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corollaservant · 1 day

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Introspect // Dabi x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: The past never dies. But it can often be forgotten. (3.4k)

Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, captivity, stalking, violence, noncon/at best dubcon smut, jealousy, delusion, denial, implied PTSD, deterministic and nihilistic philosophical paradigm, Dabi's POV—stream of consciousness type fic

A/N: wrote this in 3hrs. majorly inspired by (and dedicated to) my fave tumblr writer, new magic wand by tyler the creator and this dabi art 🖤

Happy. You looked happy, that’s what he thought when he saw it.

Not in a way you’d been with him anyway. He didn’t know whether that was for the better. The first thing he thought was you posted him. Of course you would. He was not patched, burnt or looking like someone who escaped the psychiatric ward. Without proper clothing, jumping out of a window, frantically running towards the opposite direction. Was it a matter of appearance? Or did you just not like him enough? He wouldn’t know, you hadn’t spoken in a month. And some days. That’s when you told him you needed space. Seriously, people needed to come up with better excuses, this one was over-saturated. Was it bad he clung onto you? It’s not like you had many friends, all he had asked was more of your time. Your stupid job wasn’t even that important—he never bothered finding out what you did exactly, it’s not like he didn’t care, he just wanted you there. The rest of your whereabouts were none of his business as long as you were not conversing (excessively) with anyone else. Because even then, why would you need to do that? He could do it for you.

He had no actual job, well, classifying as a villain doesn’t get you far in life, he called himself a freelancer. Freelancer in murder and theft, maybe. But he felt like he had a share in serving divine justice. A modern vigilante so to say. Any accidental death was a misfortune, a predetermined fate. He didn’t want to pretend to be integrated in society for you to like him, he was lucky because he didn’t have to. Which then reminded him of how he met you.

Petting strays at night wasn’t careful of you, especially with the crime rates in the city. But you had done so regardless, he remembers it vividly: You in an alley, on your knees, not caring about the dirt coming in direct contact, extending your hand. The cat was barely visible, he could only make out its yellow eyes. But then, the cat saw him, he knew cats had brilliant vision and it left you, perhaps in thought he had food you didn’t. You turned your head only to take a step back. Not smart, you landed on your ass as you opened your mouth. Did he scare you? Of course, what a stupid thing to ask. Under other circumstances he’d leave. Making fun of strangers wasn’t really his thing, not unless they deserved it, but the cat seemed to take a liking to him. Animals loved him, his mom used to tell him not to trust people who repelled them, it was a bad sign. Animals had instinct, animals could tell. He decided to pet the little guy (or girl?), as he kneeled down and softly touched its head. That was another thing about cats. They didn’t give a fuck about the staples or burnt odor, they just wanted food and the occasional touch. He liked cats. He could see himself in them. Something in the domesticity of the situation must've calmed you down because you fixed your posture and to his surprise approached him. It was still dark, you were still a woman and alone in an alley.

‘’He likes you.’’ You told him. Had you already figured out it was a male stray? Dabi must’ve underestimated you. Your voice hid a whine, a soft protest but it was not annoyance and he shifted his gaze.

‘’Yeah.’’ was all he said.

‘’Can I?’’ You asked. Why were you asking for permission, this wasn’t even his cat.

‘’Sure.’’

You were so close, trying not to scare the cat and also touch him, he noticed. Your finger tried to avoid his but the cat’s head was unfortunately not that big so you eventually grazed a digit over him. You hadn’t flinched back then, hadn’t even scrunched your nose, were you not afraid? Didn’t the smell and appearance repel you? Apparently not, you seemed so invested in getting the cat to like you. It wasn’t like it didn’t. The stray ended up loving you, purring at your touch and looking in your eyes, like a man in love. And maybe it wasn’t just the cat.

Within three days of your first encounter he had you on his chest, in your apartment of course, where else could he have you? He wanted to fuck you the first time he saw you, but the urge wasn’t that violent, which had taken him by suprise. You also did not seem like the type to give it up easily. He’d have to do some mental jumping jacks to get you, he didn’t worry about revealing too much though; he didn't have a lot to say, his old identity long buried away with his sensitivity. He still didn’t feel like hurting you. The first night he told you his name, Dabi, and it was so convincing, he too had believed it. You exchanged trivial information neither cared about and he offered company on your way back. He scolded you for being alone in the neighborhood, like some good samaritan, he laughed as he guided you through dimly lit alleys with zero traffic.

‘’Want to come inside?’’ You had asked. Already? Were you that easy? But who was he to say no?

Your place was small, as expected, neat and tidy, with a few clothes on the bed, nothing bad. It smelled nice too, he noticed a small plant on the coffee table. How gullible to let him in like that. Dabi imagined how many times you must’ve been wronged in life. But you being you—it was probably something that flew over your head daily. You’d call it compromise, he’d call it stupidity.

He had fucked you in missionary that night, a true gentleman, easing his way inside and slightly towering, making sure the stapled skin under his sternum didn’t touch your sensitive one. You were soaking by the time you stopped making out and he slid a finger inside, warm and enticing, his cock hardened in primal ways. He had softly thrown you on your bed (his definition of soft wasn’t exactly soft, you had let out a groan, was it bad?) and climbed on top. You were looking at him expectantly, your eyes glassy, was that pain or excitement, Dabi would bet bucks on the latter. The way you had shyly parted your legs, not for his cock, but to fit him in between was sickeningly pretty, he could swear he was almost…nervous to slip his cock inside. And he was right, trying to fit it inside failed him two or three times while he pretended to toy your clit with his cockhead. You didn’t seem to mind, his act must’ve been convincing, you were softly moaning and your eyes dared to look at the sight of his swollen tip against your lower lips, was it pretty? He had fucked you as hard as he would allow himself—your body could take it, he had to be honest, the more he stuffed you, the more he needed to drive his cock further into your soft walls, there was no room for play pretend romance here. But you seemed to like it too, wrapping your arms around the bare part of his back, fingers accidentally trailing the stapled skin and groaning near his face. ‘’Fuck.. right there.. D-Dabi! More!’’ More? Sure, you could have more. A patched arm strongly pinned a leg above your head, touching the bed frame, as his stiff and pained cock violated your cunt, he could feel how deep he was and constantly fought the urge to spill already. As for you? Tears from your eyes fell down your now stained sheets as you screamed. Pleasure, pain, honestly he didn’t care much about what it was, your pussy clamping down on him the last thing he felt before he bit down your neck, almost ripping out the skin tissue. His cum slowly trickled out, while both of you panted, each exhale synchronizing with the clock ticking in the kitchen.

