#who knows! now it's out there let's see what happens

[elssero]

overheard.

k.bakugo

-in which bakugo overhears you talking about him with the girls... super whipped bakugo. cute confessions.

he knows he shouldn’t have followed him.

when sero dared him and denki to listen in on your conversations during girls night he knew it was wrong.

he knew it was wrong when he got up to follow his friend, he knew it was wrong on the walk to the room and he knows that it’s wrong now- while his ear is pressed against the door.

he doesn’t know why he followed denki- all he knows is that he’s now found himself pressed up against the wall- breathing silently as to not alert any of you of their position.

he can hear the conversation surprisingly clearly- it’s something stupid about your celebrity crushes- he wasn’t aware that girls were so.. vulgur?

“wait okay i’ve got a good one-“ it’s mina he hears- her loud voice clear as day as she begins her question- “if you had to go on a date with one of the guys in our class- who would it be?”

gasps burst throughout the room at the end of her question- giggles coming from a few of you-

he feels denki nudge his side- when he looks to the left he sees a knowing look in the boy eyes.

it’s not a secret as to who’s answer he wants to hear- it’s yours. it just so happens that almost every single one of his friends had somehow figured out about his little crush on you- everyone but you at least.

“okay okay- i’ll go first-” he doesn’t make care for minas answer, she says something about kirishima before admitting she could never actually date him- they’re too close for that. so she settles on todoroki.

gasps of surprise seem to come from the girls after that answer- “it’s not an actual crush!- he’s just handsome!”

it’s hagakure who goes next- she makes a small comment about todoroki that mina quickly agrees with before making the final decision on ojiro-

uraraka refuses to answer- teasing questions are asked about izuku- or iida? bakugo is forced to hold in a scoff.

“cmon yn! you gottta tell us!” the mention of your name brings bakugo back to focus, ears perking up as to not miss your answer.

“okay- you guys have to promise not to judge.” the excited squeals of the girls are followed with an array of promises not to judge you-

“well if i had too- it would probably be bakugo.”

his heart is beating faster than it ever has before- you just said his name. his name. out of everyone in your class you’d want him.

oh. oh.

the laughs from the girls are completely tuned out as bakugo begins to take in what you’d said. squeals of excitement are quickly turned into a bombarding of questions.

“but- why? he’s such a dick?” laughs are heard from jirou as she questions you- bakugo is too infested in your answer to take note of the insult.

“well- i guess that’s kinda what i like about him?” confused murmurs are heard from the girls surrounding you- urging you to continue.

“yes he’s loud- and obnoxious- but i guess i can’t help but find that- almost charming?”

words of disagreement leave your friends mouths.

it’s only when denki taps his shoulder when he realises his friend is still stood next to him- his jaw is dropped as he looks at the blonde. it takes him a second before he realises he feels the heat in his face- a clear blush across his features.

bakugo turns away in an instant- making his way back to the kirishimas room where they had been previously hanging out.

he slams the door behind him and denki hard- immediately pressing his back against the door letting his head fall back as he gains his breathe.

“so? what did you guys hear?” he can’t even answer sero when he asks- far too busy thinking about what you had said-

“oh- just that if yn had to go out on a date with anyone in the class, it would be our bakugo-” he could slap denki right now- if he wasn’t so starstruck.

kirishima jumps up immediately- wrapping an arm around his friends shoulders. “bakugo- man this is great! you totally have a shot!”

he wants to answer- tell his friends to shut up- but his throat feels dry and the words won’t come out, still attempting to get ahold on his breathing he shoves kirishima away from him.

“i- i fuck i don’t know how to do this shit.”

“don’t worry about it man- we’ll wingman you-” kirishima’s words of encouragement are swiftly cut off by a knock at the door. despite not knowing who it is- a pit forms in bakugos stomach.

slowly and silently bakugo moves away from the door to allow his red haired friend to greet whoever is on the other side.

“hey- is bakugo in here? i need to talk to him.” he hears your voice from his spot behind the door as he sinks into the corner, his heart rate begins to sore once again.

“yeah he’s here!” the grip on his shirt is strong as it pulls him out of his hiding spot- now finding himself face to face with you as you eye him suspiciously.

you don’t say anything as you turn away- he watches you walk without moving, feet glued to the floor. kirishima pushes him out the door whispering a quick good luck.

he follows you down the hall- you take a look around you before taking a left, seemingly looking for an empty space.

his heart is beating out of his chest so fast he’s afraid you might hear it, he watches you walking in front of him in complete silence, it feels like torture.

you stop at the end hall and before turning around to look behind him- your making sure your alone before you finally turn to look at him again.

you stare at him expectingly and he feels his stress levels rise- he needs to know what you want from him and now.

“we heard you.” his previously ferociously beating heart feels as though it’s stopped- falling flat into his stomach.

“w-what’re you talking about?” if the stutter in his usually brash voice isn’t enough- you know that bakugo isn’t an idiot, and you know that he’s aware exactly what your talking about-

“earlier- you were eavesdropping on us.” the temperature in the hall feels as through its increasingly rising- he feels the tips of his ears getting warmer the longer you look at him for.

“i-ive got no idea what your talking about.” you take a step closer to him now- he has to stop himself from scurrying away.

“so it wasn’t you outside mina’s form earlier?” a lump forms in bakugos throat- he feels pathetic, how can he manage to be so strong but completely crumble when it came to you?

“we did some eavesdropping of our own.” bakugo watches as the look in our eye changes- casting a teasing look as you continue.

“what exactly was it that you and your friends were just talking about?”

he wants to answer you- he truly does. he feels the weight of the feelings he’s had for you since last year, he wants needs to tell you.

he remembers all the stolen glances he gives you, how sometimes he would catch your eye and it would plague his thoughts for days after.

the things he wishes he could do with you come to mind, the list of spots he’s found that he’s certain you’d love- that he’d love to show you.

he thinks about how he wants to be there for you, to be the person you reach for, your safe space.

he wants to tell you.

“you- we were talking about you” he blurts it out before he can think about it properly, your eyes widen slightly, clearly taken aback.

“it’s always you.” he takes a deep breath before he continues, deciding not to rush himself.

“your the first thing i think of when i wake up- and the last thing i think of before i fall asleep. i- fuck- i think about you all the time.” he holds your stare as he continues- hoping- praying you can reciprocate his feelings.

“i can’t get you out of my head and- i’ve never felt like this before-“ taking long breath- the tension in this stupid hallway seems to only be growing before he closes his eyes.

“i like you- alot.”

silence follows his confession- bakugos eyes still glued shut as his breathes deepen, hands slightly shaking as they rest by his sides.

he opens his eyes slowly- half expecting you to have walked away before he catches the first glimpse of your face. that stupid smile plastered on it.

he takes you in- his eyes now fully open as you looks in you in a daze, you finally begin to speak.

“i know.” it’s almost a whisper when you say it- the weight of your words not fully settled in before his initial confused disappears- he can’t help the way that the tone of your voice makes him feel instantly comfortable.

“i like you too.”

[hoshifighting]

can't stop thinking about dumbification w wonwoo....he's one cocky mf and I just KNOW he'd be so filthy😩😩

what are your thoughts??

dumbification with wonwoo WARNINGS: smut, dumbification, fingering, squirting, dirty talk.

tbh you never expected this kind of shit to happen with him, least of all. wonwoo—who barely blinks when u flirt or tease, as if he's above it all. but now, fuck, he's got you on your back, legs spread wide and trembling, fingers pressing so deep inside you that your mind is starting to blank out, and all you can think about is how good it feels. you’re already a mess, whining and squirming, trying to catch your breath while he's got that stupid smirk playing on his lips like he’s enjoying every second of watching you fall apart.

“shit, look at the mess youre making of yourself baby girl, so fucking wet f'me” he mutters, voice raspy, fingers pushing in and out of you at a slow, agonizing pace. “can’t even think straight, hm?” you try to form a response, something snarky or witty, but all that comes out is a whimper, hips lifting to meet his touch, desperate for more. he’s dragging this out on purpose, you know it. trying to push you past the point where you can keep that sharp tongue of yours and turn you into nothing but a mess beneath him.

“wonwoo,” you manage to gasp, voice catching as he curls his fingers inside you just right, brushing against that spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. “please—" he chuckles, deep and dark, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your neck as he leans in closer. “please, what?” he taunts, fingers slowing down to a maddening pace, just enough to keep you on the edge but not enough to push you over. “you want more? or are you already too fucked out to handle it?” you shake your head, trying to clear the haze, but it’s impossible. the heat pooling in your belly is making you splash, fever spreading through your limbs and making your mind go blank “answer me,” he commands, his free hand coming up to grip your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. “use your words, baby. or is that too hard for you now?”

your brain is a foggy mess, but you try to focus, try to form some semblance of thought. “fuck—more, please, i—” your voice cracks, the words barely coherent, but it’s enough for him.

“good girl,” he purrs, and his fingers speed up, pumping into you harder and faster, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the air. “see? you can be good when you try.” it’s embarrassing how fast you lose yourself after that. the pleasure is too much, too intense, and all you can do is lay there, legs twitching, hips bucking, completely at his mercy. you’re babbling now, words that barely make sense falling from your lips as you beg for more, beg for him to let you come, to end this delicious torture. “you like it when i make you stupid, huh?”

you can’t respond. not in any way that matters. the only thing you manage is a broken moan, hands clutching at the sheets like a lifeline as the heat builds inside you, threatening to consume you whole. you’re so close, teetering on the edge, and he knows it. “go on,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “show me how dumb i can make you. show me how fucking good i can make you feel.”

t hits you all at once. your vision goes white, body convulsing as the orgasm tears through you, so intense you barely register the flood of wetness soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. you’re shaking, gasping, unable to form a single coherent thought as the pleasure washes over you. wonwoo watches you fall apart, “fuck, that’s it,” he murmurs. “look at you. didn’t think i’d get you this messy.” u’re still trembling, still trying to catch your breath, and all you can do is nod weakly.

[euthymiya]

i think kinich would be so into getting his head scratched like i swear he’d curl up like a little cat

[ POST-COMMISSION — FT. KINICH ]

synopsis: post commission kinich aka tired kinich aka clingy cat kinich happens to be your all time favorite version of kinich

before you read: gender neutral reader ; ajaw’s typical bickering (but he has a soft spot for reader) ; tired kinich ; kinich’s forehead makes a cameo (lolll) ; just a clingy sleepy saurian hunter getting his head scratchies :(

“You seem tired,” you hum, grinning down as his head falls onto your lap. Kinich is only half awake when he grumbles something incoherently under his breath, slumping his weight down as his face buries into your shirt and his arms wrap around your waist.

“Oh you should’ve seen him,” Ajaw snickers, popping up from behind your shoulder to look down at your lap, smugly adding, “that saurian almost took him right out! It’s too bad it didn’t. Then the Almighty Dragonlord Ku’hul Ajaw could’ve taken his body and—”

“You’ll get thrown off a cliff if you don’t shut up,” Kinich glowers.

You laugh, earning an unimpressed huff from him until your fingers tangle into his hair, leaving soothing scratches against the his scalp as his eyes flutter shut instantly. “Oh, c’mon. How do you both have the energy to bicker like this after such a tiring day?”

“He started it,” Kinich grumbles. His voice is almost slurred, like your touch has drained the last remaining bits of his consciousness.

You think maybe it has.

“You filthy maggot,” Ajaw screeches, “how dare you accuse me of—”

“Ajaw,” you protest. He silences petulantly, but not without a petty grunt before he floats off.

“Why does he listen to you?”

You look down at Kinich amused, pushing back the bandana on his forehead to expose the skin, brushing his bangs from his face as you lean down and press a soft peck. He hums, satisfied with the affection enough to curl his body into yours even closer.

“Maybe because I’m nice,” you grin. “And cute.”

“You are cute,” he agrees.

You watch him fondly, the way his eyes fight to stay open as he blinks up at you, trying to keep himself awake. Your grin widens as he yawns, earning him the reward of your soft giggle and your thumb tracing over his temple.

“You should sleep.”

“Not tired,” he grunts. “How was your day.”

“Great,” you say vaguely, looking at him with a knowing gaze. “Now sleep.”

“Said I’m not tired,” he insists stubbornly. You can see the crinkles in his forehead when his brows furrow without the bandana to cover them up. It pulls a smile across your lips, your thumb trailing down to trace the lines delicately.

It’s easier to read his emotions this way—not that you had trouble before, anyway. You can read the look in his eyes and catch the subtle flickers of emotions easily. But he looks more vulnerable this way, more bare and less hidden.

“You should wear this less,” you hold up his bandana to wave over his face, “you have a cute forehead.”

“Now I’m never going to take it off,” he grins sleepily, earning a half-hearted glare from you.

“Then less forehead kisses for you,” you counter.

He looks smug, even for someone who seems so close to falling asleep. A low rumble of his chuckle vibrates against your body before his low voice murmurs, “I doubt that. You’ll still do it anyway.”

His eyes close, breath evening out. You admire the sharp curves of his features, hand moving from his head to let your finger trace along the slopes of his face—except they don’t make it very far.

Not when his hand is too fast to catch your wrist, keeping you firmly in place with a low grunt of protest.

“What—”

“Keep doing that,” he demands quietly, eyes peering up at you tiredly before they flutter shut again. And almost like he’s waiting until he’s certain you’ll really continue, his breathing only evens out once more when your fingers tangle into the dark locks again.

“So demanding,” you chuckle. He drifts off, and you think love is the sound of soft snores and the feeling of soft hair between your fingertips.

Dear cat distribution system, please send my way one (1) tired and sleepy cat that also is named Kinich that also has a dendro vision and is a saurian hunter with a very loud and obnoxious saurian companion who wants him dead for his body and is contractually binded to him for the time being. Again, that’s one (1) tired and sleepy cat that also is named Kinich that also has a dendro vision and is a saurian hunter with a very loud and obnoxious saurian companion who wants him dead for his body and is contractually binded to him for the time being—thank you!

[its-avalon-08]

Hello, my favourite Lando Norris writer. Can I request something with Lando where Reader has a son from a previous toxic relationship and Lando thinks she's like hiding something from, like cheating but she confess everything and Lando becomes the dad that stepped up. 🫶

miracle family (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - neglected child, tears, comfort

Lando sat at his dining table, staring at his phone. It had been a few days since he last saw Y/N, and though they’d spoken, something felt… off. She’d been distant, always rushing through their calls, making excuses to cut their time short. He told himself he was imagining it, that she was just busy, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn't let it go.

He thought back to their last date. They had planned to spend the entire evening together, but halfway through dinner, Y/N had gotten a call. She stepped outside to take it, her expression unreadable, but when she returned, her mood had shifted. Her usual brightness had dulled, and she seemed distracted for the rest of the night.

"Sorry, Lando, just some work stuff," she had said with a quick smile when he asked about the call. He didn’t press further, not wanting to seem pushy, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Then there were the texts. Every time they were together, Y/N seemed to be checking her phone, typing quickly before locking the screen and setting it aside. She never let him see who she was messaging, and when he casually asked if everything was okay, she’d brush it off.

"Yeah, all good. Just a friend going through something," she had said once, her eyes darting away as if she couldn’t meet his gaze.

But the real moment that had started gnawing at him happened the previous weekend. Lando had invited Y/N to one of his races, excited to have her there with him. She’d always been supportive, her energy infectious, but this time, she’d been oddly quiet. When he asked if everything was alright, she just smiled tightly and said she was tired. But after the race, instead of joining him for drinks with the team, she had left abruptly.

"I’ve got to go, Lando. Something’s come up. I’ll explain later, okay?" Her voice had been apologetic, but her eyes… something about them seemed conflicted, like there was something she wasn’t telling him.

He didn’t know why, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone else. Was she hiding something from him? Maybe she was seeing someone behind his back, someone she wasn’t ready to tell him about. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask her directly.

Instead, Lando had chosen to observe, watching her carefully over the next few weeks. The phone calls, the quick glances at her screen, the random moments of detachment—it all added up. But every time he was about to say something, the words got stuck in his throat. What if he was wrong? What if she wasn’t cheating, and he was just overthinking everything?

Yet the doubts remained. He found himself scrolling through their old texts late at night, trying to pinpoint when the change had started. He remembered how things used to be—how open and carefree Y/N had been with him. But lately, it felt like there was a wall between them, one she wasn’t letting him break through.

And then, there was that one time she came over to his apartment, looking tired and worn out. She had barely spoken, her eyes heavy with something she wouldn’t share. He had asked her if she wanted to talk, but she had only shaken her head.

"I’m fine, Lando. Just a lot going on."

"Is it work?" he had asked, gently pushing, hoping to understand what was weighing her down.

"It’s… complicated," she had murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Lando hadn’t said anything more that night, but the silence between them had been louder than any words could have been. He had held her close, but even then, she had felt far away.

Now, as he sat alone in his apartment, his mind spinning with unanswered questions, Lando couldn’t help but wonder: was Y/N hiding something from him? Or was it something bigger—something she was afraid to tell him?

Either way, he knew he couldn’t keep pretending everything was normal. Not when it felt like he was losing her, piece by piece.

time skip

Lando strolled through the supermarket aisles, humming softly to himself as he checked items off his shopping list. It was a rare day off, and he decided to take care of some errands. He rounded the corner into the cereal aisle when a small, energetic blur collided with his legs.

"Oh, sorry!" Lando exclaimed, looking down to see a young boy, probably around five years old, grinning up at him.

"It's okay, mister!" the boy chirped. "I was just trying to find the cereal with the marshmallows. Do you know where it is?"

Lando chuckled, kneeling down to the boy's level. "I think it’s a couple of shelves down. What's your name, buddy?"

"I'm Ethan!" the boy said proudly. "What's yours?"

"Lando. Nice to meet you, Ethan," Lando replied, ruffling the boy's hair.

Ethan's eyes widened with excitement. "Like the race car driver?"

Lando laughed. "Exactly like the race car driver."

Ethan's eyes sparkled with wonder. "Wow! My mummy loves race cars! She watches them all the time."

Lando smiled, charmed by the boy's enthusiasm. "Your mum has good taste. Speaking of which, where is she? Shouldn't she be keeping an eye on you?"

Ethan pointed towards the end of the aisle. "She's over there! Mummy! Mummy!"

Lando turned his head in the direction Ethan was pointing, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Y/N standing at the end of the aisle, a look of shock and surprise on her face. She quickly made her way over, her eyes wide with a mixture of emotions.

"Lan?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Y/N, uh baby," Lando replied, equally stunned. "I didn't know… I mean, Ethan is your…?"

Y/N nodded, kneeling down to scoop Ethan into her arms. "Yeah, ummm this is my son, Ethan."

Ethan beamed, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Mummy, this is Lando! He's the race car driver!"

Y/N managed a weak smile. "I know, sweetheart. Why don't you go pick out the cereal you wanted?"

Ethan nodded eagerly and ran off, leaving Lando and Y/N standing there, an awkward silence hanging between them.

"Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?" Lando asked softly, his eyes searching hers.

Lando stood frozen, Y/N’s words echoing in his mind.

“I have a son.”

The bustling supermarket seemed to fade into the background, the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of shopping carts drowned out by the weight of her confession. Y/N stood before him, her hands trembling slightly as she held onto the shopping basket, her eyes wide and filled with fear, as though she was bracing herself for his reaction.

Lando blinked, trying to process the information. “You… you have a son?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief.

Y/N nodded, biting her lip, and that was when her composure began to crack. Her eyes welled up, her breath hitching in her chest as the emotions she had tried so hard to suppress finally surfaced. "Lando, I didn’t know how to tell you. I was so scared you’d leave if you knew. I’ve been hiding it, and I’m so sorry. I—"

Her words choked off as tears streamed down her face. She dropped the basket, her hands covering her face as she sobbed, right there in the middle of the cereal aisle.

“I didn’t want you to think I was hiding it because I don’t trust you, it’s just… Ethan is my whole life. His father was—he was awful, and I didn’t know how to protect us. I’m so sorry, Lando, I should’ve told you sooner—”

But before she could finish, Lando was there, dropping everything as he closed the space between them. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her into his chest as her body shook with sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Lando whispered, his voice soft and soothing. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Y/N.”

Y/N clung to him, burying her face in his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. "I'm so sorry," she cried, her words muffled against him. "I didn’t want to lose you. I was so scared."

Lando tightened his embrace, his hand gently stroking the back of her head. "You’re not losing me. You could never lose me."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at her tear-streaked face. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “I wish you’d told me earlier, but I get it. I get why you were scared. But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You and Ethan—you’re part of my life now. I want to be here for both of you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and hope. "You really mean that?"

Lando nodded, his voice steady and full of conviction. "I do. I love you, and if Ethan’s a part of your life, then he’s a part of mine too."

Fresh tears filled her eyes, but this time they weren’t from fear or sadness. They were from relief, from the overwhelming realization that she wasn’t alone anymore. "Lando… I don’t even know what to say."

“You don’t have to say anything. Just… trust me, okay? We’ll figure this out together.” He pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly as her breathing slowly steadied, her sobs turning into soft sniffles.

In that moment, surrounded by the quiet chaos of the supermarket, Lando knew that nothing else mattered. Not the people passing by, not the curious glances from other shoppers. All that mattered was Y/N and the promise he had made—to be there for her, to be there for Ethan, no matter what.

And as he held her, he realized that this was what love was about. Not just the good moments, but the hard ones too—the moments where you drop everything to be there for the person you love, no questions asked.

At that moment, Ethan came running back with a box of cereal, his face glowing with excitement. "I found it, Mummy! Look!"

Y/N and Lando both laughed, the tension dissipating as they turned their attention to the enthusiastic boy.

"Great choice, Ethan," Lando said, giving him a high-five. "How about we go check out and then grab some ice cream?"

Ethan's eyes lit up. "Yes, please!"

As they made their way to the checkout, Lando glanced at Y/N, his heart swelling with love and commitment. He knew that their journey together wouldn't always be easy, but he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For Y/N, for Ethan, and for the family they were about to become.

--- extra scene p.s.a - abusive partner ----

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the park, Ethan ran ahead to the playground, his laughter filling the air. Lando and Y/N watched him for a moment, their hands intertwined as they sat on a nearby bench.

"He's really something," Lando said softly, a smile playing on his lips.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fixed on Ethan. "He is. He's my whole world."

Lando glanced at her, squeezing her hand gently. "Y/N, can we take a walk? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Y/N looked at him, a hint of worry in her eyes, but she nodded. "Sure, Lando."

They stood up and began to walk along the path that circled the playground, the sounds of children playing fading into the background.

"Y/N," Lando began hesitantly, "I want to understand more about Ethan's father. About what you went through. But only if you're ready to talk about it."

Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around Lando's. "It's… it's not easy to talk about. But you deserve to know."

She paused, collecting her thoughts as they walked. "Ethan's father, Mark, was… he was charming at first. But it didn't take long for his true colors to show. He was controlling, manipulative, and it only got worse over time."

Lando's grip on her hand tightened in silent support as she continued. "He would get angry over the smallest things, and his anger… it was terrifying. He hurt me, Lando. Physically, emotionally. I stayed because I thought I could change him, that things would get better. But they never did."

Y/N's voice broke, and she wiped away a tear that had escaped. "When I found out I was pregnant with Ethan, I knew I had to leave. I couldn't let him grow up in that environment. I was scared, but I knew it was the right thing to do."

Lando stopped walking, turning to face her. "Y/N, I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been for you. You're so strong."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face now. "I don't feel strong, Lando. I felt broken and alone. But I had to protect Ethan. I had to give him a chance at a better life."

Lando pulled her into a tight embrace, his own eyes glistening with tears. "You did the right thing. And you're not alone anymore. You have me, and I'll be here for both of you. Always."

Y/N sobbed against his chest, the weight of her past finally lifting as she felt the warmth of his love and support. "Thank you, Lando. Thank you for being here, for understanding."

He kissed the top of her head, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you, Y/N. And I love Ethan. We'll make this work, I promise."

They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the world around them fading away. When they finally pulled back, Lando gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"Let's go back to Ethan," he said softly. "He's probably wondering where we went."

Y/N nodded, a small but genuine smile forming on her lips. "Yeah, let's go."

As they walked back to the playground, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of hope and peace that she hadn't felt in a long time. She knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but with Lando by her side, she was ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 AND WHEN I'M BACK IN YOKOHAMA

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: with the team sent to escort you back to the port mafia headquarters obliterated, you're on your own in a war-torn yokohama. or, well, you are until mori sends out the infamous double black to retrieve you... you almost wish he would've let you suffer out there alone.

wordcount: 10k; sfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, mentions of mafia business

AUTHOR'S NOTES: at last, we get the first meeting between pm!reader & double black. keep your eye out for two other cameos in this fic ;) i can't remember if dazai and chuuya got their moniker before or during the dragon's head conflict and i dont feel like going to go figure it out so for the sake of my sanity, their little duo started rising in infamy just before the conflict broke out.

“Oh, this is the worst,” you complain quietly, arms wrapped around your waist as you look up and down the abandoned street.

The city looks nothing short of apocalyptic with dead bodies littering the ground and buildings caved in. You can’t help but want to blow up at Mori for calling you back to Yokohama with all of this happening. The “elite squad” he had sent to ensure you arrived at the Port Mafia base safely had been all but decimated by an ability user with a penchant for arson—you only survived by the skin of your teeth, running as fast as you could down vaguely familiar alleys until you finally lost him. 

You pull out your phone, trying to see if you can call Mori but only fall further into despair when you find that you have no cell service and your phone is nearly dead.

Tucking your phone back in your pocket, you let out a shaky breath as you begin to make your way down the street again, trying to figure out where exactly you are so you can get to the base as soon as possible. It’s only a matter of time before that pyromaniac finds you and your ability isn’t exactly built for self-defense or combat—you’re not sure if you can get yours activated before you’re roasted to death by the man.

You swallow thickly, anxiety beginning to spread through you as you make your way through rubble down the street. What happened? It’s all too reminiscent of that day eight years ago when Mori found you, the death and destruction as far as the eye could see—it drags up emotions you’ve long since repressed and now is not the time for it.

