriatric billionaire—” you stormed into Steve's office, tracking mud across the carpet.

It was pouring outside, and as soon as you arrived at the compound, Vision greeted you with a curious question. “What's a human auction? Is it like those slave sales back in the 1500s?” he had asked. You had brushed him off, heading straight for the one person you knew had to have given the final approval on this sort of thing.

“Whoa, hold on a second,” Steve cut in, his eyes going wide as he dropped his pen. He braced himself, clearly prepared for whatever wild accusation you were about to hurl his way. “No one is going to be ‘pimped out’ at Stark's Annual Charity Ball!”

Natasha, sprawled in a leather chair by the window, ankle cocked over knee, quirked an eyebrow at your entrance, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Someone’s fired up today,” she commented dryly.

You paced, the wooden floor creaking underfoot, fingers threading through your hair. “Then what do you call auctioning me off like some kind of prize to the highest bidder?” you demanded.

He leaned back, the chair groaning under his weight. “It’s not like that. You know it’s one of the biggest fundraising events of the year. We make an appearance every time to show our support.”

“Yes, make an appearance,” you jabbed the air with your finger. “Smile for the cameras, shake a few hands—that I can handle. But being part of an auction? That's crossing a line.”

Natasha shook her head, clearly amused by your distress. “You know, the bidders aren't all bad. Sure, some of them might be older, but age brings experience. You might end up meeting an attractive, mature woman. Isn't that your dream?”

You shot her a skeptical look. “Very funny, Nat.”

“Lighten up, darling.”

You squinted at her. “Are you one of the prizes to bid on?”

“Nope,” she replied without elaboration, her face giving away nothing.

Turning back to Steve, you threw your hands up in exasperation. “You said everybody was involved!”

He squirmed, eyes darting away. “Well, not everyone.”

“Great,” you muttered sarcastically. “So who’s actually on the block?”

Steve started counting off on his fingers. “There's me. Vision agreed to participate—some tech leaders are eager to meet him. Sam volunteered; he's offering a personalized flight experience. Bruce is giving a private lecture on gamma radiation. Even Don from accounting signed up.”

“Don from accounting?” you echoed incredulously. “The guy who brings tuna sandwiches for lunch every day?”

“He's offering financial planning sessions,” Natasha said. “Riveting stuff.”

It seemed everyone had a well-thought-out plan tailored to their expertise—everyone, that is, except you.

“So, what are you guys expecting me to offer?” you asked, already dreading the answer.

Steve swapped a look with Natasha, then cleared his throat. “Tony was thinking you could throw in something exclusive—like a dinner, maybe an entire evening out, for the highest bidder.”

“A date?” you scoffed.

“Think of it less as being ‘sold’ and more as donating your irresistible presence for a noble cause,” Natasha said.

“Me?” you said, pointing to yourself with a sardonic chuckle. “Irresistible?”

Natasha smirked. “Don't sell yourself short. Some people might find your brooding charm... appealing.”

“Careful, Romanoff,” you retorted, a sly grin on your face as you sauntered over with a mischievous sway in your step. “Keep talking like that, and I might think you're flirting with me.”

She barely spared you a glance. “Not in a million years.”

“So, there's a number?” you quipped, grinning wider.

“Alright, that's enough,” Steve barked, pushing himself off his chair, trying to look like the picture of authority. “The auction lineup is final; people have already shown interest. All I'm asking is for two hours of you on your best behavior. Can you do that?”

You shrugged, already backing toward the door. “No promises,” you muttered, turning to leave.

As you rushed out of Steve's office, you collided abruptly with what felt like a solid wall—only it turned out to be someone.

More specifically, Wanda. You caught a wisp of her red before it vanished completely, suggesting she'd instinctively used her powers to cushion her own impact. Good for her. For you? Not so much.

“Sorry, didn't see you there,” you said, rubbing a tender spot on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Wanda's eyes widened when she saw you, like a deer caught in headlights. She nodded too eagerly before excusing herself as if she was in a hurry. You shrugged and turned back to the direction you were heading.

It had been over a week since you'd inadvertently caused a scene at a restaurant Wanda often visited, leading you to awkwardly apologize later with takeout. After Wanda stormed out that night, you lost interest in your date and ended up cutting the evening short just as Alex was suggesting drinks. Your relationship with Wanda hadn’t really improved or worsened since then, which was probably for the best, all things considered. You had noticed, however, that Vision seemed to stick by her side even more than before. You’re happy for them. Ever since he told you that Wanda was lonely, you thought she needed someone like him—a truly devoted friend or more.

“Two hours,” you muttered to yourself as you entered your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. “How hard can it be?”

—

It was a spectacle—exactly what you'd expect from a Stark event.

Hosted at New York's iconic Metropolitan Museum of Art, the fundraiser didn't just rival the Met Gala—it eclipsed it. The guest list was a who's who of the world's elite, pulling not only A-list celebrities from fashion and entertainment but also power brokers from technology, real estate, automotive, food, and pharmaceuticals.

Your teammates were dispersed throughout the venue. Having arrived half an hour earlier, you hadn't spotted any of them yet, but you suspected they were probably doing the same thing you were—stalling, avoiding the spotlight until the last possible moment when they would have to step forward and be seen. You found yourself lingering near the entrance, fidgeting with the straps of your elegant black dress. It was a daring choice, selected by a fashion guru Tony had brought in specifically for this event. You had resisted this outfit until the final moment, relenting only when Tony threatened to schedule you for more public appearances—gigs he usually delegated to Rhodes or Sam on ordinary days.

“Looking sharp,” Clint remarked, coming up beside you. He was adjusting his bow tie, a slight grin on his face as he took in your outfit.

Finally—someone to stick with for the rest of the evening.

“Flattery won't get you out of babysitting duty tonight,” you teased, trying to ignore the anxious butterflies in your stomach.

He chuckled, his eyes scanning the patrons. “Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, scanning the room yourself.

You tried to distract yourself by diving into shop talk with Clint, who indulged you but seemed more focused on his martini, sipping and nodding with the occasional terse response. It was fine by you; at least it was a way to pass the time until the event wrapped up.

Soon, Natasha joined you, wearing a glittery gold dress that was both classy and seductive, covering most but highlighting just enough. You made an effort not to stare too much at your mentor. Back in your rookie year with the team, you'd harbored a bit of a crush on her, but that had faded as she took a more active role in your training. Over time, you came to see her as a sister, finding in her and Clint the semblance of the family you never had.

She complimented Clint on his suit before turning to you. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Trying to,” you replied truthfully.

“Here,” Natasha said, offering you her glass of champagne. “Two more of these and you’ll be fine.”

You accepted the glass, taking a tentative sip. It did little to settle your nerves, but you appreciated the gesture. “Thanks.”

“Look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Clint announced, nodding toward the entrance.

Vision had just arrived, dressed to impress. He resembled a polished gentleman, a look so fitting it was almost comical—like he belonged in a museum exhibit. You stifled a laugh at the thought, chiding yourself for even entertaining such a cheeky idea. Notably absent was Wanda, who you had expected to see at his side.

“Vision actually looks... dapper,” you observed.

Behind Vision, Sam and Rhodey entered, each with a stunning woman on their arm. Sam's date wore a sleek silver gown that shimmered under the lights, while Rhodey's companion was radiant in royal blue.

“Where's Bruce?” Natasha asked, glancing around the room. “He was supposed to be here by now.”

Clint emptied his glass of drink just in time for the waiter to arrive with a new one. “Haven't seen him. Steve's getting nervous he's a no-show.”

You frowned. “Wait, we can do that? Just... not show up?”

“If you're the Hulk, yeah, probably.”

“And Tony?” you asked.

“You know he doesn’t attend his own parties these days,” Clint said.

“Anyone seen Wanda?” Natasha asked suddenly.

For a moment, you'd forgotten about her. You hadn't heard anything about her participating in the auction, and you didn't want to ask why. She was still relatively new to the team, and the events of Sokovia were still fresh in everyone's minds. Maybe Tony didn’t want to stir the pot by introducing the newest member so soon.

“Haven’t seen her,” Clint replied. “Maybe she's skipping it.”

“Or maybe she's just running late,” Natasha suggested.

You shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “Either way.”

Just then, the grand hall’s light dimmed, and the spotlight found its way to the center of the stage where Steve stood, clad in a classic tuxedo, his hair slicked back, the blue of his eyes catching the light and gleaming under the gaze of hundreds who adored him.

“Good evening, everyone,” he started, racking up cheers from the crowd, mostly from the women up front. “On behalf of the Avengers and Stark Industries, thank you for joining us tonight. Your generosity makes a profound difference.”

For a guy who was frozen for half a century, he sure had a knack for working a room and blending into this new era. You shifted your weight, trying to quell the restless energy inside you. Who would make a bid for you? Or worse, what if no one did? Each thought was as mortifying as the other. You reached for your third glass of champagne, trying to drown the embarrassment that had started with Natasha's first toast.

Steve went on, “We're starting tonight's auction with some exclusive items straight from Tony's personal garage—a collection of rare prototypes and unique gadgets.”

The first item was wheeled out—a sleek, custom-built motorcycle with cutting-edge tech enhancements. The crowd murmured appreciatively. Bidding was enthusiastic, and the motorcycle sold for an impressive sum. Next came a high-tech smartwatch with capabilities far beyond anything on the market, followed by a limited-edition arc reactor, encased in glass as a piece of art.

As the last of Tony's treasures was auctioned off, Steve returned to the microphone. “And now, we have something very special. For the first time tonight, we're offering you the opportunity to spend time with two of our own heroes.”

The cheer was resounding. You wanted to throw up at the sound of it.

“First up,” Steve announced, “we have Vision.”

A spotlight found Vision as he made his way to the stage. He nodded politely to the audience and they cheered even louder.

“The winning bidder will enjoy a personalized afternoon with Vision,” Steve continued. “A chance to discuss philosophy, technology, or any subject of your choosing.”

The bidding began immediately.

“Fifty thousand,” someone called out.

“Seventy-five,” another voice said.

“One hundred thousand!”

A collective gasp filled the ballroom. From there, the bids shot up even more quickly.

“One hundred fifty thousand!”

“Two hundred thousand!”

“Two hundred fifty thousand!” a woman declared from the back, her paddle held high.

It was the highest bid of the night so far.

“Going once, going twice... sold to bidder number 112 for two hundred fifty thousand dollars!” Steve announced, leading a round of applause.

Vision gave a gracious nod before exiting the stage.

You took a deep breath, realizing your turn was next. And there was no way you could go higher than Vision.

“And now,” Steve continued, “we have another incredible opportunity. An exclusive experience with one of our most skilled team members, Y/N.”

The spotlight swung in your direction. With a gentle nudge from Clint, you made your way to the stage, your heart pounding. Standing beside Steve, you tried to focus on the faces in the crowd, but the bright lights made it difficult.

You were expecting Steve to mention what you had to offer, but you were pleasantly surprised that he went right ahead to the bidding.

“Do I hear twenty thousand?” the auctioneer prompted.

An initial silence stretched on longer than you'd hoped.

“Twenty thousand,” a woman called out softly.

“Thirty thousand,” added a man seated toward the middle.

The bidding was slow compared to Vision's, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You wanted to kill Steve and Tony after this. You swore to yourself you would.

“Forty thousand,” the woman countered.

“Forty-five,” came another bid.

Just as you began to resign yourself to a modest outcome, a new bidder declared his interest.

“Sixty thousand,” declared a man standing near the side of the room.

You squinted, trying to make out his features. He was well-dressed, with dark hair and a pleasant disposition. Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn't quite place where you'd seen him before.

“Seventy thousand,” the previous bidder upped the ante.

“Eighty thousand,” the newcomer responded.

The crowd began to take more interest.

“Do I hear ninety?” the auctioneer asked.

Your face was hurting from smiling the entire time, and you could feel sweat starting to roll down from the base of your exposed neck.

“Ninety thousand,” called out the woman from before.

The bids climbed steadily until the man finally offered a hundred-twenty.

Everybody held their breaths, waiting to see if this bid would top Vision’s, despite the auction's sluggish beginning.

“Going once, going twice... sold to bidder number 214 for one hundred twenty thousand dollars!”

The applause swelled around you as you stood there. You weren't hung up on how well you performed; you were just relieved it was finally over.

“Congratulations,” Steve said, pulling you into a hug. You kept your smile in place, leaned in close, and whispered, “This isn't over.”

The man who had won the bid was being escorted by one of the event staff to meet you.

As you approached him, recognition clicked into place. His name was Daniel—a member of the support staff at the Avengers compound. You'd seen him around, handling logistics and occasionally assisting with training setups.

He had that much amount of money to spend on you?

“Daniel?” you said, extending a hand. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

He shook your hand with a friendly smile. “Good to see you, Y/N. Actually, I'm here on behalf of someone else."

Before you could ask, he gestured toward a quiet hallway. “The person who actually bid on you and won is waiting for you down that hall.”

You entered a quaint gallery displaying an array of quirky artifacts that seemed centuries old—though your limited attention in history classes made it impossible to pinpoint their exact origins or era. What made you stop and stare was how it was peaceful and kind of personal, with no crowds to elbow through. You could see why some folks find it therapeutic to hang out in museums and galleries like this.

Standing near a large window was a figure. That unmistakable posture was all too familiar.

“Wanda?” you called out, startled.

She turned to face you, and her nervousness was impossible to miss. It clashed with how stunning she looked in her gown—a deep red that draped perfectly, with a daring neckline that plunged but somehow still looked elegant. The sleeves fluttered around her arms, and her brunette hair cascaded in wild waves, shortened by the curls to just past her shoulders. She was breathtaking.

Looking between Wanda and the closed door, you tried to piece it together. “So... you hired Daniel to bid for you?”

Wanda nodded. “I didn't want to draw attention by bidding myself. I hope that's okay.”

Warmth spread through you. Why would Wanda bid such a substantial amount of money for time with you, especially when you saw each other every day? It was odd, a little unsettling, but at least you weren’t paired with a complete stranger whose intentions might be unclear.

Though… what were Wanda’s intentions?

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked softly, her eyes searching yours. It hit you then—you hadn’t said a word in a while.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, snapping out of your thoughts. “I’m just… surprised.”

Wanda took a few steps, not toward you, but toward the exit. “I didn't mean to—I just... If this makes you uncomfortable, we can just forget the whole thing.”

You could have simply taken her up on the offer, paid her back, and moved on. But instead, something compelled you to reach out and grasp her arm before she could leave. Wanda glanced over her shoulder, her expression a mix of wariness and curiosity.

You searched for the right words, your heart pounding. Then, a small smile formed on your lips as you shrugged lightly. “Do you want to get out of here?”

—

For a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, Wanda Maximoff didn’t just secure a free hotdog sandwich—she also claimed what might be the best view in the city. Better than the one from the Empire State Building, even—an exaggeration, perhaps, but isn’t any view more breathtaking when shared with the right person?

It was hardly the deal of a lifetime, but there you were, actually trying to make it worth her while.

Sitting together on a quiet rooftop terrace, the city's lights stretched out before you like a shimmering sea. You took a bite of your hotdog, moaning at the comfort of a simple snack.

Wanda glanced over at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “This is nice,” she said.

You swallowed your bite and turned to face her. "Can I ask you something?"

“Of course.”

“Why did you bid on me?” you asked. “I mean, you could've bid on Vision.”

Wanda looked fairly confused. “Why would I bid on Vision?”

You shrugged, biting your tongue to keep yourself from insinuating to Wanda that he’s her boyfriend. Well, wasn’t he?

Wanda laughed softly, causing a smile to form on your own lips.

“Vision is always there,” she began thoughtfully. “Even when I don't ask for him, he shows up. Some days, it felt like there was too much of him.”

That was… unexpected. “I thought you two were close,” you said.

“We are, in a sense,” she said. “He's got a good heart, smart, well-meaning. But there are times I just need to be left alone. With Vision, it's as if he's always trying to figure me out, not just exist alongside me.”

You took a slow bite, chewing over her words. “Well, Vision does seem like an honorable person. I think he really cares about you.”

She smiled faintly. “I know he does. And I care about him too. But it's complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Wanda sighed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. You gave her space, watching silently until she turned to face you. When she did, you were struck by her eyes—a vivid green that outshone the moon itself.

“He's still figuring out what it means to be... human,” she explained. “Emotions, relationships—they're concepts he's learning, and sometimes I feel like a subject in an experiment.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way,” you whispered. Believing Vision would simply cure Wanda's loneliness was naive. You regretted the times you thought it was so simple, pushing her towards someone else just to keep her at arm's length. Now, sitting side by side on the terrace of your apartment—a detail you hadn't mentioned to Wanda—you realized her company wasn't so bad. Removed from the context of her powers and past faults, she seemed almost ordinary. And it didn't hurt that she was undeniably beautiful—a fact that admittedly played a part in why you had kept your distance. Her appearance made it too easy to become distracted.

“I could do a lot worse,” Wanda said lightly.

“Yeah,” you replied, before pointing to yourself. “You’re looking at her.”

Her laughter erupted, full and unrestrained. You realized you enjoyed hearing it—and even more, being the reason for it.

After a moment, you took a deep breath. “You know, you didn’t have to bid on me just to hang out. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was cold to you. It's just, initially, we were on opposite sides, and I'm kind of a loner by nature.”

“I didn’t bid on you for the company,” she said. “I heard you were upset about being auctioned off. I thought I’d help out.”

“Oh,” you managed, heat creeping into your cheeks in surprise and a bit of shame. “You really didn’t have to do that. Honestly, you could be anywhere else, doing something better with your time.”

