#see if i’m still feeling that way later on

[jjunieworld]

EASY ACCESS ˒˒ 이희승

after a whole year together, heeseung suddenly breaks up with you, to your surprise. mere days later, you see him at a party with another girl. you decide to do the only thing you could think of—get back at him. except… it doesn’t go quite to plan.

pairing ⸝⸝ lee heeseung 𝑥 fem!reader feat. ꔛ 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥!𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦

genre ⋆ 📄 ⸝⸝ exes to ???, smut with a tiny bit of plot, some angst because i can’t control myself i’m sorry

warnings ⸝⸝ unprotected sex, hard dom!heeseung, jealousy, possessiveness, mirror sex, bathroom sex, very very messy and rough sex (he loves it messy), multiple orgasms, ruined makeup, fingering, clit stimulation, slight dacryphilia, hands on neck (not quite choking), overstimulation, creampie, hair pulling (f. rec), backshots, brief blowjob / deepthroating, manhandling, dirty talk

kipo’s note ⸝⸝ once again pushing the wc for my drabbles lmao.. haven’t wrote exes getting together again in such a long time, so here you all go, served up to you on a silver platter!! sorry for all the rough sex lately, i’m such a hard/mean dom girlie… hehe enjoy!! ^^

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 2.8k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ���͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

you didn’t even need to feel his burning gaze following your every move to know that his eyes were on you—and only you. it was what you had hoped for, and everything was going to plan.

to be honest, you weren’t listening to a word that jake was saying. you were too busy looking at heeseung from your peripheral vision, seeing the anger build up in him brick by brick until you practically saw steam coming out of his ears.

you subtly watched as he glared at jake, glared at how close you were to him, and glared at how you smiled at whatever he was saying. you felt as his eyes trailed your body and the dress that you were wearing that was so short that your ass was almost hanging out and that barely covered your tits.

you were laying it on thick, but you didn’t think either boy knew it. jake told you a joke you didn’t care to listen to and you laughed flirtatiously, laying your hand on his bicep as you leaned into him. “you’re so funny,” you smiled, batting your eyelashes at him.

bullseye. you saw heeseung down his drink and push away from the wall he was leaning on, completely abandoning the girl he had brought with him to the party just mere days after the two of you had broken up. a whole year together completely forgotten, just like that.

well, two can play at that game.

you pretended not to notice him coming up to you. you acted shocked at the way his arm possessively wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him. inside, you were laughing at how heeseung had barely contained the anger radiating off of him. “i think she’s had too much to drink,” was all he said, looking—or more like glaring—at jake instead of you. you didn’t even get to protest since heeseung was already dragging you away.

he pulled you into a less crowded hallway and you pushed him off of you. “you don’t get to do that—not anymore,” you exclaimed. you haven’t even had anything to drink tonight. there wasn’t even a cup in your hand.

heeseung didn’t get to act like the jealous boyfriend when he was the one who broke up with you. you just wanted him to get a taste of his own medicine. see how much he likes it when you’re all up on a guy days after your breakup.

“i can do whatever i want,” heeseung said matter-of-factly. he dragged you into the nearby bathroom and slammed the door behind you, locking it. “because whether you like it or not, you’re still mine.”

his words went straight to your core and you leaned backwards against the cold marble of the sink, trying to subtly press your thighs together. heeseung’s eyes trailed your body again—focusing particularly on the way the dress you wore adhered to your body—like a hunter watching its prey.

heeseung’s eyes snapped abruptly to yours and you watched the corner of his mouth curve into a smirk. “besides,” he said, stepping towards you and caging you against the sink with his body, “i don’t remember you telling me to stop.”

his finger hooked under the thin strap of your dress and slowly started to pull it down your shoulder. he leaned down and his breath fanned against your jaw.  “just like you aren’t stopping me now,” he continued. “this is what you really wanted, wasn’t it? were you that desperate for my touch after i dumped you that you resorted to making me jealous? you know i don’t play nice.”

you inhaled sharply, words caught in your throat. instead, you pushed him away from you again and heeseung stumbled backwards a few steps with a laugh. “you forget that i know you like the back of my hand,” he said.

glaring at him, you crossed your arms over your chest and the action only made your tits spill out of your dress more. “you don’t know anything!” you spewed.

in one swift motion you were pulled towards him and spun around so your ass was pressed against the bulge in his pants. heeseung held you flush against him, his lips at the shell of your ear. you let out a small whimper and he chuckled. “i know that all this was purposeful,” heeseung started. “like this dress you wore… you’re practically begging me to fuck you.”

his hand slid down to your lower stomach, pressing down onto it so you felt just how hard he was through the material of your dress. you breathed heavily as you fought the thoughts of his hand sliding down farther, of him touching you where you really needed him. you were dripping at the idea and your pussy throbbed.

“i bet if i move my hand down further…” his hand trailed downwards, just barely hovering at the bottom of your dress, “…we could both see how wet you really are. so needy… are you even wearing anything underneath?”

instead of checking for himself, he trailed his hand back up your body and cupped your tit. you swallowed the whine that tried to escape your mouth and heeseung’s rich laugh filled your ears. “i know that you know i don’t like being jealous,” he spoke as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

your eyes met his through the mirror in front of you and you looked at how pathetic you looked. your chest rose and fell heavily and if weren’t for the way the two of you were standing your thighs would be squeezed together too. heeseung was barely doing anything to you and you were already falling apart. you didn’t even have to say anything for him to know that he was right.

with one hand, heeseung took hold of your chin so your gaze stayed focused on the two of you in the mirror. he made you watch as he trailed his hand down your stomach, his touch lighting up your body and making you breathe harder. he leaned towards the shell of your ear, a smirk on his lips. in a low voice, he said, “you know i don’t like people playing with what’s mine.”

heeseung grabbed the bottom hem of your dress and yanked it up to reveal the tiny thong you wore underneath. he then yanked down the straps of the dress so your tits sprang free of it. finally, his hand cupped your heat, the tips of his fingers grazing along your clothed clit and making you jerk as he pressed his hard-on further into your ass.

he hummed as he lightly rubbed his fingers against the soaked fabric, his eyes still on yours. “what was that about me not knowing anything?” he asked smugly as his free hand squeezed one of your tits.

you couldn’t help the way your hips grinded against his hand and your eyes fluttered closed at the sudden pleasure. “what did you expect me to do?” you asked. your words lacked the punch you intended them to have and instead came out breathless and a bit defeated. “a whole year together and then you leave out of nowhere. now i see you all over some girl days after you left me like i didn’t matter to you. who does that?”

heeseung’s pulled his hand away so he could instead slip it under the thong you were wearing, his fingers spreading your arousal through your folds. you gasped softly, your back arching and your ass pressing more into him. “why lead me on for that long if you didn’t want me?” you continued through a small moan.

“when did i say i didn’t want you?” heeseung retorted. “that you didn’t matter to me?” slowly, he pushed his fingers into you and you moaned louder, grateful that the loud music on the other side of the door drowned it out.

your eyes fluttered open, your mind barely able to form a coherent thought as he started to finger you. you watched as his hand moved underneath your thong and barely covered his actions. you met his gaze through the mirror once more. it was embarrassing that you were so wet that you could hear the sounds his fingers made as he sped up his pace over the muffled music. the loud moans that left your mouth were even more embarrassing.

“why leave then?” you managed to ask him.

“i like the hunt,” heeseung said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. his long fingers reached deeper into you and pressed against your sweet spot, making you gasp loudly. your wetness dripped down your thighs and your moans got louder as you tried to move away from him. heeseung’s hand moved to just below your neck as he kept you against him—a warning.

all you could manage was shallow breaths as his fingers rammed into you. you stood up on your tip-toes as your knees began to wobble. you were so close to the edge that you mind was clouded and you could barely remember the words he said, only the hurt that followed after. that was, until heeseung spoke again, his eyes boring into yours. “and you were starting to bore me.”

tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, both from pain and pleasure. you came undone on his fingers, covering them in a creamy white that left lewd sounds in its wake as heeseung’s hand continued to move. you brows knitted together as the tears fell down your cheeks. “b-bullshit,” you moaned out.

heeseung might’ve known you like the back of his hand but you knew him like the back of yours. he was lying. if he meant what he said then he wouldn’t be in this bathroom with you, his hand covered in your release and his fingers inside of you knowing exactly what to do. he wouldn’t even let his jealousy get to him—or even be jealous at all.

“you're lying.”

heeseung pulled his fingers out of you and pushed you against the sink. he moved the two of you closer to the mirror so that you were almost face to face in a way. saying nothing, he stared intently into your eyes through your reflection before leaning down and turning your chin so you faced him.

now that you were actually face to face, your breath hitched in your throat. his lips hovered just over yours, barely an inch apart. “i didn’t know how to express how i felt…” heeseung said, “so i didn’t say anything at all. i left.”

he closed the distance between the two of you in a rough and sloppy kiss. distantly, you heard the zipper of his pants and the sound of denim. he yanked the thong you were wearing to the side, just enough for him to have easy access to your already messy pussy.

you gripped tightly onto the marble counter of the sink as heeseung pushed his thick cock inside you, stretching you more than his fingers ever could. you moaned against his lips. you missed the feeling of him inside you, of how full you felt as his long cock went deeper and deeper. heeseung didn’t waste any more time as he roughly thrusted into you, pushing your body further into the sink and towards the mirror.

“and you already told me you loved me.” heeseung pulled his lips off of yours and grabbed your chin. he faced you towards the mirror, the two do you almost cheek to cheek as he made you watch him fuck into you roughly at a fast pace. you felt your previous release drip down your thighs and your tits bounced at the vigorous pace. heeseung looked at you through the mirror, “…you deserve better.”

heeseung moved away from you and grabbed your hips with his hands. you watched as his hips rutted into yours and skin loudly slapped against skin repeatedly. you could barely think, much less move with the way he was fucking you. it was as if all of that anger and jealousy from earlier flooded through him, only this time more towards himself, and he was taking it all out on your needy and waiting pussy.

you were a moaning mess, mouth agape and drool almost spilling from the corners as heeseung fucked you stupid. you fought to process his words, realizing too late that he was telling you all of this with his cock inside you to distract you.

he was hoping that if he left you ruined enough that you wouldn’t think twice about his words, that you would instead focus on your trembling legs and white knuckles as your hands cramped from how hard you gripped the edge of the marble counter. it almost worked in his favor.

“i w-want you,” you stated, head lolling to the side before falling down to the counter completely. “f-fuck!” you whimpered, your voice muffled. you were so close to cumming again and you didn’t know how much more you could take.

“look at me,” you heard heeseung say and when you didn’t immediately obey he roughly pulled your head up by your hair and then towards him so your back was against his chest. you whined in protest that was quickly smothered by another one of your moans as his fingers suddenly dipped down to circle your clit.

heeseung was breathing heavily and he grunted at the way you were clenching down around him. shallow moans left your lips as he thrusted into you and it wasn’t long before you were cumming again. it dripped down your thighs and left you a sticky mess. more of your release dripped down heeseung’s cock and left a white ring at the base. if it weren’t for heeseung pressing you against him you would’ve fell to the tile below.

“can’t t-take anymore!” you cried with furrowed brows as you met his gaze in the mirror. the bathroom was filled with the sounds of your skin slapped against his and the wet sounds of your messy cunt. “t-too much!”

your body shook and heeseung just shushed you. “the things i touch, i ruin.” he placed a soft kiss onto your jaw, completely contrasting his other movements. “just look at you,” he stated.

he released his hold on you and you tumbled back down to the counter. heeseung groaned as he gave you a particularly harsh thrust. tears streamed down your face from the overstimulation, ruining the makeup you spent so long on, but a part of you also didn’t want him to stop any time soon.

his warm cum filled you up impossibly more, spilling out of you and mixing with your own cum down your thighs. you forgot how messy heeseung likes you to be once he’s finished with you. ruined, like he said.

heeseung stayed deep inside you and you managed to lift your head to look at him through the mirror. his hand wrapped lightly against your throat for a moment before sliding up your neck and lifting your head higher. he gave you an almost satisfied smile. “i love how messy you are when i’m done with you,” he said as he pulled out of you and his cum went rushing down your thighs. “and always so fucking needy for more too… like you can’t ever get enough no matter how much i give you.”

shifting away slightly, he leaned down and spread apart your asscheeks so he could get a better look at his work. “i-i like being ruined by you,” you sniffled as you breathed heavily, words coming out almost strained. “i like that no matter how undone i become, there’s still more threads you can pull. pull them.”

heeseung’s eyes flicked to yours. “it’s not worth it. you’ll only get hurt in the end.”

you turned towards him, “you won’t hurt me.” you wiped the tears and streaked mascara from your cheeks with the back of your hand. heeseung was closer than you thought he was as he leaned over you. he leaned back and pushed you down to your knees.

he looked down at you through hooded lids. “you deserve better,” he reiterated. you grabbed his hard cock and licked a stripe up it before sucking lightly at his mushroom tip. he moaned, his hands coming to rest at the back of your head.

“that’s what you think,” you replied. “doesn’t mean it’s true.”

heeseung sighed deeply. he then pushed your head fully down his length, causing you to gag around him. you looked up at him with teary eyes and spit spilling from the corner of your mouth. “you talk too fucking much,” heeseung said.

you then smiled, fisting his cock and watching as his eyes fluttered shut. “then make me shut up,” you responded. an amused smile lifted heeseung’s lips and his eyes opened to look at you.

he gave you no time to say anything else before his cock was down your throat again. heeseung grabbed a fistful of your hair. “suck,” he demanded instead, and you obeyed.

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

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[willowsnook]

Concerned (LN)

lando norris x neighbor!reader

Another late night working and you were exhausted. You’d been on PTO the week before, so now you were playing catch-up and drowning. Trudging back to you apartment, you rounded the corner and ran right into someone else.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” your neighbor said at the same time you started to apologize. You had met him a couple of times, but he was gone a lot, so it was a pretty standard friendly neighbor relationship.

“You look horrible.” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, and a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His face was haggard, dark circles under his eyes and a weary expression that spoke of sleepless nights. The lines on his forehead deepened as he tried to hide his fatigue, but you couldn't help but notice how drained he looked.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping,” he admitted, and you tilted your head, looking for more, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Okay, come on,” you said, heading towards your apartment. With a moment's hesitation, he followed behind you into your apartment. The first thing that caught his eye was the unique decor - the walls adorned with scattered pieces of art, each telling its own story. The colors and textures clashed and complemented each other in a chaotic symphony, creating an atmosphere that felt both whimsical and intimate. He couldn't help but feel drawn in, wanting to explore every inch of this quirky space that was a reflection of you.

You sat him down on a barstool in the kitchen before opening a cabinet filled with various powders and ingredients. He watched as you contemplated a bit before picking a couple down and placing them on the counter. Filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, you turned back to him and tried to figure him out.

“You have a lot of ingredients for tea,” he said, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah, I read this book earlier this year about a woman who owned a tea shop and then became fixated on making perfect tea,” you said and he smiled. He felt himself starting to relax around you, appreciative that you hadn’t pushed on why he looked so tired even though he knew you probably had a good idea.

The comfortable silence lasted a couple of more minutes before being interrupted by the high scream of the kettle, and you carefully poured it into a cup that would turn it into your favorite tea invention.

“Let it cool for a couple of minutes,” you told him, and he nodded, picked it up, and moved to the couch. You unpacked your bag from work, looking up occasionally to see him sipping and staring out of your grand windows. Deciding he was probably fine by himself, you went to take a shower and change into your pajamas.

As you emerged from the bedroom 20 minutes later, you spotted the familiar mug sitting on the coffee table, and him sprawled out, fast asleep on the couch. A small smile tugged at your lips as you quietly made your way over to him, careful not to wake him. The soft light filtering through the window cast a gentle glow on his sleeping face. You reached for a nearby blanket and draped it over his body, making sure he was warm and comfortable before retreating back to your room.

The next morning you slept in a little later before coming back out into the kitchen. Lando was still snoring softly on the couch and you kept quiet as you made coffee and pulled out eggs for breakfast. You heard him stir and looked over your shoulder to see him sitting up, yawning. He slipped off the couch and made his way towards you.

“I owe you one,” he said and you waved him off. “You are my favorite neighbor.”

“What an honor,” you joked and he smiled.

“What can I do to repay you?”

You stood thinking for a second before smirking, “Well I’d love it if you could get me Carlos’ autograph; he’s my favorite driver.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together disapprovingly, causing deep lines to form on his forehead. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his reaction before turning back to the skillet of sizzling eggs.

“I’m going to head out now, but again, thank you for last night. I really needed it,” he said, and you turned, surprising him as you hugged him. His embrace was tight but not suffocating, and his arms felt strong and sturdy around you. When he pulled back, you could feel the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body slumped slightly.

“You need to take care of yourself,” you said.

“It’s hard,” he replied and you pulled back to see his sad eyes looking back at you. Giving him one last smile, he left you to make breakfast, retreating back to his own place.

———————————————————————

The rest of your weekend went by quickly and you enjoyed the relaxation of not having to think about work. Sunday afternoon, you were deep cleaning your apartment, casually paying attention to the football games you had in the background. After scrubbing your kitchen, you took a break, pulling out your phone and scrolling through Twitter.

Now, you weren’t a big F1 fan; you just tuned in every once in a while mainly because you thought it was cool that you knew a driver, but you’d see tweets on your timeline every once in a while. One caught your attention, and you opened the thread to see some account commenting on a recent stream that Lando had been on with his friends. You watched the video of his friends making fun of him for eating expired food and giggled as they ragged on him.

Thinking back to the other night, you started to actually be concerned about him eating expired food. First of all, it was gross as fuck. Secondly, it could easily make him sick. Having an idea, you grabbed your keys before heading off to the grocery store.

A couple of hours later you were outside Lando’s door, having just knocked on it. He was surprised to see you standing there when he swung open the door.

“I have something for you,” you said, and his eyes flickered down to the bag in your hand before letting you in. Setting it down on the counter, you began pulling out all the Tupperware filled with several different things.

“This should last you until you have to leave again to race,” you said nonchalantly, turning to look at you. He looked at you wide-eyed, taking in what you did for him.

“You made me food?” He asked slowly and you nodded.

“I heard that you were eating expired food, which is disgusting,” you said, and a small smile crossed his face. “That could also kill you, and it would be really irritating to have a bunch of police and noise here to deal with it.”

“Mmmhmm,” he said smirking. “So you did it because you didn’t want to be inconvenienced if I poisoned myself?”

“Exactly,” you told him. “If you were my favorite driver, I would say I was doing it because I care about you and want to make sure you are okay.”

“But I’m not your favorite,” he said and you nodded. “Correct.”

He smiled to himself as you bid him goodbye before heading back.

Later that night he hopped on to stream with Max who instantly asked him what he had for dinner.

“A burrito bowl,” he replied and Max perked up.

“Did you order it?” He asked and Lando shook his head.

“No, my neighbor heard that I was eating expired food so she made me a bunch of meal prepped things to last a couple of weeks.”

“Was it your hot neighbor?” Max asked with a smirk and Lando blushed.

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Just so everyone in the chat knows, Lando has been simping over one of his neighbors for almost a year now, and instead of just talking to her like a normal person, he just stalks her on social media and turns into a lovesick school boy anytime he sees her.”

“That’s not true,” he complained and Max laughed.

"Remember when you saw her at the little coffee shop by your place? She chatted with you for what, five minutes? You couldn't stop talking about it for weeks," he teased, savoring the memory of his friend's flustered excitement.

“Shut up mate,” Lando muttered with a slight grin. Little did he know that you had been tuned into the stream, listening to all of this.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WE WERE BORN SICK

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: that sinking feeling that's been looming over you both has finally come to fruition. truths are revealed, questions are answered, but one big one remains: is love enough for you and dazai's relationship to survive this?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: happy fridayyyyy, i can't believe we only have one chapter left of civzai, it's actually makin me emotional </3 this chapter was quite a doozy to write, and i hope it's equally a doozy to read HAHAH no no jkjk , i hope you enjoy. also do u guys want to add an arcane au to the dazaiverse .. ive been thinking heavily about it. comments & reblogs appreciated

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited. angsty chapter. explicit depiction of suicide (past recollection of dazai), implications of past self-harm (dazai), very toxic thought processes at certain parts (dazai), past (and a bit of current) suicide ideation (dazai), manic behavior (reader).

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

“I’ve been eager to meet you for quite a while. In all of the years I’ve known her, my little hime has never let something as trivial as a boy come between her and our work… I knew you must be special, but I never could’ve imagined just how special. I’m so pleasantly surprised.”

Dazai’s head throbs as he comes to his surroundings. He’s laying in an uncomfortable bed—a hospital bed, he thinks, he can smell the unfortunately familiar scent of antiseptic, but the walls aren’t the typical white he’s used to. He winces as he sits up, unable to recall where he is or what happened to him. Everything is too fuzzy, he remembers being with Fitzgerald, the car ride to the tea house, and-

And he remembers you. 

He remembers you.

He lets out a shaky breath as he recalls the way you’d pulled him into your arms, cradling him close as soon as you got him back from Fitzgerald. God, he only got to be with you for what felt like a second. It wasn’t enough time. It wasn’t nearly enough time. You sent him off, he remembers—you sent him with two of your subordinates, the weretiger and that freaky little girl, and then… 

“Shhh… Don’t speak. I want to get this done and over with.”

The gun to his back, Atsushi and Kyouka’s cries of shock, the baton to his head.

“No can do, weretiger. On orders from the boss.”

His mind tracks back to the words that had been spoken as he was teetering on the edge of consciousness, mouth going dry and eyes widening as he becomes acutely aware of the other person in the room with him. His gaze flicks up to where a vaguely familiar man sits at a desk watching him—straight chin-length black hair, inquisitive purple eyes, a long black coat, Dazai isn’t sure where he recalls this man from but he knows that they’ve met before. 

“Who…” Dazai asks, voice wavering as pain shoots through his head with every little movement. “Who are you? Have we… met before?”

His wrist hurts. His mother’s nails dig into his skin so deep that it draws blood, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’d just been sleeping—is he still sleeping? He isn’t sure. He’s stumbling over his own feet trying to keep up with her, he keeps asking her what’s going on but she doesn’t answer him. 

They turn a hall and his mother stops so suddenly that he slams right into her, nearly tripping over onto the ground. He doesn’t even regain his footing before his mother is pulling him back the way he came, he looks over his shoulder trying to figure out what caused his mother to panic so badly and he looks at—a man? 

Who is that? 

Why is he coming from grandfather’s room?

Is that-

Blood?

“Shuji! Shuji, don’t look back! Keep moving!”

Shuji? Who’s Shu-

“I think you know the answer to that already.” Dazai is startled out of the memory—was that a memory?—by the man’s voice. He sounds amused, and from the way that his eyes are glittering, Dazai can tell he’s finding great entertainment out of this situation. It pisses Dazai off. “Don’t you?”

“Tane-chan, you know you won’t be able to hide him forever. You’re just making this harder on yourself.”

Dazai’s breath catches. He shifts backward on the bed to press his back against the wall. Everything is wrong—the air is too cold, his bandages are itching, his head hurts, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. Who is Shuji? Why is he thinking of his mother after all of these years? And what… what was he remembering? 

Memories of his youth have always been sparse and fleeting—he can vaguely recall the faces of his siblings, the anxiety he felt around his grandfather, the loneliness—but something like this… The panic on his mothers face, the pain in his wrist, the way she was dragging him around, the fear in her voice when she screamed at Dazai—was he Shuji? But then why—to not look back, to keep moving. He would remember something like that. That would be… crazy to forget, right?

What is going on?

“You’re Mori,” Dazai breathes out, clearing his throat. He hopes he doesn’t look as disconcerted as he feels, but he thinks he must. “You’re…”

The leader of the Port Mafia. 

The closest thing you have to a father.

So, how does Dazai remember him from years ago? It doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen in that memory. What did he forget? When did he meet him? What’s going on? Dazai wants to scream, his mind is still slow from just waking up—he doesn’t even know how long he was unconscious, it couldn’t have been that long.

Mori’s smile widens as if Dazai just walked right into whatever trap that had been laid out for him, violet eyes flashing with a type of cruel amusement that makes Dazai sick to his stomach. Dazai has to circle back to remember what he just said, he needs to snap out of the daze he’s in. He needs to think. He made a mistake—Dazai made a mistake. He shouldn’t have admitted that he knew Mori. That was a mistake.

How does he fix it? 

Can he fix it?

“You do know,” Mori says, like he didn’t actually expect Dazai to admit that he knew him. Like he’s pleasantly surprised. Again. Like Dazai just made things much easier for him. Shit. “Interesting.”

He’s going to use it against Dazai. Dazai knows it. He’s going to use it against him to hurt you. He remembers everything he’s learned about your relationship with Mori—how he pit you against that other girl, Yosano, to get results from you. And he already said it. He already said that Dazai is getting between you and your work, he’ll do the same thing here. He’ll pit you against him.

He’s going to tell you that Dazai knew who Mori was, and that Dazai is someone that he’s not—who is Shuji? Why doesn’t he remember his own name? Is that really his name? How does Mori know all of this? Who is Dazai?—and Dazai needs to be able to say something. He needs to be able to explain. How does he explain this when he doesn’t even know what’s going on? Dazai needs to remember; he needs to remember now, he needed to remember yesterday, because if he’s not the one to tell you this… If he can’t explain this…

This cannot be happening—it can’t. Right when he thought everything would be okay, when he would be with you. His throat starts to clog as anxiety clouds his head and weighs on his chest, a panic attack that he can’t afford right now. He needs to think, he needs to figure out what’s going on—Mori knows something about Dazai that he doesn’t know himself, and he’s going to use it against him to drive a wedge between the two of you. He’s going to tell you, and-

Dazai’s world feels woozy. Why can’t he remember? How does he know Mori? What was happening that night with his mother? He needs to snap out of this, needs to think, but he can’t even breathe. Fear—the mind killer.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Dazai rasps, his voice is hoarse, and he feels sick, and he hates admitting that he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he needs Mori to believe it so that he doesn’t tell you something that’s not true. “I don’t know how I know you. I don’t-”

“You might believe that,” Mori says amused, “but will she?”

Dazai stares at Mori, his stomach churns violently and his vision swims as the answer becomes abundantly clear to him.

He doesn’t know. 

———

The gun in your hand weighs heavily.

You hid it in the inside of your blazer to get up to the conference room. No weapons are allowed up past the thirty-fifth floor unless you’re one of the Boss’s hand-picked personal guards—even executives are forced to disarm themselves before going up, but security is much more lax for the upper echelon. Because you’re you—the hime, second-in-command, the Boss’s daughter—the guards outside of the elevator that goes directly to the top floor wave you past the metal detectors to go on up.

A mistake.

(Who is Tsushima Shuji? It can’t be Dazai. You know Dazai. Mori must be wrong.)

The smile on your face is bland and doesn’t meet your eyes as you walk down the hall to the conference room attached to Mori’s office. You greet the guards, and they don’t notice how off your demeanor is, too starstruck over the fact that they’re being acknowledged for once. They also don’t notice the way your hand is curled around the grip of your gun in your blazer.

A mistake. 

(Mori is never wrong. Do you really know Dazai?)

When you reach the end of the hallway, you toss them one last brilliant smile. This one is a bit more genuine because you’ve realized that you’ve gotten through the top notch security of the upper levels of the Port Mafia headquarters without a hitch. That you’re one step closer to finishing this. They’re so blinded by the beauty of your smile that they don’t realize your teeth have sharpened into knives and the floral perfume you wear masks a putrid bloodlust. 

A mistake. 

(It’s always been odd, hasn’t it? The way he approached you. The way he was so insistent on pushing himself into your life. You always questioned it. There was a sinking feeling that something wasn’t as it seemed. Why didn’t you question it more?)

You keep your back turned as you slip into the room. You can feel four presences behind you—Kouyou, Piano Man, Chuuya, Ace. No Mori. No Dazai. That’s fine—you have something to take care of before they show up anyway. The conference room is soundproof; Mori designed it that way because he didn’t want the guards outside to overhear any discussion of sensitive topics. Even if he handpicked them for their loyalty, he understands that money can make the most devout man’s faith waver. Still, it’s not them rushing in that you’re worried about—it’s the people in the room with you rushing out, so you very carefully twist the nub of the lock and then reach up to fix the deadbolt. It won’t stop them, but it will slow them. You can feel their eyes on you as you make sure the door is locked, but none of them call you out for it or try to stop you.

A mistake. 

(Mori always told you that the Tsushimas were like cockroaches. If they all weren’t killed, one would eventually return to reclaim their grandfather’s empire. There’d be a power struggle between the factions loyal to the new regime and the ones that still hid in the shadows believing that the Tsushima blood belonged at the head of the organization. Everything the two of you had built would crumble to ashes.)

You turn to make your way over to the conference table where the four of them are sitting. You haven’t decided how you want to go about this yet. You don’t know who all was aware of what Mori did, and because of that, you don’t know who needs to die. Treachery has always faced a death penalty—you don’t care if Mori ordered it, you don’t care that the Boss’s word is absolute, you have bled and breathed for the Port Mafia. You’ve sacrificed everything you’ve ever owned and wanted for the Port Mafia. You have made the Port Mafia into what it is today with your efforts abroad and at home—foreign governments, foreign criminal organizations, the Japanese government and other domestic mafias, all of them are just puppets that you pull the strings of to ensure the Port Mafia stays on top. Treachery against you will face the same penalty one would receive if they betrayed the Port Mafia, because you are the Port Mafia—Mori has made sure of that. 

