#and for some reason she gets on my nerves constantly. i really can’t explain this im genuinely trying to understand but i guess the verdict

[kiss2012]

im sorry i still cant stand abby

[chaotic-mystery]

PROFESSOR’S PET

Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.

Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.

Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||

“You want me to do what?”

It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.

He couldn’t have been serious.

“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.

“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”

“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”

He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.

“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”

You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.

“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.

“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.

He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.

“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.

The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.

“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.

Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.

The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.

You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.

Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.

There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.

You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.

“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.

So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”

He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.

Focus.

You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.

“I got it. Botticelli.”

“Nice choice. Why him?”

You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.

“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.

“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”

Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.

“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”

You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.

“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”

Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.

“What do you mean, professor?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.

“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”

You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.

“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”

You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.

“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.

“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.

“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.

“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.

He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation you nod yes.

“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.

“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”

That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.

His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.

“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.

For the purpose of learning, right?

Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.

“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.

“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”

His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.

“Joel, I-”

“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”

His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.

“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.

You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.

His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”

His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.

“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.

“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.

He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.

“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”

You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.

“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.

“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.

The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.

He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.

“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.

“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 I, CARRION

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: the day of the event has arrived and dazai is second guessing everything, but it's too late for him to back out now.{wordcount: 12k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART FOUR wow guys we're really getting into the meat of the fic now. HAHAH this is the chapter i had to split into two parts, initially it was going to be one big one but then it would've been a whopping 23k words and that's a bit much even for me. i didn't want to cross the 20k realm HAHAHH. anyway, this chapter really was a pleasure to write, the second scene was my favorite but the ending was SOOOO close to usurping it

GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

“Gin-chan, I’m so nervous.” 

You pace around Dazai’s penthouse anxiously, twisting your fingers in front of your body. The event is taking place tomorrow night. You still don’t have an outfit for it—Dazai told you not to worry about it, you’re still worrying about it because what does that even mean? You don’t know what to expect from the event, and Gin is evasive when you ask her about what will happen, just keeps telling you that it’ll be fine as long as you stay with Dazai.

“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Gin says, as she always does, still tapping away at her laptop. Glasses hang off the bridge of her nose and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. You feel a bit ashamed about constantly going on about your nerves when you know damn well she, Dazai and all of the other executives of his company have been working nonstop the past few days trying to finish preparations. “Dazai-san will be with you the whole time, and if he has to talk business, someone will sit with you until he can get back so you’re not feeling awkward.”

Somehow, you think that might be even more awkward because you doubt a random person is going to want to babysit you while Dazai is busy, but you don’t voice your thoughts, instead just withering as you circle the large room for the sixth time in the past five minutes. 

You’ve hardly seen Dazai all week. You don’t really mind, you know he’s swamped with work and you’ve been keeping yourself busy going out cafe hopping and shopping. Gin comes with you when she can, but it’s usually Nakajima Atsushi or Tachihara Michizo that joins you—Gin had introduced you to the two security guards a week ago when she’d been too busy to come with you to a cafe downtown. You don’t mind the company but you can’t help but wonder why Dazai is so insistent that someone comes with you.

Well. You can’t help but wonder about a lot of things, really. You’re pretty certain that Dazai is still hiding something major from you. You don’t know a lot about business, and you especially don’t know anything about his business, but something isn’t right. You’re not stupid and everyone is not as slick as they think themselves to be, you see how tense and anxious people get when you mention him to them, more so than the average worker would be at the mere mention of their boss, and everyone in the entire damn building is armed, even though they clearly try to hide it whenever you’re in the area. 

You and your friends have joked about the uber wealthy before, and how no one above a certain tax bracket obtains their wealth without some sort of blood money; you’re about 99% sure that’s what’s taking place here too, and it would certainly explain all of the secrecy. More so than trade secrets at least, you feel a bit dumb for that to have even been an explanation in your mind. You just don’t know the specifics. You don’t know if you want to know the specifics, you think you’d prefer to remain ignorant because 1) you definitely don’t want to have any sort of culpability, not when you’re on path to graduate school and hopefully a very prestigious job with the government, and 2) … you don’t want to face the reality of what that would mean. 

You like Dazai. More than like him. You’ve been slowly coming to terms with the fact that you really, truly care for him, and if you end up learning the… specifics of his job, then you’re going to be forced into making a decision you don’t want to make: preserving your future and morals or risking them for him. And you’re not going to sit around and claim to be some upstanding, virtuous person. You’re not. But you are ambitious, and you’ve had your mind set on your future since you learned how to pick up a pen and write. You’ve worked your entire life to get where you are now, slaved your way through a prestigious undergraduate school in Japan and spent months preparing for the entrance exams for graduate school, only to what? Throw it all away for some man?

God, you almost feel sick. Distantly, you wonder how awful of a person you must be for the threat to your future success to be the main reason why you’re questioning yourself, and not the fact that it’s very likely that Dazai and his conglomerate have some sort of business with Japan’s underground, maybe even direct dealings with the mafia itself. 

You pause from where you’re pacing around the room, eyes widening a bit as another realization hits you. You had thought it was odd that Dazai and Gin and all of the executives of the conglomerate have been so stressed and anxious over an event that they’re not even hosting, but what if… Your throat spasms a bit as you swallow, wondering if Dazai is about to bring you not to an event hosted by their rival, but to an event hosted by the mafia. You don’t think he would put you in danger like that, you don’t want to think he would put you in danger like that and you wonder if you’re just sending yourself down a spiral of unnecessary paranoia. 

But it doesn’t make sense. Dazai is enamored by you, and you don’t think you’re being conceited by saying that because he has made it abundantly clear. There’s no way he would ever put you in danger like that. Not unless… you feel a bit green remembering his reaction to you saying that you’d go out on your own and stay with your friend the weekend of the event. You could feel the anxiety radiating off of him for a split second before he asked you to come with him. You also remember how he always makes sure someone is with you when you go out, and god, you swear you’re not a conspiracy theorist but nothing is making sense when you look at it through your rose-tinted lenses but looking at it through these lenses. The lenses of a man who is obviously smitten with you, and who might have dealings with the mafia—of course he wouldn’t want you to go out on your own because he’d be scared that you might be targeted as a means to get to him.

Oh, you feel dizzy. What have you gotten yourself into?

“Are you okay?” Gin is looking up at you, brows furrowed in concern. “You look a little sick.”

“I’m fine,” you say, but the words sound pathetic even to your own ears and you know Gin doesn’t believe you from the way she tilts her head to the side to study you.

Luckily, you’re saved by the bell. Literally. 

Your head snaps to the side as the elevator dings, and ordinarily, you would be ecstatic because who else would be coming up to the penthouse besides Dazai and while you’ve certainly missed him over the past week with how busy he’s been, you’re not sure if you’re ready to see him right now with the way your thoughts have just spiraled, because you think you might blurt something out that you can’t take back.

But, for better or for worse, it is not Dazai that enters the penthouse.

“Good morning, ladies,” a familiar voice croons as the elevator doors slide open. Your eyes light up as you whip around, eyes falling upon a face you haven’t seen in almost two weeks. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Albatross!” you say, excited, a smile splitting your face, because yes, even knowing about the possible affiliation with the mafia, you’re still excited to see the blonde—he’s never been anything but sweet to you, and he’s really the only one besides Gin and Chuuya who doesn’t treat you weirdly because of your relationship with Dazai. 

“D’aw, look at it, Lippmann, told you the doll would still remember me,” Albatross grins, dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose as he tosses you a wink and then looks back toward the elevator.

Your gaze follows his, and your eyes fall upon a vaguely familiar person stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse, carrying a few boxes. Pale hair cut into a bob, a pretty, androgynous face, dressed to the nines in a light purple waistcoat and matching pants—where have you seen him before? Wait-

“You’re-!” you begin, eyes wide and lips parting in shock.

“Walter Lippmann,” the man greets you with a kind smile and soft eyes, you feel a bit flustered, you can hardly meet his gaze. “Everybody just calls me Lippmann though.”

You try to speak, but you’re a bit starstruck—the last thing you’d expected was for a movie star to step into the penthouse. You’re looking between Albatross and Gin and then hesitantly back at Lippmann as you try to figure out what’s going on. 

Albatross cackles. “Looks like she’s gotta crush, Lippmann. Better not let the boss find out, he’ll get jealous.”

“Albatross,” you complain, hands flying to cover your hot face. “Not true, I’m just surprised. Am I allowed to be surprised?”

“Yeah, sure, doll, that’s it,” Albatross says, clearly not believing you at all as he throws himself onto the couch next to Gin, looking up at you. “The boss asked us to pick up a dress for you. Go try it on, I’m going to raid his liquor cabinet while you do—if he asks, you better take the blame.”

You see Gin roll her eyes. “You will not raid his liquor cabinet, Albatross,” she says firmly, but the man only winks at her.

You turn your attention back to Lippmann, who’s carrying the dress in a garment bag, a shoe box tucked under his other arm. He gives you a small smile and then motions for you to follow him; you’re still starstruck as you follow him into Dazai’s bedroom, pointedly ignoring the way Albatross snickers. 

You watch as Lippmann hangs the garment bag up on the closet, placing the shoebox down on the bed. He turns toward you after and says, “Try it on and make sure it fits properly. And make sure you like it.”

You nod, lips parting to speak but no words leave your lips. You look up at the garment bag, down to the shoes, and back to Lippmann and then you ask, “How do you… how do you know Dazai?” 

Lippmann gives you another gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You notice, a bit curiously, that he seems to take a moment before he speaks, as if choosing his words carefully. 

“I knew Dazai’s father,” he says after a few seconds. “I work with the Mori Corporation sometimes regarding press and political matters. Like a spokesperson when Dazai is unable to.”

Hm, you think to yourself before nodding, a movie star as a spokesperson for a corporation, that’s a bit odd, isn’t it?

Your brows furrow slightly as you try to fit the new knowledge in with all of the rest you’ve put together over the past few weeks but it’s just another jagged puzzle piece that’s not fitting in anywhere.

“I’m a huge fan of your movies,” you finally tell him, rubbing the back of your neck as you toss him a sheepish smile. “Like, no joke, almost cried when you had your discussion panel for The Good Society three months ago because it was two days before my entrance exam to grad school so I couldn’t go.”

Lippman laughs, pale cheeks flushing as he looks down at the ground before back up at you. “Honestly, you didn’t miss out. The whole panel was a mess, and the AC broke twenty minutes before, so it was ridiculously hot.”

You don’t really know what to say to that, cursing the fact that you are 1) still half dazed on top of 2) already being naturally awkward, but Walter Lippmann is Walter Lippmann, so of course he knows just what to say and do.

He nods to the dress that he hung up on the closet. “Try it on and then give us a show,” he says, winking at you before he makes his way out of Dazai’s bedroom back into the other room with Albatross and Gin.

You sigh when you’re alone again, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what your life has become before you make your way over to the dress. You unzip the garment bag, curious to see what Dazai had picked for you, and your eyes shoot open when you see the red gown within the bag. Smooth and silky, off-the-shoulder, it’s probably the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon; you feel like you shouldn’t even touch it, much less put it on. 

But Lippmann and Albatross and Gin are out there waiting, you can hear them talking through the door, so you force yourself to gingerly pull it off of the hanger, careful to not be too rough with the material. It doesn’t take you too long to get your clothes off and the dress on, but when you do, you can hardly bring yourself to move away from the mirror. 

You look beautiful. You do. The dress is a perfect fit, it compliments your skin, it compliments your hair. You look beautiful, but you feel like a fraud, like a clown in a ball gown, hoping that the beauty of the dress would draw attention from the fact that it’s not meant for someone like you. 

You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at your reflection. Too long, evidently, because you hear a sharp knock at the door and Lippman’s concerned voice asking if you’ve gotten the dress on.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I’m dressed.”

You hear the door to Dazai’s bedroom creak open but you don’t turn to look.

“I think this costs more than my student loans,” you breathe out, staring at yourself in the mirror. You smooth your hands over the silky material, eyes catching the way it clings to you perfectly. “God, where the hell did he get something like this? It’s like it was made for me.”

“Probably was,” Lippmann says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, lips quirked up into a half smile as he tosses you another wink. “Perks of dating one of the richest men in Japan.”

You let out a noise caught between a whimper and a laugh, suddenly feeling very, very out of place.

Lippmann clearly catches your sudden change in attitude and his brows furrow. “Do you not like it?” he asks curiously. “There’s plenty of time for him to send for something else.”

“No, no,” you hurry to say, voice catching. Although you’re unsure how twenty-hour hours constitutes ‘plenty of time’, but you digress. “It’s perfect. It is.”

“What’s the issue then?”

“I just…” you trail off, eyes lingering in the mirror. “I feel silly, I guess. How obvious is it that I’ve never worn anything like this before?” 

“Silly?” Lippmann asks, amused, peeling off the doorframe to make his way over to you. You swallow thickly as he straightens your posture and then uses two fingers to make you raise your chin. “You look stunning. Like a woman who belongs on the arm of the most influential man in Japan… Like a woman who doesn’t need to be on the arm of any man.”

Your face feels a bit hot as you let out a puff of laughter. “Now you’re exaggerating.”

“I certainly am not,” Lippmann says firmly, taking a step back. “You’re only getting in your head. From what Chuuya has told me about you, you’re more than suited to outwit and outclass anyone in attendance at that event.”

Your face feels hotter now, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Flatterer,” you say, but you feel a bit better, chest lighter as your gaze turns back to look at the mirror. “... Do you-”

A sharp whistle from the door draws your attention from Lippmann; there’s a lecherous smile on Albatross’s face as he leans against the frame and looks at you, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. “Damn, if you weren’t the boss’s girl…”

Gin slaps him hard on the back of his head, glaring at him before turning a small smile to you. “You look beautiful,” she says softly. “He’ll be speechless when he sees you tomorrow.”

Your throat feels tight as your lashes flutter, a smile on your lips as you look down at the ground. Even though the concerns of your realizations from before still weigh heavily in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of seeing Dazai tomorrow.

The giddiness is long gone.

You still haven’t gotten dressed.

You’re sitting at the edge of Dazai’s bed in your bra and panties, staring at the wall with your knees pulled to your chest. Your dress is hanging on the closet on the far side of the room, heels sitting on the floor beneath it. You’ve done your makeup and you put your earrings on already—pretty, dangly diamonds that are the most expensive thing you own, the last thing your brother gifted you before he cut you off entirely. You need to be getting dressed, Dazai will be up here any second to pick you up to leave for the event, but you just can’t bring yourself to put the dress on, anxiety eating away at you.

It’s not even because of the realization you’d come to yesterday, it’s because you think you’re about to make a fool out of yourself. Even if you’re wrong about the theory that you might be heading into an event hosted by the mafia and their associates, you’re still heading into an event that’s going to be attended by people who are much wealthier than you, and you already feel out of place and you’re not even there. 

The dress is beautiful, but you think you’ll look like a clown in it, everyone will know that you’re not from the same sector of life as them with a single glance. Lippmann’s words from yesterday are in one ear out the other now that you’re closer to the actual time of the event.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear the bing of the elevator arriving at the penthouse, and you don’t notice Dazai until he pushes open the cracked door to step into the bedroom. And you feel like you should be embarrassed sitting half naked on his bed, rather than being dressed and waiting for him, but you can’t muster it, eyes dragging up from the wall to land on his concerned expression. 

And he’s a sight, you think. He’s so handsome. Absently, you think he might be more handsome than the last time you saw him but you think that’s a bit ridiculous because he hasn’t changed at all. He’s wearing the same long black coat and burgundy scarf, but the sleek, dark suit he wears beneath it is different, more expensive than all of the others that he’s donned the past few months you’ve known him. 

His lips are turned downward as he approaches you, placing a blue box down on his dresser, dark eye soft with concern, and you also can’t help but notice that he still wears the bandages around the upper left side of his face, covering his eye. You want to know what’s beneath them desperately, but you can’t bring yourself to ask, hoping that he’ll show you on his own terms.

He stands in front of you, and you rest your chin on your knees as you stare forward, staring at his abdomen instead of looking up at his face. But he doesn’t let your gaze linger there, bringing his right hand to cup your cheek so he can gently lift your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. You can feel the rough edges of his bandages scraping against your skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch. You try to remind yourself of all of the realizations you’d come to yesterday, tell yourself to not be as at ease with him, at least have some semblance of your guard up, but you fail.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you softly, letting you lean into his touch as he brings his other hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”

And you feel selfish, you realize, as you try to figure out what to tell him. You can’t even fathom the amount of money he spent on your dress and the shoes, and here you are being a baby because you’re self conscious. You don’t even want to reply to him, so you try to turn your face away but he doesn’t let you.

“Tell me,” he says quietly. “I’ll fix it, whatever it is.”

“It’s silly,” you finally breathe out, averting your gaze to the ground as you let your eyes flutter shut, turning your face in his hand to kiss his palm before leaning back into it. “I’m being a baby, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not silly if it has you upset,” Dazai tells you, and he kneels down in front of you to catch your gaze again and briefly, you think it’s absurd that you have such a powerful man at your whims like this, kneeling before you, willing to do anything to make sure that you’re content and happy. It makes your throat swell a bit, those inferior feelings rising back to your chest with a vengeance, because what the hell did you do to deserve this? There’s nothing special about you. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help.”

“I just don’t understand.” 

Oh my god, your voice cracks, you can feel your eyes go a bit misty, and instantly, Dazai’s concerned gaze is narrowing, as if trying to calculate what exactly is the source of your distress so he can remove it, and it only makes you want to cry more because what did you do to deserve all of this? 

If you’re right about all of the assumptions you made the other day, and Dazai is bringing you to this event even though by all means he should not because there’s likely going to be a lot of shady business occurring that could incriminate him and all of the other people at this event, then why? Why would he risk that just for a girl he met a few months ago? You can’t fathom it.

God, you know better than anyone the effects imposter syndrome can have on a person in school, but the last thing you expected was to be dealing with it in love too.

Love, the word makes your stomach churn because you do love him, you realize, as he stares up at you desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it. And how scary is that, considering only twenty-four hours ago you came to the realization that he’s very likely involved in the underground, in some way or another, and you had to come to terms with the fact that you’d have to choose between your future and a man. But he’s not just a man, he’s a man that you love in spite of everything you’ve put together.

A tear spills over your cheek and Dazai’s gaze becomes alarmed as he instantly wipes it away with his thumb before caressing your cheek gently. 

“What don’t you understand?” he presses quietly. “Talk to me.”

Where do you fucking start?

You want to cry even more but you force yourself not to, you can’t afford to let your makeup get anymore messed up than it already is. Instead you sniffle a bit and try to blink away the tears. 

“This,” you finally say, and your voice cracks again, you take a wet breath. Dazai’s lips part a bit, as if he wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say, brows furrowing. “There’s nothing special about me, Dazai, and I don’t understand why you’ve gone to the lengths that you have for me. Meeting me at that club every Friday as if you’re not always swamped with work, indulging me whenever I want to do things. You gave me a place to stay after only knowing me for a few weeks, gave up your own room, your own bed, so I could be comfortable while you slept at your desk. You’ve made sure people are always with me so I never get bored or lonely. You’ve given me literally everything I could possibly ask for and I’ve just been freeloading off of you for two and a half weeks now. Now, I’m going to go with you to this event and end up embarrassing you because I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else there. They’ll know I don’t belong there and I just-”

You cut yourself off, and you want to avert your gaze from Dazai’s but you can’t bring yourself to. Instead, you watch as something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. He takes one of your hands into his and brings it up to his lips, eye sliding shut for a moment as he kisses your knuckles. You let out a shaky puff of air as his lips linger for a moment before he looks up at you again through his lashes.

“Let me help you get dressed,” he murmurs, and you look down at the ground now as you nod, letting him help you to your feet and lead you over to where the dress is hanging up on the closet door.

He pulls it off the hanger and guides you into it, pulling it up and adjusting it so that it covers you properly. He steps behind you, and you realize that he also has you standing in front of the floor length mirror set up on his closet door. You sniffle a bit again as you look at yourself in the mirror. 

Your makeup looks a bit smudged beneath your eye from the tears gathering at your lash line, but somehow, you still look beautiful. You think it’s only because of the dress, the way it clings to your body so nicely and brightens all of your features. You take in another shuddered gulp of air when you feel Dazai begin to zip up the back of your dress slowly, each brush of his fingers against your skin lights your nerves on fire, and once he finally has it zipped to the top, he kisses the nape of your neck, hands falling to your hips to caress them gently. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean back against him, his comforting hold settling your turbulent emotions.

“I met you at the club every Friday because you were the only relief I had from reality,” he finally says, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds you. “I indulged your requests because I was indulging in you myself. Every moment I spent with you, I allowed myself to be Dazai Osamu, the person, and not the… Not what I’ve had to become to keep this organization running.”

Your breath catches, lips parting at his words but no sound escapes them. He kisses the nape of your neck one last time before he moves to stand in front of you, kneeling down again as he grabs one of your heels and undos the buckle. You watch with bated breath as he lifts your left foot from the ground to kiss your ankle before sliding the heel on, deft fingers fasting the clasp. 

“I gave you a place to stay because I was selfish and I wanted you around more,” he sighs, resting his forehead against your knee now as he lingers there for a moment before moving on to repeat the process with your other foot, kissing your ankle and slipping the heel on. He continues, “Likewise, I have kept you surrounded by people because I have been desperately afraid that you’re going to get bored and want to leave because work leaves me little time to be around. Unfortunately, I’m not the generous person you’re making me out to be, I’m horribly self-serving and greedy, especially when it comes to you.”

He looks up at you now from where he’s kneeling in front of you, gaze searching your face. You want to reach out and cup his cheek, so you do, and immediately, he’s turning his face to kiss your palm just as you’d done to him before letting his eye slide shut as he leans into your touch, as if basking in it.

“I would give you anything you want,” he admits softly, keeping his gaze shut as he holds your palm against his face. “Anything. And if it was something outside of my reach, I would make it in my reach. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, no lengths I wouldn’t go to and no lines I wouldn’t cross.”

You think your lungs might be burning, you don’t think you can breathe as you stare down at him, heart thudding in your swelling chest, tears building in your eyes again but this time not out of insecurity. Dazai finally rises to his feet after placing one last kiss upon your knuckles, and he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to the dresser where he’d placed the blue box. 

You don’t move, watching as he opens it and pulls something out before making his way back over to you, standing behind you. He looks at you through the mirror as he lifts his hands to place a glittering diamond necklace upon your collarbone. You can’t breathe again, you realize, it’s cool against your skin and you think it might be the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon, dozens upon dozens of white diamonds shimmering in the mirror in front of you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he clasps it onto you. 

“You are beautiful,” he says, voice so raw that you almost shiver at the intensity of it. His fingers brush your hips as if he’s afraid to touch you. “You are beautiful, and intelligent, and everything I have ever wanted. You deserve so much more than me, more than you’ll ever be able to understand, and I’m sorry that I’m not a good enough man to do what’s right and let you go. The last thing you should ever be doubting is this.”

His eye slides shut again as he lets out a soft puff of air, the warmth fans across the back of your neck and you think you could spend forever in this moment with him, wishing that you could freeze time. 

“You said that you thought it was fate that brought us together,” he finally finishes, voice quiet as he references what you told him the first time you met. “Don’t ever doubt your place with me. Wherever I am, you belong, whether it’s a club, or an apartment, or an event.”

“I thought you hate the idea of fate,” you say, voice a bit choked as you try to force the tears back again.

“I do,” he affirms, “but if fate brought us together, then far be it from me to deny the one thing in this world that has ever made me happy.”

You love him.

You feel sick to your stomach—be it from butterflies or the implications of the realization. The words threaten to burst from your lips but you swallow them, instead, another tear trails down your face and he sees it through the mirror, lifting his hand to wipe it away before leaning a bit over your shoulder to press his lips to your jaw.

“I’m ruining my makeup,” you rasp, letting out another shaky breath.

He smiles against your skin.

“You’ll be beautiful still,” he murmurs before pulling back, admiring you for a moment before he asks: “Are you ready to go?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you say, a bit breathless. “I’m ready.”

“Everyone is staring at us.”

You’re not wrong, exactly. As soon as the two of you had entered the room, all attention was sent your way, and though the music was loud enough to drown out most chatter (intentional, of course, so unsavory ears can’t overhear even more unsavory dealings), Dazai couldn’t help but notice the hush that spread through the room at the sight of you. The boss of the Port Mafia with a date on his arm was certainly a sight to behold to all of the rest of the occupants of the event hall,.

“Can you blame them? You look beautiful,” he says, voice laced with a teasing edge that is certainly not matched in his expression. Dazai knew people would be looking at you if he brought you here. Still, he wants to gouge their eyes out. 

His arm tightens around you as he tucks you into his side, cold gaze sweeping across the massive event hall. At least two hundred people are attending Nabokov’s event—an even mixture of pharmaceutical tycoons, technology barons, politicians and mafiosos. 

At first glance, he recognizes four different mafias in attendance. 

Mishima Yukio of the Sun and Steel stands by one of his associates, the president of Mitsubishi Chemical Group; the man’s dark eyes card over Dazai with lazy interest, before his head tilts to the side as he studies you.

Dazai thinks that the Sun and Steel might be the Port Mafia’s only allies in attendance, and even then, allies might be taking it too far. The extent of Dazai’s dealing with Mishima was a general agreement to not encroach the Sun and Steel’s monopoly over the narcotics industry—which Dazai never intended on doing anyway because the industry is far more trouble than it's worth—and an unspoken promise to protect Japan’s underground from foreign mafias. 

Dazai wonders if that unspoken promise still holds or if the Russians have cut a deal with him. 