There were no voids you could fill, he knew it, interacting with others proved to be a daily reminder. But there were voids you soothed, pain you healed just with your head resting where a heart used to be. Heart beating irregularly, like his feet in his childhood, with excitement, with a different type of eagerness. These weren’t thoughts he made that night and that’s how he knew he liked you. That night his mind was blank for the very first time, carefree from reality, from the ugliness of living—you had sex with some stained villain, who hadn’t only stained your cunt, but your sheets too, your morals indirectly and heart along the way. These thoughts came to him when he saw the photo. Space. You said you needed space. There wasn’t any relationship established, what the fuck you needed space for? Because now, he had found something to give waking up a reason. Someone to regularly satisfy his cock with, someone to take away his thoughts and halt his aimless wandering. And you needed space. How lame. You know what? He could give you space. Indirectly of course. He’d still follow you around, check the whereabouts and conversations, sit outside your house and watch you get undressed. But you looked happy. And he couldn’t decipher in what way. Was he a friend? Who gives a fuck about the guy anyway, why were you smiling like that? You never posted him, that's for sure, you knew in the three months of irregular hanging out (to call it dating would be a joke) that he hated it. And so you never did, even though he wanted you to deep down. Something small. A grocery store visit, one you made when he said he’d cook dinner (he had burnt it). But you never did and now here you are posting with someone irrelevant.

Murder wasn’t the answer. Stupidly enough it was always associated with morality. But you’d think Dabi would have none of that. He thought murder was stupid. No second of his time ought to be wasted for the next guy. Though he had to admit, he often contemplated whether you’d want this. You didn’t know shit about him. But a sudden murder would definitely have you crawling for protection. And who better than the one who committed it? He honestly wouldn’t go out of his way to do all that. He wanted you organically. It had been a long time since he wanted someone. But you sufficed. You were enough. You never asked, never complained, not even when you’d come home from work, exhausted and dirty and he was waiting at your door. Not even when you were shoved against the cupboards and fucked without remorse—you still wrapped your legs around him and whimpered on his neck. And fuck if that didn’t feel good. He hugged you in your sleep. You’d both sleep in opposite directions, you first of course, so you’d never notice he switched sides and brought a leg over yours, resting his head on your throat, feeling each breath, each pulse. You’d wake up confused at the position, he’d say he didn’t remember. These were the few nights he could reach REM state. No vivid dreams of course, a shipwreck maybe and some elevator descending, lack of control or whatever bullshit he read once. He could still dream though, a miserable reminder he was still human.

He was always mean. The world didn’t care to mold someone into being nice. What would that even be? He thought nice meant exchange. Be nice and you’d get a pair of shoes. Act nice and you’ll get to watch TV. Treat others with respect and you’d be the family’s topic of discussion over Christmas. Sure, there were selfless people, he wasn’t crazy to think there weren’t a few of them left. You’d be his prime example. And you weren’t even stupid. But your willingness to help and give bordered exploitation. It hit him like lightning. You needed to get away, the real world was doing damage to people like you. If you were with him, you wouldn't have to think twice about being taken advantage of. He’d still be mean, you wouldn’t change that. But at least you’d sleep assured knowing that he’d never, ever demand something from you. Well…besides your presence, though he’d take you as you are, so in retrospect you’d come to appreciate him for the service.

When he came to pick you up (abduct sounded rough—you’d also want this eventually) you had just finished work. To others you seemed fine, to him you looked exhausted. No need for mask, no need for clothes, he had everything arranged. You hadn’t objected much, he tried the kind approach first, he had only asked you to go for a ride with him in a car he stole, something you’d never know. The place was a dump, a couch covered in dust and a rusty kitchen, but you’d both make it work. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find money. He would, eventually. He remembers the way your eyes widened, what were you expecting, a trip to the countryside for some mimosas? You should’ve known better. ‘’What are we doing here?’’ You had asked, looking him in the eyes, you seemed frightened like the first time you saw him in the alley, it all ends in the beginning of the cycle, such a paradox, he thought. ‘’This is our new place.’’ He cooed as he approached you, you took a step back. There really was no reason for you to be scared, you’d grow to understand the only thing scaring you would be losing him.

He had tried to kiss you but you protested, pushing him away, a shame really and he wanted to continue with the nice approach. Well, then again nice didn’t really exist so it wouldn't have worked anyway. He kissed you, your mouth was closed but not for long before it was forced open, arms snaking around your waist and pinning you to a wall collecting condensation since god knows when. He was on your neck, kissing, biting, frenzied moves really, he needed you more than he needed whatever kept him alive. Three months ago, he stopped thinking. Now, the only thing he thought was you. He dragged you to the dusty sofa, he thought of using his quirk to burn the fabric, but ripping it out came naturally. You were laid out naked and shivering, his hands grabbed your waist—was this warm enough for you? You whispered something, maybe it was louder than a whisper, stop or whatever but he couldn’t listen. He found your cunt immediately, he was almost drooling at the sight, when was he that hungry ever again? Something about your life. People behind. You said something, he didn’t listen. You weren’t that wet like the first time, he understood. Women, they need emotional connection. Maybe a sloppier kiss to get them going. He found your mouth again, forcing you to kiss him back while he gorged on yours, a small movement in your hips, a pad of his finger back on your cunt. Wetter, perfect. He slid up a finger, curling it while his thumb grazed over your clit, you whimpered. That was a sound he could finally register. He’d bring back that smile, but it’d be for him only. One finger turned to two and eventually three, he needed to stretch you out to take him, nothing had changed since the first time, just his eagerness. His cock throbbed in his black pants, he wanted to taste you.

You moaned and attempted to touch his hair. He didn’t mind but this wasn’t the time. He moved his head lower, spreading your thighs open and spitting on your clit. Spittle dripped down your slit and his index finger trailed it along the entrance, earning him a moan. See, you already enjoyed this too much. This would be your life now on, he’d fuck you till you wouldn’t want another thing. Captivity had a good side after all. He’d treat you so well, he wouldn’t even have to force all that domestic bullshit on you. You’d do it willingly. He eats your cunt out like it's the most sacred meal, sloppily and without coordination, pushing his tongue inside and gripping your thighs forcefully and what is this? You buck your hips up, wanting more, needy little slut. Perfect, so perfect for making him stop thinking. Making him forget. His cock must leak precum, it feels uncomfortable and he wants you to coat his tongue, he really does, but please understand, he needs you. Now. To bother removing his pants fully would be hilarious, he has neither time nor desire to do so, they’re slid down half way, his cock jumps on his abdomen and he gives it an impatient stroke—looking at you always. Let me go. You say, what? Were you stupid? Right before the best part? Right before the start of a new life? Of a life you should be living years ago? Delusional, you’re delusional. ‘’You love me, baby.’’ He tells you and lets his cockhead slip in your entrance, bit by bit until he’s bottomed out and you wince, he doesn’t move just for a second, this should be enough and then starts thrusting without consideration. Like it’s an incentive, like you’re a hole that needs filling, a mere means to an end. You protest a bit more, if you get louder he might have to get violent on you, please understand he doesn’t want this. You’ll get it, eventually. He can’t decipher the look on your face, it certainly doesn’t scream happy like in the photo.