You’d been unable to get answers out of Mori’s men before the ability user attacked your convoy, but it seems as if the city has become a warzone—but over what? How hasn’t it reached the news outlets yet? And who are the combatants? Obviously, the Port Mafia is one of them, and you can guess that Mori called you back to Yokohama because the war isn’t falling in their favor, but who the hell is strong enough to compete with the Port Mafia, and why? 

You sigh, kicking absently at a small rock as you continue down the street. 

You should have been briefed. You don’t know why you weren’t briefed before being called back to the city. Frustrated, you turn down a somewhat familiar alley and lean against the wall, resting your head back against the bricks. You need to figure out what’s going on, but more importantly, you need to figure out where the hell you are so you can get back into safe territory.

You peek your head out to peer around the road—not a soul in sight in the streets, but… your gaze flickers up to the buildings, sliding from window to window until you catch sight of a figure peeking from between the blinds down to where you’re standing in the alleyway. Instantly, they let the blinds fall shut and throw themselves back indoors, but it’s too late—you’ve already spotted them.

You let out a breath of relief, looking both ways to make sure the fire manipulator hasn’t caught up to you yet before darting across the street to the building. It’s an apartment complex—the door leading into it has been half knocked off its hinges, so it’s easy to push it open and step inside.

The whole hallway has been ravaged, doors on the lower floors kicked in to reveal trashed rooms. You have to be careful not to step on glass as you make your way to the stairwell, Third floor, fifth window from the right. Most of the doors on the third floor aren’t quite as done in as the ones on the first, but only one has light peeking out from the crack.

You exhale, letting your eyes slide shut briefly before you raise your fist to knock on the door. “Excuse me! Would you mind answering a few questions? … I just arrived in the area, got caught in the crossfire of some battle, I would really appreciate the help, if you can spare any.” You’re careful to keep your voice light, gentle, and you’re even more careful to make sure your expression is smooth and unassuming when you hear the lock click open.

“You picked a god-awful time to come to Yokohama, child.” You hear an older woman speaking on the other side of the door; she doesn’t open it yet, but now that it’s cracked, you think your ability will work quickly to make her at ease. “Not one of ‘em Strain decoys, are you?” 

The fact that you have no idea what she means by that is infuriating, a reminder that Mori didn’t even bother to warn you about anything before dragging you back here, but you don’t let your frustration seep onto your face.

Strain… Strain… That Australian organization? What the hell are they doing in Yokohama? Why have you been kept so in the dark?

“No ma’am, unfortunately, I don’t even know what you mean by that,” you admit, and when you hear the woman let out a heavy sigh, you know that you’ve won, sending up a silent prayer of thanks as she opens the door to let you in. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

The woman only grumbles, but her eyes are gentle and her wrinkled face is soft as she ushers you into the room, shutting the door behind you and locking it. She’s not alone in the apartment, you notice—there’s a teen boy around your age lingering in the hallway, blonde hair cut short and glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose as he studies you with a frown. 

“What are you doing out here on your own, girl?” the elderly woman asks as she wobbles after you into the main room of the apartment, ushering you to sit down. “Doppo, go get the poor girl some water. Stop acting like a lump, boy.”

The boy looks disgruntled but nods, scampering off into the kitchen as the woman turns her attention back toward you. “Well? Don’t you know? Yokohama’s no place for tourists lately. Where are your parents?”

Your smile falters, mind racing as you try to pick your words carefully. “My father is the one who told me to come back to the city. I was… not made aware of the circumstances I would be arriving in.”

“Men,” the elderly woman spits out, looking up as the boy, Doppo, returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you and one to the woman. “Take notes, boy, you better not end up like one of those useless wastes of air or I’ll put you down myself, understand?” 

“Yes, granny,” the boy replies, and though he still looks distinctly aggrieved, you can’t help but feel amused by the fact that he immediately pulls out a notebook to take notes.

“Would you mind telling me what exactly… happened to the city?” you ask after a moment, taking a sip of the cool water and trying to make yourself a bit more comfortable on the sofa. “I haven’t seen anything on the news about this.”

The woman scoffs, waving her hand. “Of course not, big whigs think that they can keep it all on the low and get it under control before the incident makes it across seas,” she says roughly. “Gang wars broke out after some bastard with a lot of money died. Came in from all over to try to get their hands on the money. Whole city’s being torn apart.”

Interesting, you think to yourself, mind racing as you put together the few puzzle pieces you’ve been given. How many factions are already here? Who are they? Why did Mori call you back here if it’s already escalated this much? Your ability might be key in intel gathering and negotiations, but you’d be useless in combat.

“Our ward is under the control of some organization called the Strain,” the boy tells you. “They’ve been targeting civilians. They-”

Doppo grimaces and looks away, an angry expression crossing his face and you watch as the elderly woman reaches out to squeeze his forearm before looking back over to you. “Boy’s mother was killed by them the night the conflict broke out. I’ve been looking after him since.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say quietly, but he only averts his gaze from you, looking down at the ground. 

Strain. You were right. You’ve heard a lot of them. They originated in the Australian underground, but they spread rapidly throughout the world—footholds in every major country, stakes in every major world event. Brutal and ambitious, you suppose you’re not surprised they came here if there’s as much money up for grabs as the woman assumes. 

“What ward are you trying to get to, girl?” the woman asks you. “It’s not safe out there on your own. There are no rules or laws anymore, whole city is anarchic. You go out there on your own and you’ll be picked off by Strain.”

“I need to get to my father,” you tell her as you shake your head. The Port Mafia must be in an especially precarious position if Mori is bringing you back after the conflict has escalated this much—your heart rate spikes as worst-case scenarios start to fly through your head, wondering if they’ve been backed into a corner, forced into a position where their only option is negotiations for surrender. Logically, you know Mori would never let that happen, but it doesn’t quell the rising fear. “He’s in Naka-ku.”

You just need to know what ward you’re in and-

“You’re in Kanagawa-ku right now, you’ll never make it through it and Nishi-ku—and Naka-ku is the heart of the conflict,” the woman says as she clicks her tongue. “Stay here. You’ll be safer.”

“I need to get to my father,” you repeat again, “but thank you, really, for the offer and concern… and for helping me figure out what’s going on. I appreciate it.”

You rise to your feet to leave, and instantly, the boy is on his feet, nearly knocking over the woman’s cup of water and promptly getting whacked with a rag in response. The boy winces but takes a few steps toward you, undeterred. 

“You can’t go out there,” he says, green eyes pleading for you to listen. “Just stay. Once everything’s calmed down, we can help you find your father.”

“I can’t stay,” you say quietly, wondering if Doppo’s desperation for you to stay is a result of your ability messing with his head or if he really does just have that big of a heart. You think as a thank you for their help, that you’ll ensure that Yokohama will become Strain’s grave.

The old woman makes another disparaging comment about ungrateful fathers before nodding at you. “Good luck, girl, be careful out there.”

You make it approximately seven blocks before the ability user that you thought you lost catches up to you. You think that if you die here, you’re going to spend the entire rest of Mori’s life terrorizing him as a ghost. You grimace as a wave of flames sweeps above you, you can feel the heat against the top of your head from where you’re using an abandoned car to shield you from the man, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he gets to you.

Shit, you sigh, eyes flitting around the street trying to figure out if there’s anywhere you can dart to, but the only other rubble you could hide behind is a tipped-over dumpster in an alley twenty yards away—you’ll never make it that far without something to shield you from the flames. 

You blame Mori. Again. He should’ve warned you about what you’re walking into, and he should’ve sent more than just a group of second-rate losers to pick you up from the station knowing how bad the city is. Now, you’re going to get roasted alive by some psychotic pyromaniac when you should be back in Kyoto dealing with the more pleasant parts of business—wining and dining elites to strike deals and expand the Mafia’s influence throughout all of the societal spheres of Japan.

You grimace as you steady your gun in front of you, using the broken side-view mirror of the car you’re hiding behind to try to figure out where the ability user is because if you can get one good shot off you’d at least have enough time to make a break for it. You just need to focus—the Colonel didn’t put you through all of that firearms training just for you to choke up when you actually need to use it.

Your gaze tracks the man as soon as he comes within view of the mirror. You breathe in and out steadily—once, twice, three times. He’s fumbling with a walkie-talkie, distracted, and you don’t hesitate before taking the given chance. You twist into a kneeling position to face where he’s standing, raising both arms as you aim the gun in his direction; he catches your movement from the corner of his eye, expression shifting into one of anger, but you fire off three bullets before he can retaliate.

Or so you thought.

Your lips part in shock as the man whips a fireball in your direction before he hits the ground—even if you do evade it in time, it’s stronger than the rest he’s been throwing at you, it’ll blow right through the car you’re using as a barrier.

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to take a step back but your ankle catches on a stray piece of rubble. You hit the ground hard, pain shooting up your leg and as you brace yourself for the flames, you squeeze your eyes shut.

But the agony of burning to death never comes.

Your eyes fly back open when you see someone standing between you and the fireball, the flames fizzling out and dying before they can touch him. They disappear, unable to get past him to you, and your eyes widen in shock. Who on earth… He looks over his shoulder at you, dark-hair flopping in his visible eye—he’s pretty, you think absently, even if a quarter of his face is covered in bandages. You blame your thoughts on the fact that you’re still a bit stunned and confused. 

Then he opens his mouth.

“You must be the precious cargo,” he grins. “We’re here to rescue you.”

“Cargo?” You gape, offended. “Did you just call me cargo?”

“Precious cargo,” he corrects, eye turning up in amusement before he focuses his attention back to the ability user who had attacked you. “Go handle that, pipsqueak. Make yourself useful for once.”

“Shut your damn mouth, bastard,” another male voice spits from behind you, voice riddled with irritation and anger. 

You look behind you to see another boy around your age with orange hair and mismatched eyes. He’s dressed more casually than the dark-haired boy, who’s wearing a black suit and tie beneath his long coat. He barely spares you a look as he steps forward, and you watch as his entire body glows red before he flies forward so fast that your eyes can’t even keep up with him. 

The gravity manipulator. You’ve heard of him through Kouyou—not much, but enough to know he’s probably the strongest ability users to exist in the eastern hemisphere. Does that mean…

The dark-haired boy turns his attention to you, smile widening as he leans over you. He looks unbearably amused at your predicament, and you find yourself growing more and more incensed by the second. 

“Dazai Osamu,” he greets. “You got a name, precious cargo?” 

Oh.

You recognize the name instantly, eyes narrowing, and as if he can sense your sudden change in demeanor, his smile starts to fall. Dazai Osamu. The Demon Prodigy. The Port Mafia’s Black Wraith. Mori brought him in two years ago, if the rumors you’ve heard hold any truth to them—after he sent you away to Kyoto with Kitada Usurai, one of the previous boss’s executives. 

You always wondered if the reason Mori never brought you back had something to do with his new protege—whether it was because he didn’t need you in Yokohama anymore now that he had “the Demon Prodigy” to be his heir or it was because he just didn’t want the two of you interacting. You never really minded; you like being in Kyoto and you like not having to be at the heart of every gang conflict that takes place in Yokohama but you can’t help the bitterness that rises now that your eyes have settled on the boy that took your place.

Before you can answer him, Dazai abruptly goes careening over to the left, hitting the ground hard. The orange-haired boy is standing where he once was, leg extended, and you realize that he must’ve kicked him away. 

“Stay there and die, won’t you?” he snaps, and you glance behind him, trying to figure out if he had already taken care of the ability user that had been hunting you down. Your lips part when you see him crumpled in a pile of rubble, unmoving. “Nakahara Chuuya. You can call me Chuuya. You hurt?” 

He extends his hand to you, and you take it gratefully, giving him your name and letting him help you to your feet. You stumble a bit, your left ankle buckling under your weight, and Chuuya wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. 

How embarrassing, you think, thanking him quietly before easing his arm away, standing on your own even with the pain in your ankle, not wanting to come across as weak. You make your way over to where the ability user is crumpled on the ground, kneeling in the rubble next to him. You lift your fingers to his neck to see if he’s still hanging on, but there’s no pulse.

You click your tongue, having been hoping you’d be able to take him back to the base for questioning, but instead, you let your fingers drift to the symbol embroidered on his jacket and then to the two bars embroidered onto his bicep.

Strain. 

The old lady and her grandson hadn’t been lying.

“You recognize the symbol?” Chuuya asks, wandering over to stand next to where you’re kneeling on the ground.

You frown instantly. “You don’t?” you ask dubiously, eyes narrowing again as Chuuya bristles at your comment.

“The conflict only just started a few days ago,” he says defensively. “We don’t have intel on all of the organizations that have showed up in the city. There are dozens of them. We’ve been more focused on trying to keep the civilians out of the crossfires at this point.”

A mighty fine job they’ve been doing at that, you think sarcastically, mind drawing back to the boy and old woman that helped you earlier and all of the destroyed buildings. You keep the thought to yourself, not too keen on antagonizing one of the people sent to get you out of this hellhole. 

“That’s why he brought me back here then,” you mutter more to yourself than anyone else, rolling your eyes as you grab the ability user’s walkie-talkie and rise to your feet. “He’s a member of Strain—one of their lower-ranked ability users, if the lines on his coat are accurate. From what I’ve gathered, they control Kanagawa-ku and Nishi-ku. We should get out of the open before their stronger ability users show up.”

“I can take them,” Chuuya says confidently, looking unperturbed by your comment.

“I’m sure you can,” you say dryly, “but how skilled are you at using nonlethal force against strong opponents?”

Chuuya only squints at you, which is as much of an answer as you need.

“If we want actual, useful intel, we’ll have to capture one of their higher-ranked ability users alive. I can get the information out of them, I just need the opportunity to use my ability.” You rise back to your feet, gaze shifting around the street to try to figure out where you should hide out for the night. “Plus, night is falling, and rumor has it, Strain has an ability user that’s particularly adept with umbrakinetic abilities and I would rather not run into him. I am already tired and wounded, and I don’t know how your gravity would interact with an element unaffected by gravitational forces so we can’t rely on your brute force.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have attitude?” Chuuya scowls, disgruntled by your blunt commentary, and you roll your eyes.

“No, actually,” you say, giving him a thin smile. “In fact, I’ve been told I’m quite pleasant. I’m just in a bad mood because I didn’t realize Mori would be having me return to a warzone when he called me back to Yokohama. I would’ve appreciated a bit of a head’s up.”

Your gaze drifts back to Dazai as you speak, curious, but the boy is already looking at you, a frown on his lips and visible eye sharp. As soon as he notices that you caught him staring, his face smoothes out and he cocks his head to the side, questioning, eye too black and too empty.

Your gaze slides away from him onto what seems like another residential building behind him.

“We’ll stay there for the night.”

You wake up with a pain in your back and a headache. The fact that your ankle doesn’t hurt as badly is only a minimal consolation as you push yourself into a sitting position and rub your forehead, disoriented and confused, trying to remember where you are and why you’re sleeping on a rickety bed.

Your gaze catches sight of a head of orange hair lying in the opposite direction of you, pillow at the foot of the bed and curled close to the edge of the mattress as if trying to stay as far away as possible from you.

That’s right. You’re back in Yokohama. Mori called you back to help with this conflict. Sent the gravity manipulator and the Demon Prodigy after you to make sure you got back to the base. Your eyes linger on Nakahara Chuuya for a moment, watching the way his chest rises and falls, soft puffs of air escaping his lips—he’s fast asleep, dead to the world. So, you let your gaze drift across the room; it’s dark, no lights on in fear of drawing unwanted attention from Strain scouts if they see any sign of life in one of the abandoned buildings. You can only hardly catch sight of Dazai Osamu sitting near a cracked open window, one knee tucked to his chest while the other hangs loosely at his side as he looks outside and smokes a cigarette.

There’s an indecipherable expression on his face—a heavy look in his eyes and a downturn curve to his lips. You watch him curiously for a moment. 

You’ve heard a lot about Dazai Osamu’s feats while stationed in Kyoto: ruthless, terrifyingly intelligent, willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. It took only a year of him being a member of the Mafia for him to be given control of Mori’s personal covert ops unit, and he’s been producing staggering results since. He’s the one who takes charge of eliminating organizations that you deem unworthy of associating with the Mafia but too problematic to keep around, the one who’s been opening up new distribution and trade channels for you to make use of in negotiations and acquisitions.

You suppose you’ve been working closely with him for a while now, even if the two of you have never interacted until now.

Still, the rumors that have spread about the boy are nothing to scoff at. The head of the Mafia’s interrogation unit—they say no one lasts more than five minutes in the same room with him before cracking. You’ve heard through the grapevine that the lower-ranked mafiosos are more terrified of him than any of the executives—see him as heartless and calculating, willing to sacrifice any one of them if it means furthering the Mafia’s interests. He only views people as tools, there’s no room in his black heart for meaningful relationships. No one trusts him and the longer he works for the Mafia, the darker and more unfathomable he becomes, even in the eyes of others entrenched in the dark—people keep far out of reach of him unless they have a death wish.

You study him carefully from where you’re sitting; he still hangs his jacket over his shoulders, like some sort of barrier from the rest of the world. His expression now is a far cry from the smile that had been on his face when you first saw him; his eye black and eerily still as he stares out the window, void of the gleam that had been in it before he noticed your reaction to his name.

You slide out of bed as quietly as you can, making your way over to where he’s sitting—he doesn’t even notice your approach until he catches sight of your reflection in the window, but even then, he doesn’t turn to look at you, only tracking you through the glass until you come to sit on the windowsill across from him. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him, pulling your knees to your chest.

“You shouldn’t sit at the window,” you finally say. “Someone could spot you.”

His eye is so black right now; you almost feel uncomfortable beneath his stare but you only raise your eyebrows. His gaze pointedly trails down to where you’d joined him and the corner of your lip quirks up.

“Fair enough,” you say and then hold your hand out, silently requesting for him to pass the cigarette over to you. Dazai stares at your hand for a moment and just when you’re about to draw your hand back, he finally reaches out to let you take it from him. Your fingers brush his as you take it between your index and middle fingers, the contact causing a spark to run up your forearm. You lift the cigarette to your lips and take a long drag, tilting your head back against the wall before you tell him, “You should go get some rest. I’ll take watch the next few hours.”

“Not tired,” he replies after a few seconds of silence. His voice is just as cold as the expression on his face, no hint of the playfulness from earlier in the day.

You hum, trying to decide what to say because he’s clearly unhappy and you have a feeling it has to do with how you reacted to hearing his name earlier, so you decide to be upfront, not in the mood for word games. 

“I think you’re unhappy with me because of how I reacted to hearing your name,” you say, laying out the issue. His gaze snaps up to you, sharp and narrowed, lips parting to deny the allegation but you don’t let him. “I was only surprised. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I have a bad opinion of you.”

“No?” Dazai asks, a sardonic lilt to his voice, goading more than anything else but you don’t fall for the trap. 

With your legs brushing, you can’t feel the familiar warmth of your ability circling through you and emanating around you, everything feels cold and empty instead, as if a part of you was sucked into a vacuum in space—the rumors must be true about him being a nullifier. You’ve never had to interact with people without your ability as a fail safe, it’s constantly active despite trying to learn how to turn it off. It’s useful though, it ensures that even if you mess up, the people around you are comfortable enough and amiable enough to not notice. They trust you without you even needing to do anything, adore you just because of the pleasant feelings your ability induces in them.

This is… different. 

And you don’t think in a bad way. You’ve always wondered what it would be like to interact with people without your ability interfering, it’s why you tried so hard to figure out if you could turn it off. And… it's nice talking to someone who’s not automatically endeared to you by your ability, who you can have normal conversation with without having to wonder if they’re only talking to you because you’re messing with their minds. Even nicer than you used to imagine.

“No,” you confirm. “I’m curious about you.”

The corners of Dazai’s lips turn down even more, brows furrowing at the comment. “Why?”

“You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“A monster,” you say the word absently, watching as Dazai goes rigid at it, staring you down. “A demon. It’s what everyone calls you, at least.” 

“... and what makes you think I’m not one?” he finally asks, jaw tight.

Your lips curl into an easy smile again. “If you were a monster, you wouldn’t have been so bothered by the idea of me not liking you. The desire to be liked is an exceedingly human trait.”

Even under the dim moonlight, you can see the way Dazai’s cheeks burn a rosy color at your words. He suddenly looks years younger as he fumbles for words, gaze averting from you back to the window, but his reflection betrays him. 

“I was not bothered by the idea of you not liking me,” he protests, defensiveness creeping into his tone as he snatches his cigarette right back from your hand as if to make a point, giving you a glare from the corner of his eye. “I was not.”

“You were also very clearly put off by the fact that I had no issue with Chuuya,” you note, biting back a laugh at the squeak-like protest that slips from his lips and the mortified expression that follows. “Jealousy, another exceedingly human trait.”

“I was not jealous,” he cries out, a bit too loud because from where he’s sleeping on the bed, Chuuya grumbles out a ‘shut the fuck up’ in his sleep. “I was not jealous.”

“It’s okay if you were,” you say, instead of indulging in his denial. “I’m not judging you.”

“I wasn’t,” Dazai hisses, more insistent now. “I don’t care if you like me or not.”

“Well, I do like you,” you tell him—honest, you’re having fun teasing him.

“You don’t even know me,” Dazai scoffs, cheeks still pink as he pointedly turns his face away from you. “You can’t like me.”

“I want to know you,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you observe him. You like observing things—it’s the easiest way of gathering information. You keep quiet, you don’t draw more attention to yourself than necessary. It’s how you’ve been able to thrive alone in Kyoto even with so many vultures circling you. “I don’t know many other people my age… none, really.”

Something strange crosses Dazai’s expression. Longing but hesitant. Wistful but reluctant, like he should know better but just can’t help himself from wanting. You’re good at reading people, you pride yourself on it; it’s another reason why you’ve been able to succeed in Kyoto alone. Dazai is difficult—he covers half of his face and he’s quick to school the other half when he slips up, but you’re observant. It’s what you’re best at. 

You wonder, maybe, if Dazai has his own vultures. You think he must, he’s young—like you—and it’s probably why he uses his reputation as a shield and wears his long black coat like armor in the same way you use honeyed words and wear a saccharine smile. So, the thought must be scary to him as much as it must be appealing—the desire to have someone see him put against the fear of actually being seen as he is. 

You know it better than anyone.

“Well, you can’t have Chuuya. Chuuya is my dog,” Dazai says firmly, raising his chin. “He follows my orders.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Your dog?” you ask dryly.

“My dog,” Dazai confirms, seemingly quite proud of himself. “I won a bet, and now Chuuya is my dog for life.”

“Must have been quite the bet,” you drawl, watching as Dazai brightens a bit at the topic.

“We had a contest to see who could figure out the culprit of one of our missions faster. I won, of course, because Chuuya is slow and dumb like a slug. A slug. Chuuya is a slug,” Dazai cackles, dark eye shining as his lips curl up into a wide smile, clapping his hands together. “I’m much better than Chuuya, you see. He’s a brute. He’s never had to learn to be smart or cunning because of his ability, so he just punches things around until he gets what he wants. Plus, he’s small—and if that’s not bad enough, he is more arrogant than his tiny body can hold. That’s why he’s my dog. He can’t do anything without his master’s orders.”

Dazai is not subtle in dragging Chuuya down to boast about himself, puffing out his chest like some prideful bird and lifting his chin as he speaks. You think that if Chuuya was awake to hear this, Dazai would find himself tossed right out of the window to fall two stories to the ground, but the other boy is asleep, blissfully unaware of Dazai’s rampage of insults. 

“What happened during the mission?” you ask curiously, a bit interested to know what’s all been happening in Yokohama while you’ve been gone.

Dazai looks surprised as if he didn’t expect you to encourage his yapping. Then, he lights up again. “I’ll tell you all about it…”

You wonder, maybe, if the rumors of his solidarity and inability to form meaningful relationships might not have stemmed from his own volition. Rather, you think they’ve been enforced by the people around him who refuse to give him the time of day in fear of his reputation, because right now in front of you isn’t some twisted and unfathomable wraith of the Mafia.

All you see is a boy the same age as you eager to have someone new to talk to. 

He talks all night. 

From the moment you sat there with him at two or three in the morning until dawn, you don’t think he shut his mouth once. You hardly spoke more than a handful of times, content to just lean your head against the window and listen to him go on about all of the missions he’s had since joining the Mafia a year ago—most of them involved Chuuya, and he certainly made a show of explaining in each one why the mission would have failed without Dazai there to guide it along.

“See. This is why he’s my dog.”

It’s not until Chuuya finally starts stirring as the sun crosses the horizon does he finally quiet down, seemingly not keen on getting himself launched out a window if the other boy happens to hear one of the unsavory stories Dazai’s telling you.

Then again, his first words are pretty much asking for it.

“About time you woke up, slug,” Dazai says cheerfully when Chuuya groans and rolls over, clearly starting to wake up. His dark eye gleams as he waits for Chuuya’s explosive reaction to the new nickname.

“Hah?! What did you just call me, bastard?” Chuuya snaps, although he’s quite slow in pushing himself out of bed, sleepy and disoriented, gaze swiveling around to try to land on Dazai.

“Huh,” you say, more to yourself than them. “He is quite sluggish in waking up.”

“What?!” Chuuya demands, head snapping toward you. 

On the other side of the window bench, Dazai snickers, looking mighty pleased with himself. He looks a lot more his age now, the tenseness in his shoulders has dissipated in the hours he spent talking to you, the tightness in his face has smoothed out. His eye is a lot wider and a lot brighter, the corner of his lip twitching as he waits to see what Chuuya’s going to do next. He sits closer to you now too—or, not closer, really, but he’s extended his legs out a bit as the night drew on until they were all but entangled with yours.

“You’re a slug, Chuuya,” Dazai jeers. “A slug. Because you’re small and slow. Aren’t I so brilliant?”