Chuuya and Piano Man share a look with one another as you approach the table. Neither of them say anything—is it confusion? Is it guilt? Did they know? Were you the only one unaware of the schemes going on around you? Were you the only one loyal? The only one you could trust?

Did they know?

Did they know?

(No one could ever love you without your ability at work influencing them. You’ve known that since the very beginning, but you were so quick to forget that when you discovered Dazai’s ability. You should have had more questions, you should have been more suspicious. Mori had been right from the very beginning. You were emotionally compromised. You were weak.)

Ace opens his mouth to speak.

A mistake. 

“It was nice meeting your-”

Ace’s head hits the conference table with a hard thunk, his eyes wide and glassy, his mouth open around the words you didn’t let him finish speaking. Blood seeps from the bullet hole in his temple and pools around his head and the ground beneath his chair, staining the glass table and the white floors. 

Instead of lowering your arm, you shift it so that the gun is pressed against Piano Man’s temple next. Chuuya says your name—it’s awful, something caught between a gasp of shock and confusion, he’s never said your name like that before. Like he doesn’t know what you’re doing. Like he doesn’t understand you. Like you’re something unfamiliar. Unrecognizable. You ignore him anyway, and the pangs that come along with it, and instead, you keep your gaze trained on Piano Man’s face.

He’s not as panicked as Chuuya, but you can tell that he’s just as caught off guard from the way his lips are twisted. He watches you carefully, waiting for you to say whatever you’re going to say—if you were going to pull the trigger, you would’ve done so immediately, he knows that. He’s always been good at reading you, better than even Chuuya sometimes.

“Did you know?”

Your voice is steadier than you expect it to be. Cold almost. Distant. You don’t recognize it yourself, you suppose it’s no wonder that Chuuya’s staring at you with such a foreign expression. You watch him just as carefully as he does you. He has a tell when he lies: he squints. Not an obvious squint, just the barest hint of his eyes squeezing shut like he’s calculating exactly what he wants to say, in what tone and with what fluctuation he wants to say it.

A subtle tell, but a tell nonetheless. 

“No.”

He stares at you steadily as he says it. There’s no squint—he’s telling the truth. You don’t let out a breath of relief, but you certainly feel the weight off of your shoulders. You lower the gun, satisfied with his response, and then you walk over to where Chuuya is sitting.

You don’t raise the gun to his temple immediately. He looks up at you, you look down at him, a whole conversation is had in the silence between you, and eventually he lowers his lashes in resignation, telling you to do what needs to be done for you to feel more at ease.

He’s always put others before himself. 

You lift the gun at the same time he lifts his gaze to meet yours. He could activate the Tainted Sorrow and end this before it starts, but he doesn’t—you know in your gut that if you pulled the trigger right now, he would accept the fate you delivered. Probably would take it as a better one than he deserved—it being at your hands rather than Arahabaki. 

“Did you know?” you ask. The words taste bitter, rancid—they don’t belong there, Chuuya would never betray you, but you had to hear it from him. 

Chuuya doesn’t have many tells when he lies—he’s a good actor, much better than people give him credit for. If he wanted to lie to you, he might be able to get away with it. But he won’t lie to you, not when he’s looking you in the eye. 

“No,” he says, voice soft and raspy like he can’t believe he has to say it.

You let the gun drop to your side. It weighs heavier now—heavier than it did in the elevator, heavier than it did in the hallway leading to the room, heavier than it did when it was pressed against Piano Man’s head. You can hardly bear to keep holding it, but you’re not done yet.

Slowly, your gaze turns to Kouyou. Her expression is cold and unreadable, gaze pinned on you in the same way a lion stalks its prey through the tall grass… No, that’s not right. She stares at you with the same look in her eyes that a snake does when it’s curled in a corner, rattle shaking and hissing to try to scare off the predator that has it trapped.

“You knew,” you breathe out softly in disbelief. Your voice hardens and tightens as you repeat, “You knew!”

Before you can raise your gun—before you can pull the trigger four, five, six times, before you can riddle her body with holes because how dare she know, how dare she know and not tell you after what the previous boss did to her—the door that separates the conference room from Mori’s office opens, and your attention is drawn to the one person who caused all of this.

“Oh my,” Mori says airly, looking between you, Ace’s body, and Kouyou with an expression that is frustratingly amused. “I see you’ve been busy.”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You almost want to laugh. You think you do laugh, actually—someone does, and you think it’s you, because you feel yourself walking away, you lift your hands to your head to tug at your ears in frustration. Your vision is blurry—are you crying?

“You betrayed me,” you finally say, voice quieter than you intend, so you raise it as you repeat yourself. “You betrayed me. You. Of all people I never thought you would be the one to-”

You can’t even finish the sentence, your voice cracks over the words. It makes you feel sick, it makes you angry, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because how could he? To you? You don’t know why you’re so angry, why you’re so betrayed. Mori has always made it clear that his priority is the Port Mafia, but still, to do this to you. To do this to his-

To his what?

You’re not his daughter. You hate when people imply that you are, you hate being called hime, you hate being called ‘Miss Mori’, you hate when people give you respect because of your perceived relationship to him. 

He’s the only father you’ve ever known. Almost every decision you’ve made has been with the motive of making him proud of you. When he seeks out your opinion specifically during meetings, your chest becomes warm with pride.

You don’t love him. How could you? Look at what you’ve become because of him. 

Then why do you feel so betrayed? Why did you think he would be the last person to do something like this to you when you know the type of person he is? Why does your chest feel like it’s caving in? Like your heart’s been ripped right out of it? Why does this hurt as much—why does this hurt more than Dazai’s potential betrayal?

And he certainly doesn’t love you. He never would have done this if he did. 

He’s killed people for disrespecting you—he hardly ever gets his own hands dirty, but he does when it’s you and your dignity on the line. He spends hours meticulously picking out birthday presents that he knows you’ll like. He gets sad when he invites you for lunch and you don’t join him, reminiscing about the days where you clung to the back of his coat.

He touches your shoulder, and your finger twitches on the trigger of the gun. You want to lift it, press it to his temple and pull the trigger just like you did to Ace, but you can’t. Your arm feels like lead, and when his hand slides down to your bicep to force you to turn around and face him so that your back is to the rest of the executives, you dutifully follow along.

His expression is unreadable as he looks down at you, violet eyes swimming with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. He lifts his hand to wipe away one of the tears that had spilled over your cheeks with his knuckle, and then taps your cheek twice, chiding you silently. 

Do not cry here, little hime. Not here.

“You have always been so dramatic,” Mori hums just loud enough for you to hear, but the words are fond, and the corners of his lip curl up as he looks down at you. “I would not betray you. Not ever, dear.” 

You look at Ace pointedly in response and then back to Mori, the man sighs dramatically and gives you a disappointed look. The nerve, you think bitterly, narrowing your eyes on him as you wait for his explanation.

“I told you,” Mori says. “I did this to protect you. I wanted to get ahold of the boy-”

“Because you have some mistaken belief that he’s a Tsushima,” you interrupt coolly. “How did you even manage to come up with that ridiculous theory?”

Mori’s eyes flicker with something akin to interest, but shifts quickly into pity—you can’t tell if it’s genuine or mocking, and you don’t know which would be worse. He must be mistaken, he has to be. You don’t think you can handle the implications of if he isn’t, of what it might mean for you. For Dazai. Your whole relationship with him. How much was manufactured for him to get information about the Port Mafia? So he could get a foothold in the organization? Get in contact with the remaining loyalists to his family?

“Sit,” he tells you, guiding you over to the seat at the right of the head of the table. “I’ll explain everything, but first… Shuji-kun, why don’t you come out and join us?” 

Your breath catches at Mori’s words, gaze twisting to the side over to the door that he’d come out of. You watch as the door creaks open, and the achingly familiar sight of his face finally comes into view. You’ve missed him—you’ve missed him, and you hate this. You should be back at your apartment with him, you should have him curled up in your arms, you should be listening to him complain about how long he was stuck with the Guild. 

This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be sitting at the executive roundtable with Ace’s dead body a few feet away, and Dazai entering the room, questions of his identity, of whether or not he’s been using you for information and opportunity to take back his grandfather’s legacy. 

You hoped that Dazai would enter the room angry, irritated by the kidnapping and the accusations, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai look like this before. He looks a mess, fidgeting, brown hair matted to his forehead, dark eyes wide and swirling with emotion. When he seeks you out, they’re pleading, imploring, like he already knows that whatever is about to be said is going to be bad for him. 

He looks… frazzled. Nervous. Confused. 

He looks guilty, and you know that Mori is telling the truth. 

How much of this was a lie? All of it?

Your throat feels uncomfortably tight, gaze sliding from Dazai back to Mori.

“Tell me.”

Who are you, Dazai Osamu?

———

Despite his body being wracked with a strange sense of guilt, Dazai pushes open the door to enter the room where he assumes you’ll be waiting. You’re not the only one there sitting at the table—there’s five… no, four others—but Dazai can’t help the way he immediately seeks you out. He recognizes his mistake instantly. That highly unwelcome, and highly misplaced, guilt amplifies the moment his gaze meets yours and he sees how crushed you are by all of this. His face twists into something that he knows condemns himself more. and from the way you instantly look away from him, directing your full attention to Mori, he knows he has. 

Now, you won’t meet his eyes at all.

Dazai sits stiffly across from you to the left of Mori. Nakahara Chuuya is on his opposite side, glaring holes into the side of Dazai’s head, but he can’t drag his gaze from you. He’s never seen you like this before—even back at the beach house when you’d been so close to breaking down under the weight of everything on your shoulders, you’d held yourself together as best you could. 

You’re unraveling now; he can tell you’re still trying to hold yourself together, but it’s as good as trying to pick up water with your fists, your emotions spill out through the cracks carved into the walls you used to hide yourself behind. Mori hasn’t even begun talking, yet your breath is unsteady and your eyes are swimming with emotion; your fingers are still wrapped tight around the grip of your gun, and Dazai is very acutely aware of Ace’s dead body slouched over the table not even a few feet away. 

And you won’t even meet his eyes.

Maybe it’s a good thing, he realizes, because Dazai isn’t sure what you might see if you do. You clearly didn’t like what you saw the first time. He just feels so guilty, and he doesn’t even know why he feels guilty because he’s not-he didn’t do any of what Mori implied. He didn’t use you, he didn’t know who you were before meeting you, it wasn’t all some scheme to try to take over the mafia. That’s ludicrous—he’s a literature student at YNU, not some gang lord. He just-

He loved you. Loves you. No ulterior motives. No strings attached. 

“I said tell me,” you snap when Mori doesn’t immediately begin talking. “You love talking, so why are you holding back now? Tell me, or I’m leaving.”

Dazai feels a bit sick to his stomach when you say ‘I’ with no implication of taking him with you. He tries to get you to look at him again, silently pleading with you to just spare one glance in his direction, but you’re irritated now. He can see it in the way your fingers flex around the gun, knuckles whitening and finger twitching on the trigger—it’s pointed at the woman sitting next to you, who is very acutely aware of the fact from how stiff she is. 

“Do you remember the night we took over the Port Mafia, dear?” Mori asks her, voice a low hum. 

“What kind of question is that?” you answer tightly. Your lip curls up in irritation, Dazai can see you become more and more antsy and angry—he’s never seen you so out of control before. “Of course, I do.” 

“And you, Shuji-kun?” Mori turns his attention to Dazai and he wants to spit in his face—his name is Dazai—but his voice fails him when he sees the way your face twists at the sound of the unfamiliar name. He stares at Mori instead, hating how amused the man becomes at his silence. “I’ll take that as a no, allow me to refresh you.”

“Eight years ago, a coup was staged against your grandfather’s regime,” Mori says, and Dazai feels like he’s being studied under a microscope. All eyes are on him now—even yours, but now, he can’t bring himself to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’ll find, and he’s scared it’s going to be something he doesn’t like. “Your grandfather was mad, killing civilians and mafiosos indiscriminately, something had to be done, and nobody was willing to do it, so we did.”

“We had to wipe out the whole family, and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s grandaughter…”

Dazai’s gaze drags over to you. You’re staring ahead now, gaze listless and expression eerily blank like you’re slowly starting to realize what this means. Dazai hasn’t come to terms with it yet, because if even a little of what Mori is saying is true then…

“We wiped out the whole bloodline and as many loyalists as we could,” Mori continues, “or we thought we did, at least. My dear hime was who I sent to kill the heirs, I trusted in her to make it quick and painless. We didn’t realize one of the grandchildren were missing until it was too late—he wasn’t in his bedroom, apparently liked to wander around at night because he couldn’t sleep. His mother was able to swoop in and get him out of the estate before our men took over the building… Tsushima Shuji, the youngest of the previous boss’s grandsons. Does this sound familiar yet, Shuji-kun?”

He has the best view of the night sky from an alcove on the fourth floor of the estate—his grandfather’s floor. It’s where he likes to go when he can’t sleep at night, and ever since his cousins and siblings started fighting over their grandfather’s legacy, that’s been just about every night: half because of fear now that things have started escalating to violence, half because he’s not even sure why he’s still here.

His knees are tucked tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head resting against the cool glass as he looks up at the stars. He hears a commotion happening somewhere downstairs, but there’s always a commotion happening at the estate, so he thinks nothing of it. He submerges himself in the darkness instead, letting his mind float away as he stares up at the sky—it’s the only time he’s able to relax, escape from the shadows of his own mind.

He’s not sure how long he sits there admiring the night, time passes immeasurably when he’s lost in the stars—he’s only snapped out of it when he hears feet slamming against the ground in his direction. He stiffens, eyes wide, wondering if another one of his cousins has finally turned to bloodshed as the way to inherit their grandfather’s legacy, but instead his mother turns the corner, her smooth face contorted in a type of panic he’s never seen on her before.

“Mothe…” he starts to say, confused, but he doesn’t even get a chance to finish the word, gasping as his mother grabs his wrist and yanks him off the cushioned seat in the alcove.

“Shuji, we have to go,” she gasps, “we need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

He stumbles after his mother, struggling to keep up with her quick pace and longer legs. Her grip was painful, nails digging into the bandages around his wrists, right into the fresh wounds they covered. He grimaces in pain, breathing heavy as he follows his mother down the hall, assumingly toward the steps near his grandfather’s room. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. “What about Bunji? Akane? T-”

His mother chokes over what sounds like a sob and his eyes widen—he’s never heard his mother cry before. 

“There’s no time,” she chokes out, “we have to leave without them. We-”

They turn a hall, she skids to a stop and-

“It seems that it does… Allow me to continue then,” Mori hums, drawing Dazai out of the memory. He sounds unbearably amused, and Dazai would be angry if he wasn’t so shaken. He pulls his hands off of the table to rest them in his lap to hide the way his fingers are trembling. “Your mother was able to hide you from us for half a year, I warned her that she wouldn’t be able to for long and since she didn’t share your grandfather’s blood, promised to spare her life if she gave you up to us, but she refused. She tried to take you out of the Kanagawa Prefecture, but our men were catching up to her, and she took… drastic measures to ensure we couldn’t track you down. That I’m sure you remember.”

“Mother,” he whispered, staring up at the rope, her limp body, gaze trailing down to the kicked over chair. “Mother, I don’t… why did you…”

He takes a step closer. A step back. Another step closer. He reaches out, fingers brushing the white nightgown she’d worn the night before while getting him settled in bed, but he snatches them back instantly like he’d been burned, clutching his hand to his chest.

He’s not breathing, he realizes when his lungs start to burn. His eyes sting painfully, unable to draw his eyes away—unable to even blink—is it a nightmare? Is he hallucinating? She sways—sways like when she used to distract him when he was settling into a depressive episode by putting on music and forcing him to spin with her in the kitchen, sways like the wind chimes she keeps outside because the house doesn’t feel homely enough without him, sways-

“Shuji! Shuji, get away from there!” The voice that calls to him is familiar—Aunt Kiye? Why is she here? “God, I tried to get here earlier. Nee-san, forgive me.”

Aunt Kiye grabs his wrist, yanking him away from his mother, dragging him out of her bedroom and down the hall. His voice is hoarse as he screams, he doesn’t know what he’s screaming, if he’s even screaming anything intelligible. He doesn’t stop until he’s out of the house and she’s kneeling in front of him, shaking him out of his panic.

“Enough, Shuji! We have to go, we can’t stay here, they’ll be here soon,” Aunt Kiye shouts at him, expression twisted and eyes pooling with tears that she doesn’t let spill over. “We need to go, and we-we need to change your name, change everything. I promised I would hide you, I-”

“We can’t leave her there,” he argues, voice shrill. “I don’t understand, why did she do that? What did I do? It was my fault, It was my fault, wasn’t it? It-”

Aunt Kiye doesn’t answer his question. She looks bitter, angry, hateful. “We have no time. We have to leave,” she whispers, dragging him to the car despite his protests. She continues talking, more to herself than to him, but the words make his chest cave in. “I told her not to get involved with that family. Their blood is black, cursed. Everyone knows nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

His fault, he realizes, breath becoming thin and shallow. It’s his fault, his blood, his fault that his mother-

“Yes, quite the unfortunate scene we walked into,” Mori says dismissively. “She was smart for it though, she never would’ve survived a night with our sweet hime interrogating her. You should see what she did to that despicable journalist. Of course, she wasn’t as fine-tuned with her ability back then, but that would’ve been at your mother’s expense—her first few attempts at conditioning were quite… unfortunate for her test sub-”

“Enough,” you spit out, interrupting him. Dazai wants to believe that it’s because you can see how uncomfortable he’s getting, but he’s not even sure that you care. He’s not even sure you remember he’s in the room. “Get to the point. You think he’s the Tsushima kid we missed—that doesn’t prove shit. It doesn’t mean-”

You don’t finish what you’re going to say, but you do look at him, and Dazai’s breath catches when his gaze finally meets yours again. He can’t tell what you’re thinking—the expression on your face is entirely indecipherable, something caught between being accusatory and guilty. Dazai doesn’t know if he’s going to make it out of this room alive. Even if by some miracle, you decide to believe him, there’s a good chance that Mori will order his death anyway, and he’s not sure if you’ll pick him over the Port Mafia. 

That being said, Dazai doesn’t even know if he wants to make it out of here alive. His brain is fogged with memories that he locked so deep within him that they never should’ve resurfaced—every time Mori speaks, Dazai’s recalling something new, something awful, something that proves that he’s every bit the freak people have always claimed him to be. Every bit as bad. Every bit as wrong. Not like other people. A monster whose mother killed herself because of him, a monster who's been cursed since the day he was born. 

“... blood is black, cursed… nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

More than that, he doesn’t see how the two of you are going to be able to come back from this, and that scares him more than anything. You’re the only good thing left in his life, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it without you, but he doesn’t think that after all of this things are just going to work out. You killed his siblings. His cousins. And yeah, Dazai was never close to them—they thought he was too quiet, too strange, all of the things that the other students at school whispered, his family was the first to—but… they were still his family, and if Dazai had been in his room that night, he would’ve been just as dead at your hands as the rest of them.

You killed his family. You would have killed him. The Port Mafia is the reason his mother killed herself, the reason why he walked into her bedroom and saw her hanging from a fan. The Port Mafia is the reason his aunt hated him so much that she couldn’t even bear looking at him, the reason why he was left to die in Suribachi City. 

Would you ever be able to get over the guilt of that? Would Dazai be able to accept it? You had a heavy hand in ruining his life, is it enough that you saved him years later? He doesn’t know, he’s hardly even processed it, he just knows that he has to cling to what little he has left, dig his nails in and not let go even if it makes you choke on guilt, even if it makes him sick with shame. He won’t let go. 

“So impatient,” Mori sighs. “Your aunt hid you for almost another half a year, but she wasn’t able to move out of the Yokohama area. She did well though, I’ll give her that. We had our best trying to find you, but she was very careful. It was partially our own fault that we didn’t get our hands on you back then—some loyalists to your grandfather snuck under our radar, told her when we were closing in on the two of you. She got rid of you before we got to her… but we did get to her. Kouyou-kun was the one who handled her, if I recall it got quite… messy. I can’t imagine how it must feel knowing that your mother and aunt sacrificed themselves to protect you only for you to throw it all away in an arrogant attempt to reclaim your grandfather’s legacy.”

Dazai doesn’t even zero in on the last bit of what Mori says because he’s too busy trying to wrap his head around the rest of it. Aunt Kiye didn’t… die for him. Aunt Kiye hated him. He remembers that clear enough—he remembers how she could hardly stand to look at him, he remembers the way she was always so cold and rough with him, he remembers-

“You have to go, Osamu.” Aunt Kiye is shouting at him, and he’s sitting in the passenger seat of her car. He doesn’t move, he thinks maybe if he sits still enough, she won’t see him there and won’t make him leave. “Osamu, get out of the car and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

The name is still unfamiliar—he’s not used to it, and he doesn’t know if he likes it, but Aunt Kiye insists that Tsushima Shuji is dead and that name can never be uttered again. She gets mad when he doesn’t immediately answer to it, tells him not to let his mother’s death be in vain, and that’s usually enough to get him to stop being stubborn over it.

“Osamu, go!” She grabs his bicep hard to try to get his attention, but he flinches and squirms out of her grip, still not responding to her. He can’t remember the last time he’s spoken—he thinks maybe since they left the cabin that morning. “You-”

Aunt Kiye sounds angry now, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. It’s only when he hears her unbuckle and feels her start reaching over him that he starts to panic. He reaches up to grab her bicep, trying to stop her from grabbing the handle of the door to open it, but she’s stronger than him. He’s hardly been eating lately, and he’s never been particularly strong—he was always the smallest among his siblings. 

It takes no effort for her to bat his hands away, pushing open the door and unbuckling his seatbelt. He struggles against her as she tries to push him out of the car, and she’s still speaking—shouting at him, begging him, he thinks she might be crying too, but he can’t even tell. His mind is fogged with panic and fear—he doesn’t want to be alone in Suribachi City, he doesn’t want to be alone at all. He wants to stay with Aunt Kiye even if she hates him because he doesn’t want to be alone. 

Eventually, Aunt Kiye wins the fight—even with him fighting tooth and nail, she manages to push him out of the car. He hits the ground hard, gasping when he lands poorly on his elbow. He’s stunned for a moment by the shock and pain, and Aunt Kiye takes the chance to toss out a backpack from the back seat and close the door behind him, locking it quickly. 

“No!” His voice is raspy from lack of use over the past few months. He scrambles to his feet and tries to pry the door open but can’t. Aunt Kiye won’t even look at him, she stares ahead as she switches the car into gear and he slams his hands against the window. “Aunt Kiye! Aunt Kiye, don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me here, please, I’ll be better, I’ll do better, just don’t-”

He stumbles back as she pulls the car away, falling when he trips over the backpack onto the asphalt, scraping up his hands and forearms. He’s not sure how long he sits there staring after where the car disappeared waiting for her to come back for him.

She doesn’t.

She didn’t die for him, Dazai thinks again, nails digging crescents into his palm. She didn’t die for him, she couldn’t have. Dazai won’t believe it. Aunt Kiye hated him, she abandoned him in Suribachi—none of this can be true. It can’t. His mother killed herself to be free of him, not to protect him; and Aunt Kiye abandoned him because she hated him, not to save him.

That’s the truth. It has to be. They couldn’t have died for him—for him. It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t want to remember all of this—he was better off thinking that they hated him, that they wanted to be free of him.

He can feel you looking at him now, but Dazai is back to being unable to look at you. He’s staring down at the glass table looking at his reflection, his eyes are wide and dark and far too black—he looks warped, inhuman almost. His expression is blank, none of the turmoil within him is reflected on it, and he doesn’t even understand why. He thinks it’s probably just making him seem more guilty.

“We figured she left you somewhere in Suribachi City, but we weren’t able to track you down,” Mori says flippantly. Dazai wants him to stop talking, but he has a sick feeling things are only going to get worse from here. “Not until you ended up with Oda Sakunosuke, at least, we…”

Dazai’s ears ring at his old friend’s name. Mori is still talking, but his words become a distant buzz. Everything starts coming back to him at once—his time alone in Suribachi City, the weeks he spent rationing the little food he had, getting the shit kicked out of him by some low rung gang who stole his mother’s ring from him. He remembers giving up, questioning the point of his own existence with a detached logic that left him with only one answer—there was no point to his existence, so he was as good dead as he was alive. 

He remembers seeing on a sign that it was the eve of his fifteenth birthday, and he remembers dropping himself in the bay during a storm, hoping that the tide dragged him so far beneath the surface that he’d never see the light of day again.

He remembers waking up the next morning to an unfamiliar face at his bedside, brows knit in disapproval and lips turned down, and he distinctly remembers feeling put out by a stranger looking at him that way.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dazai couldn’t remember anything but the name Aunt Kiye had drilled into him over and over again the past few months.

“Dazai Osamu.”

“Hm. Oda Sakunosuke. You got a family, Dazai?

Odasaku brought him in. 

Odasaku saved him. 

The doctors said he’d been dead for almost three minutes when Odasaku found him washed up on the beach—said his memory might return over time, but it might not—but Dazai didn’t even care, because Odasaku brought him in. He gave him a roof over his head, food to eat, and a reason to live. He sent him to school so he could feel like a normal kid his age. He played board games with him and didn’t even care when Dazai was a sore loser and quit mid-game when he realized he wouldn’t win. He humored Dazai when he faked being sick because he didn’t want to go to school. When Dazai was going through bad depressive episodes, Odasaku would sit with him silently and write his book so Dazai never felt alone. Odasaku introduced him to Ango and they were-

They were his friends.

Family, maybe.

They were all he had, and they were all he needed. 

And then-

“We were the ones who killed him.”

Dazai’s gaze drags up from the table to focus on Mori. The man’s lips are curved into a cruel smile, his eyes are sharp, and Dazai is moving before he can stop himself. He lunges across the table, but Mori doesn’t even flinch because Nakahara Chuuya grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him back down into his seat. 

“You-” Dazai spits, voice raspy and angry.

“Don’t look at me like that, we were trying to get to you,” Mori says casually as if the words don’t shatter Dazai’s entire world. “We would’ve loved to have Oda Sakunosuke amongst our ranks. His death was unfortunate. Collateral damage. He was an assassin for a long time—one of the best in the world. He was pretty much unkillable, his ability allowed him to see six seconds into the future. I never understood how our sniper managed to get him that day, but now I do. He saw you getting shot with his foresight and tried to pull you out of the way, but your ability is nullification, so when he touched you to save you, he damned himself. In those split seconds when he was pulling you to safety, he couldn’t see the future, and couldn’t see the bullets aimed for you that lodged into his chest instead.”

Dazai can’t do this anymore. He tries to push himself up to his feet but his legs are numb and uncooperative, and he can’t move his hands or arms. Mori’s lips part to continue speaking but Dazai can’t do this, he can’t hear anymore of this. He’d always known in his heart that Odasaku’s death was his fault even if he couldn’t remember much about his mother and Aunt Kiye and their desperate attempts to hide him from the Port Mafia. He’d known, but hearing it-hearing the confirmation, it’s too much for him.

Before Mori can say anything, Dazai is startled from his spiraling thoughts when you stand up so abruptly that your chair goes flying back. Your expression is haunted and you’re not looking at him again, but Dazai is glad for it, because he thinks he’s about to throw up.

“I… I need a minute. I just need a minute,” you say shakily before fleeing the room into Mori’s office so quickly that you almost trip over the chair you knocked over.

The room is silent in your wake, and after a few impossibly long moments, Mori stands to follow you into the other room. The three Port Mafia executives left in the room don’t say anything for a moment, and Dazai is just trying to breathe. He’s trying to breathe and process what Mori just said, but he’s failing miserably at it. 

It’s the woman, Kouyou, who speaks first.

“She’s going to kill me for knowing about this,” she says simply, sparing a glance down at the dead body on her opposite side. “I’ve never seen her like this before. Even when Chuuya-kun went missing for a few days, this…”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have conspired against her,” Piano Man sings, looking entirely unperturbed. “I mean honestly, after what the previous boss did to you, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic. Silly me to think you aren’t a cold-hearted bitch.”

Dazai tries to pay attention to what they’re saying, he tries to ground himself with the conversation happening so he can forget the feeling of Odasaku’s blood all over his hands, staining his clothes, smeared on his face. He tries to replace Mori’s echoing words with what they’re saying but he can’t.

“We were trying to get to you.”

“It has nothing to do with sympathy,” Kouyou snaps, but she does look ashamed. “It’s a security threat, it’s bigger than love. This boy could spell the end of everything we’ve built.”

“She won’t kill you, Ane-san,” Chuuya finally speaks up, his knuckles are tight around the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. “I’ll talk to her, I just-”

“When he touched you to save you, he damned himself.”

“Chuuya-kun, she almost killed you,” Kouyou says so dryly that the words almost don’t even register to Dazai, but when they do, they’re the only thing that effectively draws him from his spiraling thoughts. He looks at Chuuya sharply to see if what Kouyou said was true, and his eyes widen when he only grimaces and looks down. “You and Piano Man. She didn’t even hesitate before pulling the trigger on Ace. She’s unstable right now, there’s no talking to her.”

“But she didn’t,” Chuuya says tightly. “I’ll talk to her, but first…”

Chuuya looks at Dazai so suddenly that he almost wants to snap his head away and ignore him, but he can’t. The ginger studies Dazai so intensely that it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.