Nabokov’s Pale Flame, obviously, is in attendance, along with the remnants of Leo Tolstoy’s Three Deaths. Tolstoy himself is sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand as he leans back on the stool, gaze focused on you. Nabokov is off to the left, making his way across the room to greet Dazai, a curious expression on his face. Dazai recognizes Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber sitting near Kitazawa Michihiro of Fuji Electric, one of the Port Mafia’s closest associates; and Dazai thinks that might be a bit foreboding, both because of the presence of the Chinese and the company he’s keeping.

Dostoevsky’s House of the Dead is nowhere to be seen, but Dazai knows that they’re here. Somewhere. He just has to find him—and he will.

More eyes are on you than him, and although that was to be expected, Dazai can’t fight the doubt that suddenly swirls in his chest, wondering if he’d made the right decision. If you hadn’t been on people’s radar already, you definitely are now, and the thought makes him a bit sick to his stomach. He tries to console himself with the fact that this was the lesser of two evils—the mere chance of you being on the radar of any of the mafias in this room, no matter how slim it might be, was not something he could gamble with. There was no way he could let you go out alone and unprotected. People like them, people like him, would jump on the chance to take advantage of the weakness and he couldn’t let that happen. 

But is this really any better? 

He’s thrown you into a pit of snakes, and you’re ignorant to all of the threats around you. His gaze drifts back down to you, catching the way your brows are knit together slightly, the way your lips are pressed in a thin line. There’s an indecipherable look in your eyes as your gaze shifts over the room, and Dazai wonders if you know more than you’re letting on. That’s another scary thought, but he can at least find comfort in it for now because it’ll have you keeping your guard up around these people. He’ll just have to deal with the consequences later.

He dips his head down to your ear, speaking quietly before Nabokov finally reaches him: “Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

The look you shoot at him is nothing short of withering, and Dazai can’t help the smile that curves at the corners of his lips as he lifts his head back up to subtly brush his lips against your temple. He catches sight of movement from the corner of his eye and any softness that might’ve been visible in his expression washes away instantly.

“Dazai,” Nabokov greets, beady eyes flickering between you and Dazai, partially curious about you and partially nervous about Dazai. Dazai tilts his head to the side, becoming increasingly more unamused the longer Nabokov’s gaze lingers on you. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to apologize for not being able to attend our planned meeting a few months ago.”

“So I heard.” Dazai’s voice is short and distant, more focused on the feeling of you tucked into his side than the conversation at hand. He has to force himself to keep his gaze steady on Nabokov, wanting to look down at you, but he contents himself with letting his hand slide down to your hip, rubbing absent circles against the silky material of your dress. 

Nabokov fumbles over Dazai’s clipped response, a bead of sweat gathering at the corner of his forehead. He wishes he could peer into your head and see what you’re thinking, about him, about this, about everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through the night without you realizing who he is, what he is, and that thought scares him because he thinks that maybe he should have been the one to explain it to you, so he could at least try to paint himself in a better light. Although, he’s not sure what sort of light would make anything about him look better.

“Who is this?” Nabokov finally asks, turning his attention toward you. Dazai doesn’t like the way he looks at you, eyes raking over you like you’re a piece of meat.

“My partner.” To Dazai’s credit, his voice is much smoother than the turbulent emotions in his chest would suggest. “Where is your wife, Nabokov?” 

Nabokov doesn’t even respond to the question, laughing loudly. “Never thought I’d see the day you found yourself a lover, Dazai,” he chuckles and then holds his hand out to you. “Vladimir Nabokov.”

You shift a bit to take his hand, but Dazai is faster, lithe fingers wrapping around Nabokov’s wrist in an agonizingly tight grip. Nabokov winces, Dazai’s face is cold as he stares down at the man.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” he warns, keeping his voice low. 

Vladimir Nabokov. Invitation to a Beheading. An ability that grants its user to draw a target into an interdimensional space through physical touch—Dazai isn’t sure what the space entails because no one has ever left it alive.

Nabokov tries to laugh it off, weaker this time as he takes his hand back and shakes out his wrist. “My, Dazai, possessive, aren’t you?”

“Very,” Dazai agrees idly. “Be sure to remember that.”

Nabokov gives him another wavering smile, and Dazai can’t help but wonder how Dostoevsky could have possibly thought anyone would believe the man could head the tripartite alliance of the Pale Flame, Three Deaths, and the House of the Dead. Anyone with half of a brain would know that Dostoevsky is behind their union. Maybe that’s what he wanted, Dazai notes absently as he watches Nabokov’s gaze flicker to the upper left corner of the room. Dazai follows it to where a camera is positioned, encompassing most of the event hall. 

The smile on his lips is nearly as chilly as the air-conditioned room around him.

There you are. 

Dazai’s gaze cuts back to Kouyou, who’s standing a few feet behind you and Dazai with Chuuya, Ace and Piano Man. The woman inclines her head in recognition of his silent order as she fans her face lightly, taking a step away to make a call to Hirotsu, who should be stationed around the building with the rest of the Black Lizards by now, prepared to move in at the first sign of danger.

Nabokov looks as if he’s going to speak again, which inclines Dazai to believe that he’s seeking something out in particular for Dostoevsky, and from the way he keeps glancing at you, Dazai assumes it has to do with you. So as the man's lips waver, eyes darting as he tries to formulate another conversation opener, Dazai speaks before he can get the words out.

“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice cold and clipped as he all but dismisses Nabokov, who flushes a bit, nodding and apologizing before stepping away. 

Dazai realizes that he probably has not prepped you enough for this event, but in his defense, he’s been swamped with his own preparations and how is he supposed to prepare you when he can’t even fully explain all of the dangers? But now, it’s making him anxious, because at some point tonight he’s going to have to step away from you to meet with Nabokov in one of the backrooms, likely with Tolstoy, Cao, and Mishima. Dazai’s executives will have to be there with him, and Tachihara is supposed to slip from the shadows to join you while you wait for his return, but there’s likely going to be at least a good two to three minutes where you’ll be alone until Tachihara can get to you. That’s assuming he doesn’t get caught up on the way over.

He needs to talk to you, at least warn you about the ability users attending the event so you don’t accidentally stumble into a potentially lethal situation without him around.

If he goes to the bar, Tolstoy will take advantage to try to sweep you into a conversation, picking up right where Nabokov left off. If he goes off to the left side of the room, Cao will make his way over to interrupt. If he goes off to the right side of the room, Mishima is there. The only place… Dazai inhales as his gaze focuses on the massive dance floor of the event hall, dozens of couples are spinning around already, and it will be loud enough there for the music to drown out his conversation with you from unwelcome listeners. 

He turns his attention to you, holding his palm up and tucking one arm behind his back as he asks lightly, “May I have this dance?” 

Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, seemingly hyper aware of all of the hungry, curious glances of the other attendants directed your way, but he’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes glitter beneath the chandelier’s lights, and the way your dress clings to your body, and the way a soft smile tugs at your lips. He thinks that even if you hadn’t entered the event on his arm, all of the room’s attention would be on you still, because you’re beautiful, and captivating, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how he managed to pull you in one lifetime, much less all of them. 

You place your hand in his and Dazai guides you across the floor, intent on finding the perfect space. It’s hardly obvious the way that the other people on the dance floor would inch away as the two of you passed by, intent on staying out of Dazai’s way and letting him have whatever space he wants, but you pick up on it, he thinks, seeing the curious look in your eyes as your gaze sweeps around the people around you. He bites back a sigh, because he’s sure that you’re tallying everything up in your head trying to put it all together, and once you get that final puzzle piece, everything will be over.

His chest sinks at the thought of losing you, but he forces it away. He has to focus on the situation at hand because even a single slip up could be fatal—not only for him, but for you too. As soon as he reaches a suitable spot on the dance floor, he tugs you a bit closer to him, hands sliding down to your waist. Your own arms instantly come up to loop around his neck as you look up at him through your lashes and Dazai suddenly feels breathless, vision tunneling and heartbeat stuttering at the way you look at him.

God, how is he supposed to focus with you around? He can hardly concentrate on anything but you. He’s flying too close to the sun. Has been since the moment he met you. Drawing you into his life and keeping you there, now bringing you here, so many gambles, too many gambles… the heat is scorching, and it’s only a matter of time before his wings burn. If he was smart, he’d let you go so that you don’t burn with him, but his fingers only bite deeper into your waist at the thought.

The music is slow, and the two of you sway in tune to it. The other couples give a wide berth, some casting wary looks at Dazai, ones that he’s sure you’re catching. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to start; what does he tell you that doesn’t condemn him? Luckily, he doesn’t have to start the conversation because you do, for better or for worse.

“Was that man the rival that Gin mentioned?” you ask curiously, and Dazai can’t help but notice there’s a strange look in your eyes as you ask it, one that he can’t place.

He hesitates, but then says, “No. He wasn’t. I haven’t seen him yet.”

You hum lightly, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that makes him shiver. But his eyes narrow when he realizes that you don’t look the slightest bit surprised by his answer. 

“You knew that already,” he accuses lightly, and he forces himself to swallow the lump that suddenly forms in his throat because if you figured that out on your own already, what else have you figured out? God, he knew this was risky, you’ve always been ridiculously perceptive—he just needs to get through tonight without you putting everything together, then he’ll be fine.

“I suspected it,” you finally affirm his accusation, gaze searching his face. “He was nervous talking to you. If he was your rival, I’d expect him to be a bit more… assured. And he kept looking up toward a camera, like he knew someone was watching that he’d have to answer to.”

Oh, you did pick up on a lot more than he expected. He doesn’t think that the smile he gives you quite meets his eyes, if the way your brows furrow have anything to say about it, but he distracts you by bringing his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “That’s my girl, always so smart.”

Your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze, a tell tale sign of you being flustered. His lips quirk up into a more genuine smile, hand dropping back down to your waist. He can do this, he tells himself, he just has to be careful, tell you enough to make sure your guard is up and you know to at least some extent that the people in this room aren’t to be trusted.

“There are a lot of ability users in here,” he finally warns, careful to keep his voice low even with the music covering his words. “Do your best to keep your distance from people. I’ll stay with you as much as I can, but I’m going to get pulled away sooner or later. Chuuya or Piano Man will stay with you when they can, and if they’re pulled away, Tachihara is going to come down to stay with you.”

“... That’s why you didn’t let him shake my hand,” you say, realization flashing through your eyes, another puzzle piece fitting behind your eyes and Dazai has to be careful because it’s only a matter of time before you’re given that final piece and everything comes together. “What’s his ability?” 

“... Nothing good,” he answers after a few moments of silence, but you’re not content with that, brows furrowing. He sighs. “No confirmation on it, we only know it’s lethal. Many are in here.”

Your eyes widen and then you look a bit skeptical. “And you think they would use it here? In public?” you ask slowly.

To Dazai’s horror, it is not skepticism tainting your tone, but rather, you’re fishing for information, trying to put more pieces together, and he doesn’t have much choice but to give you answers because he can’t risk you setting your guard down even for a second.

He chooses his words carefully. “... There is little they wouldn’t do to get ahead in our business.”

“Hm,” is all you say in response, something akin to understanding flashing through your eyes and Dazai dreads to know what his answer has just told you. He feels distinctly like he’s playing chess against an opponent he did not anticipate and he’s at a disadvantage because the opponent is you. He can feel your shoulders slump suddenly, an unfamiliar expression crossing over your face; you look tired, as if you’d aged twenty years in a matter of seconds. “What did you get me involved with, Dazai?” 

You say it so softly that Dazai barely hears it himself, and he knows. He knows that you’ve figured something out, he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t want to know what. He wants to evade it as long as possible, because the moment he has to have this conversation with you, he knows he’ll lose you. He can’t think about that now, it’ll throw him off and this is the last place he can allow himself to be thrown off.

Instead, his grip on your waist tightens again, gaze averting down toward the ground. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The words weigh heavy on his tongue, not just an apology for tonight but an apology for accepting your offer for a drink two months ago, knowing he wouldn’t be strong enough to let it be a single night of indulgence; an apology for seeking you out again afterward, knowing that he would be sentencing you to death.

He feels sick. 

What is he doing?

Why are you here?

What has he done?

“Dazai.”

You say his name but Dazai hardly hears you. God, he can feel it happening, where his fingers are pressed against your body, the skin suddenly goes cold and stiff, his surroundings are blurring, the people fading into the background. This isn’t the place. Nabokov. Tolstoy. Mishima. Cao. He can’t lose himself, not now, but his grip on reality is starting to waver, the pages pile around him. 

“Dazai.”

What has he done?

Everything he’s planned for, seven years of careful calculations and planning gone down the drain. How does he even fix this? Can he fix this? His mind races, but he’s not even sure he’s thinking coherent thoughts, trying to ground himself to the present because he needs to stay here, he can figure out how to fix it later, when you’re not in danger but-

His vision swims. Not now. He can see it—he can see you. Still on the ground. Sometimes there’s blood, so much that he can hardly recognize you (but he can, of course, he can always recognize you, even when your body is littered with more gaping wounds than not). Sometimes it looks like you’re sleeping, so much so that Dazai kneels next to you, begging you to wake up (he knows in his heart that it’s futile. he can’t stop himself from trying). His head spins, he loses track of where he is and then-

“Osamu.”

His breath catches, gaze zeroing in on you. You. Alive. Your brows are furrowed in concern, searching his face to try to draw him back to reality. He thinks his grip on your waist must be painful but he can’t bring himself to loosen it at all. He stares at you, still desperately trying to keep himself grounded because although you’ve brought him back mostly, the corners of the pages still linger in the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him again.

“You can’t leave me,” you tell him quietly. “You brought me here. I need you here with me. Don’t go off somewhere I can’t follow.”

Oh.

He lets out a breath, slow and maybe a bit more shaky than he would’ve liked, but he tries to focus on the situation at hand. He loosens his grip on your waist, rubbing a gentle circle over your hip in an apology.

His gaze drifts around the room, Nabokov is in deep conversation with Cao, hardly paying attention to anything going on, but Cao’s sharp, dark eyes are pointed over Nabokov’s shoulder, scanning the dance floor. He’s looking for someone—not Dazai, which is a bit worrying, and he becomes all the more attentive to everyone in the vicinity, trying to make sure none of the Red Chamber’s assassins made it through the security. If any organization would be able to pull it off, it would be them. 

Once he’s decided the coast is clear, he turns his gaze back to the bar. Tolstoy is looking at him—blue eyes sharp, blonde hair hanging in them, a curious expression on his face as he sips at his drink and watches as Dazai dances with you. As soon as Tolstoy notices Dazai has caught him, his lips curl up into a smirk and he raises his drink. Dazai’s expression is cold as he looks away, seeking out Mishima only to find the man nowhere to be found.

Hm.

Chuuya and Kouyou are entertaining idle conversation with two executives of the Sun and Steel, both keeping a sharp eye on where you and Dazai sway on the dance floor. Piano Man is entertaining several politicians, doing a good job at ensuring that none of the other foreign executives get any chance to get their ears. Ace, Dazai notes, is in deep conversation in the shadows with one of the executives of the Three Deaths. 

Interesting.

He finally draws his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he recalls what you’d said to drag him from his spiral.

Osamu,

“You called me Osamu,” he murmurs, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he focuses on that instead, trying to ease himself back into reality. Technically, he’s heard you say his given name before. Well. Not technically. It was never you and it was never him, rather it was vague memories of other yous and other hims, but it was nothing in comparison to hearing you actually say it.

You look embarrassed, averting your gaze. “I didn’t know how to get your attention, I’m s-”

“Say it again,” he whispers, lifting his hand back up to your chin to tilt your face back up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes search yours, watching the way you can hardly hold his gaze. You look hesitant, so he continues with, “Please.”

“... Osamu,” you say again, breathless, and god, Dazai wishes the two of you were anywhere but here. He wants to press you back against his bed, run his lips up and down your body, map out all of your curves with his hand. He wants to watch you come undone on his tongue and on his fingers—he wants you, he wants you more than anything else in the world. Every time he’s tried to take the next step with you the past few weeks, he either got interrupted by work or he ended up getting cold feet, nervous about making a mistake. 

Before his thoughts can spiral even more, the music picks up to a faster paced waltz. Your eyes widen, watching as all of the other couples shift into the respective dance. You look up at him, a bit panicked, clearly not sure what to do, and his lips curl up in amusement, beckoning you to lace your fingers with his to take the stance the other couples were taking.

“I don’t know this da-” you begin, voice hushed.

“Just follow my lead,” he repeats the same words he spoke to you when they entered the hall. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

You exhale, studying his face for a moment before sighing and mimicking the stance the other women took with their partners. He can feel your fingers wavering against his as he interlocks your fingers and he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he tells you, just as the music finally picks up for the dance to start. 

He thinks you’re worried for nothing. You moved smoothly in line with him and in tune with the music, gliding across the dance floor as if you’ve danced with him hundreds of times before, your body so in sync with his that the two of you put all of the other couples to shame. Not that any of them matter, of course, you’re all that Dazai can focus on. Your eyes never leave his, not even for the sparest of moments, and Dazai feels like he’s caught in a trance, lost in your eyes and the feeling of your body so close to his, hyper aware of the way your your hand rests on his shoulder and the way your fingers are wrapped tight around his.

God, there’s something so otherworldly about you. Doesn’t know if it’s heavenly or supernatural, if you’re his angel sent to lead him to salvation or his very own siren singing a sweet melody to lead him to ruin. Doesn’t think he cares either way—salvation, damnation, none of it matters as long as he has you.

“Not so bad, hm?” he murmurs, sweeping you out into a spin before pulling you back to him, closer this time. He can feel your chest brush his and he prays you can’t feel the way he’s lost control of his heart, painfully cognizant of the erratic thumping. His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, holding you close to him. He could stay in this moment forever, surroundings drowning out; all he can see is you, all that matters is you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Not so bad.”

His lips part to respond but he’s interrupted when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, freezing.

“Dazai.”

Dazai stiffens as a familiar voice speaks from behind him, shifting to stand partially in front of you as his gaze cuts to the side to see Mishima’s familiar figure standing a few feet away. Turning to face him, he asks, “Do you need something?”

“I’d like to speak to you before we meet with Tolstoy, Nabokov and Cao.”

Mishima’s voice leaves no room for argument, dark eyes absent of any emotion as he waits for Dazai to follow him. Dazai’s jaw tightens, eyes drifting back to you as he tries to figure out what to do. He can’t leave you here, not with Cao’s hawk-like gaze trained on the dancefloor and Tolstoy waiting for the opportunity to make a move. But he does need to talk to Mishima, have some idea of where he stands with the Sun and Steel before facing all of the foreigners. 

“May I have this dance?” 

Dazai hadn’t even heard Chuuya approach, turning to the side to watch as he holds a hand out toward you expectantly, quick to step in to take Dazai’s place so that you’re not alone. You shoot Dazai a concerned glance, brows furrowing a bit, before you place your hand in Chuuya’s.

Chuuya leads you back onto the dance floor, Dazai’s gaze lingers for a few moments, a bitter feeling spreads through his chest because that should be him, and it’s wholly unfair that he has to deal with all of this unsavory business when he should be spending time with you.

He should just kill them all here and be done with it.

The words ring through his head, echoing, tempting. He inhales and forces himself to look away as you loop your arms around Chuuya’s shoulders, swaying in tune to the slow song playing. He turns his attention back to Mishima, voice cool and expression void of emotion:

“Speak.”

Dancing with Nakahara Chuuya is awkward. Awkward is even being generous. It’s not like he’s a bad dancer—in fact, it’s clear that he’s a very good one. He’s smooth on his feet as he spins you around the dance floor, but he’s so stiff. He’s careful to keep space between the two of you, hands never dipping lower than your sides, lips pressed together. He hardly even looks at you, his attention is more on where Dazai had stepped to the side to speak with the dark-haired man who’d interrupted the two of you, but you’re grateful for it, because it’s giving you a chance to gather your thoughts.

You think Dazai might’ve inadvertently confirmed your suspicions from yesterday. You don’t know who these people are, but there’s no way any ordinary business event would be dangerous enough for Dazai to genuinely worry that someone might kill you in a room crowded with two hundred people. A part of you wonders if it’s just different for ability users, that they’re not scared of committing crimes in public because they have an ability that prevents them from getting caught, but you know you’re just trying to make excuses at this point.

Your gaze drifts back over to the older, light-haired man with dark eyes who’d approached you and Dazai when you walked in. He’s off to the side talking with a Chinese man dressed in a red suit—your gaze lingers, trying to piece together the puzzle in your head desperately, but all of the edges are jagged and confusing, you can’t seem to figure out where they each fit with each other. 

You’d thought maybe that Dazai and his business was somehow affiliated with the mafia, because no one with the amount of money and success that he has gets it cleanly, but now you can’t help but hesitate, reconsidering your original theory. Vladimir Nabokov had been scared of Dazai. And it’s not like you haven’t noticed the effect that Dazai has on people. Whenever you’re around people with him, they get tense and on edge, but it’s different seeing the effect he has on someone who doesn’t even work for him, a foreigner supposed to be one of Dazai’s associates if you understood what he meant about not showing up to a meeting. 

Who are you, Dazai?

You don’t even know if you want to know. You love Dazai. You do. You knew it earlier in the night. You know it now. It’s something you can no longer hide or deny. You remember the concerned look on his face when he saw how upset you were. You can feel the way his lips brushed the nape of your neck as he explained why he kept meeting you at the club, the way he kissed your ankles as he knelt in front of you and told you how he was selfish for keeping you around, how he kissed your palm and leaned into your touch as he promised you anything you want. God, you love him, you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he does; no one has ever spoken to you the way he does. 

You love him, and it scares you because you’re realizing you still don’t know anything about him, not really, and you’re also realizing that there’s a high chance he’s been lying to you about what he does. It scares you even more that your first instinct isn’t to run. Because you should run. This should make you run. He brought you to an event with people so dangerous that he’s afraid they might try to hurt you, or worse, but you don’t want to run, because you’d be running from him and you don’t want to run from him. 

Could you sacrifice everything for him though?

Fuck your morals—everything you’ve worked for, all of the years slaving away to put yourself on the path to success. You’ve told yourself your entire life that it would be all you would focus on, that it would all be worth it in the end. You convinced yourself that maybe if you proved yourself enough, your brother would return to your life; he’d be proud of you and he’d come back to you. You know he’s still out there somewhere, you get letters with no return address every month—the only thing in the envelope is a check with a dubious amount of money, but it’s in his hand writing, so you know it’s him. 

A part of you wants to cry, frustration clawing at your chest: the future you’ve worked so hard for, or love? The question you’ve dreaded since your epiphany yesterday is finally thrown right in front of your face, and you need an answer. The two are mutually exclusive—you will not be able to pursue the career you want with Dazai Osamu, not in the way you want at least. And you don’t want to do all of this work to just end up being another shady politician.

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Your gaze snaps up to Chuuya, who’s suddenly looking at you, and you don’t really know how to respond. 

I’m pretty sure you guys are part of the fucking Mafia and you’re all hiding it from me, but also I don’t want to know if you are because that’s going to force me to make a decision that I don’t want to make so I’d rather live in ignorance. 

“My thoughts are only worth a penny?” You deflect with a grin instead, hoping it meets your eyes.

It doesn’t, evidently, because Chuuya’s eyes narrow a bit, and then he tilts his head to the side and hits you with a more direct: “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just worried,” you finally say, not entirely lying but also not telling the truth. 

“About?” Chuuya presses and you sigh, exhaling a bit.

“He mentioned that there were dangerous people here,” you tell him quietly. “I’m just nervous for when you guys go to your meeting… I’m guessing it’s going to be soon.”

Chuuya’s brows furrow and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes before he speaks again. “You’ll be fine,” he tells you. “We have people all over the event hall, and Tachihara is going to sit with you until you Dazai can get back. Dazai shouldn’t have worried you with all of this. He shouldn’t have even-”

He cuts himself off, jaw tightening, but you know what he’s going to say: he shouldn’t have even brought you here.

“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Chuuya says quietly, and you think he might be talking more to himself than anything else now, but you listen anyway. “He’s always been hard to read but this is…”

He stops speaking out loud, as if he’s realized that you’re there again, and instead he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine. Back at the headquarters before you know it.”

You aren’t so sure.

Your gaze drifts to the side as you watch Nabokov and the Chinese man make their way over to Dazai and the man he’s talking to. The blonde at the bar that Dazai kept looking at also stands up, drink in his hand as walks in the same direction. 

Chuuya spits out a curse under his breath and gives you an apologetic look. Your heart sinks and your throat feels a bit tight—he doesn’t abandon you right away though, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he guides you across the dancefloor to the bar, all the while keeping a keen eye on what’s happening on the other side of the room.

He pulls the barstool out for you, eyes still trained on where Dazai is standing with Kouyou, two men that work for him you haven’t met yet, and the four men you assume are business associates of his. Dazai is looking at you, an indecipherable expression on his face. You’re looking at him, suddenly anxious at the thought of being left alone, a bad feeling sweeping over you. 

“Tachihara will be over here soon,” Chuuya finally says to you, tearing his gaze from his coworkers to look back down at you. He flags down the bartender to order a drink for you. “You’ll be fine. Knowing Dazai, the meeting won’t last long anyway.”

Your shoulders only slump a bit as you nod, thanking the bartender quietly for your drink as he hurries to bring it back to you, taking a sip of it. Chuuya doesn’t say much else—once you’re settled in your seat and have your drink, he squeezes your shoulder before making his way back over to the intimidating group of people standing on the opposite side of the room.

Your gaze meets Dazai’s conflicted one one last time before he’s forced to turn away and disappears down a side hall deeper into the building. You sigh as you twirl your drink around, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the brim of your glass as your eyes twist around the event hall, seeking out Tachihara, or Atsushi, or anyone that works with Dazai because you’re feeling distinctly vulnerable alone. You find none of them. You can feel eyes on you—most you’re sure are harmless curiosity, wanting to know who exactly came in on the arm of Dazai Osamu, but you know some aren’t nearly as harmless, you can feel the hungry stares of vicious opportunists directed at your back and you don’t feel comfortable sitting alone.