And then he’s reminded of the photo and a rage is born. ‘’Did he fuck you this well?’’ He spears his cock inside, you are hitting against the arm of the couch, your mouth contracts and you dampen his cock, so he must be doing something right. ‘’Tell me, did he fuck this cunt?’’ He asks and you just moan—are you dumb? Why aren’t you answering? His arms envelop the throat, pressing on the carotid artery as your muffled moans get even more constricted, he spits on your face and demands an answer. Dirty. Slut. Dirty. ‘’N-o’’ comes out your mouth. He hadn’t tainted you? He hadn’t touched you. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He wipes the saliva off your cheeks, it’s so...wet? Are you crying? Why are you crying? He hates it. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He kisses you while he plunges deeper, you groan and try to avoid him, stop doing this, you’re his now, it’s final. ‘’I’ll make you feel better, alright?’’ He breathes out, he knows you like his fingers, he knows. His thumb circles achingly, longingly even on your puffy clit while you clench around him, your breathing is labored, you have to cum—cum now! On his cock, show him how much you love him. A few more strokes and he has you clamping down, more tears, so many tears and you moan out his fake name, with anger maybe or an orgasm high, he can’t tell and he doesn’t care either, it’s enough. He needs to steal a kiss one last time and feel the way you squeeze and soak all around to let his load paint you white, maybe he is like a woman after all, longing for emotion, even when he has to fulfill plain instincts. You don’t talk after it, you don’t even blink, you aren’t passed out, are you? He wasn’t that hard, come on now. He has to remove himself, clean you up, the couch and he the least of his priorities. You need to get accustomed. You’ll love it.

You never ask. About the photo. About your family. About anything prior. But that’s not something he dwells upon, he doesn’t like to look back. You still sleep next to him, well, there aren’t many other options available, yet you do. You still breathe softly in your sleep, he still hugs you from behind. You’ve become a sedative, a very much needed one. He dreams some days, an elevator falling, a shipwreck. Only, you’re there this time.

The few days he remembers the dream, he appreciates the company. He can only hope you do, too.

#yandere mha #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #mha x reader #yandere touya x reader #dark content #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #touya todoroki #todoroki touya x reader #dabi #bnha x reader #yandere x reader #mha smut #tw noncon #tw delusion #tw violence

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thedeathdeelers · 2 days

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a quick silly drabble for @saltedsan based on this post

otter (on ao3)

“So, Sol-a,” Sunjae starts as he looks up from the script in his hands. “What do you think about dogs?”

Sol, who was snuggled into his side on the sofa, answers absent-mindedly with her eyes still glued to the TV.

“Dogs?”

Sunjae gently nudges her to get her full attention. “Yes, Dogs. A dog. A puppy.”

“Um,” she starts, before finally turning to look at him. “I..I’ve always liked dogs,” she says, “But my mom was allergic so we could never get one.” She pauses to think before resuming. “But I think I’ve always liked the idea of having a dog more than actually owning a dog, y’know?”

Sunjae stares at her for a moment, waiting to see if she realises her mistake.

But all Sol does is stare up at him expectantly, eyes wide and sweetly innocent.

“I think I’m probably more of a cat person anyway,” she adds, shrugging.

Huh.

continue reading on ao3

Sol grins at him when he doesn’t say anything back, before turning her attention back to the TV.

Sunjae sits quietly for a beat before trying again.

“So then what about Otter?”

Sol, who had already gotten fully immersed in her show again looks up at Sunjae, eyes slightly unfocused.

“Otter? Who’s otter?” she asks.

“You know,” Sunjae waves his hand in front of them before draping it back around her shoulder, tucking her back in under his arm. “Otter, your childhood dog.” Sol’s face doesn’t change, the layer of confusion still very much there.

“The one who loved swimming.”

Sol’s bottom lip twitches.

“The one you compared me to in high school.”

Sunjae can see the moment she remembers, memories flooding in as understanding dawns in her eyes even as she tries very hard to keep a straight face.

“O-o-of course he- he was real,” she finally stutters out, laughing a little too loudly as she tries to scoot away from him. “Why- why would you ask?”

Sunjae stares at her for a long moment, head tilting to the side as Sol squirms under his gaze, eyes looking at anything but him.

She was avoiding his eyes — she knew he knew.

“Sol.”

She doesn’t budge, eyes now fixed on the TV even though he knew she wasn’t registering anything happening on the screen.

“Sol-a,” he tries again, this time in a sing-song tone.

Still nothing — only her fingers nervously fiddling with the frayed edge of her sweater giving her away.

Sunjae smirks, knowing he’s got her.

He turns his body to face her, arms coming down to cage her in — wrapping one arm around her waist from the back while his other rests on her thighs.

He feels her jump slightly at his touch.

Leaning in closer so that they were at the same eye level, Sunjae waits until Sol crumbles under the pressure and turns to look at him, gulping nervously in the process.

“So let me get this straight,” he says, finger tapping against her thigh. “You had me think that I reminded you, the girl I was crazy for, of a dead fictional dog all throughout our last year of high school?”

Sol doesn’t react for a moment, until he sees the tiniest of nods.

“All because you’re terrible at thinking on the spot?”

Sol hesitates, mouth opening as if to defend herself, only to snap it shut at the dubious stare Sunjae was sending her way.

She nods again.

Sunjae doesn’t really know how to react — he’d always suspected she had come up with that story just to dodge any time travelling related information, but there was always a tiny part of young Sunjae that worried he was too ‘puppy-like’ for her to take him seriously.

Sunjae snorts at the thought, almost rolling his eyes at his young self.

They were both just as bad as the other.

He focuses his attention back on Sol, who was still staring at him wide-eyed.

“I swear it was- I only did it to- I wasn’t lying about being a fan!!” She finally gets out with a worried expression on her face as her eyes search his for a sign of..something.

Sunjae relents at the sight of her genuine worry, sighing dramatically as he pulls back.

“Sol, we really need to work on your acting,” he says, shaking his head.

“M-my acting? Why-“

“And we really should discuss your naming skills.”

“I-“

“But for now, we should probably think of a punishment.”

