#questions I feel like bell hooks probably has answers to

[mythoughtsneedtogosomewhere]

On male-female friendships

I always wanna believe men and women can be friends but it feels like a slippery concept to me, feels a bit like swimming in that river in Egypt, never quite able to find your footing on its banks, unsure of boundaries or limits.

In the arms of my girlfriends, I can be playful, gushing, and maybe even overly loving. Male friendships require restraint, hesitancy, holding them just close enough to leave no room for misinterpretation, or restrictions…male friendships struggle to feel like friendships at all unless I can plainly tell that when I love them loudly and boldly, when I praise or try to build them up, I do not want them the way they're used to being wanted. My compliments are not a romantic overture. I don’t even really know how to make such invitations. I only wish to love them. I know no other way to truly be someone’s friend if not to try to make them smile, to try to let them know in small ways that what they contribute by existing is not only enough but everything.

But men are so used to being made everything in the lives of women, accepting it as their due. Which is a lovely way to exist if it was taught to all of us equally. But to be a woman giving a type of everything to a man, even platonically, feels a bit like walking a slippery slope, like wading in turbulent waters.

[mareastrorum]

(I’m the anon from before!) Thank you so much for answering my question with a great response. My biggest issue about this campaign is that it feels like a vicious cycle in a way? This has been a narrative set almost from the very beginning of Critical Role but the characters within that narrative feel like they’ve been shoehorned into whatever role they inhabit because a) they have to go to the moon to fix the problem, b) they don’t really care one way or another but they’re PC’s so they’re Important and have to be involved with whatever is happening, c) aren’t given enough time as a group, or don’t make time, to figure out the actual issues out, and d) almost KNOW they’re in a game and are too afraid to make a call in case the world blows up. If that makes sense? And then it’s all rinse and repeat. It just feels very disconnected from plot to character, especially when C2 was purely driven by character choices (like the whole dang campaign changed) but C3 is ‘this is happening in three days, you must be there’. Nothing feels earned yet Bells Hells act like the sun shines out of their asses because they’ve been given so much power but they’ve only been given this power BECAUSE they’re PC’s?

You’re welcome, and thanks for another ask!

I agree that there was a cycle that needed to be broken. However, I think it probably had more to do with the players’ approaches to the game than it did with the characters themselves. Characters don’t have agency. For all the talk about what a character would do, the answer still boils down to “they’d do what the player wills them to do” because that’s how roleplay works. The traits and flaws that make one action preferable over another were decisions by the player that made them.

Others have discussed at length about the importance of a session zero, which unfortunately didn’t happen this campaign. A session for the DM and players to review the broad strokes of character design would have been useful for guiding the players to include at least some curiosity in the group and ensure that they had skills to gather information. It also would have given the players some ideas for traits to include that would cause camaraderie and conflict between them that could build into meaningful reasons to push on each other’s faults.

I’ve also posted before about how the players (particularly Laura and Ashley, who had said as much) are worried that they might make the wrong decision. Them, not their characters. I really think that’s the heart of the problem. That mentality stifles good improv.

For anyone unfamiliar with the term, “yes, and” refers to an improv exercise where the 2+ participants take turns improvising dialogue or actions, and with each turn, the participant must accept the prior bit as correct and then add to it. That doesn’t necessarily mean it has to be interpreted in a specific way; to the contrary, it’s often funnier to misinterpret it or pivot. The point is to break down the mentality that “I can’t continue in this direction, I can come up with something better” because there isn’t a right choice. The audience has no clue what other possibilities there had been. There’s only the choice you made in the moment.

This campaign has basically been the players falling short of commitment to the “yes, and” bit. Since the Ruby Vanguard came into focus, they have rejected every faction, course of action, and several plot hooks because they didn’t want to commit to a course that might be wrong. That’s a realistic thing to do in the early-middle of a campaign when the main conflict begins because that’s a good motive to explore the other options available to them. However, the players never really ventured back to “yes, and” for the main plot. They just kept looking for alternatives.

The players wound up pushing their characters into a corner: I don’t want to ally with that group or do that act because X. The only people who knew of those reasons were each other, and they had never fostered a party relationship where they were willing to confront each other on those hangups or respond favorably to any intervention. They didn’t do watch talks or follow up on emotional beats beyond single acts of reassurance or reconciliation (e.g., when Laudna made Ashton a doll). The result was a set of characters who couldn’t agree on what to do and panicked when the world kept turning anyway.

Matt is a good DM. He set up numerous possibilities that he was comfortable with and gave the players the agency to decide which one they wanted. The problem seems to be the players’ self-doubt, and the DM really can’t fix that without pausing the game for an above-table talk. That’s feasible in a home game, but not on a show that doesn’t do edits. Talking it over out of game (whether it happened or not) may not have fixed anything anyway because the anxiety occurs when they have to make the decision: when the cameras are rolling. That’s why I don’t really place much, if any, blame on Matt for this beyond not enforcing a session zero. This was a set up they all agreed to, and the players need to self-advocate if something isn’t working for them.

If anything, I think this campaign highlights a weakness of an unedited actual play show: when the stress is causing players to freeze, there is no reprieve. If the campaign features that player’s character heavily, it’s just going to keep happening. That isn’t the player’s fault for having that reaction, but they need to do something if they know it’s coming. We don’t know what actions the cast considered and tried to fix this issue. We only know that it didn’t really produce a result that benefitted the story.

Of course, there might be other considerations happening in the background that we know nothing about. This is only what I could hypothesize based on the stream, 4SD, and Cooldown. Hopefully these issues can be minimized in the future.

[knifegrrrllll]

hi!! im the same anon from before that asked about your perspective on radical feminism.

firstly i want to say thank you for responding!! and as per usual you gave me a knowledgeable response!! (so thank you for that!!) i just a have two questions now,

1) why is radical feminism outdated? (i know you listed points in your first post but i was hoping you could maybe expand on them or give me some other sources to read on (if you’re okay with that!!))

2) what is intersectional feminism to you, how should it be practiced, what are the cores/goals of intersectional feminism? (again if you’re comfortable just giving me sources to read i’m cool with that too!!)

sorry for asking alot of questions, i’ve been getting alot of terf, tirf, radfem, anti radfem (of all types), anti feminism,

(just alot of feminism discourse and infighting)

-on my feed and i’m trying to read everyone’s own points and views and it’s definitely making me confused in more ways than one.

(ofc you don’t have to respond if this is too much trouble, i understand the gravity of my ask!!)

Hiiii omg its u again tysm for sending me another ask bc i love to infodump ab feminism

in my opinion the main genuine reason i really feel radical feminism is outdated is because I believe it has been coopted by a transphobic hate movement. Feminist movements have a long history of being coopted and turned hateful for as long as feminism has probably existed, and a feminist movement being twisted by fascists makes me want to look at what were the factors and causations for this cooptation??

so one I believe that radical feminism was quite radical in its hay day and its best qualities have lived on in other feminist movements, like the radical, direct action pretty much anarchistic methods of taking down the patriarchy and anarchistic ways of organizing, i think we gotta take notes of that and keep it up in 2025. But some of that feminist militancy (right word idk?) is very appealing to fascist 'feminists'. I'll give a historical example; the suffragette movement for the right to vote, in the us and uk the suffrage movement had a ton of issues regarding racism, many of them did not include black women and further oppressed them, many famous suffragettes were anti black, and that bled into their politics. Check out this article ab it: https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2017/04/why-the-british-union-fascist-movement-appealed-to-so-many-women.html <-this article talks about suffragists who joined fascist groups during the rise of fascism and still claimed they were feminists, doing feminism, just like how extremist TERFS do now adays who were previously "radfems"

So, to answer ur question, in this case radical feminist movement being dominated by white women has a big contributer to why It has been easily co-opted. And if you're wondering WHY radical feminism in the first place was mostly a white women movement, you can look to bell hooks criticisms of the culture of radical feminism that caused it to be alienating women of colour (at the time) from the movement, in her book feminist theory: from margin to center. One of which is feminist movement undermining intersections with their movement such as race and class. A big thing in this book that bell hooks talks about, is how the radical feminist movement then (and a little bit now) advocated for seperatism in feminist movement. A reflection of the race and class of the women who dominated this movement in its early days, because as a bourgeois woman, they probably didnt have very meaningful connections with men, in bourgeouis society women are kept in the house as trophies for the bourgeois man, meanwhile women of colour and women of lower class status, despite also being oppressed by men including in their own communities, had a lot of scenarios where they had to organize together with men, men and women as comrades due to shared oppression. From what I remember she makes an emphasis on how this is the case for a lot of black women in america who felt alienated from the radical feminist movement due to seperatist rhetoric.

And in case it isn't clear, the downfall to every feminist movement is lack of intersectionality. If the movement isnt for the liberation of all, then its really for no one but for opportunistic reactionaries to take over and use for their own selfish means. i.e fascists, terfs, etc etc. Basically all of these issues and criticisms of radical feminism are weaknesses, holes if you will that allow in the poison that is reactionary rhetoric and eventually fascism. If you want to learn more about this particular criticism again i implore u to read bell hooks book "feminist theory: from margin to center" (and check out other feminist others who criticize radical feminism bell hooks isnt the only one)

So now modern day, 2025 radical feminism, to me is outdated precisely because i believe it is 100% coopted. The main reason its coopted is because radical feminism is the main feminist movement that causes rifts between woc and the white women in the movement (and yes i know theres also tons of woc in the radfem movement too but to this day the movement itself is still dominated by bourgeois white women and they have the loudest voices in the movement) and modern radical feminist movement still has major major rifts between the transgender community,., and other feminist movements like intersectional feminism is not like that, on the contrary it highlights trans issues. Many trans people are in the intersectional community but from what ive seen irl and on tumblr, most trans ppl i interact with are terrified of radfems.. Many of them don't even know there exist non-transphobic radfems and that means the movement has been dominated, and twisted in the public perception to be a fascist movement and that means its been co-opted.

2) To me intersectional feminism shines a light on the overlapping "intersections" of oppression, examples like how black women experience not just misogyny but antiblack racism, many of which people call "misogynoir" and, then say a black trans women will not just experience misogynoir but also transphobia, many intersectional feminists would now call that "transmisogynoir", these things are more than just ideas and concepts. Misogynoir and transmisogynoir is the leading factor for black women and transgender black women being murdered, assaulted, gone missing in many places all over the world. Indigenous women have unique experiences with colonialism and racism along with misogyny. Women all over the world are being murdered, but the most oppressed of those women are the most vulnerable due to all of the systemic reasons for that, the most vulnerable of us get hit the hardest by capitalist racist patriarchy.

For me the core goals of intersectional feminism, is ironically the same core goal of radical feminism, the root of the problem. But intersectional feminism feels like it looks deeper, the fight for feminism isn't simply just "womens liberation" the fight for true womens liberation is a fight against capitalism, by extension its a fight against structural racism and that includes psych abolition and prison abolition and the abolishment of cops all over the world. The fight for feminism is a fight against the ruling class, the fight against coloniialism and imperialism. That means the fight for feminism means death to america, death to canada, death to israel and all other settler colonies for the liberation of indigenous peoples. The fight for feminism is a fight for everyones liberation. No one is liberated until we all are and i think thats what it means to advocate for intersectional feminism. If you want to read more on this type of feminism authors I recommend: bell hooks, Angela Y. Davis, Kimberle Crenshaw, Julia Serano, please read kimberle crenshaw's paper on the intersection of race and class.

[lurkerdelima]

A whole bunch of character asks! Feel free to answer however many about Jesse or Delphi or both <3

Appearance: 10, 12

Objects: 3, 12

Food and Drink: 15

Community and relationships: 9, 18

Mind, Body, and Soul: 5, 14

Thank you! ❤️

I just kind of decided to answer them all for both lol. This was so fun!

Appearance

10. If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

Jesse doesn’t love spending money on clothes, but he would absolutely pay out the nose for a good pair of boots. Leather work boots that’ll last like 20 years if properly cared for (which he would do, religiously, to the point that it’s almost an intimate experience).

Delphi is a little more inclined to spend money on what he wears, but I think he’d also buy shoes. Probably less practical ones than his dad, though.

12. Has your character gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

Jesse hasn’t really changed stylistically; he picked a subculture he liked in middle school and has styled himself as a metalhead ever since. He has gone through some physical changes - mostly getting a ton of tattoos and a few piercings.

Delphi is only 19 as I’m answering these questions so he’s changed a lot over the past few years! He also styles himself as a bit of a metalhead, currently, and tends to steal Jesse’s clothes, something he started doing just as soon as he got big enough to fit in them.

Objects

3. What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

For Jesse, cars. He drives an old truck that he’s very proud of, and he notices other people’s cars (and judges them accordingly). Sometimes he’ll be mid-conversation and just stop because a cool car went by and distracted him.

