#I try to avoid using sharp things because usually that means I am also having muscle spasms
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Hey y'all, I think I need a little bit of a like reality check again So I know I am prone to rather extreme muscle tension, spasms, and knots; my body does electrolytes wrong, and if I have a flareup of one of my other health conditions it can make my electrolytes wrong enough that my muscles hate it (I've been tested multiple times, there's nothing wrong with my nerves or muscles themselves, it really seems to just be the electrolytes) So I know the degree of muscle issues is unusual, but I thought the like...pattern was common? When you get muscle tension on one side of your body, and then it relaxes (like the next day) do the muscles on the other side of your body tense up, just slightly less bad? And then it like seesaws back and forth from one side of your body to the other, getting less bad each time, until you're back to base levels of muscle tension? And if so do you have any advice on how to prevent that seesaw effect from happening? Like, other than rehydrating and electrolytes, I have those covered
#the person behind the yarn#medical mention#I did not do any crafting today because my muscle tension got my eye again#and when my back is so tense it's pulling on the muscles in my face enough so that I can't open one eye all the way#I try to avoid using sharp things because usually that means I am also having muscle spasms#just maybe not feeling them yet#normally if I have a flareup of one of my other health issues I can take a stress dose of my meds#and that limits the seesaw effect a LOT#but I can't take a stress dose or I have to postpone the test I'm getting done this week and I don't want to do that#I already got the time off work for the test I need to do it#but this is the worst flareup I've had in a long time and I'm out of practice
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Rafe x Girl next door type/Sweet!Pouge Reader: He sees her at a party and he sets his eyes on her, wanting to hook up with her for the night and ditch her the next day. He gets surprised thought when he actually talks to her, how kind, sweet and genuine she is # and to also find out that she is the relationship girlfriend type that would never have sex with someone random # but does not end it right there with him then trying to find someone else for the night but actually find himself drawn to her and wanting to take care of her/protect her and offers to drive her home (and whatever else you can think of, just a suggestion)
lamy's notes: i hope you like it, angel!
the party is in full swing, neon lights flickering against the walls, bodies packed tight with the heady scent of sweat and liquor thick in the air. rafe cameron leans against the kitchen counter, a red solo cup dangling from his fingers, half-full of something he’d stopped tasting an hour ago. his sharp blue eyes scan the crowd, predatory, practiced, already picking out his next conquest.
then he sees you.
it isn’t like the other girls he usually finds himself entangled with. no plunging neckline, no practiced sultry gaze or desperate attempt to get his attention. you’re different—sweet-looking, soft around the edges, the kind of girl who smiles at people like she means it. the kind of girl who doesn’t belong here.
and fuck, does that make him want you more.
you’re laughing, head tilted back just slightly, talking to a couple of your friends who don’t seem nearly as enthralled by you as they should be. you aren’t drinking, he notices. just standing there with some soda in your hand, cheeks flushed but not from alcohol. from joy. genuine, untainted joy.
rafe smirks. this will be easy. the sweet ones always melt in his hands, naive enough to believe whatever story he spins, desperate for that kind of attention from someone like him. he pushes off the counter and makes his way toward you, predatory confidence in every step.
“didn’t peg you as the party type,” he murmurs, sliding in beside you. your head turns, and when those warm, wide eyes meet his, something in his stomach twists.
you smile. actually smile at him. no coyness, no pretense. just a simple, friendly, fucking devastating smile. “yeah, i guess i’m not,” you admit, a little sheepish. “but my friends wanted to come, so here i am.”
rafe arches a brow. “and you’re not drinking?”
you shake your head. “not really my thing.”
his usual lines, the easy teases and flirtations, catch in his throat. there’s nothing to latch onto here, no feigned innocence waiting to be shattered. just…you. real. unaffected. completely unlike anyone else in this house.
“not your thing, huh?” he echoes, tilting his head. “so what is?”
you give a small shrug, your fingers curling around your soda cup, you begin to ramble about random things. “i don’t know. movie nights, bonfires on the beach, making pancakes at midnight just because. you know, wholesome stuff.”
wholesome.
jesus christ.
rafe hasn’t felt this off-kilter in years. he came here tonight looking for a quick fuck, someone to drag upstairs and forget about the next morning. and yet, here he is, utterly hooked on you talking about making pancakes at midnight.
“you’re not from around here, are you?”
you laugh, light and warm. “born and raised.”
“huh.” he studies you, trying to pinpoint exactly what makes you so different. maybe it’s the way you look at him, not like he’s some trophy to be won or some cautionary tale to be avoided, but just…like a person.
he doesn’t know what to do with that.
“so,” he tries again, leaning in slightly. “if you’re not into parties, what’s keeping you here?”
you tilt your head, studying him right back. “good company, i guess.”
rafe isn’t used to being caught off guard. isn’t used to having the script flipped on him like this. but instead of pissing him off, it just makes him more intrigued.
for a split second, he thinks about cutting his losses, about finding someone else who’d be easier, who wouldn’t make his chest feel tight in a way that has nothing to do with lust. but the thought of walking away from you right now?
doesn’t sit right.
“let me drive you home,” the words are out before he even realizes he’s said them.
your brows lift slightly, surprised but not suspicious. “you sure? i wouldn’t want to take you away from the party.”
he smirks. “believe me, sweetheart, nothing here’s worth sticking around for.”
you hesitate for a moment, then nod. “alright. that’d be nice.”
rafe has never been interested in nice before. nice doesn’t get you anywhere. nice is weak. but as you walk beside him out of the house, trusting him in a way he knows he hasn’t earned, he thinks—
maybe nice isn’t so bad.
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ᡣ𐭩 I AM HIS, AND HE IS MINE
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: it's the night of what's supposed to be your first date with dazai, but of course, like all things involving dazai osamu, nothing goes right. you should have expected it... but maybe not all is ruined.
(wordcount: 6.9k; fem!reader, pm!reader, sfw but steamy make out sesh. reader slaps dazai. this one is a bit of a whirllwind, it is purposely fast-paced and a bit choppy. unedited.)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: HAPPY FRIDAY <333 enjoy a bit of a funner pmreader au fic because beast au is coming soon <3 bonus points if any of you can figure out the importance of the next mission that's mentioned at dinner and at the end <333
“I mean, I should’ve known he was going to pussy out, right?’ you say with a scoff as you lean back in your seat, phone pressed to your ear as you look over the Yokohama skyline. “It’s just like him. It was like pulling teeth to even get him to admit there’s something between us. He avoided me for weeks after we talked things out and-”
“Wait, wait, hold on. I thought things were good between you guys now?” Chuuya asks, baffled. You can hear some commotion happening in the background, and what seems like an explosion, your eyebrows shoot up, wondering where he is. “He said he was going to meet you.”
“Where are you?” you ask confused. “I thought you didn’t have a mission today.”
“I didn’t,” Chuuya spits out, voice rising in irritation. “I took over shitty Dazai’s so he could go get ready to meet you, and you’re telling me he’s not there? I’ll fucking kill him.”
You let out a sharp puff of air, disappointed but not entirely surprised that Dazai used you as an excuse to dodge a mission. Things have been better between the two of you—he doesn’t avoid you anymore, in fact, he usually seeks you out on his own like he used to before your friendship was wrecked by your fling with that civilian, but you haven’t slept with each other since that night two weeks ago. And that’s fine, you don’t only want Dazai for sex, but it just feels like you guys are back to being friends, and that’s also fine, but this was supposed to be your next step at maybe being more than friends, so how are you supposed to feel when he bails?
You should’ve expected it, you think blandly, letting out another sigh as you shake your head. Dealing with Dazai is like trying to pull out an anchor that’s buried feet under the ocean floor with your bare hands—he doesn’t like changes from the norm, and he especially doesn’t like having to confront his own emotions, you’ve known that since the day you’ve met him. You thought you made enough progress the night that you slept together for it to be a non-issue, but clearly, you were wrong.
Sleeping together is evidently less emotionally taxing for him than going out to dinner with you, which is crazy when you consider just how that night had started.
“You okay?” Chuuya asks quietly. “I can come meet you there, I’ll be done here in a few.”
You roll your eyes with a fond smile. “I don’t need a pity date because Dazai Osamu stood me up, Chuuya.”
“Fuck you, it’s not a pity date,” Chuuya snaps, and you raise your eyebrows in amusement when you hear a sudden shout from the other line and a few curses from him. “Look, just let me know, yeah? We can chill and get takeout too.”
“Chuuya, go handle your mission. I’ll be fine,” you say, still smiling lightly as you take a sip of your wine. You’re on your second glass already—Dazai was supposed to be here half an hour ago. “I’ll text you.”
“You better,” he warns, and you hear him let out a litany of frustrated curses as he starts shouting at someone with him before you finally hang up.
You let out another heavy sigh, the small smile fading from your lips as you look down at the red tablecloth, lowering your glass as you swallow thickly. You can feel several gazes on you—this is a Mafia establishment, and your favorite restaurant to wine and dine Port Mafia associates at, most of the staff knows you by name. The last thing you want is their pity because you were very clearly stood up by someone, even if they don’t know who it is that had the nerve.
Just as you’re about to rise to your feet and leave, you notice the hostess’s eyes widen as she turns to acknowledge someone entering the restaurant, rushing back over to the podium to greet the newcomer. She bows too deeply for it to be a regular customer, but you don’t dare to get your hopes up, stiffening as you wait to see who arrived. You tell yourself that it must be some government official taking his wife out, or maybe a businessman and his colleagues going out after a long day of work because you don’t want to be disappointed when an unfamiliar man turns the corner.
Still, you take in a deep breath and can’t help the way your throat spasms when you realize the newcomer is coming around the corner, and you certainly can’t help the way you straighten. The rest of the staff catches sight of them before you can, and the way they all have a visible reaction to the person, the way their gaze turns to you.
You know it’s him before he turns the corner, but your heart races still when he comes into view.
He’s not wearing his typical waistcoat and slacks—or well, he is, but it’s a new set. You can tell because you can’t see the darker splotches on his waistcoat from the blood the dry-cleaner hadn’t been able to get out from his last mission. And he’s not wearing his black trench coat; rather, he’s wearing an expensive suit jacket you’d never seen before. Even during events, he would usually just shed his jacket, he never really dressed up special like you and Chuuya would. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him in an actual suit jacket like this.
More importantly, he has a bouquet of roses in hand, and the expression on his face is nothing like the aloofness you’re used to him wearing in public. He looks unsure, almost hesitant as he looks around trying to figure out where you’re sitting, and he physically falters when he catches sight of you sitting at the window already looking in his direction.
You shift your seat slightly so you can face him, crossing one leg over the other and tilting your head to the side. His throat visibly bobs as his gaze tracks down to the way your red dress rides up your thighs, and you can’t help the amusement that bubbles in your chest when he has to physically inhale to get ahold of himself before making his way over to you.
When he gets close to you, you can feel almost all of the eyes in the room pinned on the two of you. You can’t exactly blame them—it’s not everyday that the Port Mafia’s most notorious executive is seen outside of the darkness he usually lurks in. Most of those who are seemingly aware of who Dazai is look nervous. You can’t blame them for that either, as far as rumors go, it’s pretty well known that death clings to Dazai Osamu in a similar fashion that shadows cling to a dying light—unyielding, inevitable, and always just a step behind.
“You’re late,” you say coolly, grateful that your voice doesn’t betray the way your heart is racing.
Dazai doesn’t respond right away. He looks down at the bouquet in his hands, and then back up at you. The way he shifts awkwardly on his feet is almost endearing, and the way his brows furrow as he tries to decide what to say almost makes you soften up.
After what feels like an eternity, he says, “I wasn’t sure which flowers to get.”
“You didn’t have to get me flowers,” you reply quietly, standing up to take them from him.
They’re pretty. You’re used to getting flowers—Mori makes sure there’s a fresh bouquet on your desk every Monday, and these ones are definitely not of the same quality Mori usually gets you. They’re expensive for sure, but you can see the way the edges of the petals are just barely wrinkled from a day in a storefront. Yet somehow, these feel more special than any of Mori’s bouquets ever have.
“Odasaku said that I should,” Dazai replies after a moment.
Any fondness that might’ve been swelling in your chest is crushed in an instant.
“You got me flowers because Oda said you should?” you ask flatly, looking up at him with a visibly displeased expression.
You can see confusion fly across Dazai’s face at your sudden change in demeanor, mind racing as he tries to figure out what he said wrong. After a few moments, he seems to realize from the way his eye widens slightly.
“He only suggested it,” he says, voice low as he looks down at you through his lashes. Suddenly, you’re all too aware of how close you’re standing to him as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He dips his head a little more. “I got you them because I wanted to get you them.”
You swallow thickly, lashes fluttering as you avert your eyes to the side. “Well, I guess that’s fine then,” you reply primly, clearing your throat as you meet his gaze again, mouth drying when you see the way his lips curl up into a slow smirk, dark eye glittering with amusement.
“Yeah?” he drawls. “As long as it’s fine with you, then.”
You scoff at him and turn your head away pointedly. “Would you sit down? I’ve already been waiting for over a half hour.”
He hums in agreement, but before he moves to sit down, he leans down to brush his lips against the corner of yours. Your throat tightens, and you pretend to not notice the pink that dusts his visible cheek as he swiftly turns to take his seat.
When the two of you take your seat, the silence between you is abundantly awkward. You press your lips together, thrumming your fingers against the red cloth. You’re usually good at making conversation—it’s quite literally what you’ve been trained to do—yet no words find their way to you with Dazai sitting across from you.
“I-”
“Y-”
Both of you go silent at the same time, and both of you say, “Go ahead,” at the same time. You pointedly raise your eyebrows, beckoning him to continue, and you smile curiously when you see how his gaze drops to the table for a moment.
“You look beautiful,” he says quietly. “Your dress… I haven’t seen you…”
“I always wear dresses to events,” you tell him with a half-smile to hide that you’re flustered by the compliments. “You see me in them all the time.”
He inhales and then shakes his head, you watch his gaze track down suspiciously low for a split second, and then down to the table to where he’d seen your dress ride up your thighs, and the smile on your lips becomes a little more mischievous.
“Oh, I see,” you say, relishing in the way his cheeks go from dusting pink to flaming red as he pointedly looks away from you. “I think you’d like more what I have on beneath it.”
Dazai chokes, and then tries to mask it with a cough. You wonder if you pushed too far, the two of you haven’t done anything physically since the first time you slept together. Not even kiss. But from the way his pupil is blown wide as his gaze focuses back on you, you think your words have their intended effect.
Before he can reply, someone clears their throat from next to your table. You turn your head to the side, mortified when you realize that your waiter is standing there waiting to take your order.
“Hime, Dazai-sama,” he greets, bowing low with bright red cheeks. “I apologize if I interrupted.”
Dazai’s expression goes cold at the arrival of a stranger, but you direct an uneasy smile toward the man as you say, “Shinohara-san, good evening… I hope you didn’t hear anything… unsavory.”