She gave a light shrug, dismissing the thought. “I wanted to be here. And you're under no obligation—it’s your time.”

“That was a lot of money, Wanda.”

She flashed a small, knowing smile. “We get paid pretty well, and we live rent-free in a state-of-the-art facility with more food than we know what to do with. Honestly, I don’t know where to put all that money.”

You couldn't help but whistle at her extravagant dilemma about where to spend her money.

“Some of mine went here,” you mentioned, beginning to tidy up. You picked up Wanda’s hotdog box, then yours, and slipped them back into the paper bag they came in.

“Here?”

“This is, uh, my apartment in the city,” you admitted, feeling a bit sheepish about the modest surroundings. It wasn't much to look at—barely furnished since you hardly spent a night here. But it was nice to have a fallback, a place where you could imagine being just another average citizen, cooking dinner and passing out on the sofa to late-night TV. Not that you've actually done that here, but, you know, the possibility's always there.

“Oh,” Wanda breathed, her eyes going wide—and you hadn’t thought it was possible for them to be more disarming than they already were. “I—I didn’t realize. Sorry for intruding—”

“I invited you,” you pointed out, your grin turning amused at her reaction. It was nice to see her a little off-balance. Her gaze met yours, and there was something in her eyes that made you a bit nervous. Usually, you weren't easily thrown off by pretty women, but Wanda was different. She wasn't like anyone you'd ever met.

“It's getting a bit chilly,” she noted after a while, rubbing her arms lightly.

“Would you like to come inside?” you offered. “I can lend you something warmer.”

It didn’t take Wanda another second to accept. “Yes, please.”

“Come on,” you said, leading her to your bedroom. Opening a drawer, you pulled out a pair of soft pajama pants and a cozy sweater. “These should fit well enough. The bathroom is just through that door.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the clothes. She headed into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

You grabbed a t-shirt and some comfortable boxers for yourself, beginning to change in your bedroom. As you pulled your shirt over your head, your eyes accidentally darted towards the bathroom. Through the partially open door, you inadvertently glimpsed Wanda from behind as she changed. Her back was turned, revealing a black lace bra as she slipped out of her dress.

You swallowed hard and quickly turned your eyes away, focusing on getting dressed as quickly as you could. You yanked your shirt down and shimmied into your shorts, trying to shake the image from your mind.

Moments later, Wanda stepped out dressed in your clothes, the sleeves of the sweater hanging slightly past her wrists. The outfit was a bit oversized but looked comfortable on her.

“These are perfect,” she said with a grateful smile. Noticing your flustered expression, she tilted her head. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you stammered.

She gave you a curious look but didn't press the matter. Glancing at your attire, she commented, “Won't you be cold dressed like that?”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, I'll be fine. I tend to get hot,” you replied, then realized the double meaning of your words. Your face grew warmer. “I mean, I warm up easily.”

Wanda smirked and didn’t bother to be subtle about it. “Good to know.”

You grabbed a pillow from your bed and tucked it under your arm. “Well, I guess I'll let you get some rest,” you said, heading toward the door.

“Wait,” Wanda called after you. “You're not sleeping on the sofa, are you?”

You looked up, surprised. “I was actually planning to catch up on some reading.”

She sighed, giving in. “Fine, if you're sure.”

“I'm sure,” you said, fluffing the pillow.

She smiled softly. “Goodnight, then.”

“Night, Wanda,” you replied. After a moment's pause, you added, “And... thanks again for tonight.”

She lingered in the doorway of the bedroom and nodded at you with a smile.

Before she could slip away, you called out, “Hey, wanna train together tomorrow?”

Her face lit up. “Looking forward to it.”

—

It wasn’t that your bed was uncomfortable. Far from it, actually. The mattress was firm but not too firm, the pillows soft enough to cradle her head. By all accounts, Wanda should’ve been fast asleep. But she wasn’t. Everything about the bed—about the room—was a distraction.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how the sheets had probably wrapped around your skin countless times, how your scent lingered faintly in the fabric no matter how often they’d been washed. She wondered what position you usually slept in. Did you curl up on your side, clutching a pillow? Did you sprawl across the bed, limbs outstretched in different directions? The thoughts were small, trivial, and maddeningly persistent.

No matter how many times she turned over, pulled the blanket tighter, or closed her eyes, her mind wouldn’t shut off. So, when she tossed and turned for what felt like the hundredth time, Wanda decided she wasn’t going to just lie there, restless and alone, while you were only a few feet away.

Wanda eased the door open, careful to make as little noise as possible, though the faint creak still gave her away. You were there, of course, exactly where she thought you’d be, sitting on the sofa with a book in your lap. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated your face, and Wanda’s breath hitched when she noticed the glasses perched on your nose.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, glancing up from the page but keeping your finger tucked between the chapters as a placeholder.

There was something about you at this hour, something Wanda couldn’t quite put her finger on. It wasn’t just the glasses or the book or the way the light softened the sharp lines of your face. You seemed different. More laid-back. Almost mellow. Wanda decided this was one of her favorite versions of you.

“Can’t sleep,” she murmured, fiddling with the rings on her fingers—a nervous habit she couldn’t quite kick.

Wanda bit her lip as you slid your glasses off and set them on the side table. It was endearing to think it was because you were giving her your full attention. You tapped the cushion next to you.

She obliged. The sofa dipped slightly under her weight, and she sat close enough for your shoulders to almost touch but left just enough distance to not assume too much. Wanda’s fingers stopped fidgeting, her hands resting in her lap as she glanced at the book you’d set aside.

“What were you reading?” she asked.

You smiled slightly, reaching for the book and turning it so she could see the cover. It wasn’t anything grand—just a worn paperback with creased pages and a faded title. That’s when Wanda’s gaze wandered to the shelves behind you, packed tight with books, some even spilling over into piles on the floor. Hardcovers, paperbacks, thick, ancient volumes that looked like they belonged in a library—

You weren’t just an ordinary reader.

“Didn’t take you for a… what’s that phrase you Americans use for someone who’s obsessed with reading?” Wanda asked, a light laugh escaping her lips.

“Bookworm,” you replied, grinning.

“Yeah—that.”

You chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Maximoff.”

The way you said her name sent a small shiver down her spine, but she hid it well, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked away for a moment. You weren’t sure if it was because it was late and your defenses were worn thin, or because the edges of exhaustion blurred your better judgment after spending the entire night nose-deep in your book. But something compelled you to speak to her.

Not small talk. Not another shallow exchange to fill the silence. No, you wanted to talk to her, really talk to her. About things that mattered, like how she was actually doing—not just the perfunctory “I’m fine” you’d heard her mutter too many times before. About how she was settling in at the compound, surrounded by strangers who were supposed to be her teammates but often felt like little more than colleagues. About what it felt like to start over in a new country, surrounded by a language and culture that weren’t hers.

About how she was coping without Pietro.

You wondered if anyone had asked her these things before—apart from Vision, maybe. And even then, you could imagine what those conversations might have been like. Vision was earnest, but earnestness only went so far. He probably asked like a child would, curious but detached.

“So, uhm,” you cleared your throat, pulling up your knees to hug them in front of your chest. “How—How have you been holding up?”

It took her a moment to respond, and for a second, you wondered if you’d overstepped, if she didn’t like being asked in the first place. But instead, she tilted her head slightly, studying you like she wasn’t sure if you were serious.

“Why do you ask?” she said finally, her accent curling softly around the words.

You hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of how vulnerable the question made you feel. You weren’t used to this—to reaching out, to asking someone else to open up. But it was too late to backtrack now, so you shrugged, feigning casualness you didn’t feel. “Just thought… it’s been a lot. For you, I mean. New country, new team, new life.” You paused, glancing away. “It can’t be easy.”

Wanda let out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s putting it lightly.”

You didn’t reply immediately, giving her the opportunity to say more if she wanted to. When the silence stretched on, you pressed gently. “So? How are you holding up?”

She exhaled, a long, tired sound. “I’m... fine,” she said.

“That’s not an answer,” you said. “And you don’t have to give me one if you don’t want to. I just thought... maybe you’d want to talk.”

Wanda looked at you again as if trying to gauge whether you meant it. Whether you really meant that you cared.

“You’re asking me this now?” she said.

“Seemed like as good a time as any.”

Her lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite—and she looked away again. “I don’t think anyone’s really asked me that,” she whispered after a moment. “Not like you just did.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“It’s... hard,” she said, slow and careful. “Being here. With all of you. Everyone’s been... kind. But I can tell most of them don’t trust me.”

“They’ll come around,” you said, though you knew it wasn’t a guarantee. You knew better than anyone how slow trust could be, how much it took to earn it in a place like this. After all, it had taken you ages to come around yourself—ages of Wanda wearing you down in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first, of her saving your life and an embarrassing predicament.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice distant. She twisted the hem of her sweater between her fingers, her eyes focused on the floor.

“And Pietro?” you asked softly, almost afraid of the question.

“I think about him every day,” she said quietly. “About what he’d say if he were here. What he’d do. Sometimes, I swear I can still hear him in my head—his voice, the things he used to tell me. But then I catch myself trying to shush it, like I’m afraid I’ll get stuck there. In that space. I know it sounds crazy—”

“It’s not,” you cut in too quickly, but you meant them. Whatever grief looked like for her, it wasn’t something you had the right to call crazy.

She turned to you then, a small, rueful smile that felt like hope when her eyes couldn’t pretend she was grieving hard. It was the kind of smile that said she appreciated your words, even though you both knew they weren’t entirely true. You weren’t sure if she believed you or if she just wanted to believe you, but either way, she nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Sometimes,” she continued after a long pause, “I wonder if it would’ve been easier to go with him.”

You swallowed, the ache in her voice pulling something loose in you. You didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to make it about you—but that feeling hit too close to home.

“I used to think that way, too,” you said quietly.

Wanda turned to look at you, surprised. She didn’t interrupt, though. She waited.

You rubbed a hand over your face, buying yourself a second to organize the thoughts you’d buried for so long. “I’m not saying it to compare,” you added, voice tight. “I just... I know what it’s like.”

“My dad died when I was a kid,” you said, keeping your voice light, like saying it matter-of-factly would dull the edges of it. “I barely remember him. Just flashes—his laugh, his cologne, stuff like that. But my mom... she hated me long before he was gone. She blamed me for everything. Especially for my twin not making it.”

Wanda stiffened beside you, but still, she said nothing.

“She blamed me,” you continued, the memories clawing their way back to the surface. “Said I killed him before he ever had a chance. And she never let me forget it. Never let me forget that it should’ve been me who didn’t make it.”

Wanda finally looked up, her eyes glistening, red-rimmed with tears she refused to let fall. You didn’t have the same strength. A single tear slipped down your cheek, hot and heavy.

“And for the longest time, I believed her. I thought she was right. I thought it would’ve been better if I hadn’t made it,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

You shook your head. “Don’t be. And it’s not like… it’s not like I think that way all the time anymore. But I get it. That feeling like maybe you weren’t supposed to be here, like someone else deserved it more. I know what it feels like.”

Wanda's gaze dropped to your hands that were still gripping your knee like a lifeline. She looked like she wanted to reach out and grasp them, but you weren’t ready for that kind of intimacy. You were barely keeping yourself together, and the thought of her touch, however comforting, might be the thing to break you.

“I didn’t know,” she said softly. “About your twin. About your mom. If this... if this was the nightmare I gave you in—”

“No reason you would,” you interrupted, cutting her off before she could finish, before she could drag Johannesburg, and the bitter, consuming hatred you’d felt for her then, into the room. You’ve forgiven her for that, and it was best that it stayed forgotten too. “It’s not exactly a conversation starter.”

She huffed a quiet, almost bitter laugh, but it faded quickly. “Still,” she said, hesitating, “I think… I think you were meant to be here. I don’t know why, but I do. I think there’s a reason.”

You swallowed dryly. “Maybe there’s a reason for you, too.”

Wanda looked hopeful. “Maybe,” she echoed.

Wanda’s shoulder pressed into yours, solid and warm, like she was holding you in place without even realizing it. Neither of you spoke, the silence stretching out just long enough for it to feel safe. Safe to sit here with the mess between you, around you, part of you.

The words she’d said—I think you were meant to be here—kept looping in your head, circling around all the things you’d told yourself for years. All the things you still believed. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be here, but in that moment, you weren’t sure it mattered.

Because she was here. And maybe that was enough.

178 notes · View notes

denwritesandcries · 7 months ago

Text

Later we'll fall because of this – H.C

Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you're falling deep and deep in it and you don't know what to do.

Word count: 5,5k.

Content: cursing, fake dating, kisses, pining, slightly angst, miscommunication, unhealthy situationships, mentions of blood, hazel sends mixed signs (unknowingly), reader is a LOSER, insecure!hazel, flirting, dumb teenagers.

Note: This shouldn't have taken so long since I had all the story planned already, but august was just… crazy, jesus. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy and thanks for being so patient and supportive with this small series, it really means the world to me.

English is not my first language.

You barely register what happens through the rest of the night, returning home with your head completely flustreaded and your heart pounding in your throat, a goldfish in a fragile plastic bag on your shaking hands and a single text from Isabel when you finally fall into bed.

[josie told me what happened

you're welcome btw]

Well, fuck.

Maybe you should have considered what it actually meant to get in a relationship with Hazel, especially a fake one, before you said yes, because now you’re standing outside the school, nervously clutching the straps of your backpack and not having the courage to go in and face what’s to come.

Still, you do it, because Hazel asked to meet you at your locker before classes started and ignoring her now would just be rude – as if you could ignore her in the first place – so you put your head up and walk down the halls feeling like everyone is staring at you.

And she’s waiting just like she said she would, swaying from foot to foot and seemingly searching for something in the crowd of students. The ear-to-ear grin Hazel gives you when she sees you coming makes your anxiety ease a little.

You greet her a little hesitantly, it’s not like you’ve spoken much since the fair, so you’re not sure how to avoid making things awkward.

Apparently, neither does she, “Hi!” Hazel answers, a little too loudly, before cringing and looking around, as if at any second someone might come along and expose the lie you’re about to tell. Clearing her throat, she starts again, “So, I just wanted to know if it’s okay for me to start walking you between periods now, or— or maybe give you a ride after school, I mean, I know that you usually take the bus but,” Hazel begins to ramble, “I thought that would be more convincing, since, you know, that’s what couples do and—”

“Haze, it's okay,” you interrupt, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder instinctively, brushing some lint off the hodie she's wearing to keep yourself from overthinking it, “Yes. For both things. It's not like we've never done that before, right?”

“...Right,” she looks down at your hand where it's rubbing circles on her shoulder, blinking in realization, “You're right!” she groans, “We already do all this stuff, how are people going to buy it if nothing changes between us? How will PJ?” You try to hold grimacing at the mention and Hazel rests her hands in her head in panic, “Fuck. We should've planned this before we got here, I'm a terrible liar.”

You really should have and she really is a terrible liar. Great, now you're getting nervous too. That's what happens when two anxious teenagers decide to do something on impulse. Just great.

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, someone has to take charge here, “Why don’t we just play along today without elaborating on anything for everyone? Then when class is over we can go to my place and plan everything properly together.”

Hazel relaxes a little at your words and nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sounds good,” she clears her throat, “So, I guess we’ll just have to wing it for today then.”

“It was your idea, sweetheart,” you shrug, “We’ll get through this day.”

The first bell rings and Hazel takes on a determined expression, nodding, she turns, gently taking the bag hanging from your shoulder and placing it next to hers, ignoring your confused look to extend a hand to you, “C’mon, we better not be late this time.”

And you go.

It takes a moment for you to absorb the gasps of excitement and surprise that come when you and Hazel enter Mr. G’s class, too busy cataloging the way her hand feels in yours to pay any real attention to your surroundings. Hazel’s hand is cold and a little damp from flutter, you can perfectly feel the outline of the loose rings on your intertwined fingers and it feels simply perfect. It’s different then other times you’ve held hands, as if she wanted to transmite another kind of feeling. As if she wanted to show it off.

Hazel’s voice sounding close to your ear brings you back into the moment, she squeezes your hands together with an excited whisper: “I think it’s gonna work, she’s already looking at us.”

And sure enough, there’s PJ when you look up, sitting on the edge of the seat with her gaze burning into your hands, Josie watching the scene next to her with a raised eyebrow.

There’s also Sylvie and Annie, a bit perplexed but still cheering from their seats, not giving a damn about the students they don’t know coming into the room to actually try to study.

“What is that?” Sylvie slaps her hands on the table excitedly as you sit next to her and Hazel hands you your backpack, “You guys are a thing now? Dude, that’s awesome!”

“So you did listen to me,” Annie nods to Hazel in approval, “I told you that it had better options. Good job, Haze.”

Hazel lets out an awkward laugh, accepting the teasing with a red face and you stand there, shy and a little confused. You didn’t expect them to react so… genuinely happy, as if you hadn’t all been talking about her liking someone else just a few days ago, in fact, you expected a barrage of questions and suspicious looks. Well, who knows, maybe luck was just on your side with that.

(You kick Jeff's chair hard when the teacher isn't looking as you hear him laughing with his stupid friends about "the freak finally getting a girlfriend", giving Hazel an innocent smile when she turns around with a questioning look at the noise.)

The day passed peacefully, with Hazel walking you to every period, rushing to carry your bag and open doors for you, smiling brightly at your nods of approval and making sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.

