#i would like to put a curse on the person who bought 2 of my plague dragons and exalted em on the light side

[letmesleepy]

Does anyone else spy on the dragons they sell on fr. I wanna know how my pookies are doing

[tsukimefuku]

the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery. 

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him. 

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long. 

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage. 

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it? 

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago. 

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling. 

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip. 

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary. 

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself. 

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. 

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days. 

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.” 

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity. 

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic. 

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you. 

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt. 

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t..​. We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable. 

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else. 

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips. 

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?” 

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves. 

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering. 

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline. 

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed. 

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it. 

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again. 

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you. 

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him. 

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him. 

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out. 

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it. 

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.​

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so. 

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face. 

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.” 

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

-

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

[megamindsecretlair]

Could you do a one shot with mob boss Tyrone?

A/N: My sweet Anon, you asked for one and I present to you seven. Why am I like this?

Blackbird, Part 1: Lust

Pairing: Mob Boss!Fontaine x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, fluff, angst, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of n-word and non-inclusive language. Minor OC backstory.

Summary: You are a dancer trying to make it in a world not built for your body type. Fontaine is a gangster trying to rise through the ranks of a prominent gang. Will love truly conquer all?

Word Count: 10,810k

Part 2

Interested in a Blackbird playlist? I'm not the greatest at curating songs but these remind me of these two. I may add or remove songs at my discretion.

A/N: Listen, I know. I couldn't get this idea out of my head and just kept writing. I'm trying something new here, so any feedback is welcome! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @babybratzmaraj @iv0rysoap @misskiki90 @harmshake @sageispunk @ciaqui @ms-angiealsina @satoruya @hopefulromantic1 @itsbackwoodsbby

Moodboard by the sweestes person ever, planetblaque 🥹🥹🥹

You looked at your watch on your delicate wrist. Night chased the afternoon out of the sky, taking over in their delicate push and pull. Night was safer for confessions. For reflection. 

The sun’s rays slanted through the blinds and you blinked against the bitter light. “My apologies, would you like me to close them?” Your lawyer, Mr. Gates, asked you. 

“Please,” you said. You sighed and adjusted your neat teal dress across your knees. There was nothing to fix, but you supposed you were nervous. After all these years, you thought that you would carry these secrets to the grave. Everything was different now. 

Mr. Gates moved to the window and shut the blinds more fully, draping you in the safe comfort of his office. Mr. Gates had been part of the family for years now, a profession he took seriously. It was refreshing to speak to someone who couldn’t be bought. Who would never fold, not even under threat of death. 

The office had been cleared especially for you, per your request. People liked to gossip. Busybodies, your grandmother called them. The only sound was the low hum of the AC blowing cool air into the room and Mr. Gates shuffling around. 

He finally sat down at his desk, the chair creaking under his weight. He pulled out a small recorder and showed it to you, the exact model you requested. You dipped your chin in acknowledgement. He took out a notebook, new and clean of any writing. You hoped he had enough pens. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.

You adjusted your dress once more, running your hands along the fine, silken material. You licked your lips and looked back up at him. “I don’t wanna die without marking the occasion first,” you said with a clipped smile. 

Each day it drew closer to the date, you got used to the idea of dying. You had a good run. It could have been better. But you weren’t one to be greedy. 

Mr. Gates smiled softly, perhaps a little sad. It was nice to know someone would miss you. There would be one person on this earth who’d care if you were gone. That was something. 

Mr. Gates wrote down something on his notepad and pressed a button on the recorder. He cleared his throat and introduced himself, the date, and the time. He asked you to state your name for the record. 

“...of sound mind and body do declare this to be read as my last will and testament.” 

“Goddammit!” You yelled. Your fists thumped against the rough wood of the door as it finished slamming into your face. The asshole on the other side was just as faceless as the long stream of dance companies that tossed you out on your ass. There were plenty more, sure, but this one had been reputable. Fair. 

They took one look at your raggedy dance clothes, worn from too many times around the washer. At your hair, styled high above your head in braids they didn’t understand but were obsessed with. You didn’t have the time or the money to go to a salon. Just once, you’d like someone else to bother with your thick hair and its maintenance. You couldn’t be bothered. 

You’d shave it all off but you didn’t want to deal with the mean and hurtful comments about you looking like a boy. Your knuckles were just getting over being bruised and tender from the last mu’fucka that tried to talk out the side of their neck. 

“Asshole!” You screamed. It was open auditions. Open. Auditions. That meant that anyone could come in and try their hand. You had killed the routine. You only needed to watch something once to get it down. To feel it move through your body like a live wire and your muscles respond. To mimic it to near perfection and add your spin on it. Nothing fancy, just an extra oomph that these companies seemed to lack. 

You had waited to the side with the other girls, all wispy, wafer thin girls who took one look at your curves and deemed you less than. A joke. That you couldn’t possibly move your body like they could.

One had the audacity to allude to that, calling it doing you a favor. Next thing you knew, your fist was flying and she was crying foul, blood running down her aristocratic nose. You just gave her a little more character, honest.

You cursed under your breath and moved away from the building. To hell with them. You shifted your dance bag over your shoulder and walked backwards. The marquee above the door announced an upcoming performance. Below it, there was the name of the headliner, Gabriella Greywood. 

One day, and one day soon, your name would be up there. In bright lights. And no amount of racist, fatphobic fucks were going to stop you. 

You turned and headed down the street, running head first into a person, solidly built by the feel of them. 

“My bad, sweetheart,” a deep, rumbling voice greeted you. 

Your mouth was already fixing to give him hell for not watching where he was going and that you were nobody’s “sweetheart”. The words dried on your tongue as you looked up into a deep set of brown eyes that crinkled a bit in the corner when he smiled. 

He had a low fade and short beard, shaved close to his strong jaw. Pretty, long eyelashes that fanned across his cheeks whenever he blinked. He smirked, checking you out while you ogled him. 

“S’okay,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He took in your tights and oversized gray sweatshirt. 

“You heading inside?” He asked. 

“Away from it. Those fucks wouldn’t know talent if it bit them in the ass,” you said.

The man chuckled and nodded, like he liked your honesty. Your words. “Fuck ‘em,” he said, gifting you with another smirk. You wondered what he’d look like when he really smiled. When he let it take up his whole face. 

Too bad you didn’t have time for men. You may be behind most of your friends in that department. Their heads were full of getting married and popping out babies while they were still young. Like they were checking off boxes handed down to them through the generations. Grow up, learn just enough, get married, pop out babies, and then your real life starts once they are grown up with babies of their own. Fuuuck that.

“Where you headed then?” He asked. A noise to his left made you look up and see an entire other man standing next to him. He was a bit taller, broader around the shoulders, with a narrow face and a mischievous look in his eye.

“Home, I guess. Until I find the next studio giving out auditions,” you said. Your attention was solely fixated on the man in front of you. His friend grinned and moved away, lighting up a joint. He put a foot on top of a fire hydrant and pretended to ignore you both. 

“Let me give you a ride,” he said. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. He was magnetic. Like he commanded attention whether you wanted to give it or not. 

You giggled, stomach doing tiny flips. “I don’t know you,” you said, giving him a hint of the attitude you’re famous for. None of this, giggly, braid around your finger nonsense. 

“Get to know me. Let me take you to Scarlet Lounge,” he said. His voice was smooth. Too smooth. 

You crossed your arms and tilted your head. “That’s a gangster bar,” you said. 

“What you got against gangstas?” He asked.

“They’re mean, amoral, kill for no reason, run drugs, and turn out little girls. They’re nothing but bad news,” you said.

“Damn, amoral. That’s a big one,” he said. He chuckled and licked his lips, calling attention to his mouth once more. Your body heated instantly, wanting to know what they taste like. What they feel like on your skin. What his hands would feel like on your skin. 

“Not all gangstas are the same. Maybe some just wanna get over in a life hellbent on kicking them in the teeth,” he said. He put his hands in his pockets and you finally noticed what he was wearing. Simple jeans and a black hoodie, faded from too many washes like your clothes. You felt a sudden kinship with him, an understanding passed between you in being in similar situations. Just two mu’fuckas trying to make it.

“Are you saying you’re a gangsta?” You asked.

“If I say yes, you gon’ hold it against me?” Oh, he was dangerous. Absolutely dangerous. 

You had gone on entire tirades about the level of crime in LA. It was insidious. The dangerous, hopeless underbelly that all kids from the hood grew up with was like a giant dome that prevented anyone from truly getting out. Truly making something of yourself. You either joined a gang, married into a gang, or rode the struggle bus ‘till God called you home.  

You could leave. You could find some area where the people would treat you like a freak or like you didn’t belong but you would be safe. None of them would look like you. Or understand you. Change had to start in the hood. There had to be hope some-fucking-where.

“Probably,” you said. 

He smirked and shook his head. “Cold game. What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked.

You should walk away. There was no way you could entertain someone like him. No way. Your feet felt rooted to the spot, unwilling to walk away from him or this moment. The more you looked at him, the more you felt connected to him. That each minute you spent in his presence, you felt tiny stitches being woven in between you.  

“I’ll tell you what gangsta boy. We bump into each other again and I’ll tell you my name,” you said. You turned on the balls of your feet, walking backwards away from him.

“You gon’ do me like that? Forreal?” He asked. The corner of his gorgeous mouth lifted higher. It was almost worth staying to see if you could get a real smile out of him. 

“Byeee,” you sang. You giggled, heading towards the train station. You turned around and gave your hips a little extra swish. 

“I’m Fontaine!” He called after you. It took all of your strength not to turn back around. You waved your fingers high in the air but kept walking. You didn’t really think you’d bump into him again. You couldn’t afford the distraction even if you did. You’d head back home to your shitty apartment that you shared with your best friend and regroup. 

You needed to keep your eyes on the prize. You had a future to secure. And it did not involve pretty corner boys who talked smooth.

You finished doing your makeup in the vanity, touching up the bright red lipstick one more time and checked over your outfit. Muted music and cheers reached you into the backroom, from the set before yours. 

Other dancers were touching up their outfits as well, skimpy little things that barely qualified as a costume. The leotards were black with thin stripes, sparkly silver edges that dug into your groin and under your arms. The designer, an evil little bitch with too much hair and a permanent sour expression, thought she was so damn important. Half the time, it was clear that she thought she was too good to design clothes en masse for a dance club. 

You wore fishnet stockings like the others, black leather heeled boots, and a tiny black hat in your hair. You had sparkly glitter dusted across your cheeks so that your eyes would pop. Not that anyone would see you. You were relegated to the back in every single fucking number. 

Everyone here had the same dream as you. It just came down to who was hungrier. Who was going to stick it out. You had been dancing your whole life and you’d be damned to let some wide-eyed, bushy tail ho from Minnesota steal your dream. You’d put in the work, you’d put in your dues, and soon, you’d be headlining your own show. Working with top directors and choreographers. Maybe even get into dancing on TV.

“One minute!” One of the stagehands called into the room. Kimmy approached you and looked at you in the mirror. 

“Another day?” She asked.

“Another dollar,” you said back. 

You both grinned and stood up, heading out of the dressing room and into the chaos backstage. Stagehands moved in a dance all their own, carefully moving around each other with headsets squawking with directions you couldn’t hear. Coordinating the lights and music, curtains, and set decorations. 

The previous music was coming to a close, ending on a loud roaring beat that you felt down to your toes. Adrenaline thumped through you. Despite whatever else you went through, this made sense. This was the time that your mind finally shut up. That your focus on your dreams drifted to the back and all you had to do was feel the music. The euphoria that came with losing all sense of identity while dancing.

You stood on the stairs on the left side of the stage, too far away to see the current set; you’d seen the performance so many times you had it memorized. The group before you had done a circus themed dance, full of contortionists, flips, and tumbles. The performers worked hard to make it look so seamless, you were in awe every time. 

They were due to exit on the right, to not interrupt your group. Their song ended, the curtains closing and claps echoing throughout the club. You were shuffled on stage, getting into position in the far back. Haters. Whatever. 

Stagehands used pulleys to change the scenery behind you, to an alleyway facade. There was a fake brick wall beside you getting rolled in. The announcer, the sleazeball Rusty, was on stage and getting everyone pumped up. 

You looked at Kimmy and made a face and she giggled, waving you off. The music for your number started to play, a slow and sexy jam. You were supposed to be a lady mafia, punishing men in a cold dark alley. 

Once the curtains were open and the spotlight hit you in the face, you were gone. There was only the part you played, filling in the background while the lead dazzled the audience. You told yourself not to care, but deep down you did. It was disheartening to know that in your heart of hearts, you were more talented. You were a better dancer. You just refused to suck Rusty’s dick to get to the top. 

So you focused on the music, on the dance, and executed it flawlessly. You were in the back now, but you weren’t going to stay there. You didn’t see the audience, you didn’t see the idiots at the bar, and you didn’t see any of the VIPs in the back, scoping out the dancers to see which ones they wanted to bring to the private backrooms for a “dance”. 

You didn’t play that shit. You were too spiteful, too hateful, too outspoken. And you’d continue to do so. You had to take a pay cut to not be involved with that shit. It was illegal and unfair, but it beat spreading your legs for dirty cops and gangstas. 

As you danced, your mind was partially split between what you were doing and the man you met the other day. Fontaine. You couldn’t stop saying his name. It rolled so well off of the tongue. Fontaaaine. 

You nearly missed a step and mentally slapped yourself. You focused on the dance, lots of gyrating and popping your hips. Lots of slow glides down to the floor and rolling your back. Invisible prop assistants threw you all fake uzis and you ended the dance facing away from the crowd. You jerked your hand to pretend like you were shooting a gun into the alleyway while a group of male dancers pretended to die.

The crowd cheered behind you but your mind was already beating yourself up. Already going over what you could have done better. It’d help if your performances were recorded but for the “privacy of its patrons”, Rusty wouldn’t let anyone record inside. Phones had to be off or silent and there were plenty of bouncers willing to break expensive phones to ensure everyone’s “safety”. 

Among the last to leave the stage, you turned to walk back to the dressing room. It didn’t feel like thirty minutes went by. You were sweating buckets though. Fat little droplets soaking your leotard and dripping from your temples. 

“Aye!” You turned to the sound. “Over here!” 

You knew better than to follow some strange sound around backstage, but the voice sounded familiar. Like warm caramel. You looked towards the front, where a bouncer stood to ensure that no one slipped past the curtain. 

“Over here!” You walked towards the darkened back, following the sound. There stood Fontaine, standing behind a storage door. He smirked when he saw you. 

“What are you doing back here?” You rushed over to him, pushing him into the storage room. You looked for people behind you. This area was where dancers left so it was hardly used for anything else. There were old decorations here, forgotten sets that needed to be stripped and repainted. 

Fontaine’s callused hands pulled you into the storage room. Somehow, he found the lone lamp that worked and the soft light filled the room. It was junky. Full of chairs, tables, tablecloths. The overflow supplies. 

“You said if we bumped into each other again, you’d tell me your name,” he said. 

“This isn’t bumping into each other,” you pointed out. Your hands were still around his arms and his hands had relocated your hips. 

“Sheeit, this is better,” he said. 

You shook your head. “What are you doing here, gangsta boy?” You asked.

“Tell me your name first,” he said. He cocked his head to the side, letting you get a glimpse of his dark eyes. 

A deal was a deal, you guessed. You told him your name and he rolled it around his tongue like cotton candy. “I like that, suits you,” he said.

“Your turn,” you said.

“Scarlets run this place, you ain’t know?” He asked.

“You work for Porter Sommer?” You asked. Porter Sommer was a ruthless drug kingpin that ran all of South Central. There wasn’t shit that went down in the hood that he didn’t have a fat little finger in. You’d only seen him once and it was enough to turn your stomach. He had dead eyes like a shark. 

“He ain’t all that, I swear,” Fontaine said, shaking his head. “He the only nigga that give back ‘round here.”

“Give back? He got kids doing drugs in the parking lot before their parents pick them up. He shake niggas down for every last nickel they got,” you said. 

“That ain’t us. That’s that bitch Shayne,” Fontaine said. He shook his head. “I ain’t come here for all that. I saw you on stage and I had to tell you that you were amazing.”

Now that you knew who he worked for, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue dealing with him. You hadn’t given much thought to which side of the street he fell on. The Crips and the Bloods thought they were the top bosses in LA, aggressively defending square blocks they didn't own.

Porter Sommer and Shayne Blandford were the real OGs. They actually bought up the houses and stores on the blocks, doing their hardest to outbid each other at every opportunity. They both preyed on the weak and didn’t care who got caught in their crossfires. 

Fontaine looked at you with such admiration though. Like he saw you. Like you weren’t just another dancer on stage. That he saw you with the same lights shining on you that you pictured in your head. 

You stepped away from him to try to get some clarity. Obviously, touching him and getting that close to him was addling your brain. You were seriously thinking about entertaining a bad boy. One of the worst.

“What do you do for Porter then?” You asked. You crossed your arms. 

Fontaine sighed and leaned back against an old desk. It wobbled under his weight and he looked down at it but then turned his attention back to you. “Do it matter? You gon’ judge me for it anyway,” he said.

“I’m not judging that you’re a corner boy. I’m judging that you work for Porter. That man is…scary,” you said.

“He a’ight,” Fontaine said with a shrug. “And I ain’t no corner boy no mo. Ya boy moved up and shit,” he said. He smirked and you could see him puffing his chest out. You giggled. He looked so proud of that fact. 

You wanted to keep up your defenses against him. You wanted to walk out of the room and tell him to get lost. You could not get your head turned out by a gangsta. You didn’t have the heart for that kind of life. Why did you have to meet someone like him and he was bad news? 

“Moved up how?” You asked. 

“Protection services,” he said and waggled his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes playfully and couldn’t fight the grin that ran across your face. Whether he was outside or in this dingy ass room, he carried the same level of magnetism. Charisma. 

“I cannot with you,” you said. 

Fontaine stood up and slowly walked over to you. He had a mean ass lean to it that caused your stomach to flip in response. He was the total package, both in looks and wit. But, but, but. 

He stood before you and clasped his hands behind his back. “I feel something. And I know you feel something too. I’d like to get to know you, sweetheart. Let me change your mind about gangstas,” he said.

“I don’t pay attention to words, gangsta boy. Your world is dangerous,” you said. 

“You watch too many movies. Real gangstas talk and shit,” he said. He smirked and swayed from side to side. He was hypnotic. You swayed with him like he casted a spell on your body. Each word he spoke wove magic through your veins. 

“Oh, really? Bunch of backroom deals and offers people can’t refuse?” You asked. You began to back towards the door. The only way to survive Fontaine was to escape. To remove yourself from the situation. With his voice and the way he spun words, he’d be liable to talk you right off of the City Hall building. 

“Let me find out you like gangsta movies and you just giving me a hard time,” he said. He looked at you and slowly began to approach you. You had nowhere left to go. Your back was against the door. 

“Maybe I just like giving you a hard time,” you said. You moved your hand behind you until your hand touched the cool metal of the doorknob. Fontaine’s mouth twitched but it wasn’t a smile. Dammit, you wanted to see him smile. 

His minty breath fanned across your face as he leaned closer. You bit your lip. “I’on know if you heard me, but I’m in the protection game now. You don’t have to worry about anything ever again, I’m gon’ give you the world,” he said.

You smiled, letting his words fill up your head like fresh, doughy clouds after a storm. Plenty of people talked a good game. There was a long line of disappointing men who talked and talked but never backed it up. Starting with your daddy. Fontaine’s voice had the deep rumble of conviction behind it. He meant every single word. And you had no doubt that he could back it up. 

But, but, but.

“I can’t be bought, Fontaine. I never asked for the world,” you said. 

“I know. I’m gon’ give it to you anyway. With a matching moon,” he said. 

You dropped your eyes from his intense gaze. The light didn’t quite reach this far, so you two practically stood in shadow. He blended into the shadow. Welcomed it. Like he lived and breathed in it. 

“I’m a man of action. And I’ll prove it.” He dropped his head and kissed you. Electricity zapped your lips. His kiss was languid. Slow. Tongue already working its way inside your mouth like it owned it. Your hands came around his neck to pull him closer. 

The kiss was intense, disconcerting. He knew exactly what to do too, alternating kisses and little nibbles. Your wet lips smacked against his and your pussy throbbed. He pushed you into the door, hands gripping onto your hips like he was holding on for dear life. 

If he was magnetic before, it paled in comparison to touching him. Feeling him. You felt him everywhere. Each kiss sucked you further down into the shadows with him and you never wanted to taste the light again.

You paused here and took a deep breath. Mr. Gates cleared his throat and paused the recorder. “Do you want to skip this part?” He asked.

So kind. Mr. Gates was always so kind. He was a rare breed compared to all the men in your life. Especially when compared to Fontaine. However, Fontaine had no equal. There was no one who came close. 

That first kiss ought to have been where you drew the line. You knew better than to sit in storage rooms with strange men and let them kiss you. Let them feel on your booty. Just remembering it, brought heat to your cheeks and to your core. You felt the ghost of Fontaine’s hands on your legs, on your hips. That playful smirk tickling your neck.

You shook your head. “I just need a minute. I-I need him to know that it was always real for me. That I went into it with both eyes open,” you said. 

Mr. Gates nodded and got up, leaving his office for a moment. Your mind wandered, thinking back to those early days. From bumping into Fontaine to everything that followed after. Like the Hand of God tripped you over Fontaine’s feet so that you would meet. Would know. So that you would know each other and know what it was like to love with your entire body. 

Moments later, you collected yourself. Mr. Gates seemed to know exactly when. He came back into the office without any prodding from you. You smiled at his kind, grandfatherly face. He had white hair sticking out the sides of his head. You bet he was a player when he was younger. 

“Would you like to continue?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “Yes, where was I? Um…so, Fontaine did exactly that. He proved with more than his words that we had something songs got written about…”

Fontaine attended every performance every night you worked. You were still in the background and he looked at you as if the spotlight was on you. He didn’t help your ego at all. 

After every night, he’d somehow sneak backstage with a single red rose to tell you that you were the best dancer up there. He stole kisses after each one too. At this point, you didn’t know why you were still resisting him. You weren’t some prude waiting for a man to drop to one knee; you didn’t believe in that shit. 

There was something a little hot about making him sweat it out. Something a little erotic about heavy petting and making out and living in the moment spent with your lips colliding and tongues exploring. With his hands around your ass and your hand rubbing him over his jeans. 

You hadn’t had many occasions to lust after someone. Sometimes guys made you crane your neck, but you had a single minded focus that saw you through your shitty childhood, through your awkward teenage years, through screaming matches, and slammed doors. You got what you needed from guys, the only things they were really good for, and you left them high and dry. You left them while spit flew from their mouths as they called you bitches, hos, and anything else their little brains could think of.

Funny how once you treated boys how they treated you, you were suddenly the devil incarnate. 

But you lusted. Every dip of Fontaine’s hips made your body respond in kind. Like he had a direct line to your pussy and constantly tugged on it to drive you crazy. He knew the effect he had on you too. 

He always made sure to blow you a kiss while you were on stage. When he smirked, he liked to look at you out of the corner of his eyes. He made sure to grab your ass while making out, squeezing them like trying to get juice from a lemon. Oh and when he got to rubbing his stubble along your neck, your eyes would roll back and he’d tell you to quit being so cute before he dicked you down. 

Fontaine made you hot and bothered. In more ways than one. As much as you were interested in him, you still hated what he had to do to survive. You understood the game, but it didn’t mean you had to love it. 

When you weren’t on stage and you were taking your break, waiting for the next set, you would sneak out to the front of the house so that you could see the performances, see what worked and what didn’t. Sometimes you’d grab a drink and wait for Fontaine to sneak away to kiss you. 

And sometimes you’d see him heading to the private rooms, escorting your fellow dancers and whichever powerful men wanted to use them for the night. Rusty was always there with a grin on his face and dollar signs in his eyes. It was disgusting. 

Rusty never touched anyone but your best friend Kimmy. He took one look at her and fell ass over teakettle for your sweet friend who had a kid to look after. On top of paying her a little more, Rusty rented an apartment for Kimmy and her kid. She didn’t think anything of the little bargain. One man was better than a revolving door. 

Sometimes anger boiled in your veins at the mere thought. You wanted to burn this place to the ground. It was true that you chose to come here, night after night. However, dancing was the only thing that kept the anger at bay. Well, that wasn’t entirely true anymore. 

As Fontaine walked around the tables on his way to you, you found unexpectedly that his presence tamed the wildness of your anger. It wasn’t completely gone. The slightest thing would set you off. Until you bubbled over like a volcanic eruption, burning everything and everyone in your path. You weren’t like that with Fontaine. You didn’t want to be like that with Fontaine. And all it took was a few dozen roses and sweet stolen kisses. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting. He was starting to grow his hair out. Since he moved to protection, he started dressing a little fancier. Dickies instead of jeans, plain T-shirts instead of whatever graphic tee caught his fancy. 

Fontaine dressed all in black did things to your libido that wasn’t fit for mixed company. The short sleeved black tee seemed like he bought a size down on purpose, to emphasize his muscles. 

“Hey you,” you said. 

“Isaac was telling me about the Fair. We should go,” he said. 

“The Fair? What we gonna do there?” You asked. 

“I’on know. Fair shit,” he said, that damn smirk. You were going to get him to smile if it was going to be the last thing you did on this earth. 

“You gon’ win me a teddy bear?” The question popped out before you could think about it and snatch it right back. You wished you could swallow the words, unring the bell, and ask him something different. Something that wasn’t a little too close to home. You always wanted someone to win you a teddy bear from one of those Fair games, carry it around for you. 

But that shit was for other, softer girls and men who actually gave a damn. For TV movies and shows with people who didn’t look like you. 

“I’m gon’ win the biggest one. So Friday night?” He asked. 

“Friday night,” you agreed, little butterflies taking flight in your stomach. 

“It’s a date sweetheart,” he said. He kissed your cheek and you watched his generous backside as he went back to the backrooms, making sure your friends were safe. As much as they could be. 

When he approached the door, Issac came out of it looking self satisfied. The corner of your mouth lifted in a grimace. Isaac was attractive but something was throwing you off about him. Whether it was his vibe or the oily way he looked at everybody, Fontaine included, you made a mental note to get the full story behind them.

It was obvious that they were close and did next to everything together. Issac said something to Fontaine who shook his head but bumped fists with Isaac. It’d have to be none of your business for now. 

Friday night rolled around and Fontaine was punctual in his champagne colored 90s Cadillac. You didn’t know much about cars, but you knew enough to appreciate the craftsmanship and that Fontaine lovingly took care of it.

It was shined to gleaming, silver chrome glinting from the streetlamps. Night was fast approaching and you had a long drive to Pomona, to the Fairgrounds. It was the first time in his car and you had to admit, you were a little nervous. 

Fontaine got out of the car and you had to whistle at him. He wore black jeans, black boots, and a red flannel buttoned up. The top two buttons were out, giving you a peek of a black tank underneath. He wore his signature jacket, the same one he wore when you met. You had half a mind to say fuck the Fair and invite him inside. 