For Delphi, shiny rocks. Literally, he has a crystal collection in his room, and has a moonstone necklace he never takes off.

12. Does your character personify objects?

Both of them do, but for different reasons and to different degrees.

Jesse will personify things that he uses all the time and that he is especially proud of and/or invested in (see: his truck Superbeast). Delphi is more the ‘will pack bond with anything’ type who gives voices to inanimate objects etc.

Food & Drink

15. What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Jesse - fast food in general, but specifically Taco Bell. They live in Arizona so they have access to a lot of great real Mexican food, but sometimes you just want plasticky nacho cheese, you know?

Delphi - bulk gummy candy from this one store in the mall. He likes to get a bag and fill it with all kinds of gummy creatures, then eat them until his stomach hurts.

Community & Relationships

9. Where is your character's comfort place?

Their apartment, for both. Delphi has spent most of his life there, so they both have a lot of fond, nostalgic memories associated with it.

18. What is your character's favorite form of affection?

Delphi - words of affirmation. He’s very much the type to thrive on being told he’s doing something right, he’s special, etc.

Jesse - physical touch. He’s super cuddly with people he loves (as long as they’re okay with it), and has been known to hook up with strangers when he’s feeling unloved.

Mind, Body, and Soul

5. What words could tear your character down?

Jesse - anything along the lines of ‘you’re a bad father, you’ve screwed your kid up,’ etc. He is fiercely protective of Delphi and doesn’t ever want to do anything to make his life worse.

Delphi - ‘you’re too much.’ He knows he’s a lot and pretends to be chill about it, but he worries that he’s too loud, obnoxious, angry, etc for people to accept him and like him.

14. Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Jesse - ‘you’re doing a great job,’ because raising a kid on your own is really hard and he would appreciate the acknowledgment.

Delphi - ‘you’re fine exactly as you are, and you have time to figure everything out.’ He worries sometimes about not having a big life plan because it seems like everyone else has one.

[harleyshahas]

This has been driving me crazy all afternoon and I have to put this down somewhere so feel free to ignore me;

I've been thinking about the who's the sexiest person that comes to mind immediately thing, and the my legit answer is my husband. He's not the most conventionally attractive man out there, but I love him so much, he makes me laugh, and just generally makes my day better by being within my line of sight. I could gush about him forever, but I'm not cuz I have thoughts to put down, but he's my person and I choose him every time.

That said, when I see/get questions like this, I get legitimately confused. What is sexy? Because I've been questioning my possible asexuality for almost 10 years now, and this is a question I honestly have trouble answering.

People are not sexy to me. They're a body, and to be honest, most of them look the same to me. I see actors/actresses on TV and movies and people I know (hubs included) tell me how hot they think they are but all I see is another guy with the same face as the other guy in the last thing I watched. That woman looks the same as this other one, and it's like a neverending loop of same person-ness, and it legit distresses me sometimes. Glen Powell and Sydney Sweeney are considered some of the hottest people in Hollywood right and I they just look like average people to me.

But then I look at an animated character (Pitch, for example), and I wonder what makes him so attractive to me. Even Jack Frost looks like the cute, boy-next-door type (yes, this is a small commentary on the same faced models of Disney characters). But Jack's personality is different from most. He's snarky, he's mischievous, he's a moody teenager, but he's fun. He finds fun in every situation, and his biggest goal is to make everyone around him smile with it. He's charming outside of being simply cute. So what attracts me to someone like Pitch?

Physically speaking, he stands out. Studios seem to enjoy creating their villains to be the opposite of what's conventionally attractive to be what they would probably consider ugly. But it's not ugly, not really. It's beautifully human. People on the street don't look like they do in Hollywood; they're not model thin or rocking defined abs and a chiseled face. While those things may be considered attractive for some, they're not to everyone. Pitch has a long face, a big, wide nose, eyes set far apart, and he's lanky as hell. And I've see people with these features on the street, and they stand out more than the same-face models, and they're beautiful in their own way. Maybe even more so. Other characters that stand out similarly are (also villains, go figure) are guys like Killian from Spies in Disguise, Mandrake from Epic, and Bog from Strange Magic. That's not even getting into the classic Disney villains of Hook, Silver, Ursula, Ratigan, Rourke, Maleficent, Facilier - each of these villains have excellent designs, but because they're villains they were created with features in mind that are considered unattractive by most. They're either too fat or too lanky, with big noses and long faces. Animation can get away with having "ugly" characters like this. Real life can't because Hollywood only employs "beautiful" people.

But these characters all have personality. They're larger than life, dialed up to 11 every second they're on screen, and they're often the best parts of any animated feature, and in my own opinion, it's because they break the mold. They're allowed to be melodramatic because they're "ugly," they can strut their stuff because they don't fit the script, and they're often as unapologetic as it gets. So when Belle sees the true face of the Beast for the first time, we can't blame her for being disappointed. Adam looks just like the guy next door, and that's not the face she and we fell in love with. Ultimately, it's the good inside him that attracts her, not the face of the Beast, and she's smart enough to realize that, but that doesn't mean it doesn't take a moment to reorientate to the new normal. Now she's gotta struggle to pick him out of a crowd of similar looking men.

It's like those stories of guys like Hugh Jackman and Henry Cavill walking down the street in their superhero gear, and no one recognizes them. It's because they look like any average Joe on the street (I should probably mention im not attracted to either of them, either).

But then I hear a hot voice (Jude Law, my love) coming out of an unconventionally attractive face, with all the snark and wit I love in a personality, and boom! Instant attraction. I think about this for other animated crushes I've had, like Meg from Hercules who doesn't really fit the character model for Disney princesses and all her snark and wit, and I can easily name her my first female crush as a child. I've been attracted to more animated characters in my life than actual real people- usually a combination of interesting design, voice, and personality.

Garrus Vakarian, my one true love (helps that he's, ya know. Not human).

Which brings me to "aliens and monsters are sexy because they're not human because humans are unattractive to me unless they stand out somehow."

[utilitycaster]

i saw a comment on reddit about what previous villains may return as result of magic prisons dispelling, like Trent or Vecna. And it got me thinking I prefer C2's separation from C1. While bringing 3 campaigns together is fun. With the Mighty Nein, Keyleth, J'mon, Vax and everyone involved it feels like Bell's Hells are a tiny cog in the wheel, not the heroes? Which is realistic. But (bar Imogen and Orym) it doesn't feel like their story anymore? They keep asking 'why us' and I don't know either

So I'm going to just state that I dislike and don't use Reddit as a platform anyway and have specific reasons to mistrust the CR Reddit's rules and moderation. I take any comment made on the Reddit with an entire shaker of salt and would advise people to just not look at it, because I don't think worthwhile discussion is encouraged there.

On the one hand, "why us" is at some point a question most D&D groups ask (and that does include Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein). This is such a massive undertaking that any one group or individual cannot just fix it, and significant and powerful NPCs are a normal part of the game even for past campaigns; J'mon couldn't fix all of Vox Machina's problems so there's no reason to believe they can fix Bells Hells' problems either. Bells Hells are a small cog right now, but missing a small cog will still entirely stop the gears from turning properly.

It's fair to say that because of the setup of this campaign, that sense of "why us" is heightened: most campaigns would probably either build up to the events of episode 51 as the final boss battle, or alternately introduce it very early, before the party can do much about it at all, as something they will build up to solving. Having it as the party hit mid-levels and when they were extremely involved in the lead-up, sometimes at the cost of character development/party meshing is admittedly tricky, and I've said before, the lead-in suffered at times. But that doesn't mean it's not their story. I have had my frustrations, and to be clear if we spend a protracted amount of time in Zephrah I will not be a fan of that specific decision, but since the solstice it has finally, to me, felt like they've been properly in the driver's seat.

I'd also add that my takeaway for quite some time from this campaign has been the theme that imperfect but thoughtful action nearly always is far superior to unrealized perfect ideology. "Why us" isn't really a question they need to answer. Who cares why. It is them, so it's time to shoulder that responsibility. Honestly it's when someone like Ludinus says "yes, it should be me" that we get problems. Had he perhaps looked at all of the things he claims are problems, after serving in positions of power within two separate major governments, and made an effort to actually fix them in real time rather than developing a centuries-long master plan involving draining the life out of various fey creatures, and blowing up the moon we might not be having these problems.

I do still prefer the Mighty Nein as a campaign for a number of reasons, and I still believe that a lot of what I found rough in the earlier campaign would have been improved by, if not the same limitations of the Nein, at least a similarly well-informed character creation process. But that's not something that can really be addressed now, and the appearance of, say, J'mon Sa'Ord is a nonissue entirely unrelated to that.

This is not the first question I've gotten in this vein recently so I'm going to repeat a bit more clearly: I respect people finding that this campaign isn't for them, and as all the above outlines I have had my own issues. However, this is something you should be talking about on your own blog and not my inbox. I probably will answer some, especially if I see a hook to talk about my thoughts, but I'm not going to be terribly validating to you if that's what you're looking for, and I'm not really a good person to vent to if that's all you want.

[mokimoriwrites]

1/6 - Stuff Keeps Going Missing

I have no idea how long this has been going on for.

I don't think I noticed it at first. It was just some little things that I started to notice this far into it all. 

When I first started to notice it, it was when some bigger things started happening a few months ago. 

I had been rushing to class, running late because I couldn't find my laptop for the rest of my life. I ended up leaving without it (the community computer sucks by the way). But when I got back home it was sitting neatly on my bed. 

I live alone, no roommates, no family, and none of my friends have keys. 

Whatever. I'm a sleep-deprived, ADHD college student. I sleep on the couch half the time because I'm too tired to get to my bedroom. I probably just missed it with my early morning brain fog, it's happened before. 

Then I wasn't able to find my house keys on my way to work one day. So I just left without them, grabbing the one pair of shares that were buried in my sock drawer from when I first moved in.

WHen I got back, they were hanging on their hook right next to the door, the little bell attached to the lucky cat charm on my keychain jingling as the AC blew it around. 

It was all little things like that when I first started noticing it. Like someone was snooping around or I was just being my typical clueless self. 

But then bigger things started to happen. 

Like the time I came back to a freshly made bed with clean fresh sheets on it. Something I had been procrastinating on doing for weeks now, sleeping on the couch instead. 

There would be new milk and fresh groceries in the fridge and pantry whenever iIarted running low on things. 

If I sit and think about it, things have been off for maybe a year or more. 

Lights would be on or off when they hadn't been before.

Vases of flowers would have their water topped off when I had been forgetting to do so for ages. 

Electronic devices would be turned off after I forgot to, or fully charged whenever I got back home. 

It seemed a little normal, oh I guess I forgot I did that, things at first. But now it was just weird and kind of creepy. 

I was thinking about one night being unable to fall asleep when I heard it. 

It sounded like my apartment door was opening. The soft thud and click made it close.

The jingle of keys being hung up. 

The whisper of feet as someone moved around.

The soft noises of someone trying to clean up quietly. 

I heard the murmur of the TV (which I had forgotten to turn off before going to bed, again) turned off and the little clinks of dishes being put away. 

Who was in the house?!

And why were they cleaning? 

I was too scared to do anything, this intruder seemed nice enough to pick up after me, but who knows? They could be armed!

So when I heard footsteps getting closer to my bedroom, and the door handle being gripped and twisted, I rolled over and shut my eyes, pretending to sleep like a little kid who's been caught staying up too late. 

Someone sat down on the bed next to me, curling up around me over the covers. 

“Hello, sweet thing.” Was all he whispered before gently kissing my ear. 

Then he just started talking. About his day, about his school and his work, about the things he did for me. 

The groceries he got for us (us?), the little things he had fixed in the apartment, and what he had taken to make copies of (explains how he got his keys then I guess.), and then he started asking me questions.

How my day was, how I was feeling if I had remembered to eat or drink today. How my schoolwork was going, if that rude and creepy guy from work was still bothering me. 

I know that whoever it was didn't expect me to answer or be awake, that much was obvious, and I know I should have just pretended to be asleep and let him think I didn't know anything about this so I could handle it all in the morning.

But I turned to look at him over my shoulder and just asked, “Who the hell are you?”

[weasleylangs]

swipe right / f.w

Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward.  Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention.  Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)

AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........

/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!

taglist / @amourtentiaa​ @weelittleweasley​ @lumos-barnes​​ @lumosandnoxwriting​​ @loveboyhalo​​ @harrysweasleys​​ @freds-slut​​ @rcwenaclaw​​ @barneswidow​ @fandomhideout​​​

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

Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile. 

She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.

Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long. 

‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’

It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something. 

She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.

“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.

“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth. 

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.

“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.” 

Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”

Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!” 

“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”

Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?” 

Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.

-----

It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what. 

It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind. 

Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling. 

“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in. 

“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.

“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.” 

Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter. 

“Did you at least swipe right on me?” 