“Did you know?” Chuuya asks, voice low. He’s angry, Dazai can tell from the way a dark red color starts to flicker around his hands, but he’s trying to keep it together. “Tell me. Did you know who she was and use her to get closer to the Mafia for revenge? I’ll spare her the pain of having to put a bullet through your fucking head and kill you myself right now. Did you know who she was and purposely-”

“No,” Dazai interrupts, voice hoarse. “No. I didn’t-I didn’t know.”

Chuuya stares at him for a few seconds, studying him like he doesn’t know if he actually believes him, but after what feels like an eternity, he finally shakes his head and looks away, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Fuck, this is such a mess,” Chuuya breathes out, voice strained. “Fuck. She-”

Chuuya doesn’t finish his sentence because the door to Mori’s office reopens and you step back into the room, Mori at your heels. Your eyes are red, but your expression is withdrawn now, void of the tumultuous emotions that had been raging across it just a few minutes before. You settle back in your seat. Your eyes flit over Dazai like he’s not even there before focusing on Mori.

Dazai suddenly has a bad feeling.

“I’m not quite sure how you escaped us after that,” Mori continues where he left off, and Dazai is so sick of the man’s voice that he almost wants to rip his own ears off. “Probably Sakaguchi-san from the SDUP, I recall him and Oda-san being close… but that brings us to the present, doesn’t it? Four years later, you stumble into our lovely hime… Come, dear, let me tell you my running theory, and you tell me how accurate I am, yeah?”

Mori is looking at you now, eyes glittering as he waits for your response. Dazai has his own serious issues with the man, but he thinks it’s sick the way he’s enjoying your clear discomfort and increasing distress. Your jaw tightens a bit, but you nod, signaling for Mori to speak. Dazai’s nails dig into his pants as he waits for Mori to continue. Neither of you look at him, and Dazai’s lips part to speak so he can preemptively deny whatever Mori is about to accuse him of, but he can’t push a single word out. 

“Your first meeting with him wasn’t by chance. A cafe, maybe… a bar?” Mori offers, watching your face carefully for a reason. You look away at the second option, and the man’s lips curve up. “A bar, then. One you frequent, I bet. The one in Hodogaya-ku, perhaps? Your first meeting, but not Shuji-kun’s first time seeing you. Ui Koutarou—his journalism professor at YNU—wrote his first article implicating the Mori Corporation’s connection with the Port Mafia in February of this year, around a month before rising fourth year students register for classes. Shuji-kun, naturally, has been following anything related to the Port Mafia closely, so when he sees a class being offered in the fall by the same man who has been openly targeting the Port Mafia, he sees an opportunity and signs up for the class.”

No, Dazai tries to say. His lips form the word, but the sound doesn’t come from his lips. No. No, no, no, no. You look haunted suddenly, and Dazai remembers the argument he had with you during the government event in Tokyo. How cold and withdrawn you’d become. How when he confronted you next, you accused him of working with Ui Koutarou and blackmailing you for money. Mori is reigniting all of the initial fears you once had.

“Ui-san has had his sights set on you for quite a while, dear. You don’t need me to tell you that, you’re very well aware of the man’s hatred of you… When Shuji-kun started classes in the fall, Ui-san roped him into his plans, and you became his project. That wretched man had many documents on you. I had the Black Lizards raid his apartment after we captured him—most were harmless, detailing places you frequented and people seen around you, but when Shuji-kun became involved, he started using that information to manufacture meetings between you. I imagine that after you met him that first time, he started appearing around you rather regularly. Bump-ins at that cafe you like in Minami-ku, on the streets—he even started renting an apartment on property that we own after he realized the opportunity he had with Ui… he’s only been living there since the summer, you know?”

His last apartment wasn’t close enough to the school, Dazai wants to argue desperately. He’d been lucky that a cheap apartment opened up in Hodogaya-ku before the semester started—he’s been trying to get one since his first year. It has nothing to do with-

Dazai suddenly feels nauseous again, everything is spinning around him—he still hears Aunt Kiye screaming at him, he still hears the creaking of the rope his mother hung himself on, he still hears Mori’s confirming that Odasaku’s death was his fault. And now this, and you’re not looking at him again, and he’s not saying anything, why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he denying this?

“He attached himself to you quickly, didn’t he?” Mori asks rhetorically. “Too quickly, I’m sure you had doubts—not even your ability makes people reliant on you as swift as he became. How long did it take for him to start prying for information? Trying to make you slip up and implicate yourself with the Mafia? Confess yourself as an ability user?”

The night of the earthquake when you showed up at his apartment, he remembers dizzily. He started pressing you on your political opinion because he remembered Ui saying that all of the criminal syndicates in Japan are going to do whatever it takes to prevent the military bill from passing. But he wasn’t… doing it to prove anything? He just wanted to know more about you, he was curious, he was finally putting the mystery that you are together. It wasn’t malicious—he just wanted to know you. That’s all it ever was, he’s only ever wanted to know you.

“When did you tell him about your ability? More about our organization? Around when the Guild started making their move in Yokohama, I’m sure. He never told you about his ability until his hand was forced. In fact, I’m willing to bet he lied and said he didn’t know he had one, but tell me, do you really think an assassin of the caliber of Oda Sakunosuke would not realize his ward had an ability that negated his own? That he wouldn’t be trained in how to use it… Most importantly, if all of this wasn’t a scheme of revenge—if he really did love you—then why did he never get rid of the flash drive that contained the proof that his journalism house published? The proof that got you thrown in prison?”

You’re crying.

Dazai’s throat swells when he sees the tears silently tracking over your cheeks. At once, he realizes that he’s never seen you cry before; he itches to reach over to you, to grab your hand or wipe away the tears. He doesn’t—partially because he doesn’t think he could move if he tried, but mostly because he knows that he’s the reason you’re crying. 

He wants to assure you that none of this is true. He had nothing to do with the Guild—they kidnapped him for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know about his ability, he didn’t even know Odasaku was an assassin. And he was just… careless with the flash drive, and he shouldn’t have been, but there was always so much going on, and he was so new to having someone in his life that really loved him that he was quick to bask in it and forget everything else.

He doesn’t assure you of anything, instead he watches as Mori reaches out to do what Dazai wants to do. He brushes away your tears and turns your face to look at him, a disgustingly sympathetic look on his face.

“I know you were eager to believe that someone could love you without your ability at work influencing them, dear,” Mori murmurs, “but people like us will never find a love that pure. There will always be other factors at work sullying it—wealth, revenge, threats. You understand now what this was, don’t you?”

No, Dazai wants to scream at you. He does love you, this wasn’t some ridiculous revenge plot for family he hardly remembered until this meeting, that-

“I do.”

Dazai finally is able to make a noise when those two words leave your lips. It’s weak—something caught between a wheeze and a whimper that sounds too loud in the silent room. He feels eyes on him—Chuuya and Kouyou’s in particular. Not yours. You stare down at the table.

“Ogai-dono,” Kouyou clears her throat. “If I may… perhaps we could… send the boy away. Abroad. Ensure he never comes back to Japan so we don’t have to risk him coming back and disrupting things.”

“We could give him a seat at the table,” Chuuya interrupts, ignoring the wide-eyed look both Kouyou and Piano Man give him because of the radical idea. “We’re down an executive anyway. We tell people who he is, that he supports the new regime. It’s what you wanted to begin with, right, boss? You wanted one of the grandchildren to legitimize the passing of power. We could make it work.”

“It’s too risky.” Mori isn’t the one to speak, Piano Man is, but he doesn’t look happy to do it. “Maybe back then it could’ve worked, but the Port Mafia killed his friends and family, and hunted him down. Too much has happened, he’s an unpredictable variable that we can’t risk. We can’t trust that he’ll just accept it all, that he won’t work behind the scenes to take us down. Giving him any leverage in the organization is the last thing we should do, but what Kouyou-”

“Leave him alive and we risk everything we’ve built falling apart—a civil war igniting, Yokohama being caught in the crossfires and all of our foreign enemies crawling into the city to reap the benefits of our fall. It’s one life or hundreds—thousands, even,” Mori interrupts, voice cool. He turns his gaze onto you. “I trust you know what has to be done, dear.”

Your expression is resolved, a heavy emotion in your eyes that tells him your answer before you even speak. “Yeah, I know.”

You stand up, and Dazai knows that it’s over. When you look down at him, it’s with a type of apathy that makes his stomach twist—he’d rather hate than nothing. His lips part to speak but he pauses when you shake your head slightly, so subtly that he almost doesn’t even notice it.

“Get up,” you say flatly, and then glance at Chuuya. “Chuuya, will you…?” 

“Yeah,” Chuuya replies without you even needing to finish the question. His voice is hoarse, he looks more than a little disturbed. “Yeah. Of course.”

Chuuya rises to his feet and then grabs Dazai’s bicep to pull him up to his feet too. Dazai doesn’t even have the heart to give him a dirty look in response, following along as he leads him out of the conference room and into the hallway. 

For a split second, Dazai really believes that maybe you’re just trying to fool Mori, you made him think you were taking Dazai to have him killed so that you can get him out of here safely, but even once you’re out of the conference room without Mori’s eyes carefully watching you, you don’t look at him.

“Get one of the clean up crews up here,” you tell one of the guards waiting in the hall instead as you frown at your phone, typing out a quick text to someone. You pointedly ignore how alarmed they are by the offhand comment to click on the button to the elevator.

When you look back at the two of them, it’s not to look at Dazai—it’s to look at Chuuya. The two of you are having a conversation, Dazai can tell that much, and he thinks that maybe he should be putting in the effort to figure out what’s going on, what you have planned, but he’s just… tired. He’s not even sure if he cares what happens to him anymore, and he figures the worst case scenario is that he dies at your hands, and of all of the ways he could go, he thinks that would be the most preferable, because at least you would be the last thing he saw.

He doesn’t try to speak again until the three of you are in the elevator and the doors have closed. 

“I-”

“Stop.”

Dazai is startled by the sharpness in your voice. He looks at you, but you’re still not looking at him, your lips are curved down as you stare at your phone, typing furiously. He glances up into the left corner of the elevator, noticing the cameras—maybe that’s why, he thinks a bit unsurely, deciding to stay quiet until out of the building. 

When the elevator doors open, it’s Chuuya that urges him to keep walking by nudging his shoulder. You don’t touch him, don’t look at him. There’s nobody in the main entrance of the building, which Dazai thinks is a bit odd, but he bites back any comments he might have when he sees a black car waiting outside the building.

The doors to the building open at your approach, and Dazai inhales the crisp, fresh air greedily, not even having realized how stifled he’d felt in that room with Mori, you, and the other Port Mafia executives. He thinks maybe that you’ll sit in the backseat with him and he’ll finally be able to talk to you, but you don’t. You open the door to the passenger seat and sit there without even sparing him a glance.

Dazai’s throat starts to swell again, stopping in his tracks as he stares at where you disappeared behind the car door. Chuuya pushes him forward, not letting him linger for long—he opens the door to the backseat and pretty much manhandles Dazai into the car before taking a seat next to him.

He recognizes the person at the wheel—Albatross, your friend. He’s driven you and Dazai around before, every time Dazai gets in the car with him, he makes a sharp comment aimed to embarrass you in some manner. This time, he doesn’t even look at Dazai through the rearview mirror. He just puts the car in gear and starts driving.

A pit starts to form in Dazai’s stomach. Dazai tries to initiate conversation with you again now that you’re outside of the Port Mafia headquarters within closed quarters, nails scraping against his pants as he decides what he wants to say.

“I d-”

“Stop.”

When you cut him off now, Dazai’s stomach flips. He stares at the side of your face, trying to understand why you won’t even listen to him. You can’t actually believe what Mori was saying, you can’t. You were faking him out, tricking him into thinking you fell for it—you had to be, you have to be. You can’t possibly believe him. 

“You won’t… even hear me out?” Dazai asks you quietly.

“There’s nothing left to say.”

Oh, Dazai thinks to himself, withdrawing. He stares at you for a moment before turning away stiffly, expression tight and strained as he stares out the window, watching the buildings pass by as they get closer and closer to the ports. 

You believe it, he realizes dully. You believe that it was all just a scheme. You believe that everything was manufactured, that he used you for some fantastical revenge plan, that he never loved you. You believe it.

But it doesn’t make sense, he thinks desperately. He doesn’t understand how you’re not seeing through it, and if you are, why aren’t you at least giving him some hint? He should try to say something again—he knows that, but he finds himself unable to. He’s a smooth-talker, quick on his feet, but never when it comes to you—since the day he met you, he’s been fumbling over words awkwardly, but now it’s costing him everything. He finds ash in his mouth preventing him from salvaging anything he might’ve had with you.

Dig your nails in and cling, he reminds himself, but his nails have become rounded out and blunted from how long he was scratching at his pants and skin while remembering all those memories he locked away. He tries to dig his nails in and cling, but his voice fails him and his nails can’t even find purchase on your skin, you slip out of his hands as easily as an eel.

He’s going to lose you. He might’ve lost you already.

Dazai thinks that’s worse than the realization that he really might be about to die.

The car comes to a stop much quicker than Dazai had hoped, and he stiffens when you waste no time before getting out of the car. He makes no move to join you outside, and Chuuya sighs next to him.

“Get out,” Chuuya says flatly. When Dazai doesn’t budge again, Chuuya snaps, “Get out of the car-”

“-and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

Dazai draws his knees to his chest, breath becoming a bit labored as his aunt’s voice echoes in his ears. He doesn’t even realize that Chuuya has gotten out of the car until Dazai’s car door is pried open. For a split second, he confuses the executive with his aunt as he’s yanked out of the car—he’s fourteen again and being abandoned by the only person he has left, and he can just barely bite back the “don’t leave me here!” that almost spills from his lips as his knees hit the ground hard.

Dazai is instantly hit with a thick scent that makes him gag. It’s noxious, almost entirely unbearable, clogs his throat to the point he almost struggles to breathe—a blend of rot, acrid chemicals, and something he doesn’t recognize, but it’s sickeningly sweet. As he pushes himself to his feet, he notices you pass your gun over to Chuuya, but in that moment, Dazai is more concerned with figuring out where he is, and when he does, his stomach drops.

The dumping grounds by ports stretch endlessly under the heavy, overcast sky. Mounds of trash rose like grotesque hills patched with scraps of torn plastic and suspicious lumps that Dazai doesn’t have to get close to know what they are. The ground is uneven and treacherous—a mix of sticky mud and sharp shards of discarded glass and plastic, and pools of murky water shimmering with oil slicks. 

It’s disgusting, and Dazai has a feeling it might be his final resting place. 

He trails over to the side of the road and his gaze tracks down to the ground directly below him. It’s not a far drop, hardly a foot or two, and certainly less gross than some of the other parts of the area, but that’s a low bar to meet. He tears his eyes away from the scenery around him to look back at you, lips parted to speak but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re leaning against the front of the car, watching him with an expression that Dazai can’t describe. Sad, maybe, resigned. Chuuya is back in the car, from what Dazai can tell, he's still fiddling with your gun—he wonders if this is his way of letting the two of you say goodbye in private.

“I do love you,” Dazai says. His voice cracks over the words. “No ulterior motives. No schemes. I just loved you. Love you.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, eyes drawing from him somewhere over to the side like you’re looking for something, but after a moment, you look back at him, your face a little softer than it was before.

“I know,” you tell him quietly. “I know, Osamu.”

Dazai’s lips part to say something back—he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, because confusion fogs his mind. If you know, then why-

Why are you doing this?

He doesn’t get the chance to ask. The car door opens and Chuuya steps back out, he passes your gun back to you and Dazai sees you subtly slide something into his hand too, but he can’t tell what it is. You sigh as you look down at the gun before looking back up at him again, he holds his breath as you make your way closer to him.

His lashes flutter shut, expecting to feel the cool barrel of the gun against his forehead, but his breath hitches when he instead feels the familiar warmth of your hand cradling his cheek. Your fingertips are flaked with Ace’s dried blood, but Dazai still leans into your touch, eyes sliding back open to look at you.

Up close, your expression is twisted with regret and… is that fear? Dazai can’t tell, he doesn’t care, he’s more preoccupied with memorizing the image of you before he runs out of time to.

“Forgive me,” you whisper so faintly that Dazai almost doesn’t hear you.

“I do,” he replies just as softly.

Your face crumbles as you look away. You take a step away from him, and your hand drops down from his face. Dazai instantly mourns the loss. You let out a heavy, shaky breath, sparing one last look down at the gun in your hand, one to Chuuya who stands half a step behind you, and then you look at Dazai again.

“Forgive me,” you say again, this time as you lift the gun—your voice is raspy, breath uneven.

Your fingers tremble so violently that the whole gun is unsteady, but Dazai doesn’t even care to look at it, gaze focused on your face instead. 

“I do,” Dazai repeats.

You pull the trigger. 

[luveline]

Hii, Jade 🤍 please bring back singledad!spencer, reader and Amanda 🥹 they r so special

—Spencer experiences your first Spencer-brought-upon baby fever, to his shock. fem, 2k 

(cw: reader is written as enthusiastically wanting kids) 

Spencer’s been reading to Amanda since the moment she could open her eyes. By two months she was cooing in delight whenever he spoke, and that included during story time. He didn’t mind that she didn’t understand, he just loved being with her. He still does. 

So when Amy interrupts your conversation to beg for him to read her something, he gives you an apologetic look, asking, “Do you mind?” 

“Of course I don’t mind.” You wouldn’t, you’re like an angel, leaning back on the couch with little urgency as Amy climbs into Spencer’s lap.

“Thank you. Sorry for interrupting,” Amy says. 

“Gosh, you’re so smart,” Spencer says, tucking a curl of her hair behind her ear. “Interrupting, that’s a big word.” 

“Go ahead,” you say, getting comfortable in front of one of Spencer’s woven cushions. “I’ll listen too, if that’s okay.” 

Spencer opens the storybook to the first page. Amy likes this one. The corners of the pages are soft with use. “Cerys’ Brave Day,” he begins, grinning as Avery pushes herself up his chest to look down at the illustrations. “Cerys wakes up without mommy. Cerys makes her own way out of bed. There is no mommy to wipe her face or brush her hair. My mommy, she thinks, is not there.” 

Amy smiles into Spencer’s cheek. He wraps an arm around her, as if to say, I know, angel, it’s exciting. “Her mommy must be having a slow day. She doesn’t appear to give Cerys any help. And Cerys says–”

“No way!” Amy finishes, pointing at the drawing of a bathroom sink and toothbrush. “I don’t want to brush my teeth by myself!” 

It goes on like that for some time. Spencer notices you getting closer as he goes on, your arm pressing to his side. 

Cerys finds that her mommy is having a slow day. Cerys’ mommy is just as loving as the other mom’s, but sometimes she takes longer to help Cerys brush her hair, and get dressed. Cerys has to be a brave, smart girl, and help her mommy with the small things. Spencer enjoys it, and thought it was a great expression of empathy for Amy to one day understand.

“Later, when mommy feels better, she says I’m sorry for being so slow. Mommy didn’t mean to forget her, she just struggles to get up and go. 

“Cerys doesn't want her to be sorry. She loves helping her mommy out. Because mommy loves Cerys, and Cerys loves mommy, and that’s never been in any doubt.” 

Amy turns her face to Spencer with a huge smile, somehow bigger than when it started. “I love that story,” she says. 

Spencer lets the storybook fall closed in her lap. “It’s a good one, huh?” 

“What do you think, Y/N?” Amy asks. 

You’re delighted by Amy in a way Spencer’s used to seeing in the mirror. “I loved it. Daddy’s a good storyteller, and you’re such a good assistant. You know lots of the big words.” 

She preens. “Thanks.” 

You can’t resist her, pushing against the top of her head with a nice palm. “You’re welcome.” 

“Can we have another one?” she asks. 

Spencer checks the time on his watch. Amy realised it was bedtime before he did, it seems. “Come on, lovely girl. Let’s start getting ready for bed, and you can have any story you want.” 

He’s obviously not expecting you to leave, but at the same time, things are new enough between you that when he asks if you want to sleepover, your grinning “Yes, please,” throws him for a loop. 

You have spare clothes and toiletries in the bedroom. You ask to take a quick shower and get all smiley and shy when he says you never have to ask. 

“So dad,” Amy says. 

“So Amy,” he says, pulling down the blankets on her bed. She has five layers because suddenly November is cold. He wonders if she needs a sixth. 

“I can’t sleep in the big bed tonight.” 

“Well, that depends on how badly you want to.”

“Really?” 

“You’ve known Y/N for a long time, right? She’s been my friend for a long time, before she was my partner. I think she’d be okay with having you sleep in the big bed again if you need to. It was your place before it was her place, and she knows that.” 

“Well…” 

He grabs her under the arms and places her in bed. She could use her stepping stool, but he likes picking her up and putting her down. It makes him feel super paternal. “Just think about it, angel. If you change your mind, you can just come and knock the door. 

“Promise?” 

“Honey.” He kisses her forehead twice, before pulling the blankets up over her, and turning on her mushroom night light. “How’s that? Okay, I promise you can still come knock my door. Cross my heart.” 

“Can you stay for a little?” she asks. 

Spencer sits on her bed by her legs. They feel weirdly small under his hand despite the padding he’s given her. “Babe, are you sure you’re warm enough? This does not feel like enough blankets.” 

“It’s loads. Give me a hug.” 

Spencer lays down in her bed, almost falls off, and covers her with his arm. Their curls tangle together on the pillowcase. 

“Like this?” he asks. 

“Exactly.” 

“Amy, you’re using such big words, you’re so smart.” He’s gonna take her for an assessment at some point. He doesn’t care if she’s super intelligent or not, but lately it’s like she’s so much older than she is. A few days ago she said the word discombobulated. “My smarty-pants.” 

“I like big words,” she says. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Remember what Amanda means?” he asks. 

Amy giggles as he shakes her by the tummy. “She who must be loved.” 

“Exactly. Loved by everyone, deserving of love. Always, from the second you were born!” He leans down to kiss her cheek, meeting her eyes as he pulls back. “Okay?” 

She certainly feels loved, he’d wager. He loves her so much it’s like an extra part of his soul in another person. “Story?” she asks. 

“Yes, I did say we’d have one, didn’t I?” He’d almost forgotten. Spencer grabs a couple of her soft backs from the book stand and lets her choose. 

After he’s read a few books and given her a couple of cuddles, Amy begins to list. She presses her nose to his shoulder and mumbles something he doesn’t hear. 

“What did you say, sweetpea?” he mumbles. 

“Just goo’night.” 

“Goodnight. I’ll tuck you in, okay?” 

“Spence?” 

He’d almost forgot you were here. You’re standing in the doorway, arms still damp, pyjama pants stuck to your calves. “Where’s the fire?” he asks. 

“What?” 

“In a rush?” 

“Oh, I just wanted to hear story time. Did I miss it?” 

Spencer kisses Amy again. “I think so. I’m just saying goodnight.” 

You lean against the door. “Goodnight, then, lovely girl.” 

Spencer forces himself up to tuck her in. “Goodnight,” he says again, stroking the hair from her eyes, though they’re closed already. She doesn’t manage to say goodnight back, just touches his arm before he goes. 

You take his hand when he’s close enough. He follows, pressing his face to your shoulder from behind. 

“I like watching you be a dad.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm, you’re good at it. It’s… I don’t know, I know Amy isn’t my baby, but I do love her, so it’s never not gonna be nice to watch you, and… I’m worried to say this.” 

“Just say it.” 

“Maybe one day, I…” You catch his eye and give him a panicked smile. 

You climb into bed together. He tries to get you to finish what you’d been saying but doesn’t succeed, no matter how nicely he draws that shape you love into your neck. It’s alright, though. It doesn’t matter. He nearly forgets you’ve brought it up at all until you’re lifting yourself up from your place on his chest. “Spence?” you ask, so close it makes him nervous, his stomach twitching of its own volition. 

“What?” he asks. 

“I know it’s soon. I know we’re not… locked in. I was just thinking about our future and our family, and I’m really happy. And– and if you did want to, I guess I wanna know if… would you ever have more?” 

“More kids?” he asks, dumbfounded. 

Your pupils are massive, staring down at him, giving your eyes this darkness so rare in your gaze. “Have you ever thought about it?” 

“Of course I have, especially with you.” 

You fluster but push through. Your laugh warms his lips as you lean down. “Don’t say that.” 

“Isn’t that what you just said?” 

You kiss him. He lifts his chin too fast to follow you and ends up pushing you away. His cheek is burning in your hand, your index finger to the corner of his eye and so, so tender where it touches an eyelash. “Amy’s so much like you, honey,” you say, tucking a long flyaway strand behind his ear. “And it’s all you.” 

Spencer wonders if you’re perhaps entering the ovulation stage of your period, but forbids himself from asking, should he sound like a freak. But surely you can’t be feeling as strongly as you are about this from story time alone. He’s not that good at telling them. 

“It’s not all me. Amy’s herself, and she’s parts of everyone she’s ever met. I think she’s been a lot braver since she met you,” Spencer says. 

He’s not sure what he said there, but you peer down at him like he’s entirely new. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, drawing a line across his cheek.

“I’d love to have a baby with you, I just thought saying that might be too much too soon.” 

“Well, it is,” you say, sounding insanely pleased, at odds with your words, “that’s so soon. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.” 

He thinks he gets it. Spencer covers your hand where you’re been caressing his cheek and brings it to his mouth, giving your knuckles a kiss. “You’re already so caring, you’ll make an amazing mother.” 

“Not just if we have babies though.” 

“No, I know.” His hand acts for itself as he tucks your hand against his neck. “Amy loves you.”

“She’s brilliant, Spence.” And whatever adoring you’d been ladening on him comes to an end. “Her vocabulary is insane for her age, she really is her father’s daughter.” 

You lay yourself across his chest again for a hug. 

Spencer applauds himself for surviving whatever that was. You, eyes dark and imploring, asking him about babies and touching him like that. “Amy would love a baby sibling,” he says. 

“How many should we have?” 

He laughs loudly. The taboo of everything being too soon is forgotten as you and Spencer talk about babies, houses, what middle school Amy might go to, what daycare you could send your babies to. It’s so exciting it makes his chest pang, thinking about living with you, about marrying you. And your enthusiastic answers make it worse. It’s clear you’ve thought about some of this stuff at depth. 

You could really get married one day, Spencer thinks. There’s a real possibility you might say yes. 

“Do you really think Amy wouldn’t mind a sister?” you whisper. 

“She’s asked me a couple of times how she can get one, so yeah. I think we can safely assume she’d like that.” 

“She asked you that?” you coo. “Aw, lovely girl, what did you tell her?” 

“Well, I told her she came from a pumpkin.” 

“You did?” 

“Mm. It was my fault then when she got very excited at Halloween.” 

You giggle into his neck. “When we have a baby, we’ll buy her a pumpkin.” 

“Or a squash, but I don’t think we could fit a baby in a butternut.” 

You hug him nice and hard. Spencer isn’t sure, but he suspects this is the beginning of a very new, very enjoyable chapter of your lives. Even more so when you nose at his jaw and mumble something about his ‘kissability’. 

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 8

Summary: It's Thanksgiving, your first official holiday with Wanda. Someone stops by to create a little havoc.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

All the houses look the same, at least to him. The navigation system in his rental car isn’t any better.

Or maybe his sister gave him a fake address just to mess with him.

After a while, he decides it’s enough, pulling over when he sees someone jogging around the neighborhood.

“Excuse me”

“Hey” the woman says, stopping. Her smile is wide, and Pietro’s taken aback by how friendly she seems with a stranger.

“I’m looking for an address, can you help me out?”

“Sure”

“It’s Hill Drive 216”

“Right, well all you have to do is drive straight ahead for five blocks. Then turn right and then left” the woman says, leaning over the car window. As she’s giving directions, he can’t help but stare at her toned legs in full display.

“I really appreciate it. Maybe I can buy you some coffee to thank you?”

“Sure. See ya around” she says with a smirk, running in the opposite direction. Pietro didn’t get her number, but he figures she might know Wanda. So they’ll meet again.

In no time, he finds Wanda’s house. The woman is already sitting in the porch, as if she can feel her twin brother coming.

“This was supposed to be a surprise. You don’t look surprised”

“You asked my neighbor for my address. She called to know if you were a creep so she’d call the cops on you”

“What? She was so nice. And she’s very hot. You should have told me you had hot neighbors”

Wanda gives him a cryptic smile, but he doesn’t have time to ask the meaning behind it, as Tommy and Billy come running down the stairs.

“Uncle Pietro!”

“Bratan” he says, allowing the boys to tackle him to the ground. “You’re so big! What is your mom feeding you two?”

The boys laugh, pulling him inside so they can tell him all about school, soccer and their videogames.

A half hour later, there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it” he volunteers. To his surprise, the girl he spoke to earlier is on the other side. She’s now wearing jeans and a long sleeved sweater.

“Hey, Pietro”

“I didn’t… tell you my name”

But before he can connect the dots, Wanda walks past him, standing on her toes to kiss the woman.

“Hey, baby. Apparently you already met Pietro”

“Oh, yeah. Heard he was hoping to get a hot date out of some simple directions”

At that, his sister and her girlfriend let out a laugh, and he groans, hiding his face in his hands.

—

It was totally worth it, to see Pietro’s face as realization hit him. You were Wanda’s girlfriend.

He looks shocked, and embarrassed as you walk past him, Wanda’s hand in yours.

“At least the Maximoffs have consistency in their taste” you comment, making Wanda laugh and Pietro blushes.

“She never sent me a picture of you, ok? How was I to know?”

“I didn’t send it because I knew you’d fall for her and she is all mine” Wanda rolls her eyes, arms around your waist. You kiss her temple, smiling.

“Are you staying for Thanksgiving?” you ask, curious about his plans for the holidays.