You don’t even get five minutes to yourself.

“Is this seat taken?” 

You’re startled by the unfamiliar voice, head snapping to the side. Your gaze focuses on a pretty man with soft features, shoulder-length black hair and gentle purple eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no words leave them, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. He looks harmless enough, but there’s something about him that has you on edge—something simmering beneath the surface of his deceptive eyes that you can’t quite place but you know you don’t like.

“I mean no harm,” he says smoothly, lips curving up into an amiable smile. “I’m an old friend of Dazai’s. I only want to talk.”

An old friend. You don’t buy it, but you don’t want to risk antagonizing him, Dazai’s warning about the many lethal ability users prowling the event ringing through your head. You just hope that Tachihara shows up sooner rather than later as you finally shake your head.

“It’s not taken,” you say quietly, motioning to the stool as you take another generous sip of your drink.

The dark-haired man smiles at you as he takes a seat at the bar next to you, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the lighting of the chandelier. Instantly, you feel like you’ve made a mistake, a chill running down your spine as your eyes meet purple ones that are not quite so gentle anymore. Sharp and shrewd instead. Calculating. Dangerous. 

“Fyodor Dostoevsky. A pleasure, truly.”

[pyramidvent]

As I suspected, nothing has changed. My dad sat in the corner cowering and talking over and over about jobs and healthcare and spitting platitudes while my mom tried to gaslight me and blame me for not wanting a relationship with them.

I told them in plain terms I need to feel respected to have a relationship and that they had to respect my identity for that to be an option. It is such an easy request yet my mom keeps talking as if I don’t want anything to do with them and says that I ‘won’t even try to have a relationship’ when I am literally telling them the exact thing that would make us have a relationship. She thinks I need to see things from ‘both perspectives.’ What she really means is that she is unwilling to compromise and blames me for demanding respect.

Then when I try to explain my feelings of transness she says it must be because of my autism and reveals extremely personal medical and emotional information on me directly in front of my friends, people she has never met before. This is an obvious intimidation tactic. Lucky my friends don’t give a shit.

I try to explain I’m afraid of them because of what they put me through in high school by being homophobic even though I know it is futile, my thoughts are confirmed when my mom starts saying that what I felt was wrong and I was being the unreasonable one as a child for hiding in my room constantly. I shut that shit down immediately, they will not acknowledge harm done but will demand evidence anyway.

My dad says he can’t understand using they/them because it’s confusing. I tell him that argument is silly and he damn well knows that he’s used singular they before. There is no budging either of them on this point. I will not allow myself to be disrespected. We go back to minimal contact again. I knew this would be the outcome. I told my dad feeling misgendered is like if he was called miss constantly, he acted like he understood for a second but then he didn’t try to change.

They would rather I die than they try to change or put even a sliver of effort into understanding me. They have the nerve to suggest a family counselor instead of just listening to me. There is no counseling to be done, it is respect or nothing. I will not meet them half way about my identity. I will not let them try to tell me I’m being unreasonable. I can’t believe some of the things they said in front of my friends.

I know my friends are tight knit and do not give a single shit, but now they know something about me that will always make me paranoid and self conscious around them. I know my mom’s intentions were to embarrass me and try to disgust my friends so that they will not want to be around me anymore. I have only willingly ever told this secret to my girlfriend and now my ENTIRE friend group knows.

It’s not gonna help, but I really want to cut myself. My friends did end up seeing my hand and I didn’t lie about what it was.

It feels like this conversation was a lead up to trying to kick me out, they only cared about me getting a job and paying for junk. It’s like they can’t force me out of the house because of guilt but are looking for a reason to stop feeling guilty if they do it. I.e. ‘I can afford my own shit now’

So, overall pretty much a useless meeting that caused me intense psychological distress.

[josiebelladonna]

apparently, spiritualbahar had posted some fics on ao3 some time ago (i wasn’t paying attention, so this was news to me) and then deleted them for undisclosed reasons. but my sources say it’s because of me, like i have been saying some things about her writing-

pssssh, no. i quit following her like two years ago. whatever she says about me isn’t true (which tells me there’s some manipulation going on: on my worst day, i’d never do anything like that). it’s obvious to say, “she could be talking about someone else”, well, there was only one person who had a falling out of massive proportions with the green druidess, who is friends with spiritualbahar…

if i recall correctly, she’s like the personification of the r/TwoXChromosomes: sometimes i’ll take a peek there when i’m seeking out advice and i have to leave after a couple of minutes, because i’ll just say it: sometimes i don’t *get* my own gender. i try to understand the way women function and i feel out of touch (for example, there’s a reason why i prefer writing scifi over romance).

but i quit following her not because of her connection with the green druidess, but because i just didn’t like her writing after a while. that’s it. plain and simple. it’s hard to follow and the way she phrases things brings out this weird sense of existential dread in me. i can’t explain it but whenever i read something from her, i got this nervous, almost squeamish, feeling in my stomach, and i had to click away after a bit, done, end of story.

just to give you a clue: i tried reading that “bound in love” one while i was getting fever off the ground…

i couldn’t do it. between the grammatically incorrect title—which constantly bugged me, like it’s not “bound in”, it should be “bound up in” or “bound by”, it feels like there’s a word missing—and the stilted dialogue that no one would ever say in real life—yeah, it’s fanfic but make me believe, because i’m still reading and i want to believe and indulge as much as anyone—and the fact ellie got on my nerves really quick, i had to stop after three chapters.

and let me get this straight: i show that i’m being plagiarized, with screenshots and whatnot, and i catch hell for it in the form of ostracism, basically made into persona non grata, and villainization, but… you know, vaguepost and refer to me with no proof whatsoever and people eat it up. this was one thing i highlighted about the green druidess when it all started: you have teenagers following you. kids. and you’re basically telling them that it’s okay to dogpile and ostracize someone all because you don’t like them and make up complete bullshit about them all the while (really, it’s hard to tell if she’s referring to me at all, which is why i wish vagueposting would die out already; i have no idea what she’s talking about). but what kind of example are you setting, especially when you have reads by the thousands and these kids are fangirling over your writing like it’s the real dude? what are you doing?

[folklorelise]

That one time he said “you’re not my mother” & “I love you”

That one time they said, “you’re not my mother!” and that one time they said “I love you” — I decided to combine these two because I found it was too short otherwise :) enjoy

MASTERLIST

Eren Yaeger:

Most of the time, when Eren and Jean were fighting, it was in a friendly way – always bickering like siblings which is way if Levi or you were there, you would never get involved.

That is why when that one time they were fighting – for real – you and Levi arrived too late. Eren received a punch on his face and Jean had his arm broken. When you two noticed what was happening, you quickly run to where they were and separated them. Mikasa and you were restraining Eren while Levi took Jean away.

“Eren, you’re bleeding. Let’s go.” you told him before bringing him with you. “Mikasa, can you and the others stay here with Kuchel please?”

“Of course.”

When you arrived in your office, you took out your first aid kit and cleaned one of his wounds, and then stitched it up.

“What happened?” you asked Eren when you were done with the stitches.

“Nothing.”

“Well, you both ended up hurting each other so no, it was not nothing.” you argued.

“Whatever.” Eren mumbled.

“Eren! This is serious.” you raised your voice, “Jean was hurt–.”

“So was I! Why is it always everything about Jean with you? Oh right! He is your favourite after all.”

“This is not what we’re talking about right now. This is about you two being childish. Yes, you were hurt but Jean is not a titan, he can’t heal overnight. I don’t know why the fight started and I don’t want to because I’m sure it was for a ridiculous reason anyway.”

Eren was still on his nerves and he knew if he said anything, he would regret it – so he just kept quiet and stared at his shoes.

“You really don’t have anything to say?” you sighed. “Eren–, you should apologise. Both of–.”

“STOP! Stop pretending to care about me if all you want is go and check on Jean. Stop pretending you care about me at all – just, stop.”

“Eren–.” your voice quavered.

“And stop acting like my mother because you’re not. So, just leave me alone!” Eren yelled because storming out.

When you found Levi in his office, he was doing some paperwork with Kuchel on his lap.

“How did it go with Eren?” Levi asked you without looking up.

“Hm… not great.” you whimpered.

As soon as Levi heard your voice, he looked up and saw that your eyes were still red and puffy. He put Kuchel on the ground and came to embrace you. You continued to cry in his arms, putting your head on his shoulder.

“What happened?” Levi asked worried.

Levi did not insist on it when you refused to talk about it. Levi asked Sasha, Connie, and Jean to take care of Kuchel the rest of the day so he could spend the day with you.

You spend the day in your bedroom, switching between crying and sleeping. Levi stayed with you the whole time, with you clinging on him. After a few hours, you finally started to calm down and were ready to talk.

“Eren said that… it sounds ridiculous actually,” you tried to laugh, “he said that I wasn’t his mother which is true, I’m not.” you explained. “Is it weird? That I’m hurt because I consider Eren, and all of them, as one of my own children?”

“Eren’s an idiot. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Levi tried to reassure you.

Eren, on his side, went back to his room and stayed there for the rest of the day. After he calmed down and realised what he said to you, he started to regret it. He did not mean any of the words he said to you.

For the next few days, whenever you and Eren would see each other, you would just walk away. You did not know what to say to Eren, therefore you just decided to avoid him which is something everyone noticed. Eren really wanted to talk to you, he wanted to apologise but with you constantly walking away, it was impossible. Eren decided he would ask the captain’s help.

“I know she probably told you what happened.” Eren told Levi when he went to his office, “I just want to apologise, please?”

“Fine. She’s with Kuchel in our room.” Levi thought. “Then go and clean the stable!”

“Thank you.”

Eren run to your bedroom and went in without knocking. He found you reading a story to Kuchel and hesitated a second before calling your name.

“Eren!” you shouted surprised.

“I’m sorry, it’s just – I know you wouldn’t have opened the door.” Eren explained. “Mom,” Eren started before breaking down crying, “I’m sorry, please don’t ignore me anymore.”

“No cry.” Kuchel shouted, “ma-ma kiss, no cry.” she pulled your sleeve.

“Please don’t hate me.” Eren whispered.

“I could never hate you.” you said before hugging him.

Eren hold you so tightly that you could barely move.

“It’s ok,” you reassured him, “I could never hate one of my kids.” you admitted.

“So, you’re not mad right?”

“I’m not. It’s ok.” you patted his back.

“I didn’t mean.” Eren added, “I didn’t mean any of it.” Eren paused before adding “because I love you mom. I do.”

“Eren,” you smiled, “I love you too.”

“Lowe ma-ma me!” Kuchel shouted because you and Eren were too far away from her.

“I’m going to go now.” Eren said, “I still have cleaning duty.”

Eren left, and a sigh of relief left your mouth. Having him directly tell you that he did not mean it was a relief.

Jean Kirstein:

Levi had been thinking about having Jean to replace him as captain in a few years or even make him squad leader. Jean obviously proved himself to be a great leader – there was no excuse not to promote him to a higher rank. He never talked about that to anyone though, particularly not to you because he knew how worried you would be. After some time, Levi decided he would talk about it with Erwin.

“Are you telling me this because you want to retire?” Erwin asked him.

“No. I don’t to retire right now.”

“Okay.” Erwin took a moment to process what Levi just told him, “What did Y/N say?”

“Nothing.” Levi casually answered.

“Really?”

“I didn’t tell her anything yet.”

“Oh… Well, I don’t see any problems in making Jean a captain now or in a few years. He has a good sense of leadership. I think that’s a great idea.” Erwin stated.

“Bur?” Levi asked expecting Erwin to continue.

“No ‘but’, just…” Erwin took a deep breath, smiling slightly, “really excited to see Y/N’s reaction.”

“She’ll love that.”

After a few days, Levi decided to call you in his office at the same time as Jean to announce the big news he had. When Jean and you arrived, he sat down at his desk before explaining why he asked to see you.

“You grew up and learned a lot these past few months and years. You have every quality to make a great captain or even squad leader.”

“Oh,” Jean blushed, “thank you, but why are you telling me this?”

“I talked about it with Erwin, and he agrees with me that–.”

“Wait.” you cut Levi in his sentence, “are you seriously trying to make Jean captain right now?” you asked dumbstruck.

“If he wants, yes.”

“What?” you laughed nervously. “No! It’s… he’s a child! This is too much responsibility and pression for him.” you argued. “Jean,” you turned around to face him, “you’re not–.”

“Y/N,” Levi cut you, “he’s not a child anymore. You know how skilled he is on the field so why are you doing this?”

“Because being a captain is too much pressure! You are responsible for everything! Yes, it includes victories, but also every death of your friends and squad members.” you rumbled, “Jean, you’re not… you can’t do this. I refuse.”

“Y/N–.” Levi started but was cut short by Jean.

“You’re not my mother!” Jean yelled, “you don’t have the right to decide for me!” he added before leaving the room.

Silence prevailed in the room. Then suddenly you started to sob violently and collapsed on the ground. Levi slowly approached you and wrapped you in his arms.

“It’s ok.” Levi whispered, “he didn’t mean it.”

You spent the rest of the day in bed, regretting everything you previously said to Jean. Levi stayed beside you, trying to calm you down but it was not successful. At night, Levi decided to pay Jean a visit to see if he calmed down. When he knocked on Jean’s door, he heard a quiet ‘come in’. Jean was curled up on himself on his bed, with his blanket over him.

“I’m sorry.” Jean sobbed. “I– I.”

“You don’t have to apologise to me.” Levi said. “Tomorrow morning, you’ll come and apologise to Y/N because no one can understand you in this state.” Levi referred to his sobbing. “She’s sorry too, just so you know.”

Then, Levi came back to you and saw that you calmed down a bit, but he knew you were hurt. It was not the first time that one of the kids told you that. When Eren did, you were inconsolable and did stayed in bed for a few days.

The next day, Jean was up really early. He came in your office and waited for you inside, sitting on the couch. He waited a few hours, but you still were not there. You were eating breakfast and played a bit with Kuchel. When you finally walked in your office, you found Jean asleep on your couch. You took the blanket you kept for you at night and delicately put it on Jean, which did not work since he instantly woke up.

“Mom!” Jean said surprised and then immediately looked away.

Neither one of you knew what to say. You sat on the table in front of his, while he was still standing awkwardly.

“I’m sorry!” you both shouted at the same time.

“No!” Jean quickly added, “I didn’t– I didn’t mean it because it’s not true. You are. You are my mom and… I’m sorry, please don’t hate me.” Jean finished his sentence trying to hold his tears back.

“I– I’m sorry too.” you apologised and walked to him to hug him, “I’m sorry because I think you would make a great captain.” you tried to smile. “You are really talented, and it would be a waste not to make you captain.”

“No, if you’re not happy I don’t–.”

“I am happy, I was just scared.” you admitted. “You… you are my child and seeing you all grown-up and taking responsibilities… is terrifying. I don’t want to you to go through what Levi, and I did when we lost–.” you suddenly stopped, not wanting to talk about how many friends you all loss.

“I thought that you refused because you didn’t think I was good enough.” Jean admitted.

“You are good enough. You are more than that. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I’m sorry too.” Jean repeated.

//

Jean was always the first one to volunteer to take care of Kuchel when neither you nor Levi could. He loved spending time with her. He grew up without siblings, so since he saw you and Levi like his parents, Kuchel was like his little sister.

“Jean, thank you for doing this.” you gave him Kuchel, “Levi and I will be back in a few hours.”

“No problem, have a safe trip!”

Jean brought Kuchel back to his room and let her play with her toys. In the meantime, Armin, Eren and Mikasa came to see Kuchel too. Sasha and Connie came later on and stayed with Jean to play with Kuchel.

“Ja!” Kuchel screamed when she saw that Jean stopped playing with her.

“What did you say?” Jean asked shocked.

“Ja.” Kuchel pointed at Jean.

“That’s my name.” Jean said happily, “can you guys believe it?” he said to his friends.

“Oh, come on,” Connie replied, “It could be anything else.”

After trying to make Kuchel repeat it a few times, which was a failure, Sasha and Connie left Jean alone since they had cleaning duties to do before the Captain came back.

“I know you said my name earlier, even though you won’t repeat, it’s fine.”

“Ma-ma?” Kuchel asked.

“She’ll be back soon don’t worry.” Jean started to clean her toys. “You know, you’re very lucky to have them as your parents. They are awesome. I love them. I mean mom– no, da– no– I mean they’re great, you know?” Jean explained as if Kuchel could understand. “Never mind.”

Jean realised what he just said and started to think about if he should tell you or not. On one hand, he wanted to because he wanted you to know how much he appreciated you being there for him, but on the other hand, it was embarrassing.

“Kirstein.” Levi called him when he found him. “I still have to go and see Erwin so drop Kuchel to Y/N.” Levi told him.

“Da-da!” Kuchel yelled happily.

Levi kissed her before leaving. Jean walked to your office and knocked on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s me, Jean.”

“Come in.” you said, “Kuchel, hiii.” you hold your baby. “How was the day with her?” you asked Jean.

“Good. It was good.” Jean answered. “I have to mh… go. Sasha and Connie, they’re… they need me.”

“Oh, okay, thank–.”

“I love you, bye mom!” Jean said before left running.

“Ja lowe ma-ma.”

When Levi came back to your office, he found you sitting on the couch looking at the ceiling.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Jean just said he loves me. I can’t believe all my children are now opening to me now.” you pretended to cry. “Also, Kuchel just said Jean’s nam.”

“What?”

“Here, take Kuchel because I have to go and see Jean.”

“Ja!”

“Why?” Levi asked.

“He ran away before I could say anything.”

“A weirdo,” Levi looked at Kuchel, “the first name you said had to be his…”

“You always pretend to be annoyed by him, when I know for a fact you lo–.”

“Not listening, bye.” Levi closed the door before you could finish.

When you went to Jean’s room, he was obviously not here. Therefore, you just decided to take a piece of paper and then put it on his pillow.

When Jean came back to his room, he found a little piece of saying “I love you my boy, you didn’t have to run away.” And it was signed “Mom”.

Armin Arlet:

Armin’s new job was to teach the new cadets the expeditions’ strategy. When new cadets arrived in the survey corps, they were always surprised at how often Armin, Eren, Jean and Mikasa would call you ‘mom’ which ended up being their favourite topic during the day.

As usual, Armin would be early, waiting for the new soldiers to arrive. A group of friends were already there, talking way too loudly.

“You heard that too right?” one of them asked.

“Heard what?” another one asked.

“How the captain’s squad calls squad leader Y/N ‘mom’.”

“Yeah and?”

“Oh, come on. She obviously isn’t their real mom.”

“She isn’t?”

“Are you stupid? Anyway, I think that’s weird. I mean she has her own kid, right?”

Their discussion was cut short by other people arriving. Armin pretended he did not hear them and taught his class professionally. Near the end of the class, you decided to come so you could see if everything went well. You quietly took a place and watched until the end. When Armin was over, you walked to him started to congratulate him.

“Armin, you are a natural at this. That was really great!” you hugged him.

At the back, the group of friends who was talking about Armin and you earlier started to laugh, which Armin noticed. Armin immediately stepped away from you.

“Wh–.” you started.

“Stop doing that, you’re not my mother.” Armin stated loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Stop acting like my mother please.”

Every news cadets were looking at you both – the room was silent. Armin instantly regretted was he said and wanted to apologise but you just forced a smiled and left. You went to Levi’s office, who was with Kuchel.

“Hey. How was–.” Levi started to ask but stopped when he saw you trying to hold back yours tears.

“Armin said it. In front of so many people – it was… horrible.” you cried.

“Ma-ma?” Kuchel crawled towards you.

Levi stood up and came to hug you while Kuchel was grasping on your leg. 

“Y/N, they never mean it.” Levi reassured you.

“But…” you shook your head, “there was so many people watching us! No, they were staring at us.”

“Do you want me to go and talk to Armin?”

“No! It’s fine.” you sighed. “I mean… at this rate I’m used to it now.” you tried to laugh it up, but just ended up continuing sobbing.

“Ma-ma no cry!” Kuchel tried to comfort you.

“I’m not.” you smiled picking her up.

Levi and you spend the day playing with Kuchel – you tried to forget what Armin said and Levi wanted you not to think about it too much. Playing with Kuchel was one of the solutions. When it was time to eat, Levi suggested that he should just brought the food so you could eat in his office.

While Levi was gone, you gave Kuchel her toys and went to the bathroom. When you came back, Armin was playing with Kuchel.

“Armin. Hey.”

“Hey.” Armin mumbled. “Mh, I knocked on the door, but no one answered.”

“It’s ok.”

After a few minutes of silence, Levi entered the room with the food and stopped when he saw Armin. Levi looked at you and put the food on his desk.

“Do you need me to stay?” Levi whispered.

“Can you come back in ten minutes with Kuchel please?”

“Yeah.” Levi took Kuchel and left.

“I’m sorry about what I said.” Armin apologised looking at his feet. “I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! I never should’ve said it on front of these people. I never should’ve said anything at all because it’s not true. I don’t think that.”

“Then why did you? Because… It’s just that these past few weeks, I,” you sighed loudly, “I heard that a lot…”

“Mom…” Armin frowned before hugging you. “I’m sorry.”

When you asked Armin what made him say it, he just avoided the question, saying that it was not important. Then, Levi came back so Armin left. He asked you what Armin had said, you told him that Armin did not say much.

A few days passed and you started to forget about that incident, but Levi wanted to know why it happened in the first place. That was why he asked Armin to meet him in his office one morning.

“What happened that morning?” Levi asked him.

Armin instantly knew what he was talking about and immediately looked away.

“I–.” Armin hesitated.

“No need to lie to me. I’ll know and you would just be wasting our time.”

“I heard people talking.” Armin whispered weakly. “They were saying things… like how weird it was for us to call her ‘mom’. And I thought, maybe that’s true.” Armin explained slowly. “I don’t know, I guess I wanted to show to these people that… it wasn’t true.”

When Armin was done talking, Levi nodded and let Armin leave. Levi never told you because Armin asked him not to. Armin never told anyone else what happened either – it was now their secret.

//

After that incident where you got badly injured, the cadets were having a hard time at night as well, especially for Armin and Jean who had to witness your body being thrown away. Both of them saw your body falling from a high level without being able to help.

Armin felt guilty because if he were not for him, you never would have got injured. After you woke up, he never really talked with you because of that guilt. You tried to talk to him because you wanted to make sure he was doing great, but every time he saw you, he would just walk away.

He would very often get nightmares too – it would often be about you regretting saving him, about you telling him that he should stop talking to you. He was scared.

“Armin,” Mikasa called him, “are you ok?”

“Yes. Why?” Armin answered absent-minded.

“You don’t look like yourself since… you know. Did you talk to–.”

“No.”

“Go talk to her.” Mikasa advised her friend.

After a few days of doing nothing, Mikasa decided to come to you because she was worried for Armin.

“I think Armin isn’t… He’s not ok.” Mikasa told you one morning.

“He’s been avoiding me I know. I thought giving him some space would be good, but I will talk to him.”

“He’s probably in his room, he’s not going out much.” Mikasa informed you.

“Thank you.”

You walked to Armin’s room and opened it without knocking, knowing if you did, he would have pretended to not be here. Armin was still sleeping, so you took a chair and placed it beside his bed and sat down. You took the book next to his bed and started to read it.

“AAH!” Armin screamed when he woke up.

“Why are you screaming like this in the morning!” you quickly put the book down.

“What– why are you here?” Armina asked hiding under his blanket.

“Mikasa was worried about you, and so was I. Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t.”

“Armin,” you stood up so you could sit on his bed, “Just tell me what has been bothering you.”

“Do you hate me?” Armin asked slowly after a long silence.

“What? No! Why would I?”

“You were hurt because of me. I was careless and–.”

“Armin, I don’t hate you.”

“But you almost–. Because of me…”

“I don’t hate you; I could never hate you. And it was not your fault at all. It was mine; I was careless and I didn’t think before acting.”

“Ok, that’s… good.” then Armin mumbled something else.

“What?” you asked confused.

“I love you mom.” Armin said timidly, looking away.

“I love you too Armin.” you said hugging him. “Get dressed now, I will wait for you in the mess hall.”

“Don’t tell anyone I said that!” Armin screamed when you left.

He was really embarrassed about it, but he was glad he did it. You were glad too, and you did not tell anyone beside Levi – you were too happy to not tell him.

Mikasa Ackerman:

Levi and his squad were training at hand-on-hand combat as usual, only this time, Mikasa was so distracted she ended spraining her ankle. She did not tell anyone and walked on her feet as if nothing happened. Eren noticed though. He noticed how she was putting more weight on her uninjured leg.

“What’s wrong with you?” Eren asked her once they were alone.

“Nothing.”

“What’s wrong with your leg?” Eren insisted.

“Noth–.”

“It’s clearly swollen. Your ankle is twice the size of the other one!”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you tell mom yet?”

“No, why would I?” Mikasa asked.

“Because you’re hurt which means you’re not going tomorrow.”

“We don’t run or walk – I’ll be fine.” Mikasa told him before leaving.

Eren decided if to tell you himself because he knew how stubborn Mikasa was. He found you with Levi in his office.

“Eren, hi!” you greeted him.

“Talk.” Levi said annoyed. “Don’t just stand here silently.”

“She’s hurt but she doesn’t want to tell you. Her ankle, she probably sprained it when we were training. And she wants to go to tomorrow’s expedition like that.”

“Oh, I’ll go and talk to her then.” you told them. “I will be right back.”