It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.” 

She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.” 

“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.” 

“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.

“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.

“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”

“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people. 

When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will. 

He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.” 

He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.” 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile. 

“Of course, Freddie.” 

She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend. 

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.

-----

To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x 

Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.

From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x

She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel. 

It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass. 

“What happened today?” 

Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.

“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up. 

“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.” 

Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him. 

Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.” 

Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?” 

“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.

“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?” 

That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”

“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking. 

“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans. 

“You told me to stop being picky!” 

“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing. 

‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.

Fred, 24. 2km away.

“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.” 

Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.” 

Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”

“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother. 

“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.  

“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”

Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

-----

Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.

From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :) 

She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.  

To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;)  > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters

She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.

From: Fred

> im 7’5 if its that important :/ 

She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.

From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :) 

The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred. 

But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.

She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.

To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x

She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.

Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of  his little brother’s best friends. 

-----

Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him. 

“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.

“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?” 

George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?” 

Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”

“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.

“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.

Is he?

“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N. 

“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly. 

“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis. 

“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.” 

Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath. 

“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.

“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy. 

“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw. 

“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom. 

-----

Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet. 

It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together. 

Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred. 

“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?” 

Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet. 

He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure. 

“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up. 

“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.

“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.” 

Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves. 

“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”

He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at. 

Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead. 

But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything. 

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.

“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment. 

They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey. 

“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?” 

“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.

Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.” 

Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant. 

“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.

“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”

“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?” 

Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?” 

He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”

They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms. 

From: Neville  > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!

She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram. 

She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick. 

She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.

That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more. 

-----

The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.  

He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen. 

“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.

“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.

“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!” 

That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-” 

“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up. 

“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.” 

Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.

“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.

“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.” 

Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.” 

She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears. 

She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.

“Can I please kiss you before I die?” 

Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced. 

Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers. 

Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life. 

“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked. 

Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Good Girl, Bad Boy (Pt. 07 of 15)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: You're the extreme opposite of Billy Hargrove. The good girl, with perfect grades, the child every mother wants to have. And you don't want to have nothing to do with his kind. Ignoring Billy – and his constant, lingering stare – became an habit. But after you're put together for a special school program, you'll have no choice but to get along with him. And soon enough you'll find out that Billy is so much more than just Hawkins' bad boy.

<-Previous part (06)

Next part (08) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

��

Don't Go

Billy did threw the keychain away when he got home. It was on the trash can he has in his bedroom, beside the desk. It remained there, among a few school papers for half an hour before he took it again.

It went right back to it's previous place at the nightstand.

Billy is deliberately skipping class. It's the fourth day now, and he doesn't feel like he'll be returning tomorrow.

He leaves everyday at the same time he would for school, and returns after. But he drives to lonely places where he thinks he can run away from his own mind. But it is everywhere he goes.

She is everywhere he goes.

Billy Hargrove did considered going back to his old ways. He even managed to make his way to the phone, ready to call Stacy again. But when he picked up the phone, he caught himself halfway through her number. The number that belongs to the girl he can't stop thinking about. To the girl he can't ruin. Whose life he can't destroy.

She's too good for him, and he knows that. An angel, as stupid as it may sound coming from a asshole like him. Because that's what Billy thinks he is. He'd live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve (Y/N). Her smile, her laughter, her blushing cheeks. Her amazing, sweet scent, that shine in her eyes when she looks at him.

What does that even mean?

Billy is looking at Hawkins, parked on this cliff. (Y/N) would like it, and he wonders if she ever came here. Probably not, since the only people who know this place are those who come here for a hook up. There are a lot of places Billy would like to show her, some of them would take an hour drive through the woods, but it's worth it. He found them soon after getting into town, because he couldn't handle to stay still, so he drove. Pretty much as he's doing now, constantly running away from something that's inside of him.

Sighing, he pushes the car door close. At this time, he should be leaving school, going to her place as always. Today they'd go over the Biology class, if he's not mistaken. (Y/N) loves it, mostly when it's about animals. She loves birds. She didn't had to tell him that, he got it from the way she smiled as the teacher spoke.

These little things, the small details, as silly as they may be, are making him fall harder.

But he can't.

Well, he can.

But not her. Billy knows who he was. Or who he still is. So he knows what people will say about her. They'll call (Y/N) mean names, say she's just another of his sluts. And that's something he can't do, not to her.

But despite knowing this is the right thing to do, it hurts. It hurts that he has to step away from her, for good this time. Billy doesn't know how he'll live from now on without their daily meetings. Without her soft voice, her sweet scent inebriating him every damn time.

He has it bad.

It's only worse because he remembers it clearly, that day at that stupid parlor, how she said they could try. They could wait and see what happens.

That was a chance. A small one, that probably would lead to nothing, but still, a chance. Something he never thought he'd get. Not with (Y/N). But now, he won't even try anymore.

This might be love, he thinks. Putting someone else's well being before his own.

It's a hard thing to acknowledge, but when it's real, there's no way to run from it.

Sighing, Billy starts the car, putting the daisy keychain on the passenger seat. For a moment he sees her image, looking at him and smiling. On the next second, it's gone.

With a weight on his chest, he maneuvers the car, heading back to the hell on Earth he calls home.

“I don't know, Nan. He just... He disappeared. Like smoke in the air and I don't know why.” Sitting shotgun in Nancy's car, you let your heart out. Billy didn't show up at school last week, and not today either. It's been five days already, and he doesn't even answer your calls.

“You know Billy Hargrove, (Y/N). I'm not impressed with this sudden change and neither should you.”

“No, Nan...” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh. “Trust me, Billy... He's not like that. Not with me at least and I know what you'll say. That he lies to get girls but... I've seen how he treats them and so have you. He... He never yelled at me, or called me bad names, he...” You're defending him. The idiot fled with no explanation and still, you're defending him.

“(Y/N), I trust your judgment.” She stops by your place, turning her body towards you. “If what you're saying it true, go after him.”

“I–”

“Look, I get that you don't want to talk about it because you're scared of having feelings for the bad boy, and I'll wait until you're ready, but honestly, I think you know what you feel.”

Looking down at your hands, you blush. “I really like to be around him, Nancy.” Your voice is low and weak, as you admit it to her and to yourself at the same time. “And I miss him.”

“Don't call him, then. Go after him.” She touches your shoulder, smiling. “...Just don't let Steve know Billy is making you sad because you know he'll freak out.”

“God, no!” Giggling, you reach for your bag on the backseat. Steve looks out for you, even now, and it's good to know he has your back. But you definitely don't need the two guys having a fight over some misunderstanding. “Tell him I'm fine. Because I am. I'll... I'll fix things. And if Billy does want to stay away from me for whatever reason... I'll be alright.”

“Good luck and call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you, Nan.” Giving her a hug, you step out of the car, heading inside. “Mom! I'm home!”

“Hi, darling!” She shouts from upstairs. Taking the chance, you run to the phone, quickly dialing Billy's number. It's not the first time you call, and whenever he picks up, you say ‘hello’ and the call is cut. It breaks your heart every time.

“Who's this?” A female voice answers, slightly pissed.

Relieved, you breathe out. “Hi, Max. It's (Y/N).”

“AKA the reason why the shitface has been locked in his bedroom like a jerk.” She speaks fast, and you furrow your eyebrows and giggle. “I think Billy is in love with you or something.”

“What?” Max says as if it's no big deal, as if she didn't made your heart start beating insanely fast, neck and cheeks heating up. “I-I don't think–”

“Billy never gets upset over a girl so...” Her voice fades, and you hear something in the back, wondering if it's Billy. “He has your keychain, by the way. A daisy flower.”

“Keychain?” You don't remember any keychains, so you just sigh, pacing around. “Max, can you do me a favor? I'm going there so don't let Billy go anywhere. And when I ring the door bell, let him answer it, please.”

“Alright. But don't take too long. Neil will be back around eight.”

“I'm going now. Thanks.” And you hang up, heading to the front door. “Mom, I'm going to get Billy!”

“Alright!” Good thing she doens't ask much questions, God bless her for that.

You try not to drive too fast, and you try to tell yourself this is no big deal. But you don't know what will happen. Preparing yourself for a heartbreak sounds good, so you decide to expect the worse.

So when you're parking on the sidewalk in front of Bill'y house, you know what you'll do. You'll put a finger on his face and ask what the hell he's thinking skipping class like that.

When you reach the front door, you realize you've never been here. Well, Billy did dropped his sister a few times before driving back to your place. And then, you're whole act drops. “Damn it.” Pressing the door bell, you wonder if you'd have enough time to just run back to the car and leave. There's a discussion inside the house, with Billy telling Max to get the door, and she refusing. You would have time to run, but you decide to be brave. So you stand your ground, pressing the bell again.

“Damn you, Maxine.” Billy groans, and on the next second the door is violently pulled open.

You freeze, watching as Billy's face drops. “Hi.” You mutter, looking down at your hands, blushing. You shouldn't be here. This is stupid. Whatever Billy said at Scoops Ahoy, it's over. But still, you want to try. To break through him, even if it means you'll be pushed further away. “C-can we talk?”

There's silence, several seconds of silence. And you curse yourself. Billy would never like you. He's the bad boy Nancy warns you about, that girls like you should avoid. Biting your lip, you feel your throat burning, tears wanting to make their way to your eyes.

“Nevermind, I shouldn't have come.” Pushing the words out, you turn on your heels to leave. But Billy grabs your arm, forcing you to stop. “Let go.” You beg, looking back at him. Your heart is breaking and you don't even know why. You just need to be away from Billy right now, and from all these feelings boiling inside you.

“No, please, just... Don't go.” His grip gets loose, and his hand slides from your forearm to your hand, and he holds it, pulling you inside. “Come in.”

Taking a deep breath, you weakly nod, letting him pull you into the house.

×

@multific @clockworkballerina @tina1938 @graciehams @moatsnow @all-the-stars-on-your-skin @captain039 @rebelemilu @vivian-likes-frogs @prettyinpunk85

[c-optimistic]

Hallo! I greatly enjoy your writing, for everything really, and whenever you get the chance and some inspo hits, wouldya write somethin sweet and gay? Whatever you're feeling, I'm sure I'll enjoy it! Thank you v kindly and I hope you have a lovely evening/day!

Kara shifted in the chair, feeling a tiny bit uneasy. Her nurse—a young woman who introduced herself as Nia when Kara had been called from the waiting room—smiled kindly and paused her typing on the desktop situated on the study table in the examination room.

“First time getting your eyes checked?” she said knowingly, voicing the question though the answer was clear in Kara’s fidgeting hands and on Nia’s computer screen, proclaiming Kara to be a first-time patient. “You shouldn’t worry, Dr. Luthor is the best ophthalmologist in the business. She’s world renowned, not that she’d ever admit to it.” It seemed like that last part was more for Nia’s benefit than Kara’s, said in a slightly miffed mumble as she turned her attention back to the computer. “Any known allergies?”

Kara blinked, feeling a bit trapped. “Um, no, but—”

“—we don’t have any medications listed for you. Is that right? You’re not on any prescriptions?”

“Oh, no. I’m not. But I—”

“—I see you wear glasses. When was the last time you got a prescription? Did you want to get new frames, we can—” Finally Kara had enough. She reached out and grabbed Nia’s hand, causing her to fall silent. “This is weird. Is this a come on? Because you’re really pretty, but I don’t swing that way.” 

“No, I—wait, what?” Kara released Nia, feeling as though she’d been burned. “No! Not a—not a come on, I would never—”

“Look, it’s okay. I didn’t think so, you seem...well, nice. But I have a lawyer friend who owes me a favor so...I can have you sued. Just so you know.” She narrowed her eyes in an attempt, unsuccessful unfortunately, to look intimidating. “So what is it? You look like I tried to drown your cat.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Kara confessed, meeting Nia’s eyes steadily. The nurse blinked owlishly at her, clearly lost.

“I don’t follow,” she said, confirming what Kara already knew. 

“Look, I’m going to trust you, okay? There’s nothing actually wrong with my eyes. Or my health in general. I’m in like perfect health. By human standards, maybe more than perfect. But I don’t want to sound arrogant or anything, you know?”

Nia’s head was cocked to one side as she studied Kara. “Sorry, I still don’t follow.” 

“I’manalien,” Kara said in a rush, and judging from the way Nia’s eyes widened and her expression cleared, she understood Kara perfectly. 

“Well that explains all...that,” she gestured wildly to Kara. “So what’s the issue? Dr. Luthor is super supportive of aliens. She’s one of the only doctors in National City to—”

“—I don’t need glasses!” Kara interrupted, not really needing to hear about Dr. Luthor. “Look, I’m only here because,” she paused, not sure if she was willing to give the long explanation of how her work mishap, the stupid excuse she’d mumbled out, and a well-meaning coworker’s insistence to help (with a voice in Kara’s head that sounded suspiciously like Alex reminding her to keep her secret identity secret when she tried to get out of the whole thing) led her here to this moment, “it doesn’t matter. I just need your help. Tell the doctor I don’t need to be seen, give me a fake prescription, and I can go on my way.” 