“Of course not, hime,” he agrees, even though you know it’s a blatant lie. “Are you ready to order?”
Before Dazai can disagree, you nod and pointedly ignore the offended look he shoots your way. “It’s pretty busy tonight, isn’t it?” you say curiously as you look around. There’s double… triple the amount of people that are usually here. “I hope you’re not too overrun with work.”
Shinohara lets out a huff of laughter. “It was so quiet until an hour ago,” he agrees. “We had to open up the other room because people just kept pouring in at five. We’re managing though, don’t worry.”
You order for both you and Dazai. You figure that he could order for himself, but he hardly ever treats himself out to eat. He’s more prone to hoarding cans of crab and ordering takeout on your card, so you’d rather just order something you know he’d like than wait for him to sort through each and every item on the menu before he settles on what you know he’s going to get anyway.
Dazai takes advantage of you placing the order to sit there and glower at the man who is only trying to do his job—probably the only one of the staff that had the balls to approach your table with Dazai Osamu sitting across from you. As soon as he leaves, you settle a flat expression on Dazai.
“He’s just doing his job, Dazai,” you say, unamused. “Won’t you leave him be?”
Dazai gives you an offended look. “I didn’t even do anything,” he protests.
“You were glaring at him.”
“That’s just my face.”
“Right,” you say sarcastically. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Unbelievably cute,” he corrects with a sweet smile.
“Hah!” you laugh in his face. “You wish.”
“I don’t need to wish, it’s true,” Dazai says confidently, leaning back in his seat with a smug grin. “You think I’m the cutest. You love me.”
You roll your eyes. “At least you have confidence.”
“What does that mean?”
An easy smile settles on your lips as the awkward silence between the two of you finally shatters. You look down at the table, a fond feeling swelling in your chest as you finally come to terms with the fact that Dazai did come, and a lump forming in your throat as your gaze tracks back over to the flowers he gave you, wondering if this all means he’s finally ready to officially take that next step with you.
And if it does mean he’s ready to take the next step, is he going to feel the same way when the sun rises tomorrow? You can never tell with him. He’s fickle and capricious, and it’s obscenely frustrating trying to deal with his back-and-forth.
“I heard you have a mission in Kyoto at the end of the week,” Dazai says quietly after a few moments, an unreadable expression on his face as you look back up at him. “You’ll be there for a bit.”
You hum in response, taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah,” you agree, and then you let out a sigh. “Ihara Saikaku has made… a lot of progress in undoing all the work I did back in Kyoto before coming here. More than we realized until two of our warehouses up there were blown up. I don’t think I’ll be there long—probably a week.”
Dazai’s lips curl down into a frown at your words. “Who’s all going with you?”
“Itou,” you answer, referring to your partner, rolling your eyes at the way a distasteful expression immediately crosses Dazai’s face. “Some of our subordinates. It’s a small group, we don’t want to bring too much attention before we go there..”
“I can come,” Dazai offers, and it makes your chest flutter because Dazai never offers to take on extra work unless you’re involved. Hirotsu pointed it out to you over a year ago, but you never really took notice of it until recently. Dazai notices the small smile unconsciously curling at your lips and takes offense to it. “What? Why are you laughing at me?”
“I’m not,” you say quietly. “I just…”
You care about him a lot—more and more every single day, and it scares you, because you never know which days he’ll choose to stay, and which he’ll run away. So you don’t voice it, instead you tilt your head to the side and raise your eyebrows at him.
“I can handle the mission,” you tell him.
Dazai huffs. “I know you can,” he says, raising his chin, looking a bit put out by your comment. “Doesn’t mean you don’t want company.”
My company, you hear the unspoken word as he frowns and looks away and your expression softens.
“Don’t you have a mission with Chuuya this weekend?” you remind him dryly, smile becoming a bit more amused when he obnoxiously rolls his eye and gives you a judgmental look.
“He can handle it on his own,” he mutters bitterly. “Whatever. Fine. You don’t want my help clearly. You don’t need to say it, I can take the hint.”
“You’re so dramatic,” you say fondly, resting your chin on your hand as you observe him. He’s clearly flustered by your stare, immediately looking down at the table. “I leave on Friday, it won’t be long.”
Dazai still doesn’t look pleased.
“Friday is movie night,” he says, clearly bothered by the prospect of missing it. Dazai is a creature of habit—much like how he didn’t want to change his friendship with you by taking the next step in your relationship, he doesn’t like when his weekly schedule is disrupted, and you know he looks forward to Fridays with you.
“We can go to the arcade on Thursday.” you compromise.
Dazai lights up. “You hate the arcade,” he says suspiciously.
“I hate losing to you at the arcade,” you tell him, scowling at him briefly when he gives you a smug smile. “I’ll suffer through it just this once.”
You do hate losing to him, but you also like watching how excited he gets when he wins games. You would usually join him and Chuuya when they went because you could just watch and not get dragged into their dumb competitions. They’d get so wound up with arguing with each other that they’d genuinely forget you were there.
“Don’t invite Chuuya,” Dazai says with a frown after a few moments.
“You’re so mean to him,” you say absently, thanking Shinohara as he returns with the appetizers that you ordered. “He likes going to the arcade with you.”
Dazai sneers. “Until he loses every single game,” he says haughtily. “We don’t invite him to movie night, so we’re not inviting him to game night.”
“Sometimes we invite him to movie night,” you argue with a frown.
“Sometimes you invite him to movie night,” Dazai corrects, voice dripping with disdain. “You taint our movie nights. Not me.”
“You’re so dramatic,” you repeat, lips curling up into another smile. “He wanted to do something with me before I left too. Why not-”
“No,” Dazai says, voice pitched in complaint. He draws several eyes onto the two of you, which he quite quickly takes care of with a vicious look in their direction. His expression smooths out before he turns a frown back onto you. “No.”
“Fine, I’ll do something with him earlier in the da-”
“No,” he says, even more loudly this time, but the other patrons of the restaurant know better than to look over now, keeping their gazes trained on their meals or their partners. “Fine. He can come to the arcade. We can do something else earlier in the day.”
Your lips curl up into another amused smile, tilting your head to the ideas your eyes settle back on his face. “Oh yeah?” you drawl, “and what do you want to do earlier in the day?”
The smile on Dazai’s lips is unrepentant. “I could think of a few things,” he murmurs, gaze dipping down for a moment before settling back on your face.
“Pervert,” you insult, but your tone stays light.
“You’re the pervert,” Dazai accuses, dark eye glittering playfully as he reaches for a piece of calamari curiously, eyeing it for a moment before popping it into his mouth. You watch his expression light up before he reaches for another quickly—you’re not the biggest fan of it, but you figured he would like it. “I was talking about going to the movies. What were you talking about?”
“Riiiiight,” you say dryly, leaning back. “What movie do you want to see?”
“Hmm,” Dazai hums, pressing his finger to his mouth as he tries to think of a movie he wants to go see, but you find your attention drawn behind him to where the hostess is whispering with the head of staff, looking at something behind you.
Dazai is rambling about some animated movie that’s about to leave theaters—something about a robot, you’re not really listening because you’re too busy trying to figure out what they’re so focused on. Something about it has you on edge. You follow their gaze to a party of three sitting at a nearby window close to the event room; it isn’t anything too suspicious, you think, until one of them looks in your direction and instantly looks away.
“Helloooo,” Dazai demands your attention, irritated. “Why did you ask if you weren’t going to listen to me?”
“It really is busy today, isn’t it?” you ask quietly, and Dazai’s expression immediately clears, lips curling down and brows furrowing as his sharp gaze circles the room. You noticed it earlier when Shinohara came over, but you didn’t think anything of it. You should have. “It’s not usually this busy, especially during the week.”
“Yeah?” Dazai murmurs, now brought aware of the oddity, you can see the thoughts racing behind his dark eyes, trying to figure out what caused it. “Weird.”
“Weird,” you agree, watching as the hostess shifts on her feet nervously and then pointedly meets your eyes. Something is not right, and you have a very bad feeling about it—the people who’d been seated in the event room are becoming restless. You can see it in the way they’re shifting in their seats and looking around quickly. Dazai realizes too from the way his expression closes off and his hands tense. “I-”
Dazai tosses you a smile that’s so disarming that you almost don’t register what he says to you next. “When I tap the table twice, get under the table and crawl to my side.”
You unlock your phone and quickly send a text to Chuuya with your location and a ‘help’—no explanation, because the uncertainty and anxiety will make him get here faster. By the time you hit send, Dazai is looking at you again. His lips curl up into a teasing smile that tells you he’s about to tap the table; he raises his eyes at you as if asking if you're ready, and you raise yours right back at him in response.
You see a rush of movement from the corner of your eye at the same time as Dazai’s fingers hit the table twice. You drop to the ground at the same time as the first gunshot rings from somewhere behind you. Dazai is shoving the table over onto its side and hitting the ground beside you; he has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh as his shoulder knocks against yours.
As the screams of the regular patrons of the restaurant start resounding through the air, he leans in with a wild grin and says, “That was close. Almost took off my ear.”
You’re not quite as amused when your gaze snaps over to him and you see the blood staining the bandages that cover the right side of his face. Your eyes widen and you gasp, “You-”
“It only grazed me,” he tells you, and then nods over in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s get out through the employee entrance while everyone is running around panicking.”
“Right,” you say quietly, and then your lips curl up into a tight smile. Of course this is how your first official date with Dazai goes—you almost wonder if it’s a sign from the gods telling you that this will never work. To quit before you’re in too deep, as if you aren’t already. “We just can’t have one night of peace, can we?”
“I was really looking forward to those crab legs,” Dazai sighs dramatically, throwing his head back. “You think it’s the feds?”
“No way,” you say. “It’s another organization, I just don’t know who the hell is bold enough to pull something like this off in our city.”
“Guess we’ll find out,” Dazai says lazily, and then motions to the kitchen. “Let’s go.”
He doesn’t give you much time to react; your body lurches as he grabs your wrist and hauls you up to your feet, pushing you ahead of him to get you moving in the direction of the kitchen. You stumble over your heels and glare at him from the corner of your eye, but he only tosses you another breathless smile in return, clearly having the time of his life.
“You’re ridiculous,” you snap at him, not quite enjoying having your night ruined like he seemingly is. “You could at least pretend to be bothered.”
“I’m so bothered to have my night ruined with my sweet hime,” Dazai says with another wide smile as he dances ahead of you to push open the door to the kitchen and drag you in there with him.
You can hear shouts coming from behind you and another barrage of gunshots, and you can’t help but mourn because of course this had to happen here at one of your favorite places to go out to eat. You won’t be able to come back for ages now because of this—you’re going to have to figure out if they were involved with this first, but even if they weren’t, this is going to be a hotspot that the feds will be watching for months. One of the cooks directs the two of you to the staircase in the back just as the door you entered through to get into the kitchen slams open.
You try to get a look at the people chasing you, but Dazai doesn’t give you a chance, yanking you into the stairwell to start making a break for the exit of the building. You grimace at the thought of having to run down fifteen flights of stairs, your feet aching just at the thought of it.
“We’ll never get to the bottom before they catch up. I’m in heels,” you say as the two of you get down the first flight only to hear the doors you just came out of slam open, signalling that they’re already giving chase.
“Take them off,” Dazai says easily. He still has a shit eating grin on his face and you have half a mind to slap it off him. You think he’s enjoying running for his life more than he was enjoying dinner with you.
“I’d rather be shot.”
“Then we’ll just out smart them,” Dazai tells you, wagging his fingers obnoxiously in your direction. You think he tosses you a wink before he keeps dragging you along, fingers tight around your wrist.
You grimace when a bullet flies a bit too close to your head, stumbling as you skip over a step to the middle landing between the eleventh and tenth floors. The people chasing you are Japanese—you can hear them shouting at one another as they try to catch up to the two of you, but they’re not from the area, you can tell from the accent, so they can’t be from one of the Yakuza syndicates.
Then who?
Shikibu or Ihara’s men? Kawabata’s?
Your mind races for an answer, but you’re startled out of your thoughts when you and Dazai reach the tenth floor and he kicks open the door to the hallway loudly. You shoot him a wide-eyed look, but he doesn’t drag you into the hallway, instead he yanks open what looks like a small maintenance closet and pulls you inside of it, pullingshutting the door shut quietly.
“What-” you start to say, but you can’t finish your question because Dazai is backing you into the wall, he pins one of your wrists right up next to your head and his other hand drops to your hip as he presses his body flush to yours
Oh, you think absently, all thoughts slipping from your mind when he presses his lips to yours. They’re chapped and taste faintly of the garlic on the calamari he’d been snacking on combined with the blood that has dripped down his face to his lips—you don’t think you should like the taste of it, but your hand comes up to cup his cheek and you find your lips parting as you deepen the kiss.
He lets out a low groan into your mouth, and you know that this is not the time for this. The people chasing you could walk into the closet any moment and riddle both of you with dozens of holes, but you’re two glasses of wine in, high on adrenaline, and this is the first time Dazai has kissed you since the night the two of you slept together—his lips are more intoxicating than any type of liquor or drug.
“We shouldn’t-” you start to whisper when you pull away for air, but your words fail you when he immediately turns his attention to your jaw, trailing his lips halfway down your neck. “What’s gotten into you?”
Your breath catches when you feel his lips curl up against your skin. He nips your neck and slides his hand down from your hip to your thigh, slipping his fingers below the tight red fabric of your dress to hike your thigh up around his waist so he can roll his hips against yours. Your breath hitches, head falling back against the wall as Dazai continues to kiss down your neck, tongue darting out to swipe at your collarbone.
“You are so…” you breathe out.
“Sexy? Arousing? Tempting?” Dazai offers, lifting his head to look down at you, eye darker than usual, pupil blown wide as he gives you a lazy smile and waits for your response.
“Unbelievable,” you finish, shaking your head. “I never know what to expect with you.”
“That means you’ll never get bored of me,” he says with a grin. “That’s a good thing.”
“It’s something alright,” you agree, noticing the way his smile falters at your answer. “I’d never get bored of you regardless, Dazai. I just wish…”
You don’t finish the sentence, not wanting to send him running when you’re already in such a precarious situation. Instead, you shake your head and look away with a frown.
“You wish what?’ Dazai asks quietly. “Tell me.”
“I didn’t think you were going to come today,” you admit after a moment, deciding to just come out with it. His lips part at your words, suddenly looking unsure. “I just… sometimes I still don’t know where we stand. It’s hard.”
“You don’t know where we stand?” Dazai has the nerve to sound amused, but there’s an oddly vulnerable look in his gaze as he looks down at you. He brings the hand he still has pinned to the wall next to your head to his chest so that your palm is flat against his heart. “I thought I made it clear that night. I’m yours.”
Your breath catches again, heart racing as you look up at him and ask quietly, “You’re mine?”
“I’m yours,” he repeats, lifting your hand from his chest to press his lips against your palm and then your wrist. You cup his cheek, wiping away the blood that’s tricked down the right side of his face. “Heart, body, and soul. I’m yours.”