“That’s the idea”

“You’re little buddy Rogers isn’t joining us?” you glare, so he knows you know what he tried to do.

“Oh, yeah. Heard you felt threatened by him. Still jealous, Y/N?”

“Jealous? I’m a Trauma surgeon, for goodness sake. What is your job, by the way? Snowboarding? Or do you call it snow? You know, like Ken in the Barbie movie”

“It gets me all the girl’s phone numbers” he arches an eyebrow.

“You certainly didn’t get mine”

“Stop it” Wanda laughs it off to ease the tension, standing between you two. “It’s Thanksgiving. The holidays. A time to forgive and enjoy”

“Fine,” he agrees. “Truce?”

“Not until you take the kids for a movie so we have an afternoon to ourselves” you say, because now that you’re back to work it’s been harder to get alone time with your girlfriend.

“Alright”

—

“It’s very important to me” Wanda says, stuttering lightly as you kiss down her neck.

“Of course, baby” you say, holding her hips as she tries to continue the conversation. She’s saying something against your lips, so you roll her nipple between your fingers, which makes her quiet for a few minutes.

Then, you’re between her legs when she starts talking again.

“He’s my brother, we’ve known each other our whole lives. I really want him to get to know you”

“Wanda” you sigh, defeated. You look up, with a smile at her disheveled state. “Can we not talk about your brother when I’m eating you out?”

“Sorry”

You kiss her thighs, going up to lie next to her.

“Or am I that bad at giving you head these days, baby?”

“It’s not that” she rushes to say, straddling your lap. Wanda pecks your lips to appease you, hands going up and down your arms. You squeeze her hips, encouraging her to continue. “But I mean it, I want you to get along”

“I was joking before. Mostly”

“Y/N” she whines and you smile.

“Ok, I just feel… the last time we almost broke up because he was trying to test me using Steve, right? I’m a bit butthurt about it, you know I’m proud and petty like that. And I’m not… I’ve never met someone’s family. I told you I’m not good with this relationship stuff”

“All you have to do is try” she says, leaning down to kiss you. “And absolutely nothing will break us apart, my love”

“Promise?”

“Swear” she says against your lips. You kiss her again, hands going down to her ass.

“Can I carry on now or would you like to talk about more family members?”

“Carry on” Wanda giggles when you flip her on her back, but those turn to moans pretty soon, feeling how your tongue works through her folds.

—

“Ok, guys, just like we practiced” Pietro says as he parks in the street, looking at the twins. They nod, staying inside the car while their uncle walks to the door.

“Hey, sestra… ah, seriously?!”

All he sees as he walks in is his sister’s head thrown back on the couch, and he can guess where you are.

“I thought you locked the door” Wanda reprimands you, but you just smirk, getting dressed. You make sure that only Pietro is within earshot when you smack Wanda’s ass, and she yelps.

The man is glaring when Wanda opens the door, her hair a mess and your shirt all wrinkled.

“Where are the kids? Why are they waiting in the car?”

In that moment, the twins open the car door, and you can see they are carrying a small, white dog. You want to cackle, because Pietro is so dead. But you keep a neutral expression, staying behind Wanda.

“You idiot” Wanda says, followed by a string of curses in Sokovian. You’ve never seen her this upset and it’s kinda hot.

“Come on, kids. Let’s go back to my place and bathe this little dude”

“No, please don’t leave me alone with her” Pietro pleads as Wanda pulls him by the ear.

“Sorry, I don’t want to be a witness to whatever it is she’ll do to you” you give him finger guns, hurrying back to take the kids to your place. It’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t appreciate you using her bathtub to take care of the pup.

“So, wanna tell me what happened?” you say once you’re in the bathroom.

“Well, we found Sparky outside the cinema. He was looking for food in the garbage and was so sad and alone”

“Do you think Mom will let us keep him?” Tommy says.

“Let’s take him to the vet tomorrow. Maybe he escaped home and his owners are looking for him”

The boys remain silent as you rinse the soap from Sparky’s fur. Of course, he shakes as soon as you’re done, drops of water flying everywhere. Billy and Tommy laugh, which makes you smile.

They had never brought up the subject of pets, but you have a feeling that it’s because Wanda had told them that the answer was going to be no, no matter what.

You use an old t-shirt and your blow dryer to get him all fluffy. He is a cute dog, that’s for sure.

“Come on, let’s get back home” you tell the kids, letting Tommy carry Sparky.

Pietro is in the porch, hand on his cheek as he sulks around the stairs. His ear is so red from all the pulling that Wanda did and you almost want to laugh.

“She won’t talk to me” he mumbles like a grumpy teenager.

“Jeez, I wonder why”

You walk inside, going straight to Wanda’s room. Still, you knock and let her know it’s you.

“Hey, love. Woah” as soon as you open the door she’s hugging you, and you don’t know if her tears are from anger or sadness. “I’m here, what’s wrong?”

“Pietro is so… immature! Why would he think it’s a good idea to bring a dog into my home? He is always like this. Now, I’ll have to tell the kids we can’t keep him and they will hate me”

“Wanda, they won’t hate you. Breathe for me” you run your hands up and down her back. “Here’s what we’ll do. Tomorrow I will drive with the kids to the vet, they’ll check for a microchip or anything else that tells us if he has a family”

“They always wanted a pet and I just couldn’t do it, it was too much work for one person and I…”

“And you are not alone anymore, ok? You have me. And as it happens, my family’s always had dogs. Don’t stress, leave it to me” you say, kissing her temple.

“Thank you. I’m staying here. Can you make sure the kids have dinner?”

“Of course, baby”

You make a couple of sandwiches and let the kids eat in the living room, while Sparky walks around and smells everything. It’s a good sign that he’s not peeing in every surface of the house.

Once the kids have dinner, you take the dog to the backyard, noticing the wooden fence needs some work, or Sparky will be able to escape.

Another thing on your list.

“Is Mom mad at us?” Billy asks when you’re upstairs, tucking them in. Sparky is in the corner, sleeping between Tommy’s shoes.

“Not at all, kiddo. She’s just not sure we can take care of Sparky. Dogs can be a lot of work, ya know?”

“Did you have dogs?” Tommy says from his bed and you nod.

“Yeah, we had all kinds of dogs. Big ones, small like Sparky. You have to walk them, feed them, take them to the doctor…”

“Maybe it is a lot of work” Billy says, dropping his shoulders.

“Hey, no worries, we will figure it out. Just make sure you’re nice to your mom. She just wants the best for everyone. Rest now. And Sparky doesn’t sleep on anyone’s bed, got it?”

The kids giggle at that, and you roll your eyes, knowing they’ll probably break that rule.

—

“We’re home” you announce.

“How did it go?” Wanda says, while Pietro is in the living room, pretending to read.

“No microchip. But he did get blood work and everything seems fine, we also got him dewormed and he can start with vaccination in two weeks”

“You know a lot about dogs” Pietro says, but shuts his mouth the minute Wanda turns to glare.

“So, yeah. We could call a shelter and ask if they can take him”

“But he would be in one of those cages, alone” Wanda says, sounding sad.

“I guess”

“Let’s just keep him until we figure something out” she decides, looking as the kids play with the dog in the front yard.

“Yeah, ok. We got him some kibble, plates, a new leash and a bed, so he’s all set. I’ll just have to fix the fence”

“Oh? Will you wear your tool belt?” she says, biting her lip. Pietro gags from his place in the couch. Wanda turns to scold him. “Keep it up and you’re staying in a hotel”

“Bossy. And mean. I love it” you say, pulling her closer. You share a quick, but passionate kiss.

“I could fix the fence” Pietro offers.

“You don’t even know how to drive a nail,” Wanda argues.

“I’m trying to do something nice, sestra”

“You’ve done enough”

They begin to argue like a couple of teenagers so you have to step between them, raising your hands.

“Enough. Pietro can help me when I fix the fence. We all win. Isn’t that great? Two of your favorite people working together” you say.

“Only one” Wanda says and Pietro is ready to fight when you snap your fingers.

“To your corner, Pietro” you warn him, dragging Wanda to the kitchen. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Mmm?” she melts when you rub that spot in her lower back that always relaxes her.

“I don’t think Pietro meant to do any harm with this. At most, he thought you’d end up loving Sparky more than me” Wanda laughs, and she leans against you. “He’s visiting and you’re always talking about how much you miss him, so try to forgive him”

“You’re right”

“You sound surprised,” you joke, kissing her softly. “I have work. I’ll be back tomorrow, ok?”

“Don’t leave. I know nothing about dogs” she pleads.

“I’m always one call away, love of my life” you promise.

—

Five missed calls. You sigh when you leave the OR, though it is from an unknown number.

Before you can return the call or contact Wanda to make sure she’s fine, Darcy finds you, dragging you by the hand without any explanation.

“Does this belong to you?” she says, pulling the curtain to reveal Pietro, holding an ice pack against his right hand.

“It belongs to my girlfriend”

“It? Seriously?” he complains, but Darcy ignores him.

“Came in with hammered fingers and cries every time I try to examine him”

“I will take a look. Thanks, pal” you force him to remove the ice pack, ignoring his protests. “What happened?”

“I tried to fix the fence”

“Mhm” you bend his fingers and move them around, trying to check if there’s a fracture. He complains and tries to jank his hand back, but you don’t let him.

“Can’t you take some X-Rays?”

Now, where’s the fun in that?

“Honestly, I think you’ll just have some swelling and pain. Let’s put a bandage in those three fingers and make sure you don’t move them too much”

“At least Wanda’s less mad at me”

You smile.

“Glad to hear it. Did she drive you here?”

“No, I wasn't in the mood to be lectured. I just told her I needed something from the hardware store and came straight to the ER”

You nod, writing a prescription for him. Once you’re done, you take the hand, bandaging the three fingers together.

“You know, I just worry” he interrupts the silence.

“About what?”

“Well, has she ever told you about the twins’ father?”

You glance back at him, arching an eyebrow.

“No, and I respect that. If she ever feels like telling me, I’m sure she will. So I’d appreciate it if we keep it at that, Pietro”

“I’ll just say, he was the biggest asshole. And it almost destroyed her. I promised myself no one would hurt her again”

You nod, still working in silence. Of course, the shovel talk. After the stunt he pulled with Rogers, this is nothing, really. Going along and nodding a few times might just do the trick.

“To be fair, I never liked him. You’re fine, I guess”

“I can live with being just fine in the eyes of Frosty the snowman” you mutter, finishing the bandaging and giving him some pills. “Now go back home and let me take care of the fence when I’m there”

An ambulance parks right outside of the ER and you excuse yourself. You don’t notice Pietro hanging back, watching as you help the paramedics move a woman from their gurney to a hospital bed.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re out of the OR and see a text from Wanda that you remember the incident.

Wanda: Thank you for checking Pietro.

Y/N: Happy to help the evil twin, love.

Wanda: What would that make me? The good twin?

Y/N: The hot, beautiful, angel twin.

The sound of your pager snaps you back to reality, which means the last hours of your shift will be busy.

—

“I should go and help”

“Please, don’t”

Wanda and Pietro are sitting in the backyard’s deck, watching as you fix the fence.

“Did you get Sparky as a test? To see how she’d react?”

“That is actually a great idea but no” Pietro laughs, stretching his arms. “I can’t believe you don’t remember”

“Remember what?”

“We were at school, back in Sokovia when we were five or six. The teacher asked us to draw our pet, but we didn’t have one so…”

“So you drew a dragon and said you wanted one for our birthday” Wanda suddenly remembers, frowning. “But what did I draw?”

“A white dog, with a very pink nose and fuzzy hair. And when we were at the theater, I saw him and thought, that’s my sister’s dog”

Wanda laughs, trying not to cry at her brother’s antics, wiping the corner of her eyes before she gets emotional. She reaches for his hand and he squeezes it, smiling.

“Why haven’t you told her about how you had the twins?” Pietro asks after a while, his voice soft.

“Because… I’m afraid she’ll see me differently. And I don’t know if it’s worth it, dwelling in the past. It’s done and nothing can change it”

“It’s not about dwelling in the past, it’s about sharing everything that makes you who you are. And that’s a big part of it” Pietro insists, standing up when the boys show up with Sparky. “We’re going to the park. See you for dinner”

Wanda stays on the deck, watching as you finish replacing the last wooden panel.

“I am so ready for a shower and a nap” you sigh, plopping down next to her. “At least Sparky can be out safely now”

“How can I pay for your very hard work?” Wanda says, and your hand squeezes her thigh.

“I can think of a few ways, Mrs. Maximoff. But when I’m not all sweaty”

“You’ll have to leave the toolbelt on, though” she says, making you laugh as you kiss the spot behind her ear.

You enjoy the breeze as you sit together on the deck, drinking a beer while Wanda looks out her yard.

“If I told you something, would you promise not to judge me?”

“I would never, my love” you say, putting a strand of hair behind her ear gently. “What is it?”

“It’s about the twins”

“Uh. Did Pietro put you up for this?” you click your tongue. “You don’t have to tell me anything; whatever the situation is, I imagine it’s not easy”

“I think… It would help explain why he’s so protective of me. And I want you to know, I do”

“Alright, then. I’m listening”

It takes her a moment to gather her thoughts, looking at her clasped hands.

“We met in college” she begins. “I was 20 and he was on an exchange program. Came from Oxford University, I think. We were in different faculties but somehow crossed paths at a party and got talking. It was the first time I was in love”

“He was elegant and acted like a gentleman, and said funny things without being crass. He acted differently than the rest of guys I ever tried to date. So we were together the whole semester, until winter break came. I was considering inviting him over to spend Christmas with us when he got an unexpected visit from his fiance”

You breathe deeply, knowing where this is going. Wanda still won’t look at you, and she takes a moment to continue.

“Uhm. So, yeah. The minute I saw them together I wanted to scream, but all I could do was hide. I felt like such an idiot. He didn’t even try to find me and apologize. And for a few weeks I was… sick. I threw up every morning, and felt tired. But I thought it was stress”

“Wanda, I’m so sorry” you say, pulling her close and kissing her temple. She leans against you, letting your touch ground her. Wanda’s hand goes to hold your own, and you squeeze it, trying to show your support.

“When I realized what it was, I tried talking to him. I thought he at least deserved to know. But he just wanted to give me some money to deal with it, in his words”

Those words make your heart ache, but you grit your teeth. You admire Pietro’s self control more than ever.

“I’m gonna need you to give me a name so I can find him and kill him”

“I let that go, for my sake. I had two babies to care for. No matter how it happened, I knew I always wanted them. So I told my parents everything and then Pietro, well…”

“He went crazy, I can imagine. Can’t really blame him”

“So, now you know it all. I still have things to figure out, because sometimes the kids ask me about their father and I don’t know how to tell them he never cared about us” she sighs, leaning against you.

“We’ll figure it out together, when the time comes” you promise, kissing her cheek. “And you don’t have to be afraid of me judging you, you did nothing wrong, Wands. I’m so sorry you had to go through that”

“I just thought… I wanted you to know”

“Did you ever see him again? I mean, does he even know their names?”

“No, and I hope it stays that way. If he comes back, I don’t want him anywhere near Tommy and Billy” her voice shakes with emotion, and a bit of her accent comes back.

“That’s ok. We won’t let it happen” you promise, kissing her temple.

“I love you”

“I love you too. And our boys”

“And our dog” she says, which makes you look back at her. She smiles at your shocked expression. “We’re keeping Sparky. No further comment”

“Yes, Ma’am”

—

The twins couldn’t believe it when Wanda told them they could keep Sparky. Pietro smiled as the kids hugged their mother, promising to always take care of him.

“You’re the best mom ever!” Tommy says, running around the living room.

“You’re welcome” Pietro mocks as he walks past her, and she elbows him.

You spend the evening watching a movie in the living room, Sparky sitting between both boys.

The 36 hour shift, coupled with the work on the backyard leaves you exhausted, so 15 minutes into the movie you begin to fall asleep.

“Come on, sweetheart” Wanda says when your head keeps loling to the side. “You need to rest”

“No, but I wanna know what happens with Big Welder” you mumble. Wanda stands up, kissing your forehead and pulling you all the way to the stairs. After brushing your teeth and almost sleeping while standing up, you plop down in bed, taking everything off and deciding to sleep in nothing but your underwear.

“Very tempting” Wanda comments when she sees you.

“I thought you’d be watching the movie” you stretch, appreciating how Wanda’s eyes linger on your breasts.

“Uh, they started playing video games. So that was my cue to go” she crawls into bed with you, not ready to go to sleep but wanting to share some alone time. “Before I forget, who are you inviting for Thanksgiving?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, dinner. We’re having turkey, the Barton’s are stopping by…. You do know it’s this Thursday, right?”

“I haven’t had a Thanksgiving dinner in like 15 years”

“You’re kidding” Wanda says, and you shrug your shoulders.

“I started volunteering when I was 16 to avoid being home. And you know I rarely went back for that stuff. I think the most I’ve done is eat pizza with Darcy while we’re working”

“Well, Darcy should come too! Have her over, I only get to see her at the hospital”

“You sure?” you say, smiling nervously. All you know about holidays in the last decade has been the chaos of a hospital.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be great, you’ll love it” she promises, kissing you.

—

Chaos isn’t exclusive to the ER, it seems. You’ve had a busy morning, mowing the lawn, cleaning the deck and getting ready to set a large table for everyone who’s joining. To your annoyance, Pietro is using his bruised hand as an excuse to not help.

“You’re doing great” he gives you a thumbs up and you want to throw the broom straight to his head.

“You could help your sister in the kitchen” you say, wiping the sweat from your forehead and coming to look over his shoulder. “Tinder? Seriously?”

“Yeah, check this out” he says, showing you some of the matches he’s had.

“Oh, wow” you whistle at a picture of a blonde woman in a bikini. You’re about to comment something else when you hear a cough behind you. Of course, Wanda is staring, her signature head tilt letting you know you’re in danger.

“I mean, oh, wow, what a horrible, unattractive person. Blegh. So not my type” you say, pretending to gag.

“I’m only letting it slide because it’s Thanksgiving” she warns and you nod.

“Yes, love. I’m sorry”

Pietro snorts and you turn to slap the back of his head.

“Sestra, are you gonna let her do that to your brother?”

“Yes” Wanda says, leaning forward to snatch his phone. “Come help me in the kitchen. Now”

“You know, I’m twelve minutes older” he says as they go back inside.

Once you’re done with mowing and picking up the dry leaves, you set a table across the backyard and some lights for extra decoration. Hoping the kids won’t look, you set up a trampoline you know they’ve been asking for.

“Alright, come supervise” you ask Wanda, and for some reason the entire Maximoff entourage follows behind.

“It looks amazing!” she says, inspecting the lights you installed. “I love these”

“I know. I may have stalked your Pinterest board, @witchy16”

“Billy, look!” Tommy points at the trampoline, running to try it out, his brother close behind.

“Be careful” Wanda warns. “I’m not sure I love that”

“They can use it only when I’m around” you promise, turning to her. “That way I can get more alone time with my girl”

Wanda laughs, but the sound is drowned out by your lips on hers, and your hands travel south to squeeze her ass.

“I’m right here!” Pietro complains, which makes you smirk.

“I didn’t see you, sorry” Wanda says.

“I did” you smile, earning a slap on the shoulder from your girlfriend. Something pings in the kitchen, so she excuses herself.

“You know, we usually save the presents for last”

“What presents? This isn’t Christmas” you say.

“People give each other presents during Thanksgiving too. Isn’t it obvious? How do you give thanks to someone? You get them something” he insists, which makes you doubt yourself. Pietro leaves to join the twins on the trampoline.

Maybe he’s right. What if Wanda got you something and after everything she’s done to make sure you enjoy this holiday, you have nothing to give back.

Fuck.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you done in the backyard?” Wanda says when you walk in.

“I… yeah. Do you want me to do anything else?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just letting everything in the oven for now. Come sit” 

“Actually… I need to go check something” you lie, feeling awful about it. But you have to get her a present.

“At the hospital?”

“Yes. I won’t take long, I promise” you say when she looks disappointed. “I’ll be back in an hour and I’ll help with whatever’s missing” 

“I just want us to spend time together,” she smiles, taking your hands. You lean forward, kissing her. “Oh, and call Darcy, I just want to confirm she’s coming”

“Yes, my love” 

Pretending to be super calm, you walk to your car. You only let panic take over when you’re driving around, finding the traffic to be awful. Seems like people always leave everything for the last minute, and you hate yourself for not thinking about this sooner.

You can’t let Wanda down.

Darcy’s the only person who can help out, so you call her while you try to find a place to park.

“Hello”

“Hey. Wanda wanted to confirm you’re coming to dinner”

“I am, only for the amazing food. But the hospital will page me if there’s an emergency so don’t expect me to stay for long”

“Got it. By the way, did uh, your family happen to give each other presents during Thanksgiving?”

“No, they only get drunk and yell at each other. Why? Do I have to bring a present? Because then I’m out”

“No, that was just me being stupid, never mind. See you at seven”

You hang up, leaving the car to walk around the shops. Most of them are closed, because of course, it’s a holiday. The only places still working are supermarkets. So, what? Will you have to get your perfect girlfriend toilet paper and say “happy holidays”?

After walking down several blocks, you finally find a jewelry store open. 

“Welcome. How can I help you?” a woman says.

“Hi. I can’t believe you’re open at this time of day” you comment, looking around the store. Wanda never really wears bracelets, or earrings. Necklaces, yes. Though they’re always very discreet. 

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of people who have to buy a peace offering for the holidays” 

“Huh”

“Or last minute engagements” 

“Oh. That’s definitely not the case” you smile, and something behind the woman catches your eye. “That’s a nice pearl necklace”

The woman puts on her sales hat, telling you every detail about the very elegant, very real pearls and how it is an absolute must for any woman. It honestly doesn’t take a lot of convincing. It’s beautiful and you remember how Wanda mentioned she always wanted one, but considered it a bit of a silly expense with two kids and no real use for it.

“I’ll take it” 

“You don’t want to look at the price?”

“I imagine it’s those four figures there”

“Yes”

“Yeah. That’s fine. I’m a trauma surgeon” you explain with a smile, feeling a little smug. 

“She’s a lucky lady”

You don’t really agree, considering this is very last minute. For the twins, you decide to take some of the Christmas presents you started to buy for them and store at your house.

And as much as Pietro annoys you, you’ll have to get him something too. 

Looking at the time, you decide to keep shopping for a bit longer, hoping no one notices if you’re gone too long. 

Wanda definitely notices. By the time you come back home, you’re sneaking around with a few boxes but she comes out of the kitchen.

“Where have you been?” 

Her tone makes you jump, and you look at her with wide eyes.

“I…”

“Doesn’t matter. I need you to go to the supermarket and get me some boxes of mac and cheese for all the kids. And a few bottles of wine, in case Laura and Clint stay longer” 

“Ok” you say, wishing she had called you since you were around the supermarket not long ago. 

By the time you finish all her errands, it’s four and you’ll only have an hour or two to rest. 

“Hey, here’s everything you asked for” you greet with a smile, hoping Wanda is less stressed now.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I think the Bartons aren’t even staying for dinner so I made you go for no reason, I’m sorry”

“It’s ok” you say, putting your arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

“I want this to be perfect. For you to know that having a family is nice so you won’t…” she trails off, trying not to look at you.

“So I won’t, what?”

“So you won’t leave. It’s silly”

“Hey, I’d never leave… sorry” you grumble, looking at your phone and ignoring the call.

“If you need to pick up...”

“It’s just my landlord asking about the lease renewal” you roll your eyes which makes her laugh. “As I was saying, I don’t need a perfect Thanksgiving as a reason to stay. I love you. That’s it”

“I love you too” she smiles, leaning forward to kiss you. With your hands on her cheeks, you deepen the kiss, enjoying how she sighs against your lips when your tongue darts out. Then, your hands travel south to squeeze her ass, encouraging her to put her legs around your waist. 

“Hey, can we…? Ugh, not again” Pietro says, covering his eyes. “We’re thirsty”

Without dropping Wanda, you go through the stuff in the fridge and hand him some drinks.

“We’ll be upstairs, don’t go up in… 20 minutes” you say, making Wanda giggle.

“You guys are gross,” Pietro complains, crashing against the table as he keeps his eyes closed.

“Come on, let’s make those 20 minutes count” you say, carrying Wanda to the bedroom.

—

The Bartons arrive at 7, just like Wanda told them to. Sparky is the main attraction, as all the kids coo and aw at the funky little dog that loves all the attention.

“Pietro, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you” Laura says.

“Only good things, I hope”

“That must have been a short conversation” you laugh at your own joke, while Pietro glares.

The kids run around the yard as Laura and Wanda chat, Clint handing over Nathaniel to you while Pietro talks about his job.

Darcy shows up a little later, and you make your rounds, introducing her to everyone that hasn’t met her yet. 

“You again” she says when her eyes land on Pietro. 

“What? You’ve heard a lot about me too?” 

“Yeah, mostly bad shit”

“Bad word” all the kids turn to point at her, and she facepalms.

“Fuck”

“Two bad words!” Cooper says. Laura covers Lila’s ears, though she is laughing. You clasp your hands over Darcy‘s mouth because you know she can keep going forever.

“Kids, have you tried going on our brand new trampoline? You can take Sparky with you” that gets them distracted enough, running away to the backyard. “There. Don’t worry, it took me a minute to get used to the no swearing”

“This is why I don’t hang out at PG-13 events. Anyways, I brought some stuff to make pumpkin cocktails and guacamole. Help yourselves” Darcy says, holding a bag of tortilla chips.

“Nobody eats guacamole at Thanksgiving” Pietro says. 

“They do if they’re Mexican. We can pretend. I’ll call you Pedro all night long” Darcy says just to annoy him. “Plus, this is all I can make” 

“Are all surgeons bad cooks?” Wanda teases, and you’re dumb enough to answer honestly.

“Not all! Carol is actually a great… huh” you scratch the back of your neck at Wanda’s glare. 

“Someone’s in trouble,” Pietro guesses.

“Yeah” Wanda tilts her head, making you smile weakly. 

“I’m making cocktails” Darcy interrupts everyone, dragging you to the kitchen. For a while, you talk about some patients that arrived during the day, but it was still a strangely calm shift at the hospital. It was usually busy during dinner or after that some people got injured, while driving back home. 

“Take this to Wanda, that will make her forget that Carol comment” 

Approaching slowly, you put the drink in front of your girlfriend, who takes a sip and then coughs.

“Wow, what is this?” she laughs, the alcohol strong enough to knock her off her feet.

“A fire hazard” Clint comments, able to smell it across the table. Still, Wanda sips on the drink and nods, enjoying the taste.

“Go easy, Miss Maximoff” you joke, which makes her smile.

“I still remember why I’m mad at you”

“Then forget what I said, take these like tequila shots”

“Carol is an ex,” Pietro says, putting together the information. 

“As in Carol Danvers? Nice” Clint comments, earning a slap on the arm by Laura.

“Thread carefully” 

“Ah, jeez. Look what you made me do” Clint laughs, looking at you.

“Pumpkin cocktail for Laura coming right up”

“I’ll bring it, I have to check the turkey” Wanda says, slightly slurring her words. 

“If you go anywhere near the oven, leave that thing here” Clint points out, not wanting to put out fires on his day off.

You take Wanda’s place, sipping casually on the rest of her drink. Everyone stares as you don’t even make a face to the amount of alcohol on it.

“We’ve known each other since college” you explain. ”So this is just like drinking water”

While you keep chatting in the backyard, Darcy and Wanda are both in the kitchen, your friend making herself a drink while Wanda turns off the oven to get the turkey ready.

“Want another cocktail?” she says, pushing a glass towards Wanda. The woman grabs it, sipping again. The sweet taste of the pumpkin hides a bit of the alcohol, so the punch isn’t hitting quite yet. 

“Listen, I know your brother already gave my friend the shovel talk” 

“Really? When?” Wanda says, a little too loudly. 

”Back in the hospital. And I had to hold off on mine because you were always in my territory and I didn’t want to seem like a bully. However, now is the time to tell you… she’s my best friend, has been since college. Life hasn’t been particularly fair and her mother certainly didn’t help, though I’m sure she’s made it seem like no big deal, but Y/N really does deserve someone nice and kind. So don’t break her heart. Under any circumstance”

“I’m not planning to, Daisy” Wanda nods her head, her thoughts a little fuzzy.

“Nobody plans to hurt someone they love. And I’m Darcy”

“I’m a little drunk” Wanda clicks her tongue, leaning on Darcy as they go back to the backyard. 

“Everything ok, love?” you say when Wanda comes back, and to your surprise, she sits on your lap instead of a chair.

“These things are strong. A couple more and I’ll consider doing that thing you wanted to try in bed”

“Oh, dear God” you blush, while Clint, Laura and Darcy whistle. Pietro covers his ears, gagging. “No more cocktails for you… at least with the kids around”

The Bartons stay a little while longer, eating and drinking until Lila and Cooper approach Clint.

“Can we get a dog?”

“That’s our cue to go” he sighs, standing up.

“Please, we want one!” Lila insists, and you laugh at Clint’s defeated expression.

“We’ll see” he compromises. “Come on, we gotta stop by at your grandparents”

They leave, thanking you for the food and you promise to take the twins and Sparky to play at the farm very soon.

Pietro finally gets off his ass to bring the turkey, which looks absolutely delicious. He carves it, saving the biggest piece for his sister.

“I love Thanksgiving” you say, enjoying what’s probably the best meal you’ve ever had.