“I’m going to toss your shitty ass out the window,” Chuuya booms, throwing himself out of bed and darting over to Dazai, who evades Chuuya’s punch by diving off of the window bench, nearly taking you right with him considering his legs were stuffed between yours. “Get back here, you asshole.”

Dazai’s out of the room in an instant and Chuuya is chasing after him, spitting out curses and threats. You sit there for a moment, blinking, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened before just deciding to shake your head and rise to your feet. You stretch, body a bit sore from sitting in the same place for hours and tired from the little amount of sleep you got last night. 

You’re ready to get back to headquarters. You want to sleep in an actual bed and you want to drag Mori for his incompetence and nearly getting you killed. You miss Elise too, even if you don’t really like what she’s become. You’re just happy to not be alone anymore—being in Kyoto was… stressful, at best, and downright agonizing, at worst. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even your ability was enough to protect you there, you had no friends, you were lonely and constantly looking over your shoulder because you had no one to watch your back—even the other members of the Mafia in Kyoto with you would’ve turned against you at any given chance if it meant they could drag themselves higher up the hierarchy. 

You yawn as you leave the room, hearing the distant sounds of Chuuya kicking Dazai’s shit in. You make your way to the front of the building you guys had camped the night out, intent on getting a breath of fresh air before waiting for them to stop fucking around but you hardly get more than half a step out of the door before you’re pushed back hard against a nearby wall.

Your eyes widen when a figure manifests in front of you, particles of shadows knitting together to form a young man who seems to be a few years older than you. You barely withhold a sigh, realizing that despite all attempts to avoid him, you still managed to stumble right into the hands of Strain’s shadow manipulator—literally.

“I didn’t expect the cargo we got intel on to be a girl,” he says coolly.  “I almost didn’t believe it when Anderson reported it to me. Though I haven’t heard from him in hours, I assume that’s your doing.”

“You know,” you say lightly, “this is the second time in less than twelve hours that I’ve been called cargo. I think I like it even less coming from you.”

Though you’ve heard a lot about the shadow manipulator, you didn’t know what he looked like before now—he’s quick and elusive, and those who do manage to catch sight of him are killed by him soon after.. He’s not much older than you, though—two years max—handsome enough, pale blonde hair and green eyes with tan, freckled skin. 

Your lips curve up into a small smile. “Are you going to kill me or are you going to stand here with your hand around my neck? … Just so you know, I’m not into that.”

You watch as—just as you expect—he frowns deeply and takes a step back. He watches you carefully, brows knit together, and you let your ability work. Invisible threads wind around his limbs, curling up his neck twisting into his ears and nose and mouth, they curl up to his brain and take root, leaving him vulnerable to however you plan to use your ability.

You still have to be careful. You have to be subtle. Your ability is useful but it has its drawbacks—the biggest being that if you’re too sudden with it, the person you’re targeting can realize that you’re messing with their head and pull themselves out of it. That would be the worst case scenario because 1) they’d realize you have an ability and 2) you’d be in trouble. 

So you resign to just tilting your head to the side as you smile—some emotions are fickle, positive ones like love and happiness, especially among people like you who don’t often feel those emotions. Negative emotions are easier in that once you send someone into a spiral of fear, paranoia or rage, it’s almost impossible for them to draw themselves out, but they’ll inevitably realize that you had done something to their head, which is not an option because your ability needs to remain a secret.

So you decide to just rely on the passive form of your ability, watching as he falls victim to it, shoulders slumping and muscles relaxing as he eyes you curiously. Your ability is non-combatant, yes, but as soon as combat is over, it comes out to play.

He’d made a fatal mistake when he chose not to snap your neck.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” you say conversationally, hands behind your back as you tilt your head to the side. “They say you’re one of the strongest ability users in the world right now.” 

“I didn’t expect you to be a kid,” he says with a frown. “You’re what? Fourteen?”

You blanche. “I’m sixteen,” you protest, forgetting to keep up appearances as you stare at him, aghast. “I do not look fourteen.”

He makes a face as if he disagrees and then shrugs. 

Your eyes bulge. “I do not,” you repeat angrily. “I’m sixteen.”

“Whatever you say,” he says, amused. “I’m not in the business of killing kids though, so I guess I have to take you in. What a bother.”

Your eye twitches. You’d rather die than be taken hostage by Strain and you don’t know where your shitty escorts are so you settle for antagonizing him as a means to stall.

“You’re a high-ranking member of Strain, how are you going to sit here and tell me you’re not in the business of killing kids?” you sneer. “Your organization has been the cause of more child deaths than any other in the world.”

His eyes turn to slits as he stares at you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says coldly. “I put a stop to all of the rings in Australia myself.”

“And what? You think Strain is willing to just take those losses?” you say, an amused laugh bubbling in the back of your throat when anger flashes through his eyes. Your gaze flits down to the five lines embroidered on his jacket. “For an executive, you must not be kept in the loop by the rest of your comrades. The moment you dismantled the rings in Australia, they turned to strike a deal with Bunin—what do you think your branch in Russia does there? They’re helping Bunin expand his trafficking rings through the East and Strain cuts twenty percent of the profit.”

His hand snaps forward to grab your collar, yanking you toward him. “How would you even know that?” he spits, but from the conflict thinly veiled behind his eyes, you know that your words have taken root. 

You raise your eyebrows as you look up at him, a bit too close for comfort.

“How did you know I was coming back to Yokohama?” you counter instead. He lets you go immediately, withdrawing with a closed-off expression. “Come on, we’ve both been betrayed in some manner—you by your organization, me by someone within mine. I almost burned to death because of them and you… you’ve been working for an organization that’s been lying to you for years. Let’s help each other.”

“I don’t even know if what you’re saying is the truth,” he replies tightly. “I don’t-”

“Then go find out,” you say with an idle smile, “and when you realize I’m telling the truth, well… your ability is quite handy, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me again.”

He stares at you for a moment, expression indecipherable, but after a few long seconds, he disappears in the same swirl of darkness that he appeared in and you can finally relax. You let out a heavy sigh as your shoulders slump, lifting your hand to your neck, wincing at the tenderness.

You doubt that will be enough. You’ve heard rumors that he’s Yakuza-born—only ended up with Strain after Mishima’s Sun and Steel went to war with their syndicate—loyalty is always core to those types, runs through their blood—but at least you’ve planted the seeds, and when he inevitably finds out you’re telling the truth, he’ll come crawling back for more information.

And hopefully some information for you in return. 

Your gaze flits to the side when you hear a crash from your left, seeing Nakahara Chuuya fly out of the building, hands glowing red and eyes wide and wild, trying to seek out a man who’s already long gone.

You roll your eyes. “He’s already gone. Thanks for the help, O’Great Protectors,” you say sarcastically. “Really, you guys are amazing at your job.”

Chuuya has the decency to look ashamed, face flushing as red as his hair as he deactivates his ability and looks away from you. “Who the hell was that?”

“Itou Asahi,” you say absently. “Strain’s shadow manipulator—one of the strongest ability users in the eastern hemisphere right now. Mori brought him up a few times wanting me to recruit him. I didn't think I’d get the chance considering we’re aligned with the Sun and Steel and he hates them, but I might have an opening.”

Your look over to Dazai, who only frowns at your words, gaze trained on you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“You’re hurt,” he says, brows furrowed, and you realize he’s looking at your neck.

You drop your hand from where you’d been brushing your fingers against the sensitive skin, feeling distinctly too seen under Dazai’s heavy gaze. You don’t know why you feel a bit flustered, but you do and you definitely don’t like it.

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head. “Can we head back to headquarters now?”

Dazai frowns like he’s about to protest, but Chuuya nods before he can. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Headquarters is less than a mile away now. The streets that three of you are walking down are safe—none of the organizations have made it this far into the heart of Port Mafia territory—and yet for some reason, Dazai still feels incredibly troubled. 

He hasn’t even been able to join in on you and Chuuya’s conversation. He’s had ample opportunity to considering how much Chuuya is embarrassing himself by trying to act smart, but instead he finds himself trailing behind the two of you, an outsider, too lost in his own thoughts to even think of trying to make a snide comment.

Why is he so troubled?

Dazai isn’t sure and that troubles him too.

He’s always been very in tune with himself. His emotions, his motives, his wants and needs—they’re few and far between, yes, but Dazai has never struggled to pinpoint them at any point in his life. 

He was sad when his ability manifested and his siblings no longer wanted anything to do with him. His ability made them uncomfortable, made them feel empty because it deprived them of their own abilities. They said it was unnatural, and they said he must be unnatural too because why else would he develop such a terrible ability? Dazai couldn’t really blame them, his ability made him feel empty too—he theorizes that when it doesn’t have an ability to suck up into the black hole, it starts devouring anything else it can get its hands on, like his emotions, because he stopped feeling much at all after it manifested. 

When he was twelve, he wanted to learn how to play the piano to impress his mother, though he never got the chance to show her because she was killed soon after. He hasn’t wanted much of anything since then. 

When he was fourteen, his grandfather started pitting him, his siblings and his cousins against each other. His older brother drew the first blood against one of his cousins, and it was a bloodbath from there on out. With both of his parents dead and his siblings and cousins trying to kill one another to be named his grandfather’s heir, Dazai didn’t have much reason to live himself, and he definitely didn’t want to be killed by one of his siblings or cousins. 

So, he thought the next logical step was to die, so he tried to kill himself.

He failed, obviously, and ended up with none other than Mori. He still hasn’t found much of a reason to keep living. Chuuya is around, he supposes, and he’s entertaining enough to mess with—it’s enough to keep Dazai going for now—and you claim to want to know him, so Dazai is interested in seeing how that plays out, but that’s beyond the point. 

The point is that Dazai knows what Dazai wants. Dazai knows what Dazai needs. Dazai knows what Dazai feels. And Dazai currently cannot figure out why Dazai is troubled, so something is certainly wrong and he needs to figure out what it is. 

He hears you laugh at something that Chuuya said and barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. Nothing Chuuya says is ever that funny, so you must just be being polite, but it’s still annoying. Mostly due to the fact that Dazai can’t call it out because he doesn’t even know what was said because he wasn’t paying attention courtesy of his current dilemma.

He withholds a sigh as his gaze drops to your neck, eyes focusing in on the dark bruises lining your neck—the fingerprints of that ability user form Strain that attacked you when he and Chuuya weren’t around—and his irritation spikes yet again.

At once, a lightbulb goes off in his head.

That’s what’s troubling him. He’s found himself looking back at the marks on your neck on more than one occasion, and each time, it’s triggered his displeasure. He’s not sure why it took him so long to put it together, but now lies a new issue: why is it triggering his displeasure?

He squints as he stares at you hard, willing the answer to come to him. There must be a logical reason for it, he just needs to figure out what it is. He can see you looking at him from the corner of your eye, probably wondering why he’s staring at you so intensely, but Dazai just can’t rip his gaze away, fully intent on figuring out what his problem is right now.

Casualties are expected in this line of work. Dazai has never been one to think twice when people are hurt or killed in the line of action—he’s lost many subordinates to ensure the success of a mission and has even put his own life on the line if it meant that it bettered his chances of succeeding. So he should by no means be bothered by the prospect of you being wounded, especially considering he barely knows you.

“I want to know you.”

Dazai blinks as your words suddenly ring through his head again, startled by his own thoughts. His brows furrow even deeper because no, that can’t possibly be the reason why. He supposes it might be influencing it a bit because people who want to know him are few and far between, so the thought of meeting someone who actually gives him the time of day and almost losing them right away is unfortunate. It makes sense that it’s making him more irritable, especially when it’s something he’s curious to see play out and it’s something that could’ve been easily prevented.

Oh, he realizes, suddenly satisfied as he comes to an answer that he can quickly accept, disregarding everything else. 

That’s the issue—it was preventable. 

Dazai should’ve seen it coming and he should’ve been quick to take the necessary steps to avoid it. What he was feeling was irritability at himself, not at the fact that you got hurt. It wouldn’t make sense because Dazai doesn’t know you and even if he did know you, casualties are expected in this line of work. But you’re his assignment—his and Chuuya’s—Dazai has never failed an assignment before, much less with Chuuya, and he’d come this close because he’d recklessly let down his guard in enemy territory. 

It makes sense.

Much more than any of the other absurd explanations he’d been considering do at least.

This time when Chuuya makes a stupid comment, Dazai chimes in with some very necessary commentary, giving you a simpering smile and a wink before dancing out of the way of Chuuya’s much anticipated roundhouse.

Still, Dazai finds the troubled feeling returning again when his gaze drifts back down to the marks on your neck as he passes by the two of you with flourished spin, antagonizing Chuuya just to entertain himself with how red his face gets in embarrassment. 

But his gaze darts back up to your face quickly and he shakes off the unwelcome feeling, another quip on the tip of his tongue that abruptly dies when he sees your hand pressed to your mouth as you try to hide your amusement from Chuuya. Your eyes are turned up and your smothered giggles are just barely audible, the mid-morning sun casts an ethereal glow over your face and for a moment, Dazai is entirely stunned by the sight. He nearly trips over his own foot, and since he’s unsteady on his feet, he can’t avoid the way Chuuya predictably transitions from a roundhouse into a back kick.

He goes flying backward, all breath pushed from his lungs as takes the kick to the gut and hits the concrete hard a few feet away. He should be disgruntled, or he should at the very least retaliate with another mocking jibe, but instead, he finds his gaze fixed on you, watching as you finally burst into laughter, unable to contain it with the sight of Dazai sprawled out on the ground looking like a clown.

His heart rate spikes and Dazai’s hand flies to his chest, alarmed—becomes even more so when it doesn’t settle down. He rips his gaze from you to stare down at the ground, forcibly calming his heart and only when he’s sure that he’s got it under control, he looks back up.

Immediately, he loses control over it again, and this time it feels even more erratic, each thump resonating through his ears as you approach him, giggles quieting as you hold out your hand to help him up. 

For a horrifying second, Dazai thinks he might have a heart attack and that would be a lame way to go. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he does not have a heart attack, although that means he’s probably going to have to go to Mori when he gets back to the base—death may have been more preferable to that. 

Great, he thinks bitterly, not only has he had to deal with Chuuya for over twenty-four now, but now he’s going to have to go see Mori and figure out what the hell is wrong with him. Or you. He wonders if maybe you have an ability that’s somehow affecting him, that would be a serious issue for future missions that the two of you might be paired for. 

But it must be that—it’s the most logical explanation. 

What a mess the past day has been, but…

Dazai thinks it might’ve been worth the trouble, eyes lingering on you for a few moments longer before he takes your hand, taking note of the odd jolt that runs up his arm as soon as your fingers wrap around his hand to help him up. 

He doesn’t notice that even with your fingers locked with his, his heart still beats out of his chest. 

“Don’t tell me you’re over here reminiscing.”

You roll your eyes before looking over your shoulder to focus your gaze on an achingly familiar face. Chuuya drops lightly to the ground behind you, using gravity to soften his fall as he approaches you.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, folding your arms over your chest as a smile curves to your lips. “I was waiting for you.”

“D’aw, did ya miss me?” he asks with a sharp smile.

You have a retort ready to fly from your lips, but instead of speaking it, you sigh and let your gaze drift across the street in Kanagawa-ku that you’re standing in. Even after all of these years, the ground and buildings are still charred where that ability user had attacked you—faded now, of course, but you can still make out the faint remnants of the attacks.

Maybe you are reminiscing, you think to yourself, a heavy feeling settling over you. If you close your eyes, you can almost picture the rubble you were hiding behind, the jolt of fear you’d felt when you realized you wouldn’t be able to dodge the next attack, and then him.

And then Dazai.

“I did,” you admit, dragging your eyes from the ground to look back at Chuuya, whose smile falters a bit before softening.

“I can’t believe Mori had you abroad for three years,” he sighs, reaching out to squeeze your wrist. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Let’s head back to headquarters and have a drink. We can put on a movie.”

“Not one of your shitty horror movies,” you laugh, knocking your shoulder into his. You lean into him a bit as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, keeping it draped around you as the two of you start to make your way back to the base.

You hesitate—and Chuuya can feel your hesitation from the way he glances down at you, concerned. He frowns and asks, “What’s up?”

You let out a puff of air and then speak up reluctantly, “Have you… heard from him? Of him?”

You hate the twinge of hope that’s audible in your voice, despite how hard you tried to rid yourself of it. You hate even more the sympathetic look that Chuuya casts you; he knows who you’re talking about instantly—of course, he does, there’s only one person it could be—his lashes lower and his arm drops back to his side. 

“I saw him,” Chuuya says after a few moments. Your eyes widen as your head snaps toward him, waiting for him to continue. “... Met him. He’s part of the Armed Detective Agency now. Got himself captured by us to try to get information to help his new protege.”

“Oh.”

Your throat feels tight. Too tight. Swollen. Your eyes sting painfully and you have to force yourself to take a deep breath. The Armed Detective Agency. New protege. You don’t know if you feel bitter or relieved. Bitter because he’s found a place somewhere without you, relieved because he’s alive and okay. 

His defection still doesn’t even feel real after four years, it’s not like you’ve been in Yokohama long enough to fully process it, but god… you could still imagine him coming up behind the two of you with a snide comment to antagonize Chuuya, eyes trained on you to watch the way you laugh at Chuuya’s reaction. The wistfulness hits you so hard that it almost knocks the air from your lungs—not for the first time since he left, you yearn, you miss him, you want him, and now that you’re finally back in Yokohama after so many years abroad, it’s all the more intense.

How unfair, you think, nails biting into your palms as you stare ahead.

“Do you think he’s replaced us?” You try to keep your voice light, but you think you fail.

Chuuya lets out a bark of laughter. “He can certainly try.”

Your lips curl up at Chuuya’s words, gaze flickering down to the ground. “Yeah, you’re right,” you agree quietly before asking, “Did he seem… okay?”

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “I’m not talking about that shithead anymore,” he tells you. “I’m sure he’ll come looking for you now that you’re back. Let’s go home now, yeah?” 

The thought of Dazai coming to look for you makes your stomach twist with anxiety; after so many years apart, you just don’t know what to expect… but you suppose you’ve never really known what to expect from him, so you’ll just handle him the same way you always have. Except maybe not as kindly.

But you don’t have to worry about that yet.  Instead, you smile and bump shoulders with Chuuya again.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

[missfertileandferal]

lowkey super anxious to post this but im missing you guys so much <3

i plan on a solid return soon! i just wanted to get off my chest whats been going on:

Earlier this year, I dealt with an awful situation of my kinky stuff leaking into real life. My insane coworkers found my content and as I was serving on the clock, proceeded to show my customers and all the staff. then i was fired. Im traumatized to say the least but I over came it.

Come mid summer, I planned so step back for a little bit to move apartments no more than a couple weeks. What happened was both my job (i worked with close family friends so stressful) and a really bad situation with a companion found about my kink stuff. i never expected or was prepared for the humiliation, deception, and pain that would come from my fetish journey

My last job was such a loss. I had been blessed with a cute job as a medical office assistant without any credentials (i wasnt doing anything out of my capabilities of course) it was so peaceful and perfect compared to the drama of my last gig plus working with familiar people felt just like home honestly. Then I got covid. I was out for 2 weeks, at the same time i was moving into my new place. I tried calling them back to let them know I was cleared and ready to get back to work. I received a humiliating text. I was dismissed. That turned into a crippling anxiety of them confessing to my family what I do in my past time

The following week I was met with more disappointment. Ive said this before but I dont have many people in my corner. It used to suck to admit but I stand with pride now knowing those who are around me love me 100% regardless what I do or dont do.

One of my dearest dearest friends, who I had previously communicated what I do (not to a full extent they always respected it) called me very dramatically only a week before I planned to see them (they live across the country and we ALWAYS visit each other when in our cities) It still doesnt feel real tbh, the call only last 40 seconds. I was informed that “I was going on the wrong path” and could no longer be associated with. That’s alls that happened. 8 years down the drain

I was informed by outside sources that my hometown opps had gotten hold of my content (who my ex friend still associate with but I despise bc they’ve always been obsessed with me but in a bad way) and they had confronted him about being my friend. he pussied out and cut me off. they also mass reported my last instagram account😡🤬

I had to take some time back to seriously debate if these loses were worth it. I was swallowed with so much anxiety knowing that an uncomfortable amount of people in my zip code knew what ive been up to. its already complicated being into this and while at the same time not being in a plus size body. thats another conversation tho

That debate has turned into me accepting these events as the universe weeding out people/things that no longer serve me. This has shown peoples true colors, if I am not to be associated with because of my sexual freedom, body acceptance, and undoing of fat phobia then PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE.

Im recovering ❤️‍🩹 but my heart and hedonism can’t be helped. i love being a kinky lil gut slut. its helped me grow in so many ways from acceptance to living an esoteric dreamy life. i love all the hot girls and guys that i see on my timeline. they hype me up and vise versa. i love this little corner of the internet. my fellow freaks keep me going. i’ve been so on and off online but every time i come back to the sweetest words and support. thank you guys for your patience and consideration

my anxiety is to the roof as im typing. its crazy that these privacy problems havent been within the actual community. funny. if your still reading this I love you extra. ill be streaming on ig on my comeback day!

new ig acc @missfertileandferal💘

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🎃 Twst Halloween PSA 🎃

*pulls up the Serious Talk Chair*

Alright, so.

In the wake of the new Halloween PV posted on the TWST JP social media accounts, there’s been an explosion of hype. However, something else you may have seen circulating is people saying, "I already knew about this weeks ago!" and/or claims of having knowledge of leaked characters and costumes. Some have even directly linked to videos or images of these leaks (including fully animated character sprites) in threads discussing the next Halloween event. I myself have been sent these videos and images multiple times, unprompted, over the last few days.

To make a long story short:

You should NOT be speaking about or sharing these leaks in a public setting.

By doing so, you are running the risk of spoiling people who may not want to know these things in advance. They never gave their consent to see that, and this consent shouldn’t be assumed. I’m extremely disappointed that my own experience has been this way. I wanted the chance to react live as the information was being released. Others may feel the same as me. Additionally, openly talking about leaks is may make things more difficult for us fans in the long run.

The only reason these leaks were let out so early is because TWST started uploading assets into the game much sooner than they would actually be implemented. This has allowed dataminers in the fandom to go in and look around to see what goodies might be in store for the future. However, if fans are going to just run around blurting out what all the secrets are, it may discourage the devs from continuing to do this in the future. It will make it that much more difficult for fans to extract high quality card images ASAP. It means assets may be kept under tighter lock and key to prevent this from happening again.

Don't believe me? Something similar happened with the Japanese TWST website. The team used to upload news about the next month's schedule early, but locked behind a random string of numbers. Fans brute-forced those numbers and always managed to find the schedule sooner than it was intended to be out. The number of posts made on the website has now dropped drastically and schedules are no longer released on there. While there's no proof that these events are related, there is a real concern among some dataminers that the very same could happen regarding in-game assets.

I realize that leaks are common nowadays, but please let us at least respect other fans' rights to experience the game in their own way while also minimizing the risk of consequences for the fandom. If you must discuss these leaks at all, do it in PRIVATE. You are allowed to be excited about what's coming, but please keep it to yourselves or to your own circles where it may be a more appropriate topic.

Do not ask or talk about the leaks in my inbox, DMs, or comments. Do not link me to or share any leaks. Wait until the information has been released on official TWST social media handles, THEN I would be more than happy to talk about the news with everyone. Those who disregard this request moving forward will have their message deleted and then be blocked.

Thank you—and with that, let’s return to our regularly scheduled show!

[jesuistrestriste]

girl you're literally the best writer here. Please please pleaaaaaaase can you do a part 2 of fwb Art who gets attached to you quickly 🛐 I'M BEGGING YOU

< pt 2 to this >

well.

you caved.

goddamnit, you caved quick too.

as soon as those tears spilled down his cheeks and into the crook of your neck, it was over. you wonder if maybe he weaponized his emotions a little to get you to stay, but it doesn’t really matter now, does it?

you did as he begged for you to do; you stayed the night with him. you expected that maybe he would try to have sex with you again, but it never happened.

as soon as you agreed to not go back to your own bed, he pressed kisses over your neck and held you tight. he gave you one of his loose stanford tennis tees and a pair of his boxers for you to sleep in, and then he coaxed you under the sheets. no grinding, no handsy touches, nothing.

he just laid there with you, breathing softly and comfortably as he rested his head on your chest, and fell asleep. you stared at the ceiling for most of the night just thinking ‘what the hell have i just gotten myself into’. if only you’d had the strength to refuse him before, because now you could tell he was in it.

bad.

you wake up in the morning after a night of inner turmoil and feel a comfortable weight behind you. a ghost of warmth pressed up against your back, and oh god, he’s spooning you. his arms are wrapped around your torso and his legs are tangled with yours.

you try to very quietly shift out of his hold, grabbing onto the side of his bed and pulling yourself towards it, but he just whines softly in his sleep and then tugs you right back flush to his chest. you sigh. you cave again, and let him keep you.

the both of you stay that way for another thirty minutes before art nuzzles into your shoulder and starts to stir. he presses three kisses to your neck as he sits up, and then gazes lazily down at you with lidded eyes as he takes in the sight of your features in the sunlight creeping through his blinds.

he’s only ever seen you in the dark; after parties and in response to your 1 AM bootycalls. how could he have ever gone this long without seeing you like this? the way your skin shines, the depth of the color in your irises, the little crevices and dips in your nose and cheeks and chin that make you look like you were lovingly sculpted by the hands of an artist. like you were someone’s muse.

you can see it in the way he looks down to you.

there’s going to be absolutely no (easy) way to get out of whatever you just started with him. one night changed everything. at least in his mind, you were sure of it.

he reaches a hand up and brushes his thumb over your lips, studying you before he knows you’ll turn away.

and then his lips are pressing down to yours. a soft, sweet, tender gesture that says so much more than you necessarily want from him. he only pulls back to whisper one thing, his eyes holding the same—almost nervous—vulnerability that they had the night before when he had weeped a plea into your frame.