He looks like he didn’t mean to say all of that from the way his eye suddenly widens, but the damage is done and you are down for the count. Your entire world is shaken by the words that you never thought you’d hear him say out loud. Luckily, he’s saved by the chaos happening right outside of the closet the two of you are hiding in. The shouting draws close as they get down to the tenth floor, trying to figure out where the two of you went.
He presses his hand over your mouth and backs you against the wall again, trying to hide in the shadows of the small room just in case they decide to take a peek inside of the closet. After what feels like an eternity, they seem to go down the hall of the tenth floor looking for you guys.
“That’s why you kicked the door,” you realize and he gives you a smug grin. “Dazai…”
Dazai can seemingly tell that you’re about to go back to the conversation the two of you’d been having because he winces and croaks out, “No more talking, please. This has been a lot for me in one day, y’know.”
“Okay,” you agree with a small smile. When he finally steps away from you, you reach out for his hand, entwining your fingers with his. “Let’s get out of here then.”
The worst part about getting down to the ground floor is the fact that your feet are killing you, but you’re too stubborn to take your heels off. The exit leads into an alley next to the building, and you sigh as the door shuts behind you, reaching for your phone to see if Chuuya or the Black Lizards are anywhere nearby, not wanting to go out anywhere in the open when there could be snipers waiting in case the two of you managed to escape the hit squad.
“I-” you start to say, looking up at Dazai. He turns to look at you, but his eye widens as his gaze focuses on something behind you. “What are you…?”
You yelp when Dazai reaches out to grab your wrist. He yanks you behind him, and as you crane your neck around to see what’s going on, your breath catches when you realize that they had someone waiting outside. His gun is trained in your direction and Dazai is swinging you around so that he’s the one that will take the bullets, using his body as a shield to protect you. Your lips part in a silent cry of his name when you realize what he’s doing, trying to stop him, but you know you won’t be fast enough.
It all happens too fast—too slow—you don’t even know really; you can see it all happen but you can’t react. You’re watching the man’s finger curl around the trigger, you’re watching Dazai stiffen as he braces himself for the impact, eyes locked with yours and grip on your wrist tightening, and you’re choking over a gasp, panic flooding your blood and fogging your brain as you realize what’s about to happen.
It doesn’t happen though—the ground shakes violently as a familiar figure drops from the sky in-between the two of you and the gunman. The gasp you choked over turns into a shaky sigh of relief when you realize that Chuuya arrived.
He turns a glare onto the two of you, the Tainted Sorrow emanating around his body as he stops the barrage of bullets midair. He spits, “You two-”
“Late as always,” Dazai jeers, but you can see the way his shoulders visibly relax and you can hear the tremor of relief just barely audible in his tone. The tight grip on your wrist eases, but instead of pulling away, his hand slips down so he can entwine his fingers loosely with yours again. “But what else should I expect from a slug?”
Chuuya snarls at Dazai, but before he can say anything else, his attention is drawn back to the man fumbling to reload his gun. You have half a mind to tell Chuuya to leave him alive, but your focus is pulled back to Dazai and the panic and fear that had been flooding you quickly shifts into anger.
You reach out to grab him by the tie to yank him closer to you, his eye widens and his eyebrows shoot up teasingly, but you’re not having it. You lift your free hand and before you can even consider what you’re doing, you slap him hard. Dazai draws back, cheek pink in the shape of your hand and lips parted in shock.
“Ouch,” he says flatly. “That’s what I get for saving your life?”
“Don’t ever do that again,” you spit at him angrily, knuckles tight around his black tie as you drag him closer. “Ever. What were you thinking throwing yourself in front of the gun like that? Are you insane?”
Something mirthful flickers across his face as he looks down at you, dark eye lidded and lips pulled flat. His voice is colder now as he asks, “You don’t like it, do you? Funny.”
“What?” you breathe out, confused and taken aback by the comment, even more so when he only averts his gaze and shakes his head. “What are you even talking ab-”
“Yo, come here,” Chuuya says abruptly. You give Dazai one last concerned look before trailing over to Chuuya, who’s kneeling over the corpse of the man that tried to kill you and Dazai. He’s pointing at a tattoo on the man’s forearm of a castle floating in a sea of clouds. “You recognize this? It's so familiar, I can’t place it.”
You frown. “Yeah,” you say, voice tight. “It’s Ihara. The Floating World. Guess I’m going back to Kyoto sooner than I thought.”
Dazai’s expression shifts instantly, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “But what about-”
“They just attacked an executive in the heart of our territory, Dazai,” you say, voice strained. “This needs to be handled immediately, and you and Chuuya need to stay here. If they’re willing to do this, then there’s no telling what they’re capable of trying for. You two need to stay here and be ready to deal with any potential threats to Mori.”
Neither Chuuya nor Dazai look pleased by your words, but it’s Dazai who speaks up, expression twisted. “You can’t order me around, I’m the executive.”
“And because you’re the executive, you know that I’m making the right call, don’t you?”
Dazai doesn’t look pleased, but he doesn’t reply other than a shake of his head. It’s only when you reach for your pocket to grab your phone so you can call your partner, Itou, that he finally reacts. He grabs your wrist quickly, the pads of his fingers burning against your skin and though he doesn’t speak right away, you still brace yourself for what you know is coming.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says quietly as Chuuya steps away to make a call. “I don’t think-”
“You told me that you’re mine, Dazai,” you say softly. “Heart. Body. Soul. Do I have your trust too?”
Dazai looks conflicted, face twisting and lips pressing together. His grip on your wrist tightens, but he finally shakes his head and looks away. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “You do.”
“Then trust me when I say I can handle this,” you say, voice coming out a bit more pleading than you intend for it to. You gently shake his hand from your wrist so you can entwine your fingers with his again, squeezing his hand. “I was in Kyoto on my own for years, Dazai. I know what’s waiting for me there. I’ll be fine, we need you and Chuuya here with Mori.”
After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally replies, “Okay. I trust you.”
You let out a breath of relief, shooting a text to Itou so you can let him know that plans changed, and you’ll all be leaving in the morning instead. You roll your eyes when you get a ‘yippee’ from the grown ass man as a response, but promptly turn your attention back to Dazai, who’s still frowning at the ground.
You squeeze his hand to get his attention, and he looks at you with an indecipherable expression. “Come on,” you tell him. “Let’s go home and clean the blood off of you. We can spend the night together before I leave in the morning.”
“In the morning,” he echoes, a whine clinging to his tone, but he lets out a melodramatic sigh before giving you a lecherous smile. “... You did promise me that I’d like what you had on underneath the dress more, didn’t you? You gonna prove it?”
The smirk that curves at the corner of your lips is playful. “You know it.”
You hear a noise of disgust from a few feet away, and you both turn to see Chuuya standing there, looking thoroughly disturbed.
“Gross,” Chuuya scoffs, sneering at the two of you.
“Shut up,” you and Dazai snap at the same time.
“No you. I don’t need to hear this shit, take it to a goddamn bedroom.”
You and Dazai share a look at his suggestion, then snicker when another groan comes from the ginger.
“Forget it.”
#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x reader#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you#bsd x you
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How do you get your siffrins to look adult? I keep accidentally giving them a baby face but I WANT THEM TO LOOK GROWN AND EXHAUSTED LIKE HE DESERVES
okay so i legit think i fail at making siffrin look adequately adult like half the time but here's a general breakdown of my like. thought process when im actually um. thinking .
So first of all heres my general tips for proportioning a face, and how i attempt to keep the roundness of sif's in-game proportions while also like... drawing them more realistically? i had to practically reinvent a Human Style for drawing isat fanart since im a furry artist so a lot of this is fresh in my mind, luckily(?) for you i suppose.
This newness also means you can like, watch me fight and struggle against how the hell to do this in my earlier fanart. so feel free to try and see what changed as i pieced it together.
Another note is body proportion. You note giving him a baby face specifically, but some of it MIGHT be that you're drawing the head too big for your style? Try and figure out how many "heads tall" your figures are and tweak the numbers until you find what looks "adult"
Here I cracked open one of the comics I used CSP Model refrences for (albeit feat Loop, who i envision to be the exact same height as siffrin. i am NOT a tall loop truther i think its funnier when that bitch is five foot NOTHING!!!!!)
drawing sif with adult proportions can be deceptively difficult though on account of their Being A Tiny Motherfucker. Mostly here though, I find that the best way to do this is to drop like 1/3rd of the length of an average drawing figure's legs. Short people tend to have short legs. I know this on account of a lot of my ocs being 5'3" and below (... for... reasons...... unrelated to my own... height.... 100%.... ) so once again I think a lot of this can come down to trying to fiddle with numbers and noting down what works.
OKAY NOW ONTO SOME MORE SIFFRIN-SPECIFIC DRAWING TIPS. like these are what i find myself doing to make them look older if i accidentally baby face them myself
The above kind of chibi-er doodle style im still not sure has Siffrin looking adult enough for my liking (someone who considers them minimum 28) but considering they're presumably genuinely a deceptively baby faced guy at least by game's start (even if they should probably look. unhealthy.) it's like... forgivable.
the bald spot is basically fucking cheating in terms of "making them look older" lbr but i am so fucking insistent on it and i punch the air in celebration every time i see anyone else do it. winner is ME!!!!
Anyway. the body hair thing is funny considering we basically have Word Of God that siffrin is not the kind of person who ever likes being naked/even having their feet out in a casual setting. but like. hi its me the weird fucked up miserable nudity guy. of course im drawing every pockmark and texture on their body.
Another note here is, on their naked form, I avoid overly smooth lines for outlines of the limbs and torso. This avoids making them look "sexy twink thin" (not my bag at all) and instead gives the impression of loose skin from fluctuating weight, uneven fat distribution, skin becoming baggier with age. I also let joints jut out and look sharp wherever I can. This is because im an asexual pervert who likes the human form the mostest when i can see 'imperfections' This adds to the haggard nature of it all, by being reasonably honest about what the kind of persistent decade-long neglect of self care and implied malnutrition would do to a guy
Last note: eyes. i find i end up drawing a vague glassy black smear with a hint of white for the sclera for siffrin like. a Lot. Eyebags to show weariness is not my preferred method as I find it, to be rude, a bit of an overused shorthand. Plus, while sif in game does get eyebags, they're usually more on pushed expressions where they're forcing their face. So I put more emphasis on drawing the folds of the upper lid (which the game does not do) to make them look weary.
I dont think i can elaborate on my opinions on How To Draw Eyes without it becoming a way the fuck too long essay because "drawing emotions good" is like. my number 1 goal in every drawing so even if everything else is scuffed to hell I HAVE TOOO get the eyes right because theyre the most emotive part of the face. if i cant capture an emotion correctly the drawing isnt getting fucking finished is the thing, so....
Luckily for me, drawing over eyes and continously tweaking them by painting over and over and over and redoing them can have the side effect of making them look over-detailed and thus worn/tired/agonised. yes this is why i draw loop's face so scrunched all the time. All I can say for this though is to do a lot of studies of both real life faces & the most emotive cartoon faces you personally have experienced. So like. steven universe is great for this because rebecca sugar is so scary at drawing eyes. theyre so fucking scary at it. or sometimes i just go stare at rebecca's old comics because jesus christ. anyway.
??? but yeah hope this helps. its something i feel like i have a genuine hard time with too, especially since im so intent on keeping their face round & my artstyle is genuinely very cutesy even when i am being weird soo ...?
tl;dr:
draw the eyes smaller, give them a chin, the canon nose helps a lot & dont forget the bald spot. everyone draw the bald spot. for me.
#???? HOPE THIS HELPS IVE NO IDEA WHAT IM DOING BESTIEEEE. imo ppl like dragonymango draw way better adult-looking sifs than me LOL#lucabytetalks#long post#isat spoilers#isat siffrin#two hats spoilers#doodlebyte#soz for the wait time i kinda had to draw pictures to explain anything in a coherent manner. not that this is coherent at all
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Living Weapon Whumpee part 16
Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, recovery whump, reluctant alliance, rejection by peers
Only this time he was working to earn respect from his peers. An impossible feat, considering his now-allies had hundreds of reasons to hate him. The list starting with killer and ending with Weapon.
"So... what are your names?" Whumpee tried to diffuse the tension. It seemed logical, to start learning what to call each man.
"...I'm Jake," the biggest of the men said gruffly, watching Whumpee through narrowed eyes. He had dark orange hair and hazel eyes, and wore a menacing scowl on his. "I am effectively the leader of the team under Flint's command. What I say goes. Period.” his void was deadpan and cold, and he jerked his chin toward the man on his left, a guy with brown hair and eyes. “That one is Reed, my second-in-command.”
"You can learn the rest of my group's names over time. Right now, it's the time of day that we would train in the fight room." He stood up from his chair, and the others eagerly copied him, nervously glancing at the living weapon.
Whumpee followed them as they filed out of the room, a full head higher than all but Jake, who was also exceptionally tall. It made him all the more intimidating to be around.
Whumpee didn't say a word as he followed the team to the training area, finding himself in a large room full of sparring weapons, punching bags, and some other machines for exercising.
"We usually split up and pick what area we feel we need to train more on," Jake explained, "whether it be physical fitness or honing battle skills."
Whumpee watched the other soldiers migrate to different areas, and decided to try the punching bags. He lined himself up at the nearest one and took a swing -- with a little too much power. His fist went straight through it, spraying sand all over the floor when he pulled his arm out in surprise.
He sheepishly glanced at the cluster of men getting ready to lift weights, who were all staring at him, faces pale with terror. Because that could have been someone's head on the battlefield. His face heated with embarrassment. He'd forgotten how strong he was.
Maybe that means I should work on gaining more finite control of my movements, he deduced, and moved to a second punching bag, giving it a few light taps to avoid accidentally smashing it to bits.
Each time he barely touched the bag, picking up speed with short, sharp punches. It felt unnatural to be holding back. He was used to going all out, using any means to win a fight.
Over an hour of practice passed before Jake announced the end of it, and while other soldiers were visibly tired and worn-out, Whumpee had barely broken a sweat. No one talked to or acknowledged his presence as they moved on to dinner, and then finally the shared sleeping quarters with beds lined along the walls.
Whumpee stayed awake for a long time after the lights switched off, and he could tell from the breathing patterns alone that several other men were too, shifting around restlessly -- probably unwilling to let their guards down and rest, lest he slit their throats in their sleep. A reasonable fear, considering who Whumpee was.
After a lot of tossing and turning, Whumpee managed to drift off.
He awoke the next morning to find himself alone. Everyone else had already left, no one bothering to wake him. Probably too scared to even approach.
Whumpee sighed wearily, getting up and padding out after slipping some shoes on. He got lost wandering the maze of halls in the facility, but eventually he successfully located the team he was with, who were gathered in a large room full of... games? Things like darts and pool and cards and so much more! He could hardly believe what he was seeing! It must be recreational free-time for the soldiers.
There were groups of two or three playing each game together, none of which invited him to join.