“I know where yo nasty ass mind is at,” he said as he came around to the street to greet you with a kiss on your cheek. He handed you a single red rose.

“What you talkin’ ‘bout?” You asked.

“I know I look good,” he said. He smirked and stepped out, showing you his outfit. He dusted invisible lint from the front of his shirt and you laughed. 

“You really do look good,” you said. 

“But you look good enough to lick on,” he said. He bit his lip and eyed your outfit, a spaghetti strap dress with a modestly low neckline and blue and red ombre colors. It started out royal blue at the top until it began to lighten around the hips, turning into a jam red at the bottom. 

“And you call me nasty,” you said. You tapped his shoulder and his cheeks puffed up. You half thought you were going to get a smile but he stopped himself at the last minute. 

“Just telling the truth. Matter of fact, you look too damn good. I’on wanna spend the night catching bodies behind yo cute ass,” he said.

“Shut up!” You giggled. Fontaine said the cutest shit sometimes. Threatening murder behind you was not sexy, but when it dropped from his lips it was. It was a type of possession you didn’t think you craved, but you did. You wanted to belong to him in every sense of the word. 

Fontaine escorted you into the street and opened the door for you. You slid inside his car, smoothing your dress over the leather seats. It smelled clean, like some type of mountain scent laced with the particular smell of weed. Fontaine closed the door and walked around the front, climbing in himself. 

Low, thumping hip hop music was on in his car and you looked at him. This was different. He was different. And you only wanted to see where the night took you. 

As Fontaine got onto the 10 freeway, he got comfortable and leaned back in his seat. The seat was further back still and you got the sense that it stayed a little too far back on purpose. He kept his left hand on the wheel and dropped his other hand to your knee. 

You looked at it and it felt right. His hand was warm across your knee and you sunk into the seat, placing your hand over his. The corner of his mouth lifted as you began to speak and get to know each other beyond just his kisses. 

“How long you think you gon’ be a gangsta?” You asked.

“Damn girl. Not even gon’ ask me what my favorite color is?” He asked. The red lights from the cars in front of you lit up his face and you found that red suited him well. The starkness of the color played across his features in a way that made him seem timeless. 

“I already know what yo favorite color is,” you said.

“What?” He asked. He rubbed this thumb across your knee and you lost the ability to think for a minute. 

Everybody Loves the Sunshine played on his stereo and you shook your thoughts loose finally. “It’s purple,” you said.

Fontaine chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, you been paying attention to a nigga, huh?” He asked. 

“Whatever, Fontaine,” you said.

“Love it when you say my name. You draw it out and shit,” he said. 

“I do not! Just answer my question!” 

Fontaine was silent for a moment, weaving in and out of crazy LA traffic. Every year it got worse and worse. To the point that you almost didn’t want to leave the house most days. It was why you started taking the train more. It sucked, but it beat dealing with the mu’fuckas that continued to flock here chasing their paper dreams. 

“I’on know how to do anything else. That 9-5 ain’t me,” he finally said, his voice smooth and low. “I need to know if that’s ever going to be a problem. If you can ever accept that this is the life I’m in.”

He slanted his eyes towards you. This was the most serious you’d ever seen him. And Fontaine was a pretty serious person more often than not. He got this look in his eyes, like he saw the world burning before him and didn’t want to bother grabbing a bucket of water to help. Like he liked it. 

“I won’t promise to never speak on it. I’m…scared to lose you,” you said. You were surprised it was true. You made him sweat for a month, turning down his date ideas just to see what he would do. Testing him, you supposed. If he was in it for you or for what you had between your legs. Usually you could tell the difference with perfect accuracy.

When it came to Fontaine, nothing was certain. And you didn’t know if that scared you to the point of attraction, or turned you on to the point of fear. 

Fontaine squeezed your knee. “You don’t gotta worry about that, sweetheart. It’s me and you,” he said.

Me and you. Those three little words planted themselves inside you, taking root and growing vines around your bones. Sprouting leaves in your lungs and stretched towards your brain, filling it with the oxygen you needed to breathe. Three little words. The wonder of it brought unexpected tears to your eyes. 

You grinned at Fontaine. For the rest of the car ride, you got to know more about him. More about his little brother who was killed and why he joined the Scarlets. Why he took up a gun and was never putting it down again.

It made more sense in context. The circumstances were always fucked in the hood. And the tender heart you tried so hard to guard against all evil only broke more for Fontaine. He told you about how his mother retreated into herself. Only got herself together long enough to fake the funk at work and then disappeared into her room. 

With mounting bills and not wanting to live off anyone, Fontaine did what any other Black male did in his situation. He grew up. 

You told him about your toxic childhood. How your parents alternated between fighting and fucking. That when your dad was lost to the drink, he’d look at you like you were a stranger. And when he sobered up, he looked at you like you were a princess atop a castle. You never knew which side you were going to wake up to.

You told him about your mother and how she always seemed to be jealous of you. Like there was some aspect about how she raised you that she didn’t like. That it was your fault for taking her instruction to heart and not giving a fuck about what anyone said. You wanted something, you went after it. 

There was no love in your house so you got out when you were 17 and never looked back. Fuck them. You didn’t want to stay in that house anyway. 

Reaching the Fairgrounds, you and Fontaine turned to lighter subjects. How or why you got into dancing. Your favorite dancer was Debbie Allen. You wanted to be her so badly that you studied every move she ever made. That you went for ballet because that was where she started. 

She was able to get into TV but that wasn’t really where you wanted to be. Maybe when you got older and your knees started to rebel. For right now, you just wanted to dance. To be free. 

You held hands with Fontaine, talking and laughing while you pulled each other around the Fairgrounds. You’d only been once, when you were younger, and hadn’t bothered since then. 

There were rides and the sizzling smells of meat that made your mouth water. Desserts, weird food combinations like a Krispy Kreme donut burger, and the sounds of children’s laughter. The ground was littered with wrappers, coupons, and papers. 

Fontaine paid for your play cards, dropping a wad of money that made your eyes bug out. He kissed your cheek and told you to go nuts. Anything you wanted to do or try. There was no limit. You told him that he was crazy. 

“The world and the moon to match, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips. You grinned and dragged him everywhere. On the ferris wheel, on the spinning ride, and on the zero gravity one until your stomach hurt so badly that you had to sit down. Your head spun painfully and Fontaine rubbed your hand while you giggled about it.

You went into the funhouse with its crazy mirrors. Fontaine only had one request, that you go on the haunted ride with him. You were determined to stay far away from it. You hated the feeling of being scared. He peppered your cheeks with kisses until you relented and got on with him.

You suspected that was his plan all along. To have you clutch onto him for dear life. He chuckled at your theatrics but didn’t make you feel bad.

“Come on, girl, I got you,” he said. He kissed your cheek and pulled you into the safe embrace of his arms. You giggled. You was gon’ have his babies if he kept doing cute shit like this. 

After that ride, you settled on Pink’s for dinner. The smoke from the truck was whipped into the sky by a bitter breeze. You should have brought a jacket. You forgot how fucking cold it got at night out here. 

Without saying a word, Fontaine made you wear his jacket. You attempted to tell him that it was okay, if nothing else yo mama ain’t raise no bitch, but he refused to take it back. “I’m hot anyway,” he said. 

You grinned, looking up at him. He winked at you and ordered you food. You ate and laughed and talked about nothing in particular. Shit you found on TV. Movies you happened across. Books you’ve read. Music you listened to. 

You yawned and leaned your head against him after another round of rides and dessert. A huge funnel cake topped with ice cream and chocolate drizzle. Fontaine had to help you finish it in the end.

“You gon’ have to roll me out of here after all this,” you said, licking your spoon for every wayward swipe of chocolate and smacking your lips with a loud pop. When Fontaine didn’t say anything, you turned towards him. His gaze was fixed on your mouth. 

“Fontaine?” You asked. 

He gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer. He licked the corner of your mouth and you moaned, feeling his hot tongue on your cold face. He hummed in the back of his throat. 

“Delicious,” he said. 

He pulled back with a smirk, rubbed your chin, and pulled back. Your whole body heated. Cascading down your body in waves. You rubbed your thighs together, wetness starting to pool in your panties. 

“We got a little more to spend before we dip. Let’s get you that teddy bear,” he said.

“I was just joking about that,” you said. You gulped around the tension. So thick, it stuck in your throat. 

“I wasn’t,” he said. He stood up from the bench and held out his hand. You took it, hand fitting his like a glove. He threw out the plate you finished up and tucked you into his side while he walked.

In the middle of the grounds, there was a row of carnival games like ring toss and popping balloons. There was also a basketball hoop. Fontaine made a beeline for it, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel. A staff member scanned the play card and loaded up the basketballs for Fontaine.

He tested the balls and soon, started sinking ball after ball. Your mouth dropped open. He could’ve been a basketball player with that lethal game! The staff member told you to pick out a small teddy bear. Fontaine stopped you. 

“One game is a small teddy bear, but three mediums is a big one right?” Fontaine asked.

The staff member, some pimply kid, popped his gum and nodded. Fontaine loaded up more games, winning each and every one until you had three medium ones and exchanged it for a giant fuzzy teddy bear. It was so big! You squealed when the staff member handed it to Fontaine. He chuckled at your reaction. 

You squeezed one of the arms and couldn’t help jumping up and down. You were happy to take the small teddy bear. But the fact that he kept going made your heart soar. “Worth it just to see your face,” he said. You kissed his cheek a hundred times and he finally smiled.

It felt like your world narrowed to that expression on his face. Watching his whole face light up and eyes crinkle. He had a wide smile that took up his whole face. His smile was infectious but you were too dumbstruck to smile back. 

“Come on,” you said. You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

“Where we going?” He asked.

“I wanna remember tonight. And you better smile!” He chuckled while you pulled him to the nearest photobooth. You probably should have done this before winning the bear, but fuck it. Tonight had been nothing short of perfect and you wanted to capture this moment the best way you could think of. Like those shows and movies did. With something real. Not just something captured on your phone. 

You wanted it in your hands. You wanted to slide it into a binder so that you could look at it over and over while in class. Daydream about him in between lockers and free time. Glance at him from across the way on the courtyard. Dance with him at Homecoming. He made you feel young, like you were back in high school with your first crush. Fontaine was everything. Absolutely everything. 

The teddy did fit, and you scooted in first. Fontaine chuckled and sat down next to you. He swiped the card and it began to give you instructions. Fontaine was serious the first go around, mean mugging the camera. 

“Forreal this time!” You giggled. 

Fontaine sighed and rubbed his head. “A’ight, a’ight,” he said. He loaded it up once more. He kissed you in the first picture. Then you did a few silly ones. He tickled you for one of them. On the last one, you couldn’t think of what to do next. So you just looked at him. He looked at you. The camera flashed and you saw it reflected in his beautiful eyes. 

You continued staring at each other until the booth buzzed, wanting to know how many copies you wanted. You printed two and finally scooted out. Fontaine scooped up the two cards and you placed your head on his shoulder to look at them. 

“Thank you, Fontaine. For everything,” you said. He just…he had no fucking clue what tonight meant to you.

“The world and the moon to match, sweetheart. You ain’t gotta thank me for this,” he said.

“Yes, I do. And I know just how to thank you,” you said. Your voice turned a little flirty and you lifted your head to look at him. He looked down at you and smirked. 

“Is that right?” He asked, licking his lips. 

“Yup. We better get back to my place before my roommate gets home,” you said. 

Fontaine took your hand and tugged you towards the entrance. You giggled the entire way, feeling giddy and light in a way you hadn’t in a really long time. Fontaine gave you that. Gave you that freeing feeling back. You thought you’d lost it when you accepted that your parents didn’t know how to love you. 

His Cadiallac sped down the open freeway, too late for the out of town mu’fuckas to fuck it up for everyone else. The windows were down and the wind rushed through the car with wild abandon. He drove safely, but fast towards your place, hand on your knee the whole way. 

The tension was back with a vengeance. Like you were both standing on top of a cliff somewhere ready to dive off. Heat pooled along with your arousal between your thighs and you couldn’t stop clenching them. 

Lust. Lust was a powerful thing. Detonating bombs in your core until you were practically drunk on them. Looking forward to them. Until there was only the dirty thoughts running through your mind and the feel of his callused hand on your knee. 

Fontaine managed to find a spot on your street. You were on the wrong side of Stocker, where you had to get to the spot faster than your neighbor. Fontaine got out first and then opened the door for you. He even grabbed the teddy for you so he didn’t have to come back outside for it. 

You pulled him into your crappy apartment that you shared with Kimmy. Considering Rusty was paying for it, it could have been worse. You still owed rent to him and had to clear out when he wanted to ditch his wife and come mess with Kimmy. She was out with her son and likely wouldn’t be back until sometime Sunday. You didn’t tell Fontaine this. You didn’t want him to think that you were plotting on him. 

But you were. You weren’t sure if he was the type to stay after sex, or once he got off, he was already looking for his pants. You wouldn’t really bring him upstairs if it was the latter. You got the feeling that he was a little clingy under that hard facade. 

You only turned on enough light to get across the living room and into your room. You turned on the lamp. Both of you were breathing heavily. Bodies preparing to experience an unparalleled pleasure. 

Fontaine gripped your hips and you giggled, accepting the kiss he laid on you. The ones before had been tame. He had been holding himself back. These were wilder. Crazier. Lips smashing into yours with a desperate plea to get closer and stay closer. 

He pushed his jacket off of your shoulders and you worked on the buttons of his flannel. He helped you pull it off of him and you licked your lips at your first real look at his body. At the tattoos down both sides of his arms. You didn’t have time to catalog them all, but you would eventually. You were going to lick and trace every single one of them.

He was thick in all the right places. A hard stomach and big arms. His stubble tickled your chin while he started to kiss your cheeks and your neck. You were a twisting mess of flailing arms and legs trying to get out of your sandals, his shoes, and his pants while working your way over to the bed.

You pushed him to sit on it and he bounced with a small chuckle. You dropped to your knees, tugging at the zipper of his jeans. “Yo, what you doin’? Ladies first,” he said.

You leaned up and kissed him. “I appreciate that, but I said I wanted to thank you proper,” you said. 

“Sheeit, don’t let me stop you then,” he said. He grinned, gifting you with another rare smile from him. It fueled your desire. 

You tore desperately at his pants and briefs, freeing his long, thick dick. You moaned at the sight of it. The tip already weeped, precum beading. You swiped your tongue at it and Fontaine moaned, rolling his neck. 

You continued to please him, licking him in certain spots trying to learn what turned him on. What made his dick twitch in your hands or his balls jerk. You wrapped your lips around his thick head and sucked him down. 

“Fuck! Just like that!” Fontaine groaned. His hands disappeared into your braids, tugging on it. You groaned around his dick and he hissed in return. You batted your eyes at him and sucked him for real this time. No more teasing. No more games. No more tests.

You drooled on his dick, growing wetter at the act. You could practically feel him inside you already, ruining you for any other man. You used both of your hands to please him where your mouth couldn’t reach. 

Sputtered words and soft commands filled your ears on top of you gulping him down. “Mm, suck that shit down, sweetheart,” he groaned.

That spurred you on, that you were doing a good job. You gripped his thighs and leaned up to take more of him. “Gah damn,” he said and licked his lips. 

You took him in deeper, as far as you were able without using your hands. You breathed where you could. The only thing that mattered was letting him know what this night meant to you. What he meant to you. 

You slurped on his dick, letting the spit lube up more of his dick for you to slide on him. His moans grew louder, fingers clutching your braids harder. “I’m finna bust,” he groaned.

You kept going. As if that was supposed to stop you? That was the goal! You wanted him to bust. You wanted to empty his balls into your mouth. You wanted to taste every ounce of his cum in the back of your throat.

He gasped and he was unleashing himself inside you, filling your mouth with him. You swallowed him down and moaned, arousal leaking from you. Pussy throbbing. 

Fontaine grabbed his dick and pulled him from your mouth, tapping the head against your lips. You kissed him and he smirked. “You a bad one, ain’t you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Oh? You a good girl?” He asked.

You nodded. He hummed, the low vibration sending signals down to your pussy. “Good girls get rewards don’t they?” 

You nodded, too struck dumb by him to say anything else. What was there to say? If you opened your mouth, all kinds of sticky, gooey, lovey dovey shit would fall out and you’d never been good at that. 

Fontaine stood up and helped you to stand, he kissed you, not caring that he just finished in your mouth. You loved a nasty nigga. He unzipped your dress and kissed your shoulders while it fell from your body.

He unhooked your strapless bra, freeing your titties and licking his lips at the look of you. “Like two little chocolate kisses for me,” he said. His lips descended on them, suckling each one and learning the shape and feel of them in his mouth. 

His hands worked your panties off, pushing them off your legs. He kissed on your chest as he laid you down and now it was his turn to get on his knees. His turn to push his head between your legs and suckle his way past your pussy lips. 

“Oh fuck!” You moaned. His tongue was a gift from the gods. Long and big, he flattened it against your pussy and moved his head in circles. Your breaths shuddered and your body twisted, legs shaking. 

He pulled the orgasm from you like it was his divine right and you screamed out, lungs burning with the effort. Fontaine kissed your thighs and your belly, wiping your essence off on you.

“Let me taste,” you begged. Fontaine chuckled and climbed up your body and kissed you, letting you taste just how wild he made you. You scratched up and down his chest and back, pulling him closer. 

“Let me feed you this dick,” he said.

“Feed it to me, baby,” you moaned.

He gifted you with another grin. Wide smile and crinkly eyes that you wanted to swim in. He pushed his jeans completely off and next went his black tank. He didn’t have any tattoos across his spacious chest and you ran your hands over him, learning every mole or scratch on him. 

He had a faint scar across his shoulder and you traced it with your thumb. You didn’t have time to ask him about it before his dick was pushing at your entrance.

You hissed and pushed on his chest. You were sure you were wet enough, but he was still massive. “Slow! Slow!” You cried.

He tilted his head and moved his hips, pushing deeper into you. Once the tip was in, he shoved all the way in with one hard thrust. You gasped, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as he stretched you out with a bite of pain.

You slapped at his shoulder. “I said slow!” 

He chuckled and kissed you, trying to ease the sting. “I can’t help it. You so fuckin’ wet. I need you,” he moaned. He fed you long, deep strokes touching a deep, sweet place inside of you that might’ve been your soul. Like he wanted to write his name in the very fabric of you and never lose you. 

You gasped as he delivered these strokes, hissing when he hit that deep spot again and again. Your legs began to shake in earnest. “Mhm, don’t hold it, sweetheart. Let that shit go and lemme feel it.”

“Fon-tai–” you moaned.

“Shhh, I know you wanna call my name. I know you do. But all you gotta do is focus on that nut. Focus on my voice,” he asked.

He stretched you perfectly. And from how much arousal there was, it was staining your sheets. You were sliding up and down on his dick now, titties flapping from the strength of his strokes. 

He moaned, watching the expressions play out over your face. He cupped one of your titties, pushing down to hold you in place while he fucked you. “Mhm, doing so good, sweetheart. So good, focusing on you. Focusing on what I’m giving you.”

“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned, eyes rolling back in your head.

“Shit, just like that baby. Grip it just like that,” he moaned. 

Your cries turned wild, keening, and loud while you gripped onto him and shook and twitched through your orgasm. He hummed while you did so. Satisfied with himself. 

“You-you didn’t…” 

“I know, turn over,” he said. His deep voice let you know that he wasn’t playing. Somehow, you found the strength to flip over. He smacked your ass, watching it jiggle.

He entered you once more and you cried out. You would never get used to his size. Never get used to him slamming and stroking inside of you. 

“Fuck!” You moaned. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. Hear how he knew exactly what you needed.

He gripped big chunks of your ass and used it like handles to slam you down on his dick, faster, and harder. Your elbows ached from trying to brace yourself against him. You slammed back, giving as much as you were taking.

“Ouue, that’s my good girl. You show me what you got,” he encouraged.

You continued to throw it back, craning your neck in time to see him throw his head back, surrendering to your pussy. It was enough to make you cry out, back bowing to another powerful, earth-shattering, world-altering orgasm. 

“Take that shit, baby,” he moaned and then finally climaxed, pumping you full of his delicious cum. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I need it, baby,” you moaned. 

“I know you do,” he grunted as his dick stopped pulsing. His cum leaked out of you as he pulled out. He spread your ass cheeks to watch. He slapped your ass when you were sure no more would come out. You were thoroughly stuffed like a twinkie. 

Fontaine left the room and you collapsed forward onto the bed, strength leaving you. A bit of nervousness crept in its place though. You wanted to ask him to stay. You wanted to roll over and be all sexy and enticing. As much game as you talked, sometimes you had moments where you couldn’t make your mouth move. 

Fontaine came back into the room with a warm rag to clean you off. You moaned and he rubbed your ass as he cleaned off your thighs as well. You sluggishly rolled over and smiled at him.

“You’re so damn cute,” he said. 

“You are,” you said and smiled.

“When yo roommate getting home?” He asked. 

You shrugged and looked away from him. “Um, I think she said she doing something this weekend,” you said. 

“So you gon’ be home alone?” He asked.

You shrugged again and played with the edge of a pillow. “Yeah, I think so.” 

The bed dipped as Fontaine sat down on it. He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. You didn’t want to. You tried to fight him. But he only smirked and held on. You looked at him and he tilted his head.

“Do you want me to stay, sweetheart?” He asked.

“Only if you want to,” you said.

He shook his head and pecked your lips. “Be a good girl for me and tell me you want me to stay,” he said.

He smiled and you rolled your eyes. He got on your damn nerves. But you couldn’t quit him. 

“I want you to stay, please.”

He nodded and kissed you. Then he pulled you further onto the bed and tucked you under the covers. He defied any expectation you had of his gender. He really was killing it for anyone else. 

Though, as sweet as he was being, you knew that there would never be anyone else.

Me and you. 

You stopped here and wiped a runaway tear sliding down your cheek. You sniffled. You were both a couple of fools. Two fools in love. In a love that blinded you to anything else.

You should have told him to go. Should have told him that one night was all you could have. Even thinking that, your chest seized like your heart was being compressed under a massive weight. 

There was no you without Fontaine. And there was no Fontaine without you, you hoped.

Check out the Tyrone masterlist if you need more in your life! The Secret Tyrone Files

Graphics by saradika-graphics

[floofeh-purpi]

Getting Isekai'd?! (Part 4)

Sagau! Genshin Fatui x Gn! Reader (ft. Your bsf)

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@justmare @mc-cos-charm

YEY NEW FLUFFBALL, HIII!!!

☆

Sidenote: CUS ITS BEEN RAINING IN MAINLA HINDI KABA NILALAMIG?! (Song reference lol) 😫

Warnings: Cursing, grammatical/spelling errors, my delulu-ahh brain forgot to write english isnt my first language and im too lazy to edit the other warnings again, me probably switching the povs alot because... yeah, filipino reader maybe speaking tagalog and bisaya, mentions of you having a wound on one of your feet, blood, author's shitty attempts at making you laugh.

【Part 3】

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

You eventually woke up from your nap coma with a sore ass throat and a somehow still fully batteried phone. "Ok, how the fuck is my phone still 100%?! 😰 But atleast I dont have to wait 2 hours to charge my phone lmao." You mused out inside your head cus you'd say it out loud ur throat would even more sore than it already fucking is.

"I should've bought a water bottle with me earlier... ☹" You thought as you putted your phone inside one of the pockets of your pajamas and slowly went downstairs and went to the kitchen.

You sneaked into the kitchen undetected by guests. Because all you wanted to do right now was sleep again rest. Anygays, you gobbled the entire glass of water within one go and putted the glass into the sink. "Nah, y/b/f/n's gonna wash them dishes today lmao." You thought before you plugged your earphones into your phone and listened to your playlist while humming softly to the song before going upstairs.

☆

The harbingers heard someone humming in where they assumed is the kitchen before someone passed by the living room still humming and with a tiny-ahh smile going upstairs. "Oh my~ Who was that beautiful person~?" Asked the Damselette. Its true though, you were the prettiest person y/b/f/n met. "That was Y/n. :)" The harbingers and the Tsaritsa's eyes widened at that name. But are still in denial because they need to confirm just one more thing. Denial, denial, denial IS a river in Eygpt 💀🙌

☆

You eeked mentally when your playlist started playing 'Good Looking by Suki Waterhouse' (Recommend listening to it 10000/10) since you dont have spotify premium and you ran out of skips. 😔

You sat down on the chair infront of your desk, which was messier than dogshit. "Omfg im too lazy to clean it up rn 😭🙌" you thought before you grabbed some paper that you totally didnt rip out from y/b/f/n's notebook like 2 days ago before yall were isekai'd and started drawing basically a city. Aka the city you lived in before this fiasco happened.

*Insert your drawing here cus I cant find anything that was close to my imagination 🥲*

After you finished drawing, you gave your arms a very well needed stretch you desperately needed that shit after sitting down with a posture looking like a fucking shrimp if you looked at what you looked like in the side for 3 fucking hours while your earphones were still playing music, "Finally done, im tired again lmao" you thought before you slept on your chair like when its math class 💔 because you were too fucking sleepy to even get out of your chair its comfier that those damned armchairs you'd sleep on during math class. 💀

But then, your foot accidentally hitted the leg of the table so fucking hard, that it caused the sleepiness in you to go *poof* "PUTANG INA NING LAMESA 👹" (Fuck this table) you yelled loud enough for only yourself to hear you held back your tendency to scream out filipino curses loud enough for the entire damn universe to hear you because... well, the people downstairs... Are downstairs...—

You felt your atoms and dna coursing inside you still shaking at the collision of your foot and the table, whats even worse is that the foot was the one that was wounded, which made the pain all the fucking worse.

"Bandages be damned. I need to fucking change these little shits. Bweshet nih. 😔" You cursed out loud as your throat wasnt as sore as earlier we call it mineral water for a reason /jk, you made your way into your bathroom while not walking normally.

♤

You were just drinking some water in kitchen peacefully, and of course your clumsy ass hand somewhat slipped and you accidentally dropped it onto the floor... and your foot. You winced at shards of bloodied glass digging into the flesh of your foot as sat on the nearest chair while y/b/f/n tended to your wound/s OHMIGASH KILIG NAKO AYIEEEEEEE!!!!!

♤ (End of flashback)

You got some bandages which were fortunately on the sink from the last time you changed your bandages and forgetting to put it back to its original place AGAIN, but you didnt give a shit rn. But as soon as you unwrapped your bandages, instead of the crimson blood you were expecting to see on your wound, the blood was... golden.

"...What the fuck?"

☆

YEY FINISHED PART 4!!! My hands are tired from holding the phone but its ok ❤

Filipino readers where u at? 😭

【Part 5】

Published: June 30 2024. 10:38pm.

[irishmammonagenda]

Hello! I hope your requests are open 🧚‍♀️

Can i ask, what brothers' reaction would be on MC who sings something like MSI (you know smth like "son of a bitch! God's like me!") or just alternative rock/punk in general?