“A- a..a what?” she asks, eyes widening at his words.

Sunjae grins at her, leaning forward as she tries to move away from him, only to pounce on her the second her back hits the sofa cushion.

The first he hears are her giggles, his favourite sound in the world.

And then comes the pleading, his fingers digging into her sides as she breathlessly begs him to relent.

He loved that she was ticklish.

His torturing session doesn’t last long, as he soon takes pity on her, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before sitting back up, pulling her along with him.

He watches her as she tries to catch her breath, her face glowing with rose-tinted cheeks.

Sunjae feels his heart constrict, still unable to believe she was truly his.

He waits until she’s calmed down, fanning herself in an attempt to cool down; waits until she turns around to scold him-

Before ducking back in towards her to give her a quick peck, successfully cutting her off.

“Sunjae-a!” She gets out, a half-hearted scowl on her face as she struggles to keep the smile off her face.

God, he loved her. Terrible acting and all.

Sunjae gets up from the sofa, leaving a confused Sol behind, only to turn around and scoop her up in his arms, the sounds of her surprised laugh filling up the apartment.

“What are you-“

But he doesn’t let her finish her sentence, cutting her off by pressing a kiss to her cheek.

With a wide grin stretching wider across his face by the second, Sunjae walks around the sofa and carries the love of his life towards their bedroom.

It only takes Sol a second to realise where he was taking her, slapping him once on the chest before giving in, her shy and scandalised giggles following them all the way to bed.

#hope this is kinda what you were looking for???#hope you like it!!!#lovely runner #might post this to ao3 but idk #lovely runner fics #soljae #ryu sun jae #im sol #i lost the plot #towards the end but you get it…::

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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 days

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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Part 3 chapter 2- can I kiss you?

Series masterlist

Warnings: bullets, mentions of blood + getting shot, mentions of abuse

“Who are you calling fifty times?” Rafe asked Topper, who set his phone down on the bar. Topper turned to Rafe. “Huh? Who’s not answering?”

“I don’t know, Rafe, uh… does your sister ever do what she says she’s gonna do?”

“Not really, no.”

“Oh.”

“Ah! How’d she screw you this time?” He asked topper, handing him a glass of whiskey.

“So I did your sister a favor, right? Got reamed by my mom, I mean, it’s a shit show, man. So I do this favor, she’s like ‘oh I’ll hit you tonight.’ It’s tonight. Haven’t heard a thing, been calling her. Nothing. She’s just ignoring me. So, I don’t know, man.” He rambled.

“Listen, listen. Let’s sit.” Rafe patted his back, Topper sat down.

“Uh, she’s playing you like a fiddle, bro.”

“No.”

“She’s been playing you since day one.”

“It’s a lot different now.”

“You know why she can’t hit you up right now? It’s cause she’s with John B.”

“Listen, Rafe. She is not with John B.”

“Oh, okay.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, she thinks she’s a pogue now. As soon as they think that, they’re gone, bro. Speaking from experience.” He shrugged.

“Can’t trust a pogue, not that you could trust her anyways. And now she’s with John B and you’re looking at me like I’m the bad guy? She’s gonna keep doing this, again and again and again..” he continued.

Topper stood up, downing the rest of his drink.

“Just playing you like a fiddle.”

“I’ll catch you later, Rafe.”

“All right, Top.” He raised his glass, smirk on his face. He was right, and Topper knew it. “Was good to see you.”

———

Everyone sat down in the Chateau, John B had taken himself to his room, Kiara strummed her ukulele, and you and Sarah played a game of “who’s dad sucked more?”

“My dad faked his death. Like… twice.” Sarah shrugged, taking a sip.

“My dad once made me drink a bottle of beer to calm me down when I was 6 because I threw a temper tantrum when he hit me.” You narrowed your eyes at the girl.

“My dad tried to kill all of my friends, more than once.”

“My dad stole 670 bucks from me on my 15th birthday so he could buy more heroin.”

“I think y/n already wins, by default.” Pope pointed at you, making you smile.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Sarah shook her head with a smile, getting up and going into John B’s room with two bottles.

“I never thought my trauma would ever make me win. This is great. Anyone else wanna play?” You asked.

“Think you beat everyone here.” Cleo said with a laugh, watching you chug the beer can you had and tossing it in the trash.

“I should go play for the nba.” You mumbled to yourself, JJ laughing.

“So, what type of plane is it?” Cleo asked, her and Pope playing mancala on the table.

“Well, it’s wards so im guessing something fancy.”

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout, flying private, baby!”

JJ sat next to Kiara, her movements pausing and her putting her instrument down.

“Hey, kie. You know, that whole entire money clip and dad situation?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, um, that wasn’t that cool, and im kinda beating around the bush a little bit, but, um, I’m…” he looked up, you heard a crackling noise and looked up as well.

“What the fuck?” You mumbled to yourself, standing up and rushing over to the window.

“What is that?” Kiara asked.

“That’s a fire.”

“Everybody get the fuck out!” You shouted at JJ and Kie.

Everyone dispersed, telling the others that were in the rooms.

“There’s a fire!”

“Get outta here, everyone get the fuck out!” You shouted at the teenagers, but before they could, it had reached the door.

You grabbed Sarah hand, getting her away from the door when she went over.

You watched some one pull away from the Chateau amongst the fire, a Range Rover you noted in your head. But you couldn’t worry about that right now. You had to figure out how to get out.

——-

The entire of the Chateau had been burnt to the ground. You all sat on a tree, feeling defeated.

“Could’ve been a faulty electrical wire.”

“Place was all wood.”

“It wasn’t an accident.” You mumbled.

“What?” They turned to you now.

“I.. saw a car pull away from the Chateau when I pulled Sarah away from the door. A Range Rover. It had to be some kook.” You told them.

“And you’re just now telling us this?!” Kiara asked.

“I was the one who got us all out of there alive, so don’t.. give me that bullshit. I was waiting until we were all out, and safe. Fuck.” You hit your head against the tree.

“Verdicts in, bro. Whoever’s up there does not like you.” JJ said, patting John B’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

You sighed, grabbing a glass bottle and throwing it towards the burnt house.

——

“Sarah, when did you say the pilot was getting in?”

“Probably like an hour? I mean, once he’s here, my dad says we can leave whenever we want.”

“Okay, well, as much as I would love to ghost my parents again, I can’t.”

“Pope, we’re talking El dorado here. Can you just like slip out the back maybe?” JJ asked.

“Great advice.” Kie shook her head.

“It always worked for me. How to avoid unpleasant circumstances 101. If there’s a problem and you don’t wanna face it-“

“Turn that face and keister around, and walk the other way.” You rolled your eyes, finishing his sentence, remembering that you had always told him that. Although that never stopped him from getting into his fights.