It was really sweet to have someone do that for you, to try so hard. It made you feel like a schoolgirl in love and sighing in the hallways – which, for what it’s worth, you were – a warm, timid feeling filling your chest every time she came into view. During lunch she put an arm around you, happily chatting with everyone, taking your hand to play with your fingers once PJ was there too. You almost managed to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth and enjoy it fully – almost.

Now you were both leaving, absently commenting on the reactions you had elicited and you're thinking about what topics to cover when you get home to discuss and match stories, you had to make sure you were on the same page.

“Psst,” Hazel calls as you reach her car, opening the passenger door for you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting in.

You frown at her upset expression, following her gaze to find the scene she’s staring at the other side of the parking lot.

“Oh,” it’s Josie, Isabel, Brittany, and PJ, of course, but this time with a new addition. The cheerleader Hazel mentioned before, clinging to the arm of a very pleased-looking PJ, “Shit, I’m sorry, Haze.”

Her lips press into a thin line and you feel a pang in your chest at how uncomfortable she is about this, but you can’t say anything because Brittany spots you and waves goodbye as she walks to her own car. And now all of your friends have seen you both too.

“They’re looking,” Hazel mumbles. She seems closer, even though you haven’t heard her approach. Her hand is still holding the door, she's almost leaning over your body.

“I've noticed,” you whisper back. You don't know why your voice suddenly got low, a shiver runs down your spine as you feel her touch moving up your arm.

Hazel leans in even closer, her breath is warm against your face. You gulp.

“She's looking.”

Maybe it was pretty naive, or stupid, that you started dating someone – whether it was fake or not – with the intention of showing it off and not having considered for a second that you would kiss that person, like, actually kiss them. It was just a small detail that your mind chose to so carefully ignore for the sake of your sanity. And that you shouldn't freak out about it, since in theory you've done this before. Still, here you are.

Hazel gets impossibly closer, bringing the hand running down your arm gently to rest on your cheek and you melt in the roughness of her touch, feeling the cold on your warm skin. Your breath hitches as Hazel looks deeply at you, searching for something that she seems to find when you close your eyes in anticipation.

It's all a matter of seconds, but time seems to freeze in the most cliché way when Hazel's lips meet yours for the first time. Her mouth feels warm and soft, a few strands of hair falling through her forehead tickle your face and you can't believe this is real. You swear your heart could explode at any moment with how fast it's beating and it would be totally worth dying for the way you feel right now.

And then when you sigh, about to put a hand on her waist to deepen the kiss, the moment is over and Hazel is pulling away with a little smirk to the driver's side.

You hear Isabel clapping her hands provocatively in the background, but you're too mortified to react in any way other than shakily getting into the car.

What are you doing with your life?

You’re pulled out of your reverie when Hazel stops at a red light, having been silent for most of the short drive, head leaning against the window.

“I’m sorry,” she clears her throat hastily and you look up in confusion, “I— I should’ve asked before kissing you like that. We haven’t talked about this yet, if it was okay or not and I keep doing things without telling you about it. I’m scared I might have crossed the line now ‘cause you still haven’t said a word about it.”

Hazel thinks you’re mad at her. That calm, intense demeanor she seemed to have assumed for a moment is nowhere to be found and you notice the way her hands nervously grip the steering wheel, doing everything she can to keep from looking at you directly. Hazel thinks you’re mad at her, when in fact it couldn’t be more opposed to it.

It’s just that you can’t stop thinking about the kiss. The feeling of her lips lingers on yours like a ghostly touch as the scene replays in your mind over and over.

And you’re bubbling inside. It’s a new thing you never seriously believed you’d share with her one day. In your most vulnerable moments, you knew your fantasies about kissing Hazel were nothing more than that. The real thing, however, was different than what you imagined. All-consuming, completely addictive, and it left you shocked, disturbed.

Because you wanted more.

How could you experience having all of this only for reality to knock on your door and you realize it wouldn’t be for as long as you wanted? You wondered how it would end after this.

You were fucked.

“No! I'm not mad at you!” You exclaim, trying not to turn into a mess, “You didn't cross any line. It's just that, uhm…” your body seems to heat up from your face to your chest in embarrassment. How do you tell someone you just had your first kiss when it all happened like it was nothing? “It was sudden and I… well— I've never kissed anyone before that.”

You said the wrong thing.

“What?”

“Haze.”

Hazel seems to freeze for a moment, eyes wild and nostrils flaring, the exact expression of someone who is about to freak out. Her face turns evidently red.

“What?”

You rush to stop the spiral she's in: “Haze, it's okay. It's no big deal, seriously.”

“I— I stole your first kiss?” She's completely panicked now, “Oh my god, Y/N, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don’t know how to tell her that apologies only make you feel bad, that you wish it wasn’t a regret for her, because after all it wasn’t one for you.

“Sweetheart, please,” you try again, instinctively placing your hand on her arm, “It’s alright. It was good, I can’t think of anyone else who would have treated me so gently like that. And you didn’t know, okay? It wasn’t on purpose.”

Hazel gulps, clearly drowned in guilt, her gaze dropping to where your hand is touching her and back to your face, suddenly shy. You pull away as if you’ve been burned, but neither of you can say anything because what feels like the longest red light in history finally turns green and a car behind you honks and swears loudly.

She clears her throat, turning back to driving:

“I still should have asked anyway.”

You snort: “If you had asked me, I still would have said yes.”

“Oh, okay.”

As if you couldn’t make things any more weirder. Great.

Hazel looks flustered and desperate to break out of the tension that’s settled over the car:

“But,” she mumbles in a perplexed tone, “What about that time you and Sylvie got locked in the pantry on Stella’s birthday? I thought…”

Maybe at this point you should just jump out of this moving car and buy a shovel, since you’re so spectacularly good at digging your own grave.

“We promised to never talk about that again.”

“Right.”

You both only speak again once you’re back in your room and you end up snapping with Hazel when all she does is sit on the bed with her eyes stuck on the floor, a whirlwind of thoughts so obvious in her head that you can almost hear them. You end up stuttering something like ‘you said you’d come over so we could talk and now you’re going to spend the whole time in silence?’

Hazel still looks very uneasy, as if she expects you to change your mind and yell at her at any minute, but she relaxes a little when she notices you letting her guide the conversation at her own pace.

You decide to formulate a simple story just in case your friends decide they want details and ask about it. Yes, you’ve just gotten together a couple days ago; Yes, you’ve liked each other for a long time and were just too much of a coward to admit it; No, you haven’t been on your first official date (yet). Basic and realistic, nothing that would raise suspicions or that you could end up messing, because if there was one thing you knew for certain in all this time knowing each other, it was that Hazel was terrible at sustaining acts for long.

Hazel also makes a point of asking you thousands of times what was okay or not in terms of PDA, checking you for any sign of discomfort that might be being omitted – you said that everything was fine, as long as she asked you or gave some sign first, which she swore she would do.

It's only when Hazel is gathering her things to leave that you ask perhaps the most important question about everything, watching her put the bag on her shoulder and push the hair out of her eyes. She looks beautiful.

"How long do you think this will last, Haze?"

She hums, a little uncertain and suddenly thoughtful: "Until it works out, I guess? I think we'll just have to make sure that it happens fast," she licks her lips, "I... I'll make it up to you for this, okay? For all of this.”

You mumble an agreement, staring at her as she says goodbye and walks away.

You feel too anxious to sleep, your heart pounding against your throat irritably as you roll restlessly over the blankets once more. You come across your desk, where the aquarium with your goldfish swims in circles. Poor thing, you should give it a bigger house, maybe with a den to hide in, just like you want to do now.

You can't stop reliving the moments of the day, every second spent with Hazel comes right back to you. Hands holding, gentle acts, soft gazes, the kiss. The goddamn kiss.

You ponder for a long moment if it would be worth it to enjoy what would come next if PJ actually made a move and you had your fake breakup – which would probably hurt like a real one – so that Hazel would be free to move on. Would you be happy for her? You weren't sure.

You weren't sure of much, but just thinking about them being together in the hallways, acting and touching like you just did a few hours ago for the rest of the year until graduation makes you sick. Would you still be as close as you are now? It might be a little awkward being friends with your ex, especially if her current partner kind of hates you already.

Sighing, you reach for your phone on your desk, scrolling through it to find a spam of texts in your group chat with your friends. You snort, of course they wouldn't stay quiet after the parking lot scene, as if they would miss out on gossip like that.

10 unread messages

annie (with an I)

[guys I've heard the gays gave a show in the exit today]

britt-britt

[they did but y/n wont answer any of my texts and its been hoursss

omg do you think they died on the way back??]

annie (with an I)

[what??? no. definitely not]

slaylvie

[oh maybe she's just too busy with her NEW GIRLFRIEND

stealing the girl all to ysf that was such a queen move fr]

isabeautiful

[she's probably just ignoring us britt it's not like she can't read or smth]

britt-britt

[u sure?

oh ur probably right

wait can u read y/n or are you like that one lady from glee]

Y/N silenced the group.

slaylvie

[now that's just fckng rude.]

You definitely won't reply to anything after this long and chaotic day, especially not about the subject you want to get off your mind, instead, you huff and open the private chat with Isabel after seeing the proud text she sent earlier.

[you've planned all of this since the beginning, didn't you?]

She replies in the next second:

[you only realized it now?]

Hazel keeps her promise of what she said about making it up to you and the next few weeks are uneventful. It’s almost natural how your routine adapts quickly to the new things.

Holding hands in the hallways, sticky notes with sweet words stuck on your locker, good morning and good night texts, arms around each other when you sit down at lunch or at the club, kisses – even though they don’t happen as often as you would like – Isabel even manages to convince you to go on a double date soon and even though Hazel makes a point of touching you or talking loudly about your plans whenever PJ’s around, she doesn’t whine about it to you anymore, which strangely feels like a victory.

A very short-lived victory, since you end up with a chapped lip because of it.

You honestly hadn’t seen it coming. It was just another afternoon of club practice, your meetings had been cut short for a while – the school had to punish you somehow after Huntington – and you’d finally gotten back into the swing of things with the fighting and the exercises and no one had gotten hurt besides a few bruises on their wrists.

Until PJ declared that she would be your partner.

You’d noticed how she’d been acting lately, responding to everyone in her typical passive-aggressive way and glaring at you with a sour expression whenever Hazel was around and finding excuses to touch her whenever possible, a result of all your displays of affection and the gossiping your friends were sure to do when you weren’t hearing.

You thought Hazel would be pleased with this since it was a sign that the plan was working, but she seemed oddly uncomfortable, bringing up the subject less and less. In fact, you’re pretty sure there was once or twice when she simply took your hand and led you somewhere else.

Maybe that gave your stupid heart the false hope you tried so hard not to cling to and made you sigh even more lovingly when you laid eyes on her and it's likely that you weren't the only one who noticed it.

That could explain PJ's loud steps approaching with her fists clenched at her sides as you, Isabel and Hazel tried to reach a consensus on which ice cream shop to go to next weekend, waiting for Josie to finish her round from where she was furthest away to vote too, and it explains her insistence even after you lied and said you had already agreed to go against Annie later – which was also a bad idea, that girl knows how to do more than just throw a few punches.

She didn't take no for an answer and even Hazel seemed hesitant to let you go, pulling you close and trying to convince PJ that maybe it would be better if she went to help some new members with their moves. It didn't work, of course, but the concern in her voice melted your heart a little.

So you've ended up in a circle with your teammates cheering loudly and the first punch that hits you makes your head snap to side with a loud crack, your gaze falling on Mr. G, engrossed in his phone at the back of the court.

Well, you think, at least your funeral won't happen without the supervision of a – partially – responsible adult.

You hit back just as hard as she did, but you end up lying on your back on the mat in pain anyway, listening to your teammates, oblivious to the tension, congratulate PJ on her easy win. Damn, she really took all her amassed anger out on you.

“Are you okay?” Hazel’s worried face fills your vision and you groan as she gently pulls you to sit up, cupping your face gently, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll live,” you joke, but she doesn’t seem to find it funny, tilting your chin up to inspect it better, lips pressed into a thin line.

Suddenly, you saw PJ approaching with an expression that failed to not look proudly – if the little smirk on the corner of her mouth said anything – even with the bruises forming that you left on her, she leaned over and patted Hazel on the shoulder, making a provocative comment that you didn't bother to pay attention to, as if she expected Hazel to congratulate her too and that was enough for her expression to change completely. Her forehead furrowed, her nose twitched in disbelief and you could feel the way her hands shook a little with pent-up anger where they descended to your shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Both you and PJ widened eyes, not expecting the explicit bite in her voice. It was unbelievable that Hazel would be rude to anyone, much less to the shocked girl in front of her.

PJ didn’t seem to really understand why there would be anything wrong with what she just did and that almost made you feel bad for her, but anyone should know better than to tease a stressed-out Hazel.

She coughs, clearly embarrassed:

“Jeez! You never know how to take a joke,” she holds up her hands in placation, looking indignant, before fixing her eyes on you, “We were just playing, it was fun, right?”

If you were less petty, maybe you would have nodded and moved on for the sake of your crush’s potential dream relationship but honestly? It’s hard to give a fuck about any of those things when you think about how swollen and bruised your face will be on the day you’re supposed to have the closest thing to a cliché, cute date before graduation.

“For you, maybe.”

She rolls her eyes and looks like she wants to say something else, but Josie comes over and quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders, apologizing and dragging her away to avoid any further discussion with a grimace on her face. It’s only then that you notice the curious looks of your friends at the scene.

Hazel takes a deep breath, biting her lip nervously and looking suddenly embarrassed, before moving to help you up.

“C’mon,” she clears her throat, “Let’s take care of you.”

Hazel is upset.

She hadn’t been quiet for a single second the entire time you’d arrived at the infirmary, having spent the entire journey there mumbling incoherently. Now she had one hand firmly resting on your knee on the stretcher she’d insisted you take, while the tired-looking nurse tried to explain that none of your injuries were serious enough for anything more than bandages and an ice pack – which you’d already tried to tell Hazel, but to no avail.

“Are you sure she’s okay?” she asked for the millionth time, and you could practically feel the effort the nurse was making not to sigh.

“Yes.” She replied, pulling a box of kids' band-aids from her uniform pocket to give it to you, “She didn’t hit her head when she fell, did she? So all you have to do is clean up the blood and wait for the cuts to heal.”

“Okay, hm-hm,” Hazel nods quickly, effectively dismissing the nurse, “I can do that.”

This time the nurse does sigh and give up, mumbling about not getting paid enough before leaving the room – definitely to get a moment away from the annoying teenagers she's seeing all day – and then you’re alone.

Hazel finally goes quiet and her face scrunches up in concentration as she grabs a damp cloth so she can wipe away the red staining of your face and something twists in your stomach.

She hasn’t spoken directly to you since you left and something twists in your stomach at that.

She’s mad at me, you think.

It was obvious that you couldn’t control yourself, painfully obvious that something was going to happen and that you were going to ruin everything because of your temper and your inability to keep your mouth shut. You made this bed, now it’s time to accept the fact that, first, you suck at making beds, and, second, you have to lie in it. Both figuratively and literally. Well, it's a stretcher, but still.

“I'm sorry, Haze,” you say regretfully, holding her hands working on your face in place so she stops and turns her attention back to you.

“Hm?” She lifts her head looking surprised, as if only then remembering you were there too, “For what?”

You look away embarrassed, biting the inside of your cheek: “I didn't mean to ruin things with PJ back there, I know that she was finally doing something and…”

“Wait,” her eyes widened, “Wait, wait, wait, you think I'm mad at you?”

You blink, hesitant: “You're not?”

“No, of course not!” Hazel grabs your shoulders frantically, “You just got beat up, why would I be mad at you?”

You shrug wordlessly, feeling a weird sensation of a deja-vú and Hazel releases you to rest her hands on the stretcher in exasperation.

“Oh, man,” she sighs. “I'm angry with PJ for what she did and I'm angry at myself for letting it happen.”

“But… I thought you'd like that she got jealous,” you fidget, confused, “She finally made a move, right?”

“Not like that! How would I be happy with her getting so possessive that she decided to take it as an excuse to hit you?” Hazel asks incredulously, looking at you like she's tired of even thinking about it, “That was completely out of line, this is not a PG13 gay version of After.”

You freeze for a second before bursting into laughter, ignoring the burning sensation on your lip that the action causes, and Hazel sits down next to you, seemingly satisfied that she’s wiped the worry from your face.

“Ugh, I don’t know,” she groans, running a hand through her hair looking lost.

“Don’t know what, sweetheart?” you turn to her, shoulders touching.

Hazel shakes her head as if trying to push away the thoughts that are bothering her, busying herself by opening one of the bandages for you:

“If I still want this,” she starts hesitantly, “I thought I wouldn’t mind if she kept being mean to me every now and then as long as she showed me that she liked me more, but I— I don’t want that to happen if it’s hurting you. I don’t want to be with someone who would hurt you.”

Your throat is dry. Hazel looks up to catch your eye and places the bandage on a cut on your chin, her hand stays there and you can hear your heart pounding against your ears.

Does she mean…? You're breathing fast, her face is so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. This has to be a dream or some kind of bad joke, maybe you did hit your head and are in a coma right now. You swear everything is in slow motion and there's a cheesy song playing deep inside of your mind. God, if only you hadn't fallen so hard.

You think back to all the moments you've shared so far, years and years of touching and spending time together, learning details about each other and trying to think of the part you missed when Hazel started looking at you like that, does she even know she's doing it? You think, searching deep in your memories, how could you miss that?