You assumed Mikasa would be in her room at this hour, so you went to her bedroom. You knocked on her door and a few seconds, Mikasa opened the door.

“Can I come in?” you smiled.

“Mh, yes.”

You watched Mikasa carefully, but she was good at pretending to be ok. You sat on her bed before making small talk first. You asked her how the training went.

“Fine.”

“Eren told me that you hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine.” Mikasa answered coldly.

“If it’s true, I don’t want you to leave tomorrow.”

“I’m fine.” Mikasa repeated irritated.

“Show me your ankle.”

“No.”

“Mikasa.”

“I said I’m fine, so stop. It doesn’t even hurt and if I go to sleep right now, I’ll have enough rest.”

“No. It’ll be worse if you leave tomorrow so you’re not going. That’s an order.” you concluded.

“You’re not my superior!” Mikasa shouted.

“Oh, you think Levi would disagree with me?” you laughed sarcastically.

“Well, you’re not my mother to decide something like this!” Mikasa argued.

“Mik–.”

“No, I- I’m sorry.” Mikasa immediately apologised. “I’m sorry.” Mikasa repeated.

“It’s ok.” you whispered. “It’s ok.”

“I’ll stay here tomorrow.” Mikasa agreed looking down.

“Do you need me to stay here with you tomorrow?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Okay. Then I’ll go now.” you stood up.

“You’re not mad right?” Mikasa asked timidly before you left. “I didn’t mean it, I was just…”

“I’m not,” you turned around, “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Mikasa nodded and you smiled at her before closing the door. When you went back to Levi, Eren was still here as well.

“Mom! What did she say?” Eren asked.

“She’ll stay here.” you reassured Eren, “you can go now.”

“Are you ok?” Levi asked you once Eren left.

“Yes.” you paused a second before repeating, “Yes, I’m ok.”

“Ok.” Levi smiled slightly before walking up to you to kiss you.

//

After your accident, Mikasa became overprotective of you. When Levi started to work again after a few weeks, he was reluctant to do so because that meant leaving you. Fortunately, Mikasa told him that she would stay and help you until he was over with work.

Mikasa would bring you food and help you with some of your paperwork too.

“How are you feeling today?” Mikasa asked you.

“I’m ok thanks to you. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

Mikasa spent an entire week with you and Kuchel. Levi was glad that Mikasa was with you since he knew how serious she was about your safety. One night, when Levi came back pretty late, he found Mikasa sleeping in bed with you while Kuchel was in the middle, still awake. Levi gently took Kuchel and left with her.

“I guess I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” Levi told Kuchel when he put her to sleep.

When he came back, he noticed that neither one of you had a blanket one you so before going to sleep, he put one on each of you.

In the morning, Mikasa was the first one to wake up. When she realised that she was in your bed, she quickly left the bed so she could leave, but before she could she looked at you and said: “I love you mom.”, thinking you were asleep.

“Mmh, I love you too Mikasa, now go back to sleep.” you mumbled still half asleep.

Mikasa’s eyes widened and left quickly thinking she had dreamt it. Levi was the next one to wake up but decided to continue to sleep next to you when he saw that Mikasa was no longer in the bed.

“Morning.” you said half awake. “Hey. Where did you sleep?”

“Couch.” Levi answered holding you tightly.

“M’sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s ok.”

After you both brushed your teeth and washed your face – you went to eat. Mikasa was already in the mess hall with her friends, and she kept avoiding your gaze.

“What’s the matter with you?” Eren asked Mikasa.

“Nothing.”

“Mom!” Eren yelled, “come eat with us!”

Mikasa ate her breakfast really quickly before leaving. Eren and Armin were confused as much as Levi was. You were confused at first too, but then you remember what Mikasa had said to you before leaving – you excused yourself and went after her. You found her in her room, hiding under her blanket. You sat down and tried to take the blanket off.

“Mikasa come on, don’t be embarrassed.”

“How can I not?”

“Do you want to know a secret?” you waited for an answer but Mikasa did not say a thing, “You’re not the only one who said it so there’s no need to be embarrassed...”

“What?” Mikasa suddenly stood up. “Who did?”

“You know… some of them.” you admitted before leaving as if nothing happened.

“I need to know.” Mikasa murmured to herself.

[aquamarinescarlet]

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails. 

From none other than Isaac. 

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words. 

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga 😈

this series will probably have more than one part because tumblr only lets me upload ten images per post </3

warning: there are disgustingly long paragraphs in here and delusions

chapter 32

utahime’s first introduction!  akutami lets us know right off the bat that she thinks gojo is an idiot (so true).

chapter 32

i love the contrast between miwa and utahime’s reaction to gojo’s appearance.  

chapter 33

NAH BC TELL ME WHY HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO NOT GET HER ONE LMAOOOO!!  when he traveled overseas to meet with yuta, he picked up the tribal protection charms and thought to himself, “let’s get enough for the kyoto students as a gift since i am such a great and caring teacher, after all.  mmm, i should skip utahime to make her mad~”  this guy puts way too much effort into getting on her nerves.  his mind = utahime brainrot

chapter 33

she’s laughing at him here because he’s getting disciplined for being a lil shit.  i wonder...what would he say if he saw her laughing at him like that?  

chapter 33

this interaction between them is a little strange don’t you think?   i feel like over the years he’s learned how to pick up her mood based on the way she’s acting towards him.  you’re probably thinking, “well any person can figure out how a person’s feeling based on the way they’re talking or acting.”  yes, that’s absolutely true, but it’s kind of different with this.  she’s acting normal.  utahime has a rather indifferent expression on her face and what she says is spoken in a calm tone, but gojo still asks her if she’s mad at him.  it’s likely that he knows her well enough to be able to notice these subtle things.  even if she wasn’t actually mad at him, he was being considerate for a split second, then he went and said, “of course.  i didn’t do anything wrong and all.”  what a guy LOLOL.  to me, this implies that maybe he made her genuinely angry in the past to the point where he realized that he went too far, and thus decided to be more careful of her feelings.  she has definitely gotten annoyed at him so many times after that so whenever she seems angry, he probably asks himself if he took it too far.  i’m curious to see if he can pick up if she’s upset with something that’s not involving him.  would he console her?  how does gojo satoru console someone?  

despite him always annoying her, she’s still courteous and brings him a cup of tea during their talk.  she didn’t have to go out of her way to get tea for him but she did.  that’s the kind of person utahime is.  a kind and caring woman who would never put her students in danger.  in the anime they were sitting far away and not facing each other like they’re doing in the manga.  she also has her own tea cup.  i think that little panel of her placing the cup down on the table and him picking it up to take a sip is a nice little detail.  it just proves that her hating him most of the time isn’t actually pure hatred but annoyance because of his shenanigans and teasing.

chapter 33

i touched upon this a little bit in my previous post, but i wish to go more in depth about this panel.  first of all, he ends the sentence with her name twice.  two times too many, mr. gojo.  i like how they can be serious with each other too LOL.  i wish we got to see them talk about the traitors because they did figure it out together after all.  does it always end in bickering?  can they interact with each other like adults all the way through?  somehow, i feel like that’s not possible when it comes to these two.  furthermore, notice how gojo confides in utahime about his suspicions.  from what we know, she is the first person he brought it up to.  i mean, i guess he has to start investigating the schools and would need extra assistance to save time, but he could have done it himself if he really wanted to.  by deciding to ask for her help we know that he thinks she’s trustworthy, smart, and strong enough to face whatever considerable risks this task may entail.  

i didn’t point this out in my other posts but see how he makes a hand sign in the last panel when she throws the cup at him?  gojo is manually activating his infinity.  why though?  about a year after the whole star plasma vessel incident happened, gojo develops the ability to keep his infinity up at all times by using the reversed curse technique to consistently heal himself to prevent exhaustion.  this means that it really makes no difference whether he leaves it on or off.  there are a few times where we can witness someone actually touching gojo.  for example, yuuji giving him a hug.  did he turn his infinity off, or was it able to deduce that yuuji was not a threat?  the erasers and pencils shoko and geto threw at him during his demonstration of his new ability aren’t dangerous normally, but is it the speed that makes them dangerous?  even if it did hit him, it wouldn’t hurt.  how does the infinity know when to allow an incoming object to touch gojo?  i believe it is up to gojo himself to let things touch him; his infinity restricts anything and anyone.  some people say it could just be the fact that water is not dangerous to him, so therefore, he has to manually put his infinity up.  i thought this was a reasonable explanation as to why he put up the hand sign when the tea was thrown at him, but then i realized that it couldn’t be.  remember the second opening?  it’s raining and everyone is carrying an umbrella, then it pans to gojo with a bouquet in his hand and rain drops slipping off his infinity.  if he DID manually put his infinity up to prevent getting soaked then that implies that he chose to turn his infinity off.  you can argue and say that jujutsu high is a safe place with students so there’s no need to have his infinity there, but do you remember when he stepped on the ants in front of gakuganji and yaga?  the ants were perfectly fine after which insinuates that his infinity prevented his shoes from crushing the ants.  he most likely had his infinity on during the baseball game even though he was in a safe environment.  how does this long tangent relate back to utahime?  well, it simply indicates that gojo trusts utahime so much to the point where he can be vulnerable around her.  turning off his infinity symbolizes completely letting down his guard  in a way.  

how about what happens next?  utahime throws the tea at him, he turns on his infinity to deflect it, and he responds with, “scary!  hysteric women aren’t popular, you know!”  why would he even say that LMAO??  utahime doesn’t even try to deny what he said either.  she just hits him with the good old, “i am your senpai!”  could it be that he’s trying to poke fun of her relationship status?  maybe, maybe not.  doesn’t he like people a lil crazy?  he did say that all jujutsu sorcerers have to be a little crazy because they’re willing to put themselves in danger constantly.  

chapter 0 p.1

i wonder who he’s thinking of when he said that.  could it be utahime?  it seems like he’s reminiscing or thinking about someone.  he wears an amused expression on his face as he laughs - almost like he’s seen his fair share of how scary women can get :>>

chapter 34

the pattern behind gojo and utahime is called yagasuri “fletching,” a traditional japanese design.  this design is inspired by arrow fletching.  it's a lucky charm for weddings and other celebrations since it's based on the Japanese belief that an arrow shot once never comes back.  brides were given kimonos with this pattern for good luck during the edo era (1603–1868) to ensure they would not have to return to their original family home.  this pattern can have numerous meanings such as steadfastness or determination to achieve a goal, or a wish for the happiness of the bride.  there is a belief that a bow and arrow represent the fight against evil.  honestly, this meaning fits the narrative of the story.  utahime and gojo are unearthing the traitors that are feeding intel to the curse users and cursed spirits.  they are in the middle while the kyoto students surround them, which could mean that it’s their job as adults to protect these children from the grasps of evil slowly making itself more prominent.  do you also notice that the arrows are pointed toward utahime from gojo?  from all the images i’ve seen, the arrows are usually pointed downward.  what could this mean?  is gojo trying to protect her (in the future (?)) or does he have a big fat crush smh...

i think it’s a good time to mention utahime’s clothing.  she’s wearing miko attire.  miko are shrine maidens who were once thought to be shamans (you connecting the dots?).  in their service to shrines, miko used to perform spirit possession and takusen (in which the possessed person acts as a "medium" (yorimashi) to communicate the divine will or message of that kami (god) or spirit; also included in the category of takusen is "dream revelation" (mukoku), in which a kami appears in a dream to communicate its will).  this was back in the old days, of course.  to become a miko back then (shaman), one needed to have potential.  neurosis, hallucinations, odd behavior, and hysteria (HYSTERIA HELLO???) are some of the signs that a person is being called to shamanism.  when a miko is communicating with a kami (god) or spirit by acting as a medium, she is in a trance-like state, and so she must learn techniques to control herself when this happens.  chanting and dancing were used to accomplish this, so the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs, prayers, and magical formulas.  all of this could give us insight about utahime’s technique and explains why she’s good at singing :)  maybe she can’t control herself when she uses her technique which is why she isn’t shown using it because it should be used for dire situations.  i imagine being possessed by a spirit or god must consume a lot of cursed energy.  it makes sense that utahime and gakuganji wear traditional clothing.  they’re the staff of jujutsu high’s kyoto branch.  in chapter 0, kyoto is known as the sacred land of jujutsu.  it’s more traditional compared to tokyo.  if you want to learn more about miko, you should check out the wikipedia page!  

chapter 34

i swear he tries to annoy her every chance he gets.  i bet he sets a goal for himself to see how many times utahime lectures him about respecting his seniors every time he’s within the same vicinity as her.  at least he called her utahime-sensei!!!

chapter 40

this isn’t even a gojohime moment tbh...i just wanted to share a pic of them sitting next to each other HEHE.  why are they sitting next to each other anyway?  it’s not like they have assigned seating.

----

that was so long and i apologize for the gargantuan paragraphs you guys had to read through.  i’m writing this at 4 in the morning and i’m feeling borderline delirious so i apologize if there are any errors.  i’ll edit this when i have time <3

the next part should come shortly.

[tanniefm]

nasty | jjk (m)

summary - you're needy at a party and no one can help you except your boyfriend jungkook.

pairing - jungkook x reader

genre - established relationship

word count - 2.4k

song inspo - nasty by ariana grande

warnings - unprotected sex (BOOO), dirty talk, daddy kink, brief breeding kink, slight voyeurism (you essentially ride his thigh in front of everyone), explicit language, praise kink, subspace, drug and alcohol use (weed), brief mention of vmin, i guess kook also falls into domspace too i mean y'all are high so

a/n - i'm sorry this took so long school's been kicking my ass bruh. this is also very unedited since i originally wrote this while horny like a month ago kanjwbw. anyways yeah enjoy! ps. i am very bad at endings and summaries sigh

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°

“Pleaseeeee”

“Nope”

“But I need to so badly! Just please make me cum, Kook!”

“What did I say? Not ‘til later. At this rate I might not let you cum at all.” his words brought utter terror to your face. What did he mean not letting you cum at all? You've been so good all day! Just like he told you! This party fucking sucks anyway. As much as you love your friends coming over, there’s only so much you can handle before you start getting annoyed by their presence. Jungkook has been teasing you all day but the very peak of it was when he ate you out earlier like it was his last meal and at the very last second, decided to cease all contact from you and smile cockily. Asshole.

It doesn’t help that you've both been drinking and smoking a bit, so your horniness has only worsened since then. This mixed haze of being tipsy and high at the same time is just making you needier by the second. You’ve been clinging onto him and following him around your shared apartment the whole night while he laughed and chatted with your friends.

“You good, ____?” Jimin laughs. He out of everyone should know exactly how you feel, given him and Tae are constantly going at it, just like you and your beloved boyfriend.

You smile sarcastically, “Nah I’m perfectly fine, Minnie! Why do you ask?” you know exactly why he’s asking. You’re not really the best at hiding your emotions and your face says it all that you’d rather have everyone disappear immediately so you can fuck the shit out of the man you’re glaring at. He’s currently taking a few hits out of Hoseok’s “party bong” as he likes to call it. It looks very used and burnt out, you don’t know why he just won’t get a new one since you’re sure that’s some kind of safety hazard but whatever.

“No reason, just that you look like you wanna eat Jungkookie alive is all.” he smirks. You roll your eyes playfully and take another sip from whatever mixed drink Jungkook made you.

“He’s getting on my nerves.” you quip back. Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he laughs heartily. It seems like everyone finds your situation amusing but you. All you want is to have a proper orgasm! Is that so wrong! It feels like he’s punishing you and you haven’t even done anything! You go to sit on the couch with him, directly on his lap, while he watches Seokjin and Taehyung yell over Mario Kart. He automatically wraps his hands around your waist and smiles lazily.

“Heyy pretty girl.” he says gruffly. His voice always gets raspy when he smokes and your pussy throbs at his (and your) favorite pet name.

“Kookie,” you whine. “Please can we wrap this up and do something alone. Need you.” you start pouting in hopes he’ll finally cave. He chuckles and brushes a piece of hair from your face.

He leans in closely to whisper, “After they're done with this game, I promise I’ll take care of you, ok baby?” you look at him skeptically and hold up your pinky to ensure he means what he says. He giggles at your cuteness and wraps his long pinky around yours, kissing it to seal the deal. Your face immediately lights up at the prospect that you’ll finally get some dick. The more you think about it, the wetter you get. Maybe he’ll bring out the toys this time and use those on you. Maybe he’ll overstimulate you until you beg him to stop. Maybe he’ll let you take control since he’s been messing with you all evening anyway. The possibilities are endless and they cause you to squirm around on his lap. You quickly realize that your leggings are pretty thin however as you suddenly pause when you feel that your boyfriend is hard as a rock. Little did you know that he’s been suffering just as much as you have, he just likes to play with you a little to see how needy you could get. He can feel you throbbing through your leggings and it’s been driving him fucking crazy. He can’t wait for the guys to leave so he can fuck you in every room of this house.

He grips your hips tightly and gives you a warning look of “do that again and see what happens” you whimper and tuck your face in his neck. He smells so good. You can faintly smell the weed you two have been smoking but you can still smell his soft detergent and calming lavender he loves so much. You know his nose is sensitive so he only uses a small amount of cologne and it encapsulates him so perfectly. He pulls you closer and starts bouncing his knee slightly. Fuck. Now his thigh is consistently hitting your clit and your mind is getting fuzzier. The haze from earlier coupled with the fact that Jungkook is bouncing you like a baby is starting to make you whimper and moan a little louder than you’d like to. You know he’s fucking with you again. He loves seeing you like this. He leans down and reminds you Tae and Jin are almost done with their game and then you can moan and whine all you want. You nod hastily while you suck a mark into his neck to keep quiet. His knee keeps the same casual pace, as if your clit isn’t the main focal point of each bounce. He kisses the top of your head and laughs along at whatever the boys are arguing about as to not raise any suspicion. Although you’re pretty sure everyone can tell exactly what’s going on. The fact that everyone can clearly see you getting bounced on your boyfriend's lap is only getting you closer and closer. You bet you could cum like this.

“Ha ha! Fuck you, hyung! I told you I’d win!” Taehyung shouts jovially.

“Yeah whatever, brat! I’m definitely winning next time.” they both get up and stretch before informing both of you that they think they’ll call it a night. The rest of the boys agree and gather their stuff to head out. You hate to say it, but you couldn’t be happier that everyone’s finally leaving. Jungkook lifts you off his lap gently and to your horror, you can already see a damp spot forming on his sweats. He smirks and winks at you while he kindly escorts everyone out. Once the last person is gone and the door is closed and locked, he turns around and tells you to come here. You scamper over to him in a haste and attach your lips to his in an instant. He laughs at your neediness and backs you slowly to the couch. He sits down and puts you in his lap again while you both make out as if you’ve been deprived of each other. He grips your hips and grinds you against his erection that’s been straining against his pants for the better part of half an hour.

“My poor baby, was I too mean today?” he asks as he kisses down your neck and jaw.

“Mhm, I’ve been a good girl all day just like you said and you don’t even care.” you whine. He lifts his head and cups your face.

“Of course I care, baby. I’m so proud of you for being so good today. You want daddy to take care of you now, don’t you?” he says gently. It looks like you’re not the only one that fell into a bit of a headspace. You’re very aware that when Jungkook starts referring to himself as daddy that he’s already taken a dominant position. Meaning he’ll take very little shit from you. Not that you felt like being bratty today anyway. Good girls get rewarded and that’s exactly what you intend to receive. You nod and grind against him faster in hopes he’ll get the hint that you want him now. As always, he quickly understands and starts ridding himself of his shirt as you take off yours. Seeing all of his tattoos always does things to you. Especially the small bouquet of black roses he got for you. You still can’t believe he would get something so permanent on his body just for you but he was adamant that you were the love of his life. The memory made you emotional as you started to tear up slightly. You’re going to have to ask Hoseok what the hell was in that strain to make you so sensitive to literally everything. Jungkook stops unclipping your bra as soon as he sees your eyes well up.

His hands are right back to their position on your face. “Woah, what happened love? Are you ok?” you wipe your eyes and giggle bashfully and explain why you got so worked up. He smiled and kissed you softly.

“You know I love you, right? You’re so fucking cute. I love you so much.” he says as he leans his forehead on yours. Weed makes both of you so sappy. You can’t even find it in yourself to care as you bring him into another kiss. He continues to take off your bra and starts kneading your breasts in his hands. The action makes you whine and pull away from him.

“Daddy, I wanna cum now. Please?”

He chuckles and lifts you off of him to strip your leggings. His fingers trace over the damp spot of your panties and he pulls them back to see how wet they’ve gotten.

“My little girl completely soaked through these. Needy baby. If you wanted it so bad why couldn’t you just do it yourself, huh?”

“B-because I wanted to be good. M’ a good girl right?” his words confused you. Why would you take care of yourself when he does it so much better. Plus, wouldn’t he just punish you anyway?

“I know baby, you are a good girl. Besides, those tiny little fingers would just frustrate you wouldn't they? You need daddy to cum ‘cause my dumb babygirl can’t do anything by herself, can she?” his words make your lip tremble as you nod dumbly. He’s right! You couldn’t possibly do something like that by yourself. Only he can make you feel like this.

He smiles as you agree with no hesitation and pecks all around your face. This is your favorite place to be in. In his arms waiting for his instruction. Taking the lead is fun every once and awhile but being stupid and pliant is far more your speed. He makes you feel safe and adored. He makes you feel good.

His fingers swirl around your covered clit as you moan into his mouth. Your little noises and the feeling of his fingers getting slicker is making him painfully hard and he, too is getting impatient. He wiggles his hips and slides his sweats down to reveal to you that he’s been walking around with no underwear on. He’s been completely hard with no barrier other than his sweats. You feel like you could bust right then and there. As soon as you see his cock, you lick your hand and start stroking it slowly. Jungkook hisses and throws his head back.

“Little girl...don’t play with me right now…” you heed his warning and scramble to take off your panties so you can get him inside you as fast as possible. This is what you’ve been waiting for, and you’ll be damned if you fuck it up now. He steadies you as you prepare to sink down on him and he kisses you gently. The way he’s filling you is intoxicating.

“Fuck, this little cunt was made for me wasn’t it? My baby’s so perfect for me.” his words make you tremble. You both moan breathily once he’s bottomed out inside you. You grind back and forth slowly as you try to adjust to his length. Jungkook however, is just as impatient as you are. He halts your movements to grip your hips and lift you almost completely off of him and slam you back down. You gasp as he sets a pace for you quickly. Your walls clench as he groans out praises of how good you feel and how much he loves being with you like this. In his lap, bouncing on top of him, whining into his neck. He couldn't think of a better place to be. His hands slide down to your ass and grips it as he bounces you even faster. You moan loudly and bite on his shoulder in fear of getting another noise complaint from the neighbors.

“D-Daddy? M’ close. So so so so so close daddy please fuck!” your words are slurred since you literally cannot think properly. He laughs breathily. “I know baby, you feel so good. Fuck I wanna pump you full of my cum. Wanna get you pregnant.” his words only make you moan louder.

“Oh you like that? You like when I talk about filling your cute tummy with my cum? You want my babies, little girl? Hm?” your head bobs up and down as you nod. “Yeah- mm yeah want it so bad daddy please cum in me. I wanna have your babies please Kookie please. Wanna cum wanna cum wanna cum!” you whine. Seeing how absolutely wrecked you are is only getting Jungkook closer and closer. You look completely and utterly fucked out. If his baby wants his cum that's exactly what she'll get.

“Shh precious I’m almost there. Daddy's got you I promise. Rub your pretty clit for me, I wanna see my baby cum ok?” you immediately obey and spit on your fingers before shoving your hand between you two. You rub your swollen clit with quick flicks to get you to cum faster. You just wanna make Jungkook happy. You wanna be his good girl.

It didn't take long for your hand coupled with his cock pounding into your g-spot to get you to cum hard on him. Your limbs spasm and your vision goes white while you distantly hear Jungkook's moaned praises. He cums in you not long after with a whine and keeps thrusting a few times so you can milk him for all he's worth. You both pant heavily as his arms wrap around you tightly, wanting to be as close as possible. He pecks your head repeatedly and buries his face in your hair.

“I love you ____.” he sighs. You giggle and sleepily look up at him. “I love you more.”

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

My Tasha

Word count: 7334

Genre: Mostly angst but the ending is fluffy

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: A sort of suggestive scene? I think that's all (let me know if I need to add any)

Request: congrats on those 500’ love!!! they are well deserved for all of your amazing words 🥺 i was just thinking how cute it be for nat to take a liking to reader, so she tries all those “seductive” tricks the red room taught her, but r just reads it as a cocky fuckboy thing and rejects her? soft!nat appearing later to ask her out? 🥺

Summary: Natasha tries to seduce you at a party but you misunderstand, assuming she's just using you. Both of you mope before realizing what happened.

A/n: Finally I finished this! It was supposed to be 2000 words max but I got carried away and @teenwonder I blame you since you were the one who sent in this idea. I actually really like how this turned out, even if it differs from the prompt slightly so I hope you guys like it too because this probably took at least ten hours to write and I have lost way too much sleep over it. Enjoy!

Natasha looks in the mirror and lifts the corner of her mouth into a slight smile. She looks hot and she knows it, spending hours in front of the mirror perfecting the look. Her eyeshadow screams seduction and her lipstick highlights and colours the natural shape of her lips. Her lashes are curled to perfection and her makeup is applied with the technique she learned years ago that was guaranteed to make people stare. Her hair is straightened because it matches the look and also the last time she straightened it you had complimented her hair so she knows you like it.

Her dress is black, the colour that looks best on her, with a neckline that is dangerously low and the bottom riding dangerously high on her thigh. Her heels are her go to ones for anytime she wants to seduce anyone, they manage to work every time and have become a small symbol of luck for her and tonight she needs all the luck she can get for tonight’s party.