“I’m not doing that, okay?” Pope told him.

“I just want you to be there, dawg.” JJ sighed.

“I’m gonna be there. I’ll meet you guys in the airstrip in an hour?”

“Yeah, we’ll see you there.”

“One hour, pope. Not a second later.”

“Shit, any of you guys gotta phone I could use? I gotta call in sick, I guess.” You remembered.

“Is that really important right now?” John B asked you.

“Yeah, it is. You know how damn hard it is to get a job recently?”

“There’s probably one up at that gas station across the street.” Sarah nodded in the direction.

“Okay. I’ll be right back, swear.”

“You want me to come with?” JJ asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m good. It’s not that far.” You began to walk off the dock, and towards the gas station.

You rummaged through your pockets for some change, glad that they still had a pay phone outside. “Fuck.” You mumbled, realizing you hadn’t had enough.

You looked around, and you spotted a familiar vehicle parked at one of the pumps.

“Oh my God.” You muttered. This would only happen to you.

Rafe walked out the gas station. You turned around, trying your best to hide yourself. But you heard him chuckle and say something.

“Funny seeing you here, y/n.”

“Rafeeee…” you drawled out, giving him a small smile. “Just the person I wanted to see.” You said sarcastically.

“What are you uh… doing out here..? Awfully far out, aren’t you?”

“Well, actually, my cousin works here and he asked me to bring him something since he’s doing an overnight.”

“Huh. Where’s your car then?”

“That’s none of your damn business, is it?” You snapped.

He held his hands up in defense. “Sorry. Sorry. I’ll get out your hair, but it was nice seeing you.”

“W-wait, Rafe.” You mentally faceplamed at yourself.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. Can I use your phone? I really, really, need to call someone.”

He hesitated, before grabbing his phone out his pocket and unlocking it before handing it to you.

“Thank you..”

You typed in your jobs number, telling both of them you’d be out sick probably for a while, out with a virus.

“A virus, huh?” Rafe asked when you handed it to him again.

You shook your head. “I got shit to do, and I’m not trying to get fired in the process.”

“Makes sense.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against a wall.

It was silent between the both of you before he spoke up again.

“Hey, I’m- I’m sorry if I uh… overstepped last time we talked. I was… drunk, and I… I dunno, I just feel bad about it… if that makes sense.”

Him apologizing was not what you expected. You stared at him, your mouth agape. You looked into his eyes and he seemed sincere.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and he got off the wall, slowly walking towards you. His hands tangled into your hair, and made their way to the back of your head.

He leaned down, until his lips ghosted over yours. Your heart pounded and your eyes searched his.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked you quietly. Your nod was all he needed to move closer, your lips moving against each other.

But this kiss was different than the one in his bedroom, it was gentle, more loving. Your hands were on his chest, and oh god how you missed this.

Once he leaned away from the kiss, he cradled your face in his hands.

“I miss you. And I know I fucked up on the boat, and before that, but I want you to know I’m trying to change.” His thumb stroked your cheek.

“I… I miss you too. But, Rafe… I… I don’t know if it’s the best idea right now.”

“Is this about your brother still?”

“I- Rafe, it’s about everything. I got a lot going on right now.”

His hand fell from your face. “I get it.”

“Rafe-“

“I do, I get it. But all I want is for another chance to make things right. That's all I'm askin’ for.”

You sighed. “I… I have to go somewhere for a while, but when I come back, we can talk, alright?”

He nodded. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” He gave you a small smile.

“Yeah. I’ll see you.” You nodded back. He went close to you again, giving you another quick kiss before pulling away.

You leaned against the wall, sighing in relief when he walked away. You waited until he left the gas station to run back to the dock.

“Shit, sorry.” You panted as you ran up to them all.

“What took you so long?” JJ questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

“I had to ask people for their phones, and not a lotta people are nice I guess.”

“Whatever, I’ll see you guys on the tarmac!” JJ told them, you waving bye to them.

Kiara followed behind, “Hey, Jayj, wait. Hey. Um…”

You looked at them both, you standing there awkwardly. Kiara stared at you expectantly.

“I’m just gonna… yeah.” You snapped your fingers, turning back around and beginning to walk.

———

Rafe’s head swam in his thoughts. His unexpected visit with you resolved one of his problems, but he still had another major one. His dad.

“There’s no going back.”

Rafe paced the room, nervously biting his hands, his leg bouncing when he sat down.

He knew what he had to do. He drove over to where his dad was laying low, going over to his dad, fishing and drinking beer at the river.

“I need you to leave.” He told Ward.

“Oh, yeah? We talked about this already, Rafe.”

“I need you to go live your life in Guadeloupe. And you can let me live mine here.”

“I’m not gonna do that, okay?” Ward turned around, looking out into the water again.

“You realize… hey, you realize what could happen if you stay?”

“What could happen, Rafe?”

“What could happen? The police could find you here. Easy. And then, it’s… it’s done, you’re gone forever. Or something much worse.”

At his son’s words, Ward snapped his head around, standing and looking at him now.

“Much worse.”

“What have you done, son?”

Rafe walked towards him. “It’s not gonna be good if you stay.”

———

You and JJ walked through the house, you looking at the reminders of your dad while JJ shoved his clothes in a bag.

“You good?” He asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” You looked at him, shaking your head and going back into your old room.

You grabbed everything you possibly could, looking around the room. Your whole life, packed into it. It would be gone when you came back.

You came back out, looking at JJ grab things as well. You grabbed your camera, a flashlight and maybe a couple bottles of beer as well.

A car engine outside made both of your heads snap to the window. He looked at you and you looked at him.

“What the hell?” You mumbled, telling him to get away. You looked out the window.

“Oh shit. It’s Mike.” You looked at him.

“Shit. Shit.” JJ mumbled, both of you getting down and hiding.

“JJ! Y/n! It’s your ol’ buddy, Mike. You lost my load. Time to pay up!” He shouted from outside. “All right, we’re gonna do this your way. Hmm?” He grabbed his gun, cocking it.

“I’m coming in, y/n! Yeah, I know you’re in there.” You both leaned against the wall, you motioning for him to go the other way.

Mike opened the door, both of you panicking now.

“We’re gonna do this your way.” He repeated.

JJ ran out the door, grabbing his backpack. You glanced around, where the fuck was yours?

JJ was outside, and he looked around. You were still inside.

It took you a minute to find it, but you grabbed your backpack.

“It’s gonna be a lot easier if you do it now.”