“so..” he chews the inside of his cheek, “can i make you breakfast..?”

…

oh boy.

[jasontoddproblems]

Pinstripes (1)

[Jason Todd x Reader]

Word Count: 2906

Summary: You take the leap and decide to introduce Jason to your new boyfriend.

A/N: No one has ever been more normal than Jason Todd. He's fine. He's totally fine. Stop looking at him.

Your apartment was still a chaotic whirlwind when Jason arrived, several dresses draped over the back of the couch, your usual purse contents emptied out on the coffee table next to an assortment of tiny, fashionable clutches. You barely took the time to open the door before fleeing back to your bedroom, your chosen dress for the evening technically on but still unzipped. 

“Hello to you too,” Jason called, trailing after you with much slower steps. 

“Hi, hello, how are ya?” you mumbled, shoving various makeup products back into a small floral bag. 

“I’m fine. You don’t seem to be, though. Wanna talk about it?” He dropped down on the edge of your bed, unbuttoning his suit jacket in the process. 

That seemed to catch your attention, and you spun quickly to face him.

“Yes. Tonight’s a big deal. You know that, right?”

Jason raised a brow.

“It’s just another Wayne Foundation gala. You’ve been to dozens of them. You’ve planned dozens of them. It’s your job, and you’re damn good at it.”

Despite the kind words, your lips fell into a frown.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He did know it, unfortunately. Because what you actually meant is that you were introducing your fancy new boyfriend to Jason tonight. Your New York new money, Gotham transplant, up and comer in the Gotham DA’s office with irritatingly private social media accounts boyfriend. 

“What are you so worried about? Help me understand,” he said patiently, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach that felt suspiciously like dread. It had no right to be dread. Jason wasn’t scared of shit. Certainly not a 30-year-old man with an overly-gelled comb over. 

“I haven’t ever introduced anyone to you before,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I feel… weird about it.” 

“This was your idea. If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll just drop you off and go home. You can tell him I’m sick or something.” 

Because honestly, Jason wasn’t looking forward to this either. You were right. You’d never introduced anyone to him in the almost ten years you’d been friends. You’d dated here and there, but never anything serious enough that you bothered with… all this. And Jason didn’t love the fact that you were bothering with it now.

“No, no. I need to stop putting it off. It’s important,” you said, sitting beside him. “I’m just… nervous.”

“I can see that,” he whispered, gesturing around at the disaster zone that was your room and earning an elbow to the ribs in the process.

“Just be nice,” you pleaded, moving to stand in front of him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. 

“I will.”

“Jason.”

“I will!” he repeated with a laugh.

You still didn’t look convinced, eyes slightly narrowed and a cute little pout on your lips. 

“I’m serious. Please. I know how you can get.”

“Okay, what does that mean?” 

“You can be a little… quick to judge.” You hurried to continue when you recognized the flash of hurt in his eyes. “Not me! And not even most people. But like… when you see someone doing something you don’t approve of, you kind of…. Have a hard time letting that go sometimes.” 

“Because you let it go too quickly,” Jason said, brief memories of your past relationships passing through his head like a very convincing powerpoint. “I balance you out.” 

There was the one who stood you up and didn’t call you until the next day to apologize, rattling off excuses that all could have been easily communicated while they were happening. Jason had refused to call him anything other than Ghost Boy for the remainder of your relationship.

Then there was the one who documented his every movement on social media to an alarming degree, always taking pictures when the two of you were together and posting them with cringey, coy captions that had made Jason roll his eyes so hard they hurt a little bit afterwards. He’d named him The Tourist.

And there was no forgetting Small Dick Energy 1, 2, 3, and 4 who had all had huge issues with your best friend being a man in general, and Jason Todd of the Wayne family specifically. You hadn’t seemed aware of the actual problem, just the symptoms: showing off, being obnoxiously vocal about your relationship when you preferred privacy, a dozen different instances of insecurity, becoming possessive and clingy especially when you wanted to make plans with your best friend. It had been very clear to Jason that he was the problem. And he found he didn’t particularly mind it. You deserved better anyway.

“Meet me in the middle,” you requested, squeezing his shoulders to regain his attention. “And I’ll try to meet you in the middle too.” 

“I can try…” Jason said slowly, smiling despite himself when you patted his cheek in approval.

“That’s all I ask. Zip?” 

You turned, standing perfectly still while Jason zipped up your dress, taking the extra time to fasten the tiny hook and eye clasp at the top for good measure. 

“All set.” 

“You’re the best,” you said easily as you moved back toward your vanity, sorting through your various tubes of lipstick.

“I know. It’s a curse.” 

You snorted but didn’t argue, turning once again to present him with four different shades of lipstick. 

“Which one?”

“What color are your shoes?”

“Black.” 

Jason tapped the deep burgundy.

“Ooo. Going bold tonight,” you commented, tossing the others back in your makeup bag.

“You don’t have to,” Jason said with a shrug, but you were already leaning into the mirror, carefully smoothing the rich color over your lips.

“No, I like it.” 

Things moved more quickly after that. You made Jason pick out your purse while you put on your shoes, and he chased you to the front door with a bottle of perfume Bruce had bought you last Christmas.

The ride was quiet. Jason had opted for the Wayne’s favorite car service tonight, since you were attending a public event. It always made you a little uncomfortable, carrying on a conversation as if there wasn’t a third person in the car. You texted each other instead. 

Jason didn’t protest when you directed the driver to the service entrance of tonight’s ritzy hotel venue. Even though you were technically a guest tonight, you’d earned enough favor with the staff of every fine event venue in the city to get special treatment. Including a way in that avoided the paparazzi stationed out front. 

“Can’t believe you sprayed me with that stuff,” you groaned as you led Jason down a service hallway, plucking at your dress with dissatisfaction. It was nicer than what you usually wore when working these events, but not by much. Still unadventurous in color and cut, designed to help you blend in. 

Jason caught your hand, gave it a comforting squeeze before releasing it.

“Do you not like it?” he asked, eyes wide with artificial innocence that made you scoff. 

“I smell like an old rich lady,” you complained. 

“Gonna break Bruce’s heart, talking like that. I’m pretty sure he actually picked that out himself.”

“Well we’re not going to tell him, are we?” 

He caught your hand again, intercepting it before you could fuss with your hair. 

“Will you stop? You look amazing. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You sighed, pausing before the door that would let you into the hotel ballroom and brushing your hands over your dress again.

“Easy for you to say.” 

Jason frowned.

“Hey,” he said softly, guiding your chin up until you were meeting his gaze. “Tell me how to make this easier for you.”

That alone seemed to do something, tension beginning to ease from your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Just…”

“Be nice. I know.” He offered you his arm with an encouraging smile. 

“I mean it.” 

“I’ll be so nice he’ll fall in love with me, and you’ll regret ever introducing us.”

“Well, I believe the second part of that statement,” you laughed as he led you through the door and into the ballroom. By the look of things, about half of the invitees had arrived, small groups of business magnates, socialites, and philanthropists forming along the edges of the room to network and gossip and generally be seen together. 

“Rude,” Jason said drily, smiling when you pinched his bicep in retaliation. “Alright, where is this guy?”

“Umm…” You stretched up to your tallest, peering around at the near-identical suits around the room. “Right over there!”

He followed the direction of your gaze to 

“Is he wearing pinstripes?” 

“Jason.”

“I’m not being mean! I’m asking a question.” 

“Fine. Yes, he’s wearing pinstripes,” you said, flashing a bright smile as the man in question met your eyes and started making his way towards you.

“To a charity gala?” 

“I told you he was coming straight from work.”

“You did. Except the lines of that suit are too sharp for him to have been wearing it all day. Which means he changed into a pinstripe suit. For a charity gala.”

“Stop using your weird observation powers to be a bitch.” 

“You love when I - ”

“Well not right now I don’t. Cut it out.”

“Does he think he’s on Wall Street? Or a Law and Order rerun?”

“Jason.” A fierce whisper, accompanied by a sharp elbow to the ribs announced the arrival of your boyfriend, and Jason let out a sigh of defeat. 

“There you are!” 

The voice was, irritatingly, pleasant. A voice fit for radio. Or campaign videos. 

His greeting was smooth, polite, moving you from Jason’s arm to his own with subtlety and a kiss to your cheek. 

“You smell nice. New perfume?”

Jason bit down hard on his lip to contain a laugh, flashing innocent eyes at you as you glared at him over your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Did you send my staff into a panic by turning up early?” you asked.

“Early is on time,” he replied, with the intonation of a phrase often repeated. “On time is late.” 

“I don’t think that rule applies to parties,” you laughed. 

“Definitely doesn’t apply to Wayne parties, anyway,” Jason added, snagging a champagne flute from a passing waiter and handing it to you. 

“Oh, thank you! I suppose now’s the time for introductions...”

“You must be Jason,” the other man said, holding out his hand. “Sorry, is it Todd or Wayne? I’ve seen it both ways in the paper.”

“Todd,” he said firmly, reaching to accept the offered handshake with a bit more strength than was strictly necessary. “Unless I need a last minute dinner reservation. Or I want to meet a famous person.” 

He knew how to play this game. Kind of. He’d seen Bruce and Dick play it often enough, anyway.

“Good for you,” the other man said with a polite laugh. “Making use of your connections. I’m William Woodley.”

“Middle name?”

William tilted his head curiously, but appeared unfazed.

“Samuel.”

Jason clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Was hoping for another W.”

Take that, asshole. 

William gave another news anchor-esque laugh.

You looked faintly confused. 

“Well, I’ve heard a lot about you. Good to finally meet you in person.”

“You’ve got the advantage then. I only started hearing about you last week.”

Your sharp gaze bit into the side of his face, and he was sure if there was a subtle way to do it, you would have stomped on his foot for good measure. And he deserved it. That was too clumsy of an insult to land properly. 

“I can’t blame her,” William said, turning his full attention on you until your eyes softened again. “I’ve wanted to keep her all to myself too.”

Gag. Damn, he was good at this. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Jason asked, though you’d already told him the story. Twice.

“We - Oh, pardon me. Is that the mayor? Darling, we should go introduce ourselves,” William turned to you, eyes bright with excitement. 

“I’ve met him,” you said patiently. “Several times. And last week, I’m pretty sure his wife called me the help, so I think you stand a better chance at a good impression if you go without me.”

His eyes scanned over you quickly, assessing, smile beginning to slip.

“Oh. I don’t… I don’t have to go. We could find a different group to join.”

“It’s alright! Go ahead.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ll be fine! I still have Jason.”

It was Jason’s turn to be assessed, though more cautiously. 

William gave a noncommittal hum, dropping another kiss to your cheek and whispering something Jason couldn’t hear before heading off towards the growing crowd of sycophants surrounding Gotham’s mayor. 

“Well, that was quick.” 

“Why are you being weird?” you asked, an overly-polite smile on your face as you watched William make his way across the ballroom. 

“I’m not being weird.” 

You gave him a flat look. 

“I’ve never met one of your boyfriends before! I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.”

“Like a human person, preferably,” you muttered, taking a long sip of champagne. “Like yourself, would be nice.” 

Jason’s sigh was drowned out by an enthusiastic voice calling out your name. 

“Seriously?” he complained quietly. 

Dick Grayson bounced up on sunshine and smiles (and expensive booze), snatching up your hand and guiding you into a graceful twirl before you could even say hello.

“Good to see you! You look lovely.” He dropped a gallant kiss to the back of your hand. “What did it cost you to get Jason in the building tonight?”

“I asked nicely,” you said, with a fond smile. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Funny, I always ask nicely for things - ”

“You do not,” Jason cut off, rolling his eyes. 

“Never works for me!”

“Well, she’s prettier than you.”

“Rude,” Dick said before turning to wink at you. “But fair. Was that William Woodley from the DA’s office you were just talking to?”

You blinked in surprise. 

“Uh, yes. He - ”

“He’s her boyfriend.”

Something in Dick’s brain seemed to glitch, and his eyelid twitched.

“Interesting! When did that happen?”

“What do you mean interesting?” you asked suspiciously. 

Dick hummed, rolling back his exuberant public persona as he searched for the right answer.

“Is he not a little… serious? For you?” 

“Have you met my best friend?” 

“Jason’s Jason. It’s different,” he said, waving you off.

“What does that mean?” Jason asked, feeling like he should probably be offended. This night was already giving him a headache.

“William’s sweet,” you defended. “And it’s kind of nice to be with someone more serious. He knows what he wants.” 

“Sure…” Dick slipped the champagne flute out of your hand, handing it to Jason. “Think you need that more than she does. You look like you tried to eat a snail. Again. I’m gonna go charm more rich people out of their money. Have fun!”

He turned away after a hard clap on the shoulder, taking only a second to identify his next target before he was off again, shouting out someone else’s name with his arms wide open.

Jason drained the rest of your glass, trading it for a fresh one which he handed to you. 

You took it without looking, your eyes once again fixed on William through the crowd and your perfectly-painted lips tugged into a slight frown. 

That was Jason’s fault, at least partially. And he knew it. 

He took a deep breath.

“You should go ask him to dance,” Jason said, plastering on his most convincing  smile when you glanced at him curiously.

“Why?”

“Because you’re a guest, they just started playing a new song, and you’re supposed to be having fun.” 

You tapped the edge of your champagne flute absently.

“Yeah… but he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities like this. And he doesn’t really like to dance, I don’t think.” 

Jason took your glass back, giving you a little nudge.

“He will if he knows it will make you happy.”

“You’re being sweet,” you said, tone nearly accusatory as you look over your shoulder at him.

“How dare you. Would you get outta here?” 

Your eyes narrowed a little, but you smiled anyway.

And Jason watched you make your way through the assorted guests, watched you come up beside William, your hand gentle on his shoulder. Watched the way his eyes lit up, the bright beaming smile he aimed at you. Tried, really really hard, to think you two looked like a good match. Tried to be happy for you. 

But your own soft smile faded after a few exchanged words, turned into something plastic and polite that clashed with the disappointment he could see in your eyes even from across the room. 

Something tightened in Jason’s chest, and he let out a slow breath. He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know how to fix this, how to make you happy. Not anymore.

What he wanted to do was shove everyone out of the way until he could stand right next to you. He wanted to steal you away into an alcove, make rude jokes about the elitist guests until you laughed, until champagne threatened to come out of your nose. He wanted to dance with you. Because he knew it would make you happy. Because your boyfriend wasn’t. 

Because Jason Todd had been your best friend for ten years. And he’d been in love with you for eight. 

*****

A/N: Help, I'm gonna LOSE IT! What do we think, besties? Is this anything? Come chat!

[pickingupmymercedes]

A smile like that - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: playful, silly and sassy

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Lewis was smiling and so were we❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

I should’ve known what would happen the moment I sent that text.

So, the secret ingredient to you is a shitty Friday and some drama, then?

When Lewis has something to prove, he really proves it. Not just to himself, to the entire world.

And in typical Lewis’s fashion, he doesn’t miss an opportunity to boost about it, even when I’m literally working.

I’m properly miffed as I storm into his driver’s room—no knock, no warning. Just righteous annoyance, fully loaded and ready to fire.

I can’t let him get away with this one, I tell myself. Not today.

Not after that ridiculous Instagram post. I was working, for God’s sake. Interviewing drivers, doing my actual job. And he’s out there, posting photos like it’s some romantic movie.

I should stay mad at him for at least a good ten minutes, minimum. Really drive the point home this time.

But as I catch sight of him, slouched on the couch with that ridiculous grin, my resolve wavers.

Damn it. It’s like trying to stay mad at Roscoe.

He’s still in his Mercedes shir, looking far too pleased with himself, his braids peeking out from under his cap, sweat glistening on his forehead.

Honestly, it should be illegal for someone to look that good after sweating like they do on those cars.

“Oh, hey, love,” he says casually, not even bothering to look up.

Oh, we’re going with casual now.

I close the door with a deliberate click and lean against it, crossing my arms. “Do you want to explain yourself?”

He finally looks up, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What?”

I scoff, unfolding my arms as I march toward him, pulling out my phone with the offending evidence.

“This” I practically shove the screen in his face. It’s his Instagram post, the one where he posted a photo of himself gazing down at me in the media pen with: Had to make sure her smile was also because of me.

It takes all my restraint not to groan aloud. Because honestly, the audacity.

Lewis leans back, completely unfazed, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You were smiling though?”

“That’s not the point, Lewis,” I deadpanned, even though, yes, I was smiling.

But of course I was. It’s impossible not to when he’s around, and that’s exactly the problem?

I hate how he does this to me. One minute, I’m determined to stay mad, the next, I’m grinning like an idiot just because he threw me a smile. It’s infuriating, and yet…

Yet here I am, standing in front of him, and no matter how much he drives me up the wall my traitorous heart does a little somersault because he’s sitting there, giving me that crooked smile like he’s some damn rom-com lead who just said the most heart-melting thing in the world.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together like he’s gearing up for a negotiation. “It’s totally the point.”

I blink at him. “You seriously posted this just to see if I’d show up here?”

“Well…” He pauses, his eyes flickering over my face as if he’s gauging just how annoyed I really am. “That, and because of your text earlier. You know, the one about my shitty Fridays ?”

I raise a brow. “That was sarcasm.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, not buying it for a second. “I was just making sure you had a smile like that for me, too.”

God, he’s infuriating.

I huff, but it’s weak. “You know, I was working. Like, interviewing drivers. Doing my job.”

Lewis stands up, taking slow, deliberate steps until he’s standing right in front of me, way too close for comfort—except it’s always comfortable with him. “And one of us was making sure the most important person in the room was smiling.”

Oh. Great. He’s bringing out the charm now.

“You’re unbelievable” I mutter, but there’s no heat behind it anymore.

“And yet, you’re here” he says, stepping even closer, his hand brushing against mine.

I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch, betraying me. “Don’t get used to it.”

He smirks. “Too late”

I let out a long-suffering sigh, even as my heart betrays me, pounding a little faster.

His hands find my waist, warm and steady, and with one gentle tug, I’m pulled into him.

I tell myself I’m still annoyed, but the way his fingers trace small circles against my back makes it impossible to hold on to that thought for long.

The scent of sweat and his signature cologne fills the small space between us, and I hate how comforting it feels.

I should be making a point here.

Instead, I find myself leaning into him, my cheek pressing against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding my own.

Because it’s Lewis, and no matter how annoying or cocky or insufferable he is in these moments, I’m always going to melt when he holds me like this.

And should I say it? The words are there, right on the tip of my tongue.

Once I say them, there’s no going back to the easy banter, no covering it up with another snarky remark.

But he deserves to hear it. Especially today.

I lift my head slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. His teasing grin has softened, replaced by something quieter, something that makes my chest tighten.

“You know,” I murmur, my voice a little more vulnerable than I intended, “I’m really proud of you.”

He freezes for just a second, his eyes searching mine. And then his grip tightens, just slightly, like he’s anchoring himself. “Yeah?” His voice is soft, cautious, like he doesn’t quite believe it yet.

“Yeah.” I nod, the corners of my lips tugging upward despite myself. “Never doubted you, not for a second.”

For a moment, something flickers across his eyes, and I know this means more to him than he’s letting on.

Lewis can put on a front, make jokes, tease all he wants, but deep down, this sport is his entire world, and today had been a good day.

After a Friday where nothing went right, after a car that was fighting him every step of the way, he still pulled through. And I’m proud. Proud because I know how much it takes, how much he gives.

He lets out a breath, resting his forehead against mine. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

I grin. “Part of the job, remember?”

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against my skin. “I’m still gonna hold you to that smile thing, though.”

I snort. “You’re so needy.”

It’s ridiculous how comfortable being in his arms is—how easy it feels, even if it shouldn’t.

I tilt my head back slightly to meet his gaze again, my hand sliding up his chest to rest just above his heart.

“So,” I say, my tone casual but laced with a hint of something more, “tomorrow…”

His eyes darken with interest. “Yeah?”

I give him a coy smile. “I could make it worth your while if you get a win.”

He raises a brow, his grip on my waist tightening. “Oh? And what exactly does ‘worth my while’ entail?”

I shrug, playing it cool. “Guess you’ll have to win to find out.”

He groans dramatically, leaning his forehead against mine again. “Now I’ve got pressure.”

“You love it though” I tease, throwing his words back at him.

He pulls back slightly, eyes narrowing playfully. “I’m holding you to this.”

“Good. But this is if you win.”

He pouts, an exaggerated look of defeat crossing his features. “Podiums are awesome too! Come on, at least give me top three.

I tilt my head, pretending to think about it. “Hmm, tempting… but no.”

He shakes his head, but he’s grinning now, his dimple making an appearance. “You’re ruthless.”

“And you love it” I say again, and this time, I mean it in more ways than one.

“Okay,” he says, his tone amused “but when I win, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re that confident?”

He smirks, leaning in just close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. “You just gave me one more reason to be.”

There it was again, that damn confidence. How was I ever supposed to resist that?

The heat of his body seeps into mine, making my pulse quicken, and for a second, I realize he’s the one with all the control here.

“Good,” I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. “Now go do whatever it is you do here.”

He watches me with amusement as I head toward the door. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah. Some of us have work”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable”

“Stole my line Hamilton” I glance over my shoulder, giving him a wink “But now you’re the one smiling.”

______________________________________________________________

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[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 4

Summary: Wanda and R have their first date ;)

Wanda: Sorry I missed you before you left for work. Wanna come over for dinner with us?

Y/N: Would love to :)

“You’re awfully cheerful for someone who just got dumped” Darcy says as you smile at your phone.

“Who got what?”

“Carol and Maria…”

“No one dump me, there was no relationship to end” you say, locking your phone. You have noticed that Carol has been avoiding you, which is pretty idiotic, considering a lot of the trauma cases that come your way are ortho related.

That would also explain why Kamala rambled so much every time you requested a consult, so you made a note to speak to Carol about it.

“So…” Darcy ponders, and you wish she’d just drop it. She snaps her fingers. “The hot mom!”

“Her name is Wanda, and we are just talking” you refuse to look at her, knowing she can smell the bullshit from miles away.

“Something tells me talking wasn’t the only thing you did with your mouths” she insists, pulling on your sleeve.

“Fine! We kissed and it was awesome! Happy, you little pestering gnome?”

“Yes, lesbian whore. Congrats on securing a ticket to MILF paradise”

“Fuck you”

“Doctor Y/L/N” Kamala enters the room as you give Darcy the middle finger. “I can come back! Sorry!”

“Look what you’ve done” you mumble as Darcy cackles. The joy doesn’t last long, as you steal her chips. She’s too distracted making fun of you to notice.

“Hey, not fair”

You close the door and go after the resident.

“Hey, Kamala”

“Oh, hi. Doctor Danvers asked me to show you some X-Rays”

“Tell Doctor Danvers to show me herself. Or better yet, I will go directly to her. Where can I find her, Doctor Kahn?”

“Uh… I…”

“Never mind, I’ll ask Maria” you turn to leave  and Kamala screeches in horror.

“OR 2. She’s in OR 2. Please don’t do it, my Baba will never forgive me if I get kicked out of the program” the young doctor clings to your arm.

“Kamala. Get it together. It’s gonna be fine. If Carol gets mad, you can be in my service for a week” you promise and she barely stops hyperventilating.

By the time you reach the OR, Carol is done with her surgery. She stops in her tracks when your eyes meet.

“Doctor Danvers, a word?” you ask, trying to sound professional.

“Of course” she nods. Leading you to an empty scrub room, Carol opens the door for you, fidgeting. “What’s up?”

“Stop making everything so awkward. I’m not mad at you. Kamala is about to have a stress induced stroke from all the consults you send her to avoid me”

“You’re really not mad?” Carol says.

“No! I never expected anything else from you. We didn’t talk about it but I always knew what your true feelings were”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, honestly. Just, stop acting like you left me at the altar or some weird shit. We’re colleagues and friends”

“That makes me happy. I didn’t want to stop talking to you” she relaxes. “Though I have to be honest, I told Maria what happened between us”

“Is she mad?”

“Only a bit and just to me. I’ll manage to turn it around” the blonde smiles, a dreamy look on her eyes.

“If it helps, tell her I have a date on Thursday” you say, leaving the room, Carol right behind you.

“Oh, let me guess. The hot mom?” she jokes.

“Her name is Wanda!” you repeat.

“Well, let me know how the date goes?” Carol pats your shoulder, and you nod.

“Will do. Now page your resident and tell her we’re all set before she gets admitted to the Psych ward”

—

The footsteps approaching on the other side make your heart jump. You wonder if the flowers are too much, but when Wanda sees them, her face lights up and you know it was the right thing to do.

“Come on in” Wanda says, taking the flowers and then standing on her toes to kiss your cheek. “The boys are in the living room”

“Want some help with the food?”

“No, I’m almost done. It will be more helpful if you entertain the twins for a little” she says, pulling the flowers close to her chest.

“Alright, then” you’re about to kiss her when the boys walk in. They’re so excited to see you that they don’t notice how close you are to their mother.

“Y/N” Billy says, running towards you.

“Hey, kiddos” you pick them up, carrying them over your shoulder and they giggle. “Come on, there’s a new game I wanna show you”

You take your time to set everything up, explaining a bit about the game. They giggle as Crash jumps and turns in the sand of the first level, and you finish it all, including the tricky jump at the end.

“Who wants to go next?”

“Me” Tommy says, sitting next to you. They are both focused on the game, so you take advantage of the distraction to go see Wanda.

Sliding into the kitchen, you grab her by the waist.

“You scared me” she laughs, allowing you to press against her back, kissing her temple. “What’s going on?”

“I have approximately fifty seconds before they ask for my help so I’m making sure they count” you turn her around and lean forward, capturing her lips and sighing against her mouth. “You look very pretty”

“Thank you”

“You smell really nice” you add, kissing her again, making Wanda laugh. “And I really, really, like kissing you”

Wanda smiles at that, her hand caressing your cheek.

“Y/N!” the boys chant in unison.

“Like clockwork” you mutter, kissing Wanda’s forehead as you go back to the living room.