Answer only if you're okay with that❤️

Have a great day🏃‍♂️

hihi‼️(i love the amount of emojis u use i can feel ur personality through the screen teehee)

i absoluetley can‼️‼️ also tysm for the new music to listen to (im kind of new to alt rock and punk i only really used to listen to MCR lmao😭)

anyway this was fun to write

grma for the ask <3

Obey Me Brothers React to MC Being a Wee Emo.

DISCLAIMER: emo is used as a word because where im from emo is used to describe nearly any type of alternative fashion bc we're all dumb over here app, also im 2% sure pop punk/poprock is emo music bc i think thats what mcr is, so we're going w/ it ig, the only thing ik abt music is that bars 13-20 in the dambusters themetune has fanfare so if i get any terms wrong lmk 😔✊

WARNINGS: There's a slight slight hint of drinks being spiked in Beel's one. nothing ever happens its just him keeping an eye on your drink at a concert just in case.

LUCIFER

He hears music blasting in the music room in the House of Lamentation.

At first he just sighs, it sounds like the type of music Belphie would listen to when trying to plan out another Anti-Lucifer League. The teenage angst probably helped fuel the seventh born’s desire and motivation to prank him.

He sneaks into the Music room. Technically he just walked in quietly, but you still jumped when you saw him.

"L-Lucifer!! Hiya!!" You say awkwardly, not looking the first born in they eyes. "What's up?" He blinks slowly at you, fighting the urge to place a gloved hand on the bridge of his nose and pinch it in disappointment (and/or second hand embarrassment) "I'm not going to say anything. Just keep it down, MC." He sighs, normally he'd have lectured you. But it reminded him too much of a wolf-cut, guyliner filled past that for the sake of his pride, he did not want to remember.

He wasn't a stranger to musical genres, the man collects records for fuck's sake.

The drums and guitars he can normally get behind. Especially with catchy rhythms.

The lyrics?....they're normally a hit or miss. It really depends on the song.

'God likes me' (MSI) 'Hail Mary, Forgive Me' (PTV) Religious references just kind of ruin some songs for him.

Lucifer spends his time collecting cursed records, but your music taste is a special kind of cursed MC.

Although, he is strangely supportive in his own way.

"MC, Lord Diavolo has gifted me some tickets to concert [small devildom band] is putting on, I thought you would enjoy it."

(Lucifer bought the tickets himself.)

MAMMON

Haha, Emo!

"Yer a wee emo so ye are, MC"

It's not exactly his style of music (the man listens to Kneecap ffs)

BUT!!! He wants to share things with you dammit! Let him listen to your stupid emo music with you!!! He's your first man!!!

He does, however learn how to play guitar so he can play some simple chords while you sing horrible improvised lyrics with horrible improvised chords.

You don't have the heart to tell him that acoustic guitars aren't normally used in Punk/Rock music.

The sound of horribly improvised chord progressions ring out in your bedroom as you and your first man stand back to back, horrible matching messy eyeliner on both of yours and Mammon's eyes as you hold a hairbrush to your mouth and improvise lyrics. That is, if you can even get them out of your mouth before laughing. "Blood in my body! Because I'm aliveeee!!!" You sing off key while Mammon strums the guitar. "Love in my Bugatti! Because The Great Mammon can drive!" You laugh. Mammon whistles while missing out on the fingering of a chord and then pretending it didn't happen.

LEVIATHAN

The first thought in this man's mind is karaoke.

He sends you a playlist of Rocky kinda anime openings that you should totally listen to.

He's the least shocked and weirded out, (not that the others are weirded out)

He really likes your singing voice. It doesn't matter if you're a horrible singer, its you so it makes him happy.

You guys could do a duet? If it wasn't too much for you to sing with a stinky smelly otaku like him :(

"Levi-" You sigh, looking at the Levi shaped lump of seaweed in his aquiriam, the demon's tail twitches through the pile of aquatic plant, showing that he's listening. "Levi... Of course I'd love to do Karaoke with you...You didn't give me a chance to answer before jumping into the tank! C'mon!" It takes Levi a few more minutes before he feels ready to leave his seaweed pile, his face is completely red, but there's a small smile on his face as you set up the karaoke machine.

SATAN

Satan enjoys your music taste.

He likes most if not all human world music because music is so important to culture and he loves learning about human world culture.

What he doesn't like however, is people dropping his name in lyrics for edginess smh.

No MC, no one in Je T'aime is his bitch. Please stop asking.

He also takes you to gigs! Because why not!

The blond haired demon sat in the bar, earning a few looks from the people surrounding them. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his jumper and jeans and the book in his hands in comparision to black denim and leather, chains and sub-cultural clothes that everyone else was wearing. Satan payed it no mind as you came back with the drinks, all decked out in clothing matching the rest of the people in the venue in style. "Hope you weren't waiting long....the lines were long!" Satan takes a drink from your hand and sips it, giving a soft smile, "Not at all."

ASMODEUS

The music is a hit and miss tbh, he prefers the more pop punk kind of thing, leaning more into pop than anything else.

He likes paramore though!

Loves the clothes associated with the genres and subcultures of the music! Adopts some of it into his own style!

(He alters it heavily, but some designs are inspired by the subcultures)

He could be your adorable gorgeous boyfriend and you could be the wee emo gremlin partner!

The opposites attract will look so cute on his Devilgram.

But he geniunely supports you and your interests, he designs and makes clothes for you in the style associated with your music taste.

He even makes you merch of your favourite bands and albums inspired into clothes.

He also does your makeup before you go out to concerts or gigs

Your his emo after all.

You squirm as Asmo runs his fingers along your flushed skin, he laughs as you jerk away. "It's just a brush, it wont hurt you darling!" He laughs, putting more black eyeshadow onto the makeup brush and applying it---or atleast trying to---to your eyelids, biting back teasing comments as you jerk away. You were ticklish god dammit! It wasn't like you were meaning to! It was a natural reflex!

BEELZEBUB

He likes it.

but not because he enjoys the music persay. Don't get him wrong he can listen to it and enjoy it but he wouldn't normally seek it out.

He likes it because you and Belphie like it, and the style reminds him of the both of you.

In terms of rock music he likes the more slow ballady types. Belphie normally listens to them when he has trouble falling asleep.

Very supportive.

If you're ever in the Mosh Pit in a concert, Beel will go with you, you're just so tiny and people can push you about! (You're tiny to him. So yes MC, his point still stands.)

Taking that back, if you're at a concert, Beel's probably with you. Unless you're with another brother, Even then, Beel's probably going to come.

Bro is like your own bodyguard.

Reports to Lucifer when at concerts and makes sure you're not taking any illegal substances, you don't know what's in them MC!

He makes sure nothing is put in your drink either.

He just wants to keep you safe :(

Beel had been staring at the cup in your hands back and forth for a while now, you smile and offer it up to him. "Want a sip, Beelie? You've been staring at my drink a lot" You practically shout over the music. You weren't in the mosh pit, and though you stood a good distance away, the music was still loud. Beel shakes his head, pointing to his pint and smiling his closed eye smile, "No thanks, MC. I'm just making sure you're staying hydrated and don't need refills." He says truthfully, though that truth isn't whole. You grin, "Aww...that's so sweet!" Turning your attention away from him and back to the stage, Beel wraps an arm around your waist. Eyes alert and wary when someone so much as walked past, or a crowd member got a little too close while dancing. He was overprotective and cautious. But you deserved to be safe.

BELPHEGOR

Give him back his albums what the actual fuck.

Look just because he takes your life it doesn't mean you get to take his music taste.

Wowwww. Petty.

Fine, you can borrow his limited edition special cut vinyls.

What? Lucifer's not the only one with a record collection.

He did not get this idea from Lucifer, No you Liar.

He did.

Belphie listens to rock ballads to get to sleep when he has trouble sleeping and when he wants to.

Sometimes when you nap together he puts some on.

It's kind of like a white noise machine.

Will go to concerts with you and Beel, but has to have slept for atleast 2 whole days leading up to it so people don't think he's passed out in the crowd.

Mention any similarites about his little music vinyl collections to Lucifer's cursed record selections he will not let you borrow any for atleast 3 days.

Long before Eve bit the apple and the brother's wings turnt black, a small boy with indigo hair wakes up from a nap, pouty lips wobbling when he realises his twin is nowhere to be found. Belphie sniffles, but doesn't break into tears. He's a big boy now! Big boys don't cry when they miss their twins! Beel was probably out on a walk with Michael and Lilith in her stroller! He'd come back! But still, Belphie's bottom lip trembled, eyes watering, the little boy didn't like being seperated from his twin! He was about to cry when he heard loud music coming from a room down the hall. More curious than anything, Belphie gets off of his bed, and (taking his teddy bear with him) walks down the hall following the sound. Though his walk was more of a waddle with his tiny legs. He'd never heard anything like it before! When Beel got back he could tell him about his discovery! Soon enough he reaches a slightly cracked open door and the music is super loud here. This must be it! Waddling into the room, Belphie could see a figure laying spread eagle on one of the beds. Half of the room decorated in colour with one bed and the half of the room with the person laying on the bed was almost completely in black with a bunch of posters on the walls. Most importantly, on the floor lay a box with a spinny thing spinning that seemed to be playing the sounds! Belphie held his teddy in one hand and lifted up the thing that was running across the big black circle. Immediately the sound stopped and the figure sat up, with layered dark shoulder length hair, layered dark black white and red clothes, and enough eyeliner to paint the colourful bright half of the room pitch black. A teen Lucifer looks down at Belphie with a sour expression, upset his mope session had been interrupted. "What are you doing here?" He asks the small indigo-haired angel. Belphie looks up at him with wide, sparkling eyes before pointing to the record player. "Why's it makin' sound? There's no choir in there...." Lucifer's eyes soften. His mope session about meeting the demon prince, not hating him, and finding him pretty like the human he met down in the human world could wait. "It's a record player, Belphs." The teenager's too emo, the end is nigh, everything sucks, too cool for love and affection persona drops and reveals his softie interior. Lucifer picks up his younger brother and places him on his bed as he takes out the record that was playing in the record player and putting on one that would be much less intimidating for someone as young as Belphie. He sits back onto the bed and the small boy cuddles up to his big brother, ever the affectionate child. As the record plays on Belphie grins up at Lucifer, revealling one missing front tooth. He had lost them early, shortly after Beel's tooth had fallen out. Lucifer grinned too, suppressing a chuckle at how Beel hadn't even realised his tooth was wobbly until he bit into his breakfast and found his tooth lodged into the food. "Luci! I likes this music!" "Do you?" "Mhm!" Lucifer grins, petting his youngest brother's head. "I'll tell you what. For your birthday I'll get you your very own record player and lend you some vinyls, we can even go to the human world and pick some new ones out. I'll show you how to play them when you have them, okay?" "Okay! Thank you Luci!" After a while, the songs change from high energy into ballads, Belphie's eyes grow heavier, as do his big brother's. Belphie curled up into the elder's side, abandoning his teddy bear for grabbing at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt with tiny grubby hands as he nodded off. Lucifer made sure to try not to move, in result of the slow rock ballad music and staying completely still so not to jostle and wake up his youngest brother who would 100% get cranky if woken. Slowly, Lucifer's eyes start to close, and he falls into a soft slumber as well.

And hey, if Michael returned from his walk, and after leaving Beel and Lilith into a play room went to check in on Lucifer and saw that sight; and then proceeded to grin and take multiple photos of said sight from multiple angles to use as blackmail on his little emo twin brother Lucikins on a later occassion, then that was Michael’s business and Michael’s business alone. And Lucifer's business when Michael didn't want to do the dishes when it was his night to do them, of course.

But if you ask, Belphie'll tell you that visiting the human world is what got him interested in that type of music.

Because he's a stinky smelly little liar and should be locked up in an attic.

On a side note he bullies you for being 'emo' :(

Bro is such a hypocrite.

But to be geniune, Belphie loves that he can share his music with you. He's happy you can bond over this with him.

Not that he'd ever outright tell you.

But you can tell in the way he gives you albums and vinyls as gifts, and makes you little playlists of ballads to sleep to. (He's gotten you into the habit smh.)

[demonshauntingthedoves]

Chapter 2

Perfedious : A disloyal and faithless person.

Pairing : Yandere!Seokjin x female reader (Mirae)

Summary : You had dreamt of a beautiful man who held a diamond ring in his hand for you and the dream had come true when you saw Seokjin holding the same diamond ring and he slipped it on - your sister's finger - not yours. Sometimes what you want happens in the worst way possible.

Warnings : Heavy Angst, Family Problems, Age gap, Dilf, Dub-Con, Infidelity, Affair, Toxic Behaviour, Eventual Yandere, Eventual Smut, Just wait for Seokjin's dark Pov [hehehe].

Word Count : 3865+

You woke up feeling groggy and lazy after a lethargic noon nap.

Minsu and Seokjin had flown to Paris for their so-called honeymoon.

You had to hide your irritation when she had excitedly waved the package tickets on your face. She was beyond ecstatic.

You had slumped and shrinked in your room after they left. Your house filled with silence and gloom.

You missed her already. You missed both of them.

The trail of your hopeless thoughts was cut off when you heard something drop on the floor downstairs. It would be your mother. She purposely clank the cutlery to make noises, to annoy you, a telltale sound when she wanted you down.

Reluctantly, you jumped out of bed and trudged down the stairs to the kitchen.

And there she was throwing away all the ramen packets you had bought to satiate your hunger pangs.

You were livid, the ramen was one of your favourite quick meals, something you relied on when you were too lazy to cook. And not like your mother fed you well when Minsu was away.

"What are you doing?" You shreeched in anger.

She turned to look at you with a blank and unbothered face as if she wasn't throwing your food.

"I don't want this trash in my house."

She said, as she moved to throw another packet in the bin. She didn't make any dinner last night, the poor noodles came handy, and now she had the audacity to throw them.

You ran to her with heavy stamps and tried to snatch the pack which led to a bit of scuffle.

"What is your problem?" You shouted in pure frustration.

"My problem is that I don't want this trash in my kitchen.You need to eat healthy and not this junk." She shouted suddenly, making you flinch.

You backed away and chuckled in mirth and disbelief.

"Like you ever worried about my health. You starved me yesterday and now you care!!!"

" You should know how to feed yourself. You're not a toddler to be pampered. You can't rely on me or Minsu all the time! " Her heated words did little to cool your boiling rage.

" I did. I did cook the ramen and fed myself." You said through gritted teeth, so tempted to spew out curses.

You were so furious, towards yourself. You had promised yourself that you would control and not be a part of this pointless wordmatch. But here you were.

"I said healthy food!" She clarified. Looking at you as if you were a dumb cow.

You gulped all the molten rage you wanted to fire at her. You're learning to cook healthy. You know how to. It's just once or a few times that you eat packaged food.

You sighed. If you continue, you'd never hear the end of it.

" So you care about me? " You changed the subject but didn't back down before hitting a nerve. You already knew the answer. You directed the fragile question in a mocking way.

One thing you were thankful for was that your mother never put her hands on you. Even though she seemed like she could beat you nuts, she didn't. She didn't cross that line.

But her sharp tongue would always do all the job her hands couldn't.

" If I didn't care about you, you'd be on the road today, thrown like this trash."

You just stared at her with an incredulous face. Wondering how she always managed to prick a needle in your heart.

She threw the ramen in the dustbin with a loud thud and purposely slided the spoon holder off the counter, all the spoon clattering on the floor with a disturbing sound. She walked past you muttering bitter,

"Useless trash…."

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

You thought you could deal with it.

A stomach ache. It lasted for three days including today, only change being your periods joining the pain party.

You could take care of it, deal with these unwanted cramps. Spurs of pain shooting in your lower tummy. But you weren't able to focus much in the lectures.

During break, you drank water and began to eat lunch, thinking you'd feel better. But it got worse when your head started to spiral, heart palpilated and vision distorted.

You were about to faint.

Ari rushed you to the infirmary, supporting your hobbling body.

Tears clung to your lashes, as you limplessly fell on the ward bed. Ari remained beside you with concerned eyes. Cheeks flushed with sweat and embarrassment, you answered the nurse. The woman put you on saline, asking you to rest. Ari rung Minsu, quickly informing of your condition. She disappeared to bring your backpack.

The white walls of the infirmary screamed "You are weak!" in a hundred ways. You were beyond disappointment. You were going to be eighteen soon. Step into adulthood. Like this, like a weakling. Miserable. Good for nothing. Trash. Your mother was right.

Amidst the blaming noises, you heard Seokjin's voice, your heart plummeting with cold terror.

No. No. No.

You didn't want him to witness you like this- in a sorry state.

You clutch your eyes shut in humiliation, turning your head to the wall on the other end.You wanted to disappear, wanted to sink into the ground.

You felt his presence, rosewood scent diffusion in the antiseptic room. He squeezed your hand, his warm fingers touching your sweaty forehead and neck to check the temperature.

"Rae…?"

You couldn't escape this. You hesitantly faced him with droopy eyes- casted down to his hand which caressed yours. You couldn't look in his eyes- definitely full of pity. He'd think how pathetic and vulnerable you were. Couldn't handle a stomach ache.

"Are you feeling better now?" He asked softly.

Not at all. Why did he come instead of Minsu? You didn't want him here. Didn't want him to see your sickened swollen face.

You nodded. Gazing at his Rolex. You were bothered by a very different reason to care about your stomach anymore.

"Her BP is very low. It can happen due to blood loss during menstruation. The dose will work for now but she needs to stay more hydrated and eat well."

The nurse checked on you again. Passing a sympathetic smile which did little to ease your mortification. Your eyes shifted to Seokjin's. Sweetly staring soft appeals.

He had rushed all the way here. Decided to invest his precious time for your silly inconvenience. You instantly felt guilty for wasting his time.

"I'm sorry." You apologised, tears welling up. You didn't want to cry but you couldn't help it. " I know I wasted your time with all this."

"No, Rae. You didn't disrupt any of my time.It's fine. Minsu had an urgent meeting, so she couldn't come."

"I'm just s-sorry!" You sobbed, covering your mouth. You felt horrible.

"Rae, I know how you feel."

You looked at him. His honey molten eyes softened with genuine worry and empathy.

"It's alright.You're alright. Illness just comes and goes." He understood your plight.

" You don't need to blame yourself for it. It's alright to feel weak in such moments, you're only human. Sweet little human at that."

He booped your red nose and wiped your tears, offering you his angelic smile.

" But from now on, you need to take more care of yourself. Got it? "

You nodded again, no more self conscious, too consumed by his aisling presence.

Seokjin took you home. You glared at all the girls who ogled at him while walking out of school.

Once home, your drained self refused to eat anything but Seokjin stubbornly spoon fed you before taking medicine. It all felt so casual, too natural. As if you had known each other for a long time. And not just two months.

" Always remember that we are there for you, Rae. It's not wrong to need someone, to seek help. You shouldn't think that you're a burden or bother to us or anyone. You're not. Okay? " He said whilst handing you the prescribed pills.

"And you can always count on me. I'll be there for you." His voice, like a gentle candace, assured you. He was so considerate.

You smiled gratefully.You just wanted to hug him and you did. Awkwardly so.The moment your body brushed his, the tender symphonies played in your heart yet again. They grew louder every time you were close to him.

"Thankyou." you murmured against his chest.

His warm body felt millennial times better than the cold pillow you snuggled in at night. He felt like home. Warm and cosy. You clung to him like a homesick fool.

Reluctantly, you retracted your arms from his back, looking up at him. You'd love to be a stargazer and peer into Seokjin's eyes. For all the twinkles hid in there.

This wasn't the first time you were close to him. The first time was when you had bumped into him and fell down. He had offered you his hand and tugged you up, but you had again clumsily stumbled over him.Your noses brushed. Breaths fluttered. Eyes locked. You had never been that close to a man before. The lub dubs of your heart had quickened.

And you knew. From then on, every vault and crevice of your mind would be filled with his and his thoughts only.

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

She was smiling.

Your mother was smiling. Not the one she feigned and faked outdoors to show her charms and courtesy. This was a genuine one. It reached her eyes.

Even the walls of your cramped house would be flabbergasted to hear her laughs. And so were you and Minsu. Your mother seemed too happy. Her face beamed as she spoke to Seokjin.

She had invited them for dinner.

You had seen the shift in her. She was so engrossed in cooking, humming and smiling dreamily. It was uncanny.

You'd never seen her being so affectionate, never thought she ever could be. All directed towards Seokjin, the man in the spotlight. You were confused at first but then it became clear.

She saw in Seokjin the son she never had.

It had stung, this was the part you always longed for, her affection and attention. Minsu was happy with this little change.

Even after finishing his, Seokjin wanted another piece of cake and to his surprise, he received three. Mother's, Minsu's and Yours too. Ending up eating the whole cake.

Ofcourse, God had favourites. So did your mother.

She was always soft spoken to him. Brought him a specially woven traditional coat. Prepared his favourite dishes and sent them to his office.

But she had wicked favours too.

She'd complain how the furniture was broken and coax him to buy new ones. Months later, your house looked like a complete renovation. All thanks to Seokjin's wallet.

Seokjin was too nice for his own good.

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

You watched the delicate butterflies dance on flower petals, heart fluttering in synchrony.

It was your birthday.

Like every night, you were busy indulging in your fruitless thoughts. Fantasising about certain someone .

Only to see him in your room. You yelped in utter horror. His smiley face appeared out of nowhere, glowing in the candle light.

"Ta-da!"

Minsu switched on the lights, running to hug you with a wide smile.

"Happy Birthday Rae!"

You cut the cake. Wishing for the wellbeing of the two favourite people in your life.

You fed the cake to Minsu. You were so grateful to have her. You both had bonded strongly, sharing mutual hatred towards your mother. Offered each other a shoulder to lean on.

Unexpectedly, Seokjin smeared the icing, staining yours and Minsu's cheeks each.

You were going to pounce on him. But Minsu beat you to it, running to him like a wildcat. Their infectious laughter slowly seeped into every corner of the room, making it lively and joyous.

Your heart sank when you saw them kiss, cake forgotten, bitter taste on your sweet tongue, eyes on Seokjin's hand wrapped around Minsu's waist.

You shouldn't feel this way.

You couldn't let this crush get to your head.

He was your sister's husband.

You needed to stay away from him.

Your special morning started with a visit to the butterfly sanctuary. A colourful start. You were amazed to see the tiny butterflies, erratically fluttering here and there. Golden monarchs flaunting. Gracefully kissing sweet scenting flowers they pass by.

You walked in wonder. Eyes darted away from the couple beside you. Clicking pictures of butterflies. Most of them flying freely in the garden but some were kept in glass boxes. The rare ones. You gazed at the poised pink butterfly. So big and beautiful. You smiled at it.

Your lashes fluttered up at the man on the other side of the box, eyes fixated on the same butterfly. Through the glass, his eyes met yours, the moment suspended, they flashed with something for a fleeting second. But they turned into slits.soon after, as he passed you a smile.

The symphonies started to blare in your heart. Louder. Butterflies erupting in your stomach.

No. You had told yourself that you would avoid Seokjin at all cost. You forced a smile and walked away.

Despite him arranging everything for your birthday, you ignored him all the time, it made your insides twinge with a little guilt.

But you could'nt deny that this was your bestest birthday.

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

"You should write a song." Ari babbled our of no where. You pinched your brows, a questioning look on your face. " On hopeless romance." She joked, busy swiping your birthday pictures.

You rolled your eyes, knowing she is spewing nonsense, going back to playing your guitar.

Seokjin gifted it. You wanted to jump on him and hug him tightly but you knew better. You loved music and always wanted a guitar of your own. You were so happy.

" A butterfly sanctuary, then the folk music museum, then the aquarium and then the lavish restaurant with jazz music. Fuck! Didn't he tick off all the places you wanted to visit just in a single day! " Ari spoke with widened eyes, amused.

"So what? I didn't even look at him the whole time." You said with furrowed brows. Plucking the strings, checking the tune.

Ari smirked, zooming in a picture where you and Seokjin were closest. Seokjin was looking at you, as you smile at the camera. " I can see that. But really you just fussed all day for no reason then!"

"He kissed her. Right in front of me. That too on my birthday night!" You let out, anger veiling your sadness.

" But he did all this. Took a leave, spend a whole fucking day off for you. Maybe he wanted to make it up to you." Why was she defending him? And why she being so delusional?

" He just did it all for Minsu. Because she'll be happy if I'm happy." You said, fingers stroking the strings aimlessly.

"You're being illogical. I have a brother in law too but he never did all this things for me."

" He treats me like a child. That day they both were pamparing me like I'm their daughter. And I absolutely hated it."

" Look you should see it in this way, if they see you like their child, they won't think of having one."

" Shut up!!" You face twisted in a weird expression. Mouth twitching into disgust. You detested the thought. "You are talking absolute nonsense! " She was being ridiculous.

Ari sat up nicely, hearing the door creak open, Minsu walked in.

"Hello girlies!" She greeted you both, placing her purse on the bed. She directly came here from work, looking at her working attire.

"Glued to the guitar already. I knew you would love this gift." She settled on the bed, scrambling through her bag. "Talking about gift, mine was pending. Here it is."

You opened the envelope, staring at the document. It was something related to ownership of a house.

"You bou…." She cut you off "Yes, we bought a house. We're moving to the house next door. Right beside yours." The moment her words reached you, your lips stretched into the widest smile. You were beyond elated. All the previous thoughts thrown out the window.

You snuggled in her neck, hugging her tightly. "I'm so happy" You looked at Ari across Minsu's neck. Her smiled mirrored yours, witnessing the soft moment of both sisters. " Thankyou so much. This is the best gift ever. We'll be close now." You hated to live alone, with your mom at that.

"I have another news, Rae." You nodded on her shoulder, asking her to continue, still not ready to detach.

" I think I'm pregnant."

And just like that your blissful smile dimed.

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

(Present)

"When are you coming back?" He asked. You chewed the inside of your cheek, clutching the phone to your ear with quivering fingers.

" I-I'm not sure, Jin. The therapy will take more time." You sighed. "When I start to think it's getting better, the ache returns and it only gets worse." You explained to him.

You're not sure, not specific enough about which ache were you talking about. The ache in your stomach which had been tormenting you for months now. Or the ache in your…Nevermind.

"I hope the therapy works. I've been loaded with this project right now or I would have come to see you myself." He grumbled in slight frustration.

You shook your head vigorously and tried to silence your rushing breath.

"No- no Jin, don't worry about me. I'm better than before and Grandma is taking good care of me." That was the last thing you wanted. Him visiting here.

" Fine. But you know Minsu is worried sick and so am I. Good that she told me how you were doing when you weren't picking up my calls but hers." He said calmly letting you know that he obviously knew- you were avoiding him.

You stayed mute raking your mind for some excuse but he continued.

"Soojin had her recitation but no one was there to prepare her so she didn't go. Since then, she has been upset with us and more upset with you-that her aunt wasn't there."

"I know." You said sadly. Her pouting face flashed in your mind.

" And work is waiting, it's been two months now. I've managed till now but I cannot always cover up." He tried to control his tone.

"I know." You furrowed your brows and said in an inaudible voice.

He could. He could always cover up for you. But he was casting reasons to get you back home. To him.

" You don't. You don't know, Rae. Everyone misses you here." He sighed, digging yet another soft spot.