He was getting closer, if you ran out, you risked JJ getting found. And if you didn’t, you risked getting shot.

You didn’t know what to do. Your heart pounded and tears threatened to fall.

A memory flashed in your mind for a second.

“Jayj!” You cried out, watching him get repeatedly punched by another boy on the playground. You didn’t know what to do.

“JJ!” You gasped when the boy was finally pulled off and Jj was left laying on the ground. You cried, tears hitting his body.

JJ had taken those hits for you after he had caught some boy making fun of you.

He had taken those hits for you then, so you would take this one for him. You stood there, just trying to give him enough time to run. You held your breath, as silent as you could possibly be.

Mike found you before you even realize it, and started to fire upon seeing you. You ran outside, hoping to God JJ was already far away.

“Y/n.” He whispered, watching you run into the woods, Mike already had lost you both.

You panted and fell behind a tree, JJ ran over and grabbed your arm, asking what was wrong.

Mike glanced around, shouting as he looked around outside

You and JJ hid behind a tree, he glanced at your leg, blood seeping through your pants as you set your bag down. “Oh… my god.”

“Fuck.” You gasped, holding your leg. You cried out, JJ grabbed your backpack and helped you up, noticing Mike getting even closer.

He grabbed a stick, handing it to you. You put it in between your teeth as to muffle your pained cries. JJ put his arm around you, helping you walk.

“Shit, stay with me, alright?”

“Mmhmm.” You groaned out through the stick.

“You’re gonna be fine, shit, why didn’t you fuckin’ run?” He cried out, and that’s when you noticed he was crying as well.

You looked at him, he sat you down when you both were far enough. He rolled up your pants, you crying in pain as you looked at the wound.

“Shit.” He mumbled, and began to rummage through his bag, grabbing a shirt of his and putting pressure on the wound.

You screamed, stick still muffling your noise. You grabbed onto JJ as he tied the shirt around your leg, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Fuck. Okay. Uhm… are you okay? Never mind, dumb question. I’m gonna take you to Ricky’s, or something, okay? I’m sure he’ll know what to do, and I’ll stay back with you-“

You took the stick out your mouth, panting heavily and cutting his sentence off.

“I’ll be fine.”

“What? You just got shot-“

“JJ, listen to me.” You grabbed his face in your hands. “We’re getting on that damn tarmac if it’s the last thing I fucking do. I am going to be fine, and I will find a doctor or something when we get there. I’m sure healthcare is much more affordable there than it is here.” You joked, he looked up at you.

He was so confused on how in the worst situations possible, you made it better.

You wiped your finger over his face, wiping his tears away. “You hear me?”

He nodded. He felt like he was a child again.

“Now help me get the fuck up, please?” You gave him a small smile, he stood up and wrapped the arms around him again. You wincing as you stood up.

——

On the tarmac, John B and Sarah stood. They saw you both come up.

“Why is he helping her walk?” Sarah asked.

“Was he.. crying?”

One thing about JJ, he never does that.

“What the fuck happened? Are you okay?” Sarah asked when JJ came up to them, she immediately helped you stand up, giving Jj a break as he breathed heavily.

“Mike fuckin’ came up, shot her right in the leg. She’s fine. But I swear to God, the second I see him it’s on sight.”

You gave them a thumbs up, smiling at Sarah.

“She can’t.. she can’t come, dude.” John B said. “We gotta take her to a hospital or something-“

“Dude, I said the same thing.” JJ told him.

“I’m fine. I told you I’m fine. All I need right now is some alcohol, and probably for it to be cleaned. I can do this.” You shrugged. “Can I have my bag?” You asked JJ, he handed it to Sarah.

“C’mon.” Sarah helped you up into the plane, and grabbed one of the first aid kits hidden in there.

“Thanks, Sar.”

“Of course.” She said, giving you a small smile. She stayed focused when cleaning your wound, apologizing every time you winced.

“I would just sit here for a little, okay? Don’t walk on it or anything for a while.”

“Yeah. Thank you, again.”

She nodded, heading back outside the plane. You smiled and leaned back, grabbing a beer bottle from your backpack.

It’s been a while, and they’re all still outside. You were asleep, comfortable on the seats and leaning up against the window.

“Y/n. Y/n.” JJs voice interrupted your lovely sleep. You grumbled and stirred, slowly opening your eyes.

“What?”

“I gotta go get Kie, you gon’ be okay here?” He glanced down at your leg and back at you.

“What? What’s wrong with Kie?” You asked, concerned.

“She’s not here, we think her parents are keeping her home or something.”

“What? Let me come with.”

“Are you serious? You can’t even walk.”

“Actually, I can kinda walk. Plus, I think you forget how good I am at sneaking out.”

He raised an eyebrow, your leg saying otherwise.

“That was the only time I’ve gotten caught okay?” You rolled your eyes. “And I did it to save your ass.”

“I know, I know, but-“

“Jayj. Take me with you before I shoot you.”

“I ain’t falling for it this time.”

“Be careful, okay?” You sighed. He nodded.

“His loss.” You mumbled, watching as he left. You leaned back onto the window, stretching your legs and arms, before going back to sleep.

——-

Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah @calmoistorm @rafesgiirl

#rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #maybanks sister

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akariarda · 3 days

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Meetings we haven't expected-Part1

Garmadon dies in Crystallized after a battle with Overlord. After the merge, his good side has been reincarnated and he finds Lloyd in Monastery with Arin and Sora.

Request from ao3

Lloyd sighed. It was a tough day, he had finally finished training and could rest.

He looked out the window and thought. He thought about those who were lost in the merge and needed to be found, and about those he would never find again... His father.

It happened for the second time, this time not as close, but it still hurt.

He remembered it as if it were yesterday.

☆☆☆☆☆

"By burying this plant, Cristopher, may it forever grow in this garden as a memory of my... my father." He managed to say through tears.

"It will be okay, Lloyd," Kai comforted him.

Everyone comforted him, but they couldn't empathize with him. They felt sorry, but it was as if they felt more sorry for him than for Garmadon.

And it all started with the battle against Overlord...

~~~~~~~

"Father!"Lloyd shouted after the Overlord hit Garmadon.

"I can't..."Garmadon caughted.

"It's okay," Lloyd comforted him, "Don't try to talk."

Garmadon returned to his normal form. "I'm sorry, Lloyd."

"Hold on," Lloyd worriedly spoke, "You'll be okay. I'll get you."

"Save... Save yourself. It's too late for me..." Garmadon coughed his last breath.

"No!!" Lloyd desperately shouted.

"Grieve not," Overlord laughed, "You will soon be joining him."