Whumpee didn't mind, at least that's what he told himself. Although... playing two-or-more player games did look rather fun. He was never allowed the simple luxury of entertainment under Leader's control.
But he knew asking to join would make everyone even more on-edge, so he refrained from it, deciding to throw darts at the board by himself to pass the time. Maybe once the soldiers grew more comfortable around him they'd invite him to play cards, though he'd never played before. They'd have to teach him.
Those first few days of existence were... rough. Everyone avoided Whumpee like the plague when possible, edgy and jumpy whenever he walked into a room. Steering clear when there was space to do so.
But the men were growing bolder and more confident the longer Whumpee was around, and it was on the fourth day that Whumpee faced his first round of genuine, direct trouble.
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#whump inspiration#whump list#whump writing#whump fic#whump prompt#whumpee#whumper#whumper and whumpee#writing prompt#writing#captive whumpee#living weapon whumpee#trapped whumpee#recovery whump#rescue whump#restrained whumpee#whump#cruel whumper#hero whumpee#whump community#whumpblr#whumpee x caretaker#whumpee x whumper
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When environments go bad, people typically think that the wildlife vanishes completely. If a pond gets polluted, or a bunch of the vegetation in a forest dies, then surely nothing is going to stick around! Indeed, it is true that upsets in ecosystems can cause numerous species to vanish from them. It is certainly a sign, and a bad one at that. Like amphibians disappearing from your local lake or marsh. When the frogs stop singing, something ain't right. However, there are also instances where new life entering the picture can be an equally bad sign. "But Chlora!" some of you may say "Isn't having new species come into an ecosystem a good thing? Isn't more life better?" To that I say: have you been reading these? Because if you are thinking that adding species to a habitat is always a plus, then I am about to launch an entire tome's worth of invasive species issues right into your face. Some creatures are simply not meant to be in places, be it lack of predators, lack of usual food source or other environmental factors. Some may be invasive, while others are simply in an area where they shouldn't be! Like, if you had a pond and suddenly saltwater fish started living in it. You would be like "hey, isn't this a fresh water body?" Well apparently not anymore! An extreme example, yes, but I am trying to convey something here. Not sure if I am doing a great job at it. Here's another example, using the star of this entry: the Doratabo!
Before we can get into it proper, we need to know what a Doratabo is. The Doratabo is a species of fish, though not exactly in the fish form you expect. They have a long body, a large head and, most noticeably, a pair of limbs. Where one would expect fins, the Doratabo has a rather simple pair of forearms. Though there are digits at the ends of these arms, don't think that this fish is scaling cliffs or picking up swords. These arms are rather thin in comparison to the rest of their body, and even their clawed fingers aren't that sharp or tough. The most these limbs do is dig through the mud or help drag themselves along the ground. This brings me to the next noticeable feature of this species, and its the fact that you often see them out of the water! While they are indeed fish, the Doratabo has a wet hide that allows it to absorb air, like an amphibian would! Even their throats have this lining that lets them swallow air and breath without using their gills! This is good for them, because it means they can spend time outside of a particular water body and not worry about suffocating. It also lets them traverse the shores or move to better pools instead of being trapped in one place! They use this air breathing so much, that they are commonly found on mudflats, river shores and places where the waters have receded. Though they don't need water to breath, they do need moisture for their skin to take in air, so they are still reliant on places that have plenty of water or dampness. Mud is their favorite, so much so that locals would say that they are born from it. Make a mud puddle on your property, and Doratabo will magically pop out of it! But more on that later!
The muddy shores and flats are where they like to hang out, and it is also where they hunt. Their big mouths are used for swallowing up insects, crabs, snails and smaller fish. They typically look for food that is struggling in the thick mud, giving them opportunity to slither towards them and gobble them up! Though they are large, there are plenty of other creatures that would happily dine on them! To avoid predation, Doratabo hide themselves in the mud, using their earthy coloration and wrinkled hide to blend in with the environment. To add to the look, they coat themselves in the wet mud. This has the double bonus of wetting their skin for breathing and building up their camouflage! Once they are covered, they look like they are one with their surroundings, vanishing into the soggy earth whenever predators come around. Even if a beast were to locate them and attack, they will find their claws and teeth slipping off the slick hide, making it difficult to grab hold of the wriggling fish! And if things get really dire, they will lash out with their clawed fingers or try to smother their attacker in the thick mud. The latter tactic has them using their bulk to knock foes over into the muck, then push them further in until they give up or suffocate.
To the people who live in the regions the Doratabo dwells, it isn't a huge threat to them. These fish prefer to be left alone and if threatened, they usually just burrow into the mud and hide, so attacks are rare. They aren't hunted that much either, because their meat is considered quite gross. Folks claim it is very muddy tasting and gritty, practically marinated in the muck they inhabit. Some people like it, but from the sounds of it it is a very acquired taste. So interactions between people and Doratabo are rather infrequent it would seem, until you hear the stories...
Despite their rather harmless nature and love for mud, it seems this fish has made it into quite a few tales. In fact, the people of the past labeled it as a spirit of vengeance. That seems a bit extreme, right? Well, here is where it gets interesting, and where my ramblings at the beginning finally make sense. The Doratabo was considered to be an entity that haunted forgotten rice fields, where vegetation had overgrown and mud had swallowed the crop. These muddy spirits would arise and torment the living with their howls and vile presence, until the owners of the land changed their ways and tended to their wasted fields. What on odd thing! Where on earth did they get that idea? Well I'll tell you!
I made mention before that Doratabo love mud and usually show up wherever it is in excess, right? Well, when rice fields get neglected and are left to the elements, the fields tend to get overgrown and muddy. Once this starts to happen, local Doratabo take notice, and they think these places would make lovely homes! So a few move in, trampling the vegetation and churning up the earth, making the field even more foul and mucky. As they do this, more Doratabo show up to take advantage of this new place, and eventually the whole field becomes a flat of mud and drowned rice plants. So if one neglects their rice fields, then these "men of mud" show up and start making it worse. This image is made possible through the large head and clawed arms of the Doratabo rising out of the mud, giving folks the impression of a humanoid clawing out of the muck. Their large colorful lump on their faces also makes people think of an eye, turning this angry spirit into an angry cyclops! But what of the howling? Well, when Doratabo gather in large numbers, things get heated during the mating season. Males will stand proud on the mud flats, with their colorful nose ornament on full display. They suck up air and then let it all out in long howl, which kind of sounds like a deep long burp. They make these noises to attract females and let other males know who is on top. If any challengers show up, it is some good old mud wrestling until one of them slinks off in defeat! While this is all about mating to them, folks mistake these calls for groans and moans of restless spirits.
While in the past, they once believed these fish to be upset spirits angered by the neglected rice fields, people now recognize them as both a simple species and an important environmental cue. When water levels change, and vegetation starts choking out a water body, the Doratabo will show up for the mud and their presence will speed up the process. The waterways will grow murky and stifled, and local vegetation will get trampled until the whole area is just a muddy field. Not the end of the world, but not good for species that used to live in these pristine waters! So now people know to keep an eye out for Doratabo moving into water bodies they aren't usually in, as it is a sign that something is wrong with the environment. So it turns out that they aren't restless spirits, but they do appear to be a modern day omen!
Chlora Myron
Dryad Natural Historian
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"Doratabo"
The season calls for some spirits or yokai! Could always stand to have a couple of those! Now lets shove it into a fish!
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The great regular sleep experiment of 2024 day uh... "too much tea"
Well it turns out that while caffeine helps me sleep fine for my morning slot... Drinking a lot of fluids doesn't...
Other than being up to pee a whole lot, I slept well enough, ended up staying in bed till closer to 3 on account of the getting up to pee a bunch. Lesson learned. That could have gone way worse.
I *think* these sleep shifts are as good as it's going to get. One is even right after morning errands where I get in, put stuff away and want nothing more than to shower and fall into bed.
Also Pumpkin will let me sleep for 4 hours at a time, if it's at times he's used to me doing it and if it doesn't go on much longer than that... Because babies [cats] need to be fed every 4 hours :/ [this one does]
Right now I'm still a bit hyper-thyroid though, and it just got warm out, and I think my immune system is 'activating' against something again, so I have been trying to push myself to do chores if I am going to be awake and feel physically horrible anyway.
I did that thing where after scrubbing the floor yesterday and letting it dry, I swept it again today in greater detail and washed it again. Ooooh aaaah clean floors. Cleaned the toilet, washed dishes, did some sink laundry.
AND I FOUND MY 'O' KEY!!! I have a full keyboard again!
The main thing is I am trying to keep all the cleaning and organizing 1. Quiet and 2. done at a pace I could maintain on most days, because if I get a bee in my bonnet about it and wear myself down, i might get a huge chunk done... I might even get the 'rest' as done as it can be, but then I will crash and have to recover, which might mean falling behind on everything again and breaking any fragile habits, and I don't want to do that...
The only issue I see with this sleep schedule is it tends to take me 4 ish hours to wake up after sleeping and a bit to wind down... So the 5 hours between my sleeps works fine on days where I can spend that 5 hours doing nothing much, but on days where I need to do stuff --that isn't groceries before morning bedtime and crashing-- it means 8 hours spent sleeping, plus the five in between that I can't use, plus another 3 minimum to get running, plus whatever hours I sleep past 2pm because i need extra sleep, and then having those remaining hours be in the middle of the night.
The only other way to approach it is by waking up and immediately throwing myself into doing things before I am awake enough to process anything, like how much it hurts... And that can be okay for basic cleaning, but I am so out-of-it when I first wake up that doing anything with anything heavy or sharp or powered becomes actively dangerous. ... Which is why it usually takes me 4 ish hours to get running because otherwise I am not alert... and that leaves... maybe 7 hours. Mostly being at night will add to my ability to being alert, and those hours would be great for working on art or writing and quiet creative projects, but it's not workable for any kind of tool use, or any heavy cleaning or organizing. [If I had my own house it would be fine]
And the problem is that if I am left with no times of day that are convenient to do a thing... I end up unconsciously avoiding it without realizing what's getting in my way. I KNOW I do that, so I am trying to set myself up for success instead of failure.
My remaining hope is that as I get used to this schedule, if I can keep it without the *symptoms*... I'll start to get alert or sleepy faster when it's appropriate and struggle less to do things during the 5 hours between sleeps.
On the bright side at least I am *mostly* only fighting my own body for this, but not having roommates to also have to work around... Just apartment neighbours.
If I can just get really used to a half-awake 5 hours of misery on any morning I have to get shit done, it'll be mostly fine, probably??
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I have been gone forever.... It's time I stop lurking....... Okay but fr I really have not been in your asks forever 😭 I have been keeping up with things though 🗣️💯🔥 bro I can't cause I have been so sentimental and emotional lately!!! What is wrong with me!!! I just cried over how my brother used to look up to me and now he like hates my guts 😞💔 everyone around has felt my sappy, cheesy wrath too.... I think I'm making the loml borderline uncomfortable with how lovey dovey I've been! I mean not really uncomfy LMAO, but like it's very unusual for me. He and I got into an argument the other day and I couldn't stop saying my feelings without saying it in such a harsh manner, which is like not me?!?? I mean I nag him with problems all the time but I usually try to be gentle about it, I got so emotional and angry that I wouldn't be gentle bro!!! I wasn't like intentionally trying to make him feel like nothing, it was more of me being less understanding. The calm soft words id say were sharp and harsh, like everything I was saying had a harsh manner 😭💔 i felt so bad, I seriously did. I was tempted to give him this super long apology but I know he hates super long apologies so i held back on it, but I think I've been super emotional and stuff beCAUSE of that and now I can't stop saying how much I love him yadda yadda. I'm so lovesick for him 💔 but now I'm trying to stop nagging him and be yk ME again!! I've been so off 😡 can you tell loneliness has caught up to me...... I fear I'm losing my aura in this ask but oh well!! It's anonymous not like you know who I am 🗣️🔥🔥
Basically tho, this current writing you're doing is actually so well written!!!? I mean your stories and whatnot are always extremely good, but the complexity of gojos character right now?? LET ME DIVE IN!!! What happened???! Maybe you've explained it somewhere and I don't remember, but why is lil bro pursuing hookups for comfort!! Why does he avoid any sort of feelings!! Gojo LOCK IN!!! WE ALL JUST HAVE TO LOCK IN!!!!!!! Anyways, hope you didn't miss my long asks too much 🤞 perhaps... I'll be around more often..... (Oh bruh my sleep schedule is so cooked!! I finally laid down to sleep at like 5 pm, I slept for like 4 hours and ik it's gonna be a repeat of staying up all night and then falling asleep at 5 pm and waking up 4 hours later 😭😭💔)((it's caused me to miss my sweetie pies message today!!!! I have got to wake up 😡😡))
Your beautiful amazing talented fan,
-👽 anon (gosh yes praise my return!!!) ((you prob forgot anyway LMAO IM JUST EMBARRASSING MYSELF ATP 😭))
OMG 👽 ANON HELLO!!!! it really has felt like forever….! glad to see u back!!
i think something is going on in the universe bc i’ve also been emotional and sentimental especially with my lover… could potentially just be my meds tho but ill blame it on the stars ! i hope u get back to normal soon ❤️
THANK U SM THAT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME CONSIDERING I FELT LIKE YHIS SMAU HAS BEEN A FLOP…. and he briefly mentioned it in his little monologue during the party at choso’s house
rip ur sleep schedule… and yes plz come around more often again!!!!
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2024 Year End Tarot Reading
A very long and personal review of 2024, beginning with a year end tarot spread.
I did a year end tarot spread, and I want to do a more free form review of 2024. But first, the tarot spread:
1.) Card to represent me in 2024: XVIII The Moon
Not sure how to feel about this, especially since this is the only Major Arcana I drew, meaning that it dominates the reading. The moon is a signifier of uncertainty and repressed emotions. It implies I avoided my feelings in 2024 and did not deal with my emotions and related problems. Aww yisss.
I think this is kind of… fair for me, though. I have an awful habit of trying to logic my way out of my feelings, or to think… It doesn’t matter if I feel X, what matters is the practical thing or the problem at hand. Which, not great, but… As a kid, I’d get scolded for laughing too loud or “being too happy,” and of course, showing any negative emotions was received far worse. This is a part of me now. Being cognizant of it is important.
2.) Soul lesson learned: Knight of Swords
Actively used intellect to achieve goals. Driven, ambitious, action-oriented. You can see where being too much this way might cause me to ignore my emotions, lol! At the same time, this is also very much me, sharp as a tack, able to anticipate and plan for problems, competent as hell.
I think that growing up, and even in my 20s, I saw myself as a sensitive, emotional, soft girl. The older I get, the more I recognize myself as a fierce thinker, planner, and action-taker. I’m still not sure what I think about that. Do I want to be that soft hearted girl, or am I actively avoiding her? Do I shut my own eyes to how smart and capable I am?
Most of all, though, I want more energy for things outside of work, and even outside of my hobbies. I want more time for my heart, and like. The hell does that look like?