" I miss you all too, Jin. You need to un-" You voice cracked, feeling guilty and weak.

" No, you don't!" He sternly claimed." You didn't even tell me when you left. Am I that insignificant to you?" Your eyes welled up.

"No-" He cut you off yet again.

" Am I forcing you to talk to me? Tell me? I'll not call you from now on if you don't want me to." His words were snappy, tone upset.

A long pause dragged, he, waiting for your answer.

Your throat constricted. You couldn't speak a single word.

You didn't like how he spoke. He never used such a harsh tone with you. You were one minute away from breaking down.

You withdrew your phone and cut the call. You couldn't exchange any more words with him without crying your eyes out. And that's the last thing you wanted to do.

You thought that if you distanced yourself from him, he would just let go, forget about you and focus on his family. But that wasn't the case.

He was there, waiting for you.

To come back to him.

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

You clutched your head with both hands, feeling your head spiral again.Your body felt fatigued after throwing up so much.

This unusual dizziness had clung to you for so long.You assumed it was a passing illness due to emotional stress but it remained for several days. Months now.

When it didn't get better from local clinic medicines, you decided to visit your Grandma and take her treatment instead of the city hospital.

You grandma patted your hair as you plopped on the dining chair lethargically. You quickly gulped the bitter liquid she gave you for your upset stomach. You rested your elbows on the table and covered your teary eyes.

"It will get better Rae. Have faith."

"It's been months now, grams." You sobbed.

"Do you want to visit the hospital?"

You shook your head,

"No, I'll get better with your treatment." You rubbed your red eyes and nose before putting on a smile to convince her.

Three months had gone in thin air.

You looked in the mirror, your body had fattened. You lightly slapped the plush of your cheeks and turned to find the outline of your breast and butt look more rounder.

Despite you throwing up all the food, you managed to gain weight. How was that even possible?

You removed your top to put on something lighter, but as you glanced in the mirror again, your eyes fell on it.

And you ignored it. Stubbornly ignored it.

You knew exactly what was happening to your body. You had lied to your Grandma that you were on birth control. You had also lied that you were getting your periods.

You were already on edge. There was so much going on in your mind, that you didn't allow much space for this thought. You had brushed it off in denial. Ignored it. Knowing well, that if you let this situation get to your head, you were finally going to lose it.

Third month, you came to accept it. You were horrified when you realised it.It couldn't be more obvious. All the signs were so clear. You wondered why hadn't your Grandma kicked you out already.

Your heart was filled with absolute dread and wonder at the same time.

There was a life growing inside you.

And you couldn't keep it.

You had scurried to the small pharmacy in the further corner of the town. Asked for abortion pills. You took it at night, lights switched off, in darkness, too afraid, too unwilling to witness another of your sins. Killing a life.

You had been taking the pills for a few days. You needed to get rid of it.

Maybe you had sensed it from the start. Your intuitions gnawing. Like the silence before a storm. A disaster. Your body had hinted. That's why you had run away from home and hidden. But what you didn't know was that the cause of the disaster was within you. Growing inside you.

" Please don't tell mom. Not now. Please!" You begged your Grandma, hysterically crying. She got to know. Your bump had grown. The pills didn't work. You had chugged the whole bottle in your mouth.

If your mother got to know, she'd kill you. You cannot imagine the mortification you'll be in when you face Minsu. What will you tell her? What will you tell Jin?

A new splash of cold terror poured on you.

What will you tell him?

Previous I Main Masterlist

A/N - Finally done! I've kinda dragged this chapter a bit. Wanted to show the (very slow) dynamic between Jin and Rae. The last scene is my favourite. I wrote this whole thingy just to get to that one part. Also, I personally love Ari more than all the Mcs in this. Lol.

Let me know which part you liked.

Please vote and reblog. Let me know if you want to join the taglist.

@themochiverse @ephemeralliving

[heavyhitterheaux]

Teenage Woes Part 2

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

AN: Here we gooo

Synopsis: A certain person finds out what the triplets have done and takes matter into her own hands to set them straight while Jack it at his wits end with Axel's antics

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read Part 1 first

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You had just gotten back from Aruba and it was around four in the morning. Attempting to walk into the house quietly, you took to the steps while dragging your huge suitcase behind you and silently cursed to yourself about how much you bought since your bedroom was in the middle of the hallway and you were doing your best to not have to take breaks.

Once you were finally in your room, Jack was sound asleep as you ventured over to the closet to begin to put your clothes away and peel off the clothes that you had on so you could hop in the shower and quickly get in bed in order to sleep. The goal was to sleep in for as long as you could before waking up your youngest three to help them get ready for the day while the oldest three were on their own. You meant what you had said before you left for your girls trip, that you wouldn’t bend over backwards for them anymore like you had been doing since they acted nothing but ungrateful towards you.

They had to learn the hard way and Jack was also in the same boat right along with them because he had gone behind your back and given them the okay to have their phones as well as their car keys and it wasn’t until you confronted him about it that he quickly took them back.

Once moisturized and in a clean set of pajamas, you looked at your phone to see that it was around 5:30 in the morning and decided to sleep in the guest room not even wanting to be bothered with Jack. All of them had a lot of making up to do in order to get back in your good graces. 

It was now close to 8 in the morning when you finally got up and made your way downstairs to see that Jack was packing lunch for Cash and Camden who were sitting at the table fascinated by something on their tablet and eating their breakfast. Once they saw you, they immediately hopped out of their seats in order to greet you.

“Mommy! You’re back.” Jack looked over at you and simply smiled at you which you didn’t bother to return. He would talk to you about it after he dropped the kids off at school.

“We missed you. Daddy can’t cook.” Camden whispered the last part in your ear and all you did was laugh.

“I missed you too. And he’s gotten a little better. Go and finish your food so that I can take you to school.”

“I’ll take them, babe. I know you only got here a few hours ago and you can go back to sleep.”

This caused you to do a double take as you looked over at your husband in disbelief before crossing your arms.

“Worry about your oldest three, not them. I don’t mind.”

“Just let me do this, okay? I took them already and they’ve been on their best behavior since you left..” Jack pleaded with you and you finally agreed.

“Well of course, they’ll always be on their best behavior for their favorite parent. Anyway, where’s Nova?”

“PRESENT! Mommy, you’re back! Can you help me with my hair?” Nova asked you as she came into the kitchen and you immediately nodded.

“Of course, how did you want it?”

“Two French braids please.”

She sat down at the end of the table and handed you the comb in order to part her hair and you quickly braided it. Once finished, you handed her back the comb to put back upstairs in her room and looked over at the clock on the wall to see that everyone needed to leave in the next ten minutes in order to not be late.

Cash got down from the table first taking his bowl with him before going over to Jack so he could put it in the sink while Camden soon followed after he took his last bite.

"Come on, let's wash your hands so we can get in the car and leave." Jack told the two of them and they each moved their step stool in front of the sink to do so while Nova was putting the last of her things in her backpack and you were deciding on what you wanted to eat.

"Say bye to mommy so we can go."

Cash was the first one to hop up into your lap and you proceeded to kiss his cheek as he gave you a hug.

"Love you, mommy."

"Love you too, bubs."

Camden quickly followed suit and soon you were put into a bone crushing hug by Nova. You swore that she grew two inches in the two weeks that you had been gone.

Jack leaned down to kiss the top of your head and bring you into a hug after she had finally let go. 

"I'm still mad at you." Was all you said to him and he sighed.

"Babe…."

"No. And I was serious about you using your hand for a month because you are not putting your hands anywhere near me."

"I… let me drop them off and we'll talk about it when I come back."

"There really isn't any to talk about because I made myself clear before I left how this was going to go. As for now I'm hungry and about to make myself food and then go back to sleep."

When Jack had gotten back, he found you in the kitchen making what looked to be brownies and he went to grab one as you quickly slapped his hand away.

"OW!"

"Don't touch that. They aren't for you."

"Baby, can you please tell me what I can do to fix this?" One thing that he hated was the two of you being at odds and he was really feeling it now because he was caught in the middle of what his triplets did.

"I'm just so over the situation that it doesn't even matter."

"Yes it does because my wife is walking around our house upset and all I want to do is make it better."

"You already know the answer so I shouldn't have to tell you. I am literally three seconds away from giving the triplets and you the silent treatment but I'm not going to. I should have stayed away longer." 

"We need to make a decision and stick to it no matter what regarding them."

"I told you that you already knew the answer and if Autumn steps another toe out of line, hair out of place…."

"She's not going to. I'll make sure of it."

"If she doesn't like me now, she seriously is not going to like me then." You answered thinking of possible consequences in your head. You had absolutely no problem sending her away until she learned how to respect you as well as the rules that you had set into place.

"She does love you, just…"

"No. You always take up for her and I'm sick and tired of it. You have done that ever since she was little and I distinctly remember you thinking that it was going to be me who let her get away with everything, but look how the tables have turned. I don’t even recognize my once sweet little girl."

The two of you used to be partners in crime until she turned fifteen and then you had no idea what happened. Something had shifted and it wasn’t a good shift. 

"Because she literally acts like you. I know you've noticed. She actually came to me and asked what she could do for you to accept her apology." 

"But the disrespect towards me? I never did that to my mother or father because I knew better. And it seems like ever since they turned 16, they don't know how to fucking act but for her it started last year. But remember she's not apologizing if she doesn't mean it. I'm not taking care of anyone who is not grateful for all that I do towards them. I love them with everything in me and I do not take for granted the opportunity to be a mother, but they are seriously testing my patience." You answered while placing another batch in the oven.

"I agree that it was uncalled for and she should have never spoken to you like that."

"My patience is gone so…" You said while shrugging and Jack ran a hand through his curls.

"We'll get through this, babe."

"The only way we'll get through it is if we do this as a team."

“I know. So do you want to tell me why you slept in the guest room when you came back this morning?”

“Simple, I didn’t want to look at you.”

“BABY!”

“I’m just being honest. I needed a moment to myself and I really don’t get that anymore. You really made me feel as if what I say doesn’t hold any weight and doesn’t matter. I know you didn’t see it that way and apologized for it but still.”

“We have a surprise for you a little later this week and I think it will help ease some of the tension. But we’re all going to do better moving forward.”

“I’m not going to believe you until someone shows me.”

A few days later, it was Tuesday morning and Jack happened to be driving through Louisville in order to go to your favorite bakery to pick up the blueberry muffins that you like when he spotted Axel standing outside of Carmichael’s with a bunch of his friends and quickly turned around and pulled up outside of the store.

“AXEL WYATT HARLOW GET YOUR ASS IN THIS CAR NOW!”

Axel was startled at the sound of his father’s voice and he turned around to see him red in the face and fuming.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath and sighed before walking to the passenger side of the car and getting in.

Jack started driving and was silent for the entire time they rode to the bakery. Once he parked is when he finally turned to Axel.

“I’m convinced you want your mother to kill both of us.” Jack said while pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Dad…”

“I didn’t ask you to speak. So now we’re skipping school after me and your mother are paying that expensive ass tuition for all THREE of you to go there?”

“Please don’t tell her.”

“HOW CAN I NOT? SO I DROPPED YOU OFF AT SCHOOL THIS MORNING AND YOU DECIDED TO LEAVE AND WASTE MY MONEY IN THE PROCESS.”

“You have more than enough of it.” Axel muttered and Jack did a double take.

“Forget this gentle parenting. What the actual fuck is wrong with you? So you think money grows on trees now?”

“No…”

“Do you not know how hard me and your mother have worked for all six of you to live comfortably and not have a care in the world? I cannot believe that actually came out of your mouth. What happened to my little quiet innocent Axel who used to never talk back, never got an attitude, would always offer to help when you see that me, your mother, or siblings needed it? And you’ve been smoking because I smell it. So, once again you aren’t listening to the rules we’ve set in place.”

All Axel did was stay quiet.

“Being quiet now isn’t an answer. You had so much to say before so speak up. Since you want to step to me like you’re a grown ass man, stand on it. Obviously that means you can provide for yourself now, right?”

“I’m sorry.” Axel quietly said and Jack just shook his head at him. 

“Yeah, I bet you are. Go in the bakery and get your mom’s favorite muffins. That will be your peace offering after you tell her what you did and I will be standing there the entire time so try and lie to her if you want.”

Axel took Jack’s credit card and did what he was told and actually came back with two containers of them knowing that one probably wasn’t going to be enough.

Once the two of them reached the house, it was around 12 PM and you were caught off guard as you saw Jack with Axel and he was holding two containers of muffins.

“Jack…” You started to say, but all he did was cross his arms to look at Axel.

“Tell her what you did.”

“Umm…”

“What is going on? Ax, are you okay? Are you hurt?” You asked now, becoming nervous and checking him out for bumps and bruises. 

“5….4…3…” Jack began to say, but Axel immediately blurted it out.

“Skipped school and dad caught me in front of Carmichael’s and I was smoking. I got your favorite muffins as a peace offering.” Axel hesitantly said as he placed the muffins on the counter and all you were doing was looking at him.

Nothing was said for a few minutes as you were trying to regulate your breathing and this made both of them become nervous.

You calmly walked past both of them in the direction of the stairs and they were calling out to you in order to get your attention.

“MOM!”

“Babe!”

All you did was go up the steps and proceed to slam your bedroom door and lock it before either of them could get to you. 

“Mom! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I promise!” Axel said while knocking on your bedroom door while Jack was simply behind him pacing back and forth.

You didn’t give him a response.

“Mom, I know you’re mad, pissed even but…..”

That was when he suddenly heard your voice. 

“Axel Wyatt get away from my bedroom door NOW.”

Axel sighed in response before going into his own bedroom and once you heard his footsteps move away from the door, you opened it and was met with Jack who saw your eyes full of tears and you being red in the face from anger.

“Baby girl….”

“I don’t even know what to say anymore. I’m taking the golden girls for a walk.”

Once Ivy and Autumn were picked up by Jack and brought home, Autumn said she had a gift for you and for you to sit in the living room and she would bring it.

As Autumn handed you the box, you immediately knew it was a Birkin and for the first time in your life you weren’t impressed.

Opening it, you saw that it was a shade of baby blue outlining the black material and knew she did this and definitely asked Jack to buy it since this is one of the only colors that you didn’t have.

“Do you like it? I know you don’t have this one so I picked it out for you.” She quietly said and all you did was look at her before placing it back in the box.

“Am I supposed to be impressed by this because I’m not.” Was all you said and she started to look nervous while Ivy and Axel exchanged looks with each other.

“Well… I…. I figured that this was a part of my apology to you. Well all of us really.”

All you did was slide the box back towards her while Jack’s eyes went wide.

The fact that you didn’t even want the Birkin spoke volumes and then he knew that he as well as his three oldest children were in deep shit.

“Hmm, no thanks.”

“But… you love Birkins and have been obsessed with him since forever.” Axel offered and all you did was stare at him. 

“Your point?”

“Mommy, we’re really sorry for how we acted. We know that you’re so hard on us because you care about us and only want the best for us.” Ivy finally spoke up, but you weren’t budging.

“Spend time with your favorite parent. I have a nail appointment and then I have to go and get Nova, Cash, and Camden. Oh, and don’t forget that Maggie wants all of you over for dinner later, but just you four are going.”

“Wait, babe. What? Why?” Jack asked and all you did was stare at him before responding. 

“You know why. I have things to do so I need to get a move on.”

“But mom…” Axel started to say, but all you did was get up from the table and make your way to your bedroom in order to get dressed.

Once you had left, the triplets looked at their father who immediately sighed.

“I definitely thought the Birkin would work.” Axel said and all of them agreed.

“So, what now?” Ivy asked and for the first time Jack didn’t have an answer.

“This usually always worked so now I don’t have any idea what to do. I swear the three of you better not pull any more shit because she’s going to become unhinged and none of you have truly seen your mother when she’s pissed off.”

Later that evening, once everyone had settled at the dinner table at Maggie and Brian’s house, she was confused on why you as well as her other grandchildren were missing and thought that you would have shown up by now.

“Where’s Y/N and my other babies?” The table was quiet and the triplets didn’t dare make eye contact with her. Jack started to speak, but was immediately cut off by Clay.

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but you’re three oldest grandchildren as in Ivy, Axel, and Autumn have been extremely disrespectful towards her and talking back as well as getting suspended for cursing teachers out, fighting, smoking, and also skipping school so she told Jack to deal with them until they can learn to respect her and respect the rules that they set in place for them. Did I get it all, you three?” Clay asked while turning to look at all three of them before looking back at his mother and the look on her face had her ready to body slam them.

“EXCUSE ME? YOU THREE ARE DOING WHAT?”

“Grammy…..”

“Autumn, do NOT. Brian hand me my phone to call Y/N on facetime. One thing I will not tolerate is you disrespecting your parents. Especially my daughter who gave birth to all three of you.”

“Oh, and Autumn also said that they were cut out and not pushed out to her face. Forgot Jack told me that.” Clay added while patting him on the back and all he did was sigh.

You answered on the second ring on facetime when you saw that it was Maggie.

“Hi mom! Are you okay? Why are you making that face?” You asked and she sighed before answering you.

“Clay has told me that those oldest children of yours have been disrespectful towards both you and my oldest child and I had to call you to confirm.”

“Hmm that sounds about right, but your oldest child isn’t innocent either.”

“Oh shit.” Clay muttered while looking down at his plate.

“Oh, really? Tell me more.”

“I took Ivy and Axel’s phones away after they got suspended and told Ax he couldn’t play in his soccer game all for Jackman to turn around and do the complete opposite. They had the nerve to buy me a Birkin like that was going to be a peace offering for the way that they had been acting.”

“If it was me and Y/N…” Clay started to say, but Maggie cut him off.

“Clayborn, SHUT IT.”

Clay simply held up his hands in defense as Jack was simply being interested in his mashed potatoes. 

“Where are you right now?”

“Me and the babies are at Vincezo’s having a date night. We got dressed up and everything. Until the four of them act like they have sense, they aren’t allowed to go with me anywhere and yes Jack is included in that. I’m sick and tired of how they’ve been acting and since I don’t want to deal with it, I’m not going to. Oh and Autumn did say Jack was her favorite parent and how people in prison get treated better than they do and she’s not going to apologize because she doesn’t mean it. So they can stay there with their favorite parent while me and the babies go to Six Flags this weekend. All I try to do is the absolute best for them, but if they don’t want me too, that’s fine. Cam, baby let me help you cut that. It’s too big and I don't want you to choke.”

“Okay, sweetheart. That’s all I needed to know. Just make sure the four of you stay safe while I deal with your triplets and my oldest child.”

“Love you mom! Have fun because I think it’ll fall on deaf ears. Tell dad I said hi!”

“Will do, love you too.”

Once Maggie hung up, the room was silent.

“Mom…” Jack started to say and she immediately held up her hand while Brian was scratching the back of his neck looking nervous.

“The three of you have some nerve. Some serious nerve to be acting like this when you all were literally born with a silver spoon in your mouths. I get that you’re teenagers and want a little bit more independence but how is that going to happen when you show your entire ass and show that none of you can conduct yourselves? Autumn, you are the exact replica of your mother, but she never acted as horribly as you are. Yes, she fought, but the fact that you are also having secret boyfriends and going behind your parents backs? And Ivy, I assume you’re the one who cussed out your teacher. When were you taught to do that? And Axel, the quietest of my grandchildren is now smoking and trying to go through the rest of his life without a lung and skipping school and getting caught by your father. And how dare you say that you were cut out. So that makes it easier? Having to visit the three of you in the NICU everyday made it easier? Having postpartum depression from having the three of you made it easier? Putting her career on hold for the three of you so she could be a full time mother made it easier? At one point, we didn’t even know if Axel would still be here! And the fact that you opened your mouth to say it to her face.”

“Um, grandma, Autumn said it, not us.” Axel quietly said, but all she did was glare at him.

“Do you honestly think I care who said what at this point? That doesn’t take away how disrespectful you three were.”

No one spoke for a few minutes as Maggie began massaging her temples.

“You three don’t even know the half of what your mother has gone through to have you as well as keep you. So many times I thought that she would break, but never did and I’m proud to see how far she’s come from that shy little fourteen year old to a grown woman and I will be damned if her own offspring are disrespectful towards her. All three of you be quiet and eat your food and after this conversation tonight, if any of you do the slightest thing that is out of line of what their rules are, I will come and get you and you will be enrolled in Grandma’s boot camp for the rest of the year and you will not like it. Do not try me. And none of you are getting birthday and Christmas gifts this year so don’t bother asking.”

“Yes ma’am.” All three of them said as they continued to eat. Ivy didn’t really have an appetite, but knew that she should eat since you hadn’t been cooking lately and would probably have to eat a frozen burrito.

“Jackman, living room. NOW.”

The two of them were now sitting next to each other and Maggie had her arms crossed while staring at him. 

“Mom, I know.”

“Then why did you do that?! The two of you have to be on the same page because they are going to think that they can get away with anything and that’s not the case!”

“It was only the first time for them. Not like Autumn who has been suspended multiple times.”

“There is no reason for them to get a shorter punishment just because it was their first time. You’ve become so lenient with them and Y/N isn’t and I thought when they were born that it would be the opposite. You are not their friend, you are their PARENT. You two need to get on the same page and also text Y/N to bring me and Brian a slice of cheesecake. All four of you have stressed me the hell out tonight and when I call Y/N for an update, this better not happen again.”

Taglist:

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

The Boy with the Thorn in his Side [Part 2]

Part One

Steven Grant X F!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: TYPOS, swearing, SELF-INDULGENT, lovey dovey syndrome, fluff, pinning, brief mention of sex, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

A/N: Just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone that enjoyed the first part and convinced me to write the second. (Also to @romanarose for gently bribing me with another chapter of their wonderful fic.)

Summary: After the events on Sunday night, you can't get Steven out of your head. But with no way to contact him, you form a plan to see him again.

Word Count: 3864

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockley @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit

____________________________________

This was a bad idea. This was such a bad idea. An awful, terrible, horrendous idea. You were bordering on stalker behaviour. He would take one glance at you and call the police, ‘hi, there’s this person I saw one time who basically invited herself into my meal and now she’s at my workplace.’ He would get a restraining order. You’d go to jail. This was the worst thing you have ever thought of.

Your hands shook a little as you set foot into the museum, your heartbeat echoed in your temples as nerves seemed to eat you from the inside out. 

You had cursed yourself Sunday night on the bus ride home, going over countless possibilities of how you could have done things differently. On Monday morning all you could think of was Steven’s kind smile and why you didn’t ask for his number. Even if he had said no, at least that would be something. A full stop to the whole thing, you could draw a line under it. Get on with your life. 

You hadn’t even spoken to your flatmates or your friends about it. Flitting between embarrassment of how you had just rushed off onto the bus and the mortification of your crush. You were an adult for god’s sake, it was completely fine to fancy someone – but you had still blushed and hidden the flowers Steven had given you in your room, away from your flatmate’s prying eyes. (After putting them in the nicest vase you had.)

By Tuesday you had a plan, a very poor plan. 

Steven had told you he worked in the gift shop at the museum. Just go, just say hi. Be casual. Normal. (Things you were unfortunately incapable of doing it seemed.)

On Wednesday, one of your days off, you had woken earlier than you normally got up for work. Showered and spent a little longer than you would want to admit choosing an outfit that was nice but casual. Flattering, but didn’t look like you were trying too hard. Oh god. You held your head in your hands. 

As you shuffled out of your room, finally happy (ish) with how you looked, Michael, one of your flatmates, was sitting eating cereal at the kitchen table. He was, without a doubt, one of your closest friends. 

“You look nice.”

You gave him a weak smile back. 

He frowned. “Thought you didn’t have work today?” 

“I don’t, just, just heading out.” 

His eyes narrowed even more. “We-”

“No Jason today?” You quickly changed the subject looking around for Michael’s boyfriend. 

“Late shift, he’s still asleep.” 

“Oh, okay, well,” you pulled on your shoes as quickly as you physically could. “That’s nice. See you later!” And practically threw yourself out of the door before he could get another word in edgeways. 

As you travelled into central, all you could think of was how stupid this was. 

You stopped and bought a couple of vegan crosstown doughnuts on your way. You would just see if he was there, say hi. Give him the doughnuts, say it was a little thank you for him paying. Ask him out again. Easy. Simple. Just casual. You could do that. Definitely. One hundred percent. 

You walked further into the museum, trying to keep an eye out for the gift shop. What if he wasn’t working today? This was so stupid. If-

You spotted the gift shop and your heart sank into the ground and crushed under the weight of your feet. There was a blonde woman behind the till. No sign of Steven anywhere. Your shoulders slumped. 

Fate had decided. You let out a deep breath and turned to walk back out the way you had come and smashed right into someone. 

“Oh fuck! I’m sorry!” You grabbed hold of their forearms to steady them.

Luckily they didn’t drop the pile of boxes they were holding. 

“Woops, no, my fault.”

That voice. 

Your heart sprang up from the floor and slammed back into your chest. 

“Steven?” 

He lowered the boxes, poking his head around the side. His whole face lit up when he saw you. 

“Hello, hi, what are you, what are you doing here?”

“Obviously trying to make you drop things.”

He laughed, his smile blinding.

“I, erm, here,” you thrust the doughnuts at him, completely forgetting every suave line you had rehearsed in your head. He stared at your hands for a second before you realised he obviously couldn’t take them with his hands full. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “No, fuck. I-” 

“It’s so good to see you!” He took a small step closer.

“It is?” Relief flooded your veins, the sudden rebound from absolute mortification to a slight ease made you lightheaded.

“Of course.” 

You stared for a second too long at his large brown eyes, your chest warm. 

“I, I got you some doughnuts, vegan,” you quickly added and raised the bag. “Just as, erm, like a small thank you.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” His voice was so soft as he readjusted his hold on the boxes so that he could see you better. He lent his head to the side, a small hint of pink dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

It was your turn to talk, “I…” The realisation that you had got lost just looking at him, again, smacked you hard in the face. “No, I just, I didn’t say thank you really, and I just rushed off and…” You shrugged. 

Steven opened his mouth to speak.

“Stevie! Those boxes!” Blonde woman behind the gift shop counter motioned exaggeratedly with her hands, though she did not move to help. 

Realisation clicked into your mind as you turned back to Steven and whispered. “Oh no, is this the famous Donna.” 

“The very same.” He said, completely deadpan.

You pull a face and Steven laughs before giving Donna a thumbs up and a fakest nod and smile you had ever seen. 

“I don’t know how busy you are, obviously I don’t want to get in the way of any plans, but, I have a break at one.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I know that’s a bit of a way away-”

“I can meet you here?” You said a little too quickly. 

Steven grinned. “Yeah.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you here,” you said again and pointed to the ground as you both move around and walk backwards. “One.”

“One.” Steven nearly trips over someone behind him but sidesteps quickly. He mutters a polite sorry before you both look back at each other and share a little laugh.

“See you later!” 

Steven gave you the best wave he could, a wiggle of his fingers, without letting go of the boxes.  

“Stevie!”

Steven rolled his eyes and you grinned back at him. 

“Coming!” He turns and looks back at you over his shoulder.