Usually people are easy to seduce, she just has to figure out the likes and dislikes of her target and play up to them. Tonight shouldn’t be much different except for the big added aspect of her actually caring. She’s never had to seduce someone she’s wanted to before so she knows it’s going to be harder than normal. Taking a deep breath she pushes the nerves away and smirks at her own reflection before going to meet everyone in the main room.

Your breath hitches when she walks in and you quickly look away so it doesn’t seem like you’ve been waiting for her arrival. She’s gorgeous, she always is, but tonight there’s something about her that’s different, like she put more effort than usual. You force yourself to stay calm and look away, pretending to still be interested in the conversation you had been having with Carol that you zoned out of the moment Natasha entered the room.

Carol’s looking at you strangely. “What?”

She gives a half laugh. “You think I didn’t notice you drooling over Natasha.”

“That obvious?” you ask and she nods. “Damn.”

“Damn is right, she’s smoking!” Carol whisper-yells, glancing over quickly and then back to you.

“Carol!” you exclaim aghast.

She laughs again. “Don’t worry I’m not trying to steal your girl, after all I have Valkyrie.”

“Yes and you constantly remind me of that.” you mumble which she ignores.

“I’m just saying that some people are already staring at her and are going to be all over her soon, you need to make your move quickly.” she finishes.

“I will.” you tell her, with no real intention of going to talk to her.

“Sure you will,” she says quietly at first before yelling in Natasha’s direction, “Hey Romanoff! Come here.”

Natasha is surprised and she hopes Carol isn’t calling her over because she noticed her staring. Logically she knows that Carol doesn’t want to date you and is dating Valkyrie but it looked far too much like flirting in her opinion. There were whispers and giggles and at one point you got all flustered and embarrassed. She doesn’t like how possessive she feels over you when she has no right to but somehow when it comes to you she can’t quite control herself.

Showing none of the inner thoughts that go through her head she weaves her way over to you. At first some of the team is staring because they got startled by Carol’s yell but a small glare gets them to look away again.

“Hey.” Carol greets when she walks over.

“Hey.” she says back with a smile and it’s not her fault if the smile is a little flirtier than normal and directed more towards where you’re standing. “What’s up?”

“I want to go find Valkyrie and see what’s taking so long for her to come back from the bar but didn’t want to leave Y/n all alone at a party and since you were alone too I thought it would be a great idea for you guys to spend the party together!” she explains quickly. “I’ll come back soon!”

With that she leaves and you and Natasha are left looking at each other awkwardly. She wants to say something to break the silence but all her earlier confidence is gone and she feels like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Which is half true, she is definitely not a schoolgirl but she’s never had feelings like this for anybody before.

“You don’t have to stay here.” you offer, feeling bad that she was forced to come here and babysit you. Carol is your best friend but sometimes you just can’t stand her. This is so uncomfortable and Natasha is looking at you weirdly and you just know that she’ll apologize and leave so she can spend the party with people who actually know how to have fun.

“I know but I want to.” she says and you can’t help looking away shyly and smiling. She smiles herself at your cuteness, now slightly more confident knowing that she can make you react like that.

---

She smirks as for the thousandth time that night you struggle to keep your gaze from dipping below her neck. The dress was a good choice and judging based on your lack of eye contact you appreciate it. She knows you find her attractive, it’s hard not to know that with you staring at her boobs every few seconds but as the night goes on she’s more and more hopefully that you want to date her. Your flushed cheeks and occasional stuttering give you away.

Some guy interrupts your conversation and she resists the urge to punch him. She doesn’t know what he’s here for and shouldn’t punch people for interrupting a conversation with a girl she really really likes (she doesn’t allow herself to consider love just yet).

“Hey beautiful.” he greets her, stepping into her space and ignoring you. Against her better judgment she does punch him and giggles as he staggers backwards muttering about bitches under his breath. Really the punch shouldn’t have affected him that much, it was light and not in an area that would cause serious injury, he was just weak.

“Holy fuck.” you whisper under your breath.

“That didn’t bother you, did it?” she rushes to confirm, not wanting to have upset you by resorting to violence. She wasn’t quite sure how to take your holy fuck, whether you meant it in a good way or not.

“It was so hot.” you breath and then immediately clamp a hand over your mouth once you’ve realized what you’ve said out loud.

You’re about to apologize but she speaks first. “Really?”

You don’t understand how she makes her voice sound so smooth and seductive but it makes your knees weak. You’re nervous but there’s no point in taking it back now and it does seem like she’s flirting with you so you continue.

“Yeah, what can I say I like strong women who don’t take shit from men.” you say, moving closer to her. You haven’t flirted very much before but judging based on how her eyes darken slightly you think it’s working.

She reaches out and runs her hand down the side of your face slowly, making you shiver. “Looks like we have the same type.”

She keeps her hand there for a second then leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away. You’re frustrated by how long it’s taking and try to take a small step towards her so you can kiss her. It doesn’t work well since you forgot you’re wearing heels and lose your balance, making her laugh, her breaths dancing over your lips. And then suddenly she’s not moving slowly anymore and her lips are on yours and it’s all you can think about. Your other senses are all dulled and you kiss her harder to prove that this is real.

After a few seconds she pulls back. “I didn’t want people to see,” she explains when she sees your pout, “hallway?”

You’re not sure if it’s even possible for you to do anything but nod and take her hand as she leads you out. Inside of taking you to the main hall she takes you to a side one that doesn’t get used often and only the avengers have access to. Glancing around again to make sure nobody notices she pulls you inside and immediately you’re kissing again.

She presses you against the wall and you grip her shoulders tightly, your nails dipping into her bare skin. When she pulls back again she notes in satisfaction that your lips are smeared with her lipstick and she applauds her choice of bright red. Inside of going back to your mouth she kisses along your jaw and your neck, the lipstick marking you. Happy with her work she moves back to your lips, humming happily at the feeling.

She likes it even more when she feels your mouth open to let her in, taking the opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue. You let out a small whine and the noise reminds her of where you are.

“Come up to my room?” she asks, smirking. You’re about to say yes when you notice her smirk. It bugs you for some reason, it makes it seem like she’s winning some sort of prize. Breathing heavily you look more closely at her and notice her heels. It’s her seductive mission heels. And then you realize she often wears a black dress to seduce people as well. You feel like a complete idiot, she doesn’t want you for anything more than a quick fling. This was a calculated move on her part.

“No.” you tell her firmly, only able to hold back your tears due to sheer anger. You thought that you were friends, how dare she try to play with your feelings just because she knew she could. Taking advantage of her shock you push past her, running out of the hall and back into the party. You look like a disaster so as quickly as possibly to rush to the doors and leave, running to your room, thankful that everyone seems too invested in their own conversations to notice you going.

You keep running until you reach your room. It didn’t look like she was following you but you don’t want to take any chances. Flinging off your heels because they’re uncomfortable you launch yourself onto your bed and curl up, pulling the covers over your head and putting your face into a pillow. You’re probably getting her lipstick all over right now but you don’t care, you don’t have enough energy to care right now.

You berate yourself again for how stupid you are. You got so caught up in your own emotions that you didn’t even consider that it didn’t mean the same to her as it did to you. It’s so obvious in hindsight. How after one kiss she wanted to sneak away so nobody saw, her glance back at the room before you entered the hall. She wasn’t looking for a relationship that much was clear. She invited you to her bedroom, not on a date.

You try to reason with yourself to make the pain go away but it doesn’t. You weren’t super close but you considered her a friend. Apparently she didn’t consider you one if she was willing to put your friendship aside for sex. You briefly consider that maybe she didn’t know about your feelings but you shake that thought off. She’s smart and reads people easily, she knew she just didn’t care.

You hate the tears that roll down your face. You can’t tell if they’re from sadness or anger and it doesn’t matter. Nothing seems to matter right now. Sobs wrack your body harder and you scream silently into your pillow. You hate this so much, you hate crying and you wish you could hate Natasha but you can’t. You hate yourself for letting yourself get hurt like this though.

---

Natasha watches you leave. She wants to run after you but the look on your face when you pushed by her stops her. You looked so disgusted that you had just made out with her and she can feel her heart breaking into a million pieces just thinking about it. She doesn't know what she did to get it. It’s obvious that you regretted kissing her but it hurts that you seem disgusted by it.

She allows herself a few moments to stand there and try to comprehend what just went on, a single tear dripping down her face. Swallowing hard she wipes it away and takes a breath to collect herself. She makes sure her dress is straight and runs her fingers through her hair so it doesn’t look too wild.

It doesn’t really matter what she looks like, she’s planning to slip out the back of the hall, the opposite way that you went, so it’s unlikely anyone will see her but she wants to be prepared on the off chance that the halls aren’t empty. Biting her lip to stay calm she walks out the end of the hall and slowly makes her way to her room.

She feels so stupid. She’s not even mad at you for feeling disgusted she’s mad at herself. She got so caught up in her own feeling that she never stopped to think about the fact that you don’t like her back. For a moment it seemed like you did but that was probably you being too nice to say no to her.

Her heels seem to mock her as she walks up the stairs with the way they clip clop. So much for lucky heels, she’ll never be able to use them again without remembering how badly she failed. She tugs on her dress from both the top and the bottom, trying to pull it longer in both directions. She felt so confident in it earlier in the mirror and especially when she caught you staring but now she just feels dirty and slutty.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” she mutters out loud to herself when she finally gets to her room. Looking in her mirror upon entry only makes things worse. She’s lucky that she didn’t see anyone in the halls because even after her attempts at cleaning up she looks like a mess. Her makeup is smudged all over and she can see the upset written plainly on her face.

Usually it’s easy to hide her emotions but usually she doesn’t feel such strong ones. You make her feel and she hates it. Only earlier today she loved that you made her feel. She loved the way her heart fluttered thinking about you and how she wasn’t always perfectly composed. You made her feel normal. But now she hates the way her heart betrays her, happy at even the thought of you.

Her only option right now is to forget and she thanks herself for always keeping a bottle of vodka in her room. A bad habit perhaps, but she rarely drinks from it and it is perfect for this situation. Drinking doesn’t help much, even after a while the hurt is still fresh in her mind, but it stops her from overthinking. When she eventually leaves the bottle and slips into bed it’s nobody’s business but hers if she cries herself to sleep.

---

You bury yourself deeper into your covers when you hear knocks at your door, hoping that whoever it is will go away soon.

“Y/n open up!” you hear Carol shout, still pounding on the door. “Unless Natasha’s with you, don’t think I didn’t notice you left the party earlier.”

Carol’s mention of Natasha makes a lump form in your throat and suddenly you feel the sudden urge to take a shower and wash all of her off you. You must have stayed silent for too long because Carol’s knocking stops and she speaks again.

“If you don’t say anything in five seconds I’m coming in.” she tells you.

You don’t know if you want her here or not. Carol is always good at making you cheer up but you feel embarrassed to tell anybody what happened.

“Four.”

Carol would understand though, she’s never been one to judge people for things and she was the one who helped push you towards Natasha, telling you she liked you back.

“Three.”

You realize that Natasha’s lipstick is still all over you and you’re still wearing the dress from last night. It’s too late to fix the clothes but you try to wipe the lipstick from your neck as quickly as possible (spoiler, it doesn’t go very well).

“Two.”

You’re still not sure if you want her to come in so you open your mouth to try to tell her to go away but the lump in your throat prevents you from speaking.

“One, I’m coming in now.” she says, opening the door. “Is that Natasha’s lipstick?”

It’s too much and you get overwhelmed, bursting into tears. Her grin of triumph from when she saw the lipstick quickly disappears and she rushes over to comfort you, wrapping you in a big hug.

“Do I have to kill her?” she asks, when you’ve calmed down a little bit. If you didn’t know Carol enough to know she’s actually a huge softy you would think she is dead serious.

“No,” you tell her, managing a weak smile at how quickly Carol comes to your defense.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “You have her lipstick all over you and you’re crying because of her. What did she do wrong?”

“It’s not her fault,” you protest. Natasha and Carol are friends and you don’t want them to stop being close because of you.

“It’s not her fault you’re crying?” Carol asks skeptically.

“I-um, she,” you stumble over your words because technically it is her fault you’re crying. “She didn’t mean to.” you finally settle on saying.

Carol doesn’t look any happier with the situation than she did before. “Please tell me what happened Y/n so I can go beat her up for you. Did she try to force herself on you or do anything you didn’t want?”

“No.” you say, shaking your head. Natasha may have only been looking for a one night stand or short fling but you can confidently say that she would never do that.

“Okay, then what did she do to make you so upset? It doesn’t look like she rejected you.” Carol is both stubborn and curious and you sigh knowing you’re not going to be able to get out of this conversation without telling her what happened.

“At first it was really nice, we were talking and then we were kissing. But then-” you pause and take a deep breath as Carol rubs a hand comfortingly on your back. “But then she asked if I wanted to go up to her room.” you pause again, trying not to cry for the second time this morning.

“What did you say?” Carol asks softly, knowing this is hard for you.

“I almost said yes, I was planning to say yes,” you tell her, “but then I looked down at her heels.”

“Her heels?”

“She was wearing the heels she always wears for missions where she has to seduce shady old men.” you explain. “And her dress seemed different than normal, like one she’d wear on a mission and she was smirking at me, like she got exactly what she wanted.”

“She treated you like a mission.” Carol states, a hard look in her eye. “That bitch.”

“Carol,” you warn, “you’re her friend too.”

“And as her friend I’m going to give her some friendly advice.” She emphasizes the word friendly giving the impression that it wasn’t going to be friendly at all.

“It will only make things worse.” you tell her. “I just want to forget about it.”

Carol keeps the hard look but softens a little, smiling at you. “Okay, whatever you want. We could spend the day watching movies and eating ice cream?”

“Okay.” you tell her. You’ve never been heartbroken before but you’ve seen movies and apparently this is what everyone does.

“I’ll go get the ice cream while you pick a movie.” she tells you, standing up. “I’ll even watch a disney one if you’d like.”

You give a halfhearted cheer, trying to convince Carol that you’re excited. She frowns as she leaves the room, that cheer was obviously fake. Any other time and you would be beyond happy that she was agreeing to watch Disney movies with you, you’ve been begging her to for almost a year. She can’t help but feel anger at Natasha and anger at herself. Anger at Natasha for playing with your feelings but anger at herself for pushing you to be with Natasha. She should have realized Natasha wouldn’t treat you right but she was so caught up in trying to pair you together that she didn’t see it.

---

Natasha wakes up as normal, feeling a headache forming already. Glancing towards her alarm clock she sits up in shock when she reads how late it is. She’s never in bed after noon. She groans when she realizes sitting up that quickly was not a good idea and makes her feel nauseous. She takes a few breaths, in and out, to calm herself and tries to remember why she drank so much. She was upset, she remembers that. She was upset because her plan didn’t work.

She feels a sharp pain in her heart when her mental blocks seem to go away and she remembers everything that happened, how the night had been going so perfectly and she had felt so happy only for it to all come crashing down when you ran away, disgusted that you kissed her.

“Stupid.” she tells herself, getting out of bed. She reminds herself of that as she goes about her normal morning routine, washing her face, brushing her teeth and getting dressed. She was so stupid to risk your friendship for something more, now it would be a miracle if you still wanted to be around her. Even if it hurt to pretend you hadn’t kissed she would go back to being friends with you in an instant if you still wanted her. She tries not to think about how big of an if that is.

When she is presentable she decides to head down the kitchen and grab some food. It’s been awhile since she last ate and there’s no use in trying to hide away and avoid her problems; she will either see you and have to confront them or you won’t be there. She knows that hiding away will only make things worse and appear weak, if she leaves her room and pretends everything is normal it will make her seem less hurt than she is.

“Hi Natasha.” Tony says in a weird voice when she enters the kitchen, waggling his eyebrows. She does her best not to show her obvious disappointment that almost everybody is here. The one upside is that you’re not.

“Hi Tony.” she says tiredly, walking over to grab a piece of bread and plopping it in the toaster.

“So Natasha,” he starts, oblivious to her unrelaxed mood, “how was last night?”

Natasha whips around lightning fast, staring at him. “What do you mean?”

He couldn’t possibly have heard, could he? She had hoped to talk to you before word got out about the rejection, to try to keep it on the down-low because the guys would never let her live it down. She assumed you wouldn’t tell anyone but you did leave the hall in the direction of the party so maybe you decided to stay.

“I mean with Y/n.” he says casually as Natasha fights to keep a straight face as her heart beats wildly in her chest. “Don’t think we didn’t notice how you both left early.”

Natasha lets out an almost unnoticeable sigh of relief. He didn’t know anything important.

“Well that may be the case but I can assure you nothing happened.” she tells him.

“Then where is she now?” Tony challenges.

“I don’t know, if you haven’t seen her she’s probably in her room.” Natasha responds smoothly. It’s just her luck that after being rejected by the girl of her dreams Tony thinks they got together.

“And where were you?”

Natasha gives him a deadpan stare. “My own room.”

He scoffs. “First of all you could be lying to us, I know you spies are good at that. But if you aren’t you need to get some balls and ask her out already.”

Natasha scowls. “A man’s balls are the weakest part of his body, I am good without them.”

Tony has enough self preservation to step back for a second. Natasha lets him think that her annoyance is solely over his sexist statement but really it wasn’t that bad and she’s just upset that she can’t have you so she really doesn’t want to be talking about asking you out.

“You should.” Clint speaks up.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Not you too.”

“See Clint agrees with me and I bet the others do too.” Tony says smugly. Natasha lets her eyes move slowly around the room and one but one they all look away when she catches their eye, showing her that while they are too nervous to outright say it, Tony is right and they do agree.

“I don’t care about that,” she says, “I am not and that’s the end of the story.”

“What not?” Tony persists. “You like her, you can’t deny that, so give me one good reason not to.”

“Because she wouldn’t want to and I respect that.” Natasha says calmly. Inside she feels her stomach twisting and she wants to break something. She may be good at hiding her emotions but this conversation is proving to be next to impossible.

Tony scoffs again. “There’s no way, that girl is so in love with you it’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is that you assume things about other people and can’t let this go.” Natasha tells him icily. “You don’t know what she’d say.”

“Then you don’t know either.” Tony counters.

“Then why did she say no when I asked her out last night?” Natasha snaps at him. There are gasps all around the room and to her mortification she is barely holding in the tears that spring to her eyes.

“What?” Sam asks in disbelief.

“I asked her out, she said no and that’s that.” Natasha explains, trying to keep her composure but failing when a tear falls down her cheek. “Excuse me.”

She hurries out of the room, no longer able to handle the talk of asking you out and the disbelieving stares. As she gets back to her room and lies in bed once more she notes in annoyance that she never got her toast. Not that she’s hungry anymore anyway. She doesn’t feel anything anymore except sadness and emptiness. She knew her feelings for you were strong but now that she knows for sure that you don’t want her they feel even stronger and it makes her realize just how much this meant to her and how much she lost.

---

“Hey.” Carol greets as she walks in the kitchen and heads straight for the freezer.

“Morning Carol.” Bruce says, looking shocked when he sees the amount of ice cream she’s holding. “Ice cream for breakfast?”

“It’s for Y/n.” Carol explains.

Tony’s expression turns dark. “What on earth does she need it for?”

“Girl problems, also known as none of your business.” Carols says, in an admittedly sassy voice.

Tony glares. “By girl problems do you mean what happened with Romanoff last night.”

He may tease Natasha but she was like family to him and he would not allow your feelings to be coddled while you stomped all over hers. He doesn’t care if you feel bad for rejecting her, you had flirted and let her on for too long and feeling bad was the least you deserve.

In an instant Carol is across the kitchen and inches from his face. “How do you know?”

“Hey, calm down.” Bruce says, stepping in when he notices Clint and Sam have both tensed up, presumably to defend Natasha’s honor. Even though he’s a man himself he doesn’t understand them sometimes, Natasha was more than capable of taking care of herself and starting a fight between Tony and Carol, the two most stubborn on the team, would only be a headache for weeks to come.

“How do you know?” Carol asks Bruce, thankfully stepping back from Tony.

“She was here a few minutes ago and told us.”

Carol curses under her breath. “That bitch.”

“Hey!” Clint says loudly. “If anyone is a bitch here it’s Y/n.”

“Yes because it’s all Y/n’s fault.” Carol says sarcastically.

Sam decides he’s had enough of Carol. “Yes actually, it is.”

“Bullshit.”

The three of them go back and forth with Carol, mainly cursing and getting a little off topic.

It’s when Carol calls Tony an idiot that Bruce speaks up. “You weren’t here to see Natasha cry.”

“What?” Carol turned to face Bruce, shocked. He isn’t one for petty arguments so she believes what comes out of his mouth. But why would Natasha cry? It doesn’t make sense, she was the one who broke your heart, not the other way around. “Natasha never cries.”

“Well she just did.” Tony says but it’s not in a confrontational tone anymore. He’s not sure what Carol knows but it’s obvious she didn’t know fully what happened.

“Why?”

“It was partly my fault,” Tony admits, “I was teasing her about asking out Y/n and she kept saying no and eventually snapped and told us that she did last night but Y/n rejected her.”

Carol scrunches her brow in confusion. “That’s not what Y/n told me- OHHH.”

“What?” The voice comes simultaneously from all four men at once.

“They are both idiots.” Carol says, smiling and laughing for the first time since entering the kitchen. “They are both huge idiots that don’t know shit about feelings.”

“What?” Tony asks again, wanting to know what Carol’s thinking.

“Okay I’ll tell you but don’t interrupt.” Carol warns and looks at all of them to make sure they nod in agreement. Once she is satisfied she starts. “So this morning I found Y/n in tears and covered in Natasha’s lipstick. Apparently they had fun at the party last night and then snuck away to makeout. Y/n was upset because Natasha asked her up to her room instead of on a date and she noticed that Natasha was wearing her mission heels, do you know them?”

“The ones that she uses to seduce old men for Shield?” Sam asks just to make sure.

“Yep.” Carol confirms. “So anyways Y/n is upset because she thinks that she was just some sort of challenge to Natasha so she left her there…”

“...but Natasha was actually serious about her.” Clint finishes.

Tony laughs. “They really are idiots.”

“I am definitely telling this story at their wedding and to their future kids.” Sam says, also laughing.

“Well first they need to actually talk to each other about this.” Bruce points out, lowering the happy mood of the room. “Right now they’re both in their rooms miserable and feelings like the other doesn’t want them.”

“We should get Natasha to talk to Y/n,” Carol suggests, “because I know that Y/n won’t believe us unless Natasha is the one to tell her.”

“Okay I volunteer to talk to Natasha.” Tony suggests.

“No.” Carol tells him.

“Well you’re Y/n’s best friend so she won’t want to talk to you either right now.” he counters.

“Yes but you’re also a horrible option, I think Bruce would be best for this.”

Bruce looks around the room. “Me?”

“That does make sense,” Clint agrees with Carol, “out of all of us you’re the best at calming people down and she’d be most likely to believe you quicker.”

“But-”

“No buts Brucie, don’t you want to see them together?” Tony pleads.

“Yeah come on Brucie,” Sam mocks Tony, “do it for love.”

Bruce sighs as he watches Tony pout and Sam flutter his eyelashes ridiculously. “Fine.”

“Get straight to the point,” Clint advises, “because she will kick you out if you don’t.”

“Okay.”

Bruce leaves the kitchen to head to Natasha’s room. It took ages for him to be convinced to join the avengers and every day he can’t tell if he regrets his choice or loves his choice. Certainly no other job in the world would force him to go talk to his scary assassin coworker so she and his other coworker can get together. He really isn’t paid enough for this.

A knock startles Natasha. She didn’t think anyone would come after her because she assumed they would all be too scared when she’s in a bad mood.

“Who is it?” she calls out.

“Bruce.”

“Bruce,” she sighs, “I’m sorry but I need to be alone right now, I hope you of all people can understand that.”

“No.” he responds, surprising both her and himself with how determined his voice sounds.

“Bruce-” she starts but he interrupts.

“Hear me out first Natasha,” he begs, “please.”

She thinks about it for a moment before giving up and sighing, she’s not in the mood to spend time arguing. “Fine, but you have to stay outside the door.”

“If that’s what you want.” he agrees, pausing a second to figure out how he wants to word things. “I just came back from an interesting conversation with Carol in the kitchen.” he settles on saying.

“Oh?” She tries not to think about what that means. Carol is your best friend and after her scene in the kitchen this morning she doesn’t think there would be any other reason he would bring her up.

“She was getting ice cream for Y/n because apparently she’s upset.” he offers as a means of explanation.

“Oh.” she says again and it’s so quiet she doesn’t think he heard her. “You can tell Carol that I’ll apologize to Y/n tomorrow, I need to gain control of myself first.”

She never thought about how it would be from your end of things. She forced you into more than you wanted and tried to ask you out and she selfishly focused on her own feelings when you probably were upset that she kissed you. Or you thought you would lose her as a friend. She doesn't think she is capable of talking to you without breaking down right now but in a few days she’ll be fine and able to pretend nothing changed.

“That’s not what she was upset about,” Bruce tells her, “Carol says she was upset because she thought it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“What, why?” Natasha can’t help but let her interest be taken. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up, what Bruce said could mean a lot of different things.

“I feel like I’m in middle school and there’s broken telephone being played between two crushes.” Bruce jokes.

“Bruce, tell me why.” Natasha demands. Her voice is soft but they both know if Bruce stalls any longer she’ll drop the sweet act.

“Well Carol said she said that it seemed like you were acting as if she was your mission to seduce and not like you actually wanted to be with her.” Bruce says, relaying the information.

“Crap.”

Bruce waits for Natasha to elaborate but she doesn’t say anything. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yes, thank you Bruce,” she says, “I need to go fix this, you can leave now.”