“Me too” Darcy agrees, getting seconds and thirds of everything. Truth be told, you never get to sit around and eat as much as you like so this is a total luxury for a workaholic doctor.

As you’re finishing up, Wanda takes out a pecan pie. 

“I’m in heaven” Darcy comments upon the first bite.

On the other hand, you cannot hold back a moan, which makes Wanda bite her lip, one of her hands going to squeeze your thigh. 

“Hey, quick question, will you marry me?” Darcy says to Wanda and you elbow her.

“Right in front of my pecan pie?”

“I’m just saying, if you don’t, I will”

“She better get a ring then” Wanda says, smiling at you. Your mind goes back to the woman at the shop, telling you about those last minute engagements.

Surprisingly, Pietro is the one that changes the subject.

“You know what I always find funny? How the flavor makes my throat all tingly. And my tongue numb”

Everyone looks at him in silence, until Darcy speaks.

“That’s an allergic reaction”

“What? No” Pietro dismisses her point.

“It is” you insist, which earns another hand gesture from the man. “Oh, you’re right, what do we know? We only went to medical school”

“You’re so dumb” Wanda says, laughing and holding her sides. “You’ve been allergic our whole lives? Oh, my God!”

“Very funny, sestra. But now you can’t make this anymore”

“Hey, eat a granola bar or something” Darcy snaps, getting a second slice. “Why should we pay the price for your weakness?”

“Let’s finish the pie so he doesn’t get an allergy” you tease.

Darcy and you keep eating while Pietro is instructed to clean up the table and load the dishwasher. As the celebration ends, Darcy goes back home with tons of leftovers.

“I’ll walk you out ” you say, accompanying your friend. As you’re chatting, your phone rings again.

“Your mother?” Darcy guesses when you ignore the call. You click your tongue, putting the phone back in your pocket. “Let me guess, she’s calling for the usual wish you were here bullshit while never calling in advance”

“Yeah, that’s our thing. This year I’m not in the mood to do it, though”

“Well, she’ll hopefully get the hint” Darcy’s pager goes off and she sighs. “There it is”

“Want me to tag along?”

“It’s fine. I’ll call if it gets too crazy. Bye, pal”

You wave as she drives away, walking back with Sparky. For a second, you feel guilty and think about calling your mother back, but this day has been perfect and you don’t want to ruin it.

“Hey, kiddos, did you have fun?” you ruffle Tommy’s hair when you get home, getting Sparky his dinner.

“Yeah, it was awesome!”

“Well, you better check your rooms because I got you a little present”

As usual, Tommy is faster, but Billy is right behind him, both of them shouting excitedly.

“What is all that noise?” Wanda says, alarmed.

“Just following tradition” you explain with a smile, waiting for the kids to open their presents.

“What tradition?” Wanda says, looking confused.

“Thanksgiving presents”

Then you hear it. Pietro snorts a laughter from his spot in the kitchen.

Motherfucker.

“I’m gonna kill you, Evil Twin” you say, going straight to where he’s standing. Pietro runs around the kitchen island, putting distance between you two.

“Stop it, you two!” Wanda says, hands on her hips.

“Sorry, love. But he’s got it coming” you throw a towel his way, and take advantage of the distraction to jump over the counter, falling on top of him.

“Cool!” Billy says, watching as you have Pietro in a headlock.

“How are you so strong?” he complains, unable to free himself.

“I’m in the ER, do you really think I don’t have to deal with drunk assholes?”

“Enough!” Wanda shouts, pulling you by the belt loop of your pants until you’re off balance. “Explain” she asks standing between you two.

“He told me you gave each other presents during Thanksgiving!”

“We love ours!” Tommy says, showing the stands for their controls. You smile, fixing your shirt.

“Well, you’re the only ones getting one. Your uncle is definitely not”

“You got me something?”

“Yes, and it was a damn good present” you smile, knowing the curiosity will drive him crazy.

“Come on, can I have it?”

“No” Wanda and you say at the same time.

You make fun of him, and then Wanda tilts her head.

“Did you get me something?”

“Of course I did” you pat the back of your jeans, finding the necklace box there. “Here”

Wanda’s eyes widen as soon as she opens it, her hand covering her mouth.

“What? You don’t like it? I can return it. Or maybe I can’t. But you don’t have to wear it” you rant, afraid that it’s too much for a tradition that isn’t even real.

“Sweetheart, stop” she says, smiling. “I-I love it. Thank you”

“Well, I love you” you lean forward, letting her kiss you. Billy and Tommy protest at the contact, something that they have unfortunately picked up from their uncle.

“Can I have my present? Please?” Pietro says.

“No, wait until Christmas” you say.

“And for this little joke you’re gonna clean the kitchen” Wanda says, pointing at all the dirty pots and pans.

“My joke got you a pearl necklace”

“Chop, chop, Pietro” she ignores him, pushing the kids upstairs so they can get ready for bed. “You two stink, go and take a shower”

“Where do you want me, Bossypants?” you joke, standing next to her.

“Mhm” she smiles, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “You like it when I’m bossy?”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Then go shower too. And stay in bed. You were running around all day”

“Wanna join me in the shower?”

“I’ll help Pietro clean. Or we’ll never hear the end of it” she says, smiling when you pull her close, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t be long”

By the time Wanda comes up, you’re asleep, wearing nothing but shorts and a t-shirt.

The gentleness of her lips against your neck wakes you up with a shudder, and you bring your hand to rub up and down her back.

“Are you done with cleaning?” you say, trying not to yawn. Wanda’s teeth, marking the spot between your shoulder and neck jolt you awake. “Baby?”

“You always give me so much. I want to thank you” she says, moving down your lap. You lean on your elbows, unsure if you’re understanding what she’s saying.

“Wanda?” you’re about to ask something else, but the words get stuck in your throat when you feel her rubbing her nose against your clit through your shorts. “I… uh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong” you say, having trouble breathing when she pulls down your shorts, revealing you’re not wearing any underwear.

“Perfect” Wanda smiles, leaning down. You can tell she’s hovering, teasing you with anticipation. Even when she kisses the inside of your thighs, it feels heavenly.

You make the mistake of looking down, and Wanda’s eyes meet yours. She has a predatory smirk on her face, one you’ve never seen before. She knows how much you want this, she can see it, smell it. You’re about to plead for her to continue when she goes down, tongue licking a strip down your center.

“Fuck” you say, your legs instantly going to close around her head. You’re so sensitive and she’s sucking on your clit with such abandonment. Wanda lets you ride her face, enjoying the feeling of your juices coating every inch of her chin.

When you’re close to coming, she manages to pull free of your hold, pushing her hair back. Her chest is heaving, face glistening with your arousal.

“Wha-“ she doesn’t let you finish, pulling down her own shorts, and crawling on top of you.

“I want you to come with me” she sighs against your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. Her pussy comes in contact with yours, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her wetness.

“Be quiet for me” she hisses, though there’s certain tenderness in her voice. Her palm covers your mouth, and Wanda only moves when you nod, pushing her hips against yours.

“Wanda” you plead, not knowing exactly what you’re after. Even though she’s also getting pleasure out of this, she’s still very much in control, keeping you steady as she rocks her hips, setting the pace.

As your breathing quickens, Wanda picks up the pace, and your arm snakes around her waist, pulling her closer until she drops her body on top of yours, moving and panting next to your ear.

“I’m close” you breathe, and the way she bites down your neck is what pushes you over the edge, letting out a groan and a string of curse words that would put your best friend to shame.

Wanda’s release follows, and you let her dig her nails in your shoulders as she comes. She relaxes against your chest, her heart slowing down as you run your hand up and down her back.

You don’t need to look to know there’s a mess of sheets and clothes around you. Wanda is too far gone to care, the intensity of her orgasm and the exhaustion of the day making her doze off.

“Can we make this into a tradition?” you whisper against her temple. She laughs, cuddling against your side.

“Totally”

—

Wanda: Hey

Y/N: Hey, gorgeous

Wanda: Miss you

Y/N: Miss you more.

Y/N: Thinking about that mindblowing orgasm too.

“Someone got laid for Thanksgiving” Carol reads over your shoulder and you huff.

“Mind your business, Danvers”

“Darcy said it was the best meal of her life. What do we have to do to get invited next year?” she says as you walk down the hospital halls.

“Go back in time and not sleep with me”

“Damn. Wanda’s still jealous? Would it change if I’m a married gal?”

“You set a date?” you stop Carol, excited to hear more.

“Your invitation should be in the mail soon”

“Congrats!” you smile, pulling her for a hug.

“There’s one more thing… I was wondering if you’d be my maid of honor…”

The request catches you completely off guard. Carol had been your friend since you arrived at the hospital, but considering everything that happened, you’d figure Maria wouldn’t be comfortable with that.

“I mean… I would love to, but Maria”

“She’s fine with it. Understands it was just a distraction”

“Aww, that makes me feel so special” you put your hands over your chest, sighing dramatically.

“You know what I mean” Carol says, making you walk to the ER. “So, you in? You’ll have to do dress fittings. Organize a bachelorette party. Make sure I’m there on time”

“Fine, yes. Oh, did I mention we got a dog?”

On the way to the ER, you show Carol a bunch of pictures of Sparky, and she’s still obsessing over his funky hair when you find Kate, finishing some charts.

“How was your night, Bishop?”

“A bit crazy. Some accidents on the road, and cuts with kitchen knives… but it’s been pretty quiet now”

Carol gasps and you want to scream.

“Don’t say the q word, Bishop” you plead.

“Why?”

Two ambulances park right outside and you nod towards them.

“That’s why”

True to the lore, the word quiet attracts a wave of emergencies and freak accidents that take up most of your shift.

That’s not what has you on the edge of a nervouse breakdown, though.

During your first break of the night, you answer a text from Wanda, telling her you’ll be sure to be there for Pietro’s dinner tomorrow, as he’s finally leaving on Monday morning.

No one ever leaves a voicemail so you check out the notification, and you wish you hadn’t.

“For someone who works in the ER, you sure as hell aren’t around for family emergencies” your mother says. “Well, it’s not really an emergency, but you get my point. We’re gonna be in town, Jane’s probably applying to Westview university next year. Call me when you can, it would help if you give us a tour around the city. And pick up the damn phone, it’s Thanksgiving”

Kate finds you in that moment, making you jump out of your seat.

“You wanted me to…”

“Follow up with the patient in 403, yes. I’m going out for a while. Call me if it’s urgent”

The first thing you want to do is throw your phone away, but you settle for walking to a nearby store, looking for a pack of cigarrettes and a lighter. If you didn’t have a shift to go back to, you’d certainly get a bottle of cheap booze.

As you sit on the sidewalk, your hands tremble when you light up a cigarrette. It’s been ten minutes and you’re through the third one when Darcy stops by.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Since you can’t find the strenght to explain it, you hand over your phone. Your friend physically recoils at the sound of your mother’s voice, that’s how much she dislikes her.

“I’m sorry” Darcy says, sitting next to you. “She might not even make time to see you, she’s probably just pretending, like with every holiday”

“It’s not just that, Darcy. What if Jane goes to Westview University? I’m going to… I’m going to be worrying about whether or not she’ll be around. If her daughter needs anything, she’ll call me, if something goes wrong and I don’t find a way to fix it immediately, I’ll be the screw up of a daughter who never cares about her family. I’m gonna have to move, there’s just no way I can…”

“Slow down” Darcy sits next to you, her hand on your shoulder. Her touch helps you stay calm, and you breathe slowly. “That’s a massive if. You don’t know if it’s happening. And we’re both very much aware that you could do everything your mother asks and it still wouldn’t be enough. Don’t let her control you”

“I don’t know how” you admit, your voice breaking down.

“That’s ok” Darcy pulls you in, hugging you. “We’ll figure it out. Or just take her to the nastiest places in town, she’ll never let Jane come here again”

You let out a laugh at that, wiping your tears.

“I love you, friend” you say, feeling exhausted.

“Ugh, you always get so emotional when that witch is lurking around. Careful or you’ll end up proposing to Wanda”

“I don’t want my mother anywhere near Wanda. If she says anything hurtful to her, I swear to God she’ll really regret the minute she pushed me out of her fucking insides”

“Damn, bitch, now that’s the fire I want to see in you” Darcy claps, pulling you up. “Come back inside. Heard it’s been non stop since your minion summoned the entire city”

“Yeah, she said the q word”

“Queef” Darcy sighs and you cackle.

“Sassy queef”

—

The last thing you want to do when your shift is over is have dinner and be social, but you promised Wanda.

So you walk through the door with a smile on your face and some flowers for your girlfriend. Wanda greets you with a kiss, but quickly pulls apart.

“Did you smoke?”

“Uh…”

Seems like the entire pack of gum after smoking for the last 48 hours didn’t do the trick.

“Yes, sorry. I’ll go use some mouthwash and change clothes”

“Hold on” Wanda pulls your hand, looking at you. “What’s wrong? You only smoke if you’re stressed”

“Sestra!” her brother calls, and you’re actually grateful for the interruption.

“I’ll tell you later. Pietro needs your help”

Thankfully the conversation centers on the other Maximoff and his plans for the upcoming weeks, now that the conditions seem more favorable for snowboarding.

You ask a question here and there, but mostly keep to yourself, eating the chicken paprikash and drinking wine. Yeah, you definitely drink a couple of glasses to keep your cool.

If Wanda notices, she keeps it to herself once again.

“Well, sounds like you’ll be needing a pair of brand new gloves” you say to Pietro at one point, taking out a box from behind the tv. “Hidden in plain sight”

“She’s a keeper!” he exclaims when he notices the fine material. “I’m definitely coming back for Christmas now”

“Hey, you better get me something nice too”

You’re halfway the second bottle of wine when everyone’s done with dinner, and the kids are debating between going for ice cream or watching a movie. It’s safer to stay in the kitchen, cleaning everything and hoping you can excuse yourself early.

Truth is, you really want to drink until you pass out but that would raise too many questions with Wanda.

“They settled on Jumanji” Wanda announces when you’re drying your hands.

“Mmkay. I’ll take Sparky out for his walk then” you volunteer, rushing to get his leash before she can ask anything else.

The cold air makes you sober up a little, remembering what Darcy told you.

Don’t let her control you, don’t let her ruin your life.

You’ve told Wanda your relationship with your mother is not the best, but how could you possibly explain that’s a wild understatement?

“Isn’t that the cutest dog?” Agatha greets Sparky, who wags his tail. “What’s their name?”

“Sparky”

“Oh, wow” Agatha waves her hand in front of her nose. “Booze and cigarrettes, did you have fun at the casino?”

“Uh…”

“Come on, I’ll get you a special tea. It always helps”

She rushes you to her porch, making you sit while Sparky is on your lap, comfortably napping.

“One cup of “specialty”. Hah! Get it? Special tea, specialty”

“Very clever… oh, wow! Does this have peppermint?”

“Yes, clever girl”

“My grandmother grew peppermint on her front yard. I always loved the smell of it… even the taste when she made tea” you smile, sipping slowly.

“Everything ok, kiddo?” she asks after a beat of silence.

“No, not really”

“Well, I’m here if you want to…” your neighbor says, petting Sparky.

“I mean, thank you, but I feel like I don’t have a lot of people to tell this to, without being judged. Because you know what it is? I fucking hate my mother, Agatha”

To your surprise, the woman let’s out a loud laugh.

“Oh, honey, please. Tell me about it. My mother was a witch”

“Is that figuratively or…”

“I mean, who knows. She was evil, that’s for sure” Agatha rolls her eyes, and then looks at you. “Yeah, I get it. Most people say that you have to love your family, just because you share blood. Blood is thicker than water, they say. Meanwhile, they don’t know the full phrase is the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb”

“Is that so?”

“Trust me, I know” Agatha nods. “My mother would tell me I was evil, I was bad. Just rotten to the core, in her own words.”

“I’m so sorry”

“Darling, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. You have your own family with the Brady bunch over there.”

“I guess a part of me still believes she’ll apologize”

“Don’t hold your breath. And if she doesn’t, it still doesn’t mean you did something to deserve her shit”

“Thank you, Agatha”

The woman pats your leg, smiling.

“My love, are you coming back to bed?” a voice says from the inside of her house and you almost snap your neck looking back.

“Coming, Rio”

“I had no idea I was interrupting, I’ll leave right now” you stutter, carrying Sparky down the steps of the woman’s porch.

“Don’t sweat it, hot stuff. She needed a break after everything we just did” Agatha winks.

“Good talk, bye Agatha, bye Rio” you wave your hand, running back home all flustered.

The kids are with their uncle watching tv when you go inside. You let Sparky go so he can sit on the couch with them, and go upstairs to get changed and sleep.

Once you’re settling in bed, Wanda pushes the door open, eyeing you curiously.

“Sweetheart” is all she says. It’s both a question and an affirmation.

“It’s been a long day” you admit, too tired to pretend you’re ok, but also not in the mood to explain everything.

Maybe your mother won’t even come, and you’ll have shown Wanda how broken and fucked up you are for no reason. She doesn’t need to know it. Not now, at least.

“Let me help” she offers, climbing on your lap, kissing every inch of your face. You hold on to her waist, digging your fingers in her flesh. “I love you”

“I know. I love you too” you smile, finally connecting her lips with yours. She’s meant to comfort you with her touch, not wanting to start something else, because everyone’s downstairs. But when you swipe your tongue across her bottom lip, Wanda lets out a groan, nails scrapping your scalp as you deepen the kiss.

“Please” you say, switching positions so she’s on her back, you on top. You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but she can sense your desperation, holding on to your shoulders.

“It’s ok. I’m here. Use me, love. Take me”

Those words spurr you on, making you go down to kiss her neck, unbuttoning her shirt and leaving a trail of marks all the way to her hips. You desperately pull at her pants, immediately going down on her, your touch impatient as Wanda covers her mouth to keep quiet.

“Please” she manages to ask, and you give her more, stretching her with two of your fingers. “More”

You’re happy to comply, adding another digit and working them in and out of her clenching cunt, while you go back to meet her lips in a messy kiss.

“I fucking love you” you say against her mouth, and that sends Wanda over the edge, arousal gushing out of her with each of your final thrusts.

“I was… supposed to make you feel better” she says, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh, trust me. You did”

Wanda laughs, looking at you lovingly while you kiss her temple.

“I love you too” she says when your lips meet hers for a quick kiss.

“I know. I’m very lovable”

Her laugh makes you forget all the bad shit you’ve been carrying with you for the last day and a half.

—

“Take care, brat” Wanda says, her arms going around her brother. “See you soon”

“Yes” he then says something in Sokovian, making Wanda laugh.

“Do you guys know what they’re saying?” you approach Billy and Tommy.

“No, mama hasn’t taught us any Sokovian”

“We think it’s so they can say bad words without getting caught”

“Huh”

“What is all that mumbling I’m hearing?” Wanda says, making you stand straight.

“Nothing” the three of you say at the same time, making her laugh.

“Relax, sestra. You two, be good while I’m gone. And if you’re not good…”

“Be careful” they finish the sentence, laughing.

“And you…” Pietro points at you. Wanda is about to intervene, thinking he’s about to give you another shovel talk. but you wink at her, smiling. “Welcome to the family”

“Thank you, Evil Twin. See you at Christmas”

“You’re dressing up as Santa this year” he says in a low voice and you laugh.

The man gets in his car, waving goodbye one last time.

“Alright, you two, we’re gonna be late for school” Wanda says, and the routine slips you back to reality.

“Hey” you say, pulling her close to you. Before she can answer, you kiss her, hands on her cheeks. She squeezes your wrists, smiling. “Do I really have to be Santa?”

“We’ll see” she laughs, kissing you once again. “Come on. We got a busy day ahead of ourselves”

You smile, letting her take you back home.

Whatever happens next, you just need Wanda to get through it.

[starsjulia]

labour // leah williamson

a/n : i giggled a lot writing this.

warnings : none really, set in a hospital, reader being gobby

Leah was ready for anything. At least, that’s what she’d been telling herself for nine months. She’d read books, watched videos, and even gone to a birthing class where she’d accidentally fainted during the “miracle of life” video. But now, with you gripping her hand like you were trying to crush her metacarpals, she realized nothing could have prepared her for this.

“You’re doing amazing,” Leah said softly, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“shut the fuck up you evil woman,” you growled, your head snapping toward her with the intensity of a woman possessed. “one more bloody ‘you’re doing amazing, and i’m going loose it”

Leah blinked. “Alright, cool, cool, cool. I’ll just… stop talking.”

“Good idea,” you hissed, then immediately let out a pained groan that shook the room.

The midwife, a chipper woman who apparently didn’t fear death, tried to help. “Let’s focus on breathing—”

“Don’t you start with the breathing! I AM BREATHING, AREN’T I?!”

Leah glanced at the midwife apologetically. “She’s normally lovely. I promise.”

“Don’t you dare apologize for me!” you barked. “You did this to me, you fucking cunt! You and your stupid, sexy smile!”

Leah couldn’t help but smirk. “You think my smile is sexy?”

“NOT THE TIME”

An hour later, you were in what the midwife called “active labor” and what you called “the seventh circle of hell.” Leah, to her credit, was trying to keep it together, but you weren’t making it easy.

“How about I go stand up front with the midwife?” she suggested, trying to be helpful. “You know, cheer you on from the sidelines—”

“ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY NOT!” you yelled, grabbing her wrist then smacking her arm with surprising strength for someone in so much pain. “YOU ARE STAYING BACK HERE, WITH YOURE WIFE. I can feel my fanny ripping in half, ain’t no way in hell your seeing that”

Leah blinked, torn between amusement and terror. “Babe, that’s not—”

“NOT TAKING ANY BLOODY CHANCES!”

“Alright,” Leah muttered, holding her hands up. “I’ll just stay here then.”

“Good,” you snapped. Then, as another contraction hit, you added, “But you’re still not getting sex for a year. Minimum.”

Leah gasped in mock horror. “A YEAR?!”

“Maybe two! Depends on how long it takes me to forget THIS,” you shouted, gesturing wildly to your entire body before screaming in agony once again.

“Didn’t you say earlier that you’d forget everything once you saw the baby’s face?” Leah asked you.

You leveled her with a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through steel. “FORGET WHAT I SAID EARLIER! one more word from you woman and i’m getting a divorce.”

By hour nine, the room had descended into chaos. You cussing out at everyone in sight, including the poor anesthesiologist who had tried to offer you an epidural.

“I don’t care if it’s late in the game!” you shouted. “Stick the bloody needle in my spine, you fucking COWARD!”

The anesthesiologist froze.

Leah quickly intervened. “She doesn’t mean that.”

“I MEAN EVERY WORD!”

“She’s in pain,” Leah added, patting his arm. “She called me a ‘stupid, gorgeous twat’ earlier. It’s just how she expresses love.”

The anesthesiologist looked unconvinced but did as you asked, and for the first time in hours, you seemed to relax.

“Thank God,” you muttered, leaning back against the pillows. Then, turning to Leah, you added, “Don’t get comfortable. I’m still mad at you.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the midwife smiled. “Alright, one more big push!”

“One more?” you snarled. “THAT’S WHAT YOU SAID THREE PUSHES AGO, JANET!”

“Her name is Emma,” Leah whispered.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT HER NAME IS!”

Leah bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Alright,” the midwife—Emma—said patiently. “Let’s do this together. Big push!”

With a guttural scream that would’ve put banshees to shame, you gave one last push, and suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of a baby’s cry.

“She’s here!” Leah exclaimed, tears streaming down her face as the midwife placed the tiny, squirming bundle on your chest.

You stared down at your daughter, your entire world shifting in an instant. “Oh my God,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes. “She’s perfect.”

“She is,” Leah agreed, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“She’s also loud,” you added. “Definitely gets that from you.”

“Oi!” Leah protested, but her grin gave her away.

Later, as your daughter nursed contentedly, you looked at her with a soft smile. “You know,” you said, stroking her tiny hand, “your muma is going to be so jealous. You’ve stolen her favorite spot.”

Leah gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Innocent ears! Did you just tell our newborn daughter about—”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “And she’s got a right to know.”

Leah shook her head, feigning devastation. “I can’t believe you’d corrupt her like this. On her first day. What kind of example are you setting?”

From the corner of the room, Leah’s mum, who had been quietly observing the whole thing, finally spoke up.

“Right, well,” she said, smirking, “this has been the most entertaining day of my life.”

You groaned, burying your face in your free hand. “Oh, God. You’re still here.”

“Still here,” her mum confirmed, grinning. “And I can’t wait to tell this story at Christmas.”

Leah burst into laughter while you muttered something about filing for divorce.

That night, as you lay in bed with your daughter snuggled between you and Leah, you sighed.

“I guess I forgive you,” you murmured.

“For what?” Leah asked, her voice soft.

“For putting me through hell today.”

Leah grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Does this mean the sex ban is off?”

You shot her a look. “Don’t push your luck, Williamson.”

[wqnwoos]

vernon prods a finger against your side when you stretch out and groan miserably on the bed beside him. you don’t respond, and he does it again, and again, and again, until you finally open your eyes and scowl at him.

he meets your frown with an innocent smile. “what’s wrong?”

even the question is reminder enough, and you let out another grunt of discontent. “i have to go out later tonight.”

your boyfriend tilts his head to the side. “have to?”

“i don’t know. i agreed last week, but now i’m like, so out of it. i don’t have the energy.”

vernon himself can vouch for that. he saw the look in your eyes when you got home from work, saw the way you dragged your feet and spaced out a little too often.

he doesn’t say any of that, just lifts a hand to your forehead. “oh, no,” he says, incredibly monotone. “you’re burning up.”

you twist to raise your brows at him. “but i feel fine?”

he shrugs, purses his lips. “yeah, no. definitely burning up. feels like you’re incredibly unwell to me.”

it clicks for you then, and the smallest of smiles graces your lips. “oh, you think so?”

vernon nods. “i know so. i don’t think you can even consider going out.”

playing along, you pick up your phone. “oh, shit. better let jinsoul know i’m super ill, i guess.”

his hand trails down from your forehead to pinch your nose, and then he stretches the arm over your waist, tugging you closer. “i guess so.” there’s a pause, as you both shift, his nose finding its usual spot, buried in your neck. “or,” he begins, muffled against your skin, “if it’s jinsoul, you could just let her know. that you’re not up to it today. she’d get it.”

you sigh. “yeah. yeah, you’re right, she would.” and you type out an explanatory message to your best friend as vernon traces light, swirling patterns on the exposed skin of your stomach from your rucked-up t-shirt.

when it’s done, you cast your phone to the side, both of you snickering a little when you accidentally fling it a little too far and it sails on to the floor.

“better?” vernon asks quietly, still tracing his fingers over your warm skin. “now that you don’t have to go?”

you hum. “a little. just one of those days, you know? feel like i hate everybody in the world.”

you hear his smile more than you see it. “oh? everybody?”

“yeah, everybody,” you confirm, but you’re smiling again, hiding it in his t-shirt. “everybody except one.”

an / another one already. WHO IS SHE!!

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud

@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao

@smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee

@kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager

@qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng

@strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

@iamawkwardandshy

@twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere @pearlesscentt

@sourkimchi @porridgesblog @ourkivee

[mallowsweetmiri]

I am foaming at the mouth after Potter!Reader x Remus. Like I’m literally obsessed, perfect characterisation.

I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if you are, would you mind doing a part 2? Maybe more of them sneaking around or James finding out or something I don’t know.

Secret Potter!reader x Remus pt 2

Summary: Remus can’t stop thinking about you, you can't stop kissing him, and Theodore Pompous needs to hide from James

Warnings: smutty, mentions of consent, slight corruption kink

Word count: 3.5k

—————————————————————————

Remus woke up the next morning and sat up in his bed for a full minute thinking, what the fuck have I done? He had fucked his best friend's little sister, and the worst part was, he wanted to do it again. Remus rubbed over his eyes as he got up to use the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and tried to justify what had happened. It wasn't his fault that you teased him all weekend- with a surprising amount of stealth considering James was almost always around the two of you- and then made him feel your soaking panties when he tried to ask for your consent.

"Jesus fucking christ," Remus cursed, grabbing the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. He had to get a grip. By the time he had brushed his teeth, showered, and gotten dressed, it was lunch hours. Remus and the marauders strutted cheerfully down to the Great Hall, despite being at a party the night before. This was routine. Soon they'd be scarfing their faces with toast and sausage and sandwiches.

You had woken up a few minutes later and ended up walking to the Great Hall with Marlene and a few other girls. You were mildly hungover, though by this hour, you were ready to eat. When you walked through the doors, you spotted Remus immediately. He was already watching you as you walked towards the table, sitting down next to James as you did every morning.

"Mornin'," James greeted you, smiling through a mouthful of toast. You raised your brows and tried not to laugh for two reasons. James was staring at you like an idiot, and Remus was staring at your tits.

"Good morning," you laughed, hiding the smile on your lips. You started to fill your plate, intentionally looking away from Remus. He seemed to be nervous. Then you felt James fingers pull back your hair away from your neck.

"Y/N, do you have a hickey on your neck?" James sputtered, moving in closer to stare at it. Your eyes shot up to Remus who was currently looking away from you and your brother.

"So what," you scoffed, fussing his hand away. "You're the one who reminded me of my crush on Theodore. Now you're mad at me for it?"

Remus had to admit, you were a quick thinker. James' face turned a violent shade of red as he shot up to locate Theodore Pompous at the Ravenclaw table. When Remus met your eye, the two of you almost burst out laughing at James' reaction before you sprung up to grab his arm.

"James," you scolded, trying to stifle a laugh. "Seriously, stop. You can't just berate Theodore. That's so rude and there's no reason to." James shook his head at you with an incredulous look.