Maybe it was earlier this week, when she came up to you happily skipping and handed you a paper flower with the utmost pride she could muster that she had made it herself, because 'You said you always wanted to receive flowers, but you didn't say what kind, so I made you a special one.’

Or days ago, when she started leaving silly little notes stuck to your stuff, even though you saw her all the time; ‘see u later!’ in messy handwriting, ‘have a good day’ scrawled with a cartoon taped to the cover of your math notebook, ‘i'll be thinking of u’ on the locker door she just left you in, a stupid pun written in neon marker just because.

Was it before that? When she kissed you then? Before? Long before?

“Haze,” you call.

When did the possibility of her loving you become real?

“I thought I wanted it,” Hazel murmurs, “But I'm not sure anymore.”

She's going to kiss you. There's no one around now and she's going to kiss you because she wants it, not to show off. And you want it too, more than anything.

You move your hand to find purchase on her chest, grabbing a fistful of the shirt she's wearing. Your noses are brushing now, Hazel’s eyes narrow and you can almost taste her.

Then the nurse walks into the room, dropping the papers she was carrying when she sees the scene and the moment is completely lost.

She shoos you both out of the room, no matter how many stammered excuses you try to give her and you and Hazel trade shocked looks alone in the hallway before laughing as hard as you never did. The sound fills your ears, it’s completely divine. You laugh and laugh and laugh and you’ve never felt so happy, feeling your stomach flutter with butterflies when you feel her hand brush against yours, that she’s still here.

The laughter stops as it steals your breath – it wasn’t the only thing that stole it – and you feel cold where your skin was warm just a second ago, turning your head to find her a few feet away from you.

“Are you alright?” You ask, smiling, feeling light, as if you weighed the same as the paper flower stored in your bag.

She stares at you, hair messy, face red, clothes wrinkled and eyes full of emotion that you can't distinguish with how quickly they pass. You wonder what she's gonna do, if she's going to press you against the wall and kiss you here in this hallway like she wanted before, if she's going to take your hands and tell you that she wasn't sure about things, but wanted to find out with you. Another emotion flashes in her eyes as she takes another step back, the only one you can recognize: regret.

Hazel turns and runs away from there. She leaves.

Luck has been on your side for a long time during all of this, so of course at some point everything would end up going wrong. And you, of course, would end up in the crossfire.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #bottoms x reader #bottoms hazel #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you #hazel bottoms #denwrites

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dawndelion-winery · 1 year ago

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L for Loser Lover

They're not normally this...pathetic. Really, it's just the way love brings out the worst in people

Ft. Alhaitham, Childe, Scaramouche (Wanderer)

Alhaitham:

Cold, curt, and ever on top of things, he's not exactly what anyone would picture when asked to imagine a doting lover

For someone who knew over twenty languages, he sure didn't have a clue on how to use any of them

At least, that's how people would think his love life would go

So just what was that flower crown of woven roses doing atop his head?

And the funky chicken looking thing sewn onto his handkerchief???

"It's not a chicken, it's an eagle. My lover embroidered it for me earlier this year on Valentine's Day."

Wow, he sure sounded proud of that

Was that a ghost of a smile on his lips? A faint giggle?

Dear archons the world must be ending

Childe:

Puppy love! Except it's more of an orange cat

Now, he wouldn't scream for attention

Actually, he just might

He's beating up some abyssal beast and suddenly he's pausing to shout for you

Y'know, just in case you weren't watching how cool he was

Some vicious weapon of war he is, slashing away at rifthounds and vishaps alike with that manic emptiness in his eyes

Which glints with a brief sparkle of excitement when he calls your name

He's disgustingly whipped and he can't even be insulted for it

Just try and point out how his eyes only light up when he talks about you, the softness in his features akin to the expression he makes when speaking of his family

"Maybe you're just seeing yourself in my eyes...you're the light of my life, after all."

Scaramouche:

Emotional constipation atop the urge to adore you isn't a good look on him

He's so clearly trying to seem unaffected by you and it's even clearer that it isn't working

You're so lovely to him it's actually disgusting and he wants to throw up

Stunning, breathtaking, spectacular, gorgeous...they don't even begin to describe you, and he starts to hate it

What do you mean you don't understand what he means when he says he can't really call you winsome or ravishing?

It's annoying to him beyond belief

"Can you sum up a sunrise with a simple "It's bewitching"? Beguiling doesn't even begin to explain the hold you have on me. Your stupid face...I don't want to look at anyone or anything else if it were an option. Your pulchritude has no comparison...so much so that even if I wanted to like it to anything to help you understand, it can't..."

Yeah, no, he's not elaborating beyond that

If you've gotten him riled up to the point of that sort of monologue...chances are you've lost your pet name privileges for at least a week

Expect terms of endearment to be replaced by "dumbass" or "idiot"

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade

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flamingpudding · 1 year ago

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Fictober23 Prompt: 7 - "Do you recognise this?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: G

Warnings: -

"So, who did it?" Bruce asked, eyes narrowed at the children before him. Clark was next to him trying once more to persuade Bruce that it was unnecessary to go after the kids like this.

The 'kids' in question were the assembly of three of his children, Clark's child and clone and a couple of their respected friends.

"Father, I do not know what you are talking about." Damian piped up offended and crossed his arms. Next to him Jon scratched the back of his head in mild confusion and Dani despite not knowing what was going on but still glaring in defiance at Bruce.

"If this is about our prank war it was definitely not necessary to interrogate our friends too." Tim added looking every bit like he would be somewhere else than here. Kon and Bart were with him. Kon looked rather unsure while Bart had gone and gotten himself popcorn for whatever was going to happen.

"Look old man, how was I supposed to know Replacement would trigger the glitter bomb inside the Batmobile. I already cleaned that up!" Jason put in his two cents, Roy eyeing the other with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce stared at them quietly, not saying a word as Clark continued to fuss next to him to not make it a big deal and that a deep clean would surely fix everything.

"It's not your prank war I am talking about. Alfred will deal with you about the chaos you caused." The three respected batkids swallowed audibly while their friends chuckled. "No, what I am asking is which one of you decided it was a good idea to dye Clark's hero suit and my cape pink."

"Wait, someone actually did that to Dad?!" Jon piped up wide eyed as Dani broke out laughing causing Damian to eye the ghost girl with narrowed eyes and suspicion.

"Who would…" Tim started but didn't finish as his mind came up with possible suspects. Kon on Bart next to him went onto their phones, trying to search up pictures of Superman in a pink hero suit.

Jason and Roy broke out laughing too, voicing their respect to whoever managed to do that.

Bruce's eye twitch at the children's reaction. He then proceeded to pull out an opened can of pink dye and placed it on the table in perfect view of everyone. "Do you recognise this? Jason? Tim?"

"WHY ME?!" They both cried out in protest and Bruce narrowed his eyes on the two. "Jason, your last prank on Tim involved a glitter bomb with pink dye, the Batmobile's seats are still strained pink. Tim, you dyed Damian's shirts pink a couple days ago at the beginning of your prank war."

"So it was you Drake! You are going to pay for this!"

"And I will do it again if you ever touch my laptop again, Demon Brat!"

"How does that even prove that one of us did it!"

"It doesn't!"

"Do you think there might be someone else that fell victim to the pink dye in the JL?"

"Maybe?"

"Why would someone even go after Clark? He has nothing to do with our prank war."

"Jason, my friend. You are indirectly admitting that you would dye Batman's cape pink."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as the children before him (he ignored that at least two of them were over 20, they were children period) started to argue among themselves while Damian's newest friend the Daughter of Phantom, who recently joined the Justice League Dark, was by now rolling on the ground laughing.

Not far from the interrogation Danny sat by a table next to Alfred snacking on some of the best cookies he had ever gotten to eat. He had originally come by to hang out with Tim, Kon and Bart but now he was threaded to some A+ entertainment, Dani was clearly enjoying.

"You recognize the can, don't you Mr. Daniel? I believe you accidentally left it behind in the cave." Danny side eyed the butler next to him and grinned into his next bite of a cookie. "Supes deserved it."

The man hummed and Danny smiled as he was offered another cookie. "I believe I know why but would you please elaborate on why Master Bruce also got targeted? I will most likely be the one who will have to wash out the cape."

The half ghost didn't say anything at first before shrugging. "Kon wasn't the only one who deserved some Justice for how he had been treated in the past. I know they get along now but still… a little pay back for past mistreatment wouldn't hurt anyone right?"

"Ah, so it was for Mr. Conner and Master Jason." The butler smiled in understanding, pushing over a box of take away cookies to Danny. "May I suggest that next time you seek out justice for the boy, that there are other -embarrassing- ways to achieve it."

Danny only gave the man a feral grin as he hopped off the chair with the box in hand. It was time to release the children of Bruce's interrogation. He would just put the blame on Constantine somehow, like a spell gone wrong instead of actual dye being the cause. The man owned him anyway since he had gotten most of his soul back aside from a couple of pieces he was still negotiating over in the Ghost Zone.

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o-sachi · 7 months ago

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Kick It! - Heacanons (Var. WinBre)

ᯓ how would the winbre characters react to an s/o that does taekwondo? ᯓ characters; sakura haruka, suo hayato, kaji ren, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, togame jo ᯓ tags; sfw, afab reader, no y/n

Sakura Haruka

"You're cool and all... but let me protect you still..."

He's both impressed and worried about the fact that you can fight.

Of course, he's impressed because you can do the things he does—all that flying and kicking. And even more so since you're his girlfriend.

But he's also worried since you might not need him to protect you anymore. It's so silly but the man just wants to be your knight in shining armor :(

"That kick was pretty good huh?" / "Yeah! It felt good. What's with the long face though?" / "Eh? What do you mean?"

After sparring with him a bit, he comes to terms with it in the end. He can't help but feel a sense of pride watching you move so skillfully.

Although, if you allow yourself to be "protected" every once in a while, he'll appreciate that immensely.

I should add that he's probably not as impressed about the fact that your flexible since he is like that too. To him, it's something normal. He's more fixated on the fact that you can fight.

Suo Hayato

"You got quite a kick there hm? Would be pretty dangerous if I got hit."

Suo practices a martial art himself (Aikido, I believe), so he's quite fond of that similarity between the two of you. He likes that you both have the discipline and determination for it.

He's pretty flexible himself and he achieved that through daily stretches. He'll definitely invite you to do it with him and you can talk about random things as you do.

I'm 100% sure Suo has a big ass house and inside that mansion is a dojo. He'd ask you to come over so that you two can train together and maybe even spar.

"Think you can win against me today, sweet pea?"

He finds it so funny when you try and kick him and all he does is easily evade all of it. Suo would be so cocky—hands behind his back with a silly smile on his face.

But he'll console you and reassure you after that you're good enough as it is. He's just one step ahead of you but that's alright. He insists that he has to be so that he can protect you when the time comes.

Kaji Ren

"You kick like my grandma."

HE IS THE DEFINITION OF TOUGH LOVE. Sure, he's aware you can fight, kick, or whatever. But it's gonna take more than that if you want to hear him compliment you.

He'll make annoying remarks (affectionately, of course). Without knowing it, you're actually pushing yourself to improve even more because you want to earn his approval.

Don't get him wrong though. He is CRAZY proud of you. You don't know it yet, but he brags about you to Kusumi and Enomoto. (Yes, he has threatened them before because they joked about telling you how Kaji would simp).

He's not a dick about it all the time though. He knows when it's too much and when you really can't handle it anymore—he'll comfort you.

"Shhh... you're not bad, okay? Hell, the things I'd give to have someone like you on my team." / "You mean that?" / "Of course I do, angel. Don't be sad, please?"

In sparring, you catch him off-guard a lot because of your flexibility. It allows you to pull off elaborate moves that are quite hard to read.

Umemiya Hajime

"THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND. GO, GIRL. KICK SOME ASS"

NUMBER ONE HYPE MAN! His heart would be swelling with pride every time you showed everyone your skills. He'd hate it if someone suddenly put the spotlight on him instead of his girl.

If you compete officially, you probably have told Ume once or twice to calm down while he's watching from the sidelines. Let's just say he gets a bit too heated...

"Can you believe it? Unanimous decision? Pfft, what a joke." / "Babe, it's fine... I won..." / "So? Doesn't mean they can rob you of your honor like that."

His eyes turn into hearts whenever you ask him to teach you how to fight or ask him for tips. But you quickly realize he might not be the best person to ask because he can't take it seriously (he's still gushing about how you asked him so he's a bit soft with you).

Will mope around when you ask the other guys to ACTUALLY fight with you seriously.

You relent and him if he wants to help you cooldown instead. His smile returns almost instantly. He'll even offer you a footrub after. Such a good boyfriend :(

HIragi Toma

"Hm? Oh... yeah, I guess that was good."

He's like the middle ground between Kaji and Ume. No overflowing praise or tough love. Nothing. Hiragi's so quiet about it.

While he's not good with words, you can tell that he's aware of your skills through subtle signs. You can see how he carefully observes how you move and the little nods of approval he gives you when you do it perfectly.

It has become your goal to become good enough that Hiragi will have no choice but to compliment you. He doesn't know it nor was that his plan.

He will actually refuse to spar with you. While he knows you can hold your ground, he doesn't think he could forgive himself if he hits you too hard by accident. But he'll encourage the other guys to help you get better.

But when you finally get him to agree and kick his ass (affectionately), he feels an odd wave of attraction for you all over again.

"Heh... you're better than I thought."

Togame Jo

"Damn... you got a pretty nasty kick. I think it's better than mine."

You can never ask this man for constructive criticism because he will butter you up no matter what. He'll even tell you that you're way better than him when even a baby can tell the difference in your skill.

"Nah, you gotta believe me when I tell you that kick was amazing." / "I landed on my but, Jo. It was a flop." / "I think you were just too strong." / "Sigh."

When sparring with him, you can tell he's going too easy on you. Sometimes he won't even try. He'll let you win all the time. Unless... you ask him nicely to actually fight like he usually does.

Of course, he whoops your ass with ease. But he'll put you in a bear hug after and tell you how well you did against him. Togame insists that you were one of the toughest opponents he has faced (yeah, right).

I think he's the type of guy to make stupid and suggestive jokes about how flexible you are...

On the flipside, he'd love to be more flexible himself (for fighting, obviously). So he asks you to teach him the kind of stretches/training that you do in order to achieve your level of flexibility. Plus, he just loves learning from you.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker headcanons #sakura x reader #umemiya x reader #suo x reader #kaji x reader #hiragi x reader #togame x reader #sakura haruka #suo hayato #ren kaji #umemiya hajime #hiragi toma #togame jo

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generalluxun · 24 days ago

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MLS6 Sublimation

An analysis of Marinette's behavior/reactions (by request) Salt-Free.

This post is in response to an ask, because tumblr ate that reply and posts save drafts!

The ask was in regards to my statement in another post that Marinette's actions were a 'control' move, asking me to clarify what that meant. I'm going to break it down here, referencing (but not quoting I do not have transcripts) on screen statements and behaviors

The goal is explaining, not vilifying.

I don't blame anyone for missing some of this, the messaging was very muddled in this episode and you could easily lose things in Marinette's breakneck word-vomit as well as some mixed messaging later in the episode.

You can break down Marinette's behavior re:Sublime like this:

Motivation:Fear

Response:Control

Tool:Friendship.

Early on we establish that Marinette is afraid. She's 'not jealous'(she claims) but she very much is catastrophizing. She envisions Adrien liking Sublime better than her and deciding to go out with her. We'll put a pin in this for later but for our purposes now this admits her emotion: She is afraid.

Her response to this fear is an attempt to gain a level of control over the situation. If she has control, she doesn't need to be afraid!(She thinks) She goes right back into her (worst) habits of the previous seasons. She gathers intel, follows/stalks/spies on people, and forms elaborate plans.

All of these are bent to trying to befriend Sublime- but friendship isn't the real motivation, just the tool. I have no doubt Marinette would like to be friends with Sublime bit in this instance that is not *why* she is going to these lengths. Marinette believes if she is Sublime's friend that somehow she(Sublime) won't want to date Adrien, or maybe just that Marinette could spot anything forming and head it off. -She will have more control.

And that's it really. I'm not going to dig into Marinette's specific behaviors as I think they were done 'for the show' you *could* make the final talk with Sublime into being a control move too (guilt/pity so that Sublime would feel bad 'stealing' Adrien) but I think that was more about shoehorning in a 'lesson' while not wanting to address the lesson set up at the start(for unknown reasons)

Now I am going to get into *why* what Marinette is doing is actually worse than what she has done before. If you can't stomach even a well intentioned critique of our protagonist, this is your warning.

In Sublimation Marinette is treating Adrien as an *object*. From the very beginning her fear discounts his agency. Marinette us afraid Sublime will be better and so Adrien will leave. It's 1+1 to her.

The fact that Adrien has openly and repeatedly professed his love for her doesn't seem to weigh for anything. Are we to assume her own love is so mercenary? If someone just slightly 'better' than Adrien came along, would she jump ship? I'd like to think not.

Now, this is a common (and very tired) romance trope, but it is one that needs to die, and it feeds poorly into Marinette's other behaviors. It also shows a regression. It was one thing to worry that an Adrien who she wasn't dating, who hadn't told her he loved her, might be wooed by someone else amazing(Kagami). It is something else entirely to consider him fickle and a mere creature to be dazzled by a new and shiny thing.

Her approach -inserting herself into Adrien's friendship- also disregards his autonomy. Her little 'my future friends' speech might seem cute, but with the knowledge of her fear and the lengths she goes to, it is clear- Adrien can't have female friends who Marinette doesn't have an eye on.