He can’t help but feel relieved as he speeds away down the hall. He is never going to do anything like that again, it was way too awkward. He still doesn’t understand how the others forced him to do this, damn his heart for being persuaded it was a good cause. The one upside is that talking to Natasha did seem to work and with any luck she’d be able to fix her mistakes with you. If she didn’t he did all this for nothing and may very well hulk out.

---

Natasha paces back and forth in her room. If Bruce was right (and she has no reason to believe he would lie) you didn’t run away because you didn’t like her, you ran away because you thought she didn’t like you. She winces when she thinks about it. Looking back she can see why you were mistaken and thought she didn’t have true feelings for you because she did treat you like a mark. She analyzed what hairstyle and dress you would like and wore her good luck heels. Even the way she talked and acted was calculated to be exactly what you’d like.

She’s stupid, so stupid and if she had just asked you out in a normal way instead of trying to seduce you she could be on a brunch date with you right now. It had never occurred to her to try it any other way, she was taught that seducing was the easiest way to get people to like you so why should it be different for a normal date? In hindsight using red room techniques to get a date is a horrible idea and she can’t believe she didn’t see it before. Maybe she hasn’t shaken off the red room ideals as much as she thought she had.

The thought scares her, her entire life upon leaving the red room has been dedicated to being a force for good, the opposite of everything the red room stood for so to realize that they still have their claws in deeper than she thought is terrifying. She takes a deep breath and tries to make it go away, which is mostly successful as the thought is reduced to the back of her mind. She can take her thoughts and analyze them later, which is another thing the red room taught her to do she notes, but right now she has to focus on the thing that’s most important, fixing her mistake.

As she walks through the halls to your room she runs through things she should say in her head but nothing sounds right. Perhaps it’s for the best though, that way you can tell she’s genuine and not performing another script. She pauses as she reaches your door, finding herself almost shaking with nerves. What if you don’t want her anymore or Bruce misunderstood or worst of all you still think she doesn’t care?

She almost turns around and goes back, unfamiliar with this type of fear but she knows that if she does all chances of fixing things and having a relationship with you will be reduced to zero. Taking a deep breath she turns the knob and pushes the door open.

You don’t look right away when you hear the door open, too lazy to care. “What took you so long, you were supposed to be back with the ice cream ages ago.”

“I-”

You spin around quickly. “You’re not Carol.”

“Nor do I have ice cream.” She tries to joke but it falls flat.

“Why are you here?” you ask and she winces. It’s blunt and straight to the point, your tone quiet but practically screaming at her to get out.

Since you got straight to the point she decides to do the same. “To ask you out.”

You must look even more shocked than you feel because she quickly jumps in to explain. “That’s what I was trying to do at the party last night, although I know you assumed that I didn’t mean it. I know you noticed the heels and I know I was smirking and it seemed like I was playing you but it really was genuine, I was just trying to do it the wrong way. I was always taught in the red room that to get people to like you romantically the best way to do that is to seduce them but obviously that is wrong and I didn’t realize until too late.”

There’s a lot of information to take in but your mind gets stuck on one question. “How do you know all that about how I felt?”

“Carol talked to Bruce who talked to me.” she says, looking slightly embarrassed at how elementary that sounds. “So?”

“So what?” You know she wants to know if you’ll go out with her for real and you really want to immediately say yes but you also want to hear her ask you properly.

She seems to understand. “Will you go on a date with me Y/n?”

You hesitate one moment before responding. It’s unnecessarily mean but you just spent a good portion of last night and this morning crying over her and besides, she looks absolutely adorable as she shifts her weight from side to side nervously. She looks exactly how you want her to look, no makeup and wearing sweatpants. It’s natural and genuine and everything you would have loved to see last night.

“Yes.”

“Oh thank god.” she laughs in relief, the pitch of it breathier than normal.

“I like it when you do that.” you tell her.

She furrows her brow, confused. “Do what?”

“When you laugh like that or wear old clothes, like you’re not trying to impress me.” you explain.

“So when I do the opposite of what I did last night?” she asks, laughing at herself for being so stupid. Of course you didn’t fall for all the acts, if you did she wouldn’t like you as much as she does. You make her feel different and that’s a good thing, she shouldn’t have to act around you.

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong last night was hot,” you tell her, “but it’s not you. That’s agent Romanoff putting on whatever mask she needs to be for the night, this here is my Tasha.”

“Your Tasha, huh,” she teases, “possessive much?”

“Sorry.”

“No,” she tells you, “I like it. I don’t need to put a mask on around you because you’re you and I am your Tasha. But you’re also mine.”

“All yours.” you confirm and she visibly shivers. “Apparently I’m not the only possessive one.”

“Apparently.” she says looking at you in a way that makes heat rise to your cheeks.

“Since we wasted time last night maybe we could start with a movie date right now?” you suggest shyly, changing the topic.

“Well we do have time to make up for.” she agrees, sitting down on the bed beside you. “What movie?”

“Mulan.” you tell her pressing the remote to drop the tv down into your room. There were definitely benefits to living with Tony.

“A disney movie?” she asks skeptically.

“Have you seen it?” you ask already knowing the answer before she shakes her head. “Then don’t knock it, it’s a great movie.”

“If you say so.” she says, still slightly skeptical but much more open to it. Even if the movie is garbage she doesn’t think she’d mind watching it with you. She definitely doesn’t mind it when your head drops onto your shoulder and you fall asleep, tired from the emotional rollercoaster you just went on. And when the movie ends she doesn’t move, happy to have you there, even when hours later her shoulder is all tense and cramped. It scares her how much she feels for you already but it also feels freeing, she knows she is not just the product of the red room because their biggest rule is to not fall in love and she’s definitely going to break that soon, if she hasn’t already.

---

Taglist: @fayhar@xxxtwilightaxelxxx@acertainredhead@madamevirgo@megaqueenmaeve@cherryblossomskye@aaron-despair@chickenhavewisdom@emril-osvigne@nyankitty987@agathaharkness-simp@midnight-lestrange@usernames-are-difficult (couldn't tag)@thewidowsghost@nyx-aira@stephanieromanoff@Satxnsupreme@likefirenrain@wlwlovesreading@natashadeservedbetter@stop-drop-and-drumroll@peggycarter-steverogers@casperlikej@redswing@mochamoff@king-star@blackbat2020

[yesimwriting]

Hi!!! I was wondering if you could do like a short story post or something I wonder how Our General Kirigan would react to a shy reader? Would he tease her? Be frustrated with her? And how would she react? Idk maybe just a thought 😅 I asked you because i really like your writing and I feel like you would really do a good job and I like the way you portray the General. 😊

a/n i have been crying/feeling shitty for the past two days for no reason!! so i thought it might make me feel better to try writing headcanons! i have SO MANY half done requests/fics but as of recently i hate everything that i write!! so i thought i'd work on this request that lends itself to headcanons

also im glad you like my writing :))

--

General Kirigan with a shy! reader headcanons:

- First things first, I think how he interacts with someone shy that he sees as a (potential) romantic interest varies per situation. Like generally, he finds the timidness kind of soft which is so different from what he's used to that he finds that aspect kind of endearing.

- He'd never admit that at the beginning, but the more time you spend with him the clearer it becomes to you because of how he acts when you're alone together

- At first, he'd hold onto his usual stoic disposition, but after realizing that at the end of the day your shyness is genuine and not an attempt to seem meek in order to trick people/him he'd begin to tease you about it when you two are alone.

- The first time he makes a comment that's just a little,, kinda-almost suggestive (a comment about how he wonders what it'd be like to be a Heartrender so that he could hear the change in your heartbeat every time you shied away from something) you're too confused to be embarrassed for like two seconds.

- You're basically that meme that's like did I hear that shit righttt??

- So you meet his gaze, and there's absolutely nothing but warm confidence there and you realize that he had in fact,,, said that.

- You hold his gaze for a moment out of protest (which is an incredible feat) and then you have to drop your eyes to the floor. You mumble some comment about how his ability to summon shadows isn't exactly a boring skill.

- Your reaction is so soft,, Kirigan can't help but be endeared even further. Something he wasn't exactly expecting and isn't too thrilled about. He doesn't think being shy makes you weak,, but he's extremely wary about how you're perceived and how people may treat you because of it.

- He doesn't doubt his ability to protect you, but he doesn't want to be distracted,, not with all he has to do.

- Still, he can't help mumble comments whenever there's a brief pause and you two are alone

- Meanwhile, you're starting to notice that now more situations keep coming up when you're left alone with Kirigan?? like he's always in the library when you are, he's always walking in to assess training when you're training and he just so happens to linger until you leave and then he just so happens needs to walk in the same hallway.

- It's a little strange at first,, but you're more horrified by the fact that you're not mad about it than the fact that it's happening. Especially since you know how much joy he gets from getting you flustered. You can see that in that slightly cocky uptilt to his lips whenever you're left gaping at him.

- Why doesn't it bother you?? You try to rationalize it and the only conclusion you can come to is the fact that he's attractive and powerful and even though your face gets hot whenever he talks to you,, there's appeal in those qualities. There's appeal in getting the infamous General to smile.

- Even if it costs you the bit of pride you have.

- You don't get why you're the one he seems to be going out of his way to speak to (maybe when your life is as stressful as his is,, at the end of the day you just want something easy and if he's in the mood to be flirty, you're easy) but you're not mad. You just have to constantly remind yourself to not be foolish enough to think you're the only one he goes out of his way to talk to.

- And as time progresses, you get a little more comfortable with his banter. You stop shying away completely,, which only encourages him to get bolder with his comments.

- Nothing insane,, not yet, just a little more direct.

- It kind of becomes a little game to him,, to see how flustered he can get you with the minimal amount of effort. Every once in awhile, you manage to act normally, but he's quick to shut that down by upping his game just slightly.

- After awhile, it starts to become a game for you too, to see how much of your instincts you can suppress just to take away some of his satisfaction. Only when he's getting a little too smug.

- But that's when y'all are alone...

- When you're surrounded by others, sometimes it feels like you don't even exist to each other. Sometimes that's a lonely feeling for both of you, but each of you is convinced that they're the only one that feels the absence.

- In your defense, you're much more entitled to those feelings because he can literally do whatever he wants. You can't just walk up to the General and do what?? ask him why he hasn't made any suggestive comment in the last couple of hours??

- please that embarrassing!! even if you weren't shy, that would be out of POCKET

- Meanwhile Kirigan is just like being angsty and debating the implications of seeking you out in an environment with so many important people. He could probably manage a minute or two by your side without making anyone suspicious, but the danger in that is that he won't be able to bring himself to leave after those minutes pass him.

- Worse,, he may even find an excuse for both of you to step out into the hall so that he can make his comments and take in your reactions in private.

- It's especially difficult when you have that one strand of hair just slightly out of place,, presenting the perfect excuse for him to just fix it and then drop his hand slowly so that his fingertips can brush the side of your cheek.

- And you're growing tired of the crowds of people you're not comfortable with and you're starting to feel more and more stupid for letting something that was so clearly just a playful distraction mean anything to you.

- But before either of you can succumb to your angsty pinning (cough, cough,, simps) his eyes will find yours from across the room and that's EVERYTHING

- At first, you want to be stiff and look away because it's probably not intentional, but then he gives you that little smirk. And then you feel stupid for ever doubting that you two at least have some kind of friendship. (maybe more,, but you're too scared to let yourself think that,, ;))

- And then you give him this shy smile,, and that's it. He's done--that one look undoes him entirely.

- So he starts shifting towards you as casually as possible, because if he can't be with you right now, surely being near you is good enough for now.

- You're unaware of this,, and when the moment ends you find yourself longing for more, but relatively satisfied. You don't expect anything from him, he's important and you're you.

- And being around people drains you because you genuinely want to stay out of any situation that would have too much attention on you at once. So once Kirigan moves and you can't find him in the crowd, you decide now is as good a time as any to step out and get some air, especially since no one currently needs you for anything.

- So you disappear into the corridor, planning to be gone only for a few minutes. But the second you're about two steps into the hallway, you hear another's footsteps.

- The hopeful part of you is like 'maybe it's him!!' but you don't really think that. There's something about the atmosphere that feels too tense,, too wrong for you to believe it's him.

- A moment later, your suspicions are confirmed. A grisha known for his impulsiveness is calling out to you, asking you where you're going.

- You explain that you just wanted to get some air and that you'd be returning in a minute. You try to sound dismissive, clearly establishing that you'd like your minute to yourself.

- It's clear that he understands the hint, but he doesn't move. He just keeps asking you questions.

- Your answers get shorter and shorter, the nerves your feeling tensing with each word as he begins to venture from falsely casual conversation to more flirtatious words. Being shy can leave you speaking too much, spluttering out words in hopes of saying the right thing to let you escape, but this is a different type of nervousness. Something feels wrong.

- And he just keeps saying things, things that even Kirigan wouldn't be able to get away with.

- All the while, you're desperate to escape, but they're persistent.

- And just when you're losing hope, and his advances get so bold he has you literally backed into a corner--a familiar voice comes to you like a lifeline.

- Kirigan, with all the authority of the general, questions what's going on. The guy that was so relentlessly hitting on you moves back like suddenly you're fire and begins to back away. He tries to explain himself but Kirigan is not having it.

- As soon as the stranger leaves, you feel like you can breathe again, but your nerves are still on edge. Kirigan's looking at you in a way you've never seen before. Sharp and almost--almost angry?

- You try to mumble a quick thanks, intending to disappear back to where you're supposed to be, but Kirigan's gaze keeps you planted against the wall.

- His gaze is so intense you ask him if he's alright.

- The question cracks something in him because of course you'd ask him if he's okay after something happened to you. His expression softens slightly, which you think is a good thing but then he speaks,, and his voice is not calm at all

- He's mad at the person that did that and the irrational part of him makes it seem like he's a little mad at you for letting that situation happen, but it's only because he's worried about what would have happened if he hadn't gotten there in time.

- And you're kind of confused because like?? what does he want from you? you made it clear you were uncomfortable and you were trying to get away?

- But after a quick snap and the fact that you're okay settles in,, he does feel a little bad. So he comes close to apologizing,, but that's basically just him saying he's glad that you're okay.

- You don't really ease, so he decides to make a partial joke about how maybe he needs to be around you more,, just to be safe,, you know

- And you smile slightly, and you're like 'y'know i'm not completely helpless.'

- and he's like 'pity,, i would've liked the excuse'

- your face instantly feels extremely warm and you're not sure what you could even, plausibly say to that. But you can't let him have the last word,, not like that. So you're overcompensating, rambling, but then at the end...you say something about how he doesn't really need an excuse to stay near you.

- When you realize what you've said, fight or flight kicks in,, but you can't move. And there's no casual way to escape, so you decide that maybe you'll cut your losses for today because that might have been your most significant reply to him ever, and you feel like an idiot because he was probably joking. And you just had to say that and make it weird.

- So you allow exactly one second of unfortunate silence, your eyes glued to the ground. And then you make some excuse about needing to get back to where you were.

- But Kirigan stops you, and you think about how you can't avoid looking him in the eyes forever, so you just kind of barely dare to glance upwards.

- And he's smiling broader than usual, the look is so warm it melts away all the bad feelings from earlier. You have absolutely no idea what it means, but you know it's not...bad.

- And then he shifts slightly, and that's when you realize he's never been this close before.

- He then asks if you're sure, voice much lower than earlier.

- You can't speak,, too trapped on a line you don't understand.

- But as he leans forward, the only answer he needs is the instinctual part of your lips as his warm breath reaches your cheek.

- And with that he turns his head just a fraction of an inch,, and his lips meet yours.

- It's just a quick brush of lips,, a soft test. And when you don't protest, he moves to let the contact be a little more assured, yet still teasing.

- Something in you grows impatient, and you move a little in hopes that he'll take the hint.

- But that's all it takes for him to pull away, expression bright and teasing before playfully chiding you for being so eager.

- He then turns, leaving you more flustered than ever.

[sierraraeck]

The Better Kisser

BAU x Bi!Fem!Reader

Emily x Bi!Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: After finding out that you haven’t had very many kissing experiences, the team realizes you’re the perfect candidate to judge who the best kisser on the team is.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: As you may have guessed, lots of kissing.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head that I just needed to write. This is technically an AU where the members of the team are Hotch, Rossi, Spencer, Penelope, Derek, Emily, JJ, Luke, and Tara. Everyone is single.

It was true. You hadn’t kissed very many people. You decided long ago that it wasn’t really in the cards for you, dating and kissing and relationships, that is, so yeah. You weren’t what one would call an ‘experienced kisser.’ Your friends had teased you for it, but you’d always shrugged it off. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

You’d never thought it’d be something to be grateful for either, until tonight.

It’d been a long, hard case, and everyone was dying to get out of the stupid office, and away from those stupid files, so that you could all finally relax, maybe even have some fun. You’d only been with the team for about three months, and it was like an entire whirlwind throwing you this way and that. You also hadn’t gotten to know the team too well either, considering how busy you all constantly were. Your first week on the job, they went out for drinks after a case, but you were so exhausted that you left after the first round.

There hadn’t been time, or energy, since then for the team to spend quality, relaxed time together. That’s why tonight was extra exciting.

“You’re telling me that throughout all of highschool, all of college, you haven’t kissed more than two people?” Derek asked incredulously. You couldn’t fully remember how you’d all gotten onto the subject, except that you had. You were sitting on Garcia’s squishy couch, littered with colorful pillows and all sorts of stuffed animals. Garcia had decided that instead of going out to a bar, you were all going to go over to her place, minus Hotch and Rossi who tapped out early.

You shrugged. “Nope. I had one boyfriend and one drunk kiss, both of which were bad experiences for me. I’ve kind of avoided all of that since then.” You explained, “Plus, when would I have time for that? Between my college studies and getting into the FBI, then BAU, I didn’t really have free time.”

“I mean, sure, I guess,” Derek continued, “but come one. There had to be guys falling at your feet!”

You laughed. “Not all of us have that kind of draw, Derek.” He nudged you, and you nudged him back with a wink.

He was right, though. You were stunning. Even when you just put your hair up and wore sweatpants, there was just something about you. You would probably look good in a trash bag. But men were not just falling at your feet. Even if they were, you wouldn’t notice, putting all of your energy into chasing your dreams instead. You thought that was a very reasonable, and responsible, thing of you to do.

Plus, you’d done the whole boyfriend thing, and weren’t really interested in trying it again. Well, not as interested as you were in trying the whole girlfriend thing. And your first day on the job, a certain badass brunette caught your eye, and was even the first one to make you really feel like part of the team. You were finding it harder and harder to resist her pull.

“Yeah Derek,” JJ chimed in, drawing your attention back to the conversation, “Not all of us can rack up eight phone numbers and five make out sessions in one night.”

“What can I say?” Derek beamed, pride shining in his eyes. “I’m a great kisser.” Emily snorted. When Derek glared at her, she pressed her lips together and looked down. “What?”

“Nothing,” Emily sang, shaking her head with an air of mischief.

“No seriously, what?”

“It’s just that if you read girls half as well as you claim to, you might wonder if that’s always the case.” Derek’s jaw hung open, and Emily smirked at him with unabashed confidence. You stared at her and her piercing eyes, and you couldn’t help but admire how sexy she was when she was confident, smug even.

“Wow, you’re gonna go there?” Derek asked, feigning hurt disbelief, “And how would you know that?”

Again, Emily shrugged and nonchalantly stated, “Because I know how women act when they kiss me. And trust me. They’re actually enjoying themselves.”

Some ‘ooh’s radiated throughout the room, and based on the look Penelope had plastered to her face, things were about to get good.

You watched in amusement as Derek sat up a little straighter, “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” Emily’s brows shot up.

“Alright, you’re on,” Derek nodded, determination radiating off of him.

“Well, I don’t know how strong either of your games are,” Luke spoke up, glancing quickly over at Spencer who was just observing the whole encounter, “but I think I could take on both of you.”

“No you could not,” Tara sneered from beside him.

“And you could?” Luke challenged.

Setting her glass down, Tara replied, “Yes.”

You giggled at the thought of the four of them having a kiss-off, just imagining how utterly chaotic that would be due to all of their extraordinarily competitive natures.

“Oh my god, this is going to be so fun!” Penelope squealed. “Now we just have to figure out who’s going to judge!”

“We can’t really use one of us because some people might be biased or recognize the kisser,” Emily casually stated. It took a moment for you to realize what she’d just admitted to. Who on the team has kissed before? But before you could really start thinking about it, you noticed that everyone’s gaze had slowly turned to you.

“What is happening right now?” you questioned, looked between them.

The five of them exchanged excited, knowing looks before training their attention back on you. Then you got it. “Are you serious?”

“You’re the only one who hasn’t kissed one of us!” Derek explained, as if it were obvious.

“You mean…” you trailed off, but again couldn’t complete the thought before someone interrupted.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Penelope promised. “And you seem like you’d be a very neutral judge.”

“Not to mention,” Tara added, “You’re a pretty blank slate since you haven’t really kissed anyone.”

“Don’t worry though, we’ll show you a good time,” Derek assured with a wink.

Heads nodded. You were a bit worried that there would be some hurt feelings by the end of this, but they were all adults, and the appeal to kiss all of them, along with their eager faces, became enough to convince you to say yes.

“Yes!” Derek exclaimed. He looked pointedly at Emily, “It is so on.”

She just rolled her eyes. “Pen, do you have a blindfold?”

“A what?” you asked.

“Well we can’t have you getting biased on us. This has to be strictly about kissing.” Hearing her explain it with such reason hampered your growing nerves a bit. Like you’d said, you hadn’t kissed very many people and you were worried how much better they were going to be at it than you.

You reminded yourself that this was more about them than you, and tried to use that to calm yourself down. You were about to be kissed by some of the most attractive people you’d met. This was definitely not a bad place to be.

While Penelope rummaged through her belongings to get a makeshift blindfold, Luke convinced Spencer to join and JJ decided to participate.

Pretty soon, they had you seated in a chair, another one across from you, waiting for whoever was going to go first, while Emily explained some ground rules. “We are going to go in rounds. We will each kiss her and then after every round, Y/N will eliminate one of us based on the number in the round we kissed her so she doesn’t know who it is. No touching. You can’t use your hands in any way, this has to purely be about the kiss. And kiss however you normally would, no matter what that means for you.”

“No hands?” Spencer questioned. You were still surprised that he’d agreed to join, let alone ask a question like that. Luke gave him an odd look from behind while Emily confirmed the rule.

“Your hands might give away who you are, and again, this is just about the kiss.”

“Alright, alright, let’s just get started,” Derek complained, as Penelope tied the blindfold behind your head.

Now that you couldn’t see, you relied on your hearing to figure out what was happening. You heard some shuffling and disgruntled whispering, then you heard the chair across from you slide across the floor toward you. You waited anxiously as the person leaned in and pressed their lips to yours.

Their lips were plush and soft, but the kiss seemed a little too forced. It was a bit excited and you could feel their smile as they started pulling away. It was a pretty good kiss, definitely better than your previous two, despite the fact that it only lasted a few seconds. You couldn’t help but try and guess who it was, thinking it was either Penelope or Tara.

The next person who sat down completely blew the person before them out of the water. It was a much longer kiss and the person even swiped their tongue across your bottom lip for entry. You weren’t really thinking as you gave them access, the heat in your body starting to rise. You just hoped that your face wasn’t giving any of that heat away, so you were almost grateful that the person pulled away.

There was a bout of silence, which made you feel a little awkward, but soon enough, you heard the cushion squish down across from you. Their knee knocked yours, as you assumed they crossed their legs. Being a profiler, you were very used to picking up on body language with your eyes, making it kind of fun to try and pick up those same behavioral cues with all of your other senses. This person, you could tell, was very hesitant. You couldn’t say you were surprised when the person really only pecked you on the lips.

Number four in the line up started out pretty good, but you felt them start shaking or something halfway through. You quickly realized that they were laughing and you pulled back. You couldn’t help but smile when you asked, “Why are you laughing?”

Up until then, they had laughed pretty silently, but once you called them out, they just full out chuckled. “I’m sorry!” Tara unapologetically said through more laughs. “I couldn’t help it. I blame Luke.”

You laughed with her as you playfully shook your head. “You were doing so well up until then!”

“I know!” she agreed.

“I guess this means you’re out?” you half questioned.

Tara gave an over dramatic sigh, but you could hear the smile in her voice as she stated, “I guess so.” As she walked away, Luke gave a small ‘ow,’ and you assumed she’d hit him. You wondered what about this was Luke’s fault? Had he said something to her?

Either way, someone took her spot across from you. They wasted no time leaning in and putting their lips on yours. The kiss started out slow and gentle, like they were easing you into it. But gradually, as you both became more used to the other, it picked up pace, your mouths starting to move in sync. It felt like all of their energy was focused on you and exploring your mouth with their tongue. It was by far the most passionate kiss you’d experienced, and you tried to hide the pout from your face as they pulled back, chasing their lips for only a second before remembering there was an audience, and a competition.

Person number six was … good. You couldn’t really describe it. They used, what now seemed to you to be, a medium amount of tongue, for a medium amount of time. It was a good kiss, you weren’t saying it wasn’t, it just didn’t have any quirk or something unique that stood out. It was just … good. You knew Tara was out, so you tried to guess who that person could be. You thought maybe JJ, or possibly Luke, but you couldn’t be sure.

The final person who kissed you was intense. They had plump, captivating lips, but the way they kissed verged on overwhelming. They were also a little sloppy in their movements, and it was like you could tell they weren’t fully invested. Distracted, maybe? Again, not bad, but nothing like some of the other kissers.

The air was hot and heavy as Emily spoke up. “Okay, we’ve all gone. You know Tara is out, she was number four, so who else from this round would you eliminate?”