You spend a few more minutes playing with the kids, until Wanda calls everyone for dinner.

“How’s the arm, kiddo?” you say, sitting next to Billy with Tommy and Wanda in front of you. As you take a bite of the chicken, you notice a funny flavor. “Is this brocc…”

Wanda widens her eyes and kicks you under the table.

“Ouch”

“You ok?” Tommy asks, none the wiser.

“Yeah, I just bit my tongue” you lie, Wanda taking a sip of her water to hide her laugh.

“Kids, eat” she encourages them, and you get the hint. The flavor of the broccoli is hidden with the cheese, so you smile and continue to eat, enjoying every single bite.

“I’m on cleaning duty” you say as soon as everyone finishes, taking the dishes and cleaning the table.

Billy and Tommy run to the living room to continue playing, and as you get ready to wash the dishes, Wanda leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“It’s nice to have you here”

“You have an odd way of showing it, Miss Maximoff” you joke, leaning against her touch.

“In my defense, it’s the only way to get them to eat their greens” she jokes and you lean forward, your lips inches away from hers. In that precise moment, the boys call for her.

“Behave” she warns the children, pulling away to see what the fuss is about.

“Have you thought about boarding schools?” you joke and she pinches your side. “Ah, kidding! I would miss them too much”

You load the dishwasher, clean the pots and put the rest of the food on some containers. By the time you’re done, the kids are getting ready to go to bed.

“Can you come over again tomorrow?”

“If your mom wants me to, sure. I can bring the food this time so she takes a break from cooking” you offer, smiling at Wanda.

“We’ll see about that, Y/N works hard enough as it is. Say goodbye to her, boys”

Tommy and Billy wave at you, already dragging their feet. You stay on the living room, and a few minutes later Wanda comes down.

“Hi” she plops down next to you and you smile.

“All good?”

“A bit tired, that’s all. Just ignore me, you’re the one that works all those crazy hours”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m used to it by now” you shrug your shoulders.

“Would you like some wine?”

“Sure, I don’t have work tomorrow”

“How come?” Wanda asks when she returns, handing you a glass of red wine and sitting closer to you on the couch.

“Well, I have a really hot date coming up and I need to plan every detail”

“She sounds like a lucky girl” Wanda blushes, biting her lip.

“Oh, I’m the lucky one” you say, placing both of your glasses on the coffee table. “She’s smart, funny, has legs for days, cooks amazing food…”

“Stop” she laughs, and you shake your head no. Wanda is still laughing when you connect your lips with hers, a sigh leaving her mouth when you lift her and place her on your lap, her legs straddling you.

“Is this ok?”

“Yeah” she nods, leaning her forehead against yours. “More than ok. As a matter of fact, I remember reading that kissing is good for your health”

“It’s so good” you say, your lips traveling to her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck. “I’d say do it as often as possible”

“Doctor’s orders?” Wanda jokes, her voice faltering as you come back to her mouth, your tongue swiping across her bottom lip.

“Doctor’s orders”

—

The plan is coming along. You have the tickets for the exhibit and the next thing on the list should be the dinner reservation. Your pager beeps the minute you call the restaurant. 

911.

“Shit” 

You sprint to the car, knowing no one would call you outside of work if it wasn’t serious. 

“What’s wrong?” you walk to the ER, looking around.

“What on Earth is this?” Tony Stark, neurosurgeon and professional asshole gets in your face the minute you get there.

“I don’t know, I’ve been off work since yesterday, Stark” you take the chart, reading all the information until you get to the signature. The writing got progressively worse, until it was just senseless lines.

“This person was clearly having a stroke, and the staff didn’t notice. I have to scrub in and see if I can save his life”

“And you’re wasting time arguing with me” you roll your eyes, pushing the chart to his chest and walking to the OR.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To scrub in. If you want to blame me, that’s fine. I’m staying by this patient’s side until he pulls through”

“If he pulls through” Stark says angrily and you ignore him. 

Before scrubbing in, you check your phone.

Wanda: Is everything ok? I saw you leaving in a hurry. 

“By all means, take your time” Stark says, glaring as he walks by you.

You spend the entire surgery in his OR, standing still and doing everything he asks. He’s a rude, pretentious cunt, but if anyone can work a miracle, it’s him, so you suck it up and take every snide comment with a blank stare.

After hours working, Tony sighs, nodding at his work. 

“Close him, Parker,” he asks his resident. You stand watching the young man’s work, until the surgeon asks you to come with him.

“I’m sorry” he blurts out the minute you step out. “This wasn’t your patient, nor your responsibility. And I made it seem like it was”

“It’s still not right. If I had been here, I would have noticed”

“I know. Your work is impeccable” he acknowledges and you nod. Even if he’s an ass, this is the hospital his father built, and he’s a genius with years ahead of you in experience.

“Will he be alright?”

“There’s a good chance he’ll pull through. Let’s be cautiously optimistic. I’ll let Parker explain everything to the family. Sorry for interrupting your days off”

“Not a problem” 

“It’s the first time you’ve taken PTO in 3 years. Fury’s gonna have my head for making you come” Tony says, laughing.

The patient is moved to the ICU, but you’re still not comfortable leaving, so you go back to the on-call room, sitting in a bed to gather your thoughts. Yelling in the hallway makes you stand up, watching as Parker tries to speak to a man and his wife. 

“You discharged him, said he was fine” the man yells, pointing at Peter’s face. 

“Sir, I can assure you, we’re doing our best to make sure your son…”

“We wanna see him now” the man takes Peter by his coat, almost lifting him off the ground. The young man stutters, not knowing how to deescalate the situation.

“Hey, that’s enough” you step in, not realizing the man is about to throw a punch until you make him drop Peter, his elbow connecting with your cheek.

“Crap, Doctor Y/L/N, are you ok?” Peter says, rushing to your side.

“Yeah, fine”

Fucking fantastic. 

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to wait in the foyer, or I’ll call security” Carol steps in, glaring at the man. She waits until he’s gone, muttering an apology your way. “You ok?”

“Mhm, great”

“I thought you had a few days off”

“Yeah, me too”

“Come on, let’s have a look at that punch” Carol says, dragging you to one of the exam rooms. You sigh, trying to keep your eye closed. “No stitches needed”

“Great” you mumble, pulling out your phone. There’s like five messages from Wanda but before you can answer, she calls you.

“Hey”

“Hey, are you ok? You had me worried”

“Yeah, there was a thing at the hospital and I… ouch! Carol, a little warning?” you hiss as the blonde pours some disinfectant on the bruised skin.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were busy” Wanda says, her demeanor changing. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait, Wanda!” you say but it’s too late, the call cut off. “God, could this day get any worse? I have to go”

“Want me to drive you there?” Carol says with a smile and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah. That will make Wanda so happy”

“Whipped” Carol jokes and you try to glare, but it hurts your eye.

Wanda barely put the kids to bed, when she hears a knock on the door. She’s prepared to give you an attitude but then sees your swollen cheek.

“Oh, my God, what happened to you, are you ok?” the brunette says, immediately forgetting she’s mad at you.

“It’s a long story. But that doesn’t matter. Listen, I know how it seems, I tell you I’m busy and when you call me I’m with Carol”

“I know you work together. It’s fine” Wanda lies.

“No, it’s not, come on”

“Ok, just come in and explain everything while I get you some ice, ok?”

“Thanks” you mutter, sitting at the kitchen counter. You fidget with your hands, not looking up until Wanda comes closer, her eyes soft as she moves the hair out of your face.

“Cold” she warns, placing a compress against your skin. You sigh with relief, holding her hand close.

“I’m sorry. I was called in to fix something I didn’t break”

“Don’t apologize for doing your job, Y/N” she says in a soft voice. “Is everyone ok? Is that how you got hurt?”

“Everyone’s ok. The parents were just pissed and I tried to break the fight”

“Does it hurt?” Wanda pulls the compress and examines the skin. It’s a little bruised, but not too swollen.

“It will later” you sigh.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You can kiss it better”

“Is that what Carol was doing earlier?” Wanda tilts her head, a dangerous look in her eyes that sends shivers down your spine.

“Oh, come on! Not fair!”

“I’m kidding” she says, finally kissing you softly. You close your eyes, relaxing for the first time in 12 hours. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, you were saving lives”

“What you feel is valid. Don’t apologize for it, ok? I’ll always listen to you, I promise” you kiss her hand, smiling when she blushes. “We’re still up for our date, right?”

“We can reschedule, you must be exhausted”

“Not a chance” you say, pulling her closer again. “I’ve been waiting too long for this”

“Well, alright. If you insist” she pecks your lips and you nod.

“I do”

“I have an… odd request” she says, avoiding your eyes.

“I won’t kink shame you, I promise”

“Can you be serious for just a second?” Wanda laughs, taking your hand. You make a motion to keep quiet, and let her speak. “Can you… pick me up around the block?”

“I can. But why am I doing it?”

“First of all, if the kids see you, they’ll want to tag along. And also… I’m not trying to be pessimistic here, I just want to protect them. It’s been the three of us since they were born and I’ve never even dated anyone, let alone someone they know” she takes a deep breath, hoping you won’t get upset.

“Billy and Tommy come first, always” you nod. “I agree to the new rule, or I can wear glasses and a fake mustache”

“Nope” she shakes her head, covering your mouth with her hand.

“A bald cap then” you mumble against her palm.

She figures the only way to make it stop is by kissing you and she leans forward, her lips against yours. You smile dreamily as she pulls apart.

“Now. Would you like some dinner?” Wanda offers, and you almost drop to your knees.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect, Wanda Maximoff”

The way she blushes and giggles makes up for all the shitty things that happened in the past hours.

—

“There’s food and snacks, a list of phone numbers on the fridge in case of an emergency”

“Yes, Mrs. Maximoff,” Morgan says, following the woman around the house. It’s her first time babysitting the twins, but Wanda has known the girl since she started giving her private art lessons and trusts her.

“Boys, I’m leaving” Wanda calls, the kids standing up from the table to hug their mom goodbye. “Be good to Morgan, ok?”

“Where are you going?” Tommy asks.

“A work thing” she lies, feeling terrible about hiding the truth from the twins. But still, she knows it’s for the best to keep this private.

She waves goodbye one last time and walks past the house, noticing your car is no longer in the driveway. Her heart beats fast at the expectation of an evening together.

“Hey, gorgeous” you greet, leaning against the passenger door. “You look absolutely stunning”

You admire how amazing she looks in a pair of jeans, a white tee and a long sleeve sweater.

“So do you” she kisses you, smiling as you open the door to the car.

“Thanks, the purple eye gives my look a nice touch” you say as you begin the drive.

“Are you gonna tell me where we are going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough” you say, hoping she likes the surprise. “First stop” you announce, opening the car door for Wanda and looking at the building in front of you. 

“Artechouse. Oh, I’ve heard about this” Wanda nods, intrigued.

“I did too, but never made the time to go. Come on” you lead her to the entrance, showing your tickets. “There’s a small bar if you wanna have a drink before we go in” 

“Let’s go in now” she says, looking everywhere. 

You think it’s a good sign that she’s so interested in the exhibit, so you lead her to the start, both of you gasping as you enter a room that is projecting videos of flowers from floor to ceiling. Wanda’s hand searches yours in the dark, and you smile shyly as she holds it, walking around the room.

The intimacy of the place allows you to come closer, sharing everything you see in a low voice and enjoying the show. 

“Check this out” you say, lifting your arm, the animation following your movements. Wanda lets out a laugh, doing the same.

Each room enchants Wanda even more, the next installation featuring plants that react to the touch with light and sound. Your favorite by far is the tree that reacts differently if you’re holding hands or hugging. As you walk up to it, Wanda is still holding your hand and you both look at the screen. Well, she’s looking at the projection and you’re looking at her, thinking how beautiful she is. 

Taking a step forward, your arms go around her waist and you smile, admiring how the images change.

“It’s beautiful” Wanda whispers, turning to you. “You’re not looking” 

“I have the best view right in front of me” you smile, happy when she kisses you softly.

Wanda takes her time examining everything and once she’s done, you walk to the exit. 

“That was amazing. I forgot how much I enjoy these things. Thank you, Y/N”

“Glad you liked it” 

“Best first date I’ve had,” she smiles.

“Oh, this is only the first part. You don’t really think I’d forget about the food, right?” 

“Where are we going?”

“Well, there’s a very fancy option but I don’t feel like going with this thing on my face” you point at the bruise, annoyed. “If you’re feeling adventurous we could try something different?” 

“You look perfectly fine, darling” she kisses your cheek. “But I’m up for an adventure, so lead the way” 

“Awesome” you hold her hand, walking down the street and away from the museum. This is your favorite part of town, close to the pier and the little shops that are open until late. 

You walk down the promenade, showing Wanda some of the places you love. There’s a small gallery, a cafe, and other shops. 

“We’re here” you announce, pointing excitedly at the kebab shop. “This is fine, right? We can still go to the fancy place if you like”

“Sorry this place isn’t fancy enough for you, Majesty” the owner pops out of nowhere, scaring you.

“Samir! That’s not what I meant. You know I love your food”

“Mhm” he glares, but then smiles at Wanda. “What can I get for you, angel?”

“Well, what’s good here?” Wanda wonders, not as familiar with the dishes. “Maybe a shawarma” 

“How about a kebab box, fries to share and a doner” you suggest, “And her shawarma, of course” 

“That’s a lot of food” she protests and you shrug your shoulders.

“I’m always eating leftovers before I leave for work so it’s fine, babe” 

“Oh, well” she wants to scold you about your eating habits, but the pet name makes her dizzy. 

You pay and lead them to a small table outside, unaware of Wanda’s flustered state. You hand over a soda and open your can, taking a sip.

“We can go to other art shows whenever you want, you know? Even if I don’t understand anything, I do enjoy watching you” you smile, laughing as Wanda’s cheeks go red at the comment.

“I did enjoy it, thank you. You come here often?”

“I do, I love the food here. Samir noticed I came late because of my shifts and he always saved me some food. Nice fella” you turn to make sure he’s not listening. “But I promise I’ll take you to dinner to that other place when I don’t look like a raccoon”

“You don’t have to” 

“I kinda want to see you in a dress, all fancy like that time you left for another date” you smile at the memory of how beautiful she looked.

Wanda’s heart bursts with the way you look at her, complete adoration in your eyes. She’s almost left speechless, but her phone saves her. 

“It’s my brother” she apologizes, taking the call. “Hi, Pietro. No, I’m not with them. Because, I’m out. Of course with a babysitter, stupid” she rolls her eyes, and then switches to a language that you don’t understand, but sounds like Russian. You look at her in awe, until Samir calls for you to get the food. By the time you’re back at the table, Wanda already hung up.

“Sorry about that” 

“No, don’t worry. I guess I never asked, but are you Russian?”

“Sokovian” she corrects. “We moved to the States when Pietro and I were ten” 

“Wow. I never… you don’t even have an accent” 

“It slips up from time to time, especially if I’m angry or… flustered” Wanda says, and you almost choke on the food, thinking of all the ways you could make it come out. 

“Oh, well” you clear your throat. “Is your brother ok?”

“Yeah, he wanted to ask the boys something about video games that I don’t understand. I’m sure you would” 

“I don’t know, my knowledge is limited to things that existed when I was a kid. How’s the food?”

“Amazing. Wow” Wanda says, pleased with the flavor of the meat and how it compliments the rice and dips.

“See? We’re good enough for a first date” Samir shouts from the kitchen.

“Stop listening to our conversation” you shout back and he grumbles. Wanda smiles, thinking of something she’s wanted to ask for a while now.

“Do you ever visit your family?” 

“No, not really” you shake your head. “I pretty much left for college and never returned. Except this one Christmas, where I was feeling kind of lonely and tired. I just wanted to be home, but everything was so different, my half siblings were just too much to handle for anyone… and I didn’t even know what to do, no one bought me a present because I was never around and they just thought I’d be gone like last year”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked…”

“It’s fine” you shrug your shoulders. “I know it’s weird, but I like my life, you know? My colleagues are great, I’m doing what I love… and if I hadn’t moved here, I wouldn’t have met you”

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s their loss” Wanda smiles, kissing you. You smile against her lips. “You can always spend the holidays with us, you know? I mean, it’s too soon to talk about it, I’m just saying”

“That would be nice” you interrupt her rambling. “Now, I have something very important to ask. Out of all the neighbors, which one is the most annoying and why?”

“Well, I’d say it’s… Agatha”

“Harkness! Yes! I knew you disliked her too” 

Wanda laughs and you keep the conversation going. By the time you’re done, you pay and leave a big tip for Samir, who gives you a hug as you leave the store.

“I’m so full” Wanda says, patting her stomach. 

“I know. Oh, you want ice cream?” you say, remembering the gelato store that is a few shops ahead. 

“You just said you were full!”

“It’s ice cream, come on” you take her hand, and pay for two cones. Wanda orders strawberry while you opt for chocolate.

“How is it?” you ask as you walk down the pier, enjoying the view. 

“Amazing, have some” she offers the cone, but you kiss her instead. “That’s not what I meant” Wanda laughs against your lips.

“Well, it tastes amazing to me” you say, leaning forward and chasing after her soft lips, the flavor lingering as you deepen the kiss. Wanda sighs against your mouth, pulling you closer until your hand goes down her waist. “Best ice cream I’ve ever had” 

“Yeah” Wanda nods, her eyes closed. You peck her lips one last time, and continue your walk, still talking about everything you can think of, enjoying each other’s company.

When she checks the time more than once you get the hint, ready to go home.

“I’m sorry, I’m just being annoying, we can stay longer” 

“It’s ok, I know you like to be home early. Come on, we can drink wine or I’ll let you go to bed”

You rest your hand on Wanda’s leg for the entire ride home, unaware that your touch is making the woman restless. When you’re close to your house, you stop exactly where you picked Wanda up.

“I can just park at home, right? The boys are probably asleep”

“Yeah” Wanda nods, flustered. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when she moves forward, pulling you down for a rough kiss that takes your breath away. It’s a bit messy and desperate, and you ignore the strain of your seatbelt as Wanda pulls you closer to her, sighing against your mouth.

“You can’t park here!” an annoying person knocks on your window and you both break apart. “Oh, my! Wanda? Doctor Y/L/N?”

Damn it, it’s Agatha Harkness. Your nosy, annoying neighbor. Rolling down the window and smoothing your clothes, you smile at her.

“Hey, Miss Harkness. Sorry, I’ll move right now” 

“No, don’t worry” she gives you a sly smile. “Have a good night, you two love birds”

“Night, Agatha” Wanda says and you turn on the car, finally parking in your driveway.

“That was fun” you comment, opening the door for Wanda and crossing the street to walk her home.

“Yeah, just our luck” Wanda laughs, taking your hand. “Wanna come in? Or do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Not until Saturday. Come on” you let her lead you to her house, opening the door as quietly as possible. Wanda sees Morgan at the kitchen table, doing her homework.

“How did everything go?”

“Great, they went to sleep an hour ago” 

“Morgan Stark?” you greet, closing the door behind you. 

“You two know each other?” Wanda says.

“Yeah, my parents work at the hospital with Doctor Y/L/N” Morgan says, waving at you. “Nice to see you” 

“Did you drive here? Or want me to take you home?” 

“It’s fine, I drove here” she says, and you hand over some money before Wanda can pay her. 

“Drive safely, ok? Don’t want your dad giving me crap on the next meeting”

“Will do. Good night, Miss Maximoff”

“Night, Morgan”

“You didn’t have to pay for that too” Wanda says, kissing you. “But thank you” 

“Anytime. How do you know Morgan?” you nod when she offers you a glass of wine and you walk to the living room with her.

“I’m giving her private art lessons. She’s really good. Had no idea her parents were doctors”

“Not just any doctors, baby” you say, taking a sip. “Tony’s father built the hospital we work in. And he’s done some amazing research in neurosurgery. Pepper is also one of the best plastic surgeons in the world” 

“Wow, Morgan is so sweet and down to Earth”

“She gets that from her mom, Tony can be an ass” you mutter and Wanda laughs. “So, did I secure a second date?”

“A third one as well. But only if I can pay for the next one”

“Nu-uh. I’m spoiling you, baby” you say, your hand going to her leg. You notice how Wanda’s cheeks turn red, and you’re not sure if it’s the nickname or the contact. “Come here”

You take her glass of wine, approaching her slowly and kissing her. It’s tender at first, but then your hands travel to her lower back, and Wanda moans against your mouth. You deepen the kiss, sighing when she pushes you on your back, climbing on top of you.

Wanda kisses down your neck, biting slightly. The sudden nip makes your hips jolt forward, and she has to hold back another moan.

“I don’t know how you do it” she says, shivering when your hands travel down and cup her ass through her jeans.

“Do what, baby?”

“Drive me crazy with just one touch”

“Let me take care of you” you ask, kissing her, your hands going all the way to the front of her pants.

“Mom?”

“Shit” she mutters, both of her hands covering your mouth. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m thirsty,” Tommy says.

“Alright, don’t come down, I’ll be right there, ok?” she says, hoping the boy hasn’t noticed anything strange. But he’s too sleepy so he just agrees and returns to his room. “I’m sorry”

She removes her hands from your mouth, helping you up.

“It’s fine, I enjoy the choking but just give me a heads up”

“Stop” she says, blushing. “I’ll be right back. Unless, you want to go? I’m sorry”

“I can stay” you nod, smiling at her disheveled state.

“Alright, I’ll be back” Wanda promises, pecking your lips.

You sit up, fixing your hair and taking a sip of the wine to calm down.

“Everything ok?” you say as Wanda comes down. She nods, smiling and sitting next to you.

“Yeah, I just didn’t think they’d be up. Maybe… we could wait a bit? When I’m not worried about the boys walking in on anything”

“Of course. Come here” you open your arms, and she settles, leaning her head against your shoulder. You kiss her temple. “Wanna watch some tv?”

“What about a sitcom? I love watching those”

“Like Friends?”

“Like Bewitched or… The Dick Van Dyke show” she says and you laugh, completely caught off guard by the suggestion.

“You’re fascinating, Wanda Maximoff” you say, handing over the remote, ready to watch whatever she wants.

[fyiin7]

You must be haunting me..!

⋆˚✿˖° In which you're forced to join the ghost hunting at the haunted house with your friends, but then they left you with the lingering ghost.

⋆˚✿˖° Pairings: Ghost!Satoru X Fem! Reader

⋆˚✿˖° SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), missionary, p in v, swearing

It's kinda long, but enjoy ;D

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

The soft hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filled the cozy little restaurant as you sat with your friends. It was one of those rare moments when the four of you managed to gather around a table without someone running late or bailing at the last minute. The smell of freshly cooked ramen filled the air, and you were halfway through a steaming bowl when Nobara spoke up, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"You guys know about that old haunted house, right?" Nobara's voice cut through the conversation like a knife. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, her usual boldness giving way to an almost mischievous grin. "We should totally go check it out tonight."

You paused mid-bite, glancing between Yuji and Megumi, unsure if she'd just suggested what you thought she had. Yuji, ever the thrill-seeker, looked intrigued already. He set down his chopsticks and shot Nobara a grin. "Ghost hunting, huh? I'm in! It sounds like fun."

Megumi, however, wasn’t sold. He raised an eyebrow, the usual calm expression on his face hardening slightly. "That place? You mean the one everyone says is cursed?" He sighed, clearly conflicted. "I don’t know, Nobara. People have gone in and… well, weird things happen."

Nobara waved her hand dismissively. "C'mon, Megumi. Weird things always happen when you look for them. It's just an old house. What’s the worst that could happen?"

You could see the hesitation in Megumi's eyes as he looked at you, like he was silently asking if you were going to back him up on this. But then Yuji nudged him with his elbow. "Don’t be such a buzzkill. It's just one night, and it'll be over before you know it."

Megumi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, but if something actually happens, don't say I didn't warn you."

As they turned to you, all eyes locked onto yours, you could feel the weight of the decision pressing in. You weren’t exactly eager to spend your night in a house famous for scaring the living daylights out of anyone who dared enter. But with your friends clearly set on going, it was hard to see a way out of it.

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Whether you like it or not, you'd still need to join anyway. The house stood before you like a shadow of its former self, tall and looming, with broken windows and peeling paint. The air around it seemed unnaturally still, as if the night itself held its breath. The old iron gate creaked in the wind, and the overgrown lawn looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. A cold chill ran down your spine as you stared at the dark structure.

"Well... here we are," Yuji said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

Nobara grinned, her excitement unshaken. "Perfect. Look at this place! It's just like one of those haunted houses from the movies. We’re definitely getting some good stories out of this."

Megumi sighed, his eyes narrowing at the house as though sizing up an enemy. "This is a terrible idea."

"You already agreed, remember?" Nobara teased, nudging him. "Don’t chicken out now."

You stayed quiet, your gaze locked on the front door that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. The longer you stood there, the more the oppressive atmosphere of the place seemed to weigh on you. It was as if the house was watching, waiting.

"Alright, let’s do this," Yuji said, breaking the silence as he pushed open the rusty gate, the screeching sound making you wince. He led the way with a flashlight in hand, illuminating the narrow path that led to the entrance.

As the group walked closer to the house, every step seemed heavier than the last. Nobara was practically bouncing with excitement, while Megumi lagged behind, his eyes scanning every shadow, every movement.

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you approached the front door. There was no turning back now.

The air inside the house was thick with dust and the faint scent of mildew. Each step you took echoed through the empty hallways, but after a while, the fear you felt outside began to fade. The house was silent—too silent—but as time passed, nothing unusual happened.

“This place isn’t so bad,” Yuji said with a forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “All those stories must’ve been made up.”

“Right?” Nobara added, glancing around at the cracked walls and sagging ceiling. “A haunted house, my foot. I bet people just freak themselves out.”

Even Megumi, who had been tense the whole time, seemed to relax a little. “Let’s just hurry up and leave. We’ve seen enough.”