~~~~~~

Lloyd couldn't help but smile, wishing his father would come back to life as he did then.

~~~~~~

"Let's get out of here before the place explodes," Garmadon suddenly rose from the dead.

"You.." Lloyd's jaw almost dropped,

"What?" Garmadon confusedly asked,

"You're not dying?" Lloyd was astonished.

"Of course not."Garmadon said as if it was a normal thing.

"You were faking?!" Lloyd couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I was helping you achieve your Oni Form!" Garmadon proudly said.

Lloyd was annoyed, "I didn't need Oni Form! It didn't even work!"

"It would have, if you hadn't been scared by your own reflection," Garmadon angrily told Lloyd.

~~~~~~

"Lloyd," Misako came to Lloyd and hugged him.

"Mom," Lloyd tried to say something without crying.

"Everything is as it should be," she tried to comfort him while gently wiping tears from his face.

She also felt sorry, although probably not as much as usual. They hadn't talked since he comed back.

Surely for her, he never even lived again. She probably looked sick now just because it hurt to see him in that state.

Was there no one who completely understood him?

Then he remembered Master Wu!

He believed in his brother, always in everything.

~~~~~~

"It's true. She helped," Garmadon said about Harumi, "Not as much as I did, perhaps, but why argue over details."

"I'm so proud of you, brother!" Wu proudly smiled.

~~~~~~

He tried to go to Master Wu, but he had locked himself in his room to study ancient scrolls.

After Lloyd, he was the hardest for him. Lloyd barely held back from screaming in anger, just when they started to have a good relationship again...

Then he died after the battle with the Overlord, just after Lloyd thought everything was over..

☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Enough!" Lloyd scolded himself, "It makes no sense to think about it."

He said to himself, unaware of what was happening.

No more Cristopher, memories of Garmadon, Garmadon is no more...

Now it's best to go prepare training for Arina and Sora.

*******

"Sorry," Sensei Garmadon apologized as he passed through... A crossroad?

Was that what this place was called?

At least that's what everyone called it now. He didn't know how much time had passed since he woke up surprised as a human.

He just knew he wanted to find Lloyd as soon as possible. He hoped he would be happy to see him...

That he could tell him everything. And apologize for all the bad things he had done...

"Excuse me?" He asked a passerby, "Do you know where they are, especially the green ninja, I am his... This old acquaintance."

"This way," the man coldly said and led him to another tent.

Everyone seemed busy here! That's why he left with Lloyd and Misako outside the city, long ago, to find peace.

"Lloyd?" His heart was beating wildly as he entered the tent, but he didn't find what he was looking for.

"What?" Sensei Garmadon gasped as he looked at pictures of ninjas.

Children leaving flowers.

"Did they... leave?"Sensei Garmadon asked disbelievingly.

"Unfortunately," a lady answered him, "But some new ninjas have arrived."

"New ninjas?" Sensei Garmadon exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yes," the lady smiled, "I heard they are now in the monastery..."

"Monastery of Spinjitzu?!" Garmadon suddenly exclaimed. "Where?!"

"Up there." The lady pointed, obviously frightened by his sudden reaction.

He wanted to apologize but didn't have time. Sensei Garmadon ran as fast as he could, without attracting too much attention, towards the monastery.

When he finally saw it, his heart fluttered once again.

He had a feeling he would find Lloyd there, his only son and his only pride.

#ninjago #lord garmadon #emperor garmadon #Sensei Garmadon #lloyd montgomery garmadon #Garmafam #Arin and sora mentioned #dragons rising #Kai and ninja team #misako montgomery garmadon #Master Wu #Mentioned #Overlord

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treesbian · 10 days

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being mad at my parents for events long passed hours

#man my mom used to have my sisters help her pin me down so she could pop all the pimples on my face. bruh that fucking hurt. also.#worst thing you can do for those... i was having age-typical acne and i guess she just didn't like to look at it?? idk.#the acne itself didn't hurt but there was a lot of it so just like. you know how it does indeed hurt to pop those. well there were a lot #and she didn't stop even when i was crying and screaming bc she wasn't done??#and she did it to my back too and some of those grew on nerves and hurt even fucking more #and no she was not using properly sterilized equipment or even fresh washed hands thanks for asking <3 she acted entirely on impulse lol #i mean. i guess she knows its wrong **now** bc she hasn't tried anything similar with my baby sister....???#and shes starting to get acne like i used to have.#idk is that dramatic to be upset about. just imagine being pinched and pricked nonstop for like 2 hours. maybe it wasn't 2 hours.#but also physically restrained too like straight up sat on. is that fucked up.... thats not normal right???#and uh. a few years ago they held me still to shave my armpits with my dad's clippers bc mom is completely convinced #it isn’t possible to be hygenic as a 'woman' with pit hair or anything bc of Pheromones!!! and when i say goddamn fine #i'll just use men's hygiene stuff then she says that won't work bc Pheromones!!!!#like having a slightly different endocrine system makes ppl a different species or something #anyway. i cried just a little bit when they did that <3 gave me razor burn #and after my dad asked like 'is growing that hair out like. important to your identity or something' and.#well i dont know but that fucking hurt and you violated the choice that *eye* was making with *my* body #man i know mom still thinks she never physically abused me bc she didn't ever like. beat me up or anything but. thats abuse right??#she still thinks i was calling her abusive out of fucking nowhere.#sometimes she asks 'when was i ever abusive' and i give her an example and she goes 'well that was JUST BECAUSE--' and like. girl.#you think just bc you can justify it to yourself it wasn't abuse? every abuser can justify it to themselves....#talk tag #man i keep forgetting about how she used to physically restrain me to do her not-dermatologist approved extractions.#i guess it mostly didn't hurt that bad but like. the forcefullness and duration of it. lmao #anyway i found her a late mothers day gift today. its a hairstick with a dragonfly charm #abuse tw #sorry if that triggered anyone b4 i remembered to tag it

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toomuchdickfort · 6 months

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Vent abt smth that gets on my Nerves