You can feel the most ridiculous, dopy lovesick smile that you’ve ever had plastered over your face. And you can do absolutely nothing about it.  

.

You realised pretty quickly that you could just walk around the museum while you were waiting for the time to tick slowly onwards, but it just seemed impolite somehow to hover around Steven’s place of work, despite the fact that the museum was massive.

It wasn’t like you standing a few metres away from him and just staring.

Nevertheless, you found yourself walking out and wandering around some shops until around 12, looking at the time on your phone every thirty seconds. You had to stop when your battery got to fifty percent, worried you would run it down to nothing. 

At just after 12 you sat on the museum steps and read, pulling out your slightly battered paperback from your bag. 

Not that you took anything in. You had to keep restarting the page. The words started to get lost in your head about two paragraphs in. You bit at your thumbnail as you read the same words for the umpteenth time and bounced your leg up and down. 

Nerves twisted in your stomach, a giddy thrill. The only comparable sensation was to performing on stage in a long ago school play, the fear you would make an absolute fool of yourself combined with a rush of excitement. 

You checked your phone again, 12:34. Okay, that was definitely too early to go in. Far too early. Quarter to, you could go in at quarter to. 

Your bouncing leg was making it even more impossible to keep your place in your book, the words jumped in time with your leg. You could easily fix this by not resting your forearm on your leg. 

But moving your arm would mean moving your hand, and moving your hand would mean that you could move your hand, and knowing you could move your hand meant you could move your hand to check your phone for the time again, and doing that-

“Hello!”

You turned around so quickly it was a miracle that you didn’t give yourself whiplash. 

Steven gave you a nervous smile, holding onto his bag strap with both hands. “Got out a bit early, hope that’s alright, I thought, I mean, I saw you headed out earlier... So I just, well, you know, thought I would check and see if you were out here. Sorry, I’m speaking too much, aren’t I? Yes.” 

He ran a hand through his hair as you quickly climbed to your feet, shoving your book in your bag.

“No, no,” you grin at him. 

There was a moment where both of you just stared at each other, forgetting how to speak. 

“Are you hungry?” Steven asks.

You nod.

.

Steven leads you to a little vegan burrito restaurant near the museum. 

“It’s really nice there.” He seemed excited to show it to you, his enthusiasm infectious. 

The shop was small, with just two tables outside and one inside. The queue wasn’t too long, but because of the size of the place it’s trailing outside. However it’s moving quickly.

You both chat easily as you wait. The built up nerves in your chest morphing into just the giddy thrill of being around him. 

You scan the menu board as you enter.

“I’ll get you one.” Steven said off handily. 

“Steven, I should be getting you one, I owe you from Sunday.”

“Nah,” he smiles and shakes his head.

“Listen,” you laugh and can’t help the rush of fondness for him that briefly clouds your mind, “I don’t mean to get all in your face, but I will physically fight you on this.” You nudge him with your shoulder as you speak.

Steven chuckles. “Okay.” 

He recommends ‘The Ultimate Burrito’. You let Steven go first in the line.

The people there recognise him, calling him by name and asking after Gus, and if ‘Donna has got that stick out of her arse yet’. 

When the cashier hands over his food and asks for payment, Steven quickly adds, “hers as well.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Steven taps his card and gives you a beaming smile before you can say anything.

He hands you your brown paper bag. 

“Steven,” you begin. 

“You can get the next one.”

You tut, but there’s no malice in it. “You said that last time.”

“And now there’s a this time, yeah? See, it worked.” 

You nudge him in the arm again as you both walk out. “You know you don’t have to pay for my food for there to be a next time, right?”

He nods, he’s smiling, but there’s something about his expression, something in his eyes that don’t leave you convinced.

“Well, that’s two times I owe you. So I guess you’re going to have to put up with me at least twice after today.”

His shoulders seem to relax a little.

You walk to Russell Square to sit and eat. The burrito is excellent. You give Steven the doughnuts, he promptly offers one to you and refuses to accept no for an answer. 

“And that’s where I hid the override key.” Steven ends his story with a grin.

You laugh loudly, “Donna still hasn’t found it?” 

“Nope.”

“Oh my god!”

“Yep, every time she needs to do a till check or cash up she has to ask me for my key. I make a big deal out of it, you know.”

You continue to laugh, imagining the gentle disruption Steven has caused his manager. 

He leans a little closer to you, all conspiratorial. “I tell her I keep it in my locker, for ‘safety’, it’s in my pocket the whole time.”

“Does she get annoyed?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins, “‘Stevie, you need to keep it on you!’”

You lose it at his impression. 

“‘Stevie, I need the key!’” He switches his tone when relaying his side of the conversation, putting on an extra layer of sincerity and bewilderment. “‘But, Donna, I’m just a shop assistant, only the managers have to keep their override key on them? That’s what it says in the guidelines isn’t it? Where’s your key?’ Then,” he motions animatedly with his hands. “She’ll huff and mutter and wander off and then ask for it again after five minutes. Usually slightly more politely, which, let me tell you, is a big deal for Donna.”

“Has she said anything about her key?”

“Nope.”

You leant forward, shifting closer to him without realising it. “So she hasn’t even admitted she can’t find it?” 

“Not at all.”

You laugh again.

“I mean, I thought she’d ask. Actually no, telling tales, I thought she would actually look in the back office for it. It’s literally on her desk, right under her nose! But, no. So then, I thought she’s gonna say, ‘Stevie, have you seen my key?’ in which case I could go, ‘oh yeah Donna, it’s right here.’” He shrugged, grinning. “Can’t ask for help apparently.” 

You threw your head back as you giggled, your knee brushed against his thigh, and for a moment the brief touch sent an electric shock up your spine. 

“I know it’s mean.” He said, chuckling a little. 

“She deserves it.”

“I’m sort of Matilda-ing my way around.”

Your eyes lit up, “you are! Does she wear a hat?”

He shook his head, confused for a second. 

“Shame, you could glue it to her head.”

Steven broke out laughing, remembering the scene from the book where Matilda does exactly that to her father.

He pauses before speaking again, his voice a little quieter this time, a little less sure of himself. “I’m really glad you came by, like really, really glad.”

You bite your lips together, trying to control the rapid and sudden increase in your heartbeat. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. I was feeling like a right numpty, I practically threw you on the bus.” 

You shake your head at him, but don’t interrupt. 

He looked down at his hands, worrying the skin around his fingernails. “Didn’t even say goodnight properly.”

Your brain short circuits at his words. Blanking out to nothingness for a moment, error screen – restart. What did he mean? What did saying goodnight properly mean? 

You stare at his lips, taking in the chance to truly look at him now that he wasn’t looking at you. Thoughts of how soft they would be, how sweet, filling your mind. What sounds would he make? Would he sigh or moan? Would there be a little hitch of his breath just before you-

“I was worrying, you know, is this boarding on stalker behaviour?” He smiled to cover his nerves and glanced back to you. 

“Steven,” you shook your head and lightly placed your hand on his forearm. “I was literally thinking the same thing. With me being the stalker, I mean.”

“What?” There is a small laugh that accompanies the word.

“Literally, I was thinking, is it crazy just to turn up at your place of work, and be like ‘hi’.”  You waved your hand with the motion, pulling a face and missing the small look of lament that flashed across his face when your hand left his arm. 

“Well, I’m so glad you did.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You both stare at each other again, there’s a build of pressure in your chest. Maybe you could-

“How was your burrito?” Steven asks, speaking a little too quickly. 

You smile. “Very good.”

You both continue to talk and finish off the doughnuts. It only seems like you have been there for a few minutes when Steven’s phone buzzes, the faint sound of his alarm going off. 

You don’t miss the way his face drops when he sees the time. 

“How long’s your break?”

He quickly looks up, shaking his head slightly. “No, I’m- don’t worry!”

“Steven?” You give him a kind smile, even though you would quite happily let him stay here with you for the rest of the day.

He pulls a face. “I’m a bit late actually.”

“I should let you go…” Even to your own ears you don’t sound convincing. 

“Nah,” he shrugs, “I’m always late, it’d be a bit out of the old character if I went back now. Donna would die of shock I’m sure.”

You chuckle. “Is that a bad thing?”

Steven laughs. “Well, knowing my luck her replacement would be even worse.”

Another pause falls between the two of you.

“It was really nice to see you again.” You blurt out.

He sits up a little straighter, turning his body even more towards you. “You too.”

“I’d like to, I mean,” your tongue is too big in your mouth, too slow for the words that want to pour out of it, “if you want, to see you again-again?”

“Again-again?” He raises his eyebrows playfully.

“Again-again.” You grin.

“Yeah, no, I’d really like that too.”

You nod, quickly becoming a little lost in his eyes before you remember to get his number this time.

“Erm, here,” you unlock and pass him your phone. 

Steven takes your phone while still holding his own. His warm fingers brush against yours and you lean into the touch for a second longer than completely necessary.

He quickly puts his name and number in, and to your absolute endearment he also adds his last name. 

You send him a quick message: ‘hi’.

There is a buzz of vibration as his goes off. He sends one back ‘hi!’ 

You both grin at each other. 

Slowly, you walk back to the museum entrance, both of you dragging your feet a little. 

Naturally you come to a stop just outside and out of the way of the people coming and going. 

Steven shifted his bag on his shoulder. “Maybe next time we can go somewhere that serves something other than steak?” 

“Sure,” you nod, “sounds good.”

There’s another pause. But this one is painful. Even in this short time it’s like you both had become attached to each other, that pulling apart now would only cause wounds in the places you had touched.

“I should,” Steven motions with his hand behind him to the museum, he doesn’t move to go, his eyes fully fixed on you.

Your heart is racing, burning up and exploding like a comet too close to the sun.

The adrenaline makes nausea burn in your throat. Oh fuck it. 

“Can I kiss you?” You blurt it out, so rushed it’s a miracle that the words are coherent. 

Steven’s mouth opens slightly, a blank look of confusion on his face.

You were wrong, you were wrong, oh god, you were so wrong, this was absolutely the worst thing you could have done, the most terrible-

He swallowed, his throat bobbing with the movement. His voice is barely a whisper. “Yes please.”

You don’t remember moving closer to him, don’t remember your hand gliding around the nape of his neck to guide his lips to yours. Your body moving on autopilot. 

You don’t care that you’re in public. For once you couldn’t care less about what anyone else thought of you, your mind so caught up with just him. 

His lips are softer than you imagined, warm and lush. His nose bumps against your cheeks before you tilt your head more to the side and then it’s perfect. 

You kiss him once, twice, innocent and chaste. You feel his throat bob again under your hand, your nails just scraping over his skin as you sink your fingers into his hair. 

He whimpers, a small, delicious sound that buzzes along your lips. You never want it to stop.

Instinctively you step even closer, gripping at his shoulder with your other hand as his press against your lower back, guiding you towards him until your chests are flush against each other. 

The tiny moan that escapes him at the contact makes your head spin. Giddy with how responsive he is, you can’t help yourself as his lips part. You slide your tongue into his mouth and Steven groans. 

His grip tightens as he sucks on your tongue, strokes it with his own. 

There’s a quickly growing fire in your belly as Steven’s shy kisses quickly become bolder, demanding. 

Your head feel light, intoxicated almost, part of you would happily push him down and fuck him against the museum steps.

He kisses you back with a fevered vigour that-

Steven’s phone buzzes. You pause, but he doesn’t, using the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You moan and he growls, low and vibrating in his chest. You can’t help the way your breath catches at the sound, heat pooling in your lower stomach. 

You wrap your arm more fully around his neck and-

Steven’s phone buzzes again, this time a sharp ringing accompanies it. He continues to kiss you for a moment before groaning.

You pull away slightly and press your forehead against his. His eyes are closed, a small look of annoyance pinching at his features as the phone rings. 

You kiss him again, quickly, once, twice. He smiles.

Still keeping you close he looks at his phone, even though he knows whose ringtone it is. 

You see Donna’s name flash along the screen. 

“Oh fuck, I actually am really late now.” Steven says, but he’s smiling. “Worth it though.” 

You chuckle, and push him playfully in the arm. 

He lets the phone ring, putting it back in his pocket, and kisses you again. Once, twice. His tongue traces your bottom lip but he manages to pull himself away before he gets too caught up again.

Reluctantly, you both untangle yourselves from each other. 

The bottom of Steven’s hair is a mess from where you had pulled it. His lips are red, eyes dark and he is smiling so widely. 

You say your goodbyes and Steven walks up two steps before turning back and kissing you again, ‘for the road.’

You manage to keep it together, until he is out of sight. And then you can’t help the small squeal of excitement that escapes you before heading back home. 

For the rest of his shift, much to Donna’s annoyance, nothing can even come close to touching Steven’s good mood. It’s like he’s floating on clouds.  

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Angels like you

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Natasha, known for her promiscuous reputation, decides to pursue a relationship with her sister's best friend, Wanda. Wanda gives Natasha a chance, and they enter into a relationship. However, doubts linger about whether Natasha has truly changed her ways for the sake of their love.

Warnings: minor fluff (lol), major angst, lots of cursing, mentions of alcohol, marijuana, and drugs, misunderstanding, college au

Word count: 2,539

╰┈➤ Masterlist Part 2

Natasha Romanoff, a person who has a reputation in bedding women from left to right. She is someone who relentlessly pursues what she desires, seeking satisfaction above all else. She wholeheartedly embraces the "fuckboy" label and her ability to make women fall at her feet.

This Casanova persona has been established because Natasha refused to acknowledge her deep affection for Wanda. Wanda is her little sister's best friend and she's known her ever since they were in elementary school, and has held a special place in Natasha's heart. However, Natasha has denied her feelings for far too long, opting for a reckless path rather than confronting her true emotions.

Wanda, on the other hand, secretly harbors the same affection for Natasha. She has never mustered the courage to express her feelings openly, and even Yelena remains unaware of these unspoken emotions, as Wanda believes that pursuing a romantic relationship with Natasha would likely lead to nothing but heartache.

Their college semester break came in and Natasha decided to stop her fuckboy persona and tried to clean her name the best that she could. She stopped sleeping around during the previous semester as she is planning on confessing her true feelings to Wanda. She is already planning what she's going to do if her confession will be in favor of her or not. But if Wanda rejects her, she will not give up right away since she needs to prove her feelings for the girl.

In her dorm room, Natasha dedicated herself to crafting a heartfelt poem, intricately handcrafting paper roses, and selecting adorable stuffed toys she knew Wanda would love. She's trying to keep these all under wraps because she doesn't want her sister to find out. She couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that Yelena might interfere with her plans, which weighed heavily on her heart.

Natasha planned the day pretending to seek Wanda's help in finding a birthday gift for Yelena. Her request may be true, however, she has her own motive. After they bought the gifts, Natasha asked if they could go see a movie and Wanda happily agreed and is rejoicing with their alone time together. Natasha subtly put her hand on Wanda's lower back as she's guiding her inside the cinema. Nothing too touchy happened as Natasha doesn't want to scare the other woman. After the movie, Natasha once again asked if Wanda would like to come over to her dorm and for a home-cooked dinner. Wanda agreed and even picked the food that she wanted.

While they were eating, Natasha was feeling nervous and just decided to leave the table abruptly. This left Wanda feeling confused and her mind went into different directions when she saw Natasha coming back holding a bouquet of paper roses, cards, and stuffed toys. Wanda is so touched by all of these gifts and the poem that Natasha rose made her heart flutter.

"I wanted to court you for so long, but never had the courage to ask. I know you probably think badly of me, since I have this bad reputation and I would understand if you reject me."

"Natasha… I don't know what to say."

"Wanda, I have liked you since we were in high school but you had a boyfriend back then. Since then, I suppressed my feelings and ended up sleeping with everybody. Gosh, this is embarrassing."

"It's okay, Natasha. Go on."

"I just wanted to ask if I could court you, Wanda. I want you to be my girlfriend."

Wanda felt giddy all of the sudden, but she did not let her emotions cloud her decision.

"I will be giving permission to court me, but it does not mean that you will be my girlfriend eventually. I will need to see that you are not playing with me and are indeed serious."

"Yeah, I can do that. Thank you for the chance, Wanda."

The courtship went on for months and Natasha stayed true to her words. She devoted all of her time with Wanda. Strayed away from any parties and she even stopped smoking for Wanda's sake.

Wanda observed Natasha's determination and decided to give their relationship a chance. Natasha joyfully kissed her with passion, it was a special moment. Yelena, hearing the news, eagerly joined in the celebration of their newfound love. Although Yelena doesn't entirely approve of this relationship, she is happy for them nonetheless.

As their relationship grew, they remained blissfully unaware of the whispers and doubts surrounding them. Among those skeptical was Maria, Natasha's ex-fuckbody who couldn't help but find it amusing that Natasha had chosen someone like Wanda.

Five months into their relationship, Natasha received an invitation to a party. In all honesty, she missed her wild nights of returning to her dorm inebriated, but she certainly didn't miss the casual sexual encounters. Natasha had refrained from rushing into intimacy with Wanda, a gesture that Wanda deeply appreciated.

Natasha told Wanda that she'll be going to a party and will shoot her text once she arrives and leaves the party. Wanda, the angel that she is, let Natasha go and decided to just stay in their dorm.

The scent of alcohol and marijuana filled the air at the party, and Natasha wasted no time in grabbing drinks and reuniting with her friends. It had been too long since they'd partied together, and they were eager to catch up on their lives. Natasha learned that Maria was also present but chose to ignore her presence entirely.

At 1:36 AM, Wanda received a call from Yelena, who insisted that they needed to pick up Natasha, knowing she'd be too intoxicated to drive her bike. When the pair arrived, they began searching for Natasha but stumbled upon a scene they never expected. Natasha was sitting on the couch, in a highly compromising position, with her back to Wanda. Maria was straddling Natasha's lap, draping her arms around her girlfriend's shoulders.

Wanda stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to believe her eyes. She had strongly believed that Natasha had changed and would never return to her old ways. Maria noticed her and leaned down to kiss Natasha's lips.

Wanda's vision blurred with anger, tears started streaming down her face and she stormed out of the party, with Yelena hot on her tail, calling her name repeatedly.

Yelena made sure first to drop off Wanda to her dorm and went back to the party to get her stupid sister. How dare she break Wanda's trust like that. She shook Natasha awake, as she screamed at Natasha to get up and leave the party. Natasha, still groggy, complied without much protest, stumbling into Yelena's car.

Yelena seethed in her seat, her anger lingering in the air but she refrained from venting her frustration aloud. She knew that once she started, there would be no end to it. She drove Natasha back to their dorm in tense silence, practically tossing her onto the bed. Then she noticed all of the lipstick marks on Natasha's face.

Frustration and disappointment welled up within Yelena as she decided to leave her sister alone to deal with the consequences of her actions. Instead, Yelena quietly made her way to Wanda's room, determined to watch over her, knowing that she needed the support more than ever.

The following day, Yelena, filled with curiosity and concern, made her way to her friends' dormitory. She sought out Steve initially, as he seemed the most level-headed and sober among the group, still holding on to his morals. When she finally located Steve, he seemed reluctant to face her, but Yelena was determined.

"Steve, are you seriously going to hide from me?" she questioned.

Steve winced but knew he couldn't evade the conversation any longer. "Uhh... no. Are you here because of what happened last night?"

"Yes," Yelena replied firmly. "I need to know why on earth my sister's face has Maria's lipstick all over."

Steve looked at Yelena with remorse in his eyes. "It's my fault," he admitted regretfully. "I should have warned Natasha about Maria's unhealthy obsession with her. All Maria did last night was try to get close to Natasha, desperate to win her back. She just couldn't let go. Natasha, of course, wasn't having it and they had a heated argument," he sighed and continued his confession. "From then on, we thought nothing major would happen, so we continued drinking and smoking. It all slowly happened because we were confident Maria would eventually stop. However, out of nowhere, we saw them on the couch, Maria kissing Natasha. That's when both you and Wanda walked in and witnessed the scene. Right after you chased Wanda, I managed to pull Maria away from Natasha's lap and noticed that Natasha was nearly unconscious. Tony and I tried to wake her, but she was unresponsive. That's when it hit us – Maria might have drugged her to have her way."

Yelena felt a wave of shock and regret wash over her as Steve's explanation sunk in. She realised that she had misjudged her sister, and jumped to conclusions way too quickly. Determined to clear her sister's name, Yelena hurried back to their dormitory, where Wanda was waiting.

Meanwhile, Natasha began to stir in her bed, her head throbbing with the aftereffects of a wild night. As her vision cleared, she saw Wanda sitting at the edge of her bed.

"Hi, baby," Natasha groaned. "My head is pounding. I must've really drunk a lot last night."

Wanda's expression was stern as she replied, "Yeah, you were so drunk that you cheated on me."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock, and she scrambled to sit up, almost losing her balance. "Cheated on you? What are you talking about?"

"I genuinely thought you have changed, Natasha," Wanda's voice trembled with hurt and anger. "But it seems like everyone was right about you being a heartbreaker who enjoys toying with people's emotions. I can't stand this. You're even denying it to my face!"

Natasha was still bewildered, trying to process everything Wanda was accusing her of. "Wanda, please, just calm down. I need to understand what's going on. I was only with the guys last night. We drank and smoked. Nothing else happened!"

Wanda's resolve remained unshaken. "Keep lying, Romanoff. We're done. I'm breaking up with you."

Desperation crept into Natasha's voice as she pleaded, "Wanda, no, no, no. Please, don't do this, baby. I'll figure this out. I don't even know what I did, but you have to believe me!"

Wanda's voice was resolute as she responded, "If you have any respect left for me and yourself, I suggest you leave me alone. I don't want to see your face ever again. I shouldn't have trusted you." With those words, Wanda stormed out of the dorm room, slamming the door behind her, leaving Natasha standing there, wondering how she had ended up in this heartbreaking situation.

Natasha went to the bathroom and to freshen up and will get this shit right. Upon checking the mirror, she saw all the faded lipstick stains on her face and neck. Fuck! Wanda surely saw all of these and she doesn't even know who she got them in the first place. First, she's going to call Yelena and Steve, second, talk to Wanda after she got her answers about what happened last night.

After taking a shower, she got her phone. No, she will not call Yelena or Steve. She went straight to Wanda's room and try to speak to her. She at least needs to make things right and assure her that she did not cheat on her with anyone.

She knocked on Wanda's door softly and called out her name. There was no answer and Natasha went for plan B, she had a spare key and let herself in. Her heart broke into a million pieces when she saw Wanda crying at the foot of her bed, hugging her knees closely to her body.

"Wanda, baby. Please. Talk to me. I want to make this right."

Wanda, who usually refrains from cursing, has unleashed every ounce of her anger towards Natasha.

"How fucking dare you step into my space! You're a cheater!"

"No, no. Please, I don't understand what you're saying, Wanda. I have zero recollection from last night, and I doubt very much that I've done something to break your trust," Natasha pleaded, her eyes searching Wanda's for any hint of understanding.

Wanda just scoffs. "Classic cheater. Pretends to not remember and blames their actions on the alcohol."

"I am not pretending, Wanda. Please help me out here." Natasha pleaded with desperation.

"Why would I even help you when you fucking put me in this situation!" Wanda screamed and continued berating Natasha. "I can't believe I fell for someone like you. I used to think highly of you and admire you sincerely. That's why I have given you a chance despite your habits. But the saying is real, old habits die hard."

Wanda chuckled to herself, not really minding the words coming out from her mouth. "Who fucking knows! You were probably sleeping secretly with someone else, or probably with Maria since you can't fuck me and get your way with me!" She's now blindingly accusing Natasha with whatever comes into her mind.

"Oh is that it? You were all over her last night because you can't get laid with me. Wow. That's fucked up, Natasha."

Natasha is left stunned once again from all of the insults and accusations that Wanda is throwing at her.

"Maria? What does it have to do with Maria? I have not spoken to that woman since I dumped her. Although she was there last night, I paid her no mind."

"Oh hush now, Natasha. Don't ever fucking lie to me now. You were kissing all too fucking good last night. I saw it. Yelena even saw it too. So don't ever fucking lie to me!"

Natasha, completely lost at the moment and doesn't know what to say anymore. Wanda is saying things she can't remember and she was probably right. She's a cheater who could never be satisfied with her partner.

"What? You're just going to stand there and not say a damn thing? Because I'm right? You're busted? You're pathetic, Natasha. A sly motherfucker who likes to play with people. Is that where you get your pleasure from? Seeing girls fall at your feet and leaving them in hell just for the fun of it?"

"You're hurting me now, Wanda," Natasha replied, her voice laced with sadness.

"You've hurt me more, Natasha. Get the hell out of my room. I never want to see your pathetic face again. I want nothing from you."

Natasha simply nodded and slowly walked to the door. But before she opened it, she cast one last look at Wanda. "I love you, you know." It was the first time either of them had attempted to utter those words.

"Well, I don't," Wanda retorted without hesitation, shattering Natasha's heart even further.

"I understand. Goodbye, Wanda." Natasha's voice cracked as she spoke, determined not to reveal her crumbling emotions.

Perhaps their love for each other had never been enough, and their relationship had been doomed from the very beginning.

This is loosely based on Miley Cyrus' song obv. I can't stop thinking that this could be a wandanat song tbh. So I hope you like this!

@vlake77 here ya go 🫶

[gayf1hoe]

Part 1

As I sit down with my bowl of cereal I begin to open my laptop and see an abundance of emails that I have ignored over the course of the past few weeks, because I've been having a full media and work detox.

As the emails load I see the latest email is from Gunther so I decide I best not ignore it otherwise if I ignore it like I did when I first joined the team he will give me a lecture about how rude it is to ignore emails. Opening it I scan it with my eyes whilst spooning my cereal into my mouth. I read that Gunther has called for a meeting for today which isn't much of a surprise given it's only a few weeks until pre-season testing and I don't even know who my teammate is. After last season I need a good teammate. Nikita was a great person but a terrible teammate. It was like Haas had only one driver driving for them because he spent half of his time spinning off the track or going into the wall so this year I need a teammate who will be able to score points alongside me.

I continue scrolling through the emails and curse myself for putting myself in this position, when people say F1 drivers just drive a car they are so wrong. They should try keeping up with all the emails and brand deals we have to do.

I finish my breakfast and quickly jump in the shower and dig out an outfit from my draws that are more than due a clear out but that's very far down on my very long to do list that never seems to be fully complete.

I double check I have everything before shutting the door to my apartment and heading to the factory where the meeting is, thankfully it isn't far away as when I joined Haas I bought an apartment close to the factory and moved.

As I approach the entrance I am handed my ID pass and make my way to Guenther's office. The building has become like a second home to me, in fact I have probably spent more time here in the past 2 years than I have at home, it's full of loads of Haas memorabilia such as the burnt Halo that saved Grosejans life, or the chassis of previous cars. Unfortunately the trophy cabinet isn't as grand or as full as Red Bull's or Ferrari's but it still displays the team's short history.

Eventually after greeting everyone who I haven't seen for a few months I reach the door of Gunther's office and confidently knock and wait for a response from within, it doesn't take long for him to say "come in".

Whilst he is my team principal he is also like a father figure to me and I would be lying if I said I didn't miss his dry humour and constant use of profane langauge over the course of the break.