You nodded, relieved that the visit might end without anything strange happening. But just as you were about to agree and suggest heading back, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway behind you—footsteps that didn’t belong to any of you.

You froze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. Yuji, who had been walking a little ahead, turned to face the hallway behind him. “Did… Did you guys hear that?”

Before anyone could answer, the unmistakable sound of footsteps grew louder. Then, at the far end of the hallway, a pair of glowing blue eyes appeared, floating in the darkness. The light from the eyes was dim at first, but as they grew brighter, the air around you felt colder, heavier.

Nobara’s bravado cracked, her voice trembling as she whispered, “What the hell is that?”

Without warning, Yuji let out a panicked yelp and bolted down the hallway. “Nope! I’m out!” His footsteps pounded against the wooden floor as he sprinted ahead.

“Yuji, wait!” Nobara called after him, but the fear in her voice betrayed her own nerves. She and Megumi quickly ran after him, disappearing around a corner.

You stood frozen for a moment, the glowing eyes still fixed on you from the other end of the hall. A cold sweat ran down your back, and you turned to chase after them. But before you could make it to the hallway's end, the door to the room you were in slammed shut with a deafening bang.

You grabbed the handle, twisting it frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. “Guys?” you called out, your voice breaking as you pounded on the door. “Guys, the door’s stuck!”

But all you heard in return was the faint echo of your voice, swallowed by the heavy silence. The glowing eyes vanished, leaving you alone in the dark room, the air around you suddenly colder than before.

Your heart raced as you tugged at the door, desperate to get it open. Panic surged through you, but before you could call out for your friends again, you felt something else—something cold. Icy fingers wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you away from the door.

You gasped, struggling for breath, your heart hammering in your chest. Every muscle in your body tensed, but when you turned around, the sight before you made your breath hitch in an entirely different way.

Standing before you was a man—a ghost, no doubt about it. His skin was impossibly pale, almost glowing under the faint light of the room. His eyes, an eerie yet mesmerizing shade of blue, twinkled with mischief. A sly smile curled on his lips, and though the chill from his touch still lingered on your skin, there was something undeniably handsome about him.

"Whoa there," he said, his voice smooth and playful. "Where do you think you're going, running off like that?"

You blinked, your mind struggling to process what was happening. His arms stayed casually wrapped around your waist, holding you close in a way that felt far too intimate for a ghost.

“Who… who are you?” you stammered, trying to push back, but your movements were weak under his steady gaze.

He tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Name’s Gojo Satoru,” he introduced, his voice laced with confidence. “And you are… definitely not supposed to be here.”

You swallowed hard, trying to pull your thoughts together, but he made it impossible to focus. “W-what do you mean?”

Satoru’s grin widened as he leaned in a little closer, his cold breath brushing against your neck. “I mean, a place like this isn’t meant for someone as cute as you. So what brings you to my humble, haunted abode?”

The way he looked at you—how his gaze roamed over you like he was savoring every second—made you painfully aware of just how touchy he was. Even though his skin was cold, his hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, fingers lingering as though he were still alive and not some phantom.

Your face heated, though you weren’t sure if it was fear or something else. “We—my friends and I—we just came to check out the place.”

Satoru chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Curiosity’s dangerous, you know. Especially around here.” His voice dropped into a teasing tone as his other hand lightly brushed your hair back from your face. “But then again, I can’t say I mind having a little company.”

You were flustered, torn between the chilling realization that you were talking to a ghost and how undeniably charming, even flirty, he was. Every word he said dripped with playful teasing, and his constant touch only made your pulse race faster.

“Are you always this... forward?” you managed to ask, trying to regain some composure.

Satoru smirked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “When I see something I like? Absolutely. Besides…” His hand trailed down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone to talk to. Might as well enjoy the moment, don’t you think?”

His playful, flirtatious demeanor wasn’t helping your already frazzled nerves, but despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the strange pull he had over you. He was a ghost—he shouldn’t feel so real, so present. And yet, here he was, teasing you, touching you like you weren’t separated by life and death.

Satoru's arms stayed firmly wrapped around you, his presence overwhelming in the stillness of the room. His smirk widened as he studied your flustered expression, clearly enjoying your reaction. He leaned in a little closer, his breath cool against your skin.

“You know," he drawled, his voice dripping with playful mischief, "it's pretty naughty of you to be in here alone... with a male ghost, no less."

You blinked, his words sinking in. Alone? Your gaze quickly flickered around the room, only now realizing where you were standing. The creaky old bed in the corner, the tattered curtains, and the musty scent—it wasn’t just any room. It was the bedroom.

Your face burned with embarrassment, and you tried to pull away, but Satoru held you firmly in place, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Something wrong?" he teased, eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched your discomfort. "I thought you’d be more adventurous, sneaking around a haunted house at night. Or were you hoping for a different kind of thrill?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but his words caught you off guard. Before you could speak, Satoru tilted his head slightly, his voice softening into a low, seductive whisper. “Tell me, have you ever thought about... experiencing something new?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean?”

The grin on his face deepened, and without answering, Satoru leaned in closer. His hand moved from your back to cup your cheek gently, his icy fingers sending a shiver down your spine. His face hovered just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop. The air felt thick, charged with an intensity you hadn’t expected.

“What I mean,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly, “is something like this.”

Before you could react, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was surprisingly soft, but undeniably electrifying. The coldness of his touch contrasted with the warmth that suddenly bloomed in your chest, and for a second, the world outside that room ceased to exist.

Satoru’s kiss was slow, teasing, as though savoring the moment. He was a ghost, an ethereal being, and yet somehow, he felt so real, his presence so tangible that it made your head spin. You couldn’t tell if it was the fear, the surprise, or something else entirely, but you felt like you were sinking deeper into the strange, thrilling connection that held you both together.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes gleamed with playful mischief. “So… how’s that for something new?”

Before you could even gather your thoughts or catch your breath, Satoru leaned in again, this time with far less patience. His lips crashed against yours in a rougher, more urgent kiss, one that left no room for hesitation. Your breath hitched as his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, the chill of his touch seeping through your clothes.

The softness from before was gone, replaced by an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body. His kiss was deeper, more demanding, like he was claiming you in that moment, and despite every rational thought screaming at you to push him away, your body betrayed you, rooted in place by the magnetic pull he had over you.

The sensation of his lips, cold yet somehow fiery with passion, made your head spin, your mind blanking out everything except for him. His fingers trailed up your back, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin as his mouth moved against yours, not giving you a second to process what was happening.

Satoru broke the kiss for a split second, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he whispered, “You taste even better than I imagined.” His voice was low, husky, dripping with a teasing tone that made your heart pound even harder.

Before you could respond, before you could even catch your breath, he was on you again, his kiss rougher still, like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands roamed your body, cold and possessive, as though he was determined to make sure you wouldn’t forget this—wouldn’t forget him.

And with the way your body reacted, you weren’t sure you ever could.

Without warning, Satoru's hands tightened around you, and with a swift, effortless motion, he pushed you backward. You stumbled, barely managing to gasp before your back hit the mattress, sinking into the creaky old bed. The springs groaned beneath your weight, and you stared up at him, your heart racing.

Satoru loomed over you, his pale face framed by the dim light filtering through the cracked window. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and something darker, more primal. His grin widened, satisfied with how easily he had you at his mercy.

Satoru grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your lacy bra. He took a moment to admire the sight, before straddling your waist, his hands gripping both of your wrist together with his hand.

"You're mine now," Satoru growled, his voice thick with lust. "I'll take what I want from you." He pressed a kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin, before trailing his lips down to your collarbone, making your breath hitched and let out a small whimper. "And tonight, I want to fill you up with every drop I have."

Satoru's hands roamed your body, unfastening the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the side. He leaned in, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it, before switching to the other one. His hips rocked against you, grinding against you through your shorts. You feel your panties sticking to your pussy because of how wet you are.

"Soon, my sweet," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "Soon you'll be begging for more." You couldn’t help but rock your hips back to his harden cock, needing to release the desire pooling between your thighs.

Satoru chuckled darkly, feeling your body respond to him. "You're such a tease," he said, his voice laced with desire. He pressed his body further down on yours. "But I like it," he admitted, his mouth finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

Breaking away, Satoru trailed his lips down your body, his hands exploring your curves, making your body shivered slightly with his cold lips. For some reason, it makes your desire for him heightened. He pull your shorts down before hooking his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs, tossing them aside. He could see the wetness, smell the scent of arousal, and it drove him wild.

"You're so ready for me," he said, his voice low and husky. He spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. "But first," he said, his eyes locked on your wet pussy, "I need a taste."

"W-wa- ngh..!" before you could protest, he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to lick your folds, tasting the sweetness. Satoru groaned, his cock throbbing at the sweet taste of you. He began to lick and suck, his tongue exploring every inch of you, driving your mind to a haze, your back arching slightly at the feeling of the wet muscle exploring your cunt. Your hand instantly went down to tugged on his hair, his tongue is cold too, and it provides you a different sensation.

Satoru grinned, feeling your hand in his hair. "You like that, don't you?" He asked, his voice muffled by your body. He continued to pleasure you, his tongue teasing your clit, flicking it before he sucked it into his mouth. He could feel your body tremble beneath him, the sounds of your moans and whimpers fueling his lust.

"S-satoru..I-I can't..!" you moaned, your clit too sensitive at every single flick of his tongue.

"It's okay, baby. Cum for me," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening. "Let me taste it." He continued to work your body, his fingers joining in, slipping inside your wetness. He knew the perfect rhythm to push you over the edge, and he was determined to succeed.

Satoru's own arousal was nearly unbearable, but he wouldn't let himself climax until you did. He wanted to feel your body quiver against his mouth, your release coating his tongue.

You feel the coil in your belly tighten and he knew you were close by the way your walls tighten around his fingers. You bucked your hips against his mouth, seeking for more pleasure. "F-fuck..faster please..!" you begged.

He smirked as he obliged, speeding up his ministrations, sucking harder on your clit, his fingers pumping inside your pussy. "You want it faster, huh?" He teased, his voice thick with lust. "You'll get it."

He could feel the tension building, your body trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He didn't want to stop, didn't want to miss the moment you came undone. "That's it, darling," he encouraged, his voice low and encouraging. "Let it go, let me feel it."

Satoru increased the pressure, his tongue flicking over your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out, hitting your sweet spot. "N-ngh! Satoru..I-I'm gonna...g-gonna cum-!"

It was only a matter of moments before he felt your body shudder, walls clenching around his fingers as you came. He lapped up your juices, savoring the taste, before pulling away.

"Good girl," he praised, smirking as he wiped his mouth. "Now it's my turn." He pull down his pant enough to reveal his cock, long and girthy as he positioned himself at your entrance, throbbing with need.

Satoru pushed his cock into you slowly, groaning as his length fills you up and how tight your pussy is. You bit your lower lip, holding in your moans. "Y-you're so big Satoru.." you said softly.

Satoru smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "You'll get used to it," he promised, before he began to move. Slow, deep thrusts, letting you get accustomed to him. He could feel your body adjusting, tightening around him, and it made him even more aroused.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, searing kiss, his hips rolling, grinding against you, your moans muffled with the kiss. "God, you feel so good," he whispered against your mouth. His hand reached up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently, before moving down to stroke your clit. Your body quiver, your nub still sensitive.

"Let me hear you, sweet," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let me hear how much you love this." He began to thrust harder, faster, his cock sliding in and out of her, the sound of bodies slapping together filling the room.

"H-hah! F-feel so good..!" you moaned, eyes rolling back to the back of your skull at each of his thrust against your G-spot. Satoru's grip on your breast tightened, his other hand holding your hip, keeping you pinned. "Cum for me, my sweet," he demanded, his voice thick with lust. "Cum while I'm inside you."

Satoru groaned, his own pleasure building. He was close, so very close. "That's it," he praised, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his body losing control. "You're so tight, you're going to make me lose it."

His thrusts became more desperate, more frantic, his grip on your body tightening. He could feel the tip of his cock swelling, the need to release building. "Come for me," he growled, the last of his restraint slipping

"C-cumming!" you screamed. Satoru could feel your body tensing again, and it was enough to push him over the edge. With a deep growl, Satoru let go, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed. "Fuck," he swore, his body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over him.

He collapsed onto your body, his breathing heavy, his cock still buried deep inside you. "God, that was good," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He stayed there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being connected to you, before pulling out and rolling off you.

"That was...something.." you spoke, still trying to process what had happened. Satoru chuckles softly, his finger caressing your cheeks with a smile. "Sleep my darling, I'll clean you up."

For some reason, his voice makes you sleepy, like he's lulling you to sleep. So you decided to trust him and closed your eyes. It doesn't take too long until you finally fell asleep by his side. By the side of a ghost.

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You blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, slowly becoming aware of your surroundings. The warmth of the blankets cocooned you, and for a moment, you felt safe and content. But as your eyes adjusted, the reality of where you were began to seep back in.

You turned your head to the side and froze. Yuji and Megumi were sitting on the edge of the bed, concern etched across their faces. Nobara stood nearby, her arms crossed, looking equally worried.

“Thank goodness you’re awake!” Yuji exclaimed, relief flooding his voice. “We were so worried!”

“What happened?” you croaked, the memories of the night flooding back in a chaotic rush. The haunted house, Satoru...

“We found you unconscious in that bedroom,” Megumi explained, his expression a mix of guilt and concern. “We thought you’d just gotten scared or something, but you wouldn’t wake up.”

Nobara stepped forward, her brows furrowing in apology. “I’m so sorry for leaving you alone! We should have stayed with you.”

You shook your head, still trying to piece together what had happened. “I was fine. I… I was just resting.”

“Resting?” Yuji raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. “You were out cold! What really happened?”

You hesitated, the memories of how you just had sex with the ghost in the house still vivid in your mind. “It’s... complicated,” you finally said, your heart racing at the thought of how to explain.

Megumi's gaze softened. “We just want to make sure you’re okay. We thought maybe something... strange happened to you in that house.”

You glanced at them, their concern genuine, and felt a wave of gratitude mixed with confusion. “I’m fine now,” you assured them, though the lingering feelings from the night before were hard to shake. “Really. Just a little... overwhelmed.”

Yuji grinned, though his relief was clear. “Well, let’s get you something to eat. You need to regain your strength after scaring us like that!”

As they helped you sit up, the warmth of their friendship surrounded you, but the memories of what had happened in that haunted house lingered at the back of your mind, leaving you wondering about the strange encounter that felt so surreal. You hope..that it's actually a real encounter.

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[imaginariumwanderer]

Mkay last post before logging off. Featuring silly pixel art I made w/ my mouse.

This chart was actually made out of pure self-indulgent a while back with no intention of being posted, I ended up scribbling(?) all over the thing. Hopefully it's readable when zoomed in.

It's "my ship in 5 minutes" but I can make it 30 if you want. WARNING: Tons of sappy yapping+pixel art download under cut.

About "tropes": The trope is called Angel-Devil shipping, oh but I don't think PV is an angel. He's more like a God for SM (at least that's my preference)… Thinking at all the possible tropes that suits them make me really wonder why some people consider Shadowvanilla a crack/pro ship. Enemies to lovers or villain/hero ships have been pretty archetypal since the day of olds. Compared to all the ships I've encountered in the past… Shadowvanilla is more or less the "slightly out of the norm" on the "problematic ships scale" <- typing this out make me feel like an old fandom veteran haha

About "how it happens": I have no idea where to put PV on that chart. He's the one who approached first, but not out of romantic intents, him falling for SM is as unexpected as can be. SM fell first and slowly, and in 'slow' I meant decades upon decades. It's inevitable, painfully so, spending all those years watching over this cookie who's so perfect in his imperfections, how could one not feel something? Of course it's not so simple, that 'something' is a horrid mixture of disgust, envy, hatred, understanding, both the need to preserve and destroy… And maybeee the tiniest crumb of affection? SM realized something around the first couple hundredth years mark, he then spends the next thousands in denial of it. No matter. Whether it's PV or the Soul jam, his birth-given rights. SM knows what he wants and he WILL get what he wants. (He's wrong on both fronts. And somewhere in the back of his mind, SM knows that. But he'll never admit it. He'll never ever admit anything. Until it's too late. In a way, the same goes for PV)

About a certain someone who's not clingy, but would die for attention: I think PV gets lonely easily. As he's hyper-aware of himself and considerate of others, appearing clingy is the last thing PV wants. So PV would put extra efforts in taking care of those around him, be it cookies, animals or the greenery in his garden. A healer is always busy, always helpful. If he's always needed by others then he would never be afraid of being alone. Ironically enough, this ended up making PV come off as a little overbearing. As of late, the only ones able to see through the facade are Hollyberry cookie and you-know-who.

Other scattered thoughts: These two are completely different yet can't be more similar, on the various sliding scales they're either stuck to one another or are flung to both ends. On another note, honestly I can't see these two doing anything domestic together, the most I can see is cooking, which is basically the same as magic in the cookie world. Anyways, are they in "love"? Are they dating? Not really, no. It's more of a a parasitic-turned-symbiotic-soulbond, a will-they-won't-they-destroy-the-world situationship (iykyk) I do enjoy relationships that's hard to put into words. Their feelings are somehow romantic, somewhat deranged and something much, much deeper.

My desire to ship these two comes from the desire to see them grow beyound their archetypes. Being with PV does give SM the chance to be horrible as can be, yeah, but I'd like to think SM does have a personality outside of being a villainous tormentor. He spends so long observing others, and now for the first time he's being seen. Now SM have met someone who can see right through him, who can glimpse into those dammed vulnerabilities of his. Being with SM does let us see PV in his darkest moments, but it's at the same time the moments where PV can shine the most, to prove SM that his ideals isn't naïveté or simple platitudes. In canon, SM+PV works well as enemies, but it is the many contradictions born when romance is added into the mix that got me shipping. They simultaneously break down and bolster one another's greatest traits. Like binary stars, they orbit around the other, so close yet so far apart, lest they collide. They could've been so perfect for each other. But not in this life, or the next, or the next...

Pixel art time! I have way too much fun w/ Smilk's many faces, his and PV's combined came to around 22 expressions. These are quick to made due to their small size (25x25 px). Zip file includes both the og and 75x75 sizes. I don't mind if any Vanilla milkshakers might use these, just please remember to read the my art terms and conditions first! (which can be found in my About)

Some disclaimer: some images may have different names. This is the first time I'm using Getuploader so sorry if something broke.

Link

[joonsmagicshop]

Summer Lovin'

Summary: Every year The Park Family rents a cottage up in the mountains and every year they invite Taehyung, Jimin's best friend. But what happens when Jimin's sister is newly single and just wants some fun?

Paring: Taehyung/Reader

Work Count: 8K

Rating: M/18+ because smut

Tags: Brothers best friend trope, POV switch, Tae and Jimin are cute best friends and I love them okay, Fluffy haired Tae in a baseball cap, he calls her by a nickname, masturbation male and female, accidental walking in on someone naked, dirty thoughts, flirting, smut, dirty talk, fingering, sucking cock, fucking, cliffhanger ending, will there be more? who the heck knows!

Authors Note: Once again blaming Taehyung in a baseball cap for this.

Taehyung adored The Park Family.

He had become like a second son to them after one fateful day in third grade when little Park Jimin whispered a word in his ear he didn’t know, so he did what he thought was right and flagged the teacher down to ask her what it meant.

He missed the way Jimin’s eyes widened and he kept mouthing the word no over and over

When the word left little Taehyung’s mouth the teacher gasped and flung her hand over her mouth and asked him where he learned it from.

Taehyung wasn’t a tattle so he said nothing but the teacher saw how his eyes quickly moved over to Jimin which landed them both in detention and staying inside at recess, which to two overactive eight-year-olds was torture.

Jimin apologized right away, saying he wanted to be friends with Taehyung and tried to impress him by knowing a “grown-up word”

And that was how they became best friends.

Taehyung and Jimin became inseparable throughout grade school and into high school. They seemed always to be attached at the hip, where one went the other did too.

Throughout school, other friends came into the picture, their group growing and shifting as they both got older but one thing was certain: Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung were friends for life.

Every year Jimin’s family rented a cottage in the mountains for an entire week in August. The house was an A-frame cabin with giant windows overlooking the front and back of the property.

The cottage was huge but had a rustic cozy feel, with five bedrooms, a huge living room with a fireplace, and a huge backyard with enough space for lawn game tournaments and bonfires.

The dock was Taehyung’s favorite part of the cottage as it expanded outward quite far and he had fond memories of himself and Jimin lathering themselves in sunscreen to sit out there all day and see who could catch the biggest fish.

This year would be no different and Taehyung was grateful to get a week off from his busy job and be able to spend it with The Park family.

His duffle bag sat by the front door of his apartment as he fished his phone from his pocket to double-check the time Jimin said his family would be coming to pick him up.

Taehyung was no longer a boy, he was an adult now, but still felt the need to text his parents and let them know he was once again going to the mountains with The Park Family.

Not that his parents were surprised, he had been going every year since he was twelve and he was now twenty-seven.

Just as he sent the text, another message came through from Jimin saying that they were about to turn onto his street and Taehyung let out an excited giggle and grabbed his duffle bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He looked around the apartment one more time before fixing his backward baseball cap and heading off to his favorite adventure.

As long as Taehyung lived he knew he would never forget the air in the mountains. It was crisp and cool even in the humid August weather and after the long five-hour drive Mr. Park rolled down all the windows and they all stuck their heads out breathing it in.

The sky was a beautiful blue with huge whispy clouds and when Taehyung stared across the shimmering waters of one of the many lakes, he could feel excitement bubble up inside of him which came out in the form of a huge boxy grin directed at Jimin who was sitting next to him.

The van had not even fully stopped in front of the cottage when Jimin unbuckled his belt and Taehyung followed suit. It was tradition on the first day to see who could race to the dock and jump in the water first and Taehyung was determined not to lose for the third year in a row as he threw open his door and ignored the protests from Mrs. Park.

Jimin managed to get to the dock first but Taehyung was hot on his heels and decided to play dirty as he grabbed Jimin’s tee shirt which was two sizes too big and threw him to the ground.

Jimin’s angry noises could hardly be heard over Taehyung’s giggles as he kicked off his shoes and sprinted down the old wooden dock, carefully holding out his arms as it swayed under him.

“You cheater!” Jimin called out as Taehyung ripped off his shirt and hat and threw them somewhere. He made sure to take his phone out of his pocket and place it in a safe spot too. He could hear Jimin behind him, way too close behind for being thrown to the ground and Tae plugged his nose and jumped into the cold lake water hissing as it nipped at his bare skin.

Another splash could be heard as Jimin hurled himself into the water right next to Taehyung and both boys came up gasping for air and giggling as they splashed each other with cold lake water.

Taehyung pushed his hair back from his face and grinned at Jimin who was grinning right back.

They both swam back to the dock and used the tiny ladder to climb back up. The towels were still packed away so they both sprawled out on the wooden chairs that were placed at the end of the dock and let the sun dry their skin.

Taehyung grabbed his hat and pushed his long dark hair back before placing the hat on his head to block out some of the harsh sun.

“You’re such a cheater Tae,” Jimin whined as he fished around for his sunglasses which got tangled in the mess of clothing left behind.

Taehyung snickered.

“You have played dirty that last couple of years Jimin-ah.” He reminded as Jimin gave a small huff and shoved his sunglasses on his face, tilting his blonde head back to soak up the sun.

Both boys lapsed into silence, taking in the sounds of the lake, the small boats that padded around, and the birds overhead.

Eventually, Taehyung spoke.

“Bug not coming up this year?” He asked Jimin as he smoothed his hands down his front and stretched his arms over his head.

“You know she hates it when you call her that.” Jimin scolded which caused Tae to smirk.

“You both know why I call her that.”

“Yeah. I still can’t believe we counted fifteen bug bites. All in one night too.” Jimin mused as Tae snickered.

“And her making your mom run to the store to get her ointment because she was scared she was going to claw her legs off with all the scratching.”

Jimin laughed at the memory and adjusted his sunglasses which were slowly slipping down his nose.

“Bug is going to come up tomorrow. She tried everything she could to get today off work but management wouldn’t let her and none of her coworkers would switch her. She’s doing half the drive tonight and the rest tomorrow.” Jimin explains as a boat zooms by with someone being pulled behind on an intertube yelling and having the time of their lives.

“She’s coming up alone? What about….Jung…whatever his name was?” Taehyung asked turning his head away from the boaters to stare at Jimin who scowled.

“Jungsoo? They broke up three months ago. Something about them fighting about stupid shit a lot.” He said shrugging.

Taehyung felt his heart ache for Jimin’s younger sister.

“Aww, I’m sorry to hear that. He seemed promising.”

Jimin stretched his arms above his head and let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, she said they were fighting a lot and just couldn’t seem to get along. I never asked what they fought about. But she seems okay. When I visit my parents she seems like my normal annoying little sister. I don’t think the breakup was too bad.” Jimin shrugs as he stands up and Tae follows suit.

“We should probably go in and help the parents.”

Both boys gather their things and head back to the house. Jimin is talking about some TV show he wants Taehyung to get into but Taehyung finds his mind is elsewhere.

The next morning Jimin shakes his friend out of a dead sleep and suggests they go on an early morning boat ride.

Even for August, the mornings are crisp so Taehyung wears shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, throws on a sweater just in case, and grabs his signature red baseball cap smoothing it over his bedhead.

Jimin writes his parents a note so they don’t worry and both boys silently slip out of the cottage and head back down to the dock.

Jimin doesn’t want to fish this morning and Taehyung is more than happy just to cruise around the lake and see if anything has changed since last summer.

The sun is just starting to rise as Jimin pulls the small silver boat from the dock and steers it expertly across the lake as he had done many summers before.

A soft wind ripples the water below as Taehyung pulls his sweater over his hands and takes out his phone to snap some shots of the sun rising over the mountains.

A light fog covers the lake as they both cruise around and everything is silent and peaceful.

The sun is high by the time they make it back and when they finally get the boat tied to the dock Mrs Park is calling them in for breakfast.