Nia frowned, shaking her head. “Dr. Luthor would never buy it, and she has to sign the prescriptions. She’s very particular about it. You’re here, you may as well just...get your eyes checked?”

“My alien eyes that can shoot lasers and see through anything but lead? Those eyes?” 

“That’s so cool,” Nia breathed out, but she was focused. She pulled a drawer open and pulled out to eye drops. “One is to numb, the other is to dilate.” She paused, eyeing the bottles then Kara. “Would you even need a numbing agent?” 

Kara resisted the urge to tell Nia that her cousin once had a bullet to the eye and it just dropped to the ground, harmless to a Kryptonian. Instead, she leaned her head back, allowing Nia to apply the drops, reassuring her the whole time that she’d help with Dr. Luthor. She winked at Kara before slipping out of the exam room, leaving only a single dimmed light on, assuring her the “doctor would be in soon.” 

Kara closed her eyes—which felt no different from before she’d gotten the eye drops—and leaned her head back. She couldn’t leave, she didn’t want to stay, and she was just about to declare this one of the worst days in the last year at best, when there was a knock at the door and it swung open. 

And standing there, bathed in the bright light of the hallway, was the most beautiful woman Kara had ever seen, a grinning—and all too smug—Nia standing right behind her. 

She had long dark hair, brilliantly green eyes, wore the tightest dress Kara had ever seen, with heels that she was sure were murder to walk in all day. The sleeves of her white coat were rolled up to her forearms, her bright red lips were curved into a breathtaking smile. 

“Hi,” said the walking angel, “I’m Dr. Lena Luthor. Nia tells me you wanted to check your eye pressure and get a new prescription?” 

Kara nodded numbly, struck dumb by Dr. Luthor’s easy grace. 

Nia snickered, actually snickered, as she closed the door behind them, leaning against it as Lena pulled a chair in front of Kara and motioned for her to bring her face up to the tonometer. “Forehead against, yes, and chin on the rest down there...perfect,” Dr. Luthor said gently, her voice like honey. Kara couldn’t help it, her eyes followed Dr. Luthor’s, wanting to memorize the shade. She was so busy trying to decide whether it was an emerald or sea green, forgetting entirely her misgivings about being here in the first place, that she missed the first part of Nia’s attempt to ‘help.’

“—quite extraordinary, don’t you think?” Nia finished, causing Dr. Luthor to pull slightly away, cheeks tinged pink. 

For the first time, Lena Luthor was something just below perfection, stumbling over her words a little as she responded. “Oh, yes, um. They are. Looking at eyes is my job, Ms. Danvers, but yours are—well, like Nia said, so unprofessionally, they’re quite extraordinary.” She leaned back in, looking a little interested. “In fact, they’re almost—”

“—your eyes are very green,” Kara blurted, both because she was thinking it with Dr. Luthor’s face so incredibly close and because she wasn’t sure if she wanted a world renowned ophthalmologist looking too carefully at her eyes, lest she see something, well, inhuman. “Do your patients ever mention that?”

“For sure, but you’re probably the first person Dr. Luthor wants to hear it from,” Nia said, which had the doctor in question turn around and flash her a dirty look, and had Kara spluttering. 

“Your lawyer friend should sue you,” Kara managed before refocusing her attention on Dr. Luthor. “I’m really sorry about commenting on your eyes. That was rude. I said the quiet part out loud. Can the numbing agent for the eyes cause a loose tongue?” 

It was the stupidest thing to say, Kara knew it as soon as the words escaped her, embarrassment heating her cheeks and the back of her neck as Nia choked on laughter and Dr. Luthor seemed, well, angelic. 

“You know, Nia tells me you have very interesting eyes,” Dr. Luthor said, her tone and the stressing of ‘interesting’ making it very clear Nia had told her about the laser vision. “You don’t need a doctor.”

“I need a fake prescription.”

“I can write you a note instead,” the doctor offered, getting Kara to lean back in her chair and tugging the tonometer out of the way. “Would that work?” 

“Could you say I can’t see with my old glasses and that’s why I ran into a table and knocked over a coworker’s favorite mug, not that I broke it by trying to heat their coffee with my laser vision?” 

Dr. Luthor laughed, the sound like the jingling of bells. It was beautiful and was thoroughly distracting. “I think that’s a lot for a note. What about, you have vision issues I’ve never seen before?” 

Kara thought about it for a moment, then nodded, sticking her hand out for the doctor who stared at it with a fond smile on her lips. “You’ve got a deal, Dr. Luthor,” she said, waiting for the angel to take her hand. After several seconds, during which Lena Luthor met and held Kara’s gaze, she reached out and took Kara’s hand, her index and middle finger sliding against the inside of Kara’s wrist. She opened her mouth—to say what, Kara wasn’t sure—when Nia cut in.

“In return for the note, Kara will take you to coffee. Oh look you shook on it! That’s an oral contract, my lawyer friend will sue you if you don’t go on that date.”

Kara blushed and glared at Nia, ready to let the doctor off the hook, but Dr. Luthor’s grip on her hand tightened. And when Kara’s eyes met Lena Luthor’s incredibly green ones, she noticed they were crinkled in a smile. 

“When we go to coffee,” she said softly, “you have to call me Lena. All my dates do.” 

[aiekerman]

Easy - Eren Jaeger

Eren Jaeger x Reader - fluff, college!au

AN - If you saw me post this before, no you didn’t. But in actuality it is a repost I just changed it to second person oops. But anyway, hopefully anyone who sees it for the second time likes it again lol. 

(A part 2 and/or prequel does exist for this in my brain if anyone was ever interested!)

Song vibes: Easy by Troye Sivan ft. Kasey Musgraves

Summary - Just a pair of friends that definitely do not like each other. But leave their rooms at midnight for each other with no hesitation, and know each other’s food orders, and are low-key affectionate with each other.  A pair of friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N: Hey :)

Eren drags his head out of his textbook as his phone goes off. Pushing stray hairs back off his forehead and out of his eyes. His tired eyes lit slightly at the sight of your name. His fingers quickly replying

Eren: Hey u

He glances at the time, 12.03 am, he frowns, worried whyyou were awake so late. Three bubbles appear on his screen as he waits for your reply to arrive.

Y/N: U up?

Eren: I’m texting u back aren’t I?

Her reply takes slightly longer this time, and his mouth crooks up at the side, picturing the eye roll you were most definitely doing.

Y/N: Shut up

You know what I mean

Eren: Yeah I’m up

Last minute studying

He pulls the phone from its charger and leans back in his chair, one foot against the desk leg and swinging back slightly. You take a little longer to reply and his eyes drift to the top of the screen where your contact picture is. His mouth betrays him again and a smile ghosts over it. 

The picture is simple. A candid of you sat proudly in front of a sandcastle you were making at the beach during spring break. Your legs splayed either side of it, covered in sand. You were smiling up at someone, probably Sasha, your hair a wavy, salty mess, blowing in the sea breeze.

Your reply finally comes, vibrating the phone in his hand and dragging him from his thoughts. He rolls his eyes at your message.

Y/N: Midnight Taco Bell run? :)

Eren: Have you been smoking?

Y/N: No I just also happen to be doing midnight work and have a craving

His fingers move to reply before another message comes through, very quickly, and he pauses.

Y/N: And I miss your dumb face

Eren: You mean my pretty face?

Y/N: I change my mind I’m asking Jean

Eren: Shut up I’m getting ready now

Y/N: :))

Eren chucks the phone over to his bed, staring at his textbook for a second. He knows he should keep studying, or better yet, go to bed. But he misses you too. He stands from the seat and shuffles around his room, quietly as possible. Armin was definitely asleep and would definitely make a dumb comment about Eren being whipped for someone he wasn’t even dating.

Eren brushes off the thought and pulls his sneakers on, swaps his gym shorts for sweatpants and scrapes his hair back into the best bun he can manage. 

After wandering out of his room he grabs his keys and wallet from by the door and shuts it over with the quietest click he can manage. 

On his walk to his car he sends one more text.

Eren: Getting in the car now

Eren: I’ll be like 10 mins

Y/N: I’ll be the cute one in pyjamas ;)

He laughs at the flirtatious message before switching on his car and driving off. 

His mind doubles back to what would be Armin’s comments on the situation. They weren’t dating, but flirting between friends was entirely normal. He shakes off feeling the need to justify his relationship with you. You were friends, best friends. That almost hooked up once. The first time you met. But now you were just friends.

Before he even realises it he’s pulling up at the kerb by your building, his eyes glancing up to the door and watching a shadowy figure emerge. His head leans back against the headrest when her form comes into the dim street lights.

You’re dressed the same as him, sweatpants hugging your hips and an oversized hoodie drowning your top half. He squints for a second, was that his hoodie? Nah, it probably wasn’t, you had similar taste in hoodies anyway. You push the hood back when you reach the car, a mess of hair tumbling out around your face. It resembled a bedhead, but he knew you well enough to conclude you’d been sleepily running hands through it all night to make the mess. Tugging at the roots in efforts to stay focused on whatever it was you were working on.

You tug the door open and pull yourself into the seat. Situating yourself before turning to him and pushing your glasses up her nose, foregoing contacts at this hour, ‘Hi.’

He smiles down at your smaller form, ‘Hey you.’

‘Let’s get going.’

He raises an eyebrow at you, watching you slide down in the seat. Your eyes are wide as you stare back, ‘What?’

‘Seatbelt.’

You roll your eyes and push yourself back up, reaching for the seatbelt, ‘Yes, mother.’

Hearing the belt click in place he pulls off, satisfied with your safety being secured.

You grab his phone from the cupholder, and push it under his face slightly, not obstructing his view but close enough for him to give it a quick glance and unlock his face ID for you. You start scrolling spotify and find your combined playlist, made with midnight food runs in mind. RnB starts flowing out of his speakers.

Dropping the phone back in the cupholder you turn to look at his profile, ‘So what you been studying for?’

‘Psychology final, not until next week but after I kinda bombed the midterm I don’t wanna be caught off guard. You?’

‘Final project is due in two weeks. I’ve kinda got it finished but I’m not sure.’

He smiles, knowing you were just being a perfectionist about it.

‘Am I gonna get to read it?’

‘Why do you want to?’ You laugh at him, looking over at his profile that was focused on the road ahead, but seeing his lip was pulled up in a smirk.

‘Cause you haven’t shut up about it all year, I wanna know if all the support snacks I’ve bought you have been worth it.’

You scrunch up your face and shove it down into the hoodie you were adorned in. It smelt like Eren. Wait, was this his hoodie?

‘Huh, nothing to say back?’ His grin is too smug as he steals a look at you. You glare up at him, ‘Shut up.’ 

Silence settles over you in the last minutes before you approach the destination. You push yourself up to sit when the glowing sign comes into view, your eyes lighting up again.

‘Drive thru or sit in?’ Eren questions, approaching slowly as he waits for an answer.

‘Sit in, please.’ He nods before swinging into a parking spot.

You both jump out and Eren rounds the car to your side, bumping you with his hip in greeting now you were out of the car. His hands are stuffed in his pockets but you grab hold of his sweatshirt sleeve gently as you start joking about how you had to sneak out without setting off Sasha’s food radar.

Inside you bounce ahead of him slightly, up to one of the self serve screens and start ordering. He smiles softly at how you had to shuffle the too-long hoodie sleeve up to let your hand emerge.

He comes behind you and places his chin on top of your head, watching as you confidently tapped at the different items.

‘You haven’t asked what I wanted yet.’ 

‘I know your Taco Bell order, idiot.’

‘Maybe I want something different this time.’

‘No you don’t.’

The screen goes black for a second while loading the checkout and he glances at your reflection. You push your glasses up your nose, looking up and sticking your tongue out at him when you see his eyes already on you. 

He smiles before ruffling at your already messy hair and standing back to pull out his wallet. Glancing up, he catches you doing the same and suddenly moves quicker, as do you. Whipping out his bank card and reaching around you to tap it on the terminal, the familiar beep of a successful transaction going off before you can push your card in the bottom slot.

Eren grins in triumph while you stuff your wallet back in the hoodie and grumble, ‘Stupid contactless card.’

You pull the receipt from the machine while he walks over towards a booth, dropping into the seat and stretching his legs out while watching you.

Your hands are shoved into the hoodie, you sway and shuffle around on you feet. Standing still was never one of your strong suits. 

A smile takes over Eren’s face as you yawn and rubs at your eyes, pulling the hood up over your head and pulling at the strings slightly. He chuckles at the image of your head being swallowed. You turn at the sound and frown at him, mouthing out ‘don’t laugh at me.’ Prompting his laughter to continue on.