#tried bringing up to mom like. hey how could I bring up coming out to family. and she was like visibly uncomfortable so I was like dw I’m no #gonna like try to ruin Christmas with it or some shit I’m just. nervous u see. and I’m sat there anxiety rambling abt it because oh my god.#and she pulls out the fucking. ‘can’t you just be a person?’ mom I am a person already. the problem is. the PROBLEM IS. EVERYONE THINKS I AM #AND THUS TREATS ME AS A GIRL. like oh my god.#vent #it’s not a huge vent like if it comes up I’m not gonna Lie moms discomfort abt the matter be damned.#but like. ‘can’t you just be a person’ is what she says every fucking time it comes up. like mom. mother. mi madre. do you realize how much #of an insult that feels like when you say it EVERY TIME I bring up trans anxieties. or dysphoria. or any of the ways my transness affects my #life. like being trans doesn’t make me less of a person oh my god. but also frankly I don’t have the patience to be nice about getting into #things and I don’t have the heart to hurt her about it and even if I did have one of those I don’t have the patience to hold her hand #through all this shit. like I gave up having mom on this journey ages ago do you know how painful it is to un-give up on something that #immense. it’s hard and it hurts and it burns and it’s like. giving up to begin with didn’t hurt too bad- it’s cutting off the festering #wound. but. but then. you find out that. you can in fact work with that. and suddenly you have to try and clean the wound. care for it and #wrap it and do it all over again. and god it hurts. and. I’m not entirely sure I want to un-give up all the way on this? it’s. a lot #like I get and I appreciate that she’s trying to do. something. in theory at least. she avoids the subject when I bring it up and all but #cringed when I brought up coming out to her side of the family. she calls me my deadname and her daughter more than she did before she said #she would try. and I don’t have the energy to uncover that wound enough to start cleaning it. I’m just letting it sit there because frankly #it’ll be such a huge thing because it’s Always a huge thing when I don’t let the subject drop mega fast and I’m. I know she’s not gonna cut #me off for just being trans but GOD I want to keep ONE of my parents in my fucking life when I’m able to stand on my own two feet holy shit #and. man. it appears this is. still more of a thing than I thought it was. thats. annoying and inconvenient

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magdaclaire · 1 year

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having autism is fucking fantastic bc i read these fics where people keep standing there even tho the conversation is hurting them just bc the conversation isn't "over," like babe it's over when i leave. one thing about me is that i will be leaving. goodbye.

#my grandparents brought up me getting a license once when i wasnt ready to talk about it (i was 17 or 18)#and i said out loud to them 'i don't wanna have this conversation'#and then they kept goin so i just went inside when my grandaddy was mid sentence #they tried to get my mom to say that i did something bad or i should be punished for being disrespectful #but my mom was like she said she didnt wanna talk about it.#and that is to this day the person i am. i am not just gonna stand there while someone hurts my feelings or triggers me #one thing about me is that i will be leaving #mer rambles

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the-cooler-king · 27 days

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Oh yeah..... midnight gospel be hitting.... sitting in my bed fuckin. Crying. Get a grip girl

#Its the trudy ep which is actually the episode that made me keep watching #I love love love this episode.....#Something about how.......... idk.... its a very profound ep that I can't explain and it's a nice cry #This ep kind of shaped my outlook on life especially after finding out about my friend dying #All the regrets and things left unsaid.... I make my peace daily by being really straight up #If I love and care about ppl I tell them... I say they are appreciated and cared for man #I am always thankful for people and I *love* people as a whole #And as long as the people around me intrinsically know that they are loved and cared for and cherished.... like that's it #That's the end game truly #I will never ever be sorry for that. This was THEEEE episode.#There's a lot of nuance behind my feelings best described by revolutionary girl utena #But still. I'm deep enough in my tags bc I'm crying over my s/o but not in a bad way #Fml I am so grateful to him as just an entity. As a person in my life even if our lives only intersect for this brief period of time #He hasn't been texting me much and we didn't talk much at work and I didn't even get a goodbye (rude lol)#But I know he was having a rough day. I know he needs a bit of tlc.#He could be on a downswing because I am certainly on an upswing #So I'm kind of like trying to focus on doing my own thing rn without worrying about it #Because I can't do anything about it so I might as well continue My Thang #But as I sometimes come to terms with us never talking again (gotta be prepared at all times to be ghosted)#I also come back to terms with needing him to really understand #how many people in his life depend on love cherish and admire him #And im not just talking about me... he has a lot of siblings and a not great mom. Two kids he loves.#He has always taken care of everyone else in his life #He deserves to really know and idk. It makes me think of this moment.#Realizing how much I dont ever want to question if he knows #I don't want to question if I could've done more or tried harder etc. I did my very best and didn't lie cheat steal or whatever #I am so grateful to him for letting me have that. Even if nothing can come from it in the end #Even if we should be torn apart!!!! Take my revolution!!!#Anyways. Here's wonderwall #Banger of an episode. Worth the rewatch

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pupkashi · 3 months

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satoru loves yapping [to you]

satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.

“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.

it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.

“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.

“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.

“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.

satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.

“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.

“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.

“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.

you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.

“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.

it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.

“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.

“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.

“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.

your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.

you can’t help but smile at your lover.

“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.

masterlist

a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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yanaromanov · 2 months

Text

my sweet assistant

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni

authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)

part two of the inescapable love series

inescapable love series

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

11.5K words

People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.

The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.

The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.

You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.

Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.

The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.

When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”

It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”

"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."

The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"

The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."

"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."

Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."

You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.

Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."

Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"

A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"

As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"

Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."

This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."

The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"

You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."

"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."

The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"

Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."

She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."

You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.

———

"When are you back again?"

"Friday night. About nine-ish?"

You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."

As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.

But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.

You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"

Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.

"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."

The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"

You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"

As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."

Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"

"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."

"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"

You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.

"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."

Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."

———

The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.

Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.

"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.

"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."

The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"

Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."

"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.

"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."

The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"

A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."

With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”

Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."

Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."

Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."

———

The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.

There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.

Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.

Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.

All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.

Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.

That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.

———

"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"

Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.

Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."

A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"

You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.

“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”

You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”

Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.

“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”

You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.

“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”

You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”

“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.

It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.

“You getting on alright, milaya?”

The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”

She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”

Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”

You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.

“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”

“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”

Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”

There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.

“So what about you?”

“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.

“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.

“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”

An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?

You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”

Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.

Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”

Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”

She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”

You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.

Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”

Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”

The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”

“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”

A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.

“And what to do you want to do?”

“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.

“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”

Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.

“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.

You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”

“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”

Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”

Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.

You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.

The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.

Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.

You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.

“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”

Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.

“Are you okay? What’s up?”

A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“

You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.

You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“

“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”

Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.

“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”

“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”

You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”

If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”

Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”

“Language building, room ML4.”

“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”

With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”

Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”

“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”

The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”

“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”

“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.

“I’m sure, Y/N.”

“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.

Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.

Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”

Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.

But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”

Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.

You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”

The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”

Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.

The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”

Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.

You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”

You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.

This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”

You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”

Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”

“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”

The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”

The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?

———

Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.

Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.

Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.

One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.

Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.

"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."

At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."

Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"

Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?

"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.

Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."

A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"

You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.

"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.

"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."

Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.

But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"

"Go on, milaya."

You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."

Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"

You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."

Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"

"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."

You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.

"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #lawyer wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #platonic kate bishop x reader

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