A healthy response is to wait to be introduced. It is good to have friends who are 'yours' outside of who you are in a relationship. Each party should know people who are not beholden to the other.

If she couldn't wait(which we will allow for, anxiety exists) ask to be introduced. Keeping Adrien in the loop and letting him have agency in the hows, whens, and ifs of things is still reasonably reapectful.

Going behind his back to forge a connection without his involvement and 'usurp' the friendship is is just flatly unhealthy. Yes Adrien makes light of it, but this is the abused boy who has been told the person who abused him was a hero. His ideas about autonomy and self-worth are a bit sketchy at the moment.

This is not all to say Marinette is a 'bad person'. It *is* to say what she is doing here is bad, top to bottom. Marinette behaved terribly in this episode. Do not do anything remotely resembling what she did. Do not take away any of her justifications as valid. They are the same logic that an alcoholic uses to say 'Just one won't hurt'.

Here's to hoping this particular arc of Marinette's journey ends quickly. It feels like a real step back for her.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #ml sublimation #ml sublimation spoilers #ml analysis #in response to an ask

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 7 months ago

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This is complaining day because I realized there's more than one thing that got on my nerves lately and it's not just about the treatment of a kpop idol's mother. Let's begin.

Please, stop refering to Jungkook's mother as mama Jeon. I know the tendency is to ignore so many of the cultural differences that exist, but in SK, people don't change their surname after marriage. It just sounds idiotic and westernized in a ridiculous way.

So, Jungkook's mother loves all BTS members. She LOVES them all. How does army know that? How? I'm genuinely curious and genuinely asking. Because they say it as a certainty. Or, forgive me if my memory is faulty as well, but the only instance that we as outsiders were privy to in which we heard that woman speak for the first time, it was in early 2021 on another phonecall with Jungkook when she said I love you to Jimin.

Of course, the same ot7 narrative came as a buldozer at that time too. Damn, does that mean Jimin = BTS? Sometimes yes, but only when Army wants to diminish Jimin's importance and doesn't allow him to stand out individually too much. Musically or otherwise. But back to this Big Love that Jungkook's mom is supposedly feeling for everyone and which has been invoked once again when that woman mentioned Jimin twice while talking to Jungkook on the phone. Cause she already knew they were in Jeju. I bet she didn't have to find out randomly from a schedule group chat.

So what happens? An assumption is turned into certainty because of small people being extremely insecure. Because they see that one person is once again given more importance on a personal level and we can't have that. No sir! So in a panic, they tweet, they post on tumblr, tiktok, youtube the old age, boring af, sounding like a broken record sentence: "Mama Jeon loves all seven". Fuck me gently with a chainsaw cause that sounds a lot better than the feeling of throwing up I get whenever I read such things.

No, she doesn't love all of them. That is not a fact. It could be true and it's not impossible. But it is not a fact based on the knowledge we have at the moment.

Also, it shows once again that an entire fandom is actively creating a reality of their own which is not even like some sort of simulacrum of the reality they must live through. In Army world, the mother of one member of a k-pop group must love all the members of such group. It doesn't matter than irl, our mothers a lot of the times don't even like all our friends, besties or partners. We might have the most incredible connections and it would mean nothing to our mothers.

In that same vein, another narrative that makes me want to pull my eyes out is the "awww, their bond is to die for, they are (like) siblings after all". Do any of them never had any siblings? Never saw other people and their relationship with their siblings? Or with their family?

I also had to read (which was followed by me blocking it immediately) how Jimin and Jungkook's relationship is the sum of the other relationships they have with other BTS members. I mean, why would I have any sort of expectations from any of these people when they are completely incapable of looking at JM and JK as actual people. As persons with individual minds and an intellect of their own. Let alone the fact that their world does not stop with the presence of 5 other men. In what realistic scenario does this translate in real life? That's not how it works. Yes, we are social creatures and a product of our surroundings, but it is not in the way in which these stans believe it to be. They think that living in a dorm for a few years and working together with other people, it means that those experiences are the only ones that actually shape the personality of a person. They are real people, not fictional characters. I've never heard such ridiculous theories in my entire life, to be used as talking points about someone's behavior or relationship with another person.

Maybe the need to create this elaborate fantasy comes from the lack of love in their life, which then gets projected into this Disney, kumbaya, capitalist heaven narrative in which everyone is a big family and they love each other so much and equally and all the parents of all the children love every single member and thus, harmony is created. Love is always platonic and ever present. The complexity of human relationships must not exist.

#m thoughts #jikook #bts army #jimin #jungkook

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nameless-jamie · 1 month ago

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Hi, I see that you're busy so no pressure. Just wanted to thank you for your ffs and ask if you'd consider continuing Steady Hands? Just wanted to read about Jamie and PA having lunch and him being an absolute himbo trying to distruct her 🥰 thanks 🥰🥰🥰

Steady Heart

Small Drabble (read Steady Hands first!)

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing

A/N: Thank you for the request and the interest in this specific fic! I actually couldn't think of the situation further, as a long chapter, so I turned it into a small drabble I hope that's okay too! But I bet we'll see more of himbo Jamie soon! (Why is spelling soufflé so hard???)

The midday sun bathed the quaint café in a golden glow, casting playful shadows across the rustic wooden table where Y/N and Jamie sat. The remnants of their lunch lay between them, but Jamie's attention was entirely on her, his signature mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"You know," Jamie began, leaning back and stretching his arms, the movement causing his shirt to tighten across his chest, "I once tried to cook a romantic dinner. Thought I'd impress someone special."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And how did that turn out?"

"Well," He chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. "let's just say the fire department knows me by name now."

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. "What were you attempting to make?"

"A soufflé," he admitted, leaning in slightly. "Didn't realize you're not supposed to open the oven every five minutes to check on it."

Y/N shook her head, smiling. "That's adorable, Jamie. But we know that cooking isn't your thing."

Jamie smiled, his expression earnest. "Hey, if you ever need a laugh, just remember: I once set cereal on fire. Last Monday actually."

She giggled, the tension from earlier in the day melting away. "How is that even possible? I thought when you set that shelf on fire it was the last time the fire department had to come?!"

"It's a talent, babe. The guys from the fire department are fans by the way..." he said with a wink.

Jamie leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, I have other talents too. Plenty..."

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks but met his gaze steadily. "Oh? Care to elaborate?"

Swear to god if it's something sexual, Jamie Tartt. She might hit him...

"Nah, these talents ya have to discover yourself..." He smirked, eyes twinkling. "Look, I'm also pretty good at making people smile. Like right now. Fuck, got to make a list of me talents now."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Is that so? Maybe I'm just humoring you."

Jamie placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Wounding me, love. Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you're just humoring me."

She laughed again, the earlier tension of the day melting away. "Alright, Mr. Tartt. What else you got, tell me more about your other 'talents'."

He leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, I'm also quite skilled at reading people."

"Oh really?" she challenged. "And what do you read from me, then?"

Jamie met her eyes, his gaze softening. "I see someone who's been carrying a lot on her shoulders. Someone who deserves a break and a bit of fun."

Y/N felt her breath hitch slightly. "And you're the one to provide that fun, I suppose?"

He grinned, leaning in once more. "Absolutely. Starting with dessert. They have this chocolate lava cake here that's to die for. Share it with me?"

She pretended to ponder. "Hmm, I don't know. Sharing dessert is quite intimate."

Jamie winked. "Exactly."

As the waiter brought over the decadent dessert, Jamie grabbed a fork, scooping up a piece of the molten cake. He held it out to her, eyes locked onto hers.

"Open wide," he teased.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before leaning in, accepting the bite. The rich chocolate melted on her tongue, but it was the intensity of Jamie's gaze that truly made her heart race.

"Delicious?" he asked, his voice low.

She nodded, swallowing. "Fuck. Very."

Jamie took a bite himself, then offered her another. "You know, they say sharing food is a way to someone's heart, babe."

Y/N smirked. "Is that your plan? To win my heart with chocolate cake?"

He leaned in so close she could feel his breath. "It's a start."

The air between them seemed to thicken, the playful banter giving way to a deeper connection. Y/N felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Jamie," she began, her voice soft.

"Yes, love?"

"Thank you. For this. I didn't realize how much I needed it."

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "Anytime. And I mean that."

As they finished their dessert, the world outside the café continued on, but inside, time seemed to stand still for the two of them, lost in each other's company.

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #afc richmond #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine

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demonpiratehuntress · 9 months ago

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love me again

OPLA!Sanji x F!Reader

taglist - @kabloswrld

summary - you were a waitress at the Baratie years before you joined Luffy's rag-tag crew. you shared one kiss with Sanji and when you return with them to the Baratie, you find the cook hasn't forgotten. and he wants more

warnings - was going for fluff but this turned out angstier and longer (i got carried away) than i thought. don't worry, it's still fluffy at the end though

a/n - please request more OPLA!Sanji, i am going insane. my favourite is Zoro (as i'm sure you guys have noticed) but i had a dream about this guy. help

"Are you really leaving?"

"I wish you'd come with."

"You know why I can't."

"I know..."

A brief silence settled over you both before gentle footsteps met your ears. When you looked up, he was right in front of you. Your breath hitched, the proximity causing butterflies to bloom in your stomach.

"This is what I've always wanted..."

"I know," he answered softly, "Look at me. It's okay."

You didn't want to look. If you looked at him, you'd be tempted to stay, just like you'd been for so long. Every time you tried to leave, one look from him made you stay. You'd been delaying following your dreams because of how much you'd miss the only man you'd ever loved.

"(Name)."

You slowly looked up, hesitantly. He was offering you a sad smile, obviously trying to be brave for your sake.

"Maybe our paths will cross again one day."

"I hope so," you replied quietly. "Don't forget about me now."

He chuckled, "Forget about you? Never." You raised an eyebrow, and he took your hands in his. "I promise. Let me prove it to you." And then he leaned in, connecting your lips.

How ironic, your first kiss was your last.

"Is it over?"

Usopp glanced over your shoulder at the far end of the ship, stepping out from behind you and sighing in relief when he saw you were not being chased by the Marines anymore.

You chuckled, leaning against the railing, "That was fun, actually."

"Fun?! You and I have very different ideas of fun..."

Nami snorted, agreeing with you, "And you have no idea of fun."

As the sharpshooter protested, you looked up at your captain, who was sitting on his favourite seat - Merry's figurehead. He was sniffing the air, looking both confused and curious.

"Something wrong, captain?"

"I smell food," was his reply.

You grinned at that, not taking him seriously. Luffy could smell food - more specifically, meat - from oceans away. Most likely, there was another pirate ship passing by where someone was cooking.

That's what the crew needed. A cook. You had worked at a restaurant before, but only as a waitress. You knew a little bit about cooking, but just the basics. Nothing fancy or exquisite. So it would be nice for the crew to have someone who could cook elaborate and tasty meals.

"What is that?" You heard Usopp ask, peering into the distance.

You turned to see what he was talking about, and immediately froze. Every vein and artery in your body turned to ice, blood running cold.

"What's a Baratie?"

Oh god. Before you could stop it, dizziness washed over you and you had to grip the railing for support. Well, you tried. You would have fallen overboard if it wasn't for Zoro, who caught you before you could.

"(Name)? What's wrong?" Nami asked worriedly as the swordsman led you to sit down.

There was no way. Absolutely no way. How could you have found your way back after all these years? You might have thought you were dreaming, but your journey thus far had yielded far worse surprises so you knew you weren't.

"I, um..." You didn't know where to begin. "I..."

None of the crew had ever seen you like this before. Even Zoro's eyebrows furrowed, confusion at your sudden timidness. You weren't known for being shy, quiet or easily flustered. You were loud, tough and one of their fiercest fighters. So what could possibly be reducing you to this?

It was even worse when the Going Merry docked at the pier. The familiar aroma and atmosphere of the Baratie hit you full force, and it was making your head spin - not in a good way.

"Usopp, help her!"

You felt a hand grab your arm, and another gently placed on your back, guiding you off the ship. You were so unsteady it was scaring your crew.

But maybe you shouldn't be worried. Maybe he wouldn't remember you. Maybe he really had forgotten, despite his promise not to. You had changed a lot, after all. You never forgot, but you knew him. His gravitation towards pretty girls might have left you in the dust in his mind.

Despite part of you hoping that would be the case, your stomach churned unpleasantly at the thought.

Sitting down at the table you and the others were escorted to helped put you at ease a little. As the others looked around in awe, Nami put a hand on your arm and met your eyes with concern shining in hers.

"Do you want to leave, (Name)?"

"No, no, I..." You took a deep breath. "I used to work here."

"What?" Nami's eyes widened.

"Cool!" Luffy exclaimed. "So you know people here?"

"I...do."

Nami was about to ask for a better explanation, that is until two guys at a table nearby started arguing and got up to physically fight. Another man approached them, and your heart almost stopped.

Sanji.

You ducked under the table quickly hoping he hadn't seen you. Staring at Zoro's swords was more appealing than facing your past right now.

"(Name)! What-"

You cut Nami off when you saw his legs moving towards your table, "Act like I'm not here! Hide me, please! I'll explain later, I promise. Just don't let him see me!"

"Don't worry, I don't bite," came the cook's familiar voice, sounding amused. "Your shy friend there can rest easy."

With a sigh, you slowly sat up and finally looked at the blond. Your eyes met, and his entire body went rigid. His smile faltered, and you quickly dropped your gaze to the table.

Zoro was first to break the silence, ordering for himself and soon Usopp and Luffy chimed in. You still hung your head, remaining silent as Sanji took their orders. He was so stunned by your return that his attempt at flirting with Nami failed miserably, earning snickers from the swordsman and sharpshooter.

"I need the bathroom," you muttered, escaping the table that suddenly seemed claustrophobic and rushing off.

Outside the Baratie, you tried to steady your breathing. You had not been ready for this at all. Your hands were shaking, your body trembling but not from the cold.

You cursed, running a hand through your hair. Trying to calm yourself down was not working at all. You didn't trust yourself to go back inside, to face both him and your crew again. Maybe you could get away with staying out here all night. You weren't that hungry anyway.

"Is it everything it's cracked up to be?"

Your body stiffened, and you refused to tear your eyes away from the Going Merry. This could not be happening.

"Is-is what everything it's cracked up to be?"

You tried to sound calm, collected, and like you were not internally freaking out. You failed significantly, your voice coming out a little higher in pitch than it normally did. The cook stepped up to stand next to you, and he smelled so familiar your body seemed to relax on its own. But your mind and heart were racing at a million miles per hour, the latter ready to burst out and make a run for it.

"Come on, one look and you decide to run away?" He teased. "Am I uglier than I used to be?"

"No, god no," you breathed out instantly, "I just..."

"I get it. It's been a while."

You nodded, slowly feeling calm settle in again, "Yeah. It has." You swallowed thickly and turned to look at him, trying to ignore how he made you feel butterflies all over again. "You're even more attractive, just by the way."

"Good to know," he replied smugly, "So are you."

God the butterflies were unbearable. You were starting to feel nauseous from your mixed emotions, and you weren't sure whether to run away again or pass out.

"I don't blame you, you know. For leaving." He sighed. "You were the braver one between us, setting off to follow your dream. I'm really glad you did, because you look great. Happy, even."

"Really?" You choked out a laugh. "What part of me right now screams happy?"

"Okay, maybe I'm just assuming that," he laughed too, "I saw what a good crew you have, so I thought that they were making you happy. Happier than you were here, anyway." He looked out at the water, glittering under the light of the moon.

"They do make me happy," you admitted, "But Sanji...I was happy here too. You always made sure of that. I just...I always wished I could have both. You and the sea. I never stopped thinking about you."

"Oh?" He turned to smile at you, "No roguish pirates stole your heart?"

"No, it was only ever a flirty cook."

The two of you shared a laugh, reminding you of when you were both younger and he would always try to make you laugh. It's why you'd fallen in love with him.

"i could say the same," he finally admitted, making your heart skip a beat. "This restaurant's seen many pretty women, but none of them have ever held a candle to you." A light blush, so light that you couldn't see it and he was glad, settled on his cheeks. "I saw you in every single one of them."

You gripped the railing hard, his words taking you off guard. They were the sweetest and most romantic words you'd ever heard, and you had to your best not to squeal and kick your feet like a teenage girl.

But you couldn't let yourself fall into this routine again. You were still a pirate, this was a temporary stop and you'd still leave again. And he'd stay, like he always did, like he did the first time you left.

The first tear that fell barely made a splash in the water.

'I'm gonna go," you gestured to the inside of the restaurant. "Before they wonder where I've gone."

And as he watched you walk away from him again, Sanji mentally kicked himself for not asking you to stay again. No, for not going with you. there was no way you'd stay after getting a taste of your dream.

It was just not meant to be.

The rest of the night you hid from him. Every time he would try and talk to you again, you made an excuse or every time you spotted him nearby you slunk into the crowd at the bar and disappeared from his view.

He found it cute how he could still fluster you so easily. Chuckling every time you not-so-discreetly hid behind a random person, he would give up and move away only to try again minutes later.

"You're hiding from me," he finally caught you at the bar, getting more drinks. There were only so many times you could avoid him.

"N-no," you stammered, blushing. "What gives you that idea?"

He raised an eyebrow, asking for a drink for himself, "Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you to stay. I already know that answer."

You bit your lip, taking a deep breath, "Kiss me again."