I take a seat opposite him and see that there is another chair next to me so I assume someone else will be joining us shortly. We take a brief moment to catch up after the break and we discuss what we did and he asks if my swearing is under control yet. As last year every team radio and interview I almost certainly used a swear word, although I don't think he has much room to talk.

I could tell how stressed he was last year having Nikita crashing his car every 5 seconds, Dimitry threatening to pull out the Uralkali sponsor and having 2 rookies on his team was never going to be easy but I don't think he envisaged it being that hard, last year Haas managed to get 112 points all of which came from me so by the end of the year I was very burnt out and spent the entire break doing absolutely nothing.

The conversation bounces back and forth until there is a knock on the door causing silence to hit the room, Gunther goes over to the door and greets who ever is there but I can't see or hear who it is until Gunther moves out the way and motions to the chair, causing me to stand up and prepare to shake the person's hand what I didn't expect was to see that my new teammate was Carlos Sainz.

I knew Carlos was out of a seat this year, with much controversy behind it. I just never would have expected him to come to Haas, it's not that I'm unhappy with the team choosing him but he's going from one of the top teams to a team that is struggling to stay in the fight to be a midfielder.

Another reason I'm stood in silence is because well, Carlos is gorgeous there is no denying that and his natural charm makes him irresistible. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Gunther repeatedly saying my name until I turn my head towards him and he then motions with his head for me to shake his hand. I shake his hand, make eye contact with him and say hello.

We both take a seat and Gunther walks around to his side of the desk, it kind of feels like you've been called to the Principal's office, even if you know you have done nothing wrong there is always nerves in your stomach.

"So Y/N if you can't tell by now Carlos is your new teammate" Gunther says in his typical blunt tone that makes me smile.

"Yes I had gathered that much Gunther"

We spend ages talking about media and contracts but it's more focused on informing Carlos on how the team works and what the expectations are although I can only assume they are a lot lower compared to Ferrari.

We are doing pre-season testing and revealing the livery in 2 weeks time so there are a lot of things to sort out in a short period of time. But after the meeting Gunther lets us go to lunch and it provides me and Carlos with an opportunity to get to know each other. before we go into the simulator for practice.

The lunch hall is quite full as the preparations for the next season are very much in full swing and with MoneyGram being the new sponsor there is a lot to change, I wish I could say I will miss having Nikita as a teammate but his father and Uralkali made my first season and absolute nightmare constantly accusing me of having a different or better car to Mazepin, I can't even begin count how many times my car was inspected by the FIA last year.

We collect our food and head to a quiet conference room as the dining hall is flooded by engineers, designers and loads of other staff that makes it barely possible to actually hear anyone. We eventually reach a quiet conference room and place our lunch down at the table before sitting down. For the initial 10 minutes we are just sat in silence before I'm the one to ask the first question.

"So why Haas, you must have been pretty desperate for that F1 seat? I say trying to break the silence with some humour.

"No, I wanted a team that would challenge me and I thought you would make a great teammate" as he finishes his sentence I have to look down because I can feel my cheeks blushing bright red like I've just seen my high-school crush.

He has great charisma, humour and looks and he is an extremely talented driver, the polar opposite to my previous teammate so I am elated at the fact he is my team mate although I'm sure my attraction to him will at some point cause a predicament that will arouse drama for us and the team. I can't help but admire him from the opposing side of the table, I probably look obsessed right now - but maybe that's an accurate description.

Throughout lunch we get to know each other more and more. He speaks about what it was like to have Charles as a teammate and I speak about what it was like to have Nikita as a teammate and I think I win at having the more Interesting stories.

But no sooner than lunch had started we have to go and do testing in the simulator which is an all too common thing in preparing for the season however I have never been a fan of simulators I don't feel they give the proper experience and plus 20 to 30 years ago there was no such thing as simulator testing and the drivers managed just as well. Me and Carlos go to separate rooms for the simulator tests and after we have to get our seats moulded so we don't see eachother until about 5 PM when we are allowed to go back home.

Unlike Carlos I live near the factory however he still lives in Spain so he's renting a hotel room. When we meet in the lobby I suggest we go for dinner at a nearby restaurant I know well and he agrees. We both head to my Audi and take a seat, "nice car" he compliments as he buckles his seat belt. We begin driving and in typical England fashion it starts to rain and the sound of rain pelting against the metal is a sound that feels the air of silence. But eventually Carlos sparks a conversation between us that is more personal and detached from racing.

"So do you have a partner?" He asks "nope, painfully single and probably will be forever" I reply further questioning "What about you?".

"Same, still single" he replies, "but sure someone with your good looks would be able to find someone" I instantly regret saying that it sounds like I'm hitting on him and he can clearly tell that I'm embarrassed.

"No need to feel shy, I am very honoured that you think I'm good-looking" whilst his response calms me, I still can't help but feel a little embarrassed still.

Shortly after making a fool of myself we pull into the parking bay of the restaurant and step out into the rain. We hastily rush into the restaurant taking refuge from the rain and are guided to our table by the waiter I know very well.

We are sitting down at the table and the waiter comes by again, "Now Y/N will it be the usual" he says whilst placing his hand on my shoulder, Carlos quickly averts his attention away from us and back to the menu after he's finished taking our orders Carlos comments on his behaviour.

"He's very touchy don't you think, maybe he likes you"

I laugh at his comment, "please I know his mother and he's so not my type"

"Well what is your type?" He presses on.

"The complete opposite of him" I state trying to give as little away as possible.

"Anyway, what's your type?" I ask, trying to deflect.

"Well I don't have a specific type I'm open to all kinds of people" He answers and as he finishes our food comes out putting an abrupt end to that conversation.

Over the course of dinner we talk about the plans for the forthcoming weeks and what the reaction is going to be like when everyone finds out that he's going to be driving for Haas. I can't lie, I can't wait to see the out roar of disappointment when they find out Carlos Sainz, one of the best drivers on the grid is in a Haas. I bet it's an image some can't even begin to imagine.

After dinner I drive Carlos back to his hotel which isn't too far from the restaurant and as I am about to drive off he invites me in.

"Hey, do you want to come in for a glass of wine?" He asks whilst undoing his seat belt.

"I can't, I'm driving" I say.

"Well you can just stay the night", I think about it momentarily and agree to come in. I quickly park the car and walk into the hotel with Carlos.

When we reach his room he quickly digs around in his pocket and pulls out his key card and opens the door. His room is more grand and well decorated than my own apartment and it's fixtures are more extravagant than anything I had ever seen.

Carlos walks over to the mini bar and pours two glasses of red wine and hands me one as I'm walking over to take a seat. I take a moment to admire the rest of the room, and wonder where Haas found the money in the budget for such a nice hotel.

We continue talking about our F1 careers and whilst mine is only 2 seasons old his is much more interesting than mine. We also talk about our personal lives, friends, family, relationships, hobbies and soon one glass of wine turns into a whole bottle.

Whilst I'm not drunk I'm certainly a little tipsy and probably not in the right mind frame to drive or walk home so I decide to take Carlos' offer of staying the night so I quickly get changed into some shorts and a t- shirt Carlos had given me and climb into the bed. Yes it's a little weird sharing the bed with my new team mate but I have known Carlos since last year so I guess it's not that bad.

A little after I had gotten into the bed Carlos comes out of the bathroom and gets into the bed next to me and turns the TV on.

"What do you want to watch?" He asks.

"I don't mind," I respond.

Shortly after he picks a TV show I drift off to sleep and don't really remember much.

Waking up in the morning I feel a headache and a slight hangover sweep over me. I hadn't had a single alcoholic drink since the last race of the season so it hit me pretty hard.

With my eyes feeling extremely sensitive the slight slither of light that bypasses the blinds peirces into my eyes causing me to let out an audible groan that causes Carlos to wake up.

"Are you ok?" He asks.

"Aside from a banging headache I should be fine" I say, pulling myself out of the bed and walking over to his table where there is a pair of sunglasses and putting them on to reduce the strain on my eyes.

I walk into the bathroom and have a shower all whilst keeping the sunglasses on my headache only seems to intensify as time passes.

I get changed in the bedroom whilst Carlos has a shower and we have to be at the factory in less than an hour so I only manage to have an apple and a glass of water for my breakfast and due to my headache I can't drive, so I entrust Carlos with my most expensive possession and pray he doesn't have an accident, but as he is an ex Ferrari driver I have faith in his competence and driving ability.

Although Carlos is a good driver I don't think he understands the speed limit is a limit and not a target and I'm sure when I go home there will be a speeding ticket in the post. However we do arrive much earlier than expected so I guess that's a positive. As we walk into the factory the smell of automotive oil is a smell that doesn't help my hangover at all.

We are left standing around for about 5 minutes before the head of Technical Engineering arrives and tells us what we are doing today, not before he questions me.

"Y/N is there a reason why you are wearing sunglasses indoors when it is winter?".

"I've got a little headache" I reply but he already knows.

"As long as your hangover doesn't impact your performance today I will look past it" he says unlocking the doors to the simulators.

Today is the day that Haas will announce that Carlos is joining the team and we have been informed we are filming a short video which will cause many people to have the shock of their lives.

3 hours of my day is spent in the simulator running through every single setting the car has and the different types of balance settings the car has. It's quite boring but it's also important.

The media manager comes by and pulls me and Carlos out to film the video and we have to do so many retakes because we can't stop laughing and I keep on saying "Uralkali Haas" instead of "MoneyGram Haas" but the final result doesn't show how many times we had to go through it.

"Hi guys my name is Y/N L/N, and I'm Carlos Sainz and we are the drivers for MoneyGram Haas F1 Team"

The team are then going to take that speech and make a promo using photos of me and Carlos in the sim and in our race suits and by 2 PM the video is out and the Internet is going wild especially the other drivers who had no idea Carlos was going to Haas.

I get a text message from George who knows about my slight crush on Carlos and says:

"Don't get too carried away" I laugh at his message and Carlos asks what I'm laughing at but I just say it's a meme, and technically I'm not lying because I am talking to the most meme-able man ever.

Over the course of the next hour the media is going absolutely berserk. They never saw this coming and quite frankly I can't blame them because I didn't either and I don't think Gunther expected Carlos to actually say yes.

Mid way through scrolling through the comments Carlos comes over and says, "I'm going out for dinner tonight with Lando, George and Alex and they told me to tell you that you are also invited" I thank him for telling me and I get back to doing some admin tasks to pass time and clear things off my extensive to-do list.

As the day progresses my hangover eases off and I manage to cope without wearing sunglasses and I vow to myself that I'm not going to drink for a few weeks, but these self promises never seem to stick.

I'm sitting in one of the conference rooms meticulously reading through emails, rules and regulation changes, and other miscellaneous things like sponsorship information. It's all quite banal and mundane but I'm in a great flow and manage to read most of the stuff that I had been tasked with so it should make Gunther and the management team very happy, last year I didn't really make an effort and didn't fully comprehend all the rules and may have accidentally touched Zhou's Rear wing in parc ferme and it was a costly mistake that resulted in me being shouted at by Gunther like a school child.

I decide that I have read enough for one day so I decide to collect my belongings and head down to the reception area to wait for Carlos. He is taking a while so I begin to pace up and down admiring the past cars that are on display showcasing the history of Haas, but eventually Carlos does turn up.

"Sorry I'm late, Gunther was lecturing me" he says sincerely.

"It's fine he does that often" I say putting my coat on and removing my keys from my pocket.

"So what restaurant are we going to?" I add.

"It's a Thai restaurant that Alex found, I'll drive if you want me to".

I think for a moment but see he clearly wants to drive so I chuck him my keys and we exit the building.

When we arrive the guys are already standing outside waiting for us and as we step out the car George is giving me his usual devilish smile that is insinuating something. We greet each other and shake hands and hug each other and they are all excited as they haven't seen each other in a few months. Despite being in F1 for a year I kept myself to myself and maintained a private life and didn't really connect with other drivers apart from George, Lance and Pierre so it's a little awkward for me as I have barely said 10 words to Lando or Alex.

We eventually head in and we are shown to our table. I try to sit next to Carlos but Lando gets there before me so I sit down in-between Alex and George.

I take this time as an opportunity to get to know Alex as we haven't really had much time to talk.

"So how's things going at Williams?" Is the first question that comes to mind but given the results of the season I can sort of make my own answer up.

"Yeah it was a tough season but we are working hard this year, anyway how are things going at Haas especially after Mazepin?"

"Going well, obviously I have a new teammate now so hopefully more points and hopefully the car spends more time on the track than in the wall".

He laughs lightly at my little dig at Nikita and then asks how I'm finding Carlos being my new teammate and I can't really think of an answer as we have only done two days of simulator testing so I can't really give a valid answer so I simply reply "it's going well, I think we get on" George hears my response and I see him pulling that grin again and I lightly hit his leg with my foot under the table causing his grin to dissipate.

Over the course of dinner Lando and Carlos are constantly touching each other and joking with one another and for some reason I feel angry, jealous?

I know I have nothing to be jealous of, it's not as if he's my boyfriend or even remotely interested in me so I have no idea why I'm feeling these feelings that are so irrational.

At one point Lando is holding on to one of Carlos' arms and I excuse myself from the table and head to the bathroom where I take a moment to just cool down and splash some water on my face. I don't intend to make an embarrassment out of myself over a guy I have only really known for 2 days. As I'm patting my face dry with the paper towel I hear the door behind me creaking open and see George enter.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine just struggling with a hangover still" I reply.

"You know you are one of two people after Carlos and Lando is fierce competition. He won't let Carlos go that easily, but don't give up."

"I'm not after Carlos I'm after a race win and more points are the only 2 things I'm after in this world, besides relationships just get in the way" I start heading for the door and George places his hand on my shoulder.

"Believe me trying to block him out it won't work, I've seen Lando try and fail doing that. And you are teammates you are going to constantly be reminded of him"

"Thanks for the words of encouragement George" I say sarcastically before heading back to the table.

I manage to finish my meal and decide I have had enough of watching Lando fanboy over Carlos and say I'm going home and I ask Carlos for my car key.

When he asks why I'm going I say I'm just tired and he asks if I want him to drop me off but I tell him it's fine and he can stay and enjoy his evening.

As I walk out to my car and press unlock I hear someone call my name and turn to see Lando running towards me.

"Is everything alright?" I ask

"Everything is fine, just do me a favour and don't make things difficult for me and Carlos," he says.

"I'm sorry what do you mean exactly"

"Well I like him and I want to get with him at some point but I know you like him too so please let him go and settle for second best"

When he says that I become enraged and say something I probably shouldn't have.

"I guess you know a lot about being second best considering Oscar is always out qualifying you and getting more points than you, McLaren must really love you to still keep extending your contract but you will never be as good as Oscar"

"Don't be bitter Y/N it's not a good look"

During the drive home I am fueled by anger and I have gone over the speed limit a few times but at this point I don't really care, I have never been so annoyed by a single person.

I spent a year with Nikita and Dimitry Mazepin. I thought I had the patience of a Saint to deal with them, yet some McLaren driver comes along, makes a few comments and I see red.

I fumble around with my house keys before eventually finding the right one and open the door. The entire apartment is dead silent apart from the faint ticking of the clock. I throw my keys onto the small table by the front door and sit on the chair by the kitchen Island sipping on a glass of water when my phone pings and it's a message from Carlos.

'Hey Y/N me and Lando are going to a karting track tomorrow for a quadrant video. Would you like to come?"

I can't think of any excuse to get out of it so I text back "sure" despite the fact I'm completely unsure and a day with Lando and Carlos will really test my patience.

[desswright29]

You Make Me Wanna

Shame Pt. 4

Chapter Summary: You ever got cheated on and the person that cheated start being extra mean. Yea.

A/N: This has been a crazy week, and it’s my birthday weekend and I’m going to Ramla Ali’s fight tomorrow in Nola, so I wanted to get this out for y’all. I hope you guys enjoy it. And fingers crossed Tish is there. But I’m fine just knowing she’s been near Ramla. Yuh. I’m down extraordinarily bad lol. Anyway! We lit!! Enjoy the story. @bbbbbbrilliantly This ones for you! Forgive any mistakes this was very rushed.

word count: 2,866

Eve stood in front of you. Dark skin glistening wearing a beige cropped bustier top, and matching cargo pants. Hair in neat Fulani braids. She added a pop of color with an orange strappy heal and orange bag strapped across her body. She was STUNNING. 

“Uh-um. EVE! r-right? Hello I’m Y/n.” You say holding out your clammy palm for a shake. Saying Eve’s name with emphasis praying the name lands on Shuri’s ears, while you bought time.

“Shhhii- ” you could hear Shuri whisper in the background, not finishing before the soft sound of clumsy shuffling came from behind you, as Shuri ran to try and fix her self. ‘God please don’t let her hear that shit.’ You cursed inside at Shuri’s clumsiness. She’s supposed to be a stealthy panther person for Christ sake!

Eve looks you up and down taking in your appearance, before landing on your outstretched hand staring at it like it contained the plague. You slowly lowered your hand realizing she was uninterested in taking it. You stood there with the most inviting face you could muster under the circumstances. 

“Hm, your shirts buttoned wrong, and I believe the strings to those pants belong in the front. I would know since they’re my girlfriends pajamas” Eve’s eyes settled on the name embroidered right above the erect nipple that Shuri had just had her mouth attached to moments earlier. Eve’s eyes finally reached yours, head cocking to the side, one eyebrow raised, as she peered at you with a domineering grimace. 

This was escalating quickly.

“Uh she-“ 

BANG! 

“Mka!” The sound of Shuri’s voice came from inside the room.

“SHURI!!” Eve yells stepping up to you, eyes piercing into yours, Catching you off guard as she brought her hand up to the door that you held ajar only to the width of your body. She pushed it open with force. Bumping into you as she charged past you into the apartment. 

You stood in the doorway. Neck jerking back and eyes furrowing as your hands drop to your side. Stuck. Trying to figure out if this bitch  really just touched you?

Turning around choosing to give her the benefit of the doubt, (since you did just cum on her girlfriends thigh), you saw her standing in the center of the room. Eyes trained on Shuri who stood leaning against the small island, rubbing her hip bone, but completely put together like nothing had happened. Thanking Bast for the long jacket that covered the absolute creamy mess you’d made on her black pants.

“Sthandwa! I thought I heard your voice. Got a bit excited and ran into the island.” Shuri said tapping the marble for emphasis. 

“I wasn’t notified that you would be arriving my love.” She continued, walking over with a smile to embrace her. She’s a little to good at this, you think as you stood by and watched how this would play out. 

Eve’s eyes ever so perceptive, traveled about the room as she stepped into Shuri’s embrace. “That’s because I asked that you not be…….Surprise.” She says, dripping with sarcasm, stepping out of the embrace, and locking eyes with Shuri for only a moment to show that they still held suspicion. Those beautiful dark eyes continued traveling about the room.

Soft music playing. CLOCKED

Food on the stove. CLOCKED

Candle burning on the table next to the couch. CLOCKED

Two wine glasses on the table of the balcony. One empty. One with 1 to 2 swallows left. And a guitar? CLOCKED

Bed neatly made. Fresh dent in the couch. CLOCKED

“Mighty cozy set up you two got here” 

Shuri stepped up quickly.

“My love, no need to be uptight. Eve. Y/n. Y/n. Eve.” She introduces as you give a tense smile while Eve mugs you. 

“I just came by to check on our guest. She’d made Oxtail and jollof. You know I couldn’t resist food and a bit of nerd talk. She is a friend, a fellow scientist and has helped Wakanda tremendously in your absence. As for the set up, I guess Y/n romanticizes her alone time. The alone time in which I’d rudely interrupted.” 

Shuri looked at you with a smirk playing on her lips and a slight glimmer in her eyes. ‘Oh nah! She was prolific at this shit!’. She kept a cool head. She hadn’t lied, just left out the important parts. And it looked as though she was…. Enjoying this. 

“We should leave her to continue her night. I am excited you are hear my love. We’ve got lots to talk about.” Shuri said grabbing Eve’s hand, looking directly into her eyes.

“Y/n, thank you for the delicious dinner. We should do this again sometime.” She said as she walked past you. Discreet and fast, she lifted her hand gently cupping your breast, rubbing her thumb across the sensitive bud underneath the fabric. Causing your eyes to bulge and your breathe to hitch. 

“It was fun.” She looked at you, eyes low, bottom lip becoming trapped between her teeth, and then slowly released as she looked at the after math of the work she’d just put in.

You looked at Shuri speechless. As she took her exit with her girlfriend, who was sending you a death glare over her shoulder. Something had changed. And it felt dangerous. 

————————————————————————

The walk back to Shuri’s Quaters was silent. Both Eve and Shuri’s minds in overdrive. Shuri walked into the room first holding the door open for Eve and closing it behind her. She immediately started to make her way to the bathroom. 

“You think I’m a dummy?” Eve states. Standing in the center of the room.

Shuri Chuckles, stopping in her tracks “Here we go.. Quite the contrary my dear.” She turns looking to face Eve. “You disappear for two days and pop up at the room of my scientist obviously looking for a fight. Why? Might I ask?”

She was fully aware as to why. 

“You’re full of shit Shuri”

“I’m not doing this”

“We are doing this” 

“I just want to take a shower”

“Why the rush to shower? And alone? You’ve been asking for me to get here for weeks, I’m here love. Where’s the welcome?”

“EXACTLY!!“ Shuri yells stepping into Eves space” For weeks I’ve been asking you to be here with me, and for weeks you couldn’t make it. Two days ago you didn’t know if you’d be here and now surprise sur-fucking-prise.. here you stand. Why Eve?” 

Eve gives a slow clap, and sarcastic laugh; stepping back creating distance. “ OH! Braaaavooo Shuri! You’re doing a great damn job turning this shit around on me! You were oh so mature about me not being here last time we spoke. Now it’s a bother again! Fuck that! I got your little “Just because” flowers after that weird ass phone conversation. I knew something was up as soon as we got off of that call, but the flowers solidified it.”

Shuri scoffed “Only you would take an act of kindness and make something wrong with it.”

“ Oh no baby, hold that guilt trip. I got more for that ass!” 

Shuri rolls her eyes up to the ceiling, bringing her hand up to scratch at her undercut as Eve continued.

“So imagine my surprise and delight.. when my girls start sending me videos of you and ‘your scientist’ as you so intimately put it, damn near scissoring in the middle of the FUCKING MARKET!” Eve finished picking up a book off the chase in front of the bed and throwing it at Shuri. 

She caught it with expertise. Those panther powers coming in handy. Eve glares at Shuri fuming, disturbed to see a pissed off smirk on Shuri’s lips. As she nodded to herself.

“So that’s why you’re here now? A fucking dance?” She says calmly

“Shuri don’t piss me off! Next you’re gonna tell me that was your plan.”

Shuri took a moment to think before speaking again. Tongue slowly grazing her top row of teeth before she spoke.

“No, that was not my plan. I’d hopped you didn’t see it” She stalked towards Eve closing the distance. “ But, since you did.. It would suck to see someone take your place …wouldn’t it.” She says eyes never leaving Eve’s own. Shuri cocked her head to the side a smug look on her face. 

Taken aback Eve’s eyes widen.

“Listen closely my love, things here are different.” Shuri walks a circle around Eve as though she’s stalking her prey. 

“I’m different….She was here and you my dear out right refused to be here.”

“That’s not tr-“ 

Shuri tsk’d twice. Rounding Eve until they were once again face to face. She placed a finger to Eve’s pretty mouth. Continuing to speak in a stoic calm.

“I’m not done baby girl.” She removed her finger. 

“I asked you countless times to be here. Did I not? Don’t bother answering Sthandwa, It was retorical.“ She smiled, and Eve’s heart rate increased at the darkness taking over Shuri’s eyes. 

“You made your choice to stay away as I struggled. Left room for another woman to take care of me. And boy does she do a damn good job…”  She giggled bringing her thumb up to swipe against her bottom lip, reminiscing on the kisses she’d shared with you. 

“Was it really the dance that brought you? Or did you spend those 2 days in envy of the fact that her beauty rivals yours, my sweet beautiful Eve? Or was it the way that little waist and plump ass of hers fit so perfectly against me? Hm? I’m guessing all of the above.  Right? No one could ever compete with the beautiful Eve… That is until now.” 

Shuri stepped back and watched as Eve’s chest rose up and down heavily, as she was seething with anger. She decided this was a great time to drive her point home.

“Masenze ukuqonda(Let’s get an understanding). Had you have caught me with my head between her legs, what would you have done? Leave? Just hand over your chance to claim partnership with the Queen?” 

Shuri snickers. 

“ You wouldn’t dare. You’re here for the power. For my name….Right. With that being said, you have no room here to come barging in causing a scene and making demands. You are lucky that you can still stand in my presence. And if my presence is something that you will continue to pursue…” Shuri reached out and grabbed Eve’s jaw pulling her in closer.

“Uya kuyazi indawo yakho (You will know your place)” She drew her face in, and placed a rough kiss on her lips, before pulling away sharply, and making her dissent into the bathroom. 

“I will take my shower now. If you are here when I return. I’ll take it that you agree to my terms.”

Eve stood breathless still in the center of the room, as the bathroom door closed. What the fuck just happened?

———————————————

“OOP! SHURI! Wtf!” you say, as you find yourself being hoisted into the air and over her shoulder. You had woken up the next morning, disoriented from the days prior events, but wearily headed to your position of overseeing the lab, when you were suddenly rushed by Shuri. 

She ran up the steps to her office at lightening speed with you in tow. 

Once she reaches the office she turns to lock the door. She moves over to the desk and places you gently onto it before trapping you into a dizzying kiss. Almost casting a spell of forgetfulness over you. Almost.

You break the kiss, earning a displeased grunt from Shuri.

“Shuri.. was I dreaming? Did your girlfriend not show up at my door last night?”

Shuri shrugged, with a look of irritation on her face, shaking her head as if she didn’t get where you were coming from.

“Yes she did.”

You stood pushing her back.

“Did almost getting caught once not do it for you!? What are you doing!?” You ask bewildered at Shuri’s boldness. 

You were met with a blinding smile from Shuri. She backed away from you throwing her hands in the air while begining a dramatic pace around the room.

“Yoooou! Y/n. You, you, you!” 

You looked at her like the insane person she looked like while waiting for her to continue.

“ I can do this with YOU!” She laughed locking eyes with you. “I don’t know what you did to me last night, but something clicked for me zithandwa zam (my beloved). I feel like I can rule the world with you by my side! There’s so many peices to you, so much we could accomplish with one another. You’ve .. you’ve 

wayithimba intliziyo yam (captured my heart).”

She walked up to you cupping your face with both hands. 

“You are ukuthakatha intliziyo yam, (kiss), kunqandwa(kiss), obumangalisayo (kiss), eziphambili(kiss).”

(Bewitching my heart, arresting, exquisite, elegant)

You were perplexed to say the least. You had no idea what she was saying. But by her body language, and the inflections in her voice you knew she was passionate about it. It made you’re eyes glass over and your body tremble. You wanted nothing more than to be hers.