Both boys make it to the kitchen in time to see plates piled high with croissants, fruit, and toast with multiple jams.

What really shocks Taehyung is the fact that Jimin’s sister is standing in the kitchen buttering some bread.

Jimin shrieks and wraps his sister in a hug while Tae stands there as if he is a statue, unmoving, unblinking as he takes in Y/N.

Jimin’s sister is not how he remembers and he feels himself swallow nervously when your soft eyes land on his.

You seemed to have gotten taller, and grown your hair out and Taehyung suddenly felt disgusted with the thoughts he was thinking so he resorted to the only thing he knew how to do,

Light teasing.

“Hey, Bug!” He called as you came over and rolled your eyes at him, playfully smacking his arm and giving him a side hug.

“You ever going to let that one go? I was eleven.” You say scrunching your nose as Taehyung tries his best to seem nonchalant and not like he was ogling you.

You were Jimin’s sister after all.

“Nah I don’t think I’ll ever let it go Bug,” Taehyung responds smoothly as you once again roll your eyes and pull away from him to butter more toast as Jimin talks excitedly filling his sister in on the morning boat ride.

Taehyung keeps to himself and slowly fills his plate with food giggling along with Jimin’s story and trying to not stare at you too much.

There was just something about you, maybe it was the way the morning sun was hitting your bare arms or the way you tilted your head back and laughed when Jimin became more animated with his story but it was sending mixed signals to Taehyung’s head

You smiled along to Jimin’s story and unknown to you, your smile gave Taehyung that funny giddy feeling in his stomach that only came along with having a crush on someone.

But he didn’t have a crush on you

That would be ridiculous you were practically his sister after all.

And just because you came here looking good didn’t mean he had to indulge in these feelings.

There were no feelings anyway.

This whole thing was stupid

Jimin nudged his shoulder which jolted him from his thoughts and asked if Tae was up to some fishing on the dock today.

Taehyung found himself nodding and when his eyes met yours across the table his stomach did a silly little flutter again.

Well, shit.

The day was perfectly spent on the dock with Jimin as they chatted and soaked up the warm sun, catching hardly any fish but still having a good time.

Jimin brought a mini speaker and was in charge of music as the day went on, telling Taehyung he could play whatever he wanted to as long as it wasn’t jazz.

Jimin argued that Jazz wasn’t fishing music so they stuck to a mix of oldies and pop music singing along when they knew the words.

The sun was creeping lower in the sky when Mrs. Park called them to get cleaned up because dinner would be ready in an hour.

You had decided to spend your day up at the cottage on the hammock as you read your book and occasionally eyed Taehyung who was looking extra fine this year.

The way he called you by your silly nickname sent a shiver down your spine and you tried your best not to ogle him over the breakfast table.

He was your brother’s best friend after all

Just because Jungsoo spent too much of his time drinking and hanging out with other girls who were not you didn’t mean you had to jump at the first guy you thought was handsome, even though this crush on Taehyung dated way back when you were fifteen.

You tried to stare at your book, not absorbing a single thing as Jimin and Taehyung made their way over. You could feel them getting closer and you tried your best to stay cool, calm, and collected as you pretended to read.

Jimin playfully flicked your arm which caused you to close your book and hit his arm with it making Taehyung laugh.

A hearty laugh that went straight to your stomach and made butterflies erupt as both boys headed into the cottage to get cleaned up. Jimin claimed the upstairs shower and Taehyung settled for the downstairs one.

Your book was suddenly the least interesting thing as you stared at the pages but your mind was elsewhere.

To a certain dark-haired boy who would be taking a shower in the downstairs bathroom, where the lock can be faulty if you don’t close the door hard enough. What would he say if you slipped in with him? Would his eyebrows raise in shock? Or would he mutter a cheeky “finally” and pull you in for a searing kiss?

You had a sneaking suspicion that Taehyung would be a great kisser.

You swallowed hard imagining Taehyung under the spray and how good he would look soaking wet and so very naked.

Your core throbbed at the thought and you nearly screamed when your mom came up behind you and asked if you could help with dinner.

You followed her into the house placing your book on the kitchen counter as you got to work, grateful for a distraction. Soft music was playing from Jimin’s Bluetooth speaker as you cut up vegetables and set the table. You could faintly hear the sounds of Jimin singing over the sound of the running water.

Everything was calm and peaceful.

That was until your mom asked you to go downstairs to grab the potatoes.

You slowly made your way down the narrow stairs and tried your best to ignore the door that Taehyung was behind and instead focus on the task at hand.

“Potatoes, potatoes… grab them and leave, Don’t think about it. Grab and leave.” You muttered to yourself opening up the storage bins your mom brought hoping you could find them quickly.

“Hey uh, Jimin?” Came a deep voice that made the hair on your arms stand and you nearly dropped the bag on your foot as the door creaked open and you were met with a very wet, shirtless Taehyung.

“Oh shit sorry, Bug.” He said cheeks flushing which you were sure your cheeks matched as you held the bag against your chest as if it would protect you from his hotness.

Steam was billowing out from behind him and he looked divine standing there soaking wet as droplets fell from his hair and down his face. Your eyes narrowed in on a fat droplet that was currently making its way down his chest agonizingly slow.

“Want me to grab him for you?” You asked, grateful your voice didn’t crack as you stared at Tae who was half-hidden behind the door and grinning sheepishly at you.

“Uh, I mean. I was wondering if you could go to the laundry room and grab me a towel. Usually, there is one in here but I think your mom forgot.” He says shooting you a small shy smile and your eyes widen when you realize he is naked, fully naked behind the door.

Heat blooms across your face and you nod slowly and put the bag back where you found it in favor of going to the laundry room and grabbing a towel.

You take several deep breaths as your hand connects with the fluffy white towel and you fan your face to make the blush hopefully go down.

You can’t stop thinking about the way his dark locks hung on his forehead and beads of water ran down his beautiful face. His chest was sculpted and he looked like a model straight out of a magazine, and all he did was shower!

You grabbed the towel and hurried back to him desperate to get back upstairs and out of this situation and when you hand it to him you can’t help but stare when he uses one hand to push his hair back from his face.

This man was going to be the death of you.

“Thanks, Bug.” He said with a cheeky wink as you went to grab the potatoes again.

“You know that’s not my name.” You deadpanned shooting him a glare that had him laughing.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the door fully which had you standing there frozen as you completely took him in.

You tried to keep your gaze on his face but found yourself drawn to his toned stomach and how the towel sat so tantalizingly low on his hips.

Right when you were about to open your mouth to say something Taehyung interjected.

“Nah I like calling you Bug. You look so cute when you're all flustered over it.” He says smoothly, leaning against the door frame with a cocky grin plastered on his face.

You don’t know what to do or say

Taehyung was so obviously flirting with you and you were messing it up big time.

Luckily for you, Taehyung interjected again making your stomach flip.

“Well, thanks for the towel Bug.” He teases with a wink before closing the door and leaving you standing in the basement breathlessly holding a bag of potatoes.

Dinner was peaceful as your parents decided to eat outside on the large deck that overlooked the grass and the water.

The sun was starting to slowly set and the air was getting cooler again which meant you were wrapped up in shorts and a sweater as you ate.

You were hyper-aware of Taehyung sitting next to you and tried your best to not stare at him too much as you as you ate.

Because you helped cook it meant the boys had to help clean so you decided to take a quick shower to clean off the day.

Showers were usually pointless as almost every night your parents had a bonfire but you still cleaned your hair and body, humming a song under your breath as you worked.

You turned the shower off and stepped out feeling refreshed as you took your time applying skincare and combing through your soaked hair.

You decided to throw it up in a clip as you didn’t want to go through all the work of styling it and then you sat on the bed scrolling through your phone aimlessly as you could hear the boys talking and joking in the kitchen.

Your thoughts drifted back to Taehyung and you couldn’t help but let out a dreamy sigh as you remembered how he looked out of the shower. How his face was so handsome and how he shot you a cute boxy grin when you handed him a towel.

You could feel your face heat up once more and a persistent throbbing between your legs told you liked the thought of a wet, naked Taehyung.

You checked the little black alarm clock that sat on the nightstand and grinned.

The bonfire didn’t usually start until the sun went down so you had some time to take care of things.

You slipped under the covers and carefully shucked off your pants. You knew you had time, but not enough of it to truly indulge so you gathered some wetness and played with your clit.

Your thoughts went back to wet, naked Taehyung and how he would look in the shower. With water droplets cascading down his chest and back, how his biceps would flex as he washed his hair and you could only imagine how his cock would look under the spray.

Your orgasm crept up on you quicker than you thought and before you knew it your muscles were straining and you were whining into your hand as you rode out your high, whimpering out Tae’s name as if he was the one to bring you sweet relief and not your own imagination.

You slumped down on the bed exhausted and pulled the covers over your naked lower half. You were too tired to get dressed just yet and softly closed your eyes.

The bonfire was raging as Taehyung looked out at the quiet lake and smiled to himself when he caught a glimpse of fireflies dancing on the surface of the water.

Mr and Mrs Park brought everything down for smores and Jimin was poking the fire with a stick as his hair fell in front of his eyes.

“Where’s Y/N?” Mrs. Park asked shooting a look back at the cottage as the smoke from the fire rose in the air.

“Jimin-ah stop poking at it it is fine.” Mr. Park scolded lightly.

Taehyung also looked up at the cottage and frowned, he had not seen you since after dinner and a part of him wondered if he made you uncomfortable when he asked you for a towel and flirted with you.

His initial plan wasn’t to flirt at all. However, something about the way your cheeks tinged pink when he winked at you sent a thrill down his spine and he found once he started flirting with you he had a hard time stopping

“I’ll go up and see. I want to grab some water anyway.” Taehyung announced as he stood up and brushed his hands on his thighs.

He followed the illuminated path to the deck and opened the sliding door.

The cottage was quiet and he opened the fridge and grabbed a couple of water bottles placing them on the counter for later, before making his way to your room.

Your room was at the very end of the hall and honestly, Taehyung was often jealous of it. You had a big bay window that overlooked the forest and a small sliver of the lake which would be the perfect spot to read or write, both of which he enjoyed.

He knocked on the door and waited, shifting foot to foot as he pushed his long hair back from his face.

He really should have gotten a haircut before he came here.

He frowned when you didn’t answer and knocked again, this time a little louder in case you didn’t hear him.

When you still didn’t respond he called your name a couple of times and eventually gave up and pushed the door open.

And what a sight you were.

Taehyung sucked in a harsh breath when his eyes met your sleeping form. It looked like you passed out right after your shower.

You sleeping wasn’t what shocked him.

It was how you were sleeping.

You were wearing a big baggy tee shirt that he was convinced used to belong to Jimin as it looked familiar. Your hair was damp and splayed out on the pillow as your cheek was cutely pushed into it.

You were half on your back half on your side as one leg was sticking straight out and the other was bent at an angle to show off the exquisite curve of your ass and the back of your thighs.

Which were on full display because you weren’t wearing any bottoms.

At all.

Nothing.

Taehyung felt the blood in his body rush south so quickly it made him dizzy and he held onto the door frame for support as his eyes roved your body.

You must have kicked off the sheets in your sleep as they were piled at the end of the bed and even from here Taehyung could see your pussy lips which caused him to let out a low whine and his cock to twitch in his shorts.

Taehyung stood frozen unsure of what to do as you slept peacefully unaware of the turmoil he was in.

He should just shut the door and leave.

Walk away.

Pretend he didn’t see anything

But what if Mr or Mrs Park came in?

Or worse Jimin.

You should at least be covered up.

It would be the right thing to do.

Taehyung sucked in a deep breath and entered the room. He walked up to you and nearly cried out when he got an eyeful of your bare pussy.

Your lips were wet and swollen and it looked like you had recently pleasured yourself as he could still see your arousal leaking out. He could see the little freckles that were on the back of your legs and felt every nerve in his body on fire when he realized how badly he wanted to kiss every single one.

Fucking shit.

You let out a small mumble in your sleep and shifted on the bed, Taehyung stood frozen heart racing in his chest.

What if you woke up and thought he was a pervert?

Taehyung grits his teeth as his cock twitched again in his pants, staining his boxers in wetness as he brought a hand down to his palm at it, just to ease the ache.

You looked so good like this, all sprawled out in bed, pussy exposed to him. He wanted nothing more than to dip a finger in and taste your wetness on his tongue. He had no doubt you would taste divine.

You muttered again in your sleep and shifted on the bed. This time laying on your back and opening your legs wide. Taehyung shoved his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself from moaning as he peeked down and saw your bare pussy on display.

His heart was pounding and his cock was twitching painfully in his pants. You must have pleasured yourself right after dinner. He wondered what got you so worked up and for a brief moment wondered if it had to do with bringing him a towel.

Taehyung snickered when he thought of you getting turned on at the mere thought of him naked behind a door and thought it was the sexiest thing in the world that you made yourself cum because of him.

He carefully grabbed the blankets and threw them over you before he took things too far as you smiled and hummed in your sleep.

Tae could feel the persistent throbbing of his cock as he tucked you in and tried his best to stay as gentlemanly as possible.

Once he left the room he made his way to the downstairs bathroom and closed the door. Within moments he had his cock out and was jerking himself off harshly as his mind replayed the image of you naked and wet in your bed, the way your pussy lips were all puffy and sodden with your arousal. For a brief moment, he once again wondered if you had cum at the thought of him and that alone set him off as he threw his head back and a broken moan left his lips, the veins on his neck bulged as hot ropes of cum coated his fist as Taehyung’s hips jerked as he rode out his high.

Once Taehyung was all cleaned he went back upstairs and knocked on your door loudly. He could hear you wake in your room and he announced that the bonfire was on if you wanted to come out. He didn’t wait for you to answer, instead, he grabbed the bottles of water and headed out with a knowing smirk on his face.

The next morning Taehyung was awoken early once again.

He fully expected it to be Jimin wanting to go on another early morning adventure but he was shocked to see it was you leaning over his bed and biting at your lip shyly.

Even though Taehyung had jerked off last night it seemed his body was still prone to morning erections and he scrunched up the blankets to cover his lap as you stood next to the bed in shorts and an oversized sweater.

The memory of yesterday played through his mind as you stood there and it took him a moment to realize you were speaking.

“Sorry Bug I’m not awake yet. Repeat that?” He said sitting up but keeping the blankets firm on his lap as his erection throbbed.

“I wanted to go on a boat ride and wanted to know if you would come with me. I tried to wake Jimin but he’s dead to the world right now.” You said in a small voice running a hand through your hair and looking nervous.

Taehyung felt his heart hammer in his chest as he nodded.

“Uh yeah sure. Just write a note to the parents and let them know I’m coming with you. Let me get changed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen?” He said in his deep morning voice as you shot him a dazzling smile and left his room.

Taehyung willed his morning hard-on to go down as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head. He stared out the window to see the first rays of the sun and quickly got changed into some mesh shorts and a shirt, opting once again to bring a sweater as he threw his hat over his head and exited the room.

You were scribbling a note on the small pad kept in the kitchen and Taehyung sucked in a breath when he saw the shorts you were wearing that hardly covered your ass and the baggy sweater that made it look like you were wearing nothing at all underneath.

Just like yesterday.

Taehyung forced himself to think about anything else but that as you smiled up at him and you both made your way across the dew-covered grass and to the dock.

The sun was casting a warm glow over everything and Tae quickly shucked off his sweater and left it on one of the chairs as you got to work getting the boat unhooked from the dock.

The only sounds on the lake were the cicadas and the birds overhead as Tae sat in the front and let you steer the boat as you easily navigated the small channels of the lake expertly.

“Dunno why they won’t let you take the boat on your own. You're a natural Y/N.” He musses as he smiles back at you.

“What it’s Y/N now? And not Bug?” You tease as Taehyung feels his face flush and his blinks slowly at you.

Were you…flirting with him?

Yesterday you were all flustered at his flirting and now you were beating him at his own game.

The alarm bells were going off in his head. Last night was hot as hell and he would remember it forever but the morning had also brought a painful realization. This was Jimin’s sister. This was someone he grew up with… a family he could almost call his own. He didn’t want to ruin things or make them awkward by thinking something was there if it wasn’t.

But the way you looked at him when he innocently asked for a towel. The way he walked in with you half-naked sprawled out on your bed. That had to mean something…right?

A new-found confidence surged in Taehyung as he decided to test out his theory.

“Well, I think you're getting a little old for Bug now. You're a grown woman after all” Tae mutters as a fish jumps a couple of miles out and you both startle.

“Glad you finally noticed I’m grown up. Took you long enough” You tease back as you navigate the boat further away from the cottage until it is a pinprick in the distance.

Taehyung feels hot all over and is grateful he ditched his sweater.

“Of course I noticed. You aren’t our little bug anymore.” He responds dipping his hand in the cool lake water as you turn the boat.

“Our little bug or your little bug? You were the only one to call me that Taetae.” You muse as his eyes widen and he licks his lips.

This is flirting

This is definitely flirting.

The alarm bells are still blaring in his head because this is Jimin’s sister after all but Tae can’t help himself as he scoops up some water and flings it backward successfully hitting you and making you shriek which echoes across the lake.

Taehyung throws his head back and laughs until you scoop up some water and fling it at him soaking his bare arms and making him shiver.

“Bug!” he whines as you throw your head back and laugh and navigate the boat to a small inlet parking it safely on the shore and getting out before a full-on water fight can break out.

“Thought I was too old for Bug? No takebacks now!” You call out hopping out of the boat.

Taehyung scrambles after you and you giggle as you throw yourself on the ground and sit back on your hands tilting your face up to the bright blue sky.

He flops down on the dewy grass and adjusts his cap as you smile at him and pull the sweater over your legs to cover them.

“I’m gonna keep calling you bug if you play dirty like that. Flinging water at me. Aren’t you supposed to respect your elders?” He teases tilting his head playfully as you grin.

“That’s not playing dirty Tae. If I wanted to play dirty I’d do this.”

Before he can think you are on top of him tackling him to the ground and pinning his hands over his head. You push your entire weight into his body to keep him down and both of your giggles can be heard echoing over the quiet of the lake.

Your hands are so small and dainty as you pin him down and when you grin down at him in satisfaction Tae can’t help but feel his heart thrumming rapidly in his chest.

“That’s all you got?” He goats as he easily flips you over so this time your back is pushed into the grass and he takes your arms and expertly holds them over your head. His hands are so large he can hold both your wrists with one hand as the other holds onto your shoulder to keep you pinned.

“Now you’re playing dirty!” You whine as Taehyung shoots you a grin and his eyes wander over your face.

From the mischievous gleam in your eyes to your hair which is splayed out on the grass, to the little freckle right under your lip.

His eyes widen when you lick your lips and he comes to the sudden realization that you are under him.

He is holding you hostage with one hand and you are under him

And his cock is achingly hard and pressing into your side.

Holy fuck.

By the look on your face, he can tell you feel his hard cock pressing into your hip and you both stay frozen in time staring at each other in shock.

Taehyung opens his mouth to apologize though he isn’t sure what he is even supposed to say in this situation, this was what he wanted after all, but you stop him by pushing your hips up to make his hard cock press into you harder.

Taehyung lets out a shuddering breath and his eyes flutter closed as you smirk and try to shift under him to get his cock to press into your core.

Taehyung doesn’t know what to do. Or say. He feels like his brain is short-circling and his lips are dry as he licks them and continues to stare at you.

Everything seems to move in slow motion as you both stare into each other’s eyes. You feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing into your stomach and when you grind against it Tae lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core making you throb.

“Taetae.” You breathe out breaking the silence as he finally blinks and slowly pulls away as if the trance you had him in is suddenly broken.

He pulls away from you forcefully and sits beside you bringing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his hands. This is more than innocent flirting and even though every part of his body is screaming at him to get his hands on you the rational part of his brain takes over and reminds him you are Jimin’s sister. This was more than innocent flirting. And this could go really bad really quick.

You slowly sit up and feel flushed as you look over at Tae who is taking off his hat and messing with his hair again.

“I-we gotta. I should. Fuck I should apologize I’m so sorry about that. Ohmygod.” Tae stammers as he finally looks at you.

“Taehyung you have nothing to be sorry about.” You say softly as the wind makes the boat knock against the shore and the sun peaks higher over the mountains.

“I didn’t mean to-I mean you were under me- and I- I swear it was an accident.” He stammers as a blush coats his cheeks making him look so sweet and cute.

The poor boy was so flustered from getting hard it made you smile.

“Tae you had me under you and you got hard. It’s biology. It’s normal. I’m not mad I’m actually flattered.” You admit raking a hand through your hair

“F-Flattered?” He asks still looking agonized over the whole thing so you scoot closer to him and grin.

“Yes flattered that my brother’s sexy best friend somehow got even hotter this year and gets turned on when I’m pinned under him”

Taehyung’s jaw drops and you can’t help but let out a giggle at his reaction.

“If it makes you feel better I think it was hot as fuck to have you on top of me.” You admit shyly as Taehying stares at you.

“I-Uh I’m sorry I think my brain is malfunctioning you think I’m hot?” He asks biting at his lips.

“Of course Taehyung you have always been hot.” You say as if it was a common fact.

“Well fuck.”

“And correct me if I’m wrong you think I’m hot too.” You tease wiggling your eyebrows at him as you gesture down to his lap.

Taehyung swallows thickly.

“You're also Jimin’s sister.” He says firmly.

“I don’t see him around do you?”

Taehyung bites his lip and looks conflicted so you decide to take charge.

“Taetae. I’ve always found you attractive. I almost jumped you when you asked me to hand you a towel. I was so flustered and turned on at the thought of you being naked. Dear god the things you do to me.” You say boldly as you slide your body closer to his and run a fingernail up his bare arm.

“I-You can’t say stuff like that. I’m not gonna be able to control myself.” He groans which makes your pussy throb and your heart race.

“Who says you have to control yourself? Isn’t giving in so much more fun?”

Taehyung swallows hard and feels his cock harden once more, straining against his shorts and aching painfully.

“Want to know a secret? I didn’t control myself last night. I came on my fingers at the thought of you wet and naked in the shower.” You say voice dropping low as goosebumps coat his arms and he shivers.

“I-I know. I came in and you were sprawled on the bed…n..naked and I saw. I’m so sorry I covered you up right away.” He says throat bobbing nervously.

“Mhmm did you like what you saw Taetae? My pretty pussy on display for you. Soaking wet for you”

Taehyung can’t handle it anymore. His cock is hard, his balls ache, and the thought of you touching yourself because of him makes the cord snap and he throws all his morals out the window as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for a harsh kiss.

You moan against his lips and tangle your hands at the nape of his neck when he kisses you. His lips mold to yours perfectly and he tastes sweet, so Taehyung, you can’t help but push harder into him desperate for more.

You rip the hat off his head and tangle your fingers in his hair and he grunts in your mouth when you pull on them slightly as you shift your body so you are now sitting on his lap.

You can feel the hot ridge of his cock pressing against you and when you grind down on it Taehyung pulls his lips away from yours and moans against your throat.

“I-I want you so bad.” He growls as he presses hot wet kisses to your neck. You cry out his name and tilt your head back to give him more access and you continue to grind slowly against his clothed bulge.

“Take me Tae. I’m all yours.” You whimper as he pulls away and cups your cheeks with his long fingers.

“What about Jimin? He’s my best friend. I mean. I think we should talk this out first.” He says as he gazes at you softly.

“Tae I’m going to be honest I want you to fuck me. Right now I don’t want a relationship I just want a good fuck. Something my ex could never give me. Show me how good it can be?” You plead batting your eyelashes.

“He didn’t fuck you?” He asks softly as one hand leaves your face to trace lines up and down your thighs.

“He did…doesn’t mean it was good though.” You admit sadly.

“That fucker.” Tae swears and you smirk as you lean forward to press kisses to his neck.

“This doesn’t have to be a big thing. We both get to have mindblowing sex and that can be it. As for Jimin. He doesn’t need to know Taetae. It can be our secret.”

Taehyung nods wordlessly and grabs your jaw to tilt your head back. He begins to pepper kisses along your jawline and you moan and grind down on his cock, giving him the delicious friction he craves.

“God you feel so good on top of me.” He whines out.

“Thought you liked me under you?” You tease.

Taehyung cocks an eyebrow and within seconds you are under him once more and his hands are grabbing at your sweater trying to pull it off your head.

You help him get it off and he lets out a low whine when he sees you are only in a crop top with no bra and the cool morning air has your nipples poking through the shirt.

“You did this on purpose didn’t you?” He asks as you bite your lip and squeeze your legs to help with some of the ache.

Taehyung gets his large hands under your shirt and begins to palm at your nipples making electricity run down your body and your pussy pathetically throb. His fingers are so long, so perfect against your skin it makes you gasp as he rubs your nipples expertly.

You are sure you have soaked your underwear at this point and when Taehyung lifts your shirt higher and leans his face down so he can suck at your nipple you know you are a goner.

Your hands tangle in his hair as he sucks and licks at your nipples humming against your skin making you arch into his warm wet mouth.

He presses hot open-mouthed kisses down your body and when he gets to your shorts you lift your hips as he pulls them down in one swoop taking your underwear with them.

“Fuck you are a vision all spread out for me.” He says shamelessly squeezing his cock over his clothes as you reach to take off his shirt to see him too.

You are met with miles of tanned toned skin and your mouth waters when he shoots you a cocky grin.

“Can I stretch you out so you can take my cock? Is that okay baby?” He asks before slotting two fingers inside your body causing a broken moan to leave your lips and your body to arch up into his touch.

Taehyung’s fingers are long and dainty. When they pump in and out of you and stretch out your walls you find yourself moaning out his name and he grins devilishly as he brings you closer to your high.

“Fuck you are squeezing my fingers, baby. Gonna be so tight on my cock.” He growls as another finger comes up to slowly play with your clit and you throw back your head and cry out his name.

Just as the sun clears the mountains you cum around Taehyung’s skilled fingers.