"What?" Surprisingly, he was taken aback by how forward you were about it. "(Name)-"

"Please," you begged, "Just once more. I have a feeling this time I really won't be coming back here. We're heading for the Grand Line, so...if this is the last time I'm going to see you, I want us to say goodbye with a kiss."

He was so conflicted. On one hand, he would never turn down an opportunity to kiss you. On the other...he would be setting himself - and you - up for heartbreak all over again. But if you were really going where you said you were...

His hands found your waist and tugged you to his body, his lips crashing against yours with the force of a heavy tide. He kissed you deeply, fervently, like it was your last day on earth. He kissed you like the world was ending, like he'd never get to kiss anyone ever again. Not that he'd want to, after this. Because you returned his passion, hand gripping his hair and one gripping his shirt. You kissed him so fiercely, it was truly a kiss to remember.

"Be careful," was all he could breathe out when you pulled apart for air.

"I will."

Then the fight with Arlong happened.

You felt a thousand different emotions course through you. Anger, for Mihawk and Arlong hurting Zoro and Luffy, and for Nami's betrayal. Hurt, for Nami not being the friend you thought she was. Sadness, for watching Zoro lay almost lifeless on the kitchen table as Zeff tended to his deep gash. Confusion, for how fast the night had gone wrong.

What had happened?

"He'll be okay."

You looked up at Sanji as he approached you, not noticing you were shaking until he reached out to touch your arm, trying to comfort you without getting too close.

You took a shaky breath, "Of course he will. He's the strongest person I know." You looked down again. "But he's never been hurt that badly before...And Nami's gone..." You buried your face in your hands. "Everything is so wrong right now."

Sanji was again conflicted, but he hated seeing you so torn up so he put aside his own feelings to pull you into his arms, comforting you silently with a hug. It was more soothing than anything you'd ever known, especially since it was coming from him. You had no idea how you'd cope with leaving him again, after all of this.

"Thanks," you smiled softly as you pulled away. "It was really nice to see you again." Your cheeks heat up at the memory of your shared kiss. "I'm gonna miss you even more now."

He just smiled tightly, putting his hands in his pockets, "Yeah, me too. I, uh, I should go help the old man clean up."

You nodded, watching him walk away. It hurt now, but it hurt even more knowing he would eventually move on since you wouldn't be back, and the thought of him with someone else crushed you. Little did you know, he was having the same dilemma, the idea of you with another man making him sick to his stomach.

But you'd both have to learn to live with it.

The next morning, Zoro was still in a coma but the four of you - him, you, Usopp and Luffy - were preparing to leave the Baratie. You offered to sit with Zoro as they prepped the Going Merry for departure, not sure you could see Sanji standing and watching you go.

"I really need you to wake up and knock some sense into me," you spoke to the comatose swordsman, wiping your teary eyes. "You're the only one who won't treat me like a fragile flower, even though I feel like it."

Before you could say more, however, Luffy joined you. He said his own piece to the swordsman, and the two of you sat there for a while before you decided to let him have a private moment with the green-haired man.

You walked to the kitchen, taking a seat and a deep breath.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Usopp sat across from you. "I know how you feel."

"Oh, right," you remembered, "Yeah, it really sucks. I had to leave once before, but this time hurts even more."

Before Usopp could reply, Luffy was yelling for the two of you.

"(Name)! Usopp! Zoro's awake!"

The two of you exchanged looks before scrambling up and to the room, bright and relieved smiles crossing your faces when you saw the swordsman's open eyes.

"I can still knock some sense into you," he spoke, his voice thick and raspy. So was the chuckle that followed.

You laughed and rushed over to hug him, careful of his huge wound. His 'knock' turned out to be a light bonk on your head, making you laugh even more.

A little while later, he was up and about, but you made him sit down. You finally got the courage to come out as the ship was just about to be sent off, and in time to see a familiar cook walk on board with a bag hanging from his shoulder.

"Why are we bringing the waiter?" Zoro questioned, only for you to lightly smack his arm.

"I figured I could follow two dreams at once," Sanji started, moving closer with a warm smile, "Finding the All Blue and...you." He stopped just in front of you. "The old man gave me the push I needed."

You teared up again, this time out of joy, and smiled so brightly your face would hurt afterwards, "Welcome aboard."

Then you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him again, this time slower and sweeter since you would have many other opportunities to kiss him again now. Zoro groaned, but the two of you ignored him.

"Okay (Name), you can no longer relate to me," Usopp huffed.

That made you laugh, and you had to pull away from the kiss to do so. Even Sanji grinned, his hands finding your back and rubbing soothing circles onto it.

After a very emotional goodbye to Zeff, Sanji watched the Baratie fade into the distance before joining you at the front, wrapping his arms around you from behind and earning a smile from you. He matched it as he kissed your cheek.

"Now this feels right."

"Agreed."

"I can't wait to see what this adventure has in store for us."

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji

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alwynwitch · 10 months ago

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Raglan James, Marius de Romanus and Daniel Molloy's memory loss

Okay, this sounds insane and I could be very wrong... but I still think it is possible that Justin Kirk plays Marius. Hear me out.

Obviously, Raglan James is a real character and I think AMC is going to use him (for later iwtv seasons and maybe for their talamasca show as well). But in season 1 Rashid was also really Armand... and Rashid is now a real character with a role in the story as well. The same could be true for Raglan James.

So, why would Marius be impersonating Raglan James?

Mainly, because he feels protective and responsible for Daniel. I think Marius played a role in Daniel's memory loss and recovery as a person after the first interview (and possible chase/love affair with Armand). Armand and Louis left him broken and confused and needed someone to help and take care of him. Enter Marius.

Biggest clue:

Roman Weiss Publishing House? Like, come on. No publishing house is called like that, unless it is connected to Marius de Romanus. Also, this is Daniel's memoir, his other books are published at a different (normal) publishing house. But the memoir that is connected to his memory loss is published by Roman Weiss.... hmmmm....

Don't forget: in the books it was Marius who helped Daniel recover after he lost his mind. Daniel stayed with Marius for years. Marius loved Daniel and loved taking care of him.

(And yes I think AMC!Armand can know at this point that Marius is alive, because I think Lestat will tell him out of spite before Armand throws him off the tower. And Marius's painting is in the Dubai Penthouse.)

I think the Talamasca really has a stake in the interview and sent an agent, Raglan James (who I suspect still works for them at this point). But Marius interfered and kidnapped Raglan James and threw him in his basement.

He wants to help Daniel with his memories. He could be annoyed at Armand and Louis that they are toying with Daniel now, after all he did to take care of Daniel. And he is invested in the bigger picture of the vampire world. He is still taking care of Those Who Must Be Kept and will be aware of the great conversion, because it impacts them (and Amel). He might not like the idea that the Talamasca knows too much about this. And he might know Raglan James is a bad person and he doesn't want him near Daniel (and Armand).

So in this new role he can help Daniel and as a double agent he can keep Raglan James and the Talamasca at bay.

(The Talamasca seems to have a more active role in the AMC Universe than in the books, see also Mayfair Witches. So vampires might also engage with them more actively.)

Are there clues that Raglan James is not who he says he is?

A few. He speaks weirdly. He articulated his name in a weird way and Daniel immediately asked: "Got a real name?" Like he doesn't believe it. It is a clue for the audience: something is going on and we need to pay attention.

And he seems to be bad at his job. Raglan James was not bad at his job, he was just reckless because of bad character. He was actually a genius, but bored and distracted easily. He got kicked out of the Talamasca, because he was using his paranormal powers and knowlegde for personal gain. He lied to the Talamasca and robbed them. David says in ToTBT: "He deceived us with elaborate fabrications and counterfeit records on a scale you wouldn't believe. He loves that sort of connivance." And: "With his gifts he should have been able to deceive us forever."

And look at his interaction with Daniel:

Raglan James says awkwardly (and too loudly): "I will stop looking at you now." And pretends to have a phone conversation. At the end, the whole restaurant is looking at them and listening.

Does that look like a genius secret agent who could have deceived the Talamasca forever? I don't think so. A good agent would have the situation under control. Something is off. Is it Marius? Pathetic, nerdy, vain and controlfreak Marius who thought he could play a secret agent and failed miserably? Maybe.

#interview with the vampire #raglan james #justin kirk #iwtv meta #amc iwtv #iwtv amc #marius de romanus #daniel molloy #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv theory #iwtv speculation

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yearninflowers · 2 months ago

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please elaborate the cult leader!Sunday... the whole class is curious (love all of your fics, btw! <33)

Thank you for taking your time to read my fics, i'm genuinely happy hearing you like all of them o(^o^)o !

The sunday fic

Actually for that fic, the main idea was cult leader!sunday who manages a whole cult worshipping the very grounds you walk on, with a bunch of other people (whom you may or may not know) he succeeded in persuading. If that cult was successfully built, he won't tell you about it until after he 'persuaded' you too, because what if you suddenly get scared of him? He can't let that happen. He can't let you get away after all that he did for you.

Well, anyway, it'll all be easy for him. After all, he's a master of manipulation; it's a piece of cake to build a place wholly to pray to you.

But i kind of scrapped that idea and turned it into him just worshipping you alone (at the moment, maybe?). While i like the initial idea a lot more, i think the ending where he wants to be your only devotee fits him best. It somewhat implies how much he wants to keep you as his only deity (read: he's obsessed with control). What if someone taints the ever so pure you? He won't allow it. But maybe, after he 'wakes' you up from your human state and finally makes you realise that you are meant to be worshipped by someone (sunday especially), he might spread around a word or two about you.

Ah, also, in line with me elaborating more about the sunday fic, i think i didn't quite express the part when sunday's face 'turns' into something scary, specifically this part:

This time, Sunday didn't immediately smile. He didn't reassure you right away. His face looked unlike what you knew of him.

It's just that he always puts a kind person facade to almost everyone around him, including you. When he knew that someone deliberately made up a rumour about him having relations with a cult, he was a little more than mad. He wasn't mad at you, of course! He was just a little frustrated that he can't immediately spill around the fact that he is worshipping you, not some other being!

He was angry, yet excited. His heart feels like it could just leap out from his chest and shout to the world that he loves and adores you! What better way to show that love than to worship you? Even if you don't understand it when he explains everything to you one day, he will gladly drill it into your mind that you are meant to be worshipped no matter how long it takes ♡

You have to accept his love, even if it's tainted with the ugliness of delusions.

If you want me to elaborate more about a specific part of the fic (or even another fic), please don't be shy to send another ask! I'm happy to share around unsaid or implied informations about my fics!

#𓏲❅ ︴giving flowers #anon #also yes the rumour is all made up! the pictures are all blurred and the person who made it up wanted to shake sunday's community #the topic of 'cult' has been going around penacony city and it has be quite a hassle for the police to deal with it #sunday is a very religious person but nobody has really heard him mutter a word about the deity he worshipped #he attends the church but is so very quiet when muttering his prayers #anyway that's all for now #thank you for giving me a chance to talk more about the fic anon ^^#yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader

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justsomerandomfanfic · 11 months ago

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Sunsets - Dick Grayson (Robin) X Male Reader

Title: Sunsets

Dick Grayson (Robin) X Male Reader

Additional Characters: Slade (Mentioned), Cyborg (Mentioned), and Beast Boy (Mentioned)

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 2,167

Warnings: Post-Robin's Slade Apprentice Era, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, Slade, some italics, hallucinations mentioned, friends to lovers, nicknames, slight angst, and fluff

The sun was slowly setting, casting an orange glow over the skyline. The sky was a light purple. The air was cool but the atmosphere was warm enough that it could still be considered summer; thought, autumn was on the way. Dick stood on the rooftop of the Tower, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the sunset. He loved sunsets and sunrises. As you once said jokingly, ‘the early bird catches the worm’. It was mesmerizing, really, the sunset; how everything changed with the setting of the sun. From the bright red to the brilliant oranges and yellows to the soft pinks, purples, and blues. Everything was changing. A new day was coming.

Dick sighed, deeply, shutting his eyes for a moment. You were sneaky and quiet, but not sneaky enough; he always knew you were there. He didn't even have to turn his head to know that you were beside him once he reopened his eyes. His gaze drifted over to you in a silent question, wondering why you had come up to the rooftop.

"I've been looking for you," You finally answered his silent question, "The pizza arrived." Your voice was calm; yet quiet. “The pizza delivery guy mistook me for B.B., so that was fun.”

He hummed, "I'll be down in a moment." He simply answered, and you hummed right back, with a small nod. Though, when you didn't leave, Dick looked back over at you, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't only come up here to tell you that dinner arrived." You responded. Dick could see you fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. He could tell that something was on your mind. And before he could ask you to elaborate, you continued; "I also thought that maybe you'd like some company." You turned to look at him once more, "If not, I totally understand if you want to be alone. But, if you want someone to talk to, or just be here, then... Well. I'm here." You shrugged slightly, as if unsure of what else to say. But as Dick's silence lingered in the air, your nervous grin faltered as you quickly tried to recover. "I mean, I can go if you don't want to talk or anything! I understand this might be your 'me time,' and all... I just wanted to offer some support. I mean… I don’t want to be that guy that rains on your ‘me time’ parade." You spoke quickly, almost stumbling over your words. Dick couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement to your nervous rambling.

The past few weeks had been pretty rough for the team, especially for Dick. First, he had locked himself in his room, trying to find any possible leads to Slade's whereabouts. Then he took up the mantle of Red X, lying to his friends, trying to trick Slade into giving him the information he needed to stop him for good; Slade saw right through his lies. And then Slade put Nanoscopic probes into the team's bloodstream - with one press of a button, the Nanoscopic probes would slowly, but painfully, drain their life force until they were nothing more than husks of their former selves. Basically... The team, Dick included, didn't fully understand the full effects of the Nanoscopic probes; except that they were painful when activated. But Slade used Dick, used him knowing how much he truly cared for his Titan team. Dick was forced to join Slade as his apprentice, and there was nothing he or his team could do to stop it.

Dick did stop it. Even when things or certain events seem incredibly impossible, he, and the team, always found a way through it.

Even during the time that he was hallucinating. It didn't take long for you and the team to figure out that he wasn’t actually seeing Slade whatsoever. It hurt your soul when you saw him in the basement of the tower, being punched around by some invisible force... You quickly got to work, trying to find out what had caused these horrifying hallucinations. You stayed up, for hours, when it finally clicked. The mask. Slade's mask. You brought the mask to Cyborg, and you and he did some tests... It was confirmed. There was this substance, residue, that had hallucinogenic effects on those who inhaled it.

It wasn't long until Dick was cured...

The memory of Dick thrashing and pulling against the restraints when he was still under the influence of the hallucinogenic, haunted you. The anger, fear, determination... It was all evident in his voice. You cared so much for him. You had come to the realization that you had liked him more than just a friend a year ago.

At first, when the realization came, you tried to deny it. That was, well, hard to do, considering the evidence that was stacked up against you. You loved his smile, his kindness towards you, and the fact that he never stopped fighting. You loved how passionate he was about every single thing he did. You felt like you were in heaven whenever you were with him. But... How long would you be able to stay in that heaven before it shattered into pieces? Into reality? Would he even return your feelings? Maybe he did really think of you as only a friend - a teammate. Maybe you shouldn’t even say anything on the subject. The questions plagued your thoughts relentlessly, and when you weren't plagued with them, you were filled with doubt. You were at a very confusing time of your life…

Dick found himself lost in a whirlwind of emotions. His gaze was fixed on the fading light, but his mind was elsewhere, grappling with the aftermath of his ordeal with Slade. Every muscle felt tense, his jaw clenched as he tried to process the tangled mess of guilt, fear, and uncertainty that was swirling within him. He knew he needed to talk about it, to let someone in, but the words seemed to stick onto the back of his throat, refusing to emerge; he could choke on them. He turned to you, his trusted companion, his heart heavy with unspoken words. His usual confidence faltered, replaced by a rare vulnerability for the usually stoic Robin. With a deep breath, he finally opened his mouth, the words coming out in a hesitant, almost stuttering manner; the gears turning in his mind.

"I... I don't know how to say this, but- I need to talk to someone about this… About Slade." He gritted his teeth, anger filling him at the mere sound and thought of his name, but he continued; "And... Everything. I... I'm not good at this, at feelings, but I... I can't keep it all inside anymore." His eyes searched yours for understanding and acceptance. The weight of his burdens seemed to lessen slightly as he spoke, the first step towards unburdening his soul. "You are one of my trusted friends, Y/N," He continued, "I... Uh..." He paused, pursing his lips as he turned back to the setting sun. He inhaled deeply, feeling the back of his eyes stinging with unshed, stubborn tears. He cleared his throat. You could feel the depth of his turmoil as he struggled to find the right words to express the torment that had been eating away at him. Finally, after a moment of silence, broken only by the gentle rustle of the evening breeze, Dick spoke again, "I... I can't shake off what Slade has done. It's like a shadow that follows me everywhere, a constant reminder of how terribly I've messed up." His words were laced with raw honesty. "I’m so tired, Y/N," Dick continued, his voice stiff; he was trying to stay strong. "It's like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I don't know how much longer I can bear it alone."

You could sense the depth of his anguish, the self-blame that gnawed at his soul. In that moment, you knew that he needed you more than ever, to be his anchor in the storm of his emotions, "Dick... Whatever you need, I'm here for you." You began, "I'm here for you." You repeated; hoping it would help him, even just briefly.

"I... I feel that it was my fault that Slade managed to get so far into my head. I failed you, and the team." Dick said quietly, looking over at the city.