“W-what does all this mean Shuri. I-I’m confused.” You spoke only a little above a whisper. 

“It means I want you to be mine Y/n”

“H-how? I mean, does this mean you and Eve are no longer together? Did she figure it out? This is a lot right now. Everything is moving so fast! I mean of course I’ll be yours! I want that more than anything Shuri! But, so soon after your break up what will people thi-“ You spoke fast as you began pacing.

“There was no break up.” You froze. Eyes shooting up to meet hers. 

“Then why is this conversation being had?”

“ Because it is relevant my love, I want you to be mine, but I cannot leave Eve.”

Your face dropped.

“What” You breathe making it sound more like an exhale, taking a step back. 

“ I love Eve, I don’t intend to leave her”

“I-I are you serious? Where is this going Shuri, ‘cause I’m not understanding?”

“Y/n you are not dense, you know what I am asking. You are the entire package. Beauty, brains, and talent. We would be so powerful together. I want to give you all of me but I don’t want to hurt her. We’ve known each other since we were young.”

“Wait” you began to laugh, it started off slow until it became damn near manic. Shuri stood straight her face remaining stoic.

“S-so you’re asking me to be with you as some glorified side chick? A concubine?”

An incredulous look took over your face as Shuri remains steadfast.

“No” You simply say as you head for the door.

Shuri reaches out to grab your arm and you pull back harshly. 

“NO SHURI! Hear I am falling for you, trying to keep it in, knowing you have someone else, a-and then last night happened! I couldn’t control myself, only to immediately be left hurt and confused. Then you come here, get my hopes up only to crush them again! I don’t want to share you Shuri! I want you to myself! And you’re here telling me I wouldn’t be enough for you on my own?” Tears start to fall from your eyes. 

She walks up and wraps her arm around your waist, bringing her other hand up to wipe at your tears. 

“ That is not in the least what I meant Y/n. You are everything. You’d be more than enough with it just being me and you. I-I just can’t leave her now.”

You try to wiggle out of her grasp. 

“Shuri let me go!”

She drops her arms.

“You call me when you can. I’m going home.”

“Nononono! Wait! I need you here!”

“ I could care less about what you need as of now Shuri”

You walk out of her office, tears cascading down your face. As she called after you. 

“It was not my intent to hurt you. I don’t want to loose you” She said with a glint of fear in her eyes.

“You never had me.”

She froze as you look her dead in the eyes. You two were so focused on one another, that you couldn’t feel the eyes of everyone in the lab staring at you both as you stood at the top of the stairs. 

You turned to descend down the stairs, noticing Okoye, Aneka, and Eve standing there as everyone gawked at the drama unfolding in front of them. You walked over to the group. 

“Okoye, can you please arrange transport for me. I will be leaving as soon as you can get it set up for me. Thank you.”

You turn to look at Eve.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m out of your hair.”

———————————

You left Wakanda that day. Shuri stood in the hanger and watched you leave, not knowing what other approach to take. All she knew is she felt her heart clenching at the thought of really loosing you.

——————————

A/N: Not Shuri sprung off some dry humping. Chile lol. I hope you guys enjoyed. The next chapter will deal with what’s going on in the present.

[thevoidstaredback]

Callback to my senior year of high school when I went to compete in Shakespeare Comp. (I placed 13/20 in the chorus section. The song I chose is called In Darkness Let Me Dwell)

I am a very superstitious person and everyone knows this. One such superstition is about Shakespeare's Scottish Play.

For those who don't know, the basics of it are as follows: Shakespeare used an actual incantation in the play. The local witches didn't like this, so they cursed the show, causing major mishaps during any production. People have died while in a cast for it, or they've been injured. I read about where someone swapped the prop knife for a real one and one of the actors got stabbed.

Anyway, a lot of people (myself included) believe that the curse runs so deep that the very name of the play activates it. When said in any context outside of the actual show, bad things happen. It's why most people refer to it as The Scottish Play (it takes place in Scotland) instead of by it's actual name.

There are a few ways to put a hold on the curse, but people who don't believe in it don't like them because "they make me look ridiculous".

It's especially bad if the play's name is said in a theatre.

So! Cursed play, Shakespeare Comp., I'm performing on the second day. It was on a college campus, but the entire campus had been turned into various theatres for the competition's purposes.

My class is sitting in the main building, me getting ready to go perform and the others waiting around to go watch a play. (They watched one while I was performing because I was only allowed 2 audience, but I got to watch Pirates of Penzance with them) One of my classmates doesn't believe in the curse, but he is well aware that I am. Just as I'm ready to get in costume, he says the name of The Scottish Play. I turned on him and very kindly asked him to go undo the curse because I could not afford to be cursed by proxy. He refused. I went to perform.

I met up with everyone afterwards and we went to watch Pirates of Penzance (a very good musical, very funny) before heading back to the main building to get on the bus that would take us back to the hotel.

There was a drop off in front of the main building, barely a foot, that everyone was jumping off because the stairs/ramp were on the other side of the wall and no one really wanted to go that far. I was at the back of the group in costume - a wedding dress and character shows, don't ask - so I was the last one to jump down.

My friend knows I fully blame him for what happens next and that I'm only slightly joking. I still don't forgive him.

The heel of my shoe caught the seam where the cement ends and the patch for the tree starts. My ankle went right (towards the tree) and the rest of me went left (towards the bench). My friend, Rigs, heard me fall and came back to help. Another friend, Ris, and the VP on the trip with us both came back as well. Ris went back to the group and got our teacher and another friend, Ken. I was in pain and feeling crowded, so the only person I would let stay with me was Ken, though the VP had to stay. The others went ahead and the bus came around because I couldn't walk.

When we got back to the hotel, I was the last off, but, again, putting weight on my right ankle was not gonna happen, so Ken's boyfriend princess carried me into the hotel. When we got to our floor, they got the rolly chair from the room I was in and that's how I got back.

Changing outta the wedding dress was a pain because I don't like changing around people, so I didn't let anyone help me. (Dressing rooms are different) (And I had to change my bra. I don't care how much I trust the three I was rooming with, I was not about to be tits out in front of any of them)

My teacher's wife (who was with us) bought an ankle brace while the VP bought some crutches. I went to the doctor's the day after we got back (it was a three day trip) and I was told that if it had been a drop from any higher or if there had been even the slightest bit more weight in it, my ankle bone would've fractured or broken.

I had to wear a boot for two months, and I wore the ankle brace whenever I had to perform, made the NYC trip (for choir) hell. It still hurts from time to time, though it's been about two years, give or take a few months.

Anyway, that's the story of how I almost broke my ankle.

Also, I saw another guy on crutches the next day. I asked him what happened and he said that his friend had said the name of the Scottish Play, too.

[arthenaa]

To be or not to be (CHAPTER 1)

Auror! Sebastian Sallow x Fem! MACUSA Auror! Reader Series

Story Summary: To prevent a war between humans and wizards, you and Sebastian are tasked with your respective agencies to save the fate of the wizarding world from the hands of a dark wizard in the Philippines.

Chapter Summary: The agencies get news of what happened, they've decided to put you and Sebastian on the case.

Chapter warnings: cursing, nothing much really, seb and you arguing its kinda cute,

Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 2

Notes: this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but i got kinda sick and only finished it now. enjoy the 6k words ppl and if you ever want to join the tag list for this fic to receive immediate updates regarding future chapters, just reply on any of my posts about to be or not to be hehe

“Simmons is summoning me?”

You were sure you heard wrong. An effect of the coffee you bought from a No-Maj coffee shop on the way to work. The caffeine was kicking in and causing you to have auditory delusions.

Yes, surely that must be it,

But the more you assess the woman’s deadpan stare and exhausted stature, the more you started to doubt if the coffee really had an effect at all. You had gone to the MACUSA headquarters with no expectations and a hefty paperwork awaiting your desk. It was mostly due to the fact that you had finished a heavy case alongside your mentor and Senior Auror, Elliot Fontaine.

Having mentors in MACUSA meant potential. They took you under their wing because they saw great potential in you and would have the possibility of joining the higher ranks alongside them where witches and wizards with formidable power reside. It was an honor that you definitely upheld and cherished from the day when Elliot witnessed your magical prowess on the field and began calling you ‘kid.’ He’s been with you ever since. Having a mentor also meant that you took cases in pairs. Lower rank Aurors are mostly handled and led by the Middle Ranks. They are formed in squads or teams while Higher rank Aurors such as Elliot operated individually or sometimes in pairs when they choose to mentor someone. Usually higher ranks are tasked with grave cases which usually involved dark wizards who plan to overtake communities while the lower ranks settled to maintain order and minor cases.

You had expected the moment that Gladys Hale, Joan Goldstein’s stagiaire, stepped into your office that a case would be delivered for your mentor but to your very very very big surprise. It was addressed to you.

“Are you sure you’re not tricking me? Like this is not some form of prank to make me look bad or something?” You asked with your hands wringing each other as you looked up at her with big eyes from your seat behind your desk. She blinks slowly as if to further emphasize her lack of mood to jest. You lick your lips as you feel them dry up from the lack of moisture in the air. The clacking of typewriters and the scratching of quill pens against parchment paper (a charm you had casted as multiple quills help you in lessening the piling workload on your desk) form a comfortable distraction from Gladys’ piercing eyes.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” She says your last name with such disdain as if to say how disgusted she is that you would even consider her travelling few floors down instead of dawdling with the higher ups just to prank you. You let out a shaky breath as you place your hands on the cool wooden surface of your desk.

“… Can I at least know the details?”

“I’m not authorized to reveal case details unless you agree to come with me to the designated place.” Gladys answers with curt and firm professionalism. You stare at her some more, trying to find a flaw in her body language. It wasn’t every day that the President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America would personally summon you to her office. Normally, situations like that called trouble or a possible loss of job or banishment to the cells under the Woolworth building and you were sure that you did nothing to warrant such cruel punishments (you think?).

You hadn’t realized that your mind further buried you into a spiraling descend to overthinking when Gladys decided she had enough and snapped her fingers in front of your face. You lean back fast in surprise as her face seems to look grouchier and cold than the last.

“Look, all I know is that Fontaine was the one who suggested you for this case to the President. Rest assured that your mentor will be present while they debrief you. A few other senior Aurors will be on standby and judging by the fact that Fontaine, Goldstein and Walker are called in one room, you are safe to assume that this is counted as a very important case. Understand?” Gladys raises her eyebrows as she expects you to finally calm your thoughts with her vague explanation.

It certainly did not help at all.

You put on a stiff smile while you made sure to strangle your no-good-of-a-mentor right after this so called debrief. So let’s sort this out, MACUSA’s great three is present in one room with the President being the handler of this case and they’ve elected you to be the primary representative and investigator of whatever fuckery this case might be.

What the actual fuck? Are they fucking mental?

“No, they’re not fucking mental, Y/N.” Gladys retorts as she crosses her arms over her chest. Right, she’s a legilimens. Right on Joan Goldstein’s track. The Senior Auror often handled prosecutions and interrogations. Gladys proved to be quite effective in this side of the Auror office due to her ability and efficiency in prosecuting dark wizards and made sure they rot in hell in their prisons under the fucking congress. It certainly proved to be a pain on the ass right now though. “Do know that ill-intentions towards the higher ranks are—“

“It was a joke, Hale. Calm your tits.” You chortle as you rise from your seat, putting on your coat and grabbing your wand from the safety of your desk drawer. Gladys sighs as she then waits for you to get ready. With a firm tug on the collars of your coat, you turn towards the brunette with a smile.

“Can’t keep the Madam President waiting can we?” You outstretch your hand towards her. “Assuming from the vague details you just explained, we’re expected someplace else?”

“Correct,” Gladys grabs your outstretched hand before pulling out a small book from her pockets. You know what it was—a portkey. To where it might lead you? You’ll never know. She glances at you as she motions the book in her hand. “This is authorized, do not fret.”

You sigh before nodding. Apparating within congress grounds was usually prohibited and there were only certain areas in the ministry that allowed such modes of travel. Portkeys usually were required to have the authorization and approval of the Travel department as well as the President so you knew that you didn’t need to move someplace else for the portkey to work. You only hope that the journey won’t result in you puking your guts out.

Gladys levitates the book in her hand as it begins turn page after page in a fast pace. The magic ruffles your clothes as green light emerges from the paper material of the pages. Gladys turns to you with a smile. “Let’s visit home, shall we?”

­­­­­­­­­­­ Rain pours down unto the streets of London, rendering the streets with murky waters. People bustle here and there as carriages roll down the stone pavements. It was considered to be another normal day for muggles however an entirely different scene is happening within the alleyways of London. A shadow stands on top of the buildings and peers down unto the narrow paths, watching a figure run down with escape only in their mind. The rain wets his coat as he lifts his wand, tip illuminating as he focuses it on the running figure. He then raises his free hand to tap against his temple, the skin illuminating under his touch. He forms a mind connection with another.

“Coming out your way. King’s Road. I’ve casted the tracking charm.” Sebastian Sallow murmurs into the connection with his partner. The figure disappears from his sight as he turns a sharp left into the streets.

“Nice work. On your position.” The man on the other side praises his work before the connection drops. He lets out a sigh before apparating to the discussed location. The man tries to disguise himself with the crowd as he pulls his coat to further cover his face. Sebastian follows him quietly behind, glancing on the other side of the street as another auror matches his pace. The fugitive seems to have caught on causing him to break into a sprint. The auror on the other side of the street gives him a curt nod before chasing him down. Sebastian turns to a corner to take a shortcut before a pair of hands grab him from moving any further. He raises his head in surprise, staring at familiar cloudy blue eyes.

“Ominis?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows in surprise at the presence of his dearest friend, Ominis Gaunt. The former Slytherin smiles at Sebastian’s voice before nodding his head towards the other way.

“No time to waste, come with me.” He mumbles quietly as he grasps his arm but Sebastian only stands still—confused.

“We’re in the middle of an operation. Wren’s expecting me to be with her in a few minutes. I’m sure this can wait?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows as Ominis lets out a huff. “They’re about to catch Collins and I have to be there to help.”

Ominis Gaunt can’t help but roll his eyes at his best friend’s attempt at firmness. It never really suited him as someone who had experienced all sorts of tomfoolery the Sallow boy had done throughout their stays at Hogwarts. After their graduation, the two of them immediately got jobs at the ministry. Ominis wasn’t surprised that Sebastian became an Auror and he was glad and incredibly grateful for his job at the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He often travelled as a demand from his work so seeing the brunette in front of him was definitely a missed sight. The Henry Collins case was trending currently in the wizarding world. An alchemist who used muggle subjects to perform his works on was horrifying enough that it was considered a main priority. Of course, you could count Sebastian Sallow to be part of the group of Aurors in charge of the case. Under the guidance and authority of Victoria Wren, a senior Auror and quite a renowned one, he was considered to be a genius investigator and a skilled duelist. Two factors that made him a great Auror. He was already recognized by the head as well as the Minister for Magic. It was safe to say that he was quite requested for the important cases. As said before, the Henry Collins Case was considered to be a priority, until recently.

“I was tasked to fetch you. They’ve sent someone from Yaxley’s squad to cover your position. Wren’s notified of it just now.” Ominis taps the end of his cane against ground, a small act he has to keep up with to avoid stares from muggles. Luckily with years of practice in transfiguration, he was able to transfigure his wand into a cane that allowed him to navigate himself freely in unknown areas without having to hit random strangers’ knees every time. It was a few hard months but definitely worth it. Professor Weasley surely must be proud of him.

Sebastian furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Tasked by who?”

Ominis sighs before placing a firm hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “The Minister of Magic himself along with the Head Auror. They’ve got a case for you. Bigger than this one, I fear.”

Sebastian’s jaw slightly falls at the mention of the two important figures. It wasn’t every day that the higher ups were the ones who requested for your presence. He wasn’t even promoted yet (a stupid mistake on Wren’s behalf according to him) and here he was, personally requested by wizards who could easily end his career. He lets out a shaky breath before glancing at the bustling street then back at his best friend.

“Are you sure you’re not just pranking me or something?” Sebastian tries to reassure the situation one more time but Ominis only shakes his head with a smile.

“Such a worrywart you are, Sebastian Sallow. Where has the Slytherin in you gone? A stain on Salazar’s legacy.” Ominis dramatically replies as he moves forward to intertwine his arm with Sebastian. He nudges him slightly before letting out a breath. “Hang tight.”

“What—“

And that was the last thing Sebastian said before he was pulled in by magic with three taps of Ominis’s cane on the ground.

“You could’ve at least let me prepare before apparating out of there?”  Sebastian leans against the ministry’s cold walls as he catches his breath. Ominis appears to be unaffected as he transfigures the cane back to his wand. Sebastian looks up at him with disdain. “How’d you even apparate in?”

“Authorized. Bragging rights.” Ominis grins as he begins to walk down the halls of the international delegation office, an exhausted Sebastian trudging behind him. The brunette examines the blonde’s back with boredom as he passes office after of office. Levitating quills and flying books flutter in the air as they quickly made their way to the double doors at the end of the hallway. Ominis stops with a quick halt causing Sebastian to bump into his back.

The brunette lets out an oomph as he pushes back against Ominis to steady himself. The blonde turns towards him with a sigh. Sebastian feels like his best friend would chastise him once more for his lack of attention but the blonde only turns back around towards the large black glossy doors and knocks a rhythm on the surface.

Instead of opening up like normal doors, they rotate as a gargoyle replaces its position. Ominis leans in to speak in parseltongue and Sebastian can’t help but be amused at his best friend speaking the language of snakes once more.

He remembers the blonde promising to not speak it again after their little altercation in the scriptorium.

“Sorry, the complexity of it all has a reason.” Ominis explains as the gargoyle rotates once more revealing a set of staircase leading down. Sebastian glances behind him as he lets his best friend go first before following behind him.

Every step lights a blue flame on the walls as they descend down the spiraling stairs. It was quite dizzy at first but the scenery of a whole new floor left Sebastian in awe. A functioning headquarters was right under the gargoyle as wizards and witches bustle around. Sebastian furrows his eyebrows as a large projection of a man getting blasted across the room and an image of a woman appears right after. The danger meter hanging on top of the ceiling was dangerously touching the tips of the red shade.

What the fuck is happening?

The two reach the final step before Ominis drags them to the front of the room where the Head Auror, Ryona Bassett, Minister for Magic, Howard Arkenstone and someone whom he’d never expect to be there, his old professor, Aesop Sharp.

The three seem to be in a deep conversation as Ominis and Sebastian arrive. The Gaunt clears his throat catch their attention. Ryona lets out a breath of relief at the arrival. “You’re here, at last.”

“Why is the meter red?” Sebastian immediately intercepts as he stares at the clock dangling on the ceiling. “That wasn’t like that this morning. Is it because of Collins?”

Howard lets out a sad huff. “Your mentor has got the Collins case handled but I’m afraid there are much more pressing matters. We received an intercontinental transmission message from another wizarding community regarding an emergency.”

Sebastian furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at the giant projection. Ryona moves beside Sebastian as she watches the moving image of the situation playing in a loop. The Head Auror turns towards the Sallow boy with a look of anguish. “That wizard community is at its wilting threads because of this, Sebastian. It’s only a matter of time that we’ll be affected by it as well.”

The brunette glances back at Ryona who smiles at him. “We’ve decided to put you on the case.”

“What?”

“You’re a duelist and have far more knowledge in the dark arts. At least according from what I heard from your Head Auror.” His old professor, Aesop intercepts. Ryona nods at his words.  “I was called here by Ryona. I will be part of the overseeing team of this whole case. There has never been a case like this for years.”

“I will be with you as well.” Ominis reassures behind him. Sebastian sighs as he tucks his hands within his pockets.

“Alright, tell me everything I need to know.”

Ilvermorny was beautiful than ever.

Sat on the highest peak of Mount Greylock was Ilvermorny School for Witches and Wizards. A place you once called home. Your old school. The stone walls of the castle looked sturdy and firm like it always had been as you trudged the halls of the castle. A few students murmur against one another as their eyes linger at your figures. You could practically hear the whispers of amazement as they recognize your connection to the congress. It wasn’t unusual to see an Auror here and there in the streets of New York but to see them in schools was definitely an alarming sight. It usually meant something was in trouble.

The potions professor, Ellen Quinn was tasked to be your guide to the assigned meeting. It was wise of the President to conduct her debrief here considering that Ilvermorny, like other wizarding schools, is a base of wizardry’s most powerful defense and combat magic. Where else to discuss such matters than the safest place in the wizarding world of America?

The heels of your boots clack nicely against the marble floors as you near the entrance to the Great Hall. Gladys stands beside you as Ellen motions for the two of you to wait before entering the hall. A blue light glides over the huge double doors—a privacy protection charm that you were sure Gregory Walker casted. A pure master in charms and spells. The man was most known for his great skill in silent charms and also created upgraded spells. A man of innovation.

Your mentor was most known for his affinity with the dark arts. Elliot Fontaine still is America’s most skilled magic duelist to this era. His work was often affiliated with dark magic and slowly he was able to build a slight immunity from dark curses. You weren’t surprised as to why they were called the MACUSA’s finest. Soon enough, you knew that you’d have to fill in the shoes of your mentor as Gladys and Gregory’s protégé will.

Gladys shuffles quietly beside you and you couldn’t help but turn your head towards her shifting. “Nervous?”

“For what? I’m not the one handling the case.” She answered with a teasing tone as she places her hands behind her back. You tense at the reminder before continuing to reminisce the memories of the past.

“I take that you’re a Horned Serpent then?” You change the topic as you glance at her from your peripheral vision. Gladys shakes her head as she laughs softly in amusement.

“Is it the legilimency that made you think that?” Gladys replies. You shrug jokingly.

“I mean, it makes sense…”

“Well, you’re right.” Gladys pats your shoulder as she replies. “Everyone expects a Hale to be a Horned Serpent.”

“Notice how I didn’t mention your lineage?”

“Oh shut up,” Gladys rolls her eyes as she says your name with playful annoyance. The doors open once more and you suddenly feel immense pressure from the amount of eyes staring at your arrival.

Joanne Goldstein.

Gregory Walker.

Elliot Fon—Wait no that old man can suck ass actually,

And of course, the President of MACUSA and the handler of your case, Margaery Simmons. You lock eyes with her and you see her lips twitch up into a gentle smile.

“Ms. Hale and Ms. Y/L/N.” She greets you with a gentle but professional tone. Your hands sweat as you enter the room. The doors glide again with the blue light as it closes with an echo. You discreetly brush them against the fabric of your coat before shaking the hand of America’s most beloved witch. “I trust that Ms. Hale was able to somewhat give you an idea as to why you were summoned here?”

“Somewhat.” You answer with a stiff smile as you glance at your mentor who only grins cheekily form his position beside Joanne. You subtly widen your eyes at him to which the senior Auror chuckles at.

“Good. Good.” Margaery nods her head slightly before grabbing a discarded newspaper placed on one of the tables. “Now that you have established that the debrief today is of a case with utmost importance, we will move on to the details.”

“To speed things up.” She adds as she motions the newspaper towards you and you take it with hesitance before flipping it to read the heading.

Influencial Seromahi killed by an unforgivable. Sources say the witch responsible for the murder is a Salazar.

“Seromahi?” You whisper in confusion as a moving picture of the event plays on the newspaper. You watch as a man is thrown back across the room by a spell you know all too well. A picture of a woman then flashes beside it, eyes mischievous and calculating.

“That’s a translated newspaper sent to us. It means No-Maj. Muggles for Britain.” Margaery muses as she elegantly places her hands on top of each other, positioned on her lower stomach. “Human.”

No way?

“A wizard killed a No-Maj in plain sight.” Gregory Walker chimes in from his position. Your heads turn towards him. “There are witnesses. Countless. Normally, matters like this are settled by their respective magical communities but the No-Maj killed is of foreign lineage.”

“An influential one as well.” You whisper as you try to assess more of what happened through the moving images. “How influential exactly?”

“A general.” Joanne Goldstein replies as she continues to sit on one of the empty chairs. “A friend and a close adviser to the King of Spain. This means something worse for us. A country as large and influential as Spain gaining knowledge of the existence of the wizarding world proves to be severely detrimental not only for the targeted magical community but also for the whole.”

Your jaw flutters at the severity of the situation as they stare at you with such seriousness. The gravity of this case can almost pummel you to the ground. Your hands tighten their grip around the paper. Margaery notices your nervousness. “Mr. Fontaine has suggested to assign you this task because of your capabilities and incredible skills as well as your affinity for magical tracing in dark magic. We don’t have much information on this but the head of the targeted magical community has reached out to send representatives per agency. You will not be alone in this, Y/N.”

This has to be your worst case yet. A wizard killing a No-Maj was not unheard of, in fact many prisoners underneath Woolworth were testified and charged guilty for the very reason. The severity of this situation was because the murder had been done in front of numerous No-Majs and the victim was also of influential standing. The murderer knew what she was doing. She did this on purpose.

Elliot Fontaine then walked towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve proven yourself worthy of this case. This counts as your immediate promotion, kid. You’re designated as a Senior Auror and investigator. Welcome to the ranks, detective.”

You turn towards Margaery who nods in agreement. Gladys smiles behind you as she only watches and listens in on the discussion. You bow your head in respect, unable to currently speak words from the shock of it all.

A promotion and a fucking mind shattering, headache inducing of a case. How wonderful.

“We’ll be right with you as combat squads in case a brawl happens, Ms. Y/N.” Joanne reassures you. “Until then, you and a few other representatives will be the ones leading this case.”

“Where is it located?” You ask as you fold the newspaper and tucking it under your arm. Gladys turns towards you as she flips a coin into the air before catching it effortlessly.

“The Philippines.” She says as she smiles. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “But before we head there, we rendezvous first with the representative of the British Ministry of Magic.”

Elliot grins as he tucks his hands inside his pockets. “Pack up. We’re going to London.”

You had never expected your first trip to London was going to be like this.

Put on the spot by your higher ups to lead an investigation alongside a British representative was certainly not one of your list of reasons in visiting. You hoped that it would be for a vacation; a well-deserved leave.

You sigh for the nth time because while you did not expect your week to end up like this, it seems Isolt Sayre frowned upon you. Your day is in absolute shit.

First, you were lost. Like a kid who got lost in a fucking playground lost. Though these things never bothered you that much, it certainly was an annoying thing to deal with. You had gone out to hunt for a proper No-Maj coffee. Gladys thinks it’s absurd that you prefer No-Maj coffee over her own brew but you don’t have the heart to tell her that your heart might as well explode from the amount of caffeine she intakes and it’s not even the No-Maj kind which gives you the right kind of palpitation but it’s the wizard kind that leaves all sorts of side effects. You don’t want to deal with having discolored eyes for an hour because of it. Anyways, after hunting for a good coffee, you had somehow forgotten to retrace your footsteps.

You might be thinking, oh! But you’re a wizard anyways, you can just apparate out of there! WRONG. You had forgotten your wand as well. The portkey had already destroyed your inner organs (exaggerated obviously) and had left your mind grasping at straws. It hasn’t reversed back to its prime condition as you had forgotten your most important necessity of all.