"No reason-"

"James," Marlene shouted, standing up as well. "Stop it. All of us are tired of you being such a dick to Y/N. You don't see her reacting like this when you have a bit of fun." The other girls murmured in agreement as James' eye twitched.

"Yes, but thats different-"

"Why?" Marlene raised her brow, "Because she's a girl?" The was a series of oooh's and cackles from Sirius and Peter before James begrudgingly sat down and passed a dirty glance your way. At least he was settled for now. James wouldn't continue to press you with Lily and the other girls at your defense.

Lunch went on and Remus came to the conclusion that he was utterly obsessed with you. He wondered if you were still teasing him or if it was just your body taunting him as his eyes kept finding their way to your chest. You had always been drop dead gorgeous. This was fucked. There was no way he’d be able to keep his eyes from wandering to you, and there was even less of a chance that he’d be able to go to whole week without fucking you at least once. He tried to feel bad about it, but that wasn't the case. He wanted you, and there really wasn't anything that was going to stop him from seeing you again.

Remus decided to approach this logically. If he wanted keep fucking you, he'd have to court you. He wouldn't mind that. You enjoyed literature, you were funny, and you were one of the most talented witches in the school. And you were his best friends brother, if he wanted to fuck you today, he'd have to do it in secret to avoid an interfering and angry James.

That's why when he found you studying alone in the library that afternoon, he took the opportunity.

"Hello," Remus cleared his throat, approaching your desk. "Mind if I join you?" Your eyes peered up from your papers momentarily, just enough to acknowledge his presence.

"Sure," you hummed, dipping your quill in the inkwell. "As long as you don't distract me from my work."

Remus huffed out a laugh and pulled a chair up to your table. Even sitting down, his frame towered over yours. You tried to continue writing, but the task felt futile as his knee rested just inches from yours. You sighed and put your quill down, turning to face Remus. His face wore a smile as he threw his hands up in defense.

"Hey, I wasn't even doing anything," he chuckled, watching as you rolled your eyes. A smile crept up to your lips.

"Yeah, yeah, Remus," you grumbled. "Did you want to talk about something?" He huffed out another laugh and you felt his breath on your face, the close proximity making your stomach do a flip. In the low lighting, he looked heavenly.

"Yea, actually. I did want to talk to you about something," his voice lowering as he leaned in. You narrowed your eyes at him as the smirk on his face stayed put. He thought he was hot shit and maybe he was right about that, but you wouldn't let him play with you.

"Hmm, and what would that be?" you asked innocently, looking up at him with your signature doe eyes. He scoffed out a laugh.

"Well, love. To be honest, I can't stop thinking about you," he purred, his arm slinging over the back of your chair as he leaned in even closer. You stifled the urge to press your legs together as his hand played with the hem of your t-shirt, rubbing it in between his fingers.

"Can't stop thinking about how good the sex was?" You teased, leaning in with a mischievous lip bite. This made Remus laugh and you blushed at his genuine smile.

"Straight to the point then," Remus chuckled, looking around the library. "Listen, I don't want to be disrespectful-"

"Okay, let me cut you off right there," you said sternly, pushing your finger into his chest. "If you're going to be scared of my brother, then this isn't going to work. I'm looking for someone who will fuck me and not hold back. If you can't do that, then we shouldn't do this." You finished, turning back to sit properly in your chair. Remus' hand stopped you by the shoulder.

"Love, if I cared about your brother right now I wouldn't be here telling you how badly I need to fuck you again," Remus whispered quickly, his gaze dropping to your lips for a second. Your face flushed immediately as the want between your legs throbbed again.

"Oh," was all you could make out. His smirk annoyingly made another appearance as he chuckled lightly at you, again. His thumb rubbed over the cap of your shoulder as you looked at him with a permanent blush, your lips parted slightly. The smirk slowly faded off his face as he stared at you. He couldn't focus while you were looking at him like that. With that blush on your cheeks, and those plump, pink lips.

"So what's your plan then?" You said, snapping Remus out of his trance. He sat up straighter.

"Meet me in the prefect's bathroom at 9:30," he instructed, his hand moving off your shoulder as he stood up. You smirked up at him as he moved his chair back to the table next to yours.

"I'll be there," you replied, turning back to your notes.

"See you then," Remus smiled, leaving before he lost control and bent you over the table.

Later that night

You padded lightly through the hallways. Curfew wasn't for another 30 minutes, but you tried to stay quiet. Your body buzzed with excitement as you padded up the staircase to the fifth floor. It turned you on that Remus was using his prefect privileges to fuck you in private, and it turned you on even more knowing there was a giant bathtub in the middle of the room. You chuckled lightly to yourself as you came onto the floor, Remus leaning against the wall near the statue. His eyes found your hips as you approached him.

"Hi," you whispered, stepping softly towards him.

"Hi beautiful," he muttered, pushing off the wall to come towards you. You weren't expecting him to kiss you, so a gasp escaped you when he surged forward to press his lips against yours. He grabbed your cheeks to deepen the kiss hungrily. You moaned into him as your fists clasped the front of his shirt, his prefect badge moving with the fabric.

"We should go inside," you gasped, pulling away from his irresistible lips. He hummed in agreement, not quite looking at you. His hands were gripping tightly on your hips like they did the previous night, as if he could barely contain himself. It took a moment but Remus led you through the doors and into the bathroom, dimly lit from the moon and enchanted colored lights. You bit your lip as you watched the water run from the faucets and into the bath, filling the room with steam.

"Let's take this off," Remus purred, coming from behind to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh of relief as he sucked down on your sweet spot, his hands running under your shirt to lift it over your head. You happily obliged and felt Remus groan into your neck as he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You knew this would drive him crazy, and hearing him groan in your ear made you pool between your legs. He pulled your shirt off and spun you around, leaving no time before dipping down to kiss you again. You could hardly think as Remus wrapped his arms around your body, burying into the kiss like he didn't need air. It was mesmerizing, the way your body fit against his. The two of you kissed like that for a while, the steam eventually pooling over both of your skin. It took a few minutes for Remus to stop kissing you, humming multiple times into your mouth before he finally pulled away.

"Rem," you groaned, tugging on the buttons of his shirt to take it off. He was practically soaking through his shirt anyway.

"Let's get in the water."

The two of you stripped and sunk slowly into the bath, Remus' hands pulling you into his lap. When your backside made contact with him, you gasped. His length pressed against you and you were suddenly reminded of how he stretched you out last night. You were glad to be soaking in a hot bath. You barely had time for another thought when he connected his lips with your skin, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as he massaged your thighs.

"Fuck," you groaned as his hands came up to grasp your breast. He hummed in response and bit your earlobe, earning a roll from your hips. His fingers slipped down between your legs, teasing you gently.

"Y/N," Remus breathed, pausing his kissing and earning a hum from you in response. "I want to eat you out."

He didn't wait for your response as he lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the tub, dropping down to his knees and moving between your legs.

"Remus- oh," you moaned as his mouth connected with your clit. You instantly gripped his hair, your head thrown back in an intense wave of pleasure. Remus was making you feel good, and by the way he was groaning into your core and wrapping his hands around your waist, you were pretty sure he was enjoying himself too. You couldn't form words and ultimately found yourself on your back. Remus shifted up higher to kiss your clit deeper, his tongue licking and dipping into your core. His hands stayed put on your hips, his mouth working overtime to send you over the edge.

"Fuck, please Remus," you gasped, you legs locking over his shoulders and bucking up into his face. He only huffed in response as his hands snaked under your back, pulling you deeper into his mouth. You twitched in his grasp, an orgasm teetering as his tongue swiped over your clit.

"So close, Rem," you whine, gripping his curls tighter. Remus could feel you pulse under his tongue, and it took every ounce of control for him to pull away. "Wh-what?" you whine, immediately sitting up to see Remus. He sat there with his arms linked under your legs, his smirk covered in slick down to his chin.

"You want to come for me, Y/N?" Remus teased, leaving wet, open kisses on the inside of your thighs. You whined and he chuckled, looking up at you wickedly through his kisses. "Do you?" He prompted again, moving to the other leg. You groaned with desire.

"Yes, Remus. Please," you cried, tugging on his hair to come towards you again. He hummed out a chuckle into your skin.

"Tell me how badly you want it," Remus challenged you, moving his kisses closer to your center.

"Please, Remus. I want you so badly. I need you. So badly, Remus. Please," you whined, falling on your back and continuing to grasp at his head. You felt the vibrations of his chuckle next to your clit.

"Such a good girl," he mumbled, planting a kiss right onto you. You let out another guttural whine as he continued to tenderly lap at your clit and your entrance, slowly savoring your wetness. You felt your orgasm building once more, sending jolts through your body that increased in force with every movement of Remus' tongue. Your hips were bucking badly, and Remus tightened his grip on you to bury himself once again.

"I'm going to come," you gasped, barely lasting a second longer before spilling into his mouth. The intensity felt doubled this time, and Remus ate you up graciously. You were almost embarrassed by how hard your orgasm had hit you, but Remus didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was moaning into your core as he finished you up.

"You taste so fucking good," Remus groaned as he climbed over you, his tip pressing against your entrance and slipping in momentarily through the slick. You gasped and felt yourself clench around him, still sensitive from his mouth. Remus' hand found the back of your head as he pushed himself into you fully. You gasped and whined simultaneously, digging your nails into his biceps. "Fuck, Y/N. You feel even better." He began to move in and out of you at a torturous pace, his tip burying deep within you. Just when you thought he had bottomed out, he bucked into you with force and moved even deeper inside of you. You let out an unprompted noise which seemed to please Remus as he started pounding into you, forcing noises out of you that were uncontrollable.

"F-fuck, R-remus," you said, your words bouncing with the pace of his thrusts. It was unrelenting, but you were so soft from his mouth that you started to near another orgasm. Your fate was sealed when his thumb came down to find your clit, the pressure of his cock adding to the pleasure immediately.

"So pretty, Y/N," Remus moaned, dipping to press a kiss to your lips. You hungrily returned it, the two of you moaning into each other's mouths as Remus' thrust slowed and deepened. "So. Fucking. Beautiful." He pounded into you, clenching his jaw as he fucked the life out of you. You were tightening, and tightening, and tightening until the coil in your stomach snapped and a rush of release pulsed through your walls. Remus groaned loudly as you felt him collapse into you, his thrusts deep and followed by spurts of warmth inside of you. He thrusted into you lazily, kissing you and rubbing your hips with his thumbs. Like much of the night, the two of you stayed kissing unhurriedly like this. It was only when someone knocked on the door that the two of you moved from your position.

"Thank Merlin you locked the door," you muttered, pulling on your pants after casting a dryer spell over you.

"Heh, I actually didn't. It's just common practice after prefect rounds," Remus laughed sheepishly. "It must be the end of the next shift." Your eyes widened at this as the two of you finished pulling on your clothes and drying off perspectively. You kept close to Remus' back as the two of you moved to leave the bathroom. You heard Remus say something to the other prefect but you didn't look up as you followed Remus out. He ushered you towards the staircase and muttered in your ear, "That was Theodore Pompous." You stifled a laugh as the two of you climbed the stairs. Remus was grinning at the coincidence and teasing you about your old crush. The two of you laughed and blushed and talked quite comfortably next to one another as you neared the Gryffindor tower.

"Do you think anyone will be in the common room?" you asked, lowering your voice and letting go of his hand. Remus shrugged and walked behind you, guiding you to the portrait hole.

"I don't think so. There's an early quidditch practice tomorrow and it's already past curfew," he muttered, giving the fat lady the password and climbing through to the common room. Remus' face hardened when he saw James sitting on the couch, his head turned towards them. He stood up when he saw you enter behind Remus.

"Y/N, what were you doing out past curfew? I was worried. I waited up for you," James frowned at you, his eyes filled with genuine concern. You felt your face flush red, realizing why you were out late. You might as well have been wearing a sign that said we just fucked. Thankfully Remus was exceptionally good at drying charms. 

"I found her sneaking around Ravenclaw Tower," Remus said with a nonchalant nod of the head. "Thought I'd bring her back." 

"Wasn't your shift done thirty minutes ago?" James questioned, stepping closer to Remus who showed no signs of embarrassment or concern.

"Yes, but I told Theodore I'd take his shift in exchange for him doing mine on Sirius' birthday," Remus shrugged. Your mouth formed a straight line as you looked at him. Seriously? That's the best you can come up with? James looked at Remus incredulously.

"Why would you trade shifts with him," James hissed, narrowing his eyes towards him. You started to walk towards your dorm.

"Well, I'm back," you dismissed James with a yawn. "Goodnight, Jamie." James huffed and stepped in front of you, grabbing your hands.

"Y/N, you know I love and respect you," he stared, causing you to roll your eyes by instinct. "But I just want you to be safe. Don't stay out late for some prat who you've hardly even talked to before." You sighed as he looked at you with those James Potter eyes that reminded you of home.

"I know. I'm sorry I worried you," you apologized, looking sympathetically to him. "I'm gonna go to sleep now. Okay?" James let out a sigh of relief as he gave you a hug.

"Goodnight," James called as you went up the stairs.

"Goodnight," you called back, sending Remus a wave. Remus waved subtly back to you before sighing and rubbing his eyes. He hated lying to James, and he hated even more how much he felt like he was corrupting his best friend's little sister. He knew it wasn't true though. You had shown him how badly you wanted him, how much of a slut you were for him... Fuck. Remus wanted you for himself and he wanted you for a long time. He made a vow to ask you out by the end of the week, and to do it with James' blessing.

"Sorry I got a little heated, Moony," James said, turning to face Remus. "I just can't stand the thought of her alone with some random git. Thanks for bringing her back." Remus hummed and nodded.

"It's no problem."

The two of them went up to their dorm and crashed respectively onto their beds. Sirius and Peter were already asleep. Remus laid awake again thinking about you. He thought about your face when you came, and the way you blushed when he teased you. He fell asleep dreaming of you during the summertimes when you would read outside with him and woke up the next morning with a plan. 

[azzifuddslover]

off the court

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: angst, jealously

tw: swearing (i think that’s all?)

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i had fun with this chapter! excited to continue writing 😋 i had to ofc add the lil dijonai & lyss foul haha. also if u have any one shot suggestions please please lemme know! enjoy

CHAPTER TWO

“oh my goodness, hi!” nika pulled each one of the freshmen into a warm embrace. “we’re so excited to have you guys here!”

we? paige thought to herself, that she didn’t dare speak out loud.

“we’re excited to be here!” caroline smiled at the three older girls, as aubrey and azzi hugged.

paige purposefully put distant between herself and the curly headed brunette, not wanting to start arguments her first day.

“so, where do you guys wanna see next?” aubrey questioned, while paige remained silent, keeping to herself.

“you tell us,” ashlynn said, excitedly.

“alright,” nika slung her arm around paige’s shoulder, “let’s go show you the dorms then.”

as the seven girls made their way to the dorm rooms, azzi walked behind aubrey who led the way, while nika and paige placed themselves in the back.

“you good, p?” nika whispered, “it’s unlike you to be this quiet.”

paige plastered a smile on her face, “all good, nik.”

“no, seriously, what’s up?”

“i’m fine, really. just tired,” she reassured her close friend, gently squeezing her shoulder.

minutes later the girls arrived at the dorms when nika spoke up.

“i think it’s best to divide into groups so we can still get lunch. aubrey, show caroline and yanna your room, paige show azzi yours and i’ll show ash mine.”

of course nika would place azzi with paige. alone.

“um, i’ll take ashlynn,” paige suggested, but it was too late. ashlynn was already off with nika, aubrey was leading carol and yanna to her dorm.

azzi stood awkwardly in the hallway, eyes focused on the floor, as paige glanced once at her before taking off to her room.

“cmon,” she muttered, passing azzi.

azzi was hesitant to follow, but she did regardless, keeping her head low while nerves twisted in her stomach. azzi couldn’t remember the last time she was alone with paige, if ever. the pair have clearly never gotten along, so she was nervous to see where this would go.

paige opened the door to her dorm, that she shared with another teammate, dorka, who happened to be laying in her bed.

“hey dorka,” paige said, announcing her presence along with azzi’s.

“hey p,” dorka looked at her, then at the freshmen, “who’s this?”

“one of the new freshmen, azzi.”

dorka smiled at azzi in a reassuring manner, then pulled her in for a quick hug. “welcome to uconn, azzi!”

azzi gently hugged the older girl back, feeling less nervous with dorka being there. “happy to be here.”

“you’re going to love it. i’m a transfer, and its absolutely amazing. the girls are all so great, geno can be a bit tough, but he means well,” dorka explained.

azzi was genuinely excited for her start at university of connecticut. she’s always kept uconn as an option for her future school, and finally was able to commit just a few weeks ago. she figured it’d be the best fit for her, despite paige being here.

“well, i told lou i’d meet her in the dining hall, so i’ll catch y’all later,” dorka said, grabbing her bag and phone before quickly leaving.

the silent in the small dorm was haunting. paige’s eyes were focused on her phone, while azzi motionlessly stood against the wall, waiting for any sort of conversation.

“so, do you like it here so far?” paige asked, finally breaking the silence.

azzi looked over at paige, “it’s nice, yeah. the girls seem nice.”

“that’s good,” paige replied.

“are you excited to meet-“

“you don’t have to make small talk, paige. we both know you aren’t happy with me committing here,” azzi bite out.

paige scolded her eyes, “you’re right. i’m not happy with you being here. but i can’t change it, can i?”

“nope, you can’t. let’s just ignore each other like we’ve always have.”

secretly, paige didn’t want to ignore azzi. she couldn’t. but she pretended to did it anyway.

“fine by me,” paige shouted, walking towards the door.

“where are you going? this is literally your room!”

“anywhere else but here, with you. go catch up with nika or something,” paige muttered as she left, leaving azzi staring at the door.

it was the first day of practice with the new additions to the uconn team, and paige successfully avoided azzi at all costs. whenever the team got together, they’d always converse with other players, never daring to look each other’s way.

paige brought the basketball up the court during a 5v5 match. she directed the players on her team to her liking, then passed it to lou who made the open 3 shot. aubrey secured the rebound, threw it off to azzi, who began to bring it to the opposing net. paige, of course, was right on her heels, defending her. azzi noticed the blonde from the corner of her eye, looking unbothered as ever.

reaching the 3 point line with paige right there, azzi considers all the potential lanes to the basket. when nika, part of the opposing team, goes to defend aubrey, azzi sprints through an open lane, going for the layup.

paige was quick to notice her plan, though. she blocked the ball from entering the basket, hitting azzi in the process. it was an obvious foul.

“hey, that’s a foul!” azzi shouted.

paige, who’s grinning to herself, adverted her eyes to the brunette. “no it wasn’t, it was clean.”

“bullshit!”

“you’re just mad you can’t make a shot on me,” paige replied.

“please. like i haven’t done it before!” azzi exclaimed loud enough for heads to turn.

“ladies!” coach auriemma interrupted their argument, “make sure to stay after practice.”

for goodness sake, paige thought to herself.

“this is all your fault,” paige whispered, loud enough for only azzi could hear.

azzi simply rolled her eyes at paige’s remark. she wasn’t going to let the older girl distract her further; she’s already done it enough.

practice quickly came to a close; azzi managed to put distance between herself and paige, not wanting to cause any more trouble than she already had.

each one of the basketball players made their way out of the gym, while azzi and paige anxiously remained, waiting for coach.

his office door opened, “come on in.”

paige took the left chair as azzi took the right, both not saying a word. coach auriemma looked pissed.

“your behaviors is unacceptable. if you both want to help this team succeed, we’ll all need to get along, including you two. especially you guys. you both are two of the best players we have, and i’m going to need y’all to quit it with the bickering and focus on the game. am i clear?”

“yes, coach,” paige and azzi say in unison.

“alright then. with that being said, go out to eat with one another. get to know each other. i don’t know what caused your disliking of each other, but it’s got to change immediately,” geno auriemma instructed the girls.

paige’s eyes widen as azzi shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearly not pleased with his suggestion. but azzi was new, and she only wanted to please her coach.

“that sounds fine by me,” azzi said, despite her brain saying she’d rather do anything else.

paige stole a glance at the younger girl, before also agreeing.

“good. when tomorrow comes around, i better not hear any arguments. and if i do, the pair of you will face further consequences. am i understood?”

paige nodded her head rapidly, “yes coach.”

“so, where do you wanna go?” azzi questioned the blonde after exiting coach auriemma’s office.

paige rolled her eyes, “we aren’t actually going anywhere together. if you thought that, you’re crazy.”

azzi couldn’t help but be slightly shocked that paige would lie to their coach. “paige, i’m not getting into more trouble just because of you. look, i don’t want to go anywhere with you either, but we have no choice. let’s just get it over with.”

paige absorbed azzi’s words, carefully considering them. “alright, fine,” she sighed, “where too?”

“do you like chick fa la?”

“uh, yeah. who doesn’t? that’s like asking if i breath air.”

after a silent car ride with paige driving and azzi being the passenger princess, the two ordered their meals and sat in an open booth, facing one another.

paige continued not to look azzi in the eye. azzi, however, was harshly glaring at the older girl. “are you going to ignore me forever or actually acknowledge we’re teammates?”

paige finally locked gazes with azzi, “i was planning to ignore you forever.”

azzi couldn’t help but softly chuckle, “of course you were.”

paige lips rose at the sight of azzi’s breathtaking smile, “you make it impossible, though.”

“oh, really? it seems you’ve been doing it pretty damn well for as long as i’ve known you.”

paige didn’t dare to tell her that ignoring azzi is the hardest thing someone could do. it wasn’t just her skills on the court, that could make anyone, including paige, second-guess their game. it was the way azzi carried herself, making everything she did seem effortless, even when it wasn’t. her silent confidence and her ability to make everyone feel included even in a busy crowd. paige hated how much she admired the young girl from afar; how looking at azzi made her forget about everything and everyone around her. it was impossible to ignore a girl like azzi.

instead, paige settled on, “you’re just a pretty good player. i always notice good players.”

after swallowing a bite of a chicken nugget, azzi leaned her elbows on the table, a small smirk lingering on her face. “so now you admit to me being good?”

paige couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her comment regarding USA basketball days. “whatever, whatever.”

azzi laughed to herself, and continued to enjoy her meal, while paige also focused on eating rather than the conversation.

azzi and paige eventually relaxed to each other’s presence, feeling more comfortable than before. they discussed the challenging classes they were taking and geno’s firm coaching methods; the girls began to somewhat enjoy each others company, when a boy around their age walked up to their table.

paige and azzi both looked up at the man, who was directly eyeing the brunette. azzi’s cheeks reddened at the sudden attention.

“can we help you?” paige asked, making the man turn to look at her.

“yeah, uh, i was wondering if i could get your number? you’re, like, really pretty,” the man said to azzi.

her cheeks were basically inflamed at this point, “uh,” she tried to think of the words, “sure, i guess?”

paige scoffed at azzi’s interaction with this random guy. they were finally talking and she had to ruin it. paige clenched her fists and suddenly rose from the table, causing the man and azzi to look at her.

“i’m going to the car,” paige announced, taking off before azzi could get another word out.

after paige’s exit, the boy looked helplessly at azzi, beaming regardless of paige’s reaction. he was pretty cute, but azzi didn’t have the time to focus on anything but basketball and her classes.

“i’m kameron, by the way,” he said.

“i’m azzi, but i gotta go, sorry,” azzi replied, trying to hurry out of there as soon as possible.

“wait, your number-“ but azzi was already out the door.

azzi climbed into the passenger seat, immediately aware that this ride will be even more awkward than the one they previously had.

paige’s grip on the steering wheel caused her knuckles to turn white. when azzi noticed, she softly asked, “are you okay?”

“are you kidding me, azzi? we were finally getting along and you had to ruin it by giving some dude attention. what the actual fuck?”

“it wasn’t my fault he came up to me!” azzi shouted at paige.

“you could’ve said no! but instead you agreed right in front of me!”

azzi gaped at paige, “why do you care who asks me for my number?”

“i don’t!” paige answered defensively, although it was a complete lie.

“what are you, jealous?”

paige’s cheeks tinted at her comment, “don’t be silly, azzi.” she turned on the car and began driving down the road.

arriving back on campus, paige instantly took off without as much as a glance at azzi. after their short argument in the car, paige blasted music to avoid further comments from azzi.

azzi scrolled into her dorm that she shared with caroline, letting out an aggravated sigh.

“you good, girl?” carol asked azzi, with her eyebrows drawn together.

“yeah. coach auriemma made me and paige go out to eat, trying to make us get to know one another. complete bullshit, if you ask me.”

“why don’t y’all like each other, anyway?” carol questioned her friend.

“i don’t know! i have no idea what i did to her. she’s hated me ever since USA basketball,” azzi complained.

caroline looked around in confusion. “wait, so what went down when you guys were out?”

“we were actually talking, without arguing, and a guy came up, asking for my number. paige just got up and left. then in the car, she got all pissing and screamed how i said yes ‘right in front of her,’” azzi made quotations with her fingers.

caroline laughed at azzi’s explanation. “what?” azzi smiled.

“she was jealous!”

although azzi accused paige of being jealous earlier, she didn’t exactly believe it to be true. how could paige be jealous of someone hitting on azzi? she hated her.

“no, trust me, she wasn’t. she was just upset for some reason.”

“oh my god, she’s totally in love with you or something,” carol suggested as azzi turned pink.

“caroline, she’s not. she’s constantly avoiding me and is always mean. does that really should like her liking me?”

carol held out her hands like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “um, yes!”

azzi couldn’t comprehend how caroline got the impression that paige was in love with her. that was beyond crazy. paige’s hatred for azzi has been going strong ever since USA basketball tryouts. there was just no way.

practice the next day was going smoothly; paige and azzi didn’t interact much, like the usual, which didn’t cause geno to enable further consequences for the young girls. azzi was showing off her 3 point shooting skills, while paige continued to be an assist machine.

it was time for another 5v5, and of course paige and azzi were on opposing teams. azzi drained 3 after 3, getting impressive looks from her teammates as well as the two coaches.

a long rebound ended up near the 3 point line, to which azzi managed to secure it. however, she didn’t see the older blonde who was also going for the rebound right behind her. paige crashed into azzi, knocking her to the floor face first. paige maintained her standing position, with each one of her legs around azzi’s torso.

without thinking, paige reached down to place both hands on azzi’s hips, gently pulling her up. azzi’s ass was flush against paige’s front, sending unwelcome feelings throughout the blonde’s body.

there’s a brief moment of awkward silence, azzi still slightly disoriented from the fall. paige’s hands lingered on azzi’s hips a second too long, not that azzi made any hint to move them. she can feel the older girls hands on her body, steady and warm, making her heart skip a beat in her chest.

“you good?” paige whispered, practically in the curly brunette’s ear, given the distance between the girls.

“yeah, thanks,” azzi replied breathlessly, trying desperately to hide the flush creeping up her neck.

after noticing her lingering hands on the hips of azzi, paige removes them acting as calm as possible. paige notices a shift in tone and smirks, teasing the younger girl, “didn’t think i hit you that hard.”

azzi responds with a snark of her own, “i’m not fragile, you know,” attempting to look tougher than she truly is.

paige’s smirk widens as she allows her eyes to take in the sight of azzi. messy bun, leg sleeve, practice jersey slightly ruffled. she looked good.

“like what you see?” azzi commented on paige’s wandering eyes.

embarrassed, paige looks away, “you wish.”

azzi softly chuckles as the freshmen makes her way over to caroline and yanna, ready to continue the 5v5.

in a dais, paige stands motionless in the spot of her and azzi’s interaction, silently wishing she could have one more excuse to talk to her.

but the older girl didn’t, so she walked back into position, ready for the next play to come.

[marysfics]

Through the Dust

Alexia Putellas x DownhillRacer!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Other Chapters: click here

This is a multichapter fic, and trust me, you’re in for one wild ride. Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Grief, Kisses.

Word count: 1.8k

Chapter 6: ''The Brink of Something Real''

A few weeks had passed since the mountain cabin, and things had settled into an almost comfortable rhythm. You and Alexia had stayed in touch, messages and calls filling the spaces in between your busy schedules. She was back in Spain now, her pre-season training ramping up with the team, but even then, you could feel the connection between you two still lingering, soft and unspoken. You weren’t rushing into anything, not yet. You both needed time to figure out what it all meant—whatever "it" was—but there was a comfort in knowing that she was there. That you were talking.

You couldn’t say no when they asked you. It was an opportunity you’d dreamed of—an event that had long been seen as a men’s-only challenge. But now? It felt like everything had changed. And while the course scared you more than you cared to admit, it also pushed you to the edge in a way nothing else had. This was your chance. But, as always, the nervous buzz of competition made it hard to keep your mind focused on anything else.

Before the race, Alexia had called you. She’d been insistent, her voice a mix of teasing and something softer underneath.

"I’m watching, you know," she’d said, almost defiantly, like she was challenging herself to be there. "I’m dragging my mother and sister in front of the TV to watch you."

You had to laugh, picturing her usual unflappable self being so... invested. "Are they even into downhill racing?" you asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

Alexia’s chuckle filled your ears. "My sister is asking more questions than I can answer, and my mom keeps raising an eyebrow at me. She doesn’t get it, but... I think she knows it’s important. She sees me getting all nervous."

You felt a soft heat in your chest at the thought of Alexia’s family watching you. Nervous? You smiled, pushing aside the flutter of excitement and anxiety that came with it. "Tell them to keep their eyes peeled. I’ll show them how it’s done."