3.) How the soul lesson changed me: Three of Wands
Thanks to your solid strategy and ongoing drive, your plans are unfolding as desired. There are opportunities available to broaden your horizons. Your hopes lie beyond your current comfort zone. You have what you need to reach them, but it’s time to think big, explore, and potentially make changes.
I certainly am open to some new things, recently. Maybe even wanting them. I’m afraid of the changes, though, and of things outside of my control.
4.) Something that held me back: King of Swords
The King of Swords is rational and logical, able to keep emotions in check. You are impartial, objective, and fair.
So like, how is that holding me back? Is it because I am TOO logical and cool-headed? Do I need to let loose? Interesting that my soul lesson and what held me back are both court cards in the sword suit, the realm of the intellect. But is it strange, really? Anything can damage in excess.
Another possible interpretation is that it is time to seek out someone who embodies the King of Swords: a therapist, a mentor, a financial adviser, a doctor. Any trusted expert who can help me. My king was not reversed, but a reversed King of Swords implies indecisiveness and lack of direction. I could be allowing my anxiety to delay decisions, which is extremely on brand.
5.) Something I ignored: Ten of Wands
You are taking on extra responsibility or burdens. Usually, this card implies that these burdens are temporary, that the outcome will be worthwhile, AND that the time of burden will end soon, since the cycle of each Tarot suit ends with 10. But if there is no end in sight, this card asks the Seeker to stop and examine their lifestyle. Are your efforts sustainable? Is the reward worthwhile? If so, press on. If not, it’s time to make a change.
And god, yeah, I could use a change.
6.) Something I should be proud of: Eight of Pentacles
You are working hard on your skills and achieving mastery of what you do. You are diligent, hard-working, and achieve whatever you apply yourself to. You are detail-oriented, so you might have noticed ways to improve your life and happiness. Thankfully, you are willing to put in the hard work and planning to implement whatever will give you fulfillment.
Overall, there is a conscientious and hard-working vibe to your life. Continue working on yourself to become closer to your ideal person.
Dude, tarot is ridiculous, I cannot believe I can draw 6 cards and tell a coherent story like this. What we see here is a case of a hard-working person getting too lost in the day-to-day grind, and neglecting emotion and desires in favor of practicality and logic. I have the internal resources to achieve anything, but I’m getting too lost in what needs to be done, figured out, and dealt with to take care of myself.
I’m not sure how this makes me feel. It’s nothing I don’t know, but… Hm. When can I let go and focus on things outside of my career? What IS outside my career? That’s a fair question in a capitalist society. And like, if I’m struggling now, how much worse will it be if I decide to have a baby?
I don’t know. I feel forever torn, because in reality, my job is quite nice. I’m a scientist, which suits me well, and is reflected by the constant appearance of the suit of swords in my readings. Swords is the suit of the intellect, wands are the suit of creativity. That leave cups, the suit of emotion, and pentacles, the suit of practical concerns (money, basic needs, the physical world). My work contributes to creating life changing and saving medicines, and I also develop new and more efficient technologies for my line of research. It’s a cool and engaging job! I’m well regarded and trusted by my colleagues!
But I give 200% effort to my job, and it’s never enough. My job is absolutely ravenous. It’s a damned black hole. My group’s productivity has gone up literally like 40 fold the 2 years I’ve been there. We have not hired anyone new. I fucking work and innovate and do the experiments and go to the meetings and do data management and push the envelope and redefine the parameters and JESUS CHRIST, I can’t exist on the razor edge of innovation my whole life. It’s been 14 years in biotech! Following a lifetime of education where I perpetually had to be in the top 30% to get into the next stage. I am so lucky and blessed, but if I stop moving, I’m afraid I might never be able to get up again.
I watched a streamer try to take 100,000 steps in 1 day. He woke up at some god awful hour to start and was on his feet until 7 PM, when he collapsed on bed “for just a second.” He couldn’t stand back up. His legs wouldn’t work. That’s exactly how I feel.
So, how do I give less to work, and is that really the problem? Am I massively burnt out, and no matter what I’m doing, I’d feel depleted? Am I failing to manage my anxiety disorder, and giving far more time and energy to the annoyances and hiccups that come up at any job? If so, what do I do about that?
What I want in 2025
Knowing what I want has always been difficult. Which is insane, given that I have so much. I have a husband I adore who loves me, two awesome cats, a house, savings, a career, nice stuff. But I feel like I’ve existed in a state of perpetual depletion for… God, for as long as I can remember.
But here is what I want right now:
-To lose weight
This is also doctor’s orders. I’m technically obese (like within 10 pounds of the cutoff).
-To gain muscle mass
Also my doctor’s orders. Humans lose muscle mass in their 30s. You need to generate and maintain it while your body is still young.
-To manage myself better at work and to give my job less of me
I naturally give my best to whatever is in front of me. That is not a brag. In fact, it’s not tenable and is actively damaging at a job in America, where the expectation is forever, “generate more millions for the shareholders.” While my work ethic makes my bosses like me, it has only once in 14 years gotten me a promotion (except for when I left a company to find a new job with a better title/package).
-Help???
During my limited not-at-work time, I am struggling more and more to uh. To DO anything. I’ve been wondering if I’m depressed? How many mood disorders can you fit into one human? I can’t seem to enjoy or be interested in things. Anything that exerts effort is an instant no. What DO people do for fun???? Do I know how to have fun? Am I happy??? Have I ever been happy? Spiraling is great!
Until recently, I filled my free time with writing. I love writing, but I’m struggling with sharing my work online for a multitude of reasons. I know I can still write and keep it offline, and I have a bit, but it’s not nearly as much. My husband proposes movies to watch or games to play, but apparently I’d rather turn on a Youtube streamer and lowkey dissociate.
This is not healthy behavior.
I think I might need to see my therapist again. I’ve also had anxiety medication recommended to me by several coworkers. I always adamantly wanted to avoid that. Am I still me if I take medication that alters my brain chemistry? And as a result of my anxiety, I worry that I will be part of the small percentage of people who become violent after taking mood disorder medication. Plus, it can cause people to gain weight, which is not something I can afford while on doctor’s orders to lose weight.
-Baby????
My husband wants a baby. We’ve been married for, god, 11 years and together for 21. Around age 28, I started asking annually-ish if he wanted a family, and he always said, “Not now.” Suddenly, I’m almost 36, and it’s, “yes!” I don’t know how I feel about this.
Genuinely, I can’t handle more responsibility in my life. Work already squeezes me dry. I also have a ton of moral reservations about reproducing in the year of our lord 2024, and that was BEFORE knowing about the incoming Trump administration and the sweeping loss of reproductive rights and support systems in America.
If I could somehow have a baby tomorrow, I don’t think I’d be a good mom. Not now. I’m basically an anxiety-riddled scientist, and not much else. I’ve been afraid of motherhood for a long time, mostly because… In so many cultures, and in the families I saw as I grew up, the mother takes on nearly all the burden of parenthood. So frequently, mom loses her identity, does all the child rearing and home stuff, and becomes open to the critique of the world as a mother. And she still has that 9-5, same as dad, if she’s lucky.
My husband has spent 21 years showing me that he is a true partner. He frankly does more of the home stuff than I do, and invents additional ways to care for and adore me. I should trust that he will be an equal or better parent than me, but I’m still afraid, which indicates to me that my childhood trauma is involved. Childhood and family are not pleasant, comforting concepts to me; it’s the opposite.
I don’t think I can do both work and parenting. I don’t have any particular attachment to my job. I think I excel at it, and I like when people ask me science questions and about my work in general. But I see it as a source of money and stress. Husband says he’ll support me quitting, whether permanently or until baby is in school, but I’m afraid to give up my financial security.
Economically, we are in a better place, resource wise, to have a baby than most. But like. Do I even want one? I can’t help feeling that I’m doing the baby a disservice just… by… birthing it.
I also keep trying to figure out why someone would want a baby, and the thing is, I like kids! Sure, I am easily overstimulated, so maybe we’re not the most compatible, but kids are funny and smart and cute. And the older I get, the more I see how difficult it is to hang on to people as you age. Your family passes away. Your friends are slammed, and they can’t use their 2 weeks of PTO per year on meeting up. I understand wanting more love and more people in your life. In fact, I think I am looking for something more.
But I also don’t think I can take on something new without cracking.
For now, I think the therapy and anxiety meds might be step one, along with losing weight, if I can… If I can pump myself up for that. Talking to my therapist is easy, since I trust her already, but my insurance no longer covers it, so there’s the money angle. I guess we shall see.
I hope you are all hanging in there and got through 2024 okay. I'll be real: 2025 is going to bring challenges. But like. We're all here together, and being alive is pretty dope. Let's all be there for each other and do our best <3 Love you!
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I don't know wether you are taking requests right now so if/when you are I hope you can do this-
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Hello! I'm Amelia and I just wanted to know, do you have any tips for being confident? I have very little confidence in myself and whatever I do so I wanted to know if you could give me some advice! If you're not too busy that is! I would hate to burden you...
Best Believe I’m Still Bejeweled
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First off, I’m sorry for being inactive, I’m pretty sure I failed to post for 2 weeks conservatively at the least. However, I am back and I will be making up for the time lost there will be two more posts within the week to make up.
“Hello, Amelia! Here’s how I see it,” Yuu starts.
“Let’s identify your lack of confidence as a problem…which means you have to solve it. The first step to problem solving is:” They pause to give listeners time to answer, which they might not hear, but they’re trying to get everyone on the same page.
“Identify said problem, of course; but in this case, we need to identify where it stems out from. The source, if you will. ‘What’s making you feel like that?’ is the question we’ll have to ask first.” They hum, satisfied in they way they delivered their words.
“Is it a person talking down to you? Distance yourself, cut them off. Then, talk yourself up! Because they sure won’t do it for you,” Yuu smirks.
“But if you still won’t, I’ll start for you,” A soft smile graces their features.
“I may not know you, but I will never, never get tired of saying this, repeating it, even if I fade to become nothing but a disembodied voice in your memories,”
“I’m proud of you, you deserve every single star in the sky and everything beyond.” They say, surprised by their own words.
Embarrassed, they clear their throat.
“Excuse me, it seems like spending time around Rook has rubbed onto me.” They scratch their face sheepishly.
“Anyways! Back to the topic!” They clap, the sharp sound echoing through the broadcasting room.
“To heighten your confidence, thinking about all that you’ve achieved, thinking you can do nothing will not help in cases like these.” They start to ramble.
“Also, stop being humble, go flaunt yourself to the world. Don’t mind what people say, what are they going to do? You’re a diamond waiting to shine!”
“And a diamond’s gotta shine.” Yuu raises their eyebrows at their words, not expecting to discover another analogy they can use.
“Let’s go back, regarding toxic environments. They usually cause people to lose confidence in themselves and project their insecurities onto others, so to avoid being the cause of someone else’s insecurities, surround yourself with positive people.”
“But environments aren’t the only factors coming into play here; how you act towards said environment can make or break yourself.” They say, making random hand gestures.
“Because what good will a healthy environment be if you sabotage it? By ‘sabotaging it,’ I mean comparing yourself to others.”
“Everyone is different, why would you compare yourself to someone who has a different personality, a different mindset and vary from you in a myriad of ways? Everyone has their weaknesses, but also strengths.”
“So, focusing in nurturing your own talents and strengths will do more good than comparing yourself.” They puff their cheeks out, seemingly finished with their rant.
“Think of it this way, you’re not the only one who feels like this. If you interact with people, you’ll find that your insecurities, your dreams, everything; likely aren’t rare.”
“There are times that you’ll feel you only have yourself, and that’s okay! As long as you know you can rely on yourself, you’ll brave through anything.”
“And one last thing,” Yuu says, noticing the timer they have for every question running out.
“A healthy mindset starts with a healthy body. I don’t care if you think you’ve ‘gained too much weight’ or ‘don’t deserve it,’ some people need will need tough love and I will not hesitate to demonstrate that myself.”
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Our fairytale has come to an end.
#twst yuu#disney twst#twisted wonderland#unique magic: listen up#twst#twst imagines#twst mc#answered asks#twst characters#unique magic#rook hunt#twst rook#rook twst#rook twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland rook hunt
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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)
Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k
MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist
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If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.
It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.
Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.
... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.
“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.
“He was just being nice.”
“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”
I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.
“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.
Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”
“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.
“Stop! It’s not like that!”
“Sure it’s not.”
Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.
“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.
I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.
Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.
“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”
But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.
“Okay – good.”
My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.
“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”
The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.
“You said you didn’t mind!”
In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”
When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.
As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.
“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.
“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.
The man beside him, however, was quick to question.
“Who’s this?”
As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.
“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.
“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.
I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.
“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”
“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.
There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.
“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.
Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.
“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”
With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.
“Ooh, is there a party?”
Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.
“No, it’s nothing.”
It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.
“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”
And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.
“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”
My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.
“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”
His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.
“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.
But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.
“Uhh...”
“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”
Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.
“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).
“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.
The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.
Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”
It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.
“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“I’m very motivated?”
Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”
I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.
“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.
Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”
But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.
I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.
With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”
Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.
Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.
Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.
Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.
“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.
I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.
“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”
I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.
“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”
Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.
Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”
“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”
The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.
“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.
Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”
It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.
I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.
Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.
“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”
Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.
“Double promise. Promise squared.”
“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”
I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.
“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”
I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.
“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”
“For what?” he also said through laughter.
“I— don’t know.”
Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.
Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”
So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.
Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.
I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.
——————————————————
There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.
That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.
No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.
“So... Bunny.”
“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.
“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.
“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”
“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”
But that time, it was me who issued the warning.
“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”
“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”
The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.
Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”
He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”
“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.
“She’s a virgin.”
Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.
“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.
But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”
It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.
“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”
“Cut it out.”
Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”
“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”
The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.
“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”
“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”
“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”
I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.
But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.
A fucking tease.
“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.
“Are you done?”
As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.
“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”
I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.
“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.
“Goodnight!”
Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.
But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.
Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.
As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.
Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.
“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”
I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.
It was a set of pictures.
Pictures of her.
“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”
How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.
I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.
They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.
“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”
As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.
I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.
But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.
But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.
Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.
Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.
I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.
That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.
I wanted it. I wanted her.
My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.
If I stole it from her, would it be mine?
Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?
If I ruined her, would she be mine?
I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.
She would be mine.
That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.
She would be mine.
The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.
She was already mine.
——————————————————
| Part Four |
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid series#reid series#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds smut#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid slow burn#spencer reid x reader#reid x reader#spencer x reader#professor spencer reid#prof spencer reid#professor reid#prof reid#tbatb#dr spencer reid#dr reid
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The Dock
A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader
Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other
Word count: 4.5k+
Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger
Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]
---
You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.
Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”
“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”
“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”
The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.
“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”
“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.
“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.
“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.
“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.
“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.
“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.
“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.
“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.
“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”
“Shut up, Sam!”
A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.
---
“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.
“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”
“Well then, let’s hear it.”
“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”
“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”
“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”
“Sure he would,” you scoffed.
“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”
“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.