He settles back in the booth when their number is called and you wander up to accept the tray of food.

Dropping yourself down across from him, the two of you automatically begin splitting out their food, almost instinctively knowing which packages were for who; Eren always had the nachos, you never deviated from fries. 

You ate in silence for just a moment before you pick up conversation again, ‘Are you gonna go to Jean’s party after finals?’

‘So bold of you to assume Jean could pull off a decent party without me.’ He smiled, stuffing a bite of his burrito in his mouth as you giggle. ‘What about you?’

‘I mean yeah probably, if everyone else is going.’

‘Well, Jean has got me and Connie roped in to help with set up, so Connie will make Sasha go, and Sasha will make Mikasa go, who will make Armin go, who will make sure I don’t flake off early and I’ll make sure you stay.’

‘Connie and I.’ You correct, reaching for your drink.

‘Shut up.’

‘Also, Eren Jaeger flaking early from a party is wholeheartedly unheard of.’

‘I left the last one early because someone needed to be walked home after throwing up.’

You pause with the straw at your mouth, eyes narrowing in a glare. 

‘You can’t get too messy this time anyway. Bertolt is gonna be there.’

You scrunch up your face in confusion, ‘Why’d you say his name like that.’

‘Because, you haven’t got laid since spring break, he’s cute and you said you guys have gotten super close from your fiction writing class.’

You roll your eyes at the tall boy’s explanation and shrug, ‘He’s kinda cute. I guess. And we haven’t gotten super close, we barely knew each other before the class.’

‘Exactly, he’s at perfect arm’s length for a hook up. You deserve it after all the stressing you’ve done this semester.’

You shrug again. Setting your drink back on the table and leaning back, your feet stretching out to bump against Eren’s, you think about it.

Eren watches you, yourr eyes staring out into space. Bertolt was cute, he didn’t get around that much from what Eren had heard of the boy, but he was sweet enough that he knew he could trust him with you, even just for a night.

But even as he looked you over, dark circles beginning to shadow under your eyes, figure swamped in your loungewear and hot sauce staining one edge of your mouth. You were way out of Bertolt’s league.

‘You’re probably way too good for him anyway.’

‘Even just for a hookup?’ Your eyes meet his green ones, your mouth showing a teasing smile starting to form.

He stuffs more burrito in his mouth and nods.

‘You think I’m too good for everyone.’

He swallows and reaches for his drink, ‘cause you are.’

‘Was I too good for you, is that why you didn’t have sex with me?’ You start grinning and laughing as he chokes on his drink. He leans an elbow on the table as he coughs, glaring at you through his lashes.

Eren sticks a hand out at you and gestures for you to cough it up. You pull a dollar from your wallet and stuffs it in his hand.

He imagines it’s the same dollar he gave you last week after he joked about your almost hook up. The metaphorical ‘don’t talk about the time we almost had sex’ jar was essentially the same dollar passed back and forth.

‘Was that one worth it?’ He raises an eyebrow at your giggling face as you reaches to open your crunchwrap, nodding in a satisfied manner.

You hold the hexagonal taco in your small hands and Eren chuckles. You eye him, taking your first bite and speaking out a muffled, ‘What?’

‘Your tiny hands always make those things look huge.’

‘Maybe your meaty boy’s hands just make it look small.’

He sticks a hand out in front of you, palm spread out to show the full size, ‘My hands are not meaty. And they’re no bigger than average.’

‘What are you talking about?’ You mirror him, lifting your hand to press a palm against his, the tips of your fingers just brushing above the second knuckle. 

‘Your hands are just tiny.’

‘No, they only look small because yours are huge.’

You both fall silent, two sets of eyes trained on your pressed together hands. Eren ignores the feel of his heart pounding up against his chest.

What was wrong? They’d held hands before? 

The ring of your phone blaring out an alarm drew both of them from the trance. Eren slid his fingers to interlock with your’s, playfully pushing your hand back towards your body.

‘Who’s calling you at this hour?’

‘No one, I, uh, I set an alarm for one thirty am. Otherwise we’d sit here all night, knowing the two of us.’

He lets out a small laugh, nods in agreement and starts to gather up your trash. His eyes run over your face just before standing, choosing not to make fun of the blush gracing your cheeks.

You stand and fall in stride next to him, bumping his hips with your own and poking his side, ‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘Got your eye on anyone for Jean’s party?’

‘Nah, I’d rather just chill. I’ll probably spend half the night making sure Jean stays relatively sober for his own party.’ You laugh at the idea, nodding your head fervently. Jean usually ended up the messiest of the bunch.

The exit into the cold night air, and your body is immediately taken over with shivers. Eren rolls his eyes but loops an arm around your shoulder, his own body a constant furnace. You hum in appreciation, leaning into his side as he rubs at your arm.

Climbing into the car, he blasts the heat. This time you pull on your seatbelt with no need for prompting, your head turning to stare up at him, the raise of her eyebrows translating to You happy?

He stays quiet, pulling on a cheesy grin that answers back, Very.

You flop back into your seat, a yawn overtaking you and the heat of the car soothing you The effort to keep your eyes open immediately doubled.

‘You can close your eyes. I’ll wake you when we get to your building.’

You look at him with a sorry expression, ‘But I dragged you out I shouldn’t-’

‘Sleep, idiot,’ he cuts you off, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to run over your hair, long fingers running through it. Always a surefire way to make you sleepy.

You drift off quickly, a smile softly laid on your cheeks.

Eren feels his heart beating hard once again. He swallows it down. Focuses on the road. Just friends was easier.

[vivaciousvermin]

Not sure if you would be up for writing it, but maybe an imagine with Leah x female reader with lots of fluff and them falling in love?

Meeting her.

Leah Clearwater x Fem!reader.

A/N: Anon, I love Leah Clearwater. my bi heart goes pitter patter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leah’s POV:

I walked through the streets of La Push heading towards the local diner for a quiet breakfast. Luckily there weren’t many people out so far to throw pitied glances; living in a small town had its disadvantages, every one knew my business in one way or another.

The sky was clear for once with the exception of a few wispy clouds, illuminating the remaining layer of fog that lingered between the trees and along the pavement. It was quiet. Clouds were painted with the faint pink and orange glow that was comparable to the likes of cotton candy.

It gave me something to be thankful for today. I could always count on the natural beauty of La Push to put me in a better mood.

Jingles rang out from the bells that hung off the door handle to the diner indicating to the staff that someone arrived. The clock read 7:30.

“Good morning!” A sweet voice called from the back of the restaurant sending my heart fluttering which was rare. A feeling I hadn't felt in years and it felt good.

I said hello back and took a seat glancing once more out the window grabbing the menu that stuck up behind the napkin holder.

Scanning down the laminated menu it was effortless to feel happy, my world was making sense again in the moment; I could confidently say that today was promising.

The waitresses' soft footsteps and melodic voice pulled my attention away from the sheet of plastic that rested in my hands.

“Good morning, my name’s (y/n) and I’ll be your waitress for the morning. Is there anything you’d like to start with?”

I looked up and locked eyes with her as I was about to answer. My voice stopped in my throat, my heart stopped for a few beats and my pupils dilated for a brief moment. The flare of pink that tinted her cheeks brought me back to earth again and my heart felt pulled to her, tied in an eternal bond

“Oh y-yeah I’d like a cup of coffee please.”

“Okay I’ll be back with your drink shortly.” She gave me a soft smile and turned back to the counter getting my drink ready leaving me with a moment to panic.

I know what happened, it’s something I thought wouldn’t happen at least not for a long time. Running my hand through my hair letting out a shaky breath I leaned my forehead on the table before looking forward. I finally imprinted.

The movement of her brought my gaze back as she approached with a cup of coffee and a notepad tucked into the pocket of her red apron.

“Here you go, be careful it’s hot.”

“Thank you, darling.” Spilled from my lips, my sudden burst of confidence set her cheeks ablaze resulting in her tumbling over her next words.

“Uh, what would you like to- um- eat?”

I told her the pancake breakfast and she turned on her heel calling my order to the cooks in the kitchen. I noticed she stole a quick glance in my direction causing me to blush and look away.

I had to figure out another way to talk to her, get her number, maybe take her on a date.

My desire to see her again and hear her smooth voice is what placed me back in the diner for two weeks straight. On days she didn’t work I’d order a coffee and drink it with the looming presence of disappointment repeating in my head.

I was back in the diner starting my third week of stealing glances and flirting back and forth with her.

Anything she said would tinge my ears red and heat would rise to my cheeks, she has me in a choke hold without doing anything but existing.

Today she wasn’t here so I ordered my usual coffee and the other waitress that (y/n) worked with had turned away. The jingle of the door rang out and someone sat down in front of me.

Looking up at the person who occupied the seat across from me I saw her. Her beauty warmed the atmosphere, she brought life to what I felt was my dark life. Her hair dazzled in the sunlight while her eyes sparkled with life and warmth.

(y/n) centred my world. She was the answer to all of my unanswered questions. The tension in my shoulders relaxed in her glow, with her in my world it was like a movie, like a song. She is my world.

I wanted to see her again so badly that I mulled over the idea of asking her on a date, a real date, not her coming in on her well deserved days off to see me.