Your eyes widened as you shook your head, placing your hand on his upper arm, "No, D, none of this was your fault." You insisted, "None of it. None of it was on you." You squeezed his arm tightly in reassurance, and he looked back at you, his gaze intense, making you realize that you still had your hand on his arm. Reluctantly, you let go of him but gasped lightly when Dick suddenly grabbed your hand. He continued to surprise you as he reached up with his free hand and removed his mask. Finally, you finally got to look into Dick Grayson's blue eyes. They were filled with pain, sorrow, and regret. Yet, underneath that pain, there was also determination, bravery; an emotion you were all too familiar with, though you had never seen such clear emotion from Dick Grayson. Your grip tightened on his hand as he stared at you, searching your face. You continued, "I know what you've gone through was incredibly traumatizing, something no one should ever have to go through..." You tried to blink your own tears away, but you ultimately failed; one trailed down your cheek. "But, you are so strong... So brave... It's amazing how determined and fearless you are." You cleared your throat, your face becoming hot as you glanced away briefly, "I know one thing for sure, you have this incredible capacity to pull yourself together and face whatever challenges the world throws at you. It's honestly inspiring..." You looked back up at him, giving him a small smile, "And I know that you can get through this too."

Dick let out an almost shaky breath, looking down at his hand in yours, his eyes burning from said tears and his cheeks warm with blush. His heart raced as he tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat. "Y/N, thank you." He whispered softly, looking back at you.

"Anytime, D." You replied, giving his hand a soft squeeze, your free hand reaching up to brush away the stubborn stray tear that began to slip down his cheek. Neither of you moved, not wanting to break this wonderful moment between you two. The sky grew darker, the sunset slowly disappearing behind a blanket of purple clouds, leaving a brilliant swath of stars scattered across its velvet expanse.

Dick could hear his pulse pounding in his ears and his chest growing tight. The warmth of your touch made it difficult to breathe. The desire to hold onto you, to keep you close to his side, and never let go was overwhelming. It was hard to look away from you now, despite the darkness surrounding you both. You were handsome at that moment - but you always were - your features illuminated by the soft moonlight. He gazed at you intently, his fingers gently stroking the skin of the back of your hand. A shiver ran down his spine, and goosebumps formed on his arms. The urge to lean forward and kiss you hit him like a freight train. This was new territory; a wave of uncertainty and nervousness went through him… The intensity of your gaze and the way your thumb brushed over your hand sent him reeling.

"It's getting late," He heard himself say, and you found yourself nodding.

"Yeah... Dinner might be getting cold." You both slowly broke away, his hand slipping from yours.

Dick looked overwhelmingly nervous as he pulled the collar of his superhero suit, "The rest of the team might be wondering where we are..."

"Yeah..." You answered, not really knowing what else to say as he turned and began to walk away, but at his pause, you watched as he quickly turned around and walked back to you. Before you knew it, he closed the distance between the two of you, his hand reaching to cup your face. And before you could say 'Titans go,' Dick leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was brief but sweet, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers racing through your body and igniting every nerve ending. When he drew back, his face was flushed and his expression radiant. His eyes shone with an unreadable expression, but he smiled as he looked at you; as usual, there was this understanding between the two of you.

"Room temperature pizza?" He asked with a smirk, holding out a hand to you.

You grinned, taking his offered hand, "Room temperature pizza." You echoed with a laugh, matching his grin with your own.

---

Main Masterlist | DC Masterlist

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bangtanfanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

hopelessly falling → k. sunwoo (tbz)

Based on this ask.

♢ Pairing: Sunwoo x Idol!female Reader → Idol AU

♢ Word count: 6.8k

♢ Trope: 8th f!member of BTS, strangers-to-lovers, Older!woman x Younger!man

♢ Genre: Fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint ig

⌲ Description: Being the 8th female member of BTS has brought you more trials than you could count. Now being the only one left behind after their enlistments was another obstacle you struggled adjusting to, until you found yourself hopelessly falling for someone completely unexpected. ↳ Warnings: Makeout session, swearing. Sunwoo being a flirty menace but we're loving it.

HOBI: Good luck, Y/N! You’ll crush it like always! JIMIN: You’ll do great! JIN: We’ll be monitoring you :)) YOONGS: Don’t be nervous, you’ll be amazing, kiddo. JOONIE: Y/N fighting! JK: Fighting! TAE: Go, go, go Y/N!

Despite the relentless thumping of your heart, or the cold sweat building up on the surface of your skin - there was no hiding the loving smile pulling at your lips as you scrolled through the messages in the group chat bombarding the notifications without you having to even ask.

Your members knew you well enough at this point after more than ten years together that when you went radio silent on all platforms, it meant you were drowning in your nerves.

Frankly, how couldn‘t you? You were the last of BTS to release your solo album, and only after all of them had enlisted into the military with you sending them off accompanied by a snotty nose each time. If you could, you probably would have enlisted as well despite being a woman just to not be alone until Seokjin or Hobi were to return.

Ah…This was hard. You thought, dropping the phone back on the table and looking yourself in the mirror.

Taking in your elaborate makeup and clothes, hair styled to perfection not a single speck of mascara or blush out of place. You were surrounded by people; your management team and stylists. People who had been with you for more than five years, but the loneliness had never felt more heavy than today.

You thought you had prepared yourself for it. Mentally that is. Your boys had also been exceptionally worried for your mental well-being for when it was time and made sure to give you all sorts of ways to communicate with them.

The irony was that you actually enjoyed your own space. Being alone at home for days and doing nothing besides your usual workout routine was ideal, truly.

Until you understood the saying ´You don't know what you have until it's gone.´

Clearly not as overly dramatic or depressing as the original meaning. But still, you felt their absence all the same.

The only comfort you could find from this was Yoongi with his alternative enlistment and still being around for you to find comfort in after his working hours.

But you hadn’t sought out his presence for a couple of weeks now, being too busy with your prep and wanting to let him get used to his new routine before barging in with your cries of loneliness.

“Maybe I should get a boyfriend…” You muttered to yourself, catching the delighted attention of your main stylist unnie, Aera, whose eyes widened at those words.

“You want a boyfriend?” She straightened up as if finding a 50 percent off sale on designer goods, making you regret having spoken at all. “Ooo, do you want me to introduce you to someone? I can set up a blind date! You like them like ten years older, don’t you? All alpha male and stuff? I know a couple of men like that.”

Her ranting and frankly too-knowledgeable about your preferences made you heat up in slight exasperation.

Okay, so what - you tended to gravitate towards buff, white men in their late thirties bordering on forties. Just because you might faint at the sight of Henry Cavill or Chris Evans hardly meant much for your real-life preferences.

Ask Jimin. You dated him – a brief one year - and he was hardly a carbon copy of Captain America or The Witcher.

“Unnie, I’ve already told you…”

Aera sighed before mimicking what you hardly believed sounded like yourself. “I know, I know. I’m not looking for anyone, it happens when it happens.”

It wasn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with her.

“Besides, why is everyone being so pushy about me finding someone?” You directed this question to the rest of the room, who laughed amongst themselves at the truth of it.

“Because your last boyfriend was Jimin, and that is honestly sad, darling.” Your manager, Yoo-Mi, piped up from the corner while scrolling through her phone. Probably double checking your upcoming schedules and forward emails to the rest of the staff. She was always working despite you begging her to take it easy sometimes.

Turning around in your chair, you frowned. “It’s only been three years.” Going into the fourth since your mutual breakup.

“Exactly, sad.” She didn’t relent, making your shoulders slump, another titter of fond laughter spread through the room. “Listen, Jiminie is great, of course he is. So we don’t blame you for already reaching the top when it comes to standards in men. But when was the last time you had a crush?”

“A crush?” Even the word sounded foreign to you.

“Henry Cavill does not count.”

“But that’s a crush!” You exclaimed. “I could pull him.”

“That’s not a crush, that’s a fantasy. You haven’t even met the man.”

“Rude…” You mumbled with a pout, though admitting defeat.

Damn, so everyone thought your dating life was dry and depressing. Great.

You knew they all meant well, acting like an overbearing family. And in the end, they just wanted you to be happy.

“Y/N it’s time to head out.”

Standing up you took one last overview in the mirror before typing out a reply to the group chat.

Y/N: I'm off now! Love you!

You had completely forgotten how music shows worked. It had been three years since the group promoted for ‘ON’ in the midst of covid with countless of measurements. You hadn’t stepped foot on a show since, besides supporting your members for their recent promotions.

It had also been more than a year since you’ve done any performances within Korea, having only just returned from your American solo promotions - so for you, everything felt more awkward than familiar despite your years of experience in the industry.

You heard the cheers of the crowd just as you walked into the studio where the live recording was going on for another boygroup, the hard-hitting smooth beats making your head nod as you stopped in front of a screen to overlook the stage.

Staff moved around you, securing a mic-pack before your sparkling microphone with a gradient purple to black found itself in your hand. The fans were screaming and chanting, and you found your attention caught without realizing it.

You counted ten guys on the screen as they danced fiercely in commendable synchronization looking like one single unit as they moved.

The Boyz was a familiar group to you, an old memory from an award show where they had asked BTS for a picture with shy grins and you had nearly cooed at their cuteness. Then again when Kingdom: Legendary War had aired you found yourself tuning in to watch every week.

However, this was the first you’ve seen of the group since then - having been far too busy to keep up with all the groups on the regular, never mind every single song.

You were enjoying the song currently playing, head nodding to the beat as you watched on.

Not even you noticed how you had simply frozen at the next chorus, your attention wholly stolen for a mere couple of seconds.

But it had been enough to change your entire world when the moment was recounted by your team in the future.

“Hi, hello,

My name is what you want it to

숨겨 왔던

욕망들을 whisper.”

Huh.

A sneeze suddenly forced itself out of you as you glared at the culprit, Aera smiling pointedly while holding a makeup brush that she had just tickled under your nostrils.

“What was that for?” You grumbled, the room coming back into your attention.

“My, my Y/N - is that a blush I see?” She teased as you scoffed, eyes flickering to the stage as the song came to an end.

“You’re being ridiculous.” You dismissed her swiftly, ignoring the hum she gave and letting her touch up your already flawless makeup.

You were waiting patiently near the stairs, letting your management team take the last checks for your setup as people rushed around on stage to clean up and get it ready for your performance.

The Boyz were making their way down and were impressively quick to notice you, though you blamed it on your bright white clothes in the darkness. You watched in patient amusement as some of their eyes widened, and even saw a member slapping the one in front of him with a muted gasp.

You offered them a friendly grin as their flustered bodies caught up and everyone started bowing, their waists nearly snapping in half as you took half a step forward.

“Please, take it easy.” You laughed lightly. “I loved your performance. The song is amazing.”

The obvious leader stepped forward, again bending at the waist but spoke with a sure and calm voice. “Thank you, Sunbaenim. It’s an honor.”

The members were quick to follow with various choruses of thank yous, however, some had accepted your words and took it a bit easier with the bowing.

“We love your album, sunbaenim. It’s been on repeat in the dorm since its release.” He continued to lead the conversation, the group of young men creating a half circle around you.

“Oh thank you so much!” There was no hint of any pretense in your tone, you were always immensely grateful when people told you they loved your music.

“You’re the leader, right? What’s your name?”

“Yes, I am. I’m Sangyeon.”

“Ah right!” Your fingers snapped in excitement. “I remember you, of course. From the MMA’s…was it 2018?”

Some of their eyes widened in surprise to know that you remembered them. You relished in it honestly, always loving to prove people wrong about the public’s assumption of how worldwide fame and recognition had made BTS arrogant and seemingly unapproachable.

“Y-yes, that’s correct, thank you for remembering us.”

“I enjoyed watching you on Kingdom.” You admitted, noticing how they were starting to relax around you, smiling more easily and paying attention as if you were the president holding a speech. “You were one of my favorite groups throughout the whole second season.”

Again they started bowing and thanking you, luckily less aggressive than earlier.

“Y/N-sshi, we are ready for you in five minutes. Please make your way to the stage, thank you.” A voice announced through the speakers as The Boyz started to bow again and ushered away as you offered brief goodbyes.

But then you made the mistake of looking up, finding yourself locked in a trance of soft, plump lips, thick eyebrows, puppy dog eyes, and a slim angular face - your throat felt parched as your mouth parted, but no sound came out and you snapped it back shut embarrassed.

Kim Sunwoo noticed the sudden strange behavior, as a single brow rose but he remained polite with a simple tug of his lips and a slight bow.

His dark straight hair was parted in the middle, reminding you of the styles from 90’s boybands. You admired the way his slim t-shirt molded against his lean body with the leather pants and a thick silver chain around his neck. A chain he had pulled seductively while gliding across the floor and stared into the camera.

An image still swimming in your mind.

An appraisal that you were quick to scold yourself over as you felt yourself blushing even hotter, eyes snapping away only hoping he didn’t notice your weird actions.

Only to find yourself stumbling over your own feet in a moment of rare clumsiness.

You managed to save yourself the embarrassment of falling to the ground, but only with Sunwoo’s quick thinking. Who had smoothly stepped close and held out a hovering arm just in case you were to fall, his other gently around your bicep to keep your balance.

Fuck, you were making a whole fool out of yourself.

No one had noticed it, thank goodness. All too busy with their tasks to pay attention to the interaction.

“Are you okay?” Jesus, his voice was deep. “Sunbaenim?” He hastily added, seemingly remembering your status.

“I-I’m okay.” You even stuttered now. Since when did you ever stutter. “Sorry, and thank you.”

“You should watch where you’re going.” He offered a half smile, those lips looking even more ridiculously plump and soft close as you stared up at him. “Careful not to get hurt.”

At this point, you were sure he noticed your flustered state as you cleared your throat and took a small step back out of his grip.

“I should get going.” Was all you managed to say in your embarrassed state, swiftly stepping past him to walk up the stage but not before glancing back and noticing the amused pull of his features as he quietly chuckled to himself and followed his members out.

Aera made her sudden presence known as you flinched at her proximity, only to feel your stomach drop at the near-manic grin on her face.

“Now that, is a crush, my dear.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and scream your frustrations out from that whole interaction, but could only brace yourself with a smile as you were faced with the crowd who cheered as you came into view.

Dozens of ARMY bombs waving helped settle the worry in your gut just for now.

Nicely done, Y/N. Worldwide icon, indeed huh.

You were still thinking about it as you exited the stage studio.

So caught up in your lingering embarrassment and out-of-character behavior that even surprised yourself.

Over what?! A pretty face? A voice that made your skin tingle just by the rasp of it?

“Fucking get a grip, Y/N…” You muttered, fingers massaging your temples as you returned to your dressing room.

Only to walk straight into your next phase of what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you. Quite literally too.

Sunwoo let out a low ‘Whoa’ as you gasped and stumbled back to fully avoid running him down in your haste to hide yourself away until the nominations live broadcast.

The toilet sign hung above his head as he maneuvered both of you to the side and away from the doors.

“Oh my-” You were practically bumbling fool as your hands moved in silent explanation without many words to follow up, but he understood you well enough with a small, charming grin making his eyes crinkle and nose scrunch up just the slightest.

“Hello, sunbaenim.” He gave a polite nod of his head. “It’s one of those days, huh?”

“Yeah…” You sighed in defeat, hardly trying to keep up that big and mighty senior artist image any longer. “I’m sorry it’s been taken out on you today.”

Sunwoo never lost his smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hardly the worst thing that happened to me at music shows.”

You nodded thankfully, very much aware that you were avoiding looking at him directly. Just for your own sanity, if you were being transparent.

“You can stop that, by the way…” My god, were you shy, right now?

“Stop what?”

You cleared your throat. “Calling me sunbaenim all the time. I’m not very fond of the stiff formalities, so you can just relax around me.”

“Ah…” Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his thinking. “Then… would noona be alright?”

Your neck might as well have cracked with how quickly you snapped up to stare at him with widened eyes. Only to meet a knowing smirk gracing his dangerously, pretty face.

“N-noona?” You repeated almost stupidly.

“And here I thought my breath smelled or something. You wouldn’t even look at me.” The smirk widened.

Calming yourself in record time, you were composed enough to retort with a halfhearted glare. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“You are making it very easy.” Kim Sunwoo was a straightforward man, you realized. “I suppose I would be too if caught checking someone out.” Well fuck.

Your first step was denial. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t feel embarrassed about it. I know I’m good-looking, noona. Just didn’t realize it was to the point of losing gravity.”

If you weren’t quick on catching onto dry humor, you might have thought him deadly serious with how flat he spoke those words. But you were well versed with this sort. Yoongi being a perfect example of it.

The exaggerated push you delivered against his shoulder came from a place of familiarity with your own members, and Sunwoo didn’t seem to mind the casualness of it as his facade broke and he laughed.

Giggling along, you shook your head. “You’re good.”

“I know.”

However, your smile fell at his sudden wince and how swiftly he managed to play it off within a second. But you were a quick study and noticed how subtly he rolled his neck.

“Are you hurting somewhere?” You were blunt in your concern, this time surprising him.

“Ah…” He was considering lying, you knew that. Having done it many times before yourself. But Sunwoo brushed the moment off. “It’s just a bit of muscle stiffness in my neck and shoulders, nothing too serious. Don’t worry about it.”

You scrutinized him for a couple of seconds before accepting it. “If you say so. But I wouldn’t be dancing as hard as you did today with that kind of pain. Be a little mindful at least and ease back.”

Sunwoo was appreciative of your advice, accepting it with a gracious nod and another, quite frankly, heart-palpating smile directed at you. You could probably just stand here and admire him for several minutes in silence if it was offered to you, but you had an image to maintain after all.