“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.
“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”
“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”
“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.
~
“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.
“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.
You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”
“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.
“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”
You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.
As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.
“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”
You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.
“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”
“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”
Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”
A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.
“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”
You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.
“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”
That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.
“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.
“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”
You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.
You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.
Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.
“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.
“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.
“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”
Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”
You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.
“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.
“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.
“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”
“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.
“Tony-”
“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”
“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.
“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.
Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.
~
“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”
---
“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.
You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.
“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”
“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.
Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.
“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.
“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.
“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”
“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.
“I’m just saying.”
“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”
“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.
“You alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.
“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.
“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.
“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”
“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”
“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”
“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”
Soon. He was going to do it soon.
---
“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.
“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.
“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.
“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.
“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push.
“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.
“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”
You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”
“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.
“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).
“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.
“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”
The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.
“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.
“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”
“Well half the fun is falling off.”
“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”
“What would you suggest we rather do then?”
“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”
“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.
“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.
“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.
“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.
“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.
“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”
“Good.”
A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.
His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.
“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.
This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.
---
You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?
“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“Oh, okay.”
“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”
“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.
He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.
“Mind if I join?”
“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.
Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.
Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.
“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”
You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.
“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.
“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.
“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”
You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.
“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”
“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.
“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.
Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.
“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.
“For what?”
“Your face.”
His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”
“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”
“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”
You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.
He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.
“Can I kiss you?”
You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”
You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.
“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.
A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.
“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”
You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.
You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.
“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.
“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.
“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.
“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.
“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”
“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.
“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”
“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”
“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came. “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”
“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.
---
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I love your writing.
if it's not too much trouble may i make a request? I'm thinking the Dimitrescu women meeting and/or courting a fellow immortal.
the circumstances of the immortal's powers and possession of immorality are entirely up to you. I just like the idea of them meeting someone they could literally spend forever with...because they deserve it ❤
I wasn't sure if you wanted a story or headcanons? I went with HCs, here, but if you wanted more of a drabble or whatever just lemme know and I'll write something like that.
Also, I got excited and carried away so this has the whole Dimitrescu family, plus shorter ones for both Mother Miranda and Donna. Admittedly Alcina's is also a little on the shorter side? I tried to write everything that came to mind, but I am kinda tired right now, sorry. Might reblog this and add some more later.
(Under read-more for length)
Cassandra:
Tries (and fails) to hide her excitement. Mortality is one of the bigger things that has made her keep her distance to others, at least in the past. Every Maiden she’s ever been the slightest bit smitten with, up until this point, has been incredibly fragile. Seeing as she’s not exactly the softest person, one can easily imagine why that would be a turn off for her. But now that’s no longer a problem!
On the other had… having an immortal partner gives Cassandra pause. Why? Because what if they breakup? Normally, she can just, ahem, “dispose” of any exes (regardless of how much it hurts) so she doesn’t have to see them/deal with them anymore. If that’s not an option, she’ll definitely take longer than usual to do anything about her feelings. She wants to be sure, 100%, before she gets in over her head. Chances are she won’t hold back for as long as she wants though.
Likely to have a loud, messy confession. She’ll have been avoiding you for a few days, always ducking out of whatever rooms you enter, leaving you both hurt and confused. After enlisting the help of her sisters, you’ll be able to corner her outside. She’ll tell you, under no uncertain circumstances, to leave her alone. But you’ll refuse, demanding an explanation.
“I thought we had something. I thought you cared,” you’ll snap, eyes watering. “If that’s changed… if I was wrong, just tell me. I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.” Cue thunder and raining (because tropes) and Cassandra dramatically pulling you into a kiss, holding you so tightly you think you might bruise. Then she’s demanding that you stay, refusing to apologize but making it clear just how much she does care.
Being immortal, you’re not as defenseless as some of Cassandra’s past interests. Naturally, she doesn’t get quite as protective as she normally would. She’ll still have your back no matter what, ready to fight by your side against any foe, and will probably consider doing so a “fun bonding activity”. Oh, some lycans are encroaching on Dimitrescu territory? Time to go destroy them, as a power couple!
Despite having all the time in the world, Cassandra won’t change much of her actual courting behavior, nor the rate at which things advance. She’s still gonna get handsy fairly early on, still gonna “rah!” at you in the hallways, and still going to struggle with her jealousy.
Immortality Compatibility: I can see Cassandra going for another vampire (or vampire adjacent) creature, or someone demonic. She likes her lovers a bit rough, with some nice bite to their personalities. If you’ve got sharp teeth, or claws, or glowing eyes? Oh boy, she’s gonna be making heart eyes at you all the time.
Bela:
If your immortality isn’t immediately obvious, Bela is over the moon with joy when she finds out. Her eyes will go wide for a moment, before she tries to seem calm (so as to not freak you out), but her heart is pounding. This is what she’s been hoping for. As much as Mother Miranda has done for her family, there’s no guarantee that she’d be willing to give more. Even if Miranda granted Bela’s lover her “gift”, there was no telling what the results would be, or if the lover would survive. Now that there’s no need for such a transformation, it’s far easier for Bela to imagine herself in love (and eventually be in love).
Slow-burn romance over a decade or longer, oops. Doesn’t even necessarily mean to take things so slowly, just doesn’t feel a need to rush things, preferring that they develop organically. With both of you having unlimited time, you’re both used to working on a very large timescale. Maidens watching the two of you probably place bets on how long it’ll take you to hold hands for the first time. Everyone knows it’s coming, but no matter how much Cassandra and Daniela complain, Bela refuses to jump into things. By the time the two of you are officially together, you’re probably madly in love with each other.
More protective than Cassandra, if only because she knows just how rare you are. Immortal or not, you likely still have a weakness, and Bela will do everything in her power to make sure no one else knows what it is. If applicable, she will also ensure she has a countermeasure readily available. For example: If you were weak to fire, she’d make sure that the castle keeps extinguishers handy, just in case. Though they should probably already do that. Not that the Dimitrescu family cares much for OSHA compliance.
Somehow grows more in love with you with every passing year, and makes sure that you know this. Whether you’ve been together for one year or one century (because in this house we ignore canon), she’s always performing little acts of love, giving constant reminders of how strongly she feels. Gifts, special dates, book recommendations, etc.
Immortality Compatibility: Bela seems like the type to go for someone with a calming presence, and perhaps somewhat of a contrast to herself. I can picture her with someone somewhat angelic, or druidic, someone very in tune with nature. She’d love to feed deer with you and relax in the forest! Or lay against a tree by your side, listening to you talk about various microorganisms for hours at a time.
Daniela:
Practically tackles you when she finds out/connects the dots. This is just like one of her romance novels, where a lonely (attractive as fuck) immortal spends years in isolation before finally meeting the love of their life, who they get to spend the rest of eternity with. Absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation. Won’t stop kissing you and pulling you close, rambling about how great it’s gonna be to spend your lives together. Honestly? Kind of overwhelming. You might have to remind her a few times that you don’t have to rush into things, considering you have all the time in the world.
Introduces you to people as her “super cool/rad immortal life partner”. Genuinely cannot bring herself to not brag about you. If her sisters haven’t found someone like you yet, you can bet that Daniela will tease them about it all the time (much to their annoyance). If Momma Alcina doesn’t, though? Dani will keep her thoughts to herself, thank you very much (being grounded at her age does not impress the s/o).
Tries not to show it, but she’s actually very nervous. You’re immortal! You’ve probably seen a lot of shit (she certainly has)! Worries about keeping you interested in her, though she would never admit it. This tends to lead to her performing ridiculous acts to showcase her affection, regardless of the cost or, like, whether or not you’d even enjoy whatever she has planned. In order to counter her anxiety, you’ll want to reassure her whenever you can, and give her plenty of “I love you”s.
Strikes a decent balance between Cassandra’s nonchalant attitude and Bela’s protectiveness. Will defend you if you need it, playing up the romantic aspect, but also entirely willing to hide behind you in a scary situation.
Immortality Compatibility: Having probably read Twilight… Dani would date a werewolf, as long as they weren’t the smelly kind. Also interested in a sort of “magical”/elemental type, especially if their powers are influenced by emotions. In other words, if someone flirts with her in front of you, and your response is to subconsciously light your hands/the other person on fire? She thinks that’s hot, pun intended.
Alcina:
“Oh? Interesting,” she’d say, smiling softly (and trying to ignore the heat rushing to her face). Similarly to Cassandra, she’d try to play it off, not wanting to seem too excited. And, well, she’s not as excited as any of her daughters are. After all, she’s had more time than them to “get used” to the idea of outliving any potential romantic interests. So, she’s not exactly desperate for a relationship, even with someone she could spend an eternity with.
That being said, if she is romantically interested in them, she’s very relieved. Outliving a loved one can be incredibly traumatizing (fuck you c*pcom, you know what you did), and knowing that you’re safe (or at least safer than most) brings her no small amount of comfort.
Also, just glad to have another person close to her age around. Her daughters are somewhat stuck as young adults, and I imagine Alcina would want someone who gained immortality a little later in life, such as herself, as opposed to, ya know, reminding her of her children. That probably goes without saying. Hopefully.
More so than her daughters, Alcina would change her level of protectiveness depending on her s/o’s power level. If you’re a shapeshifter who can also turn into a big ass dragon? Then she’s not going to coddle you. If you’re immortal but still vulnerable, then she’s going to do her best to keep you safe, even going so far as to enlist the assistance of her daughters. “If you see a single Maiden growing mistletoe, or bringing some in from the village, let me know immediately,” or something like that, depending on your weakness.
Immortality Compatibility: Definitely would want someone in a situation similar to herself, having once been truly human, only to be “elevated” by something. Bonus points if you’re another disciple of Miranda, double bonus points if Miranda specifically “made” you to be Alcina’s boo/honey/darling/dear.
Bonus! Mother Miranda:
Oh god finally someone who won’t leave her (can’t leave her). No one can take you away from her, and that’s a relief that she’s been craving for over a century. Even if romance isn’t high on her priority list, she welcomes it with open arms, glad to have someone by her side through all of life’s chaos.
Admittedly slow to trust at first, probably just using you as a tool at first. But prove yourself enough, show that your devotion is more than just misdirected self-interest, and she’ll start to warm up to you. Forming a real relationship would likely take a couple decades, similar to with Bela. Once you are together, however, the two of you are inseparable in all matters.
You’d be her #1 follower, most trusted adviser, and the only person allowed to understand 100% of her thoughts and motives. While Miranda wouldn’t allow you to be seen as the same level as her (sorry), you’d still be a legend among the villagers. To them, you’re Mother Miranda’s champion, the epitome of a devoted follower that they all aspire to emulate. Not that they know the two of you are a couple, though.
Immortality Compatibility: No gimmicks, no cheap tricks, she wants (and respects) a fellow scientist, someone who clawed their way through adversity and forged themselves into something indestructible. Double the interest if you did so for a similar cause to her own, as she would appreciate your ability to relate to her suffering.
Bonus! Donna:
Someone to play with! FOREVER! No more losing people she cares about, no more accidentally breaking people, no more people scrambling to leave. Now that she has you, she can finally spend some quality time with another (living?) person. Honestly her dolls (or at least Angie) are just as excited as she is. Regardless of her relations with the other three Lords, Donna much prefers the company of a lover.
For real though she’s shy as hell and you might not even realize who’s pulling the strings until you’ve been in her house for over a year. She’d probably use her powers to trap you inside, at least at first, though they’d be nice hallucinations. You’d have to treat the dolls nicely, especially Angie, before she’d let you interact with her.
Eventually you’d be allowed to leave, and you’d be given a key to return whenever you wanted to. Assuming that you do, in fact, come back, the two of you would have a very, very slow romance, if only because of Donna’s anxiety. Hand holding makes both of your faces turn beet red, seriously.
Immortality Compatibility: *chanting* GHOST GIRLFRIEND GHOST GIRLFRIEND POLTERGEIST PARTNER POLTERGEIST PARTNER WOOHOO! Something with a flexible, only-sometimes-tangible form, who absolutely could have left at any time but didn’t because they wanted to stay.
#cassandra dimitrescu x reader#bela dimitrescu x reader#daniela dimitrescu x reader#lady dimitrescu x reader#mother miranda x reader#donna beneviento x reader#resident evil: village#re8 village
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It Was You All Along (Part 7)

Author’s note: So that wasn’t much of a break, but I couldn’t resist! Here is the next installment of the series, featuring a meme I made myself to reflect the vibes of the first half of this part! And yes, it is supposed to be that pixely. It adds spice. Also, I tried to be as vague as possible describing reader’s outfit towards the end so that you could imagine it the way you wanted! As always, feedback is appreciated, and I hope you all enjoy! Link to my ask box!
Tags: @ayyyyitswednesdaymydoods @blackjay04 @weaselbee04 @bravelittlesunflower @mxsmwndr
A voice called for me, but I didn’t quite process it. I was too busy trying to fix this gigantic, gaping hole in Geralt’s trousers. Melitele knows if I don’t do it, he would just walk around with it decorating his attire.
The voice called for me again, but this time I ignored it on purpose. If I lost concentration, I would prick myself with the needle...again. And I didn’t really want to turn my fingers into more of a bloody mess than they already were.
I heard footsteps beside me, but I didn’t realize how close they were until a rush of coldness surrounded my body. Not only coldness, but wetness. A bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on me, causing me to scream and drop what I was doing as I stood up in shock.
“Julian!”
His real name still felt unfamiliar on my lips. I had taken to calling him that every so often, usually when I was angry with him, or when I was messing with him. It was for that reason, I think, that he froze so suddenly when I spoke. He wasn’t used to it either, even though he was the one that suggested I start using it more.
The bucket made a small thump sound as it hit the ground beneath us, and Jaskier raised his hands up in an apology. But he also backed away like a scared animal. I almost felt bad for him. Almost, but not quite.
“Now, (Y/N)...I was just trying to get your attention is all. It’s quite important, you see.”
I gathered my skirts in my hands and stomped towards him, scowling and shivering the whole way.
“What could possibly be so important that you couldn’t wait until I was finished? And what made you think dumping cold water on me was a good idea?”
I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I starting running towards him, my clothes making a sloshing noise against my skin. A string of curse words left his mouth as he took off trying to get away from me. He could be quite fast when he wanted to be. But no way was I going to let him get away from me that easily.
As soon as he picked up speed, so did I. He wove through the trees surrounding our campsite, going in between them like a maze. Eventually we made it back to where we started. My spot was near a tree and the pants I had been working on were visibly in a bunch on the ground. But behind that was the river that I’m assuming the idiot got the water in the first place. I wonder if I could lead him back there... and “accidentally” knock him in.
As luck would have it, I didn’t even have to put that thought into action. He had made his way to the edge of the river, and turned quickly on his heel trying to run away from me again. But he slipped on the muddy bank, and fell right into the water himself.
Coming to a stop, a sharp laugh came from my chest suddenly. And I laughed even harder when he bobbed above the surface, hair sticking to his forehead and his fancy doublet soaked.