I have to ask her out, it’s what my heart wants and I can feel that it’s what she wants too.

~~~~~~~~~

(y/n)’s POV

When I first met Leah she had come into the diner, I think it was 7:30 on a clear day approximately three weeks ago, since that day she’s been in everyday. She quickly made her way to the top of my favourite customer list, with her sweet words and compliments she could easily make me blush.

I remember looking at her for the first time, her shoulders relaxed from the tense position that they were in, the scowl on her face softened. She looked like she had seen light after sitting in the dark for years.

She is beautiful, her skin is like a burnt sienna, it radiates warmth like the sun one the first day of spring. Her eyes were a beautiful brown, it reminded me of the beauty trees hold on rainy days. It was aided by the scent that radiated off of her, it was cedar and pine mixed with a hint of rain and lavender.

Her hair fell below her chin, the colour was deep with hints of red when the sun caught it. Her laugh is music to my ear filling my heart with joy, lifting my spirits on the drieriest of days.

I knew Leah would be in the diner again today so I grabbed my purse and headed over to meet her. I planned on taking her on a proper date which meant asking her for her number.

The bells chimed with the opening of the door and I spotted Leah in what was now her booth. Her eyes were glued to the menu in front of her and she wore a small frown upon her face, probably disappointed that I didn’t work today.

Her eyes left the menu and looked towards me as I sat down across from her.

“Good morning Leah.” My greeting was enough to flush her cheeks with a tint of red sending my heart into overdrive with how cute she looked.

My presence seemed to lift her mood since her eyes pooled with joy.

“I thought you didn’t work today?” She quizzed me with a small smile.

“I don’t but I wanted to see you without having to wait on other people.” She looked down at her hands which were now folded in front of her on the table, my chest tightened and my heart screamed at me to grab her hand, to hold them, to kiss them.

I don’t know why I felt so strongly for a person I barely knew but by god, I’d give the world for her. I was attached and hooked now. I couldn’t imagine another world without her being there. It was like I found my soulmate in her.

She looked at me and I saw panic flash across her face before she took a deep breath. She unfolded her hands and placed them flat on the table. The yearn for holding her hand came back tenfold.

“I was. . . wondering if you’d like to go on a proper date.”

Leah looked nervous for my response but all I could feel was the joy bursting out of my heart.

“Oh course Leah, I’d love to. I was um actually going to ask you on a date myself. . .”

Relief washed over her features. I rounded up the confidence and reached out to hold her hand. It was soft and slightly bigger than mine, her fingers wrapped between mine sending a rush of electricity up my arm to my head.

“I guess it's a date then.” she smirked at me darkening my cheeks more than they already were. She knew what she was doing and the effect she has on me. I wouldn’t trade it for the world though.

I unlocked my phone pushing the screen towards her which showed an empty contact. “How about I get your number and we can plan where we should go later. Right now I’d like to buy you breakfast if it’s okay with you.”

She squeezed my hand and rubbed her thumb against the top telling me it was fine with her. My heart already loved this woman sitting in front of me and I could only hope she felt the same way about me. I hope she wants a future with me because I know I want one with her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[sweetcathedral]

☁️Jujutsu Kaisen — Nanami Kento☁️

Note: I finally found time to get around my collection of books I bought, but haven’t read yet. This is just the first list of books, there’ll definitely be more to come. I hope it doesn’t sound biased. I took away the fantasy books I read (mainly Leigh Bardugo & V.E. Schwab), since Nanami is already in a fantasy world himself, I feel like fantasy books wouldn’t interest him. Also, he wouldn’t buy self-help books since they’re common sense to him & sorcerers in general have a higher perception of emotions. Anyways, I’ll let the list (and somewhat fun blurbs) speak for itself!

Life for Sale by Yukio Mishima

This was given to Nanami as a birthday gift from Gojo. As Nanami was reading the story he found himself eerily similar to the main character, in terms of having the same feelings when he used to be a salaryman. He thought it was another way of Gojo trying to screw around with him, but gave him the benefit of the doubt since the story was interesting. Once Nanami was done reading the book, he smacked Gojo upside the head saying that he knows he gave him that book cause it reminded Gojo of him. Gojo replied asking how he knew it was him when he hasn’t said anything about it being related to him. Nanami clicked his tongue.

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee

While Nanami was doing business in Kyoto, he was called to the jujutsu campus there to assist the students on a couple of their missions. When looking for Gakuganji, he got lost and decided to look for Miwa since she’s a teacher’s pet. Miwa was found lounging on the couch reading Pachinko. Nanami asked if it was worth buying it (he keeps seeing it displayed at every bookstore), and she replied in enthusiasm, but then realized that Nanami was a man and that he might not be interested in romance. He took it as a challenge and bought himself a copy.

The Essential Rumi

No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai

Yuji wanted to find a way to understand Nanami better ‘cause he felt like they didn’t get along on their first mission together, so Sukuna thought it’d be funny to see him read Rumi & No Longer Human. Sukuna’s reasoning is that Nanami is a complicated man, and that these books represent him as a whole. Yuji was crying in confusion when reading Rumi & suffered a feeling of emptiness at the end of No Longer Human. While Sukuna was having fun emotionally abusing Yuji, Gojo came in to see if he was okay cause Megumi told him that he heard Yuji crying and laughing (Megumi got scared that Yuji was having trouble switching with Sukuna). Gojo calls Nanami to see if he could make Yuji feel better, since Nanami was better suited for these types of things. Nanami came in seconds later, Yuji jumped on him crying and asking if that’s how Nanami really felt, pointing to the book. Sukuna was hysterically laughing on Yuji’s cheek, which Nanami found annoying so he asked Gojo if there was anything he can do to shut Sukuna up. Gojo held Megumi as hostage and threatened to kill him if Sukuna doesn’t go away. Offended, Sukuna retreats. Yuji was able to calm down and get back to his normal self. Nanami read Rumi & No Longer Human to see why it made Yuji that way and you wouldn’t guess who he called to get him out of that empty feeling—Gojo Satoru, the same man who gives him stress on a daily basis and the only one who’s able to whip him back into his normal sanity. Gojo teleported to his place with Cards of Humanity & kept quizzing Nanami solely on questions about him (Gojo likes getting praised).

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami

Panda read Tsukuru as a way to experience human emotions, but at the end he end up with more questions than answers. Nanami bumped into him on campus and Panda remembered how much Nanami likes to read, so he decided to ask him for the answers. He replied saying that only the author holds the answers and meanings, but Panda insisted that he might hold the answers since he seems like the type to write these kinds of books. Nanami gave the book a shot. A bit offended, he asked Panda if he comes out as this depressing. Panda just sat there acting like he doesn’t know human language.

Men Without Women: Stories by Haruki Murakami

Yaga impulsively bought this book during the time of his divorce. He passed it to Nanami as if letting go of the past, and Nanami tried to refuse it saying he doesn’t want his baggage. But after some heavy silence, Nanami felt like he had no choice but to accept it.

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

Spotted Yuji, Megumi & surprisingly Sukuna crying over it. Nanami looked at them in worried confusion and even wiped Sukuna’s tears away, Sukuna ate the tissue and spat it back at Nanami for making him look like he needed comfort. Nanami just flicked Sukuna’s eye to get him to behave. Later on, Nanami cooked Yuji & Megumi comfort food as he read what the book was about. It felt like Haibara was talking to him in a nostalgic way.

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

Utahime came into the lounge room in a pissed mood, and asked Nanami if he’d seen a book called The Bell Jar anywhere. Nanami nods and realizes that she wasn’t anywhere near the lounge, so why is she looking here? When he asked, Utahime ended up ranting to him about how Gojo always hides her things to piss her off. Nanami decided to help her as a way to retaliate back at Gojo. He ends up finding the book first, read the summary at the back & decided to read the first page while he still had it. A few chapters later, Utahime snatches her book out of his hands, looking at him as if he were Gojo. Nanami was about to say he wasn’t done yet, but realized that it was Utahime’s copy. He apologizes to her before bumping into Gojo and smacking him upside the head. (After finishing The Bell Jar, he bought more works by Sylvia Plath)

I Love Dick by Chris Kraus

Despite the questionable title, Ijichi was caught by Nanami slacking on his work because of this book. At first, Nanami was caught off guard ‘cause he didn’t know Ijichi swung that way, but he accepted it with an open mind (nothing’s wrong with Ijichi being gay). After clearing his throat to get his attention, Nanami began to lecture him about how unprofessional it was to bring inappropriate material to work, but Ijichi quickly reassured him that wasn’t what it actually was. According to Ijichi, it was a really good book & told Nanami that he’d be interested in the storyline (since Ijichi saw him reading The Bell Jar).

The Shadow of The Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Nanami saw Ino at the edge of his seat when reading this book. He’s never seen Ino so completely immersed in a book before, nor has he ever seen him pick up any type of book before. He had to pry the book away from Ino’s hands to get his attention. That same day Nanami bought his own copy ‘cause if it’s able to get Ino hooked into reading then it’s probably worth it.

Satan Says by Sharon Olds

Ieiri found the book too boring and complicated to finish, so she gave it to bookworm Nanami. She told him that she doesn’t know if he’ll like it or not, but it was better in his hands than it is in hers. Nanami opened the book to a random page, read the first line, which he immediately understood and closed it to get back to work. The whole day he was only thinking about getting back home to finish it.

Assholes: A Theory by Aaron James

During Nanami’s time in highschool, he asked Geto for advice on how to tolerate Gojo. Geto gave him this book, and to this day he applies the book to Gojo. When Megumi first met Nanami, he asked Nanami for advice on how to handle Gojo. He said all the answers were in this book and passed it to Megumi like it was a family heirloom. It’s basically a manual on how to handle people like Gojo, little do they know it’s written by a Gojo.

The Emotionary: A Dictionary of Words That Dont Exist for Feelings That Do by Eden Sher

Also received during his time in highschool. It was a gift from Haibara that Nanami repeatedly reads from time to time. Haibara thought it’d give him a change of pace from all the negativity they experience during their missions. The book is filled with quirky words used to describe the good & bad days. Nanami also applies these words to describe the stress Gojo gives him.

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 2. math

Previous | Next

[warnings: cursing, mention of smoking, mention of household abuse of a teenager]

"what a plot twist you were."

—

The next day, you'd wakened with dry lungs and an even drier mouth.

It was true that smoking was bad for you—but it hadn't been as horrible as you'd thought. You'd try it again, but you couldn't see yourself becoming addicted.

Your mother wasn't home, again. You were quick to understand that she worked longer shifts now and you wouldn't see her a whole lot.

Not like you cared. Michelle never really liked you all that well. You'd probably have been dumped on the street a long time ago had your father not legally obligated to pay child support.

You'd never known him. You weren't sure if you wanted to.

She doesn't use child support for your well-being. Probably uses it to continuously feed her crippling gambling addiction and buy more pointless flowers for the apartment.

You were nervous about today. You'd never been the new girl before—and you didn't know what to expect about these kids. You doubted they were as cool as people as Larry and Sal.

You showered and put on your boyfriend jeans—which had holes in the knees, but you couldn't bother to concern yourself whether or not that conflicted with the dress code or not— and your light grey hoodie. You added a flannel on top of that which was a little too big for you. Don't forget the white sneakers which you should probably replace.

You pocketed your flip phone and slung your bag over your shoulder. Stopping in front of the mirror, you passed a hand through your hair, decided it was adequate, and walked into the kitchen. You grabbed an apple—you never really found yourself hungry in the mornings. Besides, it wasn't like your mother was around to make sure you were fed—and left the apartment.

You locked the door behind you and shoved the keys into the front pocket of your bag afterward.

You met with Sal and Larry at the foot of the front steps of the apartments, like you'd agreed the day prior. You couldn't help but feel a little nervous as you opened the door and walked down the three stairs.

"Hey!" Larry greets you first.

"Hey, Larry," you smile weakly, as you're not fully awake yet, but it still means as much as a smile you'd give him when you were awake. You turn your eyes to Sal, waving shortly. You were momentarily startled when you realized he'd already been looking at you. "Hi, Sal."

"Hey," he says your name pleasantly. "How are you feeling?"

It was sweet that he was concerned about your well-being. "Alright. My lungs hurt."

He hooked a thumb around the strap of his bag and slid it up and down. His hands were pale and veiny. His nails were painted black and the polish was chipped in a few places. "Yeah. You did a shit-ton of coughing."

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can he meets your eyes. His head is inclined slightly downward, tilted a bit. He peers at you through the shadows of the mask. Lash-fringed, blue angel eyes bore through yours.

His eyes are opalescent. It's almost as if every time you look at them they were a different shade of blue.

You're sure your gazes hadn't connected for more than 3 seconds but the feeling that spawns inside of you from that short contact is slightly jarring. You don't necessarily comprehend what is stirring in your gut and you don't have time to because Larry's speaking breaks through your reverie.

He begins to talk about the chaos the first day of school would be. You quickly forget what had happened before.

But nothing had happened. It was nothing.

When you'd arrived at school after a little bit of walking, you, Larry, and Sal received your schedules together.

"Fuck me," you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you look down at your paper. "Math is first. This always happens to me."

Larry laughs loudly. "Yeah. That does suck. Mrs. Packerton looks like a walking corpse."

Sal jerks his head upward from his schedule. "That's fucked, Larry. She's an old lady."

"I don't care. Pretty sure she's secretly evil anyway."

Sal looks as though he's done reasoning with how harshly true Larry is most of the time. He shakes his head and looks back at you. "Well, if it's any consolation—I've also got math first. So, you know. We could go together," he pauses. "If you want."

You grin. "Yeah. Sure. At least I'll know someone there."

Larry flicks his eyes between the both of you before stopping them on Sal. "Hopefully you won't have Travis again," His eyebrows twitch. "He always has math first."

"Travis?" You echo curiously.

The two boys exchange a glance.

"Just a guy we know who-" Sal starts, hurrying to finish the sentence.