You pretended to think about it, even though it actually wasn’t that hard to pick. “I think it was person number three.” The person who just sort of pecked me, you thought, but didn’t say.

The players were now down to five, and they went in the same order as they had before, minus person number three, who you guessed was Spencer, and Tara.

This round made you even more confused about who was who than the round before. The excited one you guessed was either Luke or Penelope, the intimate one you thought was Derek, the passionate one you thought was either Luke or Emily, the average one you thought was JJ, and the sloppy, intense one you had no idea about.

By the end of that round, you eliminated person number one, the overly excited, verging on too hard kisser.

The next round was a no brainer. The intimate kisser, Derek you thought, upped his game. He kissed you for longer, used a bit more tongue, but was still somehow gentle. If you thought he’d upped his game, you weren’t prepared for person number two. They also upped their game, keeping your mouths molded together for longer than before, something you were more than happy about. You couldn’t quite place exactly what it was about their kiss, maybe that it seemed so perfectly balanced, incorporated the perfect amount of everything, or something else, but they were absolutely magnetic. It sent electric waves through your body, making you feel a little tingly. You felt sort of bad for the average kisser, most likely JJ, because they had to follow that up. And finally the sloppy kisser, who you still couldn’t place. They didn’t up their game at all. If anything, they felt more distracted by the minute, and pulled away earlier than the rest.

“Person number four,” you stated when Tara asked who was getting eliminated.

It was now down to three; the intimate kisser, you predicted Derek, the passionate kisser, either Luke or Emily, and the average kisser, probably JJ.

There was some shuffling, a faint whispering, a small ‘ow,’ and then Tara spoke up again. “Now that there are only three left, as long as you are okay with it, they want to use their hands.”

You tried to downplay the excitement you were feeling with this new rule, but you were sure their trained ears could hear it in the way you said, “Yes, that’s good with me.”

The seat across from you suddenly became occupied, but before anything could happen, Tara quickly jumped in. “Wait. Y/N, you can’t use your hands.” When you pouted a little, she explained, “Well if you did, you’d definitely know who is who, so…”

You sighed, but agreed, waiting in anticipation for the person across from you to touch you.

It started soft, their long fingers brushing over your cheeks as they leaned in. Soon enough, though, the entirety of their hands were firmly cupping your face and pulling you ridiculously close, close enough to feel some of their body heat. It was intimate, and again made you feel like the most important person to whoever those lips and hands belonged to. You rubbed your thumb into your palm, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch them, but you knew you couldn’t. Your sole focus was on them, them on you, and you had to say it was one of the best kisses of the night.

That person made you feel like the most important person in the world, but the next person kissed you like you were the only person in the world. They started out by tucking your hair behind your ear, then slowly sliding their fingers back into the loose strands. As they started to kiss you, they moved their other hand behind your head, cradling the back of your neck. The person before them had captured your focus, but this person erased any thoughts your mind was capable of forming. You couldn’t think about anything other than the way their tongue moved against yours, and the shiver they sent down your spine as one of their hands traveled the length of it, coming to rest just above your hip, strong, confident fingers pulling you closer. It was a moment you never wanted to end, and one that left you in a cold shock when it eventually did.

You almost didn’t even want the last person to kiss you because of how you knew it would never come close to what you’d just experienced, but a competition was a competition. The third person kissed you similarly to how they’d done before, good but nothing special, their hands resting comfortably on your hips.

When it was all over, you asked, “Can I take off the blindfold now? I know who the winner is.”

“Sure, but announce who first,” Tara suggested.

“Okay,” you agreed. “The third person got third, the first person got second, and the second person was the winner. Can I take the blindfold off now?” you asked again. You were eager to find out who was who. When you didn’t get an immediate response warning you not to, you stood up and quickly ripped it off to quite the amusing sight. Spencer looked as bright as a cherry, Penelope looked shocked but proud, Tara was smirking, Luke’s eyes were the size of beach balls, JJ looked indifferent, Emily was smirking, and Derek looked like he’d just been shot. “So are you going to tell me who was who?”

Without answering, Emily took two large strides toward you and placed her lips back on yours. One of her hands slid back into your hair while the other rested above your waist, and you smiled into the kiss. Of course it was you, you thought. When she pulled away, you were both smiling like idiots, and she gave you a single eyebrow raise as you both turned to look at Derek.

“I got third?” he asked, still in a state of bewilderment.

“What?” you asked, just as shocked as he was. “I thought you got second.”

Emily snorted. “You thought Spencer was Derek?”

What?! You spun to face Spencer, the person you were sure got out the first round, and he was still blushing like he’d been out in the sun for far too long. “You took second?” He nodded nervously. You beamed at him, causing him to return a shy smile, then look down at his fiddling hands. “You’re a really good kisser,” you complimented.

Derek repeated, “I took third? Emily, I guess I kinda get,” she rolled her eyes at that, “but Pretty Boy?”

You shrugged, and Luke jumped in, though not nearly as harsh as Derek had been. “Yeah, I took fourth, but Spencer got second?”

You offered him a cheeky smile, remembering how distracted he felt while kissing you, and the not-so-subtle glances he constantly made at Spencer all the time. You took the opportunity to encourage whatever was going on there. “He did. Like I said, he’s a good kisser. Very intimate, like I was the only one on his mind. You should try kissing him sometime. Might help you feel less distracted.” You winked and Spencer looked like he wanted to evaporate. Luke, on the other hand, was just staring at Spencer, and you could see the gears spinning in his head. He finally mumbled a ‘what the hell’ before pulling Spencer to him by the back of his neck. Spencer seemed immediately surprised, but recovered quite quickly, no hesitation to his movements after the initial shock. They kissed each other probably exactly how they’d just kissed you, Spencer’s hands cupping Luke’s face, Luke’s hands resting on the back of Spencer’s neck and lower back. Although, you’d have to say that Luke looked a bit more focused than he’d been with you. You laughed while some of the other members hooted. This was something that’d been a long time coming.

When they pulled away, Luke nodded. “Y/N, I definitely agree with you.”

Spencer smiled, and playfully nudged Luke as he said, “Y/N, I also agree with you.”

“Hey!” Luke exclaimed, but he was smiling the brightest he had in a while.

Derek was still a mess, not enjoying the moment as much as he usually would’ve, and asked, “What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured, “You’re a good kisser, but there’s just nothing too special about it. It’s kinda just…”

Emily and Derek looked at you expectantly before Emily got it. “Wait. Are you calling him average?”

She looked way too excited for the occasion, but she was right. He was just kinda average. You nonchalantly admitted, “I guess.”

Derek let his hands fall to his sides with a slap, his mouth still hanging open. Emily’s lips curled up into a sly smile as she placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Not everyone can be as good as me.” He shrugged her hand off his shoulder, and she held out her hand. Derek reached into his back pocket producing his wallet, and grudgingly slapped a crumpled $20 into her open palm. You gawked at them, not realizing that they’d placed a bet on their skills.

Emily returned to your side, closer than she’d really ever stood to you before, and gave you a smile that seemed on the shyer side for her, biting her lip as she peered at you through her lashes. You mirrored her shy smile, pressing your lips together as heat quickly spread to your cheeks. You turned back to the rest of the conversation that demanded your attention, people wanting to know why you eliminated them. But you couldn’t help glancing over at Emily every now and then, and couldn’t hide your joy when you saw that she was gazing back.

Who knows? Maybe that night was going to be the start of two great relationships in the BAU.

@90spumkin

[the-bau-quinjet]

Nervous II

Hello! Just a quick fluffy sequel to Nervous! 

Summary: Spencer and Reader at Rossi’s dinner party after the events in Nervous!

warnings: mentions of sex and dom! Spencer

Word Count: 1544

“What if they hate me?” You and Spencer just arrived to Rossi’s mansion. You refuse to believe this can be categorized as a house.

 “They’ve already met you.” Spencer is trying to calm your nerves, but it’s just not working.

 “Yeah, and they arrested me. That’s not exactly a great first impression.” He simply stares back at you with an incredulous look on his face.

“Trust me, they’ll love you. Just like I do.” With a quick peck on your cheek, Spencer leaves the car. He opens Lily’s door before coming around to get yours. He has to physically pull you out of the car. You would’ve faked being sick to get out of coming, but Lily really wanted to play with Henry again.

 You walk hand in hand with Spencer up to the door, letting Lily ring the doorbell. The door swings open to reveal none other than the two men who arrested you. To say it’s an awkward interaction is a bit of an understatement. You are frozen to the doorstep even after Lily runs between the two men. Spencer pulls you inside as Rossi closes the door.

 “We just wanted to apologize… for arresting you.” Derek breaks the silence first.

 “Oh please, don’t worry about it. I gave you plenty of reasons to be suspicious. I was just so nervous because I thought at first maybe Spencer was hurt, but that didn’t make sense because he wasn’t working! And then I was on edge because you guys are his family and I didn’t want to make a bad first impression, but we all know how that turned out and then-“ “Baby, relax.” Spencer’s voice whispered into your ear instantly soothes you. It’s honestly crazy how much the slight brush of his mouth against your skin can simultaneously sooth you and turn you on.

 “I’m just sorry I wasted your time. And made you think someone was after everyone you love. That was a pretty bad move.” You try to laugh it off, but they can clearly see you’re nervous. If the rambling didn’t give you away, the way your hands are slightly shaking definitely would’ve.

 “Don’t even worry about it. Just come in, relax, eat some great food, and have some expensive wine.” Rossi leads the three of you farther into the house where the rest of the group is talking.

 “Y/N! Come join us gals.” Penelope is pulling you into the living room where JJ and Emily are seated on the couch.

 “You have to tell us everything about you and Spence.” All three women lean just a little bit closer to you. You can feel the blush rising to your cheeks. Now would be a great time for that wine.

 “Like what?” You are trying so hard not to seem nervous, but you know they can all see it in the way you tap your fingers or bite your lip. Before they can start actually asking you questions, Spencer walks up behind you with a glass of white wine. How does he always know exactly what you need?

 You smile graciously, thanking him with the turn of your lips and the love in your eyes. Just as he’s about to sit down, Penelope pushes him out of the room murmuring about “girl time.”

 When she returns, the questions start immediately. “Tell us everything. How did you meet? When was your first date? Did you have to ask him out? When did he meet Lily? She’s just so cute!”

You do your best to answer every question thrown your way. Starting at that chance meeting in the hospital, the girls ooh and ahh constantly during the story. They laugh at how smooth concussed Spencer was, and smile when you tell them how cute he was with Lily in the park before he even knew she was yours.

 Three glasses of wine later, you are convinced they can’t have any questions left. You’ve gone through every date the two of you have been on, ranging from fancy dinners to casual nights in. Dates with and without Lily. You go into strange detail about how frequently you text each other when he’s away on cases, usually reserving it for at night when you’re both home. You tell them when you knew you were in love with him. You tell them that you can’t picture your future without him in it. You tell them everything.

 Then things take a turn.

 “There’s one topic we haven’t covered yet…” Emily has a glint in her eyes that instantly has you questioning her motives. JJ seems to catch on, immediately shaking her head.

 “Nope, there are some things I just do not need to hear.” In your slightly drunk state, it takes you another minute to catch on.

 “Oh god.”

 “Yep. Spill it sister!” Penelope looks like a child on Christmas morning. JJ looks like she’s torn between running away or watching the train wreck that is about to unfold. Emily looks absolutely smug.

 “I’ll even get the ball rolling. I saw how the two of you blushed when Spencer mentioned your April dates. The two of you watched Tangled until Lily fell asleep and then…” Emily wiggled her eyebrows in your direction, encouraging you to share more information.

 You can’t help but hide your face behind your wine glass, taking a sip to stall. You’ve never really talked about your sex life before. You aren’t a prude, but it’s just always been slightly embarrassing for you to bring up. 

 “We had sex.” The words come out whispered and rushed.

 “And?” Penelope is the one wiggling her eyebrows now. The two of them are only encouraging the other to push you that much further. “Was it gentle? Spencer just seems like the gentlest lover.”

 You can’t hold back the snort that escapes your throat. So much so that you nearly choke on your wine. Sure, Spencer can make love to you slow and romantic when he wants to, but more often than not it’s dirty and rough. You know they can tell exactly what your reaction meant.

 “No way! No freaking way! You’re telling me that Dr. Spencer Reid-” the man of the hour walks in, effectively cutting off the conversation. JJ groans, murmuring about how this was too much information about her best friend. Penelope wears the expression of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Emily is yet again, sitting there with a smug smirk on her lips.

 “Dr. Spencer Reid what?” Spencer walks closer to the girls on the couch. His question piqued the interest of Derek, Rossi, and Hotch as well, all of them following him closer to the conversation at hand.

 “Nothing! Absolutely nothing.” You try your best to cover it up, not wanting to embarrass Spencer in front of his friends. You didn’t even really say anything. They just figured it out.

 “Well, know I have to know.” Morgan’s smirk is nearly identical to Emily’s. He’s clearly picked up on the slight tension, and he’s never been one to miss an opportunity to tease Spencer. He turns to Garcia “Baby girl, what’s going on?” You know Penelope is too far gone to hold back know, despite the pleading look in your eyes.

 “Spencer… is… he’s…” Her words keep getting cut off by her own thoughts. You’ve never been so grateful for wine. She just keeps pointing between the two of you, unable to form the words to explain what she just found out.

 “He is deeply and madly in love with me. That’s all.” It’s clear that nobody believes that is what you were really talking about. Especially Spencer, he just shoots you a look that says he’ll definitely be asking about this later.

 “That I am.” He kisses you in response, giving you butterflies. You know Penelope will come to terms with it in a few minutes, so you usher Spencer out of the room to tell him what happened.

 You’ve barely made it to the kitchen when you hear Garcia practically scream “Spencer is a freak in the sheets! I don’t believe it!” Nobody else is matching her volume, but you just know their exchanging looks, if not whispers, about that fact.

 “I didn’t say anything I swear! I just snorted when Garcia said she thought you were a gentle lover…” You both snicker at that. Spencer’s face is sporting a very clear blush, but at least you got him out of the room before Garcia screamed it for everyone to hear.

 “Baby, it’s okay. I figured they’d get it out of you eventually. The team doesn’t really do well with boundaries.” He’s laughing it off, so you do your best to do the same following him back into the living room.

 “My man!” Derek can’t get much more teasing in before Rossi is announcing dinner, shooting you and Spencer a wink as everyone rushes to the dining room.

 Just before you pass through the doorway, Spencer whispers in your ear. “Don’t think you won’t be punished for this later.”

 “Yes, sir.” You are already feeling the familiar heat that comes from Spencer’s soft whispers and dirty remarks. And if Spencer is a little rougher than normal that night, while you’re not going to complain.

tag list: 

@mac99martin​

[mrkcore]

𝐄𝐏 𝟏: 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓 - 𝐥.𝐡𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lee donghyuck x fem!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au (cs - computer science major haechan, psychology major y/n)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, slight angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): suggestive innuendo(s), infidelity, drinking

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐚/𝐧: the first chapter of the and they were roommates! series :D send in an ask or comment here to be added to the taglist! (sorry for the delay, i have been really unproductive so uh, yeah)

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

you’ve been stuck with haechan for about a month. you’ve successfully avoided him for the majority of the time, he’s still a bit flirty, but he’s been pretty quiet too.

except for when he streams. did he mention that he was a streamer? unfortunately no, you had to find out the hard way.

“haechan, can you fucking tone it down?” you storm into his room after enduring half an hour of his screaming on a thursday night. “i have an essay due tomorrow and it’s 30 percent of my mar-”

you see a professional looking mic, webcam, and another monitor with what seems like comments flowing in constantly on the screen.

“oh…” you trail off taking in all the equipment in front of you as haechan looks up at you.

“oh hey, sorry about that, jeno and renjun were being noobs and i needed to teach them a lesson, chat knows. i’ll keep it down, sorry.” he turns back to his game in front of him, completely unbothered.

“yeah.. uh sorry for barging in, thanks.” you say quickly and dash out his room, hearing the other voices from his headset laugh.

your face is hot, and you feel so embarrassed. 

anyways, lesson learned.

a few days later, you were complaining to your friend about haechan on a zoom call–as usual.

this time, however, she needed to spill the tea about her thoughts.

“ma’am, what is this tension,” she jokes. “i can feel it from miles away.”

“hey!” you snap back. “need i remind you that i have a boyfriend? and haechan? ew no, he gets on my nerves too much for that.”

“oh right, your boyfriend.” she rolls her eyes.  “i think you need to visit him, you’re so uptight all the time, i’m gonna get wrinkles if you keep complaining to me about shit.”

“oh right, restrictions have been slightly lifted, i can probably go visit him.” you remember reading about it in the news.

“yep, go.” your friend sips on her iced coffee and you laugh.

the next day, you go through with your plan to go visit your boyfriend.

all prepped and ready and you were going to walk out the door before you hear haechan coming out his room.

“oh, good morning, i’ll be out for a bit, maybe the whole day.” you say to him.

“good morning.” he yawns. “look at you all dolled up and pretty, where you going?” he smirks as you roll your eyes.

“visiting my boyfriend,” you scowl out. “now if you’ll excuse me, i better get going.”

“oh great, hope you enjoy your time with him.” he smiles and you think he’s going to be nice for once. “don’t forget protection.”

you groan. of course he had to ruin it.

“thanks haechan.” you yell behind you as you walk out the door.

it takes around 1 hour to drive to your boyfriend’s university, and an additional 10 minutes to his apartment, and you’re giddy the whole time. 

you’ve missed human interaction. 

and no, lee haechan does not count. 

you’ve missed the warmth and fuzzy feeling of an embrace, of having someone’s arms around you, protecting you from the outside world. 

you couldn’t wait to get cuddles.

hopefully your boyfriend likes this surprise.

gleefully walking into the building, pressing in the password to his apartment complex. completely missing the creaking coming from his room, but as you entered, you hear the voice of another person, who was definitely not your boyfriend.

you stomp right up to the door, and push it open.

there’s two people in the bed, and your eyes glower at your boyfriend.

“what?” the girl screams, scrambling to cover herself.

“babe?” your boyfriend is frozen on the spot as the girl looks at him as if he just said the most bizarre thing ever.

“babe?” she seems angry now. “you said you were single? what the fuck?”

“yeah, i think he lied to you.” you say coldly. “do you have anything to confess, ‘babe’?”

“you’re a douche, what the fuck.” she gets up and gets dressed. “i’m so sorry, he told me he was available, i would literally never agree to sleep with anyone who’s taken.”

“yeah, it’s okay.” you say, kind of relieved, and the two stare are you like you’re an alien. “at least now i know what type of person i was dating.”

and you turn to walk out.

“wait, babe please.” your ex tries to run after you. “y/n, let me explain.”

“no need to, we’re over.” you turn to say. “you need a ride?” you ask the girl.

“yeah sure.” she says. “don’t call me.”  

“babe please, can we talk this out?”

you couldn’t believe it. you drove 1 hour to see him and he has the audacity to pull this shit and expect you to just easily forgive? nope, lesson learned.

pfft, and he said long distance would work. 

“no we can’t, now if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be.” you grab the girls arm and walk out the door, slamming it in front of your ex’s face before he can catch up.

“do you have any plans for the rest of today?” you ask the girl after entering your car. she shakes her head while you smile. “great, any bar or night club recommendations you have?”

“uhh, bar then nightclub?” she suggests. 

“i like the way you think.” you giggle. “i’m y/n btw.”

“yina.” she smiles back at you as you pull out of the parking lot. 

a few hours later, and way too many drinks in, you’re at a table with yina, spilling your deepest secrets about your relationship with your ex.

“can you believe he made me wash his socks?” you take a sip before continuing. “and with my hands too!”

“what? that’s disgusting!” she listens to you rant in disbelief.

“yeah, he said that his socks were precious and the washing machine was too harsh on the cotton or some crap.” you snicker as you recall the other stupid stuff he told you. “ah the shit i did for love.”

“men are trash,” yina says. “cheers to that.” and you both down the rest of what’s left of your drink.

fast forward another 2 hours, you’re wasted. absolutely wasted. 

yina held you back a little bit, but its no use. you needed this.

“y/n, it’s like 11 pm, you’re drunk, i’m barely sober, i think we should call someone to come and get us.” yina tries to reason with you while you shake your head.

finally after 10 minutes of bickering, you finally agree.

“here’s my phone, you can call anyone.” you rest your head on your folded hands after handing her your unlocked phone. “anyone but haechan.” you start to doze off. “anyone but haechan…”

“hbbhng” you jolt up, feeling the warmth of your own bed. 

how did you get back home?

groaning, you feel your headache. you feel the vomit coming up your throat as you gag.

you almost fall trying to get out of your covers.

“woah there, be careful.” haechan is suddenly barging into your room, holding onto you so you don’t fall on your face, guiding you to your bathroom.

you’re too nauseous to wonder why he’s even helping you or even bother screaming at him like usual.

he pats your back soothingly as you vomit into the toilet.

“there you go, that’s it. i’ve got you.” he reassures you.

“what are you even doing helping me?” you’ve washed up and downed some water, you’re 100% sober now.

“wow,” haechan chuckles, rolling his eyes. “after saving your ass last night, this is the thank you i get?”

“what do you mean you saved me?” you’re genuinely confused by what he means.

“this yina girl called me from your phone, telling me that you’re blacked out drunk in a nightclub at 11:32 PM, on a saturday. asking me to come and get you.” he says, matter-of-factly. “i call a cab, get to the nightclub, haul your ass out the club, drive yina back home, and then us. where during our commute back, you wake up, start crying, and when we get home, you’re bawling about how your boyfriend cheated and you were a dumbass for thinking he would change. remember now?”

you’re in shock.

yina called haechan? you remember clearly that you told her not to, this is so embarrassing. you even cried about your ex to him? oh dear lord you wanted to crawl back into your room into a deep pit and never come out. 

haechan must’ve noticed your distressed expression because his face turns softer.

“hey hey hey, sorry, that was a bit mean. you just got out of a relationship, that was really inappropriate of me and i do not blame you for wanting to relax a bit.” he tries to comfort you once again. you’re in even more shock by his words. “honestly, me driving you back home, and taking care of you was the least i could do. it would have been so mean if i just left you guys there.”

you wanted to burst out into tears. 

this is the nicest thing you’ve heard in about 6 months.

unfortunately, haechan doesn’t know that.

“oh gosh, jheez, i’m not helping aren’t i.” he’s panicked by your emotional state. “uhm, to make it up to you, i’ll watch one of those scary movies with you?”

your tears instantly are sucked back into your eyes in excitement.

“really?” you ask, just making sure.

“yep, ahaha.” he laughs nervously, but happy to see your mood lighten up.

“you free tonight?” bouncing up and down practically.

“yeah…” haechan is a bit scared. “aren’t you going a bit too fast though, princess? you jut got out of a relationship.”

you gasp and slap him in the arm.

“okay okay! that was a joke. yeah i’m free, i have an essay due, but i’ll be done by 6.” haechan says.

“sounds good!” you b-line for the kitchen, your stomach is completely empty. “see you then haechan!”

oh how haechan regrets his offer.

6 o’clock rolls by, and you choose “the shining” to watch with haechan. anticipating the terror it would bring him. 

and you were right.

every jumpscare, even the smallest sounds, haechan would screech in fright. the last straw for him was the knock on your door.

“AHHHH!” he screams, almost knocking the popcorn out of your hands.

“calm down, dude.” you say, standing up to open the door.

to the unfortunate sight of your ex.

“y/n?” he says, softly.

“what are you doing here? how did you find out where i lived?” you were very sure you never gave him your dorm address.

“your friend gave it to me,” the eye bags he has are very evident. “listen, can we talk?”

“no?” haechan suddenly butts into the conversation. “you literally cheated on her, she doesn’t owe you anything.”

“who are you? her rebound?” your ex frowns. 

“her roommate, and if you even bothered to keep up with y/n, you’d know.” haechan returns the frown.

“it’s between me and y/n, you have no business telling us what to do.” your ex is getting more aggressive now.

“that’s funny, i was the one who was called to drive her home while she was out drunk, i was the one who listened to her talk about how she regretted believing you again, i was the one who held her hair back when she was vomiting this morning from her hangover.” haechan again returns the energy. “you tried to contact her, but she blocked your number and you had to get her address from her friend. you never even cared to ask her beforehand, and now you wanna try and show up to seem like you care? bullshit. now if you’ll excuse us now, we have a movie to finish.” he slams the door in his face and haechan surprises you for the millionth time today.

your ex bangs on the door for about 3 minutes before giving up, and you guys sit in silence as the movie still plays.

“hey haechan.” you try and start.

“AHHH!” he screams again, scaring you this time.

“JHEEZ BRO I WAS TRYING TO START A CONVO, CHILL OUT.” you scream back.

“okay, i’m fine, yeah sorry, continue.” haechan pants out.

“thanks for that.” you say, genuinely. “not even joking, you didn’t have to do that.”

“well i did, because that dude was a douche. literally having the guts to come over here and try and ask for forgiveness after he cheats. unbelievable.”

“yeah.” you fiddle with your fingers anxiously.

“i like this side of you,” haechan breaks the awkwardness. “you’re usually uptight, little-miss-perfect, and cranky, so i like this raw side of you.”

“mhm, i realized that now. sorry for being such a bitch.” you admit.

“no, i honestly deserve it. but i hope we can be friends now, it would be great to have real conversations with someone, you know?” he says.

“seriously?” you hit him in the chest as he chuckles.

“i’m joking! i swear. but seriously, friends?” he asks.

“yeah, friends.” 

and that’s where it started.

© mrkcore. 2021.

[haechanniesunflowers]

y/n slaps yandere!Ateez during an argument

Warnings: this kind of behaviour is sick and you shouldn't take inspiration from it. I do not support it, none of us support it or should support it. It is wrong in every way.