“That’s what you get!” I yelled to him between bouts of laughter.
While Jaskier pulled himself out of the water unceremoniously, I heard more footsteps behind me followed by a thud. Geralt must be back. Only one man I know could walk and sit down that heavily.
I turned towards the sound, and sure enough, Geralt was sitting down on the log he had claimed as his earlier. He took one look at me and one look at Jaskier who was now standing on the bank of the river, shivering like his life depended on it.
“I don’t even want to know,” said Geralt with a twitch of his eyebrow and a roll of his eyes.
~
Night had fallen now. I couldn’t help but reflect on the past few months since that attack at our camp. Things had been pretty boring since then honestly. But I guess I couldn’t complain. Being bored was better than being in danger.
Geralt was asleep and snoring at an unholy volume. This of course caused a glance between Jaskier and I, and sent us into a fit of silent laughter together. The kind of laughter that had your stomach hurting and your mouth open with no sound. The kind that had you grabbing onto your friend for dear life. Which is precisely what the two of us were doing right now. I had such a grip on Jaskier’s arm, I thought he surely must be in pain. But if he was, he made no mention of it and kept laughing with me.
However much time had passed, it seemed to only be a few minutes. And I still had my hand on his arm, although my grip definitely lessened. He didn’t notice this either, and simply looked into the dying flames with dried tears from his laughter on his cheeks. My gaze lingered a moment too long on his cheeks, and I began to think about how gentle his eyelashes looked against his skin as he blinked.
Heat rose in my cheeks and I silently withdrew my hand from his arm. This seemed to catch his attention though.
“Composed yourself now? Don’t need to steady yourself from anymore laughter?”
There was a glint in his eye as he asked me the questions. I had to keep from smiling.
“That depends. Got any jokes?”
He stood suddenly and rested a hand on his chin, making it seem like he was deep in thought.
“You look as if you are composing a new song, Julian.”
“I’m a musician, my dear, I am always composing.”
He paced around the fire, which was even lower than before. The way he took everything so seriously was something that entertained me, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself because of it.
Suddenly, he opened his mouth in a silent “Aha!”
“(Y/N), why must you never use a broken pen?”
I paused for a moment and scrunched my face in thought, trying to come up with an answer. But before I could, he delivered the punch line.
“It’s pointless, darling.”
I snorted at the same time Geralt groaned. The fucker was awake.
Jaskier almost jumped out of his boots at the sudden noise, which only caused me to laugh again. The pain in my stomach from earlier was back, but I couldn’t keep from laughing.
“Have you been awake this whole time, Geralt?” Jaskier yelled in surprise.
“Long enough. Don’t you have anything better to do? Like sleep?”
Jaskier open and closed his mouth a few times before settling on a simple, “Right,” in response. He then took his spot a few feet away from Geralt and laid down for the night.
“Goodnight, Geralt.” Jaskier said with a stifled yawn.
Geralt simply grunted in return, rolling over so his back was facing Jaskier.
“Goodnight, (Y/N),” Jaskier called in my direction.
“Goodnight, Jaskier. And goodnight Geralt!”
“Hmph,” was all I got in response.
There was a silence over our camp now. But it was too quiet. The kind of quiet that felt like it would be broken at any moment now. Jaskier’s voice was what broke it, of course.
“Goodnight, Roach.”
“Oh, yeah! Goodnight, Roach and Lily!” I called out excitedly.
“How could I forget Lily? Goodnight, Lily!” Jaskier parroted.
“Oh, for the love of-” Geralt groaned loudly, sitting up and gathering his things. He promptly moved farther and farther away from us, settling on a spot under the cover of darkness in the trees.
I snickered to myself as I got my things ready to lay down. Annoying Geralt had become one of our favorite things to do together over the past few months.
It became silent again, and I could hear Jaskier’s even breathing now, signalling that he was asleep. I had the feeling I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Call it instinct, I guess.
I laid down on my back and stared up at the sky. Jaskier and I were closer than ever, and it was so nice. But I needed more. I craved more. They say time heals all wounds, but my heart was still shattered after all these months had gone by. I was still so in love with my best friend that it hurt. Even more than it did before.
Jaskier had been acting differently lately though. He called me more nicknames, and he was even more of a flamboyant disaster than when I first met him. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him with any random women in bars or taverns anymore. Could he-? No. No way. I must be out of my mind.
My fingers instinctively went to the dagger Geralt had given me a while ago. Sometimes I would run my hands along the inscription, trying to remind myself to be brave like it said. I could almost laugh at myself right now. I was being anything but brave when it came to Jaskier.
“Could you please calm your nerves down? I can feel them from over here,” a gruff voice said in the distance. Geralt. Of course.
“Sorry to disturb you. Maybe you should move to another new spot, even farther away. Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask. How is Yennefer?”
I didn’t have to have Witcher senses to feel how that comment landed.
~
Morning came much more quickly than I was hoping it would. It meant today was the day we had to get moving, which meant we would be moving closer to the situation I had been trying to avoid thinking about. The ball.
I seemed to be the last one awake, and I could feel the energy as soon as I had rubbed the sleepiness from my reluctant eyes. Geralt sad brooding in the corner of our camp, and Jaskier was flitting about getting everyone’s things together. It was easy to see who was excited and who was not.
“Today is the day, you sad sack of...sadness,” Jaskier vocalized in regards to Geralt.
“I know. Don’t remind me.”
I almost laughed as I sat up from my spot on the ground. Geralt wasn’t looking forward to this, and truth be told, I wasn’t either. At least part of me wasn’t. The other part couldn’t help being excited in a childlike way. I had never been in a castle before, let alone a ballroom. Although I couldn’t help but feel like I would be out of place, and painfully so.
“Don’t look so excited, Geralt.”
“You weren’t there. You don’t know what happened at the last one.”
I winced and realized that he was right. Although Jaskier had told me some of what happened, I was almost certain that he watered down the events of Pavetta’s betrothal ball in doing so.
The man in question turned to look at me, apparently just now realizing I was awake.
“There you are! Come on, we are losing daylight!”
“Jaskier, do I even really need to come? Geralt is only going to be your body guard, so I don’t really have a purpose.”
“Don’t be silly. You must come! We couldn’t just leave you by yourself for hours at a time. These things do tend to take a while.”
I rolled my eyes and stood, stretching as I did so.
“I am a grown up, you know. I can take care of myself. Afraid I might get kidnapped?”
Jaskier scoffed and continued packing, mostly ignoring my comment. But it was true, I could take care of myself. Geralt had taught me some things with the dagger over the past few weeks, and I felt confident in my abilities.
“Well if I must go, at least be careful with my dress and things. I’m sure Yennefer paid good money for them.”
“The witch probably stole them, more like.”
I watched as Jaskier carefully started packing my things, and tried not to cackle when Geralt made a comment about shoving his foot somewhere it didn’t belong in reference to Jaskier.
Today was going to be quite...something.
~
Since we had done most of the travelling yesterday, what was left for today didn’t take long. We made it to the castle in no time it seemed.
Lily and Roach were tied up in the stables, in the same stall actually. I was quite happy that the stable master was willing to do that. They always seemed to enjoy each other’s company.
I sat in my borrowed room getting ready, and I was assuming that Geralt and Jaskier were in their own rooms doing the same thing. But that thought was at the back of my mind now as I looked at myself in the mirror. Or at least, what I think was myself. I didn’t really recognize the woman staring back at me.
Yennefer had picked out the most beautiful, elegant, and intricate floor-length ballgown I could ever imagine. It was sleeved as well, with lace adorning them to match the bodice. The skirt was made of layers on layers, it seemed, and with every move I made it swished gently to follow. It was even in my favorite color. I wonder how she knew? I don’t remember telling her...
She had also gotten me some jewelry to match, and the metals and gems complimented my skin tone perfectly. How did she know all this? I had only met her once, and it was very briefly. I would have to thank her for all this later.
Not long after I had finished getting dressed, jeweled, and made up, a knock sounded at my door.
“Come in,” I called.
Jaskier entered in his outfit for the night. It was a dark, silky purple with golden accents along the doublet’s center, and my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him in the reflection of the mirror I sat in front of.
“You look breathtaking, darling,” he said in a whisper as he approached me.
Hopefully he didn’t notice the blush creeping up the sides of my neck. I don’t think I would ever get used to his names for me.
“You don’t look too bad yourself. Compare that to when you fell into the water yesterday and looked like a dying animal, you basically are a different person.”
Jaskier feigned anger, but I could tell he was amused.
“Do you like your clothes? I made sure to tell Yennefer all your favorite colors and shiny things.”
My heart skipped a beat. He had told her all of that? I didn’t even know that he knew those things about me.
I stood before really thinking about what I was doing, and turned to face him, the shock evident on my face.
“You told her all that? I didn’t know that you knew such trivial facts about me...Thank you.”
He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.
“Of course I know. And it was no problem. I had to make sure she didn’t dress you in an unflattering way.”
I tilted my head in thought, almost as a reflex, and it caught his attention.
“What are you thinking about, (Y/N)?” Jaskier asked me quietly with a crooked smile.
“I seem to be thinking about everything and nothing at once...but I am mostly wondering how you convinced the people hosting this ball to let me in. Geralt is your security, of course, I get that. But how did you get me in? I’m no one special.”
He was silent for a moment and stared at a spot past me, for almost so long I didn’t think he would reply. But then he did, with an odd look on his face that showed happiness and some other emotion I didn’t recognize.
“I told them you were my muse. A musician cannot perform without their muse.”
My mouth twitched as if to fall open in shock. but I didn’t let it. I didn’t want him to see how this affected me.
“I’m your what?”
“My muse. You know, inspiration?”
I shook my head furiously, matching the speed at which my heart was beating.
“I know what it means. But why did you tell them that? You couldn’t have come up with a better excuse to get me in here? You didn’t have to lie to them.”
You couldn’t have come up with a better excuse in order to keep me from getting my hopes up?
He looked at me with a smile. But it was a pained smile. Then for a second, it looked like he might speak. Until Geralt passed by the open door way and told Jaskier it was time to go. The crowd was waiting on him.
I stood frozen in the same spot I had been in, and I watched them leave. First Geralt, then Jaskier following behind him. At the last second before leaving the doorway, he stopped, placing a hand on the frame.
Finally he turned to me, and looking over his shoulder, he simply said:
“I didn’t lie.”
#Jaskier#jaskier x reader#jaskier fluff#jaskier angst#julian alfred pankratz#witcher#the witcher#geralt#geralt of rivia#roach#yennefer#yennefer of vengerberg#angst#fluff#smut#series#chapter#part#writing#fanfic#fanfiction#fic#ficlet#blurb#oneshot#x reader#reader insert#insert#imagine#scenario
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Tranquility
A/n about time i wrote something for my privateer,, my love, Nikolai Lantsov
Summary: You and Nikolai are masters of being a couple without actually dating, and the only thing threatening that is the way Nikolai gets after having a nightmare.
--
Tranquility. So rare for a world on the cusp of war. I guess that’s what the difference between a world at war and a world only boarding on it, the occasional glimmers of goodness, peace. I shift cautiously, careful to not disturb Nikolai. He is tranquility, especially in the few moments in which he allows himself to rest. Not long ago, I found his trips to my bed in the middle of the night strange. But now I only think of the oddness of it when I can’t fall asleep and I find myself enjoying the peaceful lull of his even breaths more than I should. I think a lot of things we do are more indulgent than they should be.
Nikolai only comes to visit me when the bags under his eyes become noticeable and his humor falls flatter than normal. I tell myself he takes my comfort because he trusts me to some extent and I give it to him willingly when he seeks it. I’m not fully innocent. I take his peace, his touch and warm sentiments, when they are offered to me. But now I’m bordering on something else. Something much more devastating.
This isn’t something I can afford to think about, to weigh on. Not now when war is on its way and Nikolai already has so much to worry about. Perhaps I’ll mention this to Alina and she’ll manage to give me some type of perspective, but that isn’t something I should do now. When the world has ended or is made safe, then I will sort through the significance of the way my heart stalls or speeds up for him and him alone.
I should just try to fall asleep again. If I do, when I wake up again Nikolai will either already be gone because of his duties or he’ll make some kind of joke about how fortunate I am to wake up to such a sight before trying to coax me back to bed. I shouldn’t want that.
Ugh. He’s so pretty, I hate it. It’s unfair--one cannot expect someone to have someone like Nikolai dote on them, playfully or otherwise, and not catch some type of connection. Even in sleep, with his golden hair disheveled, parted lips, and fluttering eyelids he’s unfairly attractive. I sigh, the irony of the situation twisting my stomach--if he knew my thoughts his ego would bask in them.
As if he can feel my conflict, his defined eyebrows draw together, his placid expression turning harsh. I tense, watching as that look only hardens. Is he...okay? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had some kind of nightmare. Nikolai’s lips press together, and then he makes a noise. A sad, discomforted sigh.
The remnants of my drowsiness disappear at that. I place a hand on his shoulder thoughtlessly, shaking him once. “Nikolai.” I keep my voice low and soft. His expression stays hard, “Wake up, it’s not…” He lets out another broken sound. I shake him a little more determinedly. “It’s not real.”
Nikolai’s eyelids flutter once more, and he’s pushing himself upwards, sitting up and breathing harshly. My hand falls off his shoulder, but I think it’s better this way. He needs space to realize that he’s safe.
Taking two shallow breaths, Nikolai turns his head. I watch him carefully, resisting the instinctual urge to help him, to comfort him and chase away the darkness that wants to engulf him.
“Y/n?” His voice is so fragile a part of me doesn’t recognize it as his.
I nod my head once, folding my hands in my lap to avoid reaching for him. “You’re okay. It was just a dream.”
His gaze flits from my face to the ruffled blankets draped over me. He’s silent and still. Two things he should never be for a long period of time. Nikolai shifts slowly, as if still trapped in a daze. I let his hand take mine from my lap and pull it towards him. He squeezes my hand once, bringing my knuckles to his lips. I inhale sharply as he exhales, warm breath burning my skin. And then his lips brush against each knuckle. I let him, fighting not to let myself be reduced to a puddle.
Nikolai lifts my hand, coaxing my palm open before placing it on his cheek. I brush my thumb down his cheek. He lets out a breath, the sound is soft yet it leaves my heart raw.
I don’t say anything as he moves his hand down my arm, fingertips leaving my skin electrically charged as he always does. He pauses once his hand is on my shoulder. I let him grip me harder than I normally would. It feels like I am an anchor, weighing him in place so that the dark cannot take him away from me.
My lips part, but I have no words to offer him, not when I don’t know the extent of his torment. Nikolai’s hand brushes past the sleeve of my nightgown and across my collarbone. I swallow once, dropping my gaze to avoid the sharpness of the look he’s giving me.
“You’re heavy sometimes,” I keep my voice low, “I wish I could--”
“You do,” his voice leaves no room for argument. The tone is filled with a tension that he has never used on me. “You do everything.”
“And you are everything.” His expression softens at my words. It feels like a reward in a way.