He was rushing so Larry wouldn't cut in and say something but it happened before he even had a chance. "He's a little fucker we know who gives Sal shit. 24/7. He makes my blood boil."

You furrow your eyebrows. "What- why? What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing," Sal replies. "Pretty sure he's really troubled. Not unlike the rest of us."

"Doesn't mean he should take it out on other people." Larry scoffs. "I know it bothers you, dude."

Sal doesn't reply—seems as though he's growing uncomfortable speaking about all of it.

"Hey, guys!"

A voice calls, having grown closer halfway through her sentence. You all turn towards it. A girl, leggy and taller than both you and Sal, with long locks and eyes greener than a spring clover. There was something homey in the way her chocolate brown hair brought warmth to her features.

A boy is beside her, with ginger hair with eyes a deep shade of the richest earth. His skin is pale and freckled. He carries himself with an air of bluntness and just a little bit awkwardly—his facial expression is very blank, you note.

"Hey, Ash. Shocked you aren't late," Larry grins.

"Ash" rolls her eyes at him and mirrors his expression. "You know Todd would never let that happen."

"No, I wouldn't." Todd deadpans.

Ash turns toward you after laughing enough to flash the white gleam of her teeth and a slight dimple in her cheek. "Hey!" She then says your name prettily and juts out her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ashley."

You don't ask her how she knows your name. Instead, you sincerely smile, take her hand and shake it. "Nice to meet you," you return, and then turn toward Todd. "You, too."

Todd is already an interesting character. He doesn't smile but his expression is cordial. "Welcome to Nockfell."

Your smile widens.

"Have you guys gotten your schedules yet?" Sal speaks up after having been quiet for a moment. He must've been reading over his schedule to himself.

"Oh! Yeah," Ashley opened her other hand, the one she hadn't shaken your hand with, and unfolded a now very crumpled piece of paper. She passed summer green over the list. "I've got biology."

Todd didn't even look at his list. "I have history."

Sal looks at you. His gaze easily levels with yours. "Looks like it's just me and you then."

Your face feels hot. "Haha," you suddenly feel nervous. "You're right. Sit beside me, okay?"

His eyebrows jump—that much you can tell by the way his eyes move. Tucking a strand of loose blue hair behind his ear, he replies: "Will do."

His ears are double pierced.

The bell's shrill ringing floods the halls. You wince, and you and Sal's eye contact is broken. Before that happens, though, you see Larry grinning to himself.

Weirdo, you think lightheartedly.

Everyone parts after that. Larry and Ash walk away together. They must both have biology, you thought. Todd leaves by himself to his respective class and you and Sal head towards math.

For a moment, the silence is unbearable. You've never been alone with a boy. Well, you weren't alone, just not in a group with other people. The noiselessness begins to bother you so you fleetingly think of something to say and blurt the first thing that comes to mind.

"The piercings," you say suddenly.

He turns his head toward you. You look up to him before looking straight. "What?"

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, you thought. All I do is make a mockery of myself.

"I like them!" you add, hurriedly. "They're pierced twice. That's really cool. Looks good on you."

He laughs shyly. "Thanks. I like your shoes."

"My shoes?" You look down and laugh. They were so worn. "Why?" You continue to giggle. "They're falling apart at the seams, haha."

"That's the best kind of shoe," he retorts. He jerks his chin towards his sneakers, a muted shade of cornflower blue. "Look at mine. They barely fit and they're- like, super constricting. Also super ratty—but I can't seem to get rid of them."

You laugh with him. "They look better than mine, at least."

You're glad the ice was broken so fast. You liked him.

The class was boring and uninteresting as any math class would be. You do work. You glance over at Sal a few times throughout the class—not to cheat, just to see how he was fairing—and he was writing answers down with a quick response time and humble confidence within the drawl of his handwriting.

Alright, so he was smart. Not much of a surprise there. You could tell just how perceptive of a boy he was.

You stared hopelessly at an answer on your sheet you'd yet to fill out and twirled the pencil around in your fingers.

Suddenly, a pale hand with black nails has nimbly reached over and hastily circled what you assume was the correct answer to the question with his pencil. You look up to Sal in surprise and appreciation, who's already back in his seat as if nothing had happened.

You giggle before you can stop yourself when he raises a hand and raises a finger in front of the prosthetic's mouth, to tell you "shh."

Mrs. Packerton slowly pivots away from the chalkboard and passes her eyes over the class. You and Sal quickly break eye contact and look down on your papers. Sal's shoulders shake in your peripheral vision and you press your knuckles to your lips and force a bored expression on your paper.

Before the bell rang, you noticed a blond boy with tan skin and caramel eyes in front of you and Sal, occasionally shooting your friend bitter looks. It left a sour taste in your mouth, but you didn't mention it.

You find Ash and Larry before your next class. You think you've burst a blood vessel from how hard you'd laughed when you left the classroom.

"I thought I'd cracked a rib," Sal states over your laughter. as you walked up to Larry and Ashley.

Larry and Ashley exchange a look. Larry is the first to state the obvious. "What the hell happened to you two?"

You and Sal look toward each other and make eye contact. That's the last straw. You cover your mouth and try and hold it in.

"I-" Sal inhales. "It doesn't matter," he breathes out, an amused lilt in his tone. "How was class?"

"Bad," Larry and Ashley reply, in synchronization.

"Really?" You ask, surprised. "Biology can be fun."

"This biology isn't," Ashley sighs. "Not when you're just staring at cells and organisms for 20 minutes and then being expected to do work on it and understand what's happening."

"Well, math wasn't any better," you reply. "If it's any consolation—I don't think I got any answers right except for the one Sal did for me."

"I thought math was fine," Sal chimes in.

"That's because you're fucking Albert Einstein reincarnate," Larry squints. "Please have mercy on our mortal souls, Math God."

"Oh my god," Sal looks down. "Please don't make this into another nickname."

"I like it!" Ashley grins.

You know they're teasing but you can't find it in you to join in after he helped you out in class. Instead, you resign into silence and watch as countless students filter through the halls, bumping into each other as they pass and chatting with their peers.

Through the crowd, at the far end of the hall, you see him. The blond boy who'd been eying Sal in class. He was looking at him in the same way he had been then, with threat and resent shadowing his polished amber eyes.

It looks as if he's readying himself to approach.

You glance toward Larry, Sal, and Ashley. They seem occupied well enough, so you slip into the crowd and head towards who you've now pieced together to be: "Travis," you state, as you stand in front of him. "That's you, right?"

He regards you with distaste. "Do I know you?"

You suck your teeth. "No," you tell him your name. "I came to ask you something."

Despite himself and his embitterment, his eyes shine with hesitant curiosity. You take that as your answer. In spite of his stance over you and his general advantage of being bigger, you hold his gaze with blunt intent.

"What were you planning on doing when you walked over?"

"Why do you fucking care what I do?"

You shrug. "I don't know, Travis. I just think you need to learn how to pick your battles."

"Pick my fucking battles.. you know what? I think I will go over there-"

As he takes a step forward, you raise your hand and your palm roughly hits his chest, stopping him in his tracks—not because of strength (he's at an advantage, and he could easily walk right through) but because of the views he had, or rather—the views pushed upon him.

You saw the golden cross swinging off of his neck as soon as you approached. You'd also seen the gnarly black eye he wore on his face.

It was safe to assume he was being beaten at home and by a parent. And, most of the time.. when an adult is religious they will use several methods to further push it upon their child. Like sinner's guilt. And abuse.

If Travis' extremely religious guardian were to ever find out he'd harmed a girl, especially under the eyes of many others—it wouldn't turn out very well for him.

Yes, maybe you were being manipulative. But you were being manipulative for the good of both Sal and Travis.

"Step down," you advised. "This won't go very well."

You steadily meet his eyes. The stare between the two of you lasts for an even amount of time. Finally, he breaks that contact, jerks away with you, huffs, and walks his way around you and down the hall.

After that, you returned with the excuse of exchanging books from your locker, after Larry had asked you where you had wandered off to. No one seemed to have noticed Travis standing ominously at the end of the hall or your altercation with him.

At the end of school, you were beat. You said goodbye to both Ashley and Todd. Afterward, you, Larry, and Sal head for Addison's Apartments.

"You know, we don't have to go home yet," you say.

The boys turn to you curiously, as you kick a pebble as you walk along the side of the road. The beginnings of the sunset blossom in the sky—orange and fruity like tangerine jelly and amaranth pink like homemade strawberry frosting. like home. It fills you up inside and makes you feel so sweet.

"You guys wanna see a movie?"

Larry grins. "We don't have money."

"Who says we need money?"

When you'd arrived at the movie theater, all three of you had circled to the side exit. After a few moments of waiting suspiciously, an older couple exited through the doors. Larry caught the handle before it closed, and you brushed past them and quickly entered the theater. Before the doors closed, you heard them mumbling about "pesky children," or something.

Once you'd gotten in, you scanned each screening room and what movie the doors said it was playing.

You and Sal decided on a scary movie. Larry was not amused. Whatsoever. Apparently, horror is not his thing.

Before you entered, you frowned.

"We have no popcorn.."

In moments, Larry was reaching into a nearby trash can and pulling out an empty bucket that improbably had popcorn inside of it at some point in time. He then walked away, holding this empty popcorn bucket. It was so bizarre and you would have laughed had not been extremely confused.

"What.." Sal murmured, looking to you. "You think he'll come back?"

"I don't know where he would even be coming back from," You admitted.

It wasn't very long until he'd returned, with the empty bucket he'd taken from the trash now full of popcorn.

"Mandatory free refills," He said to your baffled face, pointing toward the poster on the wall above the trash can which read exactly what he'd just said. "You can never forget the hustle, kids."

"Oh my god," Sal mumbled and you barely heard him beneath Larry's laughter.

The movie was horribly made, and it still somehow scared the shit out of Larry. It may as well have been a comedy with how hard you'd laughed. Multiple other people in the theater had told you to shut Larry up but that was impossible when he was screaming every time a shadow would come on screen or the scene would change.

You, being between Larry and Sal, originally thought you'd had the best seat. You were wrong. Not only was Larry cowering into you and screaming directly in your ear, but Sal had simultaneously begun to throw popcorn at Larry's face to shut him up. That only resulted in popcorn. All over.

Needless to say, you left before the movie ended because of the fear of being escorted out by the employees.

"I'm never seeing a movie with you again," Sal squinted towards Larry. The three of you were now on the way back to the apartments. The night was thick and pearly moonlight bounced off old the white of his prosthetic face. "I think my eardrums are bleeding."

"It's the horror movies! This isn't my fault. Both of you ganged up on me and chose it."

You giggled to yourself.

Sal, beside you, suddenly stopped. "Wait, Y/N."

You stopped, and Larry halted a few feet away, as he'd been walking a bit ahead. Sal leaned forward and reached toward your face. Your body felt as though it had been zapped and you stood still.

He reached into your hair and pulled out a piece of popcorn.

"Huh." You said, dumbly. "How'd that get there?"

Larry's approaching footsteps were fast and leggy. He reached into Sal's hand, plucked the piece of popcorn between his fingers and fucking ate it.

"Jesus Christ, I can't do this anymore," Sal shook his head.

"What? It looked okay."

Recovering quickly from whatever had happened to you, you laughed.

You also inwardly denied what your body was feeling because you knew it was much too soon.

[russadler]

The Red Room (Russell Adler x OC! Bell) SMUT/EXPLICIT

Bell needs something from Adler...

EXPLICIT/SMUT 18+

A/N: Just a little something I wrote while in quarantine. I imagine this taking place in my “A Little Death” universe (I’ll probably find a way to write it in later on) but this can be read as a standalone if you wish. I’m still looking to add to “Playing with Fire” so stay tuned in the meanwhile. Thanks for reading!

It’s only midday and Bell can feel herself cracking. The CIA agent makes a half-decent effort to make herself look busy with her own assigned tasks, but in reality she feels her skin crawl with yearning. 

Her mind is fixated on one thing and one thing only.

With the others having either gone into town for lunch or other business, the main area of the safehouse is left solely occupied by Adler and herself. Bell slips into the red room as soon as she sees the chance. 

The brunette toes quietly into the workspace, not looking to completely interrupt her fellow agent’s current task at hand. Adler still turns when he hears footsteps behind him, his ears finely tuned after years of espionage work. 

Russell greets her with a simple “Bell.” As he continues developing the image in his possession. The American man is not a fool by any means, he knows she wants something. What exactly it is she seeks is another question entirely. 

He of course sees fit to make her wait until he is ready to give it.

Bell leans casually against an adjacent table to observe Adler as he works, her arms supporting her body as she leans back. The position pushes her chest forward and thus causes her nipples to poke very visibly through the thin white cotton of her muscle shirt. Her choice in attire had already earned a look from the elder man earlier in the day, but he had chosen to not make any comment. 

The young woman studies the muscles of Adler’s arms intently as he works, paying extra attention to the way his back shifts through the material of his dark green polo. 

Russell finishes his current project after a few short minutes, taking time to set his tools down and remove his gloves before turning to face his companion. 

“What do you need, Bell?” He questions. 

The woman in question moves from her place at the table and slowly approaches the man, stopping only when they touch chest to chest so he can feel her hardened nipples as her fingers hook themselves in his belt loops. 

The brunette peers up at the older man, gnawing at her lip in a show of both nervousness and want. 

“Bell.” Adler sighs. “We can’t — not here. Not now.”

“So you still want to?” Bell asks mischievously in return. “You didn’t say no, just that we can’t.”

Adler sighs again, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lover’s lips as his hands come to grip at her sides.

“You know damn well I’d love to baby.” He replies quietly, his thumbs rubbing softly at the meat of her hips. “But if we were caught, there would be lots of trouble for both of us, especially for me.” 

The shorter of the pair doesn’t consider the other’s answer for too long. She already expected him to say no, it was why she came with a back up plan. 

Bell leans in to whisper in the other’s ear. “Let me suck you off.” 

She leans back to observe the man’s reaction. Adler is a man of very subtle mannerisms. He isn’t easy to read, but the lack of sunglasses as well as her personal relationship to him makes things a lot easier. 