An image that fell through the moment Kim Sunwoo was involved.

“Getting lost in my beauty again, are you?” His teasing was never-ending, but instead of annoying you it only managed to pull your smile even wider.

“You are ridiculous.” Was all you managed to say with a chuckle.

He bit into his lower lip thoughtfully before deciding against whatever mental war he was having. “Ridiculous enough to ask for your number?”

There it was again. Your dry throat, and the way your heart probably skipped a beat.

“You…want my number?”

“I mean, who doesn’t want a BTS member’s number.” Sunwoo shrugged, that stupid fitted t-shirt and chain catching your attention again.

So you quirked a brow at him, knowing something else was coming. “And that’s your goal? A BTS member’s number?”

“That would be cool.” He was being awfully truthful until his eyes locked onto your own. “But I would love having the number of a beautiful woman more. Perhaps with a date on the side?”

Your surprise at his bold confession was hardly hidden, mouth parting as you blinked up at him expecting a joke to follow.

This wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been asked out by someone, but it has always been a bigger or older senior until BTS blew up to the point other idols found it too intimidating to approach anymore. It was a love-hate relationship for you in those circumstances.

Yet Kim Sunwoo managed to cross those unwritten boundaries without fear of outside consequences, his gaze firmly locked on your own without notice of anything going on around you standing by the toilets in a public hallway.

“Are you sure you would want to risk that?” Those words tasted bitter on your tongue when all you wanted to do was say yes.

But you weren’t a fool. Anyone getting involved with BTS would always get a spotlight of any kind shone on them, wanted or not. And you made sure to warn them of it.

Sunwoo was not shaken by it. Only quirking up a brow as if saying so what.

Your heart thumped even harder. So you held out a hand and he wordlessly put his phone in it as the clicking of your manicured nails swiftly typed in your number.

You watched as he typed in whatever name he chose to give you in his contacts and pocketed the device again.

“I’ll be waiting for that date.” You smiled with satisfaction to see the top of his ears turning red, brushing past him.

So you weren’t the only one affected at least.

UNKNOWN: What’s your favorite drink? Y/N: Who is this? UNKNOWN: I’m hurt, noona. Y/N: Ah Hello to you too, Sunwoo You changed Unknown’s name to Sunwoo. SUNWOO: Backtracking to the question. Y/N: I’m a coffee addict SUNWOO: Ofc, the drink of life. Let me guess, iced americano? Y/N: I’m more of a sweet latte girl SUNWOO: A woman after my own heart. Y/N: Alright you little flirt Care to explain? SUNWOO: I’m planning for our date ofc Y/N: Oh? Did I miss the location? SUNWOO: It’s a surprise Y/N: Should I be worried? SUNWOO: Why do you keep doubting me :( Y/N: Acting cute won’t help you SUNWOO: heart emoji Y/N: But fine, better not disappoint me, Kim Sunwoo I got high standards after all ;) SUNWOO: I guess the pressure is on

“Hi.”

“...hey.”

Your soft giggle on the other side of the phone made Sunwoo smile without realizing it.

“Why are you breathless?”

“Ah…” He kicked away a stray pair of pants on the floor before sitting down on his bed, making sure the door was closed. “I ran to my room when you called. We just got back from the schedules.”

“You could have just called me back.” There was rustling on your end, and looking at the time he assumed you were just getting into bed.

“I didn’t wanna leave you hanging.”

“Hm, what a gentleman.”

“For you? Always.”

You giggled again. A sound Sunwoo was certain he was becoming obsessed with hearing.

“I tried seeing you today.”

“Yeah.” He lowered his voice just in case any of his members were to hear him. “Me too. It was quite hectic today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know how it gets.”

“What did you do today?”

“Besides the music show? Just some interviews and a radio recording. I’m keeping my promotions at the bare minimum this time around.”

Stretching out on the bed, he couldn’t help but tease you. “Of course, the power of BTS.”

“Oh shush you.”

A silence settled between you. But it was a comfortable one, strangely enough. No awkward shuffling of clothes to have something to do, or the tense waiting for the other to speak.

“I like this.” His voice was grating with how low he was trying to keep it.

“...Like what?”

“This. Just talking to you, noona.”

Sunwoo could hear the smile in your voice. “I like this too. Very much so.”

It was hard to say how many hours the two of you spoke every night since that fateful day, but there were certainly no complaints on either end.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Roughly peeling off the cropped denim jacket, you would feel guilty about how you threw it in the corner later. Aera would understand, hopefully.

The stupid conflict between HYBE and MBC was no industry secret. But you managed to convince your company to give them another chance by letting you promote there this time after several years of avoiding the place.

And did you regret it.

“Do they think they can take me for a fucking idiot because I’m solo?” You seethed, whirling to stare at Yoo-Mi. She had a displeased expression as well, already tapping on her phone furiously as mutters of annoyance spread through the rest of your management team.

You had been on a tense tirade the entire morning with the MBC production team and director about how you wanted your performance to be captured. They were obviously not used to how much creative freedom you were usually privy to and fought you the entire way, with passive-aggressive suggestions going against what you wanted.

They only kept messing up, from your mic glitching on stage to the sound being off in your in-ear despite your several attempts to fix it during rehearsals. So the final product ended up being a complete mess in your own opinion, finding faults in every single frame in the live broadcast, your voice not being clear enough, and backtracking far too loud to convince viewers you were singing live despite having more than enough proof throughout the ten years.

The haters would have a field day with that.

“-a complete mess today, I’m telling you!” Your manager’s voice was going on in the background.

“I can’t do this right now.” With a pointed look a Yoo-Mi, she nodded in understanding as you walked out of the dressing room towards wherever there were fewer people.

You found a random hallway, fairly empty with an empty cushioned bench away from the main area of dressing rooms. Slumping down with your back resting against the cold wall, you closed your eyes with a tired groan.

It was moments like these where you craved the support of your members. If this were Namjoon, he would not have relented in getting this perfect, Yoongi and Hobi right by his sides with their penetrating gazes to make sure. Jimin and Tae would be by you in their comfort, whereas Jin and JK would make extra sure that things weren’t spiraling out of control by being the compromisers in the middle.

You weren’t a pushover, far from it. But you weren’t one for confrontations unless absolutely necessary. Today could have gone several ways with much better results if not for the underlying conflict between business companies.

You don’t know if you dozed off or were simply in your own world. But the sudden cold, damp surface of something on your forehead made you flinch up as your eyes connected with the concerned ones of Sunwoo.

He held an iced coffee in hand, the same one he was pressing against your skin as you allowed yourself to relax.

“Are you okay?”

Standing up, you instead ignored the question and wrapped your smaller hand around his own still holding on to the cup. “Is this for me?”

He nodded, lips peeling back into a small smile as you accepted it. “A caramel macchiato latte, extra espresso shot.”

You had only mentioned your preferred drink once, but he had it memorized already.

“Thank you.”

Leaning with a shoulder against the wall, hand in a pocket - the concerned glint in his eyes never went away. Wearing a similar fit to the one when you first met him, Sunwoo was still as handsome as ever. Instead of a t-shirt, he wore a fitting turtleneck, a cropped blazer that made him seem even broader, and those damn leather pants with silver accessories adorned his hands, ears, and neck.

His slightly bronzer skin compared to others seemed to glow. A feature of him you would never be sick of admiring.

“Are you going to keep staring at me in silence?” Your lips quirked up before taking a sip from the drink, the taste of it getting your mood up.

“Not if you say what’s bothering you.”

“What makes you think there is?”

Sunwoo snorts. “I walked passed you earlier and you didn’t even notice.”

Glancing at the coffee in your hand. “And you went to get me coffee?”

“I thought you needed something to cheer you up.”

So you gave in. “Just creative differences with the director here. My manager is taking care of it.”

Sunwoo hummed in understanding. “But are you okay?”

His brows were furrowed, those lips you could never ignore pulled into the slightest pout. Swallowing your nerves you stepped even closer. Sunwoo straightened up at the proximity but not moving away. He waited for you.

“Can I hug you?” Your whisper practically melted him as everything about him softened.

“Of course.”

Without hesitation, you put the cup down on the bench before snaking your arms around his slim waist, face tucked into the hollow of his neck and shoulder, and breathed him in.

The aroma of ground coffee beans and subtle vanilla, all wrapped up in notes of sweet fruits and blended spices of sandalwood and sage; a scent you would forever associate with him from this moment.

Sunwoo’s arms wrapped around you, hand gently stroking your back as you relished in the comfort he was providing. A feeling you had missed immensely.

You were falling, and there was nothing to stop you from being completely consumed by the orbit that was Kim Sunwoo.

Sunwoo was mesmerized.

Quite frankly frozen to his spot in the dressing room, standing in the middle of the room, drink forgotten in hand as he stared at the screen where you were currently one of the last performers.

Fair enough, he wasn’t exactly old, still young at the age of twenty-three, and being one of the youngest in his group he was often reminded of it. But he wasn’t ignorant. Especially not enough to ignore the fact he had fallen easily and quickly down the rabbit hole that was Y/N of BTS.

Where everyone else saw the star quality encasing your every being, he managed to see past it. Your shyness that you often hid behind the pretense of a bold personality when faced with strangers. Sunwoo could see how you were struggling to be by yourself on stages where you used to be with seven others and had quite quickly used his presence as a comfort to chase your struggles away.

And he had happily complied. It started with texting until he crossed that line by calling you one evening after a scheduled music show where neither had managed to talk, but craved to.

After several of nights of calling each other, you surprised him one evening by turning on Facetime, sending his heart stuttering at the beautiful sight of you all barefaced in cozy pajamas under dim lighting as you settled yourself on a couch.

Yet you still hadn’t found time to meet properly. The end-of-year season was always hectic with the amount of promotions and award shows that went on, especially for his group. Making that long-awaited date having to be put on pause.

Sunwoo didn’t even expect you to attend after that fiasco of a recording earlier in the month until he woke up to a text this morning from you letting him know, with an unwritten hope to find some time to meet.

“Sunwoo’s in love.” A jest from one of his members snapped him out of the stupor as he simply rolled his eyes with a smirk, playing off the words even though they made him sweat.

If only his members knew the truth.

“She’s amazing.” Another compliment followed by several others as his members fell into a light discussion about you and your well-known ability to control a stage and make people pay attention by a single note of your voice. All that without the help of your members.

Sunwoo felt like the clock was dragging by - his energy and hope diminishing with each minute while pretending he was okay around everyone. The award show was nearing its end, with you closing it before all performers would meet for the closing stage.

He must have been one of the first members out the door when the call to gather was announced. His casual eagerness was enough to catch the curious attention of a few members, but he did the best he could to act his normal self.

The stage was packed with the dozens of groups and performances that had joined for the event. Sunwoo made sure to stay close to his group, but he also couldn’t help the way his eyes kept searching for someone in particular. He had caught glimpses of you walking around the stage waving at fans, but also greeting artists who were eager to say hi.

You were keeping close to your labelmates, TXT, laughing and smiling with them openly with an arm looped around Yeonjun’s like an older sister. Sunwoo would be lying if he didn’t feel jealous seeing you act so openly affectionate with them, but he reined in the green monster quickly.

He barely managed to reign in his shock when squished amid the crowd as everyone tried to leave the stage and a familiar hand wrapped itself around his own with a quick squeeze before letting go again. Sunwoo saw your back as you walked away in front of him, still beside TXT.

You never gave any indication it had happened besides the barest of glances over your shoulder.

The next time Sunwoo managed to see you was by being dragged quite forcefully into a cleaning supply closet as the door closed behind him with a thump and lock turning.

He huffed out a laugh as you stood before him, a guilty grin painted on your lips.

“Was that a bit too rough?”

“It was perfect.” Sunwoo continued to chuckle and finally took you in.

The two of you were matching in black, his an assemble of leather and silver accents, whereas you were all sparkling sheer fabric with thigh-high stilettos and matching mini skirt. Jesus fuck.

His throat bobbed as his male mind caught up to what was happening: standing in a small-sized closet in dim lighting, with you only inches away from him dressed like actual sin.

“Do you think they’ll notice?” You asked worried, gnawing on your lower lip. His gaze zeroed on the action.

“My members definitely have, but they’ll think I probably ran off to the bathroom.”

“We won’t have long then.” The downturned vision of glossy lips made him lick his own, in anticipation or nerves, Sunwoo wasn’t sure.

He could hear and feel everything now. The sound of your breaths, the rising of your chest, and the heat of your skin only a fingertip away from his touch. You must have caught on to the same desire because you finally looked at him - as in thoroughly looking, doing an appraisal of him from head to toe with a sly tilt to your head, eyes lingering on the cropped fabric of his shirt - lips pulling up into a smile.

Someone was clearly not feeling shy anymore. He didn’t know if it was a good thing for him.

“-can I kiss you, noona?” Sunwoo cut off any words you wanted to say. And you didn’t seem all that surprised. “I need to kiss you. actually.”

“Need to, huh?” You were clearly very amused by his words. “Then who am I to stop you?”

Oh yeah. Definitely a dangerous turn for his sanity.

“You’re such a tease.” Sunwoo couldn’t help but mutter as he hauled you against him firmly, cutting off your giggle with his lips which turned into a pleased sigh.

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pressed up against each other down to your hips as you raked your nails through his scalp causing a shudder and a groan to leave him.

Sunwoo kissed you enthusiastically but slowly, seemingly on a mission to memorize every single crevice in your mouth, those plumb lips feeling even softer on your own. He turned your bodies around, never separating from your mouth when he suddenly bent only to pick you up.

You squeaked in surprise, pulling back momentarily only to be pushed even firmer against the door, your legs spreading to accommodate him between your thighs, your skirt scrunching up.

That all melted away as you let out a soft moan as Sunwoo finally sucked on your tongue, humming against you with a smirk tugging in the corner of his mouth. He moved away, to the corner of your lips, behind your ear, and down to your neck - wet kisses and his tongue making you pant as your thighs squeezed around his hips.

Your fingers that were already in his hair tightened their grip even further, holding him against you where he was kissing your neck with a breathless whine and Sunwoo only chuckled at your reaction.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to pick you up just like that. But no part of you was certainly complaining by the turn of events.

He was more than ready to go further, you noticed. And to be fair, so were you. So strung up with your nerves desperate to find release in any kind that you could have fucked him right in this closet. If it weren’t for the time and place.

Manvouring Sunwoo’s face back up, you only got a glimpse of his flushed appearance, lidded eyes, and swollen lips before you kissed him again. This time much slower, trying your damn best to calm both of you down.

Your feet found the ground again, Sunwoo leaning in over you with both hands cupping the back of your neck almost too gently, but a hold that you couldn’t help but rest into.

It was a struggle to separate, he found out. Pulling back but always needing to dip back in for another kiss or peck. He did it so many times that you ended up laughing.

“Fuck, I can’t seem to let you go,” Sunwoo murmured, thumb caressing your cheek softly as your eyes sparkled up at him.

“It’s not the last time.” You assured him, leaning in to press your lips against his neck for a little teasing touch as you smirked in satisfaction feeling him shudder before nuzzling close.

“I know…” He sighed heavily, obviously not wanting to leave, but the clock was ticking. And the more time they spent lost in each other’s arms would make everyone else around them more suspicious.

So with a heavy heart and frankly, half a boner - Sunwoo pushed himself away so you could open the door. He took the lead, peeling it open slowly and looking both ways to see it was surprisingly sparse with only a couple of staff on the other end.

You held onto his hand from behind him, sneaking out slowly as the door clicked shut. From there both of you rushed to where your dressing rooms were - you only being a few doors down from him.

Just as the sign of The Boyz were in view, Yoo-Mi, your manager came out of your door and freezing both to the spot.

Sunwoo cursed, body tensing beside you, but he was assured quickly to see the almost entertained smirk on the older woman’s face as she waltzed in their direction.

“Unnie.” You greeted her sheepishly, never letting go of his hand. You actually moved closer as Sunwoo bowed in greeting.

“Not a crush, huh?” That was all Yoo-Mi said before shaking her head and moving on. “I’m going toilet, be quick, we’re leaving soon.”

Then they were alone again. Slowly glancing at each other, Sunwoo bit down on his lip before snorting out a laugh with you following with a low laugh.

“That went well.” He grinned.

“We really have to go now,” You gave a pointed look at their intertwined hands.

“Yeah…” His grin didn’t fall as his large hands gently gripped your hips and pulled you closer. You hardly had the power to resist him. “Goodbye kiss?”

“You will be the death of me, Kim Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo leaned down with a mischievous tilt to his mouth, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “But you would love that, noona.”

Leaning up you sealed the kiss softly, hands resting on his chest only to flinch apart the very next second.

“Yah Kim Sunw-!”

Q or Changmin stood in the open doorway with his mouth dropped open, only for the two of them to realize they had placed themselves directly in front of The Boyz’ dressing room.

Giving a complete view of both of them to everyone inside as heavy silence fell.

Well. There went the secrecy.

“What…the hell?”

Simultaneously taking in the jaw-dropped expressions of his members. You and Sunwoo couldn’t hold back your nearly manic cackles as you fell into him for support.

“Am I dreaming?” Someone wondered out loud in English.

If this was a dream, then you would never want to wake up.

Thank you for reading!

masterlist

#bangtanfanfiction #kpop imagines #bts au #bts 8th member #the boyz #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #kim sunwoo x reader #tbz sunwoo imagine #tbz idol au #kim sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines

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