A little later in Alexia's apartment, Alexia was sitting with her arms crossed, her legs bouncing restlessly. She kept glancing at her phone, waiting for the race to begin. It was strange for Eli and Alba, having Alexia—who had never shown much interest in extreme sports—suddenly insisting that they watch a dangerous downhill cycling race. Eli had her reservations, but when Alexia had insisted so strongly, she knew something was going on.

"Why are we watching this again?" Alba asked, eyeing the screen with confusion as she adjusted the pillows on the couch. "Since when do you watch things like this, Ale?"

Alexia didn’t answer immediately, focusing instead on the screen where the pre-race interviews were playing. She had a nervous energy about her that Eli couldn’t ignore, the way her daughter’s foot tapped restlessly against the floor. It was clear to Eli that this race was more than just a race for Alexia.

Her eyes narrowed, a knowing look passing between her and Alba. “You’re nervous,” Eli said softly, watching her daughter closely. “Why? What’s going on?”

Alexia froze for a moment, her lips pressing together as she looked at her mom, but then her gaze drifted back to the screen. “I’m not nervous. I just… want her to be safe. It’s her last race of the season, Mom.”

Alba leaned in with interest, still oblivious. “Safe? Who are you talking about, Ale? You barely even know the riders."

Eli raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? You never watch anything like this, Ale. But now you’re glued to it?” She paused, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “It’s about more than just the race, isn’t it?”

Alexia’s face flushed slightly, and she avoided her mother’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quickly, but the slight blush creeping up her neck told Eli everything she needed to know.

Alba looked back and forth between them, her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean? What’s going on, Ale?”

Eli watched Alexia, sensing the moment of truth. Finally, she broke her silence, her voice soft but teasing. “Ale, are you seeing someone from this race?”

Alexia’s face turned bright red. “Maybe,” she mumbled, but it was enough to send Alba into a state of shock.

“Oh my God,” Alba gasped, her eyes wide. “Are you dating someone from the race? What is this? You’ve never been like this before!”

Alexia let out a small groan, her face still flushed. “It’s not like that, okay? She’s planning to visit soon. After this, she’s got the off-season. She’ll come here, and… we’ll see how it goes.” Her words were rushed, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, but there was something undeniably soft in the way she said it.

Eli smiled warmly at her daughter, sensing the subtle shift in Alexia’s energy as she spoke about you. "Well, it sounds like you’re really fond of her," Eli said, her voice gentle but knowing. "It’s nice to see you like this, Ale. I haven't seen you this excited about someone in a long time."

Alexia’s face flushed again, a little more this time, and she glanced at the TV where you were making your way toward the finish line. "It’s just... different, Mom. She’s different. I just... feel good when I talk to her." Her voice trailed off slightly, as if unsure of how to explain what she was feeling, but the sincerity in her words was clear. "And she’s been through a lot, too. I respect that."

Alba tilted her head, still processing the information. “Wait a second. Are you telling me you’re seeing a woman, Ale?” The question was blunt, but there was no judgment in it, just the curiosity of a younger sister trying to make sense of something new.

Alexia opened her mouth to respond but hesitated. There was something about this moment, a quiet realization that maybe she didn’t need to hide it anymore. She looked over at her mother, then back at Alba. "Yeah," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I think I am."

Eli let out a soft sigh, her smile widening as she nudged Alba playfully. "You’re looking at her like she’s grown a second head. Relax, Alba. Your sister’s allowed to have a life outside of football."

Alba blinked, clearly still processing, but she finally shrugged. "Okay, fine. But you have to promise me something, Ale."

Alexia raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You better introduce us to her when she comes to visit," Alba said with a grin. "I want to know everything. You can’t just drop this bomb on me and leave me hanging!"

Alexia laughed, the tension in her body easing. "I promise," she said, her voice softening. "You’ll meet her soon. And you can ask all the questions you want, okay?"

Alba gave a satisfied nod. “Good. But seriously, Ale, I’m kind of in shock right now. My big sister is dating someone from downhill cycling? What even is that sport? How did you end up with someone so... different?"

Alexia let out a small laugh, trying to shake off the teasing but feeling a little flustered. "It’s just a sport, Alba," she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. "It's actually pretty intense. You'd be surprised."

Alba raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. "Intense? You mean, like, you just race down a mountain on a bike at insane speeds and call that 'intense'?" She let out a dramatic sigh. "Sounds like something out of a movie. Are you sure you're not falling for someone who’s just trying to get themselves killed?"

Eli shot a look at Alba, a quiet warning in her gaze, but Alexia couldn’t help but laugh again. "I wouldn’t put it that way, but… yeah, it’s a bit crazy. But there’s more to it than just the danger. It’s about skill, control, knowing yourself, your limits. It’s a lot like football, in a way," Alexia explained, though she wasn't sure if her sister really understood.

Alba crossed her arms, still skeptical but clearly intrigued. "I guess. But what’s she like, Ale? Like, really like? You’ve got me curious now."

Alexia hesitated for a moment, her thoughts wandering back to you. She was still processing everything that had happened since they'd met—how you’d slipped under her guard so easily, how your laugh made her stomach flip. "She’s different," Alexia said finally, her voice softer now. "I can’t even really explain it. She’s real. And there’s something about her that’s… refreshing."

Alba looked at her older sister, clearly seeing how this conversation was affecting her. "Uh huh," she said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "I bet she’s got you all twisted up in knots."

Alexia rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "Maybe."

Meanwhile, as the race continued on the screen, Alexia’s attention was mostly on you. You were approaching the final stretch, and every twist, every jump, every corner, had her on the edge of her seat. Her heart pounded harder as you got closer to the finish line.

She glanced over at her mother and Alba, who were sitting on either side of her, both of them oblivious to the quiet storm of nerves swirling inside her. Alba had a knowing look on her face, but she didn’t say anything more. Instead, she turned her focus back to the race, watching the way you maneuvered through the last few hurdles of the course.

Suddenly, Alba leaned forward, eyes widening. "Wait a minute… that’s her, isn’t it?" she asked, pointing at the screen.

Alexia’s breath caught in her throat as she watched you in action. It was one thing to hear about the race, another to see you in your element, your confidence and determination shining through every turn.

The way you held your line, how you pushed through the hardest parts without hesitation, made something in Alexia’s chest tighten. She could almost hear your voice in her head, that same soft but firm tone you had when you said you’d be okay. But now, watching you race, she realized just how much she cared, how much she hoped you would cross that finish line without injury, without trouble.

As you made the final push and crossed the finish line with the fastest time, Alexia let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. It was more than just relief—it was pride. You’d done it. And something deep inside her shifted.

Alba, still watching intently, leaned back with a grin. "Well, looks like Ale’s in love," she said, her voice teasing but light.

Alexia, still holding her breath from the race, turned to her sister. "What?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

Alba’s eyes gleamed. "Come on, Ale. I’m not blind. You’ve got that lovesick look in your eyes. I can tell. That’s her, isn’t it?"

Alexia's face went bright red, and she turned away quickly, her heart hammering in her chest. "I’m not... I don’t know," she mumbled, her words tripping over themselves.

But Alba was persistent. "You definitely know. Don’t even try to deny it." She glanced at their mom, who was watching with amusement.

"Mom, tell her. She’s totally into her."

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

End of chapter 6.

[levisjinchuriki]

acts of service - toji fushiguro

summary - you love toji and you'd never let him feel like a burden

warning - angst, mention of an argument, going to bed angry, acts of service, husband toji, fluff at the end, soft!toji

the bedroom door slams behind you as your heart is pounds. your jaw hurts from biting back words you’ll regret. you and toji had your third argument already this week. his muffled voice tells you he’s still frustrated as he talks to you through the door, but you don’t respond. you’re too angry.

his voice eventually fades, and the sound of his retreating footsteps tells you he’s given up. you curl under the covers, still fuming, until the warmth of the bed lulls you into a restless sleep.

—

hours later, you wake up with a dry throat and your chest still tight from the argument. slipping out of bed, you quietly make your way to the kitchen. the first thing you notice is toji’s lunch bag on the counter, already zipped shut. you always pack his lunches—an unspoken routine between you two, one small way you show your love.

after unzipping the bag, your heart sinks– inside are a few hastily thrown snacks: a bag of chips, a granola bar, an apple. no sandwich, no leftovers, no real meal to sustain him through his grueling workday. it’s clear he didn’t expect you to pack his lunch tonight. 

he didn’t want to burden you.

your chest tightens as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. the anger is still there, but it can’t overpower the ache in your heart. toji might be stubborn, even infuriating, but you love him. even now, after everything.

you grab his lunch bag, emptying out the snacks with trembling hands. tonight’s leftovers sit untouched in the fridge. you plate the meal carefully, transferring it into containers and neatly tucking it into his lunch bag. you even add a few extra touches: a little pack of soy sauce, the cookies you baked recently, and some fruit.

finally, you grab a scrap of paper and a pen. for a moment, you hesitate, unsure what to write. then the words spill out, simple and raw:

i’m still mad at you. but i love you more than anything. please eat well today. 

you fold the note and tuck it into the lunch bag before zipping it shut again. a deep sigh escapes your lips as you set it back on the counter, right where he’ll see it in the morning.

the anger isn’t gone, but neither is the love. you head back to bed, the heaviness in your chest lightened just a little. you hope you can both start again tomorrow.

—

in the early hours of the morning, toji stands at the bedroom door, his lunch bag clutched in one hand. he’s staring at it like it’s the most precious thing in the world, a faint crease between his brows. the way his jaw tightens and his shoulders drop says more than words ever could.

he doesn’t deserve you, not after last night. that’s the thought running through his head as he quietly enters the room and sets the bag quietly on the dresser. he only meant to come in to get his work clothes. when his eyes land on you, curled up in bed, your face soft and peaceful in sleep, he knows he can’t leave just yet.

before he can stop himself, he’s moving toward you. his weight dips the mattress as he climbs in behind you, slow and deliberate, his body fitting against yours like it was made to. he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest, his warmth seeping into you.

you stir slightly, murmuring incoherently, but you don’t wake. toji presses his face into your hair, breathing you in. his lips lightly brush the back of your neck.

“i’m sorry” he whispers, his voice low and rough, almost inaudible. “for last night. for everything”.

his hand slides up to rest on your stomach, his thumb tracing lazy, absentminded circles over the fabric of your shirt. he’s not expecting forgiveness—not yet—but he needs you to feel this, even in your sleep.

he kisses the curve of your shoulder, then the space just behind your ear. each kiss is soft, tender, filled with everything he struggles to say out loud. “i don’t deserve you” he murmurs against your skin, his voice breaking slightly. “but i’m so damn lucky to have you anyway”.

you shift again, a small sigh escaping your lips as you unconsciously press closer to him. toji tightens his hold, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. the world outside is waiting for him, but for now, all he cares about is this—this quiet moment with you in his arms, the scent of your shampoo, the rhythm of your breathing lulling him into a sense of peace he didn’t know he needed.

“i love you” he says softly, his words barely a whisper, meant more for himself than for you. “even when i mess up. always”.

he stays there, holding you, until the weight in his chest feels a little lighter and the clock tells him he can’t stay any longer. but as he finally pulls away, tucking the blanket carefully around you, he swears to himself that he’ll make things right. you deserve nothing less.

--

a/n: this was inspired by a tiktok i saw. i hope you guys enjoyed. thank you for all the love recently!! <3

[weemssapphic]

Post-Gym Workout

Miranda Hilmarson x f!reader

a few months ago, @jadewolf22 requested sub!Miranda x reader hitting the gym together and Miranda getting turned on by reader lifting weights. cue sex with manhandling, spanking, marking, praise, degradation. this is that and I haven't written smut in a while so please be kind 🤍 (also sorry for disappearing I am Overwhelmed and Exhausted but I'm still here and I love you guys)

words: ~2.8k | ao3 link in title

‘I’m outside’ you text Miranda just after pulling into a spot outside of her apartment building, unable to stop your lips from curling into a smile when she immediately reads the text and starts typing.

‘Be right out! x’ 

Dropping your phone into the cupholder of your car, you drum your fingers against the steering wheel and wait for your girlfriend to come outside. It’s unbearably hot, even for an Australian summer, and you crank up the AC and put your hair up to keep it from sticking to the back of your neck. You’re beginning to regret the decision to go to the gym today, but it’s rare that you and Miranda have a day off together and she’s been begging you to hit the gym with her - you’re going to have to suck it up.

A flash of blonde in your peripheral vision makes you turn your head to see Miranda taking long strides towards your car, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. A massive grin lights up her face the second she makes eye contact with you through the windshield and she jogs the remainder of the way to the car, tossing her bag onto the backseat before sliding in next to you and leaning across the center console.

“Hi, baby,” you murmur against the blonde’s lips as she immediately goes in for a kiss, which you quickly deepen. Miranda’s smile is lovestruck when she pulls back and puts on her seatbelt, and the two of you fall into easy conversation on the short drive to the gym.

You notice Miranda’s gaze lingering on your body a few times as the two of you get changed in the locker room - you decide to tease her by making a show of bending over to put on your leggings. When you turn around, you’re secretly gleeful to find that her cheeks have turned a lovely shade of pink. 

“Like what you see?” you tease as you close your locker and grab your water bottle and towel from the bench. Miranda rolls her eyes and smiles sheepishly, turning to grab her own things in a vain attempt to hide her growing blush. 

As you work out, you can tell that Miranda is trying to be subtle about checking you out, but you know her too well not to notice. You can’t say you don’t feel the same way - watching her work up a sweat is starting to make you really glad you agreed to accompany her today (even though your own arousal is starting to feel a little frustrating).

It’s when you’re at the squat rack, reracking the barbell you’ve just had across your upper back, that you look at Miranda through the mirror, sitting on a bench behind you, her eyes glued to your ass and her cheeks gorgeously flushed, and decide you’ve had enough.

“I’m taking you home,” you say abruptly, grabbing your towel and water bottle from the floor next to the rack and turning around to walk straight past your partner. Your tone seems to snap her out of whatever perverted daydream she was immersed in, and she shoots up and trails behind you, her brows knit together in confusion.

“What? Why? Are you okay?”

Her legs might be longer than yours but your determination drives you to the locker room in record time, with Miranda stumbling after you.

“I wasn’t finished,” she whines with a pout as she follows you into the locker room, but you’re too busy checking to make sure you’re alone to respond right away, abandoning your belongings on a bench. Once you’re satisfied that you’re alone, you turn on your heel, with Miranda closer than you’d expected her to be.

“I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble finishing later,” you husk, one arm wrapping around her waist as the other hand slides into her hair and pulls her in for a heated kiss. Miranda’s frozen for a moment - then the meaning of your words registers in her brain and she moans, kissing you back eagerly as her hands find your hips. Her lips part for you in a silent request to deepen the kiss - you slip your tongue into her mouth, your jaw nearly going slack as you taste her and feel your clit throb with need.

You pull back, breathing heavily, your eyes hooded as you look up at Miranda through your lashes - she looks a bit dazed as she looks down at you, her chest heaving and her milky skin splotched with red. You smirk as you step away, opening your locker to pull out your bag and toss your things haphazardly inside, before slinging it over your shoulder. “Well?”

Miranda follows briskly behind you, and it takes all your self-restraint to keep your hands off of her on your way to the car. The drive back to Miranda’s place seems to take forever - the air in the car feels hot and heavy despite the AC, and Miranda doesn’t make it any easier for you by squirming noticeably in her seat.

The second you arrive at home and she closes the apartment door behind her, you’re all over each other again. Your hands find her hips and grip them tight enough to bruise as you push her towards the bedroom, your lips leaving a trail of sloppy, passionate kisses along the underside of her jaw. You wait until the backs of her knees have hit the bed, then give her a little shove - she lands on her back, looking up at you with hooded eyes and a flushed, heaving chest.

You climb on top of her, straddle her, run your hands up the sides of her clothed torso. She shivers, reaches out to grasp your hips, squeezes them. Her pupils dilate as her eyes roam your body, admiring your silhouette beneath your tight athletic wear. Her fingers twitch - you can tell that she’s eager to get you out of your restrictive clothing but she knows you’re in charge, so she doesn’t dare make the first move.

“You’re so beautiful,” you hum quietly as your hands slide beneath Miranda’s t-shirt, pushing it upwards. She blushes crimson at the sincerity of the compliment and sits up just enough to allow you to pull the shirt over her head and toss it to the floor. Her breathing goes shallow as you toy with the wide straps of the sports bra she’s wearing - you snap one of them against her shoulder and she winces, more so out of surprise than pain. You smirk. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” you whisper, bringing your lips to Miranda’s ear and letting your warm breath wash over the side of her neck. Goosebumps form a little trail on her sensitive skin and Miranda nods fervently, her breath catching audibly in her throat. You chuckle condescendingly.

“Good girls use their words, love,” you husk, nipping at Miranda’s earlobe and drawing a shuddering gasp from her chest, her body tensing beneath you. It takes her a moment, but finally Miranda finds her voice and breathes out a soft “yes” that makes your smirk widen.

“Yes, what?” You pull away far enough to look her in the eyes, only to see that hers are squeezed shut. “Look at me,” you command, waiting for Miranda to open her eyes, pleased with the wideness of her inky black pupils. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I-I’ll be a good girl for you,” Miranda whispers in one breath, her eyes darting hungrily between your own.

“Good.” You run your fingers through her hair, gently scratching her scalp, then suddenly ball your hand into a fist and tug her head back by the hair, baring her neck to you so that you can nip and suck at her pulse point, creating a deep red mark that was sure to bruise. 

Releasing her hair, you start to kiss your way down Miranda’s chest, ridding her of her sports bra with ease so that you can lavish small, supple breasts with kisses. You trace the tip of your tongue around her right nipple, your eyes open so that you can watch each little goosebump erupt in real time. You switch to her left nipple and bestow upon it the same rapt attention, sucking it eagerly between your lips and moaning when Miranda’s hands begin to claw at the fabric of your leggings, when her back arches and pushes her chest against your face.

“God, you’re fucking eager today…” you mumble as your lips nuzzle the skin of her stomach. You inhale deeply through your nose, breathing her in; the mixture of sweat and soap and those base notes that cling to her skin as part of her natural scent. You can’t help but to litter her chest and stomach with bruises - then pull her leggings down and give her inner thighs the same treatment, just so there’s no question who she belongs to.

Pulling down her pants releases the scent of her musk and reveals to you the dark, wet patch at the center of her underwear, and you feel your stomach flip and your own underwear grow uncomfortably wet.

“Such a good girl, letting me mark you like this…” you whisper against her inner thigh, just before you bite down and cause Miranda to cry out, her hands flying to your hair to steady herself.

“P-please,” she gasps out as you soothe your tongue over the bite marks you’ve just left.

“Please what, baby? You want to be fucked?”

Miranda nods fervently, and you smirk against her skin - her thigh twitches against your mouth.

“I think I want to take my time today…” you hum casually, letting your breath ghost over her panties - placing a soft, barely-there kiss to her clothed clit before licking at the seam of her crotch. Miranda whimpers. Tugs at your hair. Rolls her hips against the air. You nuzzle your nose against the wet patch on her underwear, and she gasps, arching her back off the bed, then sinking back down. Tensing and untensing in anticipation.

Once you’ve finally decided that she’s had enough, you hook your fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and pull it down her legs. You kiss your way back up her legs, starting at her ankles, switching sides, tracing your tongue up her toned calves, licking the back of her knee - she’s ticklish, she squirms - nipping her inner thighs, before finally reaching her cunt and, with gentle kitten licks, lapping up the arousal that’s already dripping out of her and running into the crack of her ass. 

“Mmh… fuck, you taste so damn good…” Your tongue gets more eager, parting her folds and circling her clit, and your pleased moans vibrate against the throbbing bud and send shockwaves through Miranda’s body, to which she responds with moans of her own, loud and unabashed.

You can tell she’s getting close by the way her thighs are trembling against your ears, their hold on your head tightening, her knuckles white against the sheets that she’s holding onto for dear life. You stop just shy of sending her over the edge, your lips leaving her clit in favor of ravishing her blonde curl-covered mound with kisses, and your ears are met with a deep whine as Miranda’s hips buck against you, to no avail.

“What do you need, baby? Hmm?” you husk as you slowly kiss your way back up Miranda’s stomach, between her breasts, well aware that her orgasm is starting to retreat again. You grab one of her breasts, the soft flesh filling up the palm of your hand, and bring your lips to her opposite nipple to kiss it chastely. “Your tits feel amazing…”

Miranda moans again, though it has a whiny, disgruntled edge. “Fuck… please…”

She’s starting to get impatient, her hands leaving the sheets and finding your shirt, clawing at it, trying to push it over your head, and you immediately sit up and scoot back, moving just out of reach and looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Turn around.”

Miranda doesn’t respond right away, staring up at you with wide eyes, her chest heaving and splotched with red, her hair stuck to her forehead as a bead of sweat races down her temple. You stand and grab her hips, giving her a push and flipping her onto her stomach. 

“Ass in the air.”

Miranda complies immediately, shuffling a bit on the bed so that she can bend her knees and bare her ass to you, a fresh wave of arousal glistening between her folds that are perfectly parted for you. Her ass is pale, soft, covered in goosebumps - you caress it tenderly, feeling the flesh beneath your palm, your fingertips. You raise your hand - pause for a moment - smack the right cheek. It jiggles a bit and, when you pull your hand away, there’s a faint red mark.

The harder you hit, the wetter Miranda gets, the louder, more pornographic her moans get, until you’re almost certain her neighbors have been able to commit the obscene sounds to memory.

“If only everyone at the station could see what a slut you are,” you say mockingly, soothing your hand over the pink flesh before drawing it back for another smack. Your words make Miranda’s eyes roll back in her head, her jaw going slack. 

The next spank makes her elbows buckle and she slips forward - you tug your own shirt and sports bra off, then lean over her so that your tits are pressed flush against her back. She shudders and your lips meet the back of her neck, kissing the sweat-slicked skin as your arm snakes around her torso, your fingers slipping through her drenched folds. You slide two fingers into her with ease, the heel of your hand pressing against her clit, and she rolls her hips eagerly, a cry of relief spilling from her lips at finally finding the friction she so desperately needs.

“I love seeing you like this,” you whisper against the back of Miranda’s neck, your own breathing heavy and stuttering. “You’re so goddamn beautiful. So fucking perfect.”

Miranda trembles against you, her hips bucking erratically as she chases her orgasm. As you pump your fingers in and out of her in a steady rhythm, you slowly ease in a third finger - her walls stretch around you, her breath stutters audibly, she whimpers a little.

“Shh…” You nuzzle your nose against the nape of her neck. “Tell me if it’s too much… but I think you can take it…”

Miranda’s thrusts resume their previous rhythm and it becomes clear she doesn’t mind the third finger - in fact, it sends her over the edge moments later, her whole body shuddering and tensing against you, her hips bucking, quivering, a long, deep moan vibrating through the air and drowning out your praises of “good girl” and “that’s it” until her body goes limp against you. 

Her knees give out and you hold her up, lowering her carefully and steadily onto her stomach, then rolling off of her. You scoot up the bed so that you’re resting against the pillows and urge Miranda to join you, winding your arms around her, pulling her cheek against your chest, kissing the crown of her head.

“You did so well for me,” you coo against the top of her head, carding your fingers through her hair. “Thank you for trusting me…” 

You hold her in your arms and brush a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead, kissing it. She curls into you, feeling so small in your arms and looking so content. She smiles and buries her face in your chest with a tired but happy hum. She thanks you and presses her lips to your chest and you chuckle and tighten your grip on her, your heart swelling with affection as you whisper, “I love you, Mir. Let me draw you a bath.” 

Your words are met with a discontented hum and she curls further into you as you chuckle at her reaction. “Can we stay here a few more minutes?” she mumbles - you nod softly and wiggle your hips a bit to get more comfortable on the bed.

“Whatever you want, love.”

Miranda smiles and traces her hand over your hips, giving the waistband of your leggings a meek tug, then clawing weakly at the fabric bunched over your hips. You raise an eyebrow and look down to see a tired half-smirk playing upon Miranda’s lips, and you chuckle and shake your head in amusement. “Whatever you want…”

x

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Given we have finally gotten news regarding the anime what do you think about it being an adaptation of the manga?

I have some mixed opinions since we'll be seeing the same story for the 4th time at this point (game/manga/novel/anime) but there does appear to be some differences with each especially with each unique Yuu. I do think the OBs and fight choreography is best animated over a slice of life show.

I'm not expecting any major changes from the manga if any at all but I'm happy to see it animated at all. I do hope it is successful so that the other books get animated. I feel like we are in a purgatory of early TWST with how often we go back to the earlier books in different mediums.

[Referencing this news!]

Gonna be honest with you, I’m kinda numb to getting yet another adaptation of the main story (a story that, mind you, we've already heard ad nauseum). At this point, it really does feel like a never-ending purgatory or time loop where we are forced to relive Heartslabyul over and over and over 😅 Of course, I'm still looking forward to seeing the anime and watching some of the more complicated scenes play out (fights, flashback sequences, playing magift/spelldrive, etc.). However, I think I would have preferred something new...? For example, vignettes, the event stories, etc.

The anime being an adaptation of the manga is... fine? But that means the anime may also have the same issues that I have with the manga. Those would be:

We will never really be able to fully bond with or know Yuu on a deeper level since Yuu is constantly changing between books/seasons. We won't get to see how the Yuu of Heartslabyul interacts with characters in later books, we won't get to see how the Yuu of Octavinelle handled the Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw conflicts, etc. We won't see any of them grow or change as a result of interacting with the NRC cast. This sucks particularly because if you really love a particular Yuu, you know they won’t be sticking around.

Despite the Yuus being designed as foils for the OB boys of each respective arc, no special meaningful interactions come out of it. The reader/viewer is just left to draw the parallels but there is never a moment where Yuu and the OB boy reconcile about their similarities/differences, which would actually justify the frequent changing of the POV character.

Barely any alterations are made from the game's story, since the manga isn't allowed to deviate in significant ways. No matter how different the Yuu is, they cannot ever make a decision or even have dialogue that would actually change the story in interesting ways.

General time constraints (manga arcs are 20 chapters, seasons have a limited number of episodes).

Limited showing/screen time of some characters. Because the adaptation will be of the main story, some characters that make very bad first impressions (hi, book 2 Leona… hi, Sebek without the vignettes…) will maintain those bad first impressions and won’t have a chance to redeem themselves simply because the bonus content (vignettes, event stories, etc.) aren’t adapted. Other characters won’t get as much focus simply because they aren’t the OB boys. The former would mainly be a concern for anime/manga-only fans.

Most of my disappointment comes not from reliving the same story, but that we are reliving the same story with minimal changes. I would enjoy adaptations more if they actually played around with the source material and explored new avenues! It feels like a missed opportunity, you know??

As I said earlier in this post, this is NOT meant to be overly negative; this is healthy skepticism. I'd describe myself as still excited, but not as excited as I would be if the anime were about something else set in the Twst world. Hope that makes sense 🙏

I would also caution readers to take my concerns with a grain of salt; for all we know, maybe the anime will add new scenes or fix some of the issues I pointed out. We should wait until the anime is out to judge its content and quality for ourselves.

On a positive note though 🤡 M-Maybe we will see. Shirtless L*ona animated… because… y’know… Episode of Savanaclaw technically canonized it… HAHAHAh JK… unless…? 🥺 👉👈

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Your Favorite Flavor - pt3

modern!aemond x fem!dealer!reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Aemond and you have been talking nonstop and he makes the trip to come visit you. By the end of his visit you two are closer than he ever thought possible. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, smoking, drugs(weed), face riding, fingering, spanking, oral(f+m), p in v, unprotected

Authors Note: idk when i’m ever gonna get over this man and it’s a touch concerning ! n e ways this is cute and filthy again x

Word Count: 5.6k

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The semester is still a couple weeks out and Aemond has never been more excited for exams so he can go home and see you again. He texts you when he has any moment of spare time and everytime he sees the three little dots his heart races. On late nights when his roommate is out he FaceTimes you for hours and listens to you whine that he’s not next to you. 

“And you say I’m the one who pouts.” Aemond chuckles as you groan and roll over on your bed. 

“Shut up, almond.” you glare at the screen filled with his face. “I think you should come visit me.” you mumble and he grins. 

“Why?” he smirks and you scoff. 

“Do you need an excuse to come see me? You’re the one who begged me last time.” you purse your lips and he relaxes back into his bed. 

“Mm, I think I’d like to hear you beg for me.” he watches your cheeks flush. 

“I’m sure you would.” your voice doesn’t hold the steadiness you’d like it to. 

“I’ll wait.” he chews on his lip with a smile. 

“Aemond,” he hums at you saying his actual name for once. “Please Aem,” you push your bottom lip out. His heart races as your tone “You don’t even have to stay the whole weekend. I just want you to make me come and smoke with me.” you bat your eyelashes at him. “Please,” you whine and he groans and he’s already mentally packing his bag. 

“What will I get out of it?” he raises his brow, enjoying that he’s teasing you for once. 

“Anything.” the word spills from your mouth quickly. “Kisses, head, you can keep me in bed the whole time if you want.” his eyes darken watching you get worked up. “I won’t call you almond all weekend.” he throws his head back and laughs. 

“I don’t believe that for one second.” he purses his lips. 

“Are you coming or not?” you pout. 

“Ask me nicely one more time.” he watches as you move from the bed and prop the phone up and you get on your knees putting your hands in front of you. His breath catches watching you stare at him from the ground. 

“Aemond please,” your whine has his cock starting to harden. “Please come take care of me. I want your- 

“Hey Aemond.” his roommate walks into the room and Aemond turns the volume down. 