You trudge along the streets of London with an exhausted look on your face. You look around, taking in the bustling streets of Monday morning. It was early and your darling roommate, Gladys Hale, had taken it upon herself to suffocate into the comfortable and soft duvet in her sleep. Well, you couldn’t blame her. The beds were definitely nice.

After being promoted as a Senior Auror, Joanne Goldstein had assigned Gladys Hale to be your assistant for the case. She says after all that 3 minds are better than two. You could almost laugh at Gladys’s stiff face as she certainly did not expect to be included in the trip.

As promised, the other Aurors had their respective portkeys, in case a war or a brawl severe enough to warrant backup was needed. They still had to solve other cases after all.

Unaware of your surroundings, you were suddenly pushed harshly on the side. You yelped at the sudden force as you landed on your side at the stone pavement, the harsh texture of rock digging on your skin. You were about to curse whoever it was but a sudden neigh of a horse catches your attention.

Your eyes widened as a horse seemed to have noticed you last minute and began to jump up in fear. Its hooves were directly in front of your face and the overall posture of the animal made it feel so large and intimidating.

Time slowed and you wondered if this was how you were going to die.

You could hear horrified gasps and the horrified yells of the coachman. This was it. The horse was about to smash your face in and you certainly think that whatever might have possessed Margaery to decided how much of a fucking idiot decision to place you as lead investigator for this whole Salazar case is a bunch of bullshit. Yeah, the old man was a bunch of bullshit as well. You close your eyes in fearbefore you hear a spell being casted.

“Petrificus Totalus.”

It was curt and discreet but you heard it. The horse froze above you suddenly and you took the chance to crawl backwards and out of its smashing zone. The spell was immediately gone as it was casted and a hand on your arm pulls you up.

“Are you okay?” He asks as he stands you properly. You stare at him, unable to speak as you look down at your spilt coffee. He notices where you’re looking at before sighing. “Please don’t go under horses and squashing yourself.”

You look back at the crowd you had created as they begin murmur and gossip over what just had happened. The man tsked as he pulled off his coat and pulled it over your head. You certainly think following this man was a bad idea but he had saved you and he was a wizard, so that was a well reason enough. He pulled you in an empty alleyway, away from prying eyes.

“Thank you— “As you try to express your gratitude, he pulled out his wand and pressed the tip of it against your temple. Your eyes widen as you know what he’s doing it. “Wait! Are you fucking obliviating me?!”

The man tilts his head back in shock at your reply. He squints his eyes as he drops his wand back. “Are you a witch?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Yes and you just tried to fucking obliviate me without even giving me the chance to speak.”

“I thought you were a muggle. You had no wand on you?! Who doesn’t bring their wand everywhere. It’s like your most important necessity.” The man reasoned. Your jaw flutters in annoyance.

“Look, I didn’t mean to leave it at home but—“

The man then tensed, wand raised again as he squints his eyes in suspicion. “Wait, who sent you? Wizards lingering like this sound awfully suspicious.”

Your jaw drops at the accusation. Is this what you get for agreeing to this stupid mission? Your coffee definitely got the brunt end of it. You place your hands on your hips as you give him an incredulous stare. “Are you insisting I’m a criminal?”

“… Maybe,”

“You fucking idiot.”

“I-I mean who knows!” The wizard tries to defend himself. “You’re certainly acting like one.”

“What is your standard actually? I’ll have you know that casting spells in a No-Maj environment is a grave offense.” You retort, face filled with fury. You were seriously going to bash this man’s head in.

“I saved your life?!”

“Still, No-Maj environment mister.”

“No-Maj?” He tilts his head like a dog confused. It was almost cute if not for his idiocy. You sigh as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“No magic. A non-wizard, dumbass.”

“For your information, we call them muggles.” He sarcastically responds before grabbing your arm. You gasp at his forward actions before trying to pull away.

“What are you doing?! I could have you filed for sexual assault—“

“I’m bringing you over to the ministry. Surely your excuse will matter when you face the court.” He scrunches his nose at you like an adult trying to talk to a toddler. You gasp at his insinuation and before you could even respond, you were gone.

Then a blink of an eye, you were someplace else.

You were sure that you were in a similar place to MACUSA. After all, you had heard him say ‘Ministry’ as he had forcefully hauled your ass over after he had tried to obliviate you. Darn fucking Monday.

The clack of your boots and his pristine shoes against the marble floors were satisfying. You could only look around in awe as he dragged you by the arm. The architecture was stunning. It was certainly quite different from your agency. It definitely gave off elegance. Amidst admiring the wondrousness of the building’s interior, you were then pulled to a stop which caused you to stumble on your feet.

The man gave you a look over with a raised eyebrow before looking at the receptionist. The woman nods in familiarity. “Mr. Sallow! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Is the court available? I have this very suspicious witch in my hands. I’d like her to be interrogated.” He smiles innocently at the receptionist who only raises her eyebrows in slight surprise. You turn towards him with a shocked look on your face.

“You’re putting me on trial?!”

“Why not?” He looks at you, deadpan. Oh gods, you wish you could strangle this man. “Loss of magical object and ill-intentions toward an officer-in-charge. Shall I name more?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“You wish, darling.” He leans in with a wink, mockingly. You could feel your face heating at the response. This man was certainly attractive but you couldn’t let that distract you from planning to curse his bloodline for the next 7 fucking generations.

That was a joke.

You think?

You let yourself be dragged begrudgingly before a call of your name catches your attention. You never knew Gladys Hale’s presence could be a sigh of relief. It was almost comforting. The woman mentioned marched with fury leaving her steps as her eyes never seem to leave yours. She calls your last name once more. “You fucking idiot! I leave you for 15 minutes and now you’re getting yourself arrested?!”

The man responsible for your capture pauses as he stares at the two of you. You look at Gladys with pleading eyes. “Save me, Hale. This man’s trying to put me in jail for baseless claims.”

“She left her wand. Insulted me too.” The man chimes in as he locks eyes with Gladys. Your companion looks back at you with a sigh before pulling said object from her coat pocket. You let out a noise of appreciation as you grab the object, hugging it close to your chest.

“We’re with MACUSA,” Gladys flashes her ID to Sebastian who furrows her eyebrows. “We’re supposed to be expected here— “

Sebastian’s eyes move from Gladys before looking at the newly entered people who, at first, doesn’t seem to notice them but then a man calls out an unfamiliar name and then he locks eyes with the Head Auror. He would try and greet in respect but the sound of you acknowledging the call immediately turned his head towards you in shock. Don’t fucking tell me this is—

“It seems you’ve already acquainted yourselves with one another?” Howard smiles alongside an unfamiliar man who he assumes to be of utmost importance judging by his overall aura. You furrow your eyebrows before turning towards the man beside you with a shocked look on your face.

“No fucking way.”

Elliot lets out a soft chuckle. “Mr. Sallow. Ms. Bassett has told me about you. Allow me to introduce my stagiaire, this is Y/N Y/L/N, MACUSA’s representative for the Salazar case.”

Sebastian turns to him in surprise, still speechless. The Head Auror notices the tense aura between you two. She raises an eyebrow at Sebastian who only smiles sheepishly at her stare.

“Alright, we’ve got no time to lose. Let’s go ahead and debrief the whole situation.”

You couldn’t believe this.

No, you will yourself not to. Sebastian, as you had come to know from his introduction, was supposedly your partner for this case. Well, the case was expected to have at least 5 representatives guided by a Division captain from the Philippines’ magical community. In those 5 representatives, they will be then grouped according to skill compatibility. The man beside you were decided to be your partner alongside Philippines’ representative, which you will meet at your arrival.

“According to our sources, the witch on target is Regina Salazar. A pureblood witch who was a big activist in the community.” Head Auror, Ryona Bassett discusses as she flips through a folder of the case intel. All of you had the same folder and your eyes lock with the moving picture of the culprit on yours. A pureblood? Interesting.

“Activist?” Sebastian chimes in from your side.

“The gal was a huge advocate for voicing the wizarding minority in the Philippines. Not sure as to why she’d suddenly kill a muggle. Sources also claim she’s quite friendly to muggles as well.” Howard furrows his eyebrows before placing his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers with one another.

“Quite an odd background for a dark wizard.” You comment as you flip through the case notes. Ryona seems to have her eyes settled on you before letting out a sigh.

“It seems we had a bit of an altercation this morning, Ms. Y/L/N,” Your head turns to her in surprise. “I apologize in behalf of the confusion.”

You bit your lip before smiling at her. “It’s alright, Ms. Bassett.”

“Aurors in the ministry should be great examples of the wizarding community,” Ryona sends a sharp look at Sebastian who almost cowers in fear like a kid who got caught in stealing some cookies. “My men should know better, isn’t that right, Mr. Sallow?”

The man lets out a begrudging sigh before turning towards you with a stiff look on his face. “Apologies, Ms. Y/L/N. Don’t forget your wand next time.”

You smile sarcastically at him before faking a smile towards the higher ups in front of you. Your mentor claps his hands to catch the attention of the room.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way. The case file also mentioned the discovery of an area in the northern Philippines.” He starts off as he stands from his seat, hands behind his back. “Not much is said about this in the files so I assume the debrief on this part will be conducted by your Division captain.”

You and Sebastian nod in understanding. The rest of the room stands up after an hour of planning before the Minister for Magic, Howard Arkenstone breaks the silence. “The two of you alongside Gladys Hale and Ominis Gaunt will be leaving for the Philippines in a few hours. Pack up what you need to bring and I can only hope that your time working together will be as efficient and swift as your capabilities as Aurors. Do I make myself clear?”

There’s a pause before both of you nod in understanding. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” Howard nods at the two of your before motioning Ryona and Elliot to join alongside him. “Come, we have to talk to the operations team as well.”

The two follow him out of the room, leaving the two of you to still be standing in silence beside each other. As soon as the doors close with a loud thud, you turn towards him with a serious look on your face.

“Look, I’ve decided to forgive and forget this little altercation we had this morning in hopes that we’ll be having a good partner relationship.” You smile innocently at him. You sure hope that he’d let this go considering he was the one who started the whole shebang. He only smiles at you with a slight chuckle, a little too condescending. Your hate for this man ups a scale for sure.

“Mhm,” He hums, a little too low. It stirs something in your stomach that you indefinitely ignore. He leans down with a patronizing smile. “This is important for the wizarding world after all.”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Are you?” He raises an eyebrow before standing in his full height. He steps aside to gather his case file and then walking out of the room. You stare at his back as he pauses before turning back towards you.

“Let’s work well together, Ms. Y/L/N. I look forward to our time in the Philippines.”

He sends you a boyish grin that would’ve made you swoon if it weren’t for his little act. You knew he was just playing along by your rules but never taking you seriously. You huff in annoyance as you run your fingers through your hair.

Sayre, this is going to definitely be a long fucking annoying case.

Notes:

sebastian: *smirks*

reader: oh my fucking god you're so fucking annoying fuck you fuck me id let you do unspeakable things to me

anys hehe so theres gonna be five of u gasppp <3 and also a bit of bg introduction of the plot's main antagonist hehe hope you guys enjoyed this hihi, apologies if theres any grammatical errors or typos, ill be proof reading tom mwa

[miya-y]

Rain Dumplings is angry - Bakugou, grateful.

A short story where Bakugou is being shunned by the media and you impulsively post something in his defense.

Black Reader x Bakugou Katsuki

English is not my first language. If something is wrong, blame the translator, please.

Fem!Reader but sometimes different pronouns appear in the translation, so forgive me (English is kind of confusing for me, really)

that's it, have fun.

I got the image from pinterest, credits to the artist <3

“Hey Dumplings, have you seen Uravity's new accessories collection yet? I bought the Saturn set and I feel like the most adorable person in the entire universe.”

The caption accompanied the photo of him with the aforementioned set of necklace and earrings, in pink, contrasting with his black skin. Your curly hair was tied up in a poorly improvised bun, but you didn't care.

You had a somewhat well-known profile. When he first came to Japan a few years ago, it was a bit difficult to get used to everything. Culture, Language, behaviors… everything was so different! The only thing you could hold onto to maintain normalcy was hero merchandise. There was some feeling of “safety” when you wore a hero-themed outfit. Just your emotion, maybe, but being connected to some hero symbol made you feel like you could take on the whole world and win.

Uravity's merchandise was special, mostly galaxy-themed, always full of planets, stars and the signature pink of the pro hero. They were cute and well, you liked cute things.

“Miya”, as your account was known, was one more escape from all the tiring routine you established after graduating. Her job was demanding and living alone was… lonely. Creating an account on a social network to share about your passion for heroes and everyday silliness was just an idea, but it ended up flowing and you enjoyed interacting with the audience 一 even if it was very small.

But well, you didn't want it to be big. You liked to give your unfiltered opinions and a large audience meant a lot of people would come to comment negative things, and negatively enough your job and your boss, you don't need that shit anymore.

After posting the photo, you started scrolling through the feed, reading a few news stories. One of them caught your eye. A company was suing Pro Hero Dynamighty for moral damages after he shouted… inappropriate things at a journalist in a live interview. You frowned, seeing the comments criticizing #2, and decided to go watch the original video before commenting anything.

Shit.

But what daughter of a…

Of course he would curse her! How dare she?!

You didn't even give much thought to your actions as you wrote a huge piece and published it furiously. Well, it was those impulsive decisions you were always grateful for not being well known for.

一 Argh! It almost ruined my appetite. No more cell phones for today, seriously. 一 You grumbled, hanging up the phone and placing it on the dresser next to the bed, before taking out Uravity's set and putting it away. 一 What do I order for dinner?

一 o0o 一

一 Dude! This is so manly! Hey Bakubro, you have to read this!

Katsuki's look was enough for Eijiro to know that if he handed over his cell phone, the blonde would blow it up in his face.

The backlash from the interview case had completely ruined Katsuki's mood. To make matters worse, the Agency decided to remove him from his activities while the matter was resolved, putting him in a damn office. Kirishima didn't blame his friend. He often commented that Bakugou could be a little more gentle in interviews, even though the blonde hates participating in them. But this time, he understood.

Mentioning the war against All For One was practically a Taboo when interviewing any of the heroes who participated in it. But that woman was insisting, even too much. No wonder Bakugou exploded with her. But unfortunately, all people were seeing was that Dynamighty was rude, boorish, and a pro hero who yelled at "innocent women" on TV.

The public was driven by the media and the media hated Katsuki. He was always rivaled with #1, Deku, and tried to make him the opposite of the One for All user. A ridiculous thing, since both were friends, but unfortunately, many people believed.

一 Eiji! I saw what you sent me! 一 Ashido burst into the office, with an excited smile 一 Finally someone with common sense! I could kiss this girl when I see her.

一 What the hell are you talking about now, Raccoon Eyes? Better get the Shit Hair and get the hell out of here!

一 Blasty, you need to read this 一 Ashido didn't have the same sense of survival as Eijirou, but to his credit, his phone didn't get blown up 一 A hero fan profile commented on his interview! And it's supporting you, Bakubaby! Also, a lot of people have shared it and now it looks like we can finally get this damn company back.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow.

一 Send me this. And get out of my office.

一 Right, right 一 Mina nodded with a smile, fiddling with her phone and then pulling a reluctant Kirishima out of the room 一 See you later, Blasty!

With the door closed, Bakugou was finally able to enjoy the silence. The last week had been hell. He wanted to blow up that damn company for screwing him over like that. Everything was so tiring in the hero's life and he still has to deal with idiotic people who try to gain profit and fame off of him.

A notification on his phone wakes him up, and on the screen, he sees a message from Ashido:

"Se você não visualizar logo, eu estarei de volta lá!"

一 Tch, that idiot.

Bakugou unlocked the phone and opened the message. There was a link and he clicked on it and was taken to his profile.

一 Rain Cookies. What a shitty name.

He looked at the profile picture. You're cute, he had to admit. The curly hair framing the round face, the wide smile and closed eyes. He swallowed the next statement, though. He wasn't thinking you were cute, shit.

“Eu estava assistindo ao vídeo da entrevista original com Dynamighty e uau! Eu queria dizer sinceramente que ele tem todo o meu apoio. Quer dizer, garota? Você nem deveria estar neste trabalho de merda. Pessoas como você deveriam estar em uma grande lixeira, isso mesmo. Qualquer um tem acesso aos vídeos de guerra All for One, caramba. Se você quer saber mais sobre isso, procure, seu idiota. Ainda não acredito que você fez uma pergunta tão estúpida como "Qual foi o seu sentimento ao acordar e saber que um herói deu a vida para salvá-lo?" ou “Como foi morrer enquanto lutava contra o maior vilão que a Era das Peculiaridades já enfrentou?”

“EI SEU ESTÚPIDO! DEIXE-ME LEMBRAR QUE ERAM APENAS CRIANÇAS! Dynamighty tinha apenas dezesseis anos quando toda essa merda aconteceu. E você quer saber qual foi o sentimento dele? Não consigo entender que tipo de pessoa pergunta sobre o sofrimento alheio só para ganhar um pouco de fama. Vou gravar a cara dele porque se eu te ver na rua eu mesmo te dou um soco. Isso vale para qualquer jornalista ou pessoa que se atreva a perguntar ou lembrar da guerra para algum dos heróis, você é um lixo, fedorento e mimado. Não humano. Eles já sofreram o suficiente e certamente carregarão cicatrizes eternas em seus corações e corpos por causa do que o All for One fez. Eles não precisam de ninguém para lembrá-los do que aconteceu."

“Incluindo sobre Dynamighty. Vocês podem reclamar da personalidade dele mas nunca tentaram entender né? Apesar de sua grosseria, ele nunca foi desrespeitoso com ninguém mais velho. Você não o verá xingando em suas entrevistas ou programas infantis, ou gritando com pessoas aleatórias. Se você quer algo macio e fofo, ótimo, concentre-se em pessoas fofas e fofas. Não tente impor aos outros a imagem que você acha ideal. Dynamighty é um incrível herói profissional que salvou inúmeras vidas e derrotou mais vilões do que qualquer outro herói. Não serão vocês, seus merdas, que irão derrotá-lo. Lutou muito para chegar até aqui. Pare de ficar no caminho dele."

Oh shit.

Bakugou didn't even realize he was holding his breath as he read the huge text the girl posted. The air left slowly when he finished reading, still processing everything. Someone understood. Someone who didn't even know him personally, who wasn't part of his friends or family, was fiercely defending him on a random social network. For the first time that week, he felt his mood improve considerably.

Looking at the likes and comments, Bakugou saw that many people were sharing. He grunted when he saw that his parent company's official profile had shared it as well. It had definitely been Mitsuki, because along with the share, there was a comment: “If I see this motherfucker on the street, I'll punch her too. Thank you for looking beyond what the damn media is saying @raincookies”

He had to remind his mother that the company profile should not be confused with her personal profile. But a slight smile sprouted on his lips as he reread the comment from the blonde who was identical to him.

Clicking on his profile again, Bakugou didn't even realize what he was doing before he actually realized what he was doing. In the private chat, not caring if it was his official account, he left a message, small and simple, but that really expressed what he was feeling at that moment.

"Thank you."

[wytfut]

Aluminum siding....

I think as a kid who grew up in the 60's, we remember the hard core salesmen that bang on your door... vacuum cleaners, spices, aluminum siding, brushes. .... all humorous in a way today. There has even been movies made about this type of life.

My Pop... way back in the 60's bit the bullet and bought aluminum siding. The guy sold him the goods, and he bit hook line and sinker. The company had their contractor put it up..... Pop wanted his crushed rock roof strauss built home, to be pink for eternity. And so it was....

It was shortly after... maybe a year or 2 later, we had a historic Nebraski hail storm. And just beat the shit out of the siding. I'd say that this aluminum siding was much softer than todays products...

Anything exposed under the eaves of the house on the west and south side took the beating.

Pop about cried and tried to make a claim on his damaged siding, and of course his insurance company didn't recognize aluminum siding as a standard house siding. .... nada... nothing.

The siding remained on for I'd say at least a couple of decades, all dinged up. Finally in the late 90's Mom and Pop were financially comfortable, Pop had the dinged siding removed and covererd with red brick as a wainscoting about 6' up on all sides of the house. I wont critique the color combination, but Mom and Pop were happy. The aluminum siding higher up remained, and looked good until the house was sold.

Now I bring this humorous story up, as that most likely wasn't Pop's only upside down event in his life. And as I grew up there, I know I have picked up this behavior up.... and have applied it many times thru the years.

Examples:

I just had to have a diesel car. After the 70's embargo, it only made sense to me. So I left my brand (Ford at that time didn't quite yet have a diesel model), and ordered a brand new buick diesel.

Probably the prettiest car I have ever owned to this day. Within 6000 miles, the motor blew up. And we were without a car for close to 3 months.

Within a couple of years, the transmission went. Basically I ordered from Detroit the grand GM double joke.

Sounds innocent enough.... but if a person were to stand back and take a good look at this story or the many others, including my Pop's.... he and I get an idea in our heads, and the blinders come on. No changing of the minds here mind you. And admittedly, it is a weakness or a curse.

Not that we both would fall for salesmen....no no.... but the fact that once we get an idea, we just can't let it go.

Pop I'm sure was told by all his chronie State Troopers...."don't do it!!" ...Just I was told by many folks not to buy a GM diesel.

Here's my latest blinders mistake.

A few years ago, I was using a product called "ride on" on my motorcycle tires. It claimed to reduce flat tires substantially, and would also balance your tires. It was a gooie substance, and for all the years I had used it, I was very happy with it.

I found another company selling a "tire sealer" years ago, a friend used on his farm truck. He had tires with multiple nails in all of his tires with no flats to report.

Thru the years, I had heard that tire repair shops hated these products. Some of the earlier products were impossible to remove. Which made fixing a simple flat tire impossible.

Come up to date now.... to about 4 weeks ago.

My hunny said we were not going to drive to colorado on the tires on her car... especially the one with a double plug (being a tightwad, I fix our own tires, right or wrong, I do). Ok. So I rounded up some very nice almost new tires on facebook market place. Got them for a song.... extremely cheap.

My thoughts.... put berryman's tire sealer in them. Josh, Luke, and myself mounted each..... life was good.

I was still under the impression, that berrymans tire sealer would also balance these tires. As that was "Ride On" claim.

We got about 250 miles into the trip, and holy shit... the tires took off. Shaking the Patti's car like no tomorrow. Many miles of trying to figure out how to avoid the shaking... I determined that if I stayed under 70, it wasn't too bad or very often. It'd still do it a bit here and there.... but no way over 70.

Made it to our destination. And as the week went on I contacted several tire shops. One said he'd try to balance them.... and he couldn't. Another in Estes, said yup he'd fix the issue, but it would cost.

Being a tourist in Estes.... I was guessing $400+. I cringed, Patti said do it....

The tire shop fixed all 4 tires (cleaned the goo out and balanced)..... $160, plus 2 days.

We were ecstatic. No way .... he could of taken huge advantage to our situation, but he didn't. God bless this man.

When I went to pick up the car.... this very same guy was in the parking lot helping a much older gentleman clean fresh asphalt off of his tires. The guy drove thru fresh asphalt (no barricades).... And his tires looked like huge donuts. I talked to the old guy. He was amazed that the guy was helping him, at no charge. Attacking the tires with pry bars....

Back to the point. Folks that know me.... know I do this. My boys, friends, etc. I get the blinders on, and it is the goal to achieve, hell or high water, it'll be done. They all just roll their eyes, and shake their heads

You'd think after years of this nonsense, I'd learn, or someone would just shake the shit out of me, to get my attention.

My next odd ball mission is to drop some ajax/comet down the carburetor of our 36 ford. lolololol I've already heard murmurings from some folks not directly. ...

[stellacadente]

so like having memory issues sucks sooo bad

i lost 2 umbrellas in like. 2 or 3 weeks maybe a month (you guessed it i can't really remember. passage of time is so hard) bc it rains, i use this neat little umbrella.... put it down at the bus stop just for a second so i can get something from my backpack and completely forget i ever had it and hop on the bus without my neat little umbrella! fuck! my mum bought me this one (i didn't lose the previous one tbf.. it broke)! so then a couple of weeks later, still without an umbrella bc yeah, i keep forgetting to buy a new one, i have to be out all day, and it's raining hard and will all day, so my mum offers to give me her umbrella. she doesn't really need to walk or anything today anyway. i'll give it back later. yeah right. except i enter the place where i have to take my driving license quiz, i put down my umbrella, right there at the entrance, and when i walk out later it's not raining and i have completely forgotten i ever had an umbrella with me. my mum's umbrella. which i leave there. bye bye to another umbrella. i tell my mum a few hours after i realize... i was scared she'd get mad. she gets mad. how can you forget this stuff all the time. just think about these things a little more. just pay more attention. ah. right. as if that's easy. i tell her! it's not easy! i feel awful about this, i feel awful every time! i'm frustrated. i want her to understand i don't do this bc i don't care about my or other people's things or don't pay attention to them. i tell her look, every time i get to work i go upstairs to refill my water bottle. then i get coffee and/or chat with coworkers. i put my water bottle down, i need my hands to get coffee. and every time. every. time. i go downstairs and realize i left my water upstairs. i curse myself, i groan, i tell myself come one nico, you must remember later/tomorrow. i almost never do. my mum sighs and laughs awkwardly. yeah, mum, i know, i'm not even 30 and my memory's already fucked. i must have some problem, i say. it's only half a joke. i know i do. she half-jokes too, oh that's for sure, haha. i just don't know which one the many problems i do in fact have are to blame for this. is it the abuse and trauma? the bpd that was the result of it? the many meds i've taken for the bpd and all the rest? the times i've abused those meds? all of those, something else? i don't know. i just know it's hard to feel like everything, from memories to objects to knowledge, is a second away from being lost to me. always. few things feel like they last. and as a person who's obsessed with forever, as a person who loves to learn and know and watch and read and listen, as a person who cares even too deeply sometimes... i feel like i lost myself every day. if myself even exists. what am i when i don't remember most of my life? when i've forgotten almost everything about people who mean the world to me, bc they've been gone for so long? i forget birthdays, i forget ages, i forget umbrellas, i forget unloading the washing machine, i forget i already told you this, i forget smiles, i forget movies, i forget things i studied, i forget i had to call, i forget i needed to add something to the guidebook, i forget if i already took my med or not, i forget my favorite concert, i forget my favorite book, i forget. i forget again.

yesterday i went on a rant on the discord server i'm in with my friends, even if i knew it wasn't likely anyone would see it, bc the server's not very active now and that channel especially, no one looks at it. but i was so so scared i'd forget what happened the other day and even worse would start doubting whether it all happened for real or i made up half of it to make up for voids in my memory. that happens often with stuff like that. the therapist i had my first appointment with was very weird about me being trans and i kept thinking about it and feeling bad and the more i think something over, something i'm upset about, the more i get scared that i'm not recalling things right. so i had to write it all down somewhere other people could, even just potentially, see, and i could look back on. i mean yeah, i also did need to talk about it, so it would've been nice if someone read and replied too, but it's okay, i just at least needed to put it down in words as soon as possible.

i guess i'm just scared it'll get worse and worse the more i age and it's already pretty bad now and yeah