Mentions of blood, rage, extreme violence, gore, brutality

Requested by @btsxgx

Hongjoong

He has one rule you must remember all the time, you are not allowed to touch him without his permission, he hates being touched

You want to hold his hand? Ask him. You want to wake him up from a nap? Call his name. But you do not touch him without his permission or else he will punish you and he's a masochistic psycho so you better keep your hands to yourself

Today was a bad day for him and he was taking it out on you. He was humiliating you for no good reason even though you were on your best behaviour for him. His words were getting unbearable and then you snapped and argued back

He was stunned because you never raise your voice at him so he got physical and started pushing you harshly

In an attempt to stop him your palm landed across his jaw and suddenly everything was quite, all you could hear was your heart thumping because you had just touched him

He grabbed you by your neck and shoved you to the ground on your back and stepped on you with one foot on your ribcage

He was putting too much pressure

Hongjoong made you look at him and "you want to hurt me? That's why you hit me? Your weak hands won't do it, let me do it for you" and he started hitting his face

You tried stopping him and apologized but he wasn't having it

You had touched him and now this was your punishment, he'd hurt himself and blame it on you

Seonghwa

He's a possessive yandere so don't even think about meeting your friends

But you still kinda wanted to meet your friends so you did that, without him knowing because he was busy at work

y/n's luck really ran out today huh? Because you just came back home after having the time of your life catching up with friends and umm... is that Seonghwa in the kitchen? yes honey and I'm so sorry

"you're home early" you started the conversation and back hugged him

"yeah my students finished with their vocal lessons early so I decided to come home to spend some time with you but I guess you were out whoring around with those pathetic sluts you call friends" he said in a sweet voice but you were taken aback by his words

You let him go and tried distancing yourself from him but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his chest and kissed you

You resisted and accidentally hit his face and you could feel him staring to breathe heavily

He stopped kissing you and pushed you towards the counter and grabbed your hand and smashed it on it several times

You were screaming your head off so he chocked you with his other hand

By the time he was done, your hand was purple, yellow and blue and two of your fingers were bent the other way, the joints completely broken. You felt dizzy and threw up

"oh no sweetheart are you okay? you should go sit on the couch I'll make some soup for you maybe you'll feel better" he cooed as if he didn't just violently break your hand

You screamed and begged for him to take you to a hospital and he took your hand in his and squeezed it while staring at you lovingly and said "of course sweetheart, afterall your stupid friends hurt your beautiful hand and I'll tell the doctor about that, maybe he'll tell you not to see them again. And then I'll report them to the police, look at how brutal those bitches are, did they really have to break your hand?" he said and took you to the hospital (yikes)

Yunho

Remember that episode of powerpuff girls in which the girls time travel to the future and the whole town is ruined because they weren't there to save them and everyone's old and keeps saying "it's your fault". That's Yunho. Everything is your fault and he'll cry over it and if you deny or leave, he'll end up in the ER.

Please explain to him why you were excitedly thanking the cashier for the store restocking your favorite moisturiser because girl you were obviously cheating on him like that *rolls eyes*

You guys got in the car and drive off and suddenly Yunho inquires about the incident with tears in his eyes "you're going to leave me for him aren't you"

He starts whining and crying and you're scared because he's almost overspending so you slap him to bring him to his senses and ge stops the car

"y-you hit me? It's because you hate me now isn't it? You love that man and now you're going to hit me to make me feel worthless" he says but you answer with a wth because you're fed up of his jealousy and he presses the gas pedal and starts driving recklessly

You start apologizing and reassuring him that you aren't going to leave him and that you love him too much to do so, even though the relationship was exhausting but you had to say this to save your life right now

Yunho stopped the car again and hugged you and smirked to himself

"haha works every time" he thought to himself

Yeosang

His silence speaks volumes

He's the unpredictable kind

So when you slapped him for constantly scolding you for saying no to his stupid plan of going to Jongho's house to watch movies he left you alone and went on his own

But he didn't come back home for the next couple of days

You were ecstatic because "yes finally now I can have some time to myself" but days turned into weeks and now he hadn't contacted you or come home for a month and as much as you hate to admit it, you were worried so you called Jongho and asked him about your boyfriend but Jongho said he hasn't spoken to Yeosang for over a month and revealed that he didn't come to his home to watch movies the day you had the argument with him

You called all his friends but they all said they didn't know where he was

You were scared and guilty and cried

You went to the police station to file a missing report and a search for Kang Yeosang began

The police searched everywhere for him for a few weeks but there was no sign of him

Until one day, a month after the search began and you were starting to lose hope, he came back home

You asked him where he was and he told you he was home

You told him to stop playing with you and demanded to know where he went and why he left you alone

"I just told you I was home, I saw how worried you got and how you cried for me. I saw you sleeping on the couch and in our bed, waiting for any lead for me"

You were terrified of what he said because all of that was true but you knew for a fact that he wasn't home so how did he know all this

"what's going on Yeosang?" you ask him in fear

He just smiled and sat on the couch and turned the TV on

You came to sit next to him and there was silence for some time until he said "y/n? Next time try to hit me, there will be a search party for you"

San

The brutal sadist

You knew better than to get on his nerves because he switches from his usual sweet doting personality to a violent mad man

But you were on your period and everything was making you angry

San was feeling horny and wanted you but you didn't want him to come near you

You were beyond angry when he didn't stop and kept kissing you and trying to undress you, so you slapped him

San caressed his cheek and laughed a little and you knew you've done fucked up

You instantly start apologizing but San kept laughing with his hand still on his cheek

"kinky. do that again" he said

But you didn't want to do that again so you kept telling him how sorry you were and that you wanted him

He looked at you and smiled and said "I said, do. that. again." you were crying at this point

The next thing you knew, San was dragging you out the room by your arm and took you to the basement where he kept his tools. You were still apologizing in hopes of him going easy on you

He fixed your arm in one of the machines (the one which Ester uses to break her arm in the movie Orphan) and kept going until you heard the sound of your broken bones

San started slapping you and you were begging for mercy at this point

He was completely out of it and looked like he would kill you right then and there

You woke up in a hospital bed and heard the doctor telling San that "your girlfriend needs to see a psychiatrist because if she has hurt herself like that now, who knows what she would do to herself in the future"

The doctor came to check you and San held your hand "honey I was so scared! why did you hurt yourself like that. You didn't even think what I would go through, you know I can't see you in pain"

You felt tears escaping

Mingi

Mingi had just insulted your sister for visiting you and kicked her out of the house

You were furious and argued with him about it and he just said "I hate her, so she shouldn't come here where I can see her"

You said "well I hate your bitchass friends and family too, they shouldn't come here either where I can see them"

He started using slurs against your family and you slapped him out of anger

He quickly pushed you towards the wall and punched you

Your lips were bleeding but he wasn't done

He said he'd do the same to your sister she ever comes here again

You protested and called him out but he punched you again, this time drawing blood from your nose

You really didn't think Mingi would ever hit you like this but he just did and you wanted to run out of the house, away from him

But he grabbed your leg as soon as you tried to get out of the room and got on top of you

"you're really getting on my nerves today bitch"

He punched you one more time and you fainted

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the brat tamer kind and that's what you were being right now, a brat

You wanted to leave the house and go shopping but he wasn't in the mood to go out and you weren't allowed to go without him

So you started whining

He was getting annoyed and warned you

But you had a death wish of some sort and kept whining

He had had enough and started being rough with you to stop you

You protested and accidentally slapped him

You really outdid yourself and now you were in for it

He dragged you to his room, tied your limbs and ripped your clothes off

"now I'm going to punish you for what you've done baby girl and you're going to count for me"

You tried to keep yourself composed

The whip stung your back and you screamed

"that isn't a number I hear, let's start again"

Jongho

Jongho didn't like to use his strength against you under any circumstances

He loved you too much and felt that he needed to protect you

You were happy with him but sometimes he was too much

He just told you that you are forbidden from seeing your male friend again because Jongho got the vibe that he was interested in you

You told him he was thinking too much and that your friend didn't really like you like that

But he said "no means no, you're not going to meet him again"

You were angry at him because you had to meet that friend in less than an hour "how am I going to explain this to him"?

"tell him you don't want to see him, if he's smart he'll get the message" Jongho replied

"Jongho you're being unreasonable and stupid" you said and he came to stand in front of you with his arms folded on his chest

You hated that he was challenging you right now so you slapped him

He didn't even budge because your slap was nothing compared to what he could do and he didn't want to slap you

But as payback, he forcefully took your phone and called your friend

"you make my girlfriend uncomfortable, don't ever try contacting her or meeting her again if you know what's good for you" he said on the phone

You were embarrassed and annoyed

[vivianweasley]

Winking and Rolling Eyes (Fred Weasley X Reader)

Summary: You and the Weasley twins are best friends but you and Fred just couldn’t stop bickering. It’s all fun and games until you see him flirting with other girls. Why can’t he just stop being so mean to you and maybe finally see you as a potential girlfriend? Friends to lover

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fred being mean? a little bit of angst, blood (Umbridge’s quill), mention of food

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: For some reasons, I always pictured Fred to be the kind of guy who would be mean to the girl he likes just to get her attention lol. Tell me what you guys think about this!

Please do NOT repost my work or translate it on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

1995

Your head was always filled with weird random questions. For example right now, you were sitting in the Great Hall contemplating over why do some people tease and taunt the person they love, instead of actually showing their affection like a normal human being. What’s the reason behind this kind of action? And more importantly, why are you guilty of this too?

But what made you more confused was, when exactly did Fred and George become so bloody popular??

They were walking pass a group of Gryffindor girls now. The girls were blushing and some were even fixing their hair. “Hi Fred! Hi George!” 

“Hi girls!” George replied with a cheeky grin and Fred even winked at them.

You couldn’t help but rolled your eyes. You and the Weasley twins were best friends since the first year, but this year they became so popular, attracting many girls’ attention. You weren’t surprised. They were great beaters and their pranks were epic. Not to mention how bloody attractive they were. Of course they were going to attract people’s attention. Unlike you, who were just an ordinary girl, sitting in the corner and always daydreaming.

“What are you thinking about?” George’s voice pulled you back to reality.

“Y/N you know, if you keep rolling your eyes like that, one day they might never roll back.” Fred opened his eyes wide, looking like he was trying to scare a kid with a ghost story.

Yet you rolled your eyes again, “if you keep winking, one day your eyelids might fall off.”

“Y/N that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Like you ever made any sense!”

“We’re going to Hogsmeade. Do you wanna come?” George broke off your childish bickering.

“Sure!” You just ran out of chocolate so it was a perfect chance for you to go to Honeydukes and restock.

“Ugh I don’t wanna go with this woman. She rolls her eyes way too much.”

“Just shut up!”

You have no idea what Honeydukes was thinking. Why would they put their products on such a high shelf. Apparently, the girl next to you were having the same concerns. She was standing on tip-toe, struggling to reach high, but she failed to even touch that bag of sugar quills.

But someone next to her reached out and grabbed that bag of sugar quills for her.

“Your sugar quill.” Fred bent over a little and handed that girl her sugar quills in a really dramatic way.

That girl was blushing now, “Thanks!”

“Oi Fred, while you’re at it, I want one too.” you asked. It should be easy, since he was still standing beside it.

“Help yourself, shorty.” But he smiled at you mischievously and just walked away.

Watching him disappearing in the crowd, you rolled your eyes and reached for your wand, “Accio!”

And things like that kept on happening.

Fred and George were banned from partnering in potion class, since students’ cauldrons tend to explode mysteriously whenever the twins were partners. You and Fred were also banned from partnering, because your cauldron also tend to explode whenever the two of you were partners.

So today, Fred was partnering with a Hufflepuff girl in potion class and you were sitting behind them. You swore to Merlin that Fred was flirting with that girl the entire class period. 

That you endured, but what really got on your nerves was when you heard him saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on the fire, or else the cauldron will explode just like Y/N’s.”

You felt like all the blood in your body has suddenly rushed into your head due to anger. Last time when you asked him to keep an eye on the fire so you could read the instructions, he replied, “Can’t you do it yourself?” You got mad at him and didn’t pay attention when the fire was growing tall, causing your cauldron to explode.

Now you felt like your temper has exploded, and unfortunately, your cauldron exploded with it.

“Miss (Y/L/N), does your cauldron have a problem or do you have a problem?” you heard Snape’s cold monotone.

“I’m sorry professor.”

You glared at Fred. He was trying so hard to hold back his laughter that his face was flushed. You looked at him and you looked at your now messy table, you couldn’t help but rolled your eyes. Merlin, maybe he was right. Maybe you did roll your eyes way too often.

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

Then strange things started to happen. Many girls started to wave at you too. And you soon realized the reason behind this.

One day, a Ravenclaw girl came to you. It looked like she was hesitant but she still managed to get the question out, “Are you...are you Fred or George’s girlfriend?

“What? No!” You were just confused. Why would she assume that? Has she seen how Fred treated you? Who would treat their girlfriend like that?

“Great!” She let out a sigh of relief and then handed you a small box, “Could you please give this to Fred for me? Thanks!”

“Sure?” She ran away after you took the box, leaving you there with your feet glued to the floor and having no idea how to feel about this.

Curiosity was urging you to open that box and see what’s inside, but your conscience stopped you. Judging by her blush and the pink wrapping, it was probably a love letter or chocolate or something of that sort.

You didn’t know why, but you suddenly didn’t want to help her anymore. A part of you even urged you to throw the box away, but at the end you still delivered the box to Fred.

“Blimey Y/N, didn’t know you fancy me!” He took the box and gasped dramatically.

“No idiot, this is from another girl.” You slapped him on his arm, “I sort of just became her wing-woman.” 

“Aww Y/N, don’t feel discouraged. If you ever need a wingman, George can help you with that!”

“What about you?”

He opened his mouth but no words came out yet. You were sure that he was probably going to tease you again, but you just didn’t have the energy to do this with him today. So before he could say anything, you spoke first, “Never mind, George is probably more reliable anyways.” And you left.

“Where are you going?” You heard him yelling from behind.

“My bed! It’s tired being a wing-woman.”

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

Then life went back to normal. You would still hangout with the twins and help them with new prank ideas. You and Fred were still constantly bickering whenever you two have the chance. It was just that more and more girls came to you asking for help to deliver gifts to the twins. Even a Beauxbatons girl came to you once. Guess everyone was just trying to find a perfect date for the upcoming dance.

After deciding to stay as far away as possible from Fred during potion class, you actually became friends with a Gryffindor boy. His name was Finley Laurent. He was tall and you could always see a smirk on his lips. He was also really funny and you two hit it off right away.

You two went from studying in the library together, to going on Hogsmeade dates. Before the Yule ball, he asked you to be his date and you agreed to it happily.

The Yule ball soon arrived. You did your makeup and hair and you put on the dress your mother sent you. You were so excited about this, in fact you even went downstairs early to wait for your date.

But instead of Finley, you ran into the twins first.

“Blimey Y/N, I should’ve asked you to the dance! Didn’t know you could look this...tolerable!” Fred exclaimed teasingly.

You rolled your eyes, “Thank you for your ‘kind compliment’, but I already have a date!”

“Y/N! Are you coming with us?” You heard Angelina’s voice.

“No, Y/N already has a date. She doesn’t want to hangout with us anymore.” Fred said bitterly, didn’t give you the chance to talk, “Let’s go!”

The twins walked away with Angelina and Lee was waiting for them at the entrance. You realized that they were going as a group. You were suddenly regretting your choice now. It would be so fun going with them. 

Wait, what were you thinking? Did you want to hear Fred making fun of your dress or the way you dance for the entire night? You were sure that going with Finley would be just as fun.

You waited at the entrance for at least twenty minutes. It looked like everyone who was attending the ball has already entered the ball room. You finally decided to walk into the ball room alone. Did Finley bail on you? Was he sick? You had to admit that you were slightly annoyed but you were still worried about him.

But as soon as you saw the truth, you’d rather know that he was sick.

He was dancing with another girl. They were dancing and laughing together and the picture looked so great. So great that it suddenly seemed like you were the one who’s barging in now.

You could feel all of the blood in your body boiling as you walked over to him. “Care to explain?” You asked as politely as you could.

“Y/N...” He was surprised to see you suddenly appearing in front of him, but the words he was about to say sounded pretty well-prepared, “I’m sorry, Y/N. This is my girlfriend. We were in a fight before, but we got back together right before the Yule ball. I didn’t know things would turn out this way...”

“So am I just a backup plan?” Your brain still wasn’t fully able to process the situation right now that you felt almost like a bystander. You didn’t know what to think and you didn’t know what to do.

It was clear that he didn’t know how to face this situation either. Even the girl next to him was feeling ashamed of him. She just lowered her head and didn’t look at any of you.

“Oh baby you are here!” Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice. You turned your head stiffly to look at the source of the voice. Tall, redheaded, freckles, deep brown eyes. Your brain slowly began to piece together the name of this person, Fred Weasley.

He held your hand and he looked like he was sorry, in his own dramatic way. “Baby, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault! I should’ve never argued with you! Will you please forgive me?”

You squinted your eyes and stared at Fred all confused. 

He squeezed your hand lightly, hinting you to just follow his lead.

“What’s going on here?” Finley finally managed to say something.

Fred suddenly let go of your hand and his left hand snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, “It’s my fault to even let you have the chance to invite my girlfriend to the dance, but mate, haven’t you realized yet?”

“Realized what?”

“No offense, but can’t you see that you’re just a less-handsome substitute for me?”

Now it was Finley’s turn to be so angry that he couldn’t speak anymore, but Fred was right about one thing. You finally realized why Finley felt familiar to you. 

Maybe he was indeed a less-handsome version of Fred. They were both tall. They both have freckles. Merlin, even both of their names start with the letter “F”. But Finley’s smile was nothing compared to Fred’s. Fred’s smile was always so confident and cheerful. Even though you probably would never tell him, but his smile would always light up your day and make you feel just a little bit more hopeful on a bad day. 

“Let’s go!” Fred grabbed your hand and you two ran away before Finley exploded.

You two eventually went to the Gryffindor common room because Fred had a bucket of ice cream hidden in his dorm. The sweetness of ice cream healed your wounded pride and calmed your temper.

“Thanks, for having my back today.”

“Merlin, Y/N! Didn’t know you knew the word ‘thanks’.”

You slapped him on his arm and he acted like he was suffering a mortal wound.

“It was nothing. Anything for my best mate!”

“Best mate my arse!”

You couldn’t sleep that night. What was keeping you awake wasn’t the wrong you’ve suffered tonight, but the sound of Fred calling you his girlfriend.

You knew he was just saying that to get on Finley’s nerves and you felt ridiculous that this scene was playing on repeat in your mind. You just couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the warm fuzzy feeling rising up in your heart, spreading through your whole body.

It was terrible, but you found yourself becoming the girls that you would usually roll your eyes at. You were falling for Fred Weasley. Or you’ve already fell for him a long time ago, but you’ve only realized it today.

But what’s even worse was that you knew you would never have a chance with him. Merlin! Just think about how he treated you. He was always so mean to you and he was treating you like you were just one of his friends, not a potential girlfriend. You just felt hopeless.

So you’ve decided. You have to kill your feelings for him before it grows.

Or at least, before he found out.

1996

Under Umbridge’s control, everyone’s life was just miserable. Especially the twins who were natural trouble makers. You have tried to persuade them to lay low during a time like this, but they thought a time like this was exactly when people needed their products and laughters in their lives.

You joined Dumbledore’s Army with Fred and George. In Dumbledore’s Army, you met Ernest Macmillan, a Hufflepuff boy. He was a nice guy and you two became friends immediately. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a soft personality, nothing like Fred Weasley. Great, you thought that was a good sign.

Fred was still the same. He would still tease you when he saw you hanging out with Ernie.

“Y/N, what are you trying to do to that poor boy!” or “Ernie, you gotta be careful. This woman’s cauldron would always explode mysteriously. Maybe one day you will explode too!”

You would always roll your eyes at him when you heard him saying something like that. You were both graduating this year. How could he still be this immature?

Unfortunately, Umbridge still found out about Dumbledore’s Army and everyone in the army suffered from that torturing quill.

After finally leaving her office, you sat on the bench in the hallway. You stared at your bloodied hand that read “I must not disobey”, tears started to well up in your eyes.

Ernie was sitting next to you, “Are you alright?”

You saw the same scar on his hand and you just couldn’t hold your tears anymore. You started crying. When will days like this finally end?

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held up your wounded hand. He tried to alleviate your pain by gently blowing air on it. “The pain will stop in a minute. I promise you.”

You closed your eyes and rested your head on Ernie’s shoulder without realizing that not far from here, Fred was staring at your direction.

So you didn’t need him right now. That’s perfectly fine, he thought. He just turned around and left, with his right hand covering up his wounded left hand. But what if he needed you?

A few days later before curfew, Fred came to you and brought you to a deserted hallway. You were still wondering what he was trying to do, but he waved his wand and a few fireflies appeared and started flying around you.

The light in the hallway was dim, but the fireflies were lighting up your face. It felt like the stars have suddenly came down from the starry night sky to dance around you. It was cliche to say, but you felt like you were in a fairy tale.

“When did you learn to do this? It’s brilliant!” It was rare that you wanted to compliment him without making fun of him first.

“Y/N, I fancy you.”

Your heart probably skipped a beat, maybe more than one beat. Was this what you were always dreaming of?

But your smile soon froze on your face. He’s Fred Weasley for Merlin’s sake! The guy who was probably joking about 80% of everything he ever said.

So was this just another prank? You were pretty sure you saw him flirting with another girl yesterday and how can you forget the way he always treated you! You thought the answer was pretty clear.

“Hahaha,” you laughed sarcastically, “Very funny Fred, but I’m not that stupid. I know you too well.”

“What?” He was still trying to pretend like he was confused.

“I bet George is hiding somewhere now, waiting to see my reaction. Where is he?” You walked pass Fred and began to search for George.

But you heard him said, “So am I only a joke to you?”

“What?” Now you were confused.

“Never mind, just forget I said anything tonight.” And he just walked away.

Not long after Fred’s gone, George showed up just as you expected. But he looked so disappointed with his brows furrowed.

The air between you two were making you panic, but you still managed to sound indifferent, “What’s wrong with Fred? So his prank didn’t work. What’s the big deal?”

“Y/N, he wasn’t joking.”

“So you are also part of this prank? Please, I saw him flirting with some other girl yesterday. I’m not that stupid.”

“He only did that because you were around. He just thought that you look cute when you are mad at him. It’s childish I know. I told him that you might misunderstand it, but you know him, he’s just like that. The more he likes you, the more he’s gonna make fun of you.” George sounded so serious, “You should know. You two are just the same.”

“I...” you were speechless, George’s words blew up in your mind like someone has casted reducto there.

“Don’t try to deny it. You are too obvious. You are both too obvious.” George continued, “I don’t know why he’s only telling you this now. Maybe because he panicked after seeing you with Ernie. Maybe because we are going to leave Hogwarts soon.”

“What?? What do you mean by you are leaving Hogwarts???” You couldn’t keep your cool anymore. You were all already graduating this year. What were they thinking?

“Fred was going to tell you tonight. We both thought our future lay outside the world of academic achievement. And now with Umbridge in charge, we just can’t stay here anymore. Not even for a few months.”

You immediately grabbed him by his arm and pulled him to run towards the Gryffindor common room. You still couldn’t quite process what was going on. Your head was a mess and your heart was beating like crazy, but there was only one thing you were clear about.

“Where are you going!”

“I need to find him!”

You two managed to get into the Gryffindor common room before curfew. Fred was standing there, looking surprised that you showed up with George.

You weren’t someone who liked to share too much about your private life, but you just couldn’t see anyone else in the room anymore now. There was only one person in your eyes and one person on your mind. You walked straight to Fred and just blurted out, “I fancy you!”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes. And now he’s playing dumb? You grabbed his collar and  pulled him down, smashing your lips together. Everyone in the common room was cheering now.

You finally let go of him and he grinned, “Are you trying to prank me?”

“Sure, if you say so.”

“Alright,” he smirked, “I dare you to prank me everyday.”

“Challenge accepted.” You smiled, as he pulled you into another breathless kiss.

2000

“FRED WEASLEY!” You knew shouting wasn’t right, the entire Diagon Alley probably heard you now. But your brain went blank when you saw the empty cake box.

You spent the entire afternoon yesterday trying to bake a cake for Molly’s birthday today, but the cake disappeared now. There was only an empty cake box with some cake crumbs left, telling you that the cake wasn’t just a product of your imagination. You knew George would probably ask you about it when he saw a random cake. But Fred’s different, so you could easily pinpoint the suspect now.

You didn’t have the time to bake another cake. You were leaving in five minutes and you’ve already changed into your dress.

“What happened!” Fred walked out of the room, still fixing his tie and looking all innocent.

You waved the empty cake box at him.

“Oh...” he laughed awkwardly, possibly trying to act all cute to make you forgive him.

“FRED WEASLEY, what is you problem!”

“Merlin, we are gonna be so late!” He grabbed your hand and apparated you two into the Burrows before you could say anything else.

“Oh dear, you two are here!” Molly jumped when you two suddenly appeared, but she was also very happy to see you. “Y/N dear, what’s that in your hand?” She pointed at the empty cake box that was still in your hand.

“Oh...I baked you a cake yesterday for your birthday, but Fred ate it all.”

Fred grinned at Molly, “But I can assure you that the cake was delicious! This woman’s cauldron may explode, but her cake was brilliant!”

You couldn’t help but rolled your eyes.

He pulled you closer by your waist and winked at you, “Love, if you keep rolling your eyes this often, maybe one day they might never roll back.”

“If you keep winking this often, maybe one day your eyelids might fall off.”

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