“Let me call you later.” he looks down at the phone with flushed cheeks.

“Wait wait, is that your little girlfriend?” Aemonds eyes widen at his words and is about to hang up the phone. 

“You can properly say goodbye to me. Do not hang up on me.” you purse your lips as he looks down at the screen and back to his roommate.

“That weed you gave me was some of the best shit I’ve had. I don’t mind being displaced if you leave more baggies.” he chuckles before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door with a snap. 

“You told him I’m your girlfriend?” you smile nibbling your lip. He groans, throwing his head back. 

“No, I,” he shakes his head. “I just,” his brows scrunch not knowing what to say and he feels his face heat. 

“Oh baby almond.” you coo much to his horror. 

“You said you wouldn’t call me almond.” he whines and you chuckle. 

“Then come make me stop.” you challenge. “Almond.” you watch his nostrils flare and you giggle. 

“I’ll pack a bag and be on my way within the hour.” he gets up and grabs an empty bag. 

“What about your Friday class?” you raise your eyebrow. 

“I haven’t used any of my absences yet, I’ll be good. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.” you nod quickly with a smile. 

“Okay. Drive safe, almond.” he rolls his eyes and hangs up the call. 

Aemond tosses his phone to the end of his bed and gets up throwing clothes into the bag. He goes to the fridge and grabs some of your soda to bring to you. His roommate comes out of the bathroom and looks at him packing his bag. 

“You good?” he falls back onto his bed. 

“I’m gonna be gone for the weekend.” Aemonds tone slightly clipped, remembering his words of his ‘little girlfriend’.

“Can you pick up for me from your girl? I can send you money.” Aemond sighs and nods his head zipping up his bag. 

“Yeah just send me the money and I’ll grab it.” he stands and offers him a smile. 

Aemond gets to his car quickly and tosses his bag in and starts it up. He sends you a text and starts his drive. He drums his fingers on the wheel with a ridiculous smile on face. He doesn’t care that it’s the middle of the night and he can’t wait to have you in his arms again. Time flies as he drives and soon he’s back in town. He calls you once he’s five minutes away and you answer with a sleep thick voice. 

“Aem?” you hum and he bites his lip. 

“I’m about to pull up.” he hears the blankets shuffle. 

“I’ll meet you outside.” you mumble and hang up the phone. He pulls into your driveway and sees you open the front door and wait for him on the porch. He grabs his bag and walks up to you and you wrap your arms around him. 

“You look so sleepy.” he hums, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. 

“I am.” you pout up at him and tug him into the house. You shut the door and lock it before pulling him upstairs. He follows you into your room and you grab his bag and toss it to the floor. 

“Get back into bed. I’ll be there soon.” he scoots you to your bed and starts to kick off his shoes. You watch him from under the blankets as he pulls his shirt off and pushes down his pants. You lift the blankets and he crawls into bed next to you and you curl against him and his arms wrap around you.

“I missed you.” you mumble and his arms tighten. 

“I missed you too.” he presses his lips to the top of your head. He looks down at you and sees your eyes shut and smiles as he closes his holding you closer. 

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Aemond stretches out as he feels a soft tickling at his neck. He smiles and wraps his arms around your waist as you start to kiss at his neck with more fervor. His hands slip under your shirt as you kiss up his jaw. You press your lips to his and squeak as his hands travel down and squeeze your ass. His hands trail between your thighs, smiling that you're bare and he starts to pull you up his body. 

“Aem,” you giggle as he keeps scooting you up. “What are you doing?” you bat at his hands. 

“Trying to get you to sit on my face.” he smirks as you flush on his chest. He rubs circles into your thighs trying to coax you a little higher. His fingers slip under your thighs and lift you quickly and you gasp as he sets you on his mouth. “Just like this.” he kisses each of your thighs before pressing his lips against your bud. 

His hands travel under your shirt and travel up to your breasts and begin to tweak your nipples. His tongue softly licks at you and you whimper softly above him. His lips encase your bud and you tremble holding onto his arms under your shirt. Your hips start to softly rock against his mouth and he starts lapping at you faster. 

“Please yes,” your pleas are breathy and he pinches your nipples and you mewl above him. His hands sliding down to your hips and he starts to grind you against his mouth. He watches your stomach flex and tighten and his tongue flicks even faster. He hears your quick gasps and pulls you closer against his mouth. “Aemond,” your nails dig into his arms as you come across his face. He lifts you off of his face and takes in your flushed face. 

You lean down and smash your lips to his. You kiss him desperately holding him tightly as he rolls over to hover above you. He can feel the absolute need pouring off of you as you whine into his mouth. He lifts up and chuckles as you pull him back down against you. He goes to lift up again and you wrap your legs around him holding him tightly. “Please,” you whine arching up into him. 

“Gods you’re so needy today.” he chuckles watching you squirm beneath him. He laughs as a pout forms on your face and he kisses it away. You sigh, burying your fingers in his hair. “What do you wanna do today?” he hums against your lips. 

“You.” you reach up and press your lips to his. 

“I was thinking I could take you out somewhere.” he pulls back and looks down at you. 

“Almond, are you trying to take me on a date?” you smirk up at him and watch his cheeks flush. 

“You said you wouldn’t call me that all weekend.” he purses his lips as you continue to giggle. “Get up and get dressed.” he untangles from you and watches you pout in the pile of blankets. 

“Where are you dragging me?” you throw your shirt at him and he turns to you with dark eyes. 

“I want to surprise my little girlfriend and take her somewhere. So get up and get dressed.” your breath catches at his tone causing your cheeks to heat. You nod and walk over to your closet grabbing out clothes. He watches you get dressed and smiles to himself that you actually listened and looked flushed. He pulls his pants on and grabs the bag with your soda. “I brought you these.” he hums and you turn to him tilting your head. 

“Almond.” you coo grabbing the bag. He’s had enough of the nickname for the weekend and stalks over to you grabbing your chin making you look up at him. “Hm?” you blink up at him. 

“I’ve had enough of you calling me almond.” he glares at you as you smirk. “I mean it.” he flares his nostrils. 

“Mm do you almond?” he dips his head down to yours. 

“If you say it again I won’t let you come for the rest of the weekend.” he watches your eyes widen in shock. 

“That’s no way to treat your ‘little girlfriend’.” you purse your lips squinting your eyes at him. 

“It's no way to treat your boyfriend calling him ‘baby almond’.” he waits for your response as he watches your cheeks flush. 

“If you wanna date me you need to ask me out.” you tilt your chin up higher. 

“If you wanna date me you need to stop calling me baby almond.” he raises his eyebrow to you. 

“So is little almond okay? Or what about my little almond joy?” he exhales deeply looking up at the ceiling. 

“Your little almond joy is getting ready to put you over his knees.” you smile getting excited seeing this side of him. “I don’t want to hear anything else. Finish getting dressed so I can take you on a date.” he purses his lips as he grabs his bag to find a shirt. 

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Aemond stares at you from across the table unbelieving that he’s in a staring contest with you at a cafe. You rest your head in your hands and stare at him unblinking and he mirrors your movements. The waitress drops off the drinks and you mumble a thanks still staring ahead at Aemond. You know this will make him terribly mad but you have no plans on losing. You kick his leg under the table and he blinks at you, baffled as you start to giggle. 

“You lose.” you say triumphant before grabbing your glass and sipping your coffee. 

“You cheated.” he shakes his head, grabbing his drink. 

“The only rule you said was no blinking. Don’t be such a sore loser, little almond.” he chuckles, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Baby brother?” Gods that’s a voice he wasn’t expecting to hear. He watches your face soften as Helaena approaches your table. “What are you two doing?” she nibbles her lip with a knowing smile. 

“He begged to take me on a date.” you look up at his sister with a grin. “How could I say no to sweet baby almond?” you slide your eyes to Aemond and see him clench his jaw. 

“Moms gonna be mad you didn’t tell her you’re in town.” Helaena looks at him and he groans. 

“Don’t tell her.” he looks up at her with pleading eyes. 

“I won’t if you tell me how long this has been going on.” she gestures between us, chewing her lip to hide her smile. 

“A couple weeks. He’s terribly obsessed with me.” his eyes snap to you as you joke with his sister. 

“How could he not be?” she laughs. “Don’t fuck this up.” Helaena hisses at Aemond. “Okay well enjoy and I’ll text you somewhere nice to take her.” she tosses over her shoulder as she makes her way up to the counter to order her drink. 

“What did I say about ‘baby almond’?” he watches you try and fail to stifle your laughter. 

“I mean technically I said ‘sweet baby almond’.” he starts to tap his rings against the glass as he stares at you. You recline back into your chair as you look at him pouting.

“Aemond if you want to woo her you need to speak and not just stare at her like that.” Helaena approaches our table once more. He slides his eyes up to her, pursing his lips. 

“Everytime I try to talk to her she teases me.” he offers me a pointed look and Helaena and I giggle at the same time. 

“That means she likes you, loser.” Helaena whispers in his ear and pats his back. “Ugh you two are cute.” she sticks her finger in her mouth jokingly before she leaves the cafe. His phone dings and he pulls it out looking at what Helaena’s suggestion is. 

helaena: *sent directions* 

Aemond clicks it and groans at her stupidity. You  snatch the phone from him and bark out a laugh and he takes his phone back with red cheeks. You pull out your phone to message Helaena. 

you: Gods you should see him blushing at ‘Poundtown’ i literally have tears in my eyes buuut tmi? we’ve already been there 🫣🤭 

hel: i figured 😭 he was far too happy when he came back from picking up from you 🙄 

You look up and see Aemond frowning at you with red cheeks. He doesn’t want you to see him as just Helaena’s little brother that you occasionally fuck. You put your phone back in your pocket and reach for his hand across the table. He places his hand in yours and you wrap your other hand around it too. 

“I’m sorry.” you say softly and he scrunches his brows. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” he shakes his head feeling embarrassed for showing his feelings on his face so openly. 

“I am enjoying my time with you today.” his eyes search yours. “As much as I love you between my thighs, it’s nice to go out.” your words are so soft and the way you’re holding his hands has his heart beating faster.

“Any amount of time you spend with me I enjoy. No matter what we do.” its your turn to flush at his words.

“Careful baby almond. Your massive crush is showing.” he rolls his eyes, squeezing your hands tightly.

“You think you’re hiding yours any better?” he raises a brow. “You were the one begging last night and whining about how much you missed me.” he loves watching your cheeks redden at his words.

“You’re the one who drove to me in the middle of the night.” you watch his smile grow.

“You still haven’t thanked me. I come all the way down here just to hold you and make you come and what do I get? Relentless teasing.” you chew the inside of your cheek as you chuckle.

“Thank you for always being so desperate to get between my thighs.” you watch him flare his nostrils.

“Gods you’re being a brat today.” he shakes his head at you. 

“I am not.” you glare at him across the table.

“Oh, but you are.” he smiles watching your cheeks flush. You huff and rise from the table and start towards the door, smiling as you hear his chair scrape on the ground. You push open the door and start to walk down the sidewalk until he pulls you back against him. You look up at him with that pout that drives him crazy and he buries his fingers in your hair tilting your head up for him. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you today. He’s ready to pull you down an alley and take you against the bricks. 

“I thought I was getting my sweet baby almond today, not pouting Aemond.” he watches your lips turn up and he tilts your head further up. 

“Yet all you’ve done today is tease me.” you bite your lip at his tone. 

“No.” you try to shake your head but his fingers won’t give. You look up at him waiting for him to do something. You want to see if that authoritative tone earlier was just a show or if he would back it up. You figured teasing him relentlessly was the best route, you’ll either be on your knees apologizing with your mouth or over his knees like he said. “Baby almond.” you coo.

“Let’s go.” his hand leaves your hair and wraps around your wrist pulling you. You pull him back and he turns with a glare. “Walk to the car or I’ll drag you.” his voice low. 

“I don’t believe you.” you purse your lips and he chuckles. His grip tightens and he starts to pull you to the car. You see his jaw flex as he starts to pull you faster. He pulls the door open for you and looks at you expectantly. 

“Get in the car.” you take your seat and he has the door clicked shut a second later. 

“Where are you taking me now, almond?” you turn to him with a smile. 

“Home.” his tone excites you. 

“Why?” you whine and he slides his eyes to you turning on the car. 

He shakes his head and pulls the car onto the road. You take his hand and he can’t stop the small smile on his face as you twist his rings. A low groan comes from his lips as you take one of his fingers into your mouth. You brush your tongue against the digit and Aemonds breathing deepens. He pulls his finger from your mouth and pats his hand on your thigh leaving it there. The rest of the ride is silent building promises of what’s to come. 

“Is anyone home?” he turns to you when he pulls in the driveway. 

You shake your head and he gets out of the car and is pulling you out of your side quickly. You unlock the door and he ushers you inside and is dragging you up the stairs. Once in your room he tugs you over the bed and your heart races in anticipation. He sits down and looks up at you with a smirk. 

“Take off your clothes.” your breath catches at his words. He nods at you, raising an eyebrow. You slowly peel off each layer and he leans back and watches you. He can not wait to absolutely ruin you once you're in his arms. He holds his hand out for you to come to him and you slowly walk to stand in front of him. “Gods look at you.” he hums, sliding his hands from your waist down to your hips. He brings one of his hands down hard on your ass and watches you bite your lip and scoot closer to him. He repeats the action with his other hand and you let out a small whimper. 

“Please,” his eyes darken and he guides you over his knees. You squeeze your legs shut and he chuckles trailing a finger up your slit. He smiles as his finger slides through your dripping center while you squirm beneath him. His other hand comes down on your cheek as he slips his finger into your core. “Aemond,” you whine as he starts to pump his finger. 

“Hm?” he brings his hand down again on your cheek as he slips a second finger in. He watches your legs curl up as he starts to slam his fingers into you. He spanks each of your cheeks again and the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard fall from your lips. Aemond listens to the sounds you make to be sure you’re still enjoying yourself even though he can feel your squeezing his fingers tightly. The sounds of your pleas and wetness cause his cock to throb and he pulls his fingers out needing to have you right now. 

“No, please,” you grab for his arm and he chuckles at your desperation. “I’ll be good.” you whine and he groans at your words before lifting you up. 

“I know you will.” he pushes you onto the bed and you lift your ass into the air for him. 

He pulls his clothes off and he watches you spread your legs wider for him. He brings your hips to him and he swirls his tip around your wetness. He pushes in slowly clenching his teeth at the feel of you wrapping around him. You grip the sheets as he starts to snap his hips into yours. When his hand lands on your cheek you fall apart around him moaning loudly. 

“Fuck.” Aemonds fingers dig into your hips continuing to push into you. 

His pleasure builds at your small whimpers and gasps that fill the room along with the sounds of your wetness. You push your hips back into his and he lands his hands onto your ass again. His hips falter as you pulse around him whining his name. His fingers dig into you as his high washes through him. He collapses on the bed next to you and you move to lay against his chest. 

“So you’re done pouting now?” your taunt comes out breathy. He flips you over and you look up at him nibbling your lip as he hovers above you with dark eyes. 

“You’re not done with your attitude.” you squeak when his fingers slip back into you. When his thumb swipes across your bud you tremble. You arch up into him and he chuckles leaning down above your lips. You reach up and he pulls his head back watching you pout. He curls his fingers watching your face scrunch with pleasure the faster he moves.

“Aemond, please,” you gasp, holding onto his arm. “Please,” the word goes straight to his cock once more. He chuckles as your pleasure coats his fingers and pours out of you while you cling against him. He pulls his fingers out and slams into you and your breath catches in your throat. “Yes, Aem,” your eyes roll back as he hammers into you. 

“Fucking perfect.” he grunts and you claw into his back when his fingers circle your sensitive bud. A loud cry falls from your lips as your pleasure explodes through you. Your toes curl as he slams into you while spilling his pleasure into you. He rests his forehead on yours as you both pant. “Anything more to say?” you shake your head clinging against him. 

“Please,” you pull him down to your lips. He slowly presses his lips to yours and when his tongue slips into your mouth you sigh. He rolls you both over and has you rest against his chest as his fingers caress your skin. You whimper into his mouth at his soft touch and he kisses down your neck. 

“I’m gonna take you dinner tomorrow. You’ll be nice and you won’t call me almond.” he sucks softly on your neck and you nod holding onto him tightly.

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Today Aemond has seen how much you’ll allow him to get away with. Everytime you nod your head at a suggestion his heart races. You didn’t even protest when he picked out your shortest, flirest dress for you to wear. You simply smiled and paired it with long socks that made his eyes darken. Not even when he pushed his fingers into your panties on the way to the restaurant, you just put them in your mouth after you came all over them. 

“Fuck your like a perfect little doll today.” he groans watching you clean his fingers as you both sit parked outside of the restaurant. 

“After the way you fucked me yesterday you can have anything, Aem.” you bat your lashes at him and he groans. He gets out of the car and goes to your door and offers you his hand. He leads you into the dim restaurant and you lean against him as you wait to be led to the table. 

“Are your cheeks still sore?” he dips down and whispers in your ear. 

You gasp as his hand squeezes against your ass before wrapping around your waist. You look up at him with pleading eyes and he leans down to press his lips to yours. He chuckles at your pout as he pulls back. You’re both led to a table and he pulls out your chair for you. He sits across from you and you smile looking at his relaxed features. 

“You are so handsome, Aemond.” you reach your hand out for his. You haven’t called him almond all day and he refuses to admit he misses it the smallest amount. “So cute when you blush.” he grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth. “I wish you didn’t have to leave in the morning.” your soft words surprise him. 

“I don’t want to leave either.” he rubs his thumb across your hand. “I’ll be home in a couple weeks.” your frown causes his chest to tighten. 

“I know. I’m just going to miss you.” you don’t care how needy you sound. “I know we’ll call and stuff but,” your frown deepens. 

“I mean there’s no reason we can just switch driving to each other every weekend.” he nibbles on his lip. “It’s not that far. Unless that’s too much and- 

“I would like that.” you nod your head quickly. “A lot.” you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. 

“So you’ll come up next weekend?” he searches your eyes. 

“I’ll be there on Friday when you get out of class.” you squeeze his hand. 

“As my girlfriend?” he knows there’s a flush on his face as he waits for your answer. 

“Or your perfect doll.” you offer him a playful smile. 

“Both?” his eyes darken. 

“I suppose I could do that for my boyfriend.” you watch a smile spread across his face. 

The waitress takes your orders and you spend the next couple of hours in a sweet bliss enjoying each other's company. When you get home you push him back onto your bed and roll at your desk. He watches you walk back to him and he just wants to lay you out in the bed and devour you. 

“Here.” you crawl into bed with him and lean against him. He lights the blunt and passes it to you. Your eyes become lidded as you both smoke and you start to look at him with such intense need. “Finish it.” you hum and slide down his body to settle between his legs. He looks at you with flushed cheeks as you start to unbutton his pants. 

He groans as you wrap your fingers around him and free him from his pants. You suck his tip into his mouth and watch his chest heave. He brings the blunt to his mouth and watches you lower your mouth. He sighs feeling your soft lips wrap around him and he curses as you hollow your cheeks. You look up at him and he groans, putting the blunt in the ashtray. 

“You’re fucking perfect.” Aemond rasps down to you.  You start to bob your head faster and he tosses his head back. His hips jerk and you follow his movements and his fingers tangle in your hair. With the way you’re looking at him his stomach starts to tighten as you bob faster. You bring him to the back of your throat and he groans, pulling your hair as his pleasure flows into your mouth. You hum around him swallowing his pleasure as soft moans fall from his mouth. You slowly pull your mouth off of him watching his face twist with pleasure. 

“Come up here.” you slowly crawl back up the bed and he smashes his lips to yours. He pulls your dress up and rubs his fingers across your soaked panties. “Lay back on the bed.” he smiles against your lips. He pushes the sleeves down your arms and tugs the dress down to expose your chest. His lips attach to one of your nipples and he quickly flicks his tongue across it. He takes the peak between his teeth and chuckles as you squirm beneath him. His other hand is between your thighs teasing you above your panties. 

“Aemond please,” your hips chase his hand. He listens to your soft pleases as he licks across your chest to your other nipple before swirling around it with his tongue. He smiles feeling your panties getting wetter as he teases you. He harshly sucks your peak into his mouth and you whimper above him. He rises and leaves your chest glistening before he slides down your body. He presses his lips against your panties watching your thighs shake beside his head. 

He flicks his tongue against your covered bud and your chest heaves. You grind against his face and he chuckles and slides his tongue down to your core. He pulls back and looks down at you. Your pouted lips are parted and your cheeks are flushed. His eyes slide to your chest and your hardened nipples that he wants to put between his teeth again just so he can hear those soft cries. He then looks at your panties that are soaked just for him. 

“Touch me, please.” his eyes snap up to yours at your plea. “Please, Aem,” you’re begging for him. You, his girlfriend. His head spins and he pulls off your panties. He throws your legs over his shoulders as his mouth attaches to your core. He groans being greeted by your dripping center. “Yes,” you cry arching off the bed. His hands push your dress up more to dig into your waist. You fall apart as his tongue lashes against you. He slowly pulls back watching the pleasure still course through your body. 

He brings his lips to yours and you hold him against you. He pulls back to tug his clothes off and helps you do the same. He lays back into bed and pulls the blankets over you both as you cling to him. He smiles to himself that you didn’t call him almond all day and now you’re officially his girlfriend who’s curled against him. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

You sit in bed with a frown as you watch Aemond pack his bag. He walks over to you with a shirt and slips it over your head before bending down and pressing his lips to yours. You try to pull him back into bed but he pulls you out of it. You purse your lips walking over to your dresser to grab a pair of sweats. 

“My roommate wants to pick up.” Aemond hums walking over to you. You hand him a couple baggies and he sends you the money. You hand him an extra baggie for himself regardless of his protests. “You don’t have to.” he stuffs them into his bag. 

“I want to, almond.” his head snaps to you and sees your smirk. 

“Don’t start this right as I’m about to leave.” he flares his nostrils as he slings his bag over his shoulder. 

“Start what?” you tilt your head. He shakes his head and your hand slips into his as you lead him downstairs and out to his car. He pulls you against him and presses his lips to yours. 

“I will see you on Friday.” he murmurs against your mouth. 

“Please drive safe and text me when you get there.” you press your lips to his once more. He gets in his car and you watch him as he backs out of the driveway. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

me vs saying two more parts again bc i already started pt4 and it won’t be the last chap that’s fs

ur fav flav taglist: @echos-muses @sinistersnakey @uwuuness

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004 @ninihrtss

[dissapointu]

fluffy story with Vi and a chubby S/O:

Vi wasn’t used to this.

Peace wasn’t something she got much of growing up, nor something she felt she deserved after all she’d been through. The chaos of Zaun, the fight to survive, the battles she had to win just to keep her loved ones safe — it left her wary of anything too quiet, too gentle.

But then you came into her life like the warmth of sunlight filtering through a cracked window. You were soft in a way that scared her at first. Not because you were fragile, but because you had a way of making her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could let down her guard.

And that was terrifying.

You didn’t flinch at her scars or the edge in her voice when she got too worked up. You saw her for who she was and didn’t turn away. And somehow, you made her believe she could be someone worth sticking around for.

•

It was a chilly morning in Piltover, and Vi was up early for once. You were still tangled up in bed, wrapped in a blanket like a cocoon. She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, just watching you sleep for a moment.

Her tough, street-smart exterior softened as she smiled. You looked so peaceful, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

She slipped back into bed carefully, not wanting to wake you just yet. But as soon as her arms wrapped around you, you stirred, mumbling something incoherent as you snuggled closer to her.

“Good morning to you too,” she chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Mm… no morning yet. Sleep,” you grumbled, half-buried in her chest.

“Sleep, huh? You’re cute when you’re grumpy,” she teased, gently poking your cheek.

You cracked one eye open to glare at her playfully. “Vi.”

“What? I can’t admire my partner in crime first thing in the morning?”

You groaned, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am. The luckiest insufferable person alive.”

•

Later that day, Vi decided to take you on one of her favorite little adventures through the streets of Piltover. It was a rare day off, and she wanted to spend it spoiling you.

“Where are we going?” you asked as she led you by the hand, weaving through the bustling market.

“Patience, babe. You’ll see,” she said with a mischievous grin.

The two of you stopped at a quaint bakery tucked away in one of Piltover’s quieter corners. Vi had been here a few times during patrols and always thought of you when she saw the display of pastries and sweets.

She bought an assortment of treats, insisting you pick out anything you wanted. “Don’t hold back on me now. I know you’ve been eyeing that chocolate tart,” she said, nudging you gently.

“You’re too good to me,” you said, blushing.

“Damn right I am,” she said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “But you deserve it.”

As you both sat outside, sharing bites of flaky croissants and buttery cookies, Vi couldn’t help but admire you. The way your eyes lit up with every new flavor, the way you laughed when she accidentally got powdered sugar on her nose — it made her heart swell in a way she never thought possible.

The afternoon turned into evening, and the two of you ended up back at home, sprawled on the couch. You were cuddled up against her, your head resting on her shoulder as she absentmindedly played with your hair.

“Hey,” she said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

You looked up at her, surprised by the sudden tenderness in her voice. “Not today.”

“Well, I do. A lot,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed. And I know I don’t always say it the way I should, but I’m glad you’re here. With me.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Vi…”

She pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you like a shield. “You don’t have to say anything, babe. Just let me hold you, okay?”

You nodded, burying your face in her chest as she held you.

In that moment, you realized Vi wasn’t just your partner. She was your home.

And for someone like Vi, who’d spent most of her life searching for a place to belong, you were hers too.

[daisymbin]

Hey can i request one where the reader sends Joshua flowers every week when he’s having practice/rehearsals and he asks her

37. "you brought me flowers? just because?" 🥹

omg this is so cute 🥺

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist!

fluff prompt #37: "you brought me flowers? just because?"

the flowers always came at the same time every week for the past 4 months. like clockwork, they arrived at 11am, brightening the practice room with their soft colors and subtle fragrances.

and every week, joshua’s face lit up as he accepted the bouquet, placing it gently on the counter. he never questioned who sent them—he didn’t want to ruin the magic of it. all he knew was that those flowers had become a highlight of his week, a small moment of beauty in the chaos of rehearsals.

but today, there was no delivery.

the clock ticked past 11, and no knock came at the door.

joshua tried not to show his disappointment, but jeonghan noticed immediately.

“no flowers today?” jeonghan asked, his tone half-teasing, half-curious.

joshua shrugged, fiddling with his water bottle. “i guess not.”

jeonghan smirked. “don’t look so sad, shua. maybe your admirer finally gave up.”

“they’re not my admirer,” joshua muttered, though his chest tightened at the thought.

by 12:30pm, he’d resigned himself to the fact that the flowers weren’t coming. maybe this little tradition had ended without warning. maybe he’d never know why it had started in the first place, or who sent them.

but then the door creaked open timidly at 12:42pm,

you stepped inside, a bouquet of daisies and lavender in your hands as well as some take out bags and joshua freezes.

“y/n?” he said, blinking in disbelief. “what are you doing here?”

“sorry i’m late,” you said, offering an apologetic smile. “the florist didn’t have any delivery slots this week, so… i figured i’d bring them myself. oh! and lunch! you guys haven't eaten right?"

jeonghan raised an eyebrow, watching the scene unfold like it was his favorite drama. he notes the way you're nervous, your hands slightly trembling. the mask of nonchalance on your face did little to hide it all.

joshua stood up, slowly making his way toward you. “you’re the one who’s been sending me flowers?”

you nodded, holding out the bouquet. “guilty.”

he took them from you carefully, as if they might disappear if he wasn’t gentle enough. “you’ve been doing this every week?”

“yeah,” you said, shifting on your feet. “i thought you might like them.”

he stared at you, his expression unreadable. “but… why?”

you hesitated, suddenly feeling very self-conscious under his gaze. “just because.”

his lips parted slightly, his eyes searching yours. “you brought me flowers? just because?”

“yeah,” you said quietly, your cheeks warming. “just because. and… because they make you happy.”

for a moment, the room was completely silent.

then jeonghan let out a low whistle, breaking the spell. “wow. who would've thought…”

joshua barely heard him. he was too busy staring at you, his heart racing in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

“thank you,” he said softly, his voice almost trembling.

you smiled, trying to play it off like your heart wasn’t doing flips in your chest. “it’s no big deal.”

“it is to me,” he said, his gaze never leaving yours.

jeonghan cleared his throat loudly, "so... lunch you said?" and you took that as your cue to leave.

“oh! yes, lunch. here," you laid the take out bags down, "well, i should go, dont wanna intrude,” you said, stepping back toward the door. “i’ll see you later, joshua.”

he watched you leave, the bouquet still clutched in his hands, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

as soon as the door closed behind you, jeonghan turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “so… are the flowers enough confirmation for you to finally confess, or do you need her to spell it out in neon lights?”

joshua blinked, his mind still replaying your shy smile and the way your voice softened when you said, “just because.”

“she doesn’t…” he started, then trailed off.

jeonghan rolled his eyes. “oh, please. she sends you flowers every week, and today she personally brought them because she wanted to make sure you still got them. & LUNCH! if that’s not a big neon sign saying ‘i like you,’ i don’t know what is.”

“but what if—”

“nope,” jeonghan cut him off. “no what-ifs. no overthinking. she likes you, shua. it’s obvious.”

joshua glanced down at the bouquet in his hands, his heart swelling with something warm and hopeful.

maybe… maybe jeonghan was right.

maybe it was time to stop waiting.