His face doesn’t shift at all with surprise, but instead she sees the minute etchings of curiosity decorate the man’s features. 

Adler’s eyes dart quickly to the door. Bell answers his unsaid question. 

“Everyone’s gone out for lunch, and we both know Hudson has meetings at BND headquarters all day.” The female states matter of factly, beginning to reach for the man’s belt. “We still don’t have enough time for you to fuck me, but surely I can get you to cum in my mouth at least.” 

Once his belt is unbuckled, her dark haired form drops to its knees in front of her commanding officer. As she wrestles his cock out from his briefs, Bell feels the light touch of Adler’s hand on the crown of her head as he pushes back the hair falling in her face. 

The Russian finally reaches her goal, the man’s half chubbed length presenting itself as she tucks his briefs behind his sack. Leaning forward to suck the engorged tip into her mouth, Bell glances up at Adler as his flesh enters her mouth. 

She notes the way his jaw clenches in the red light, groan caught in his throat as he watches her closely. The woman works to suck more of his fattening length into her mouth, left hand gripping at his thigh as her right grips the base and massages what she can’t fit in her mouth. 

Russell reaches down to stroke delicately at her chin.

 “Good girl...you’re so good for me.” He whispers adoringly, admiring his girl as she sucks him off.

Bell closes her eyes and continues working her mouth up and down, knees becoming sore as they rub at the cement floor. A hand coming to rest on the top of her head, guiding but not pushing her to take him further. 

“Lift your shirt, let me see those gorgeous tits” Russell whispers roughly, hand on her head shifting to grip at her hair as she swallows down more of him.

The beauty complies with the man’s directive and her left hand moves to lift her shirt, exposing her perky breasts to the chilled air. Bell straightens at the sound of Adler’s pleased hum. 

As she sucks him further, she eventually feels her gag reflex trigger. Forced to pull back and take a moment to breathe, Bell knows she looks a mess, hair mussed by Russell’s grip and saliva covering her face, but she knows they both enjoy the absolute filth of these things. 

Russell rubs at her bottom lip with his thumb as she gasps for air, playfully pushing it forward for her to suck at before pulling away.

“Sweet girl…” He rasps with a smirk, moving forward to tap the tip of his cock on her swollen lips. “Better move faster if you want me to cum before they come back.” 

She beams back with a stellar smile of her own, before opening her mouth to allow him to push his cock forward. The elder groans, swearing under his breath as Bell resumes sucking him off with vigor. 

Bell swallows him deeper with each pass, moaning in pleasure as she gets him off. Adler’s hand clenches and grips at her hair as attempts go restrain himself from fucking her throat.

As much as she would love him to, they both know they wouldn’t be able to explain why she suddenly lost her voice midway through the day. 

“God...you’re so good to me Bell…” Adler murmurs. 

The brunette pulls back suddenly from sucking his cock to lap at his balls, moaning in unison with him as she begins to suck harshly at a testicle.

“Fuck...Bell...yes.” Adler hisses, tossing his head back as his face pinches in bliss. Bell makes note to suck at the other testicle as well before returning to swallow his length. 

From that point on the younger begins a rapid and zealous assault on the CIA agent’s erection, determined to make him cum. A hand jerks him at the base, while her mouth moves along his length at a swift pace. 

The red room becomes filled with Adler’s groans and quiet praises, mostly drowned out by the wet sounds of Bell choking on his fattened dick. 

Bell can feel herself absolutely melt as she blows him. The carnal act and the absolute danger of their current situation feeds her insatiable appetite for the man. She feels the hot burn of tears run down her face as she makes herself swallow him with haste until she chokes, a mess of saliva covering most of her face and dripping down her chin. 

“Make me cum baby...I know you can…” Adler encourages as he’s cut off by his own groan. “Suck that cock dry...I wanna cum in your mouth.” 

The Russian whimpers at the words as she continues her assault on his penis for another few minutes. She wants nothing more than to feel the warmth of his release in her mouth, to hear him cry out as he releases. 

She pulls back and takes a deep breath before rapidly sucking him to the base in one go, she coughs as she deepthroats him for the first time but she still manages to hold on.

It finally does the trick. 

“Oh fuck! Bell I’m gonna fucking cum…I’m gonna cum. Oh Jesus…” The man lets out a groan from deep within his chest as he releases. His partner’s hair tightly gripped by both hands. 

Bell pulls back, only leaving the tip in her mouth as he comes. The salty taste of his thick release soon fills her oral cavity. 

“Show me.” He growls lowly. “Show me the cum I put in your mouth then swallow.” 

Pulling back off his softening cock, the female leans back and opens her mouth. Her tongue is barely visible beneath the sea of white cum.

Adler places a finger under her chin to tilt it upwards and whistles approvingly at the sight. “Goddamn...good girl. Letting me dirty your mouth like that.” 

He removes the finger from underneath her jaw and steps back. “Now swallow it.”

Her mouth snaps closed, and she angles her head upwards to make a show of her throat moving as she swallows. She finishes by reopening her mouth, now bare of his release. 

Adler gives her a lopsided smirk and helps her from the floor, greeting her as she rises with a filthy kiss. He seems uncaring of her messy state, and of the fact she just swallowed his load. 

“Oh you filthy, filthy girl…Thank you.” Another kiss, followed by one of his hands moving to push a stray hair behind her ear as Bell smiles shyly. “You’re fantastic, you know that?” 

He moves to help her clean her face with a spare handkerchief she had brought along, before using it to wipe his now soft cock before zipping himself up.

Russ gives her one last kiss, arms enveloping her shorter form and pulling her close as he leans down to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to make you cum so hard later...I’m going to make you fucking shake. You hear me?” 

She nods silently as he pulls back, one of his hands coming to grip at the meat of her ass.

Bell takes a moment to enjoy his hold. "I’m gonna go get freshened up properly before everyone gets back, because I definitely look like I just sucked someone off.” She declares as she begins to pull away. 

Adler gives a huff of amusement as he begins to head back to his work station. “Yeah...I think that’s a good plan.” Bell smiles at him as he begins to put on a new pair of gloves while she moves to the door. 

“See you later?” He asks, his head turning to look at her one last time as she leaves. 

“See you later.” She confirms, blowing one last teasing kiss over her shoulder as she strolls out the door. 

Bell debates later if she imagined it, but she swears he smiled as she left. Not a smirk, or the tight lipped smile he rarely dons. 

No, she swears, he beamed. 

A/N: This one goes out to @judo-98​ <3

[littlesniggy]

Hi! How are you doing? I'm the anon who asked for the underage character and yes, obv I wasn't thinking about any nsfw since he is underage ^^ So can I ask you a scenario for Dellinger x fem reader? His reaction when a stranger try to flirt with her, and she's clearly uncomfortable with the situation

Thank you, hope you're having a nice day :3

Hey Anon! Thank you so much for requesting for Dellinger. First time writing for him and I think I'm not quite sure how he'd behave just yet but it's not too shabby either. I hope you enjoy it! Dellinger is a little shit but we all know this. If you are in a relationship with him, be prepared for a lot of questionable things lol.

Warning: maybe mention of blood, mild swearing

Pairing: Dellinger x female reader

Word count: 1.6k

You two haven’t been dating for long yet and it was your very first relationship. To think it would be with someone like Dellinger surprised even you. Especially since you had no idea he would actually feel the same way about you in the first place. He was like an odd-ball: either hit or miss and luckily for you it was a total hit. It had taken all your courage to tell him how you felt; you’ve always been on good terms and had a lot for fun together, even if you not always agreed with the way he loved to torture his enemies (or even his allies).

“You like me, Y/n? Of course, you do!” he laughed and put his arm around your shoulder, looking at you with an excited yet shit eating grin. “You’re fun to hang around, too! Wanna be my girl?” and that’s how you two started dating. It’s been challenging from time to time, peculiarly when it came to other boys looking at you. You never thought of him as being the jealous type but in hindsight you could’ve presumed as much; he didn’t like to share his stuff, he got mad when he wasn’t the center of attention, let alone when he got ignored, and he loved showing his things off to others. So, it was only natural for him to be protective over you.

“Ne, Y/n! Where you going? Why aren’t you asking if I want to come with you?” you heard his voice behind you, close to your ear. You jumped a little in surprise at his words, turning around to look at his naturally hungry looking eyes and the same old grin on his lips. “I didn’t think you would want to come with me. Told you I’d go to town and look for this book I’ve wanted for a long time. Remember? Your answer when I first asked you yesterday was: “As long as it’s not book with pictures of people getting tortured or some magical book where I can summon a gigantic beast, I’m out.”. Ring any bells?” you quoted him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, grinning at the young man in front of him.

“I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go!” and with that he grabbed your hand and lead the way. Stunned, you followed your boyfriend, wondering what has gotten into him all of a sudden. But you’d get your answer sooner than later…

At the book store you had chosen to look for the wanted item were a lot of people; women, man, children, toys – it seemed like everyone from this kingdom was here today and you could barely look at any of the books, let alone move forward to the section where you assumed the book to be. Surprisingly, Dellinger didn’t complain once; he had his hands crossed behind his head and was even whistling! What was wrong with him today?

A sudden shove had you bump into some guy standing next to you. “Oh, I’m sorry.” You apologized and lifted your hands as well as a sign you didn’t mean to. “Oh, no worries. It’s not too often a pretty young lady tries to flirt with me.” He laughed and you chuckled awkwardly. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to-“

“I’m just joking. I know you it was an accident.” He winked at you. Relieved you gave him a genuine smile, apologized once more and tried to make your way over to your destination.

“That was a weird guy, right?” you mumbled. When you were given no response, you turned around and saw – no one; at least no one you knew. “Dellinger?” you called out but couldn’t make him out in the crowd. With a shrug, you moved on, assuming he’d probably gotten annoyed and was now waiting outside or doing God-knows-what.

While looking at the different book titles in hopes of finding the one you felt as if someone was looking at you intently, and it made your body shiver. An uneasy feeling became more and more present in the pits of your stomach. As a consequence, you decided to slowly turn around and be prepared to find some old creepy man eye your body.

You were relieved to see it was not an old man but your relief turned into concern when the guy watching you turned out to be the same guy from earlier. He was holding a book in his hand and acted all surprised to see you here as well, smiling at you and putting the book away. From where you stood you couldn’t get a clear look on the title but you were pretty sure he wasn’t actually reading this book.

“And here we meet again. One could think you’re following me.” He said this cheesy line and you wanted to vomit but didn’t dare to upset him. Where was Dellinger anyway? He was always over you when anyone even seemed to be interested in you in the slightest. And now, that someone was actually flirting with you, he was nowhere to be found.

“It seems more like you are following me.” You said in a polite yet distant tone. “What makes you think that?” he asked, crooking his head to the side. You pointed behind him to the book shelf where he had put the book. “Cause either, you have a baby on the way and need some last-minute advice from a book since the section over there is for parents to be or, which is much likelier, you just pretended to read it.” You said, putting the book you were holding back in its place again. Your eyes flashed over the spines of several books but it seemed like you had no luck in finding the wanted one here.

“I guess you got me.” He admitted. You turned your gaze over to him again, seeing him practically stare at you. There was a silence after this for a while and it made you feel even more uncomfortable. What did he want?

“Well, is there anything I can help you with then? Since you made all this effort to follow me?” Please say no and just leave, you thought to yourself.

“Would you go on a date with me?” he straight out asked and put you on the spot. You weren’t the best at turning people down but in all fairness, it rarely happened anyways. “I…I have a boyfriend.” You said, sounding not very convincing.

“You don’t have to lie to me. Don’t be shy, I won’t bite. Besides, ever since I first saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Please, give me one chance to prove myself to you.”

Anxiety took over more and more and you stepped a step back, bringing some more distance between the two of you. “No, really. I’m in a relationship.” And what do you mean ever since you first saw me? That was five minutes ago…”

“Maybe it’s not the first time I’ve seen you. I’m just saying; please give me one chance and I swear I won’t disappoint you.” He tried again, trying to reach for your hand, a warm smile on his lips that creeped you the fuck out.

All of a sudden, there was a different hand grabbing his and the guy winced a little. “Ouch, what the-“ but he was cut off when he looked at a maniacally grinning Dellinger, showing off his sharp teeth. “Didn’t you hear what she said? She’s taken.” He chuckled, his grip almost crushing his wrist. “Let go, man! Damn, it hurts! What’s your problem?!” he complained, trying to pry his hand off of his wrist. “What my problem is? I really, reeeeally want to tear you apart and see drown in your own blood.” A high-pitched giggle accentuated his threat and the guy’s face turned white, finally recognizing the young, flamboyant officer of the Donquixote family in front of him.

“I give you ten seconds to get out of here and never show your face in front of her or me again, understood?” he whispered, his eyes glowing red, hoping the guy would defy him. But he was way too scared and took the first chance Dellinger gave him to get out of there.

You watched the guy run for his life before you hooked your arm into his, smiling up at him. “Thanks.” You said. “How dare he try anything like this.” Dellinger cursed. “You shouldn’t have left me here in the first place. Where did you go?” you demanded to know. Your boyfriend’s grin became wider and realization slowly hit you.

“You knew what was going on.” You stated dryly and he couldn’t suppress the small giggles. “Did you also know he had seen me before?” your suspicions were confirmed with his next sentence. “Ever since we went to this stupid café two weeks ago.” You weren’t overly excited hearing this from him. “Did you also know he would come here today?”

“You know I hate book stores. Might as well make the whole thing fun to me.” He chimed, already pulling you out of the store.

“I can’t believe you! So, instead of telling me about this, you just watch him flirt with me and ask me out? And now you even let him get away with it?” your voice grew louder and louder, almost furious at his little stunt. Your anger, however, vanished within the next second.

“Who said I’d let him get away…?” If death had a name, it would most certainly be Dellinger. This boy will rip the other guy’s guts out and eat every single piece of him. This little game was just to fuel his anger and get the revenge you both deserved.