Nikolai moves forward, the bed makes a noise as he rustles the sheet. I don’t bother asking what he’s doing. He’s always touchier than usual after a nightmare, breaking even more social rules than normal. I let him place his head in the crook of my neck while ignoring the warmth that pushes itself into my chest as he adjusts himself against me. I hesitate before placing my hand on his back even though I know he’d never reject me. He lets out a breath at the additional contact, adjusting himself so that he’s even more against me. I move my hand up and down his back.
The urge to ask him about what his dreams are about bubbles in my chest, but I ignore it. If he wanted to speak about it, he would.
“Things are easier with you.” His voice is so delicate it’s almost hard to bear. His hand presses into my side and my breathing stiffens as a result.“I’m glad you’re here.”
I meet his gaze as he tilts his head upwards. “Of course I am, how could I ever resist someone as wonderful as you?”
The corner of Nikolai’s lips tug upwards, a sign that he appreciates my attempt at humor. “You’re not wrong, darling.” I roll my eyes as he grins, ignoring the way my stomach tightens as he presses his face into my shoulder to hide his amusement. “You’re the wonderful one.”
I smile slightly, sarcastic retort dying in the back of my throat as something in Nikolai shifts. His eyes have taken on a simple, dark quality. I’ve seen this tension in him before, but I’ve never understood it. Nikolai tilts his head slightly, regarding me with more intensity than I know how to deal with. He shifts closer until I can feel his breath on the edge of my jaw. And then I feel his lips brush against skin. Testing, cautious. I don’t move. He must take this as a good sign because he then presses his lips further up my jaw. Again and again, always gentle, always fragile--always more welcomed than it should be.
I close my eyes, indulging in the feel of his touch, and then I feel him touch my cheek. The contact is feather light as my eyes flutter open. He’s close in a different way now, lips two centimeters away from mine.
This means nothing to him, this is nothing to him. It is just a way to push through pain he refuses to share with me. “Nikolai.” It’s meant to be a warning, but it comes out as a breathy sigh. “Nikolai…” A little stronger, he pauses, face a centimeter from my face.
“Y/n.” My name is soft grace on his lips.
My eyes shut. “You can’t--you can’t kiss me just because you need to be distracted.”
His eyebrows draw together and then he straightens. The distance between us leaves me colder than before. “Do you really think that?”
I press my lips together. “We should just go back to sleep--”
“Y/n,” he sighs once, “Is that what you think?”
I stare at the blankets, gripping the fabric. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.” His voice is hard, losing all touches of irony. “It matters.” I stay silent, avoiding Nikolai’s gaze. “Out of all the reasons I want to kiss you, being distracted isn’t even on the list.”
My head snaps in his direction. What is he implying? “What?”
“Y/n,” his hand is on my arm, warm and tempting, “I want to kiss you because when you smile it feels like all the bad goes away. I want to kiss you because you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking and then that’s the only thing I can think about. I want to kiss you for the same reason I come to your room whenever I want to rest. You’re my tranquility.” My eyes soften at his words, my mind racing at the implications of them. “You’re biting your lip again, darling, and it’s torture.”
On instinct, my lips part slightly. He doesn’t move closer or farther away. I exhale slowly, trying to push away the electric current the potential of this moment is stirring. Nikolai’s hand moves up my arm and settles on my cheek.
His thumb brushes against my cheek, making me melt. “I want to kiss you because when I’m with you all of the bad, all of the uncertainty disappears.”
Nikolai leans forward slightly, breath warm near my skin. “Is that all?”
If his touch wasn’t so enticing I’d roll my eyes at such a blatant attempt to get a compliment. But his touch is all consuming, especially when he moves to run his thumb across my bottom lip. “No--you’re also ridiculously enticing, but something tells me you don’t need me to add to your ego.”
He grins, shifting impossibly closer before finally letting his lips meet mine. The contact is everything I’ve ever needed, his lips warm and inviting and eager. I kiss him back easily, melting into him like that’s where I’ve always belonged. Nikolai pulls away slowly, drawing out the kiss and letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.
“For the record, you’re the only ego boost I need.” He smiles lazily, hand not leaving my cheek. “You’re my peace, y/n,” he exhales flatly, “Please remember that.”
There’s something strangely sleepy yet revered about his tone. “Of course I will,” I hum, letting him rest his head against my chest, “You’re my peace, too.”
“Sometimes when I dream I see you and then I lose you.” Nikolai’s tone leaves my heart sore as he adjusts against me.
“You’re not losing me,” I whisper, eyes fluttering shut. “Ever.” He exhales gently. “Get some sleep--you never get enough rest.”
He squeezes me once, pressing a quick kiss to my collar. “Whatever you want.”
I half roll my eyes, too tired to to call him out on his teasing, the lull of sleep strengthened only by the weight of him against my chest.
--
general tag list: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov x reader#shadow and bone#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone x you#shadow and bone netflix#shadow and bone show#grishaverse#grishaverse x reader#grishaverse imagine#grisha#grishaverse x you#my works#six of crows imagine#grishaverse imagines
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Office Wars

Pairings: fem!reader x Jaemin
Theme: Fluff, Mild Jealousy, playful arguments, light crack, humour, protective.
Word count:2.2k
Gist: You were always at each others throats at work and everyone knew that and was used to that but maybe there was more than just the arguments on the surface.
"Ms. Y/l/n you're typing too loudly" Na Jaemin said with his infamous smirk plastered on his face.
A collective sigh was heard across the office. Your colleagues were all used to the usual banter that took place between you and Jaemin, easily being able to tune the noise that followed.
You however found it particularly difficult to avoid the banter when Jaemin picked at you for the most ridiculous of things.
"Oh I'm sorry Supervisor Na I didn't realise your hearing aid was on" You replied, the snark to your tone didn't go unnoticed as Jaemin scoffed but you couldn't be bothered to look away from your work.
"I don't need hearing aid to hear your keyboard being murdered, the poor thing has to recieve the brunt of your anger caused by Writer Kim"
You slammed your hands onto your table and angrily spun your swirling chair in the direction in which Na Jaemin sat.
Your anger doubled as you saw him proudly smirking from his position, knowing you just gave into his taunts but you couldn't care enough since he was the one that made the low blow.
"Don't you ever get tired idoling around and causing your co-workers headaches?" You said to the smug looking boy before getting on your feet and waking to the pantry.
Jaemin smiled as he watched you dissapeare behind the wall that separates the office and the pantry.
You made two cups of coffee, calming yourself before you walked out placing one on Jaemins table and carried the other to yours and got back to your work. At this point the office was slightly accustomed to your dynamics but it still baffled them. No one understood how the two of you worked, one minute you were at eachother throats the next second you were on the same team. And they didn't even try to understand, they just went along with it.
Like right now,
"You're going to be late for the briefing if you don't hurry your pretty little fingers up" you mocked, the cheeky grin plastered on your face clearly showed how amused you were by the fact that Na Jaemin had FORGOTTEN to prepare for today's briefing as your teams supervisors in this small publishing company.
The furiously typying man let go of his lip that was trapped between his teeth to grind them together, eyes wavering for a second to glare at you before focusing on his task at hand.
You cheerily walked away, a skip in your step as you reached the meeting room waiting for your supervisor and CEO to enter, happily chattering with your colleague Joy about the small queer owned business the two of you came across on instagram because of this month.
Soon the CEO stepped in and the room fell quite, Jaemin was still not on his seat but a minute later he walked in apologising for the delay.
A rather short and surprisingly sucessful briefing later you walked back to your desk to finish of what little work you had left before you streched, slightly pushing your chair away from your desk.
"Ready to go y/n?" Joy asked coming upto you and you grinned at her, nodding.
"Don't waste time then c'mon" you heard the annoying voice of Na Jaemin say from behind you and then saw the man in question walk past you. You glared holes into his back and Joy chuckled.
You and Joy continued to chater as you made your way to the restaurant your team always eats at, to find that your entire team was already sitting there.
"I ordered what you asked me to" Your colleague Suho said to Joy who thanked him.
You took your seat inbetween Crystal and Yangyang, which also happened to be directly opposite Jaemin.
"I ordered (insert dosh of your choice) for you" Jaemin told you and the two of your stared at eachother for a few seconds and then you smiled at him thanking him.
Everyone let out a breath they didn't know they were holding at that, expecting you to get mad at him for ordering for you without you asking him to.
The wait for the food to arrive was peaceful, except for the few snark remarks you and Jaemin exchanged but it wasn't something that people weren't used to.
Upon the arrival of your food your eyes lit up. Ever since you were a kid you loved to eat, in fact you were the biggest foodie in your family.
You excitedly picked up your chop sticks ready to dig in before a voice interrupted you.
"Your food isn't going anywhere slow down or you'll burn your tongue." Jaemin said nonchalantly and you ignored him poking out your tongue at him and immediately digging in for a big bite.
As soon as the food touched your tongue you're eyes widened at the sharp sensation caused by the heat immediately dropping the serving back onto your plate as you started to pant like a dog because of the heat.
Yangyang who was next to you noticed, placing a hand on your shoulder and picking up your glass of water with his other hand.
"Careful Y/n" he warend rather uselessly after the deed was done, bringing the cup of water to your lips so that you could wash down the heat with the cooling water.
You drank the water, hands reaching out the hold the cup on your own. Once the burning sensation cooled down, you turned to Yangyang offering him a smile while thanking him.
You're attention then turned to Jaemin who sat infront of you glaring at no one in particular, expecting him to be looking smug.
You shrugged at the change in attitude as you continued your mean, this time blowing on your food before you took a bite.
Not even fifteen minutes later you felt a kick on you shin and then looked up to see Jaemin leaving, you sighed rolled your eyes and finished the food on your plate as fast as you could before dashing out back to the office. No you didn't forget to pay, the meals were handeled by the company.
You reached the office only to find Jaemin sitting on his seat pouting angrily as he typed away. You chuckled, deciding to not indulge him as you walked back to your seat and got on with your work and ignored the way Jaemin looked at you even poutier than before.
Ignoring him was a bad choice since after that he got even more annoying, dropping more files on your desk for you to deal with, making random comments about your corrections, complaining about anything and everything and you just ignored the fussy manchild with an eye roll.
"Y/n we have to go for the mandatory company diner now." Joy said to you and you looked out the window at the end of the office to see the sky becoming a dark orange hue, it was late evening.
"I still have so much to do" you whined, letting your head fall onto your desk with a thud and Joy winced, not knowing what to say.
"Stop whining y/n and just come back and get it done. I have work to do to so I can walk with you back to the office after dinner." Jaemin said walking upto your desk.
You lifted your head sligtly to look at the tall male who was looking at you, waiting for a reply to his question and you sighed head falling between your arms again.
"We have to leave now we don't have forever y/n make a choice" Jaemin said impatiently tapping his foot on the floor.
"Okay let's go!" You said suddenly jumping up and marching towards the exit. Jaemin chuckled and Joy looked at you as if you had grown two heads but then the two of them immediately followed behind you.
The company diner was uneventful. Mr. Choi on of your clients was making what he though to be flirtatious eyes at you again but you only saw it as creepy. But you were still able to enjoy you meal, sitting between Jaemin and Joy, happily chattering away.
After everyone was done eating you knew you couldn't stay to chat and you lifted you phone off the table checking the time and signalling Jaemin who nodded and the two of you bid your goodbyes.
"I can walk you if you want y/n-shi" a rosy cheek and very drunk Mr.Choi said and you gagged.
"It's Ms.y/l/n to you Mr.Choi and there's no need I'm walking her there, making sure our employee feels safe by making sure you're not around them." Jaemin said, eyes glaring daggers and the now offended drunk man.
"You" Mr.Choi yelled pointing his finger and an unimpressed Jaemin "How dare you talk to me like that! Don't you know how important I am to this company" the angry drunk man yelled.
"Mr Choil please stay professional because it isn't that hard to find good writers, especially on to replace you." Your CEO spoke up and you had to hold back a chuckle at Mr.Chois flustered face as his mouth opened and closed not able to form any words.
"If that all we'll be taking out leave." Jaemin said grabbing onto you hand and bowing at your CEO who nodded and quickly dragged you away. You quickly bowed in respects to you CEO too before you were dragged away by Jaemin.
"I felt like punching him" Jaemin said on your walk to the office, hand still holding yours.
"Me too" you chuckled at the fuming male as you walked the rest of the way in silence, hand in hand.
You immediately rushed to you desk upon reaching your office and started typing away and Jaemin lazily strolled to his seat, doing whatever he had to do.
Half an hour later and all you had to do was send out two mails and save the document you were working on, so you let yourself relax alittle slumping back onto your chair. You peaked at what jaemin was doing and smiled. "That's a good score, must have been alot of WORK" you teased and Jaemin looked embarrassed at getting caught.
"I-i was bored okay" he said avoiding your gaze and you smiled.
"Okay"
You crossed one leg over the other, leaning over your desk to send the last two e-mails and save the document you were busy correcting.
Just as you finished with your work and sat up straight Jaemin spoke "You know when a person sits with crossed legs and their legs are pointing towards you that means they like you" he said pointing at your position and you looked down to see your leg was indeed pointing at him.
"That means you like me y/n." Jaemin said cheekily wiggling his eyebrows.
And you looked at him eyes screwed as if you were judging his entire existence, which you were "Jaemin" he hummed in reply still grining, "We're engaged it would be really weird if I didn't like you" You said and Jaemins grin grew even wider and you sighed chuckling at your happy fiance.
"Yea it would be weird" he said sliding his chair towards you, crashing into you slightly and you steadied him.
"Ahh your so cute my y/n" he said pulling you into his arms and plukering his his lips trying to kiss you but you leaned away from him just to annoy him.
"Don't avoid my kisses" he huffed pouting as he tried again but you teased him again avoiding him.
"Yah! You brat give me a kiss!" he yelled and you chuckled turning you head to give him a small peck on his nose but he had other plans immediately moving his face and his lips met yours in a sweet kiss in which you felt yourself melting into. Kissing Jaemin was always calming and he always tasted sweet even thought he drank that disgustingly bitter coffee.
You slowly felt his hands snake behind your head pulling you closer lips moving in sync as he deepend the kiss, your breaths mingled as both of you felt lightweight. You got lost in eachother for a second before you slowly pulled away resting your forehead against his. He smiled at you eyes sparkling in the dim lit room.
"If someone walked in on us right now they'd have a heart attack" Jaemin joked and you chuckled. It was an unspoken rule between the two of you to keep your relationship a secret in the office and you did that by bickering. "We should tell them now though shouldn't we?" You asked and Jaemin pecked you cheek sitting up staright, "Yea and hand them the wedding invites" and you grinned, heat rushing to your cheeks, you never got used to the fact that you were to get married to Na Jaemin, your soulmate.
Needless to say when the two of you told everyone at the office the next day you were pretty sure some of them were this close to having a heart attack. But most of them Congratulated you as you stood hand in hand with Jaemin, grinning like an idiot.
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