He coaxes you through it with ease and you whine and thrash under him as your whole body is taken by your orgasm.

You are slumped in the grass breathing heavily when he finally pulls his fingers out and when he pops them in his mouth you swear your pussy throbs again as if you didn’t just cum.

He lets you take your time coming down and when you finally regain your breath you sit up and flip him over with ease straddling his lap and clawing at his shorts to get them off.

Taehyung assists you in getting them off and when his heavy cock slaps against his stomach you nearly moan at the sight.

His cock is rock hard and flushed the prettiest red color. The head is shiny with arousal and the vein that runs on the underside is thick and slightly throbbing.

You waste no time circling his cock with your hand and Taehyung moans when you start to jerk him off expertly running your hand up and down his velvety shaft.

His cock is impossibly hard in your hand and when the head leaks more precum you can’t help but lower down to lick it from Taehyung’s cock making him claw at the ground under him and whine out your name.

“Fuck I- I touched myself to the thought of you last night. Came so hard” He admits as you snicker and begin to jerk his shaft in longer strokes causing him to arch into your touch.

“I-You gotta- You gotta stop I don’t wanna cum like this.” He grunts as you ignore his pleas and instead surprise him by bringing your mouth to his cock and sucking him down hallowing out your cheeks and soaking in all the noises that are leaving his pretty mouth.

“Y/N P-please.” He cries out as you pop off of his cock and grin down at his fucked out expression.

“I-I gotta be inside you.” Taehyung pleads as he sits up and lays you back down on the grass. You open your legs and Taehyung swears under his breath as his long fingers come to jerk off his cock as he positions it at your entrance

“Wait. I don’t have anything. Fuck.” He says lightly smacking his forehead.

You giggle, reach for your discarded sweater, and grab the condom that was hidden in the front pocket. You grin as you hand it to Taehyung.

“So you had this all planned out huh?” He taunts as he expertly rips open the packet and rolls the condom on his hard length, giving it a couple of long slow strokes.

“I said I wanted to be fucked properly I was hoping it would be by you.” You tease back as he presses his tip into your entrance and you hiss when he pushes himself inside.

Even though you came on his fingers his cock still stretches you out and when he finally bottoms out you can feel your walls clamping around him.

He hovers over you and brushes the hair back from your face delicately as he presses small soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

“Relax for me love. I can’t fuck you properly if you are so tense” He coos as you take several deep breaths and slowly shift your hips to adjust to his size and girth.

Taehyung looks so handsome on top of you with a soft smile on his face and his curled locks falling in front of his lust-filled eyes.

“Fuck me Tae. Please god fuck me.” You cry out when your body adjusts and Tae smiles wickedly as he pounds into you sending you moaning on the grass.

Taehyung alternates between ramming his cock into you and circling his hips seductively to get his cockhead to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Such a slut for me Y/N. Getting yourself off last night. Bringing a condom today. You wanted to be fucked so bad by me I bet you couldn’t stand it could you.” He coos dangerously low in your ear which makes you shiver and cling to his back.

“What were you thinking of when you touched yourself? Tell me, Bug.” He demands as another thrust of his hips makes his cock hit that spot inside you that has you whining out his name and feeling your orgasm build in your stomach.

“Y-You in the shower. Naked.” You cry out as one hand comes down to play with your clit as he continues to drag his cock in and out of you making you cry out his name.

“Mmm you were all big talk a couple of minutes ago and now you’ve gone dumb on my cock. How cute.” He teases as he thrusts harder and his hips stutter a bit causing you to once again cry out his name.

“Tae please mo-more. Fuck me dumb.” You sob out as he does as he’s asked and begins to thrust into you harder. He grabs your hips and pins you to the ground holding you there as his hips fuck wildly into you making your orgasm approach rapidly.

“Fuck baby you are clenching around me. Gonna cum already? Being so naughty fucking your brother’s best friend. Such a slut.” He muses.

Every drag of his cock against your walls brings you closer to the edge and you can’t help but close your eyes and throw your head back as Taehyung continues to give you the best fuck of your life. His mouth is sloppily peppering kissing along your jawline and he is groaning in your ear as he pounds into you harshly.

“F-Full… so full of your cock Tae fuck you are so big” You whine out as he grins.

“Who’s making you feel this good huh? Who’s fucking your pussy this good?” He demands as his fingers dance across your nipples making you cry out.

“You.”

“Try again bug. I want the whole lake to hear who is fucking your pussy this good.”

“Taehyung fuck!” You scream as he chuckles darkly in your ear.

You gasp when he grabs your jaw and forces you to stare at him. He looks dangerous on top of you. Eyes gleaming with lust, lips drawn into a knowing smirk and when his tongue comes out to lick at his lips you swear you are done for as you feel your pussy flutter around him.

“I want you to keep those eyes open bug. Want you to see who is fucking you right. Shit. Your fucking ex wishes he was buried in this pussy right now. You are so wet for me.” He moans.

The noises between you are obscene making you cream his cock even more and when his hand comes down to play with your clit it sets you off.

You can hardly cry out his name before you are arching up and clamping around his cock. Your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and you close your eyes and bury your face in his shoulder as you ride it out.

“Close,” Tae warns you as you come down from your high, and when you smirk and thrust your hips down to meet his sloppy thrusts he loses it and cums hard inside you.

His grunts are music to your ears and he sounds heavenly as you feel his cock twitch deep inside you.

You rub his back and let him ride out his high and when he slumps against you a giggle leaves your mouth as you feel giddiness bubble up.

Taehyung slowly pulls out, discards the condom in a nearby trash can, and sits back down next to you. The sun fully rises as you both silently get dressed and when you head to the boat Taehyung can’t help but hold your hand.

You make your way back to the cottage as if nothing happened and when you finally get the boat tied to the dock Taehyung stares at you.

“That was incredible Y/N. I’m kinda sad it’s a one-time thing.” He admits shyly scratching the back of his neck.

Before you can answer Jimin is making his way down the dock and you both straighten up as he approaches.

You and Tae were both careful about not leaving marks but you wonder if your brother will be able to see the blush that is currently staining your face.

“A boat ride without me? Really? I wanted to go.” He whines hands on his hips as Taehyung chuckles.

“I tried to wake you, believe me, Chim you were dead to the world. Taetae came with me though.” You said nonchalantly as you grabbed your sweater from the bottom of the boat and sent a cheeky smile Taehyung’s way

He came with you alright.

“You’re lucky I saved you breakfast at all. You tradiors. Also, Y/N what’s with your hair? It has twigs in it?” Jimin asks suspiciously as you swallow hard.

“I was steering and thought it would be funny to run Bug into a low-hanging tree branch.” Taehyung covers as you shoot him a grateful look and Jimin laughs.

Him calling you bug takes on a whole other meaning after he fucked you and you can’t help but feel arousal pool in your panties at his words.

“You two are such dorks. Come on breakfast is ready.” Jimin says turning his back and heading back up to the cottage.

With your brother’s back turned you take a chance and grab Taehyung’s arm to pull him down to you, just enough so you can whisper in his ear

“Who said it was a one-time thing?”

You giggle when you take in his shocked expression and you skip ahead to catch up with your brother.

Taglist

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༄ kind words ༄

Warnings: mentions of unwelcome advances in Law's part Genre: fluff Characters: Luffy, Zoro, & Law Summary: How they realize they have feelings for you (words of affirmation edition) Author's Note: It's finally here! These keep getting longer and longer as I get more familiar with each character and the dynamic, especially Law's, but I don't think that's too much of an issue. I also kind of hate Luffy's but couldn't keep redoing it, so maybe I'll edit it later. Happy reading as I begin working on the next part!

masterlist

Luffy is great at giving compliments because he just says whatever he's thinking.

He gets complimented a lot as well. He's always running around and saving people, intentionally or not, so he's probably heard his fair share of compliments. I think hearing a compliment that's more deep and genuine, that comes from someone who knows him deeply, would be more meaningful than anything and would make him recognize his feelings.

~

Not every day on the Sunny was a fun adventure.

Setting out to sail across the whole world and strive for their individual goals there was bound to be hardship. Sometimes it came in the form of grueling battles with their latest enemy. Other times it was internal conflicts or disputes, simple disagreements or heated arguments.

This time, it was grief.

After so many months traveling together, the crew had learned how to tell when one of them was upset about something and needed space. Today, it had been Nami. For the past few days, her mood had been off. She'd been more quick to anger and had spent more time than was strictly necessary tending to her orange trees. Then today, she'd been even worse, snapping at Sanji's normal overbearing lovey behavior and brooding to herself under the shade of her grove.

It didn't take him long to realize what was bothering her.

Nami only ever got like this when she was thinking about Bellemere, which meant today must be the anniversary of when everything happened. The crew had spent most of the day giving her her space, allowing her to process what she was very clearly feeling. After a while, he took it upon himself to cheer her up. He made silly faces and played some of her favorite games on the deck, goading her into joining them by making bets he knew he would lose. He'd even secretly asked Sanji to incorporate oranges into their dinner. By the end of the night, Nami was laughing and she seemed a lot lighter, like whatever was weighing her down had lessened some.

Now, it was late at night, and the only sounds that could be heard on the Sunny were the lapping of waves against the ship and the snores of his crew as they slept. All except for him.

Sleep was avoiding him, so he decided that he would be much better off just joining whoever was on watch and maybe having some fun. He made his way up to the crow's nest and was happy to find you sitting on the bench, looking out across the sea.

"Oh, hi Luffy," you said, your voice quiet.

"Hi!" he said, sitting excitedly next to you on the bench as you looked out across the sea once more. "I couldn't sleep so I decided to come out and have some fun!"

You smiled, always amused by his antics.

"Well, unfortunately, there's no fun here. I'm on watch, remember?"

He pouted, knowing you were right but still disappointed anyways. You laughed at him as he whined and complained, but he didn't actually intend on distracting you, so after a while, he quieted down and let you focus.

"I hope Nami is feeling better," you said, resting your head on the arm you propped up on the window. You were frowning slightly, your eyes unfocused as your worry made itself visible on your face.

"She'll be ok, she's Nami! She's strong," he replied, no doubt in his mind that tomorrow she would be the same old Nami she had always been. "She might be sad now, but it's not forever. She has us to help her."

You hummed in agreement, a small smile on your face. He smiled himself, happy to see you smiling instead of with a frown on your face. He felt so lucky to have found a group who cared so deeply about each other.

"All that stuff you did today. It was to cheer her up, wasn't it."

You said it like a statement more than a question and he found himself smiling at how observant you were. "You figured it out. You're so smart!"

You laughed at him once again, his own laughter joining you as you said, "Of course I did. I know you wouldn't have made those bets under normal circumstances."

They had been stupidly dumb bets that left no chance for him to win and he found himself giggling as he remembered how Nami had perked up upon hearing him agree to them. He loved his crew more than anything, so what was a few beri down the drain? Your laughter subsided as you got lost in thought once more. You seemed like you were debating saying something and when you seemed to have made up your mind, he found himself sitting up straighter as you turned to look at him.

"You're a lot smarter than people give you credit for," you said, a small smile on your face and a playful admiration in your eyes.

He's not quite sure what to say to that. He's always been called stupid and to everyone's credit, he is. He doesn't think very often, preferring to act on instinct and figure out the rest of the plan later. He's been known to not read the room, to zone out during important world lessons, and to shout out the first thing that comes to mind. He doesn't think anyone has ever called him smart and for the first time in maybe his whole life, he's speechless.

"I guess that's probably not what you were expecting me to say, huh?" you teased, a light smile making its way onto your face.

He collects himself and asks, slightly incredulously, the question that's first in his mind. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, you just told me you did all that stuff to cheer Nami up, right? Someone stupid wouldn't be able to put together why she was upset and what would make her feel better. You pay attention when it counts and you're a lot more emotionally intelligent than people realize," you explain, relaxing slightly as you look out at the ocean once more. "Today it was Nami, but I've watched you help lots of people like that. Vivi, Robin, Sanji, even me. Maybe you don't say it out loud, but you pick up on people's emotions and what they need the most in that moment."

He listens as you talk and slowly realizes that you're right. He's always had a way of reading people and knowing what they really want or need, but he's never really connected it to intelligence. He always thought it was just his own special kind of stupid.

"I guess that makes me a genius!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily as your eyes widened in shock before laughing along with him.

"Maybe you are stupid after all," you say, but there's no malice in the words as you keep laughing at him.

Finally, your watch shift is over and the sun peeks up over the horizon. He'd stayed with you the entire time, just talking and goofing around until he realized how much time had passed and how tired he was. His dreams that night are filled with you and when he wakes up, your words are still floating around in his mind. Knowing that you think he's smart makes him feel funny and he thinks that maybe he should finally turn his ability to recognize people's feelings inward.

Zoro doesn't throw out compliments or encouragement left and right, he only says something if he really means it.

I think he's received his fair share of compliments, although I doubt he puts much stock in them unless they come from someone he respects. If he doesn't think there's any stock in the compliment, or on that same token an insult, why bother giving it attention? For this reason, I think getting a compliment or reassurance from you would rattle him a little and cause him to have an aha moment.

~

The town that the Sunny docked in isn't too interesting to Zoro, aside from the bar he's nestled into for the past few hours. He has a few empty glasses in front of him and he's almost done with his current one when he sees the door open.

He's not surprised when he sees multiple of the crew walk in, quickly noticing him in the corner and making their way to him. You're among them, talking to Robin about something that elicits a small laugh out of her. Begrudgingly, he scoots over and makes room for everyone in his booth as they smoosh in.

"I knew we'd find you here!" you say, the last to slide in so you're right across from him. "Already deep into your drinks, as expected."

"Shut it, woman," he grumbles, his brows furrowing as he finishes his drink and sets the cup down on the table. You laugh, looking at Robin as Usopp reluctantly hands Nami some beri. He feels his eye twitch in irritation as he notices the exchange. "Are you betting on me?"

Usopp gulps at the glare he sends his way and Nami simply smiles, dollar signs practically lighting up in her eyes as she answers, "Yep! I bet that you were already 3 drinks deep and I was right."

"We've barely even arrived! I thought-" Usopp protests, attempting to explain himself.

"You both are insufferable!"

His exclamation elicits another laugh out of you as Robin simply lifts a hand to her mouth to hide the amusement that is no doubt there. He wants to be annoyed, and he is, but he's been traveling with the lot of you for long enough that he can't really be upset, at least that genuinely. He simply huffs, waving down a server to ask for another glass.

The rest leap over each other to order their own drinks, some alcoholic, some not, and fall into easy chatter with each other. Periodically, he catches your eyes and you send him a smile, but he doesn't insert himself in the conversations, much preferring to listen. Eventually, Nami gets tired of just sitting in the bar and decides to go shopping. Usopp and Robin decide to accompany her, but you decide to stay behind. You wave, watching them go as he takes his previous spot in the booth back.

"Not in the shopping mood?" he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

"No, I'd much rather stay here with my favorite swordsman," you tease. He bristles, knowing that you're just poking him for fun, but he can't stop himself from blushing, taking a long sip from his glass to hide the blush he can feel on his cheeks.

"You're worse than that damn cook," he mumbles, his glass now sufficiently empty.

You laugh at that.

"Now that's just a lie."

He can't deny that, the corner of his lips twisting up into a smile. He's spent enough time traveling with you to know that you don't act like that with everyone, just him. The notion that you reserve this behavior for just him is both agitating and yet satisfying. He feels something possessive lick at his heart but ignores it, waving at the server for yet another drink.

He asks you about what you've been up to on the island since they docked and you happily tell him all about it. It hasn't been long so you don't have much to say and it isn't long before the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. After a while, you finally talk again and it's not what he's expecting.

"I know you'll become the greatest swordsman, Zoro."

He sputters, the sip he was taking spilling all over himself as he coughs, trying to catch his breath. He can feel his ears heating up with embarrassment and sputters, "Where the hell did that come from?"

When you look at him, your face is set in firm determination, but your eyes are soft, filled with a fondness he wishes you would direct at him more often.

"Those pirates we fought yesterday," you explain.

He thinks for a moment before he's reminded of what you're referring to. On their way to this island, they had run into a rival ship following the same course. While they hadn't intended to battle them, the ship fired at them as soon as they were in range, so they had no other choice. He remembers the fight being fairly easy, each member of the crew handling their fair share of pirates.

He also remembers one of their crew having some rather nasty words to say to him.

"You're delusional if you think you can become the greatest swordsman," he had spat, struggling to breathe. "You'll see it eventually. Even if you won this battle, you'll never achieve your dream."

He hadn't paid much attention to the words. He was confident in his own abilities and his opponent had been defeated easily, so there wasn't any point in taking his words to heart. He hadn't thought anyone was close enough to hear it and he certainly hadn't brought it up, quickly forgetting about it.

He smirked then, letting the full force of his pride show in the grin as he said, "That loser wouldn't know what it takes to be the greatest swordsman even if it smacked him in the face."

"That doesn't make any sense," you say, your face wrinkling as you giggle at his statement.

He takes another sip as your laughter dies out.

"I'm not worried about what a crap swordsman has to say about me and my dream," he says, his voice a lot more serious now as he thinks about the promise he made all those years ago. "I will become the world's greatest swordsman or die trying."

"You'll do it. I know you will."

You don't say anything after that, seemingly having said everything you intended to, but your words linger with him. The thought that you had heard the man's words and felt it was important enough to dispute them made his heart feel weird. He had never doubted himself, even when he maybe should have. He'd always been sure that his will, determination, and hard work would take him to exactly where he was supposed to be. Still, hearing your words of encouragement, hearing your genuine belief in his ability, it affected him in a way he wasn't expecting.

"You will too," he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

A few seconds go by where you don't say anything and he wonders if you'd even heard him, but one glance at you tells him that you had. You're not looking at him, your eyes averted as if you're embarrassed and your lips are curved into a small, satisfied smile. The sight makes his heart stop and he almost goes to clutch his chest before the feeling quickly passes.

Before the moment can linger, you're shooting back into conversation with him. Despite his best efforts to pay attention, he finds that his attention is drawn back again and again to your words. He knows that the crew believes in his dreams just as much as he believes in theirs. It's part of why he's so willing to protect their dreams just as fiercely as his own, but for some reason knowing that you believe in him so much really sticks with him.

He thinks about it for the rest of the day as well as late into the night when they're all back on the Sunny and setting off for the next island. He doesn't like being distracted, so he mulls over why your compliment holds so much weight for him. He values your opinion, but you're also not a swordsman, so theoretically there shouldn't be that much weight to your words. When he finally realizes, it feels like everything clicks into place and so many things start to make sense.

He acts like nothing has changed, wanting time to sit with the feelings before he decides what to do about them, but he finds it hard now that he understands the full weight of his regard for you.

Law rarely ever gives out compliments, rather preferring to show how he feels with his actions.

I think he receives a few compliments here and there, but he's built an intimidating presence and image, so I think they're far and few between. However, I think if you took him off guard with a meaningful compliment, especially if its one that he hasn't heard before, it would make him start to think about his feelings towards you.

~

"Captain, we have a problem."

Law sighs, all of the worst-case scenarios running through his mind as he turns to face Sachi. They're docked at a port town so that they can restock the Polar Tang, preparing for another few weeks underwater. It's familiar and something that the crew should be familiar with by this point. They have a routine, a schedule that rarely changes, that details who goes with who to go get what. In theory, it should go perfectly smoothly.

It never does.

"What is it, Sachi?" he asks, his grip on Kikoku tightening slightly as Sachi walks up to him with the list of crewmates and jobs in hand.

"Well, you said that nobody is allowed to go alone into town right? For safety?" he asks, only resuming once Law has hummed in agreement. "Right, well uh, unfortunately, Penguin is sick today which means his partner doesn't have anyone to go with, which wouldn't be an issue since usually we have at least one group of three but, well, they're also sick so-"

Law grumbles under his breath about getting to the damn point, grabbing the sheet from Sachi's hands to just look at the issue himself. Sachi gulps, sensing his irritation, and nervously rubs the back of his neck. The problem becomes clear very easily. His beloved crew had partied a little too hard the last few nights and now two of them were sick, leaving no group of three to split up and someone unaccompanied. He looks for Penguin's name to see who's alone and feels his heart flutter slightly when he sees your name scrawled out next to it.

"Our only two options are to either make one group get two things, which would set us back at least an hour, or...," Sachi says, trailing off slightly. The unspoken second option is clear. Law always spend their restock days on the ship. The higher his bounty gets, the higher the chance that he gets recognized, so he always finds it easier and safer for him to stay behind.

"I'll go," he relents, watching as the tension in Sachi's shoulders dissipates.

"Great. Thanks, Captain!"

Sachi disappears before he can change his mind. He sighs, looking around the collection of his crew until he finally finds you in the mix. He makes his way over, watching as you converse with Bepo, catching the very end of your sentence.

"-seems like I'll be alone today. Sachi said he would look into it, but everyone already has their pairs so I don't know who could take his place."

"That would be me," he answers, watching as both Bepo and you finally notice his approach.

"Oh! Uh, are you sure? Don't you usually spend the day on the Tang doing research?" you ask.

He ignores your improper name for the Polar Tang as he explains the situation to you. You nod, smiling as you say, "I see. Well, I'm glad to have your company then, Captain!"

He's taken aback by your words but decides to just move forward instead of dwelling on them, so he turns around and shouts, "Let's go."

"Shouldn't you probably change?"

He stops, looking down at his attire as you add, "As much as it suits you, it doesn't really hide the fact that you're a pirate, let alone our Captain."

He can't really argue with that. The Heart Pirates logo is front and center on his shirt and Kikaku is certainly not doing him any favors either. He tells you to wait and then quickly shambles himself into his room to change. He has to dig really deep in his closet before he finds a shirt that doesn't have his symbol front and center, but once he does he leaves Kikaku leaning against his wall and shambles back up to you.

By the time he's changed and came back, most of his crew is gone. You're quicker to notice him this time as a result and the two of you finally head into town.

"What are we in charge of?" he asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets now that they're not holding his sword.

"We're in charge of the medicinal herbs, Captain," you answer.

"Just Law is fine," he says, his hand fidgeting slightly as he adds, "No use in me changing if you're just going to use my title."

He sees you smile softly out of the corner of his eyes. "Right. Law it is, then."

His ears burn slightly as you say his name so effortlessly, but he brushes it off quickly and continues into town. It's not hard to find the store you're looking for and he lets you take the lead as you begin listing off the various herbs you need. It's not long before the two of you are walking through town once more, heading towards the submarine.

"Oh, look! That art is gorgeous."

He stops walking as he turns to look at what you're pointing at. There's a small stall in the marketplace's square that's selling paintings of all different sizes and mediums. He sees your eyes light up as you look at them and isn't surprised when you say, "Wait here, I'm going to go buy one."

He huffs, leaning against the wall of a nearby building where he can see the stall. He'd like to pretend that today had purely been an inconvenience, but he can't find it in himself to be that upset. While it was inconvenient that he wasn't able to spend the time studying the most recent medical book he had been interested in, the day had been pleasant. You'd made pleasant conversation with him while walking in town and your bright demeanor always seems to calm him down.

He looks back over to the stall, curious about what painting had caught your eyes, but feels his heart jolt when he doesn't see any sign of you. He stands up to his full height, hoping to catch any glimpse of you, but he still doesn't see anything. He curses to himself for letting his guard down and allowing you to somehow slip away and starts searching for you with his observation haki.

He picks up your signature in an alleyway and feels his gut churning. Not wanting to draw attention to himself by using his devil fruit powers, he quickly makes his way to where you are. As he gets closer, he hears you pleading with someone.

"Look, I'm really not interested and I have someone waiting for me, so-"

"Surely I can show you a better time than them, hm?"

He doesn't recognize the second voice but he doesn't need to to know what's going on. He feels anger burn in him as he finally turns a corner and sees a guy caging your body against the wall with both of his arms.

"I already told you, I'm not looking for that. Please let me go," you say, your hands clutching the bag of herbs you'd bought earlier as well as what looks to be whatever painting you had bought at the stall. He also sees the man take a step closer and open his mouth to talk, so he takes the opportunity to interrupt.

"You heard them," he says, his voice like venom as he enunciates, "Let them go."

The man looks at him, sizing him up as he takes a step back and lets his arms drop. "What are you, a good samaritan? Buzz off," he scoffs, turning his head back to you, clearly intending to ignore him.

He doesn't know what comes over him as he finds himself stepping closer and punching the man square on the side of his face. The man, clearly caught off guard, stumbles slightly. He doesn't give him any time to recover as he steps forward, putting himself in between you and the man whose face was now swelling up.

"What the hell?" he shouts, cradling his face as he finally catches his balance.

He can see the punch coming but knows that you're standing right behind him, so he only shifts slightly so that the punch only hits him in the shoulder. A moment afterward, it dawns on him that he can just get rid of the man, so he does.

"You're lucky I don't have my sword, or you'd be getting much worse than this," he seethes, holding his hand out as he says his classic phrase and sends the man shambling into the ocean. In his place, a mossy stone drops to the ground, echoing in the now almost empty alleyway.

When he turns around, you're staring at him speechless. He frowns slightly as he gives you a once over, checking for any visible signs of harm.

"I'm ok," you finally say, your voice shaky before you cough slightly and repeat, voice calm, "I'm ok. Just unnerved."

He doesn't take his chances and calls another room, switching you both closer to the Polar Tang. His guilt at letting you out of his sight and allowing this guy to drag you off eats at him as the two of you approach the ship. Once inside, he shambles the two of you to his examination room, pointing to the table and saying, "Sit. I want to check for injuries with the proper equipment."

You don't fight him as you make your way towards the table. You're still holding the bag and the painting until he gently takes them from you, placing them next to you on the table.

"I'm really ok La- I mean Captain," you begin, correcting yourself back to his title now that it's just the two of you.

He finds himself missing his name from you but keeps the comment to himself. He's supposed to be checking you for injuries. He's supposed to be assessing your well-being, which is only in question because of his own negligence. He frowns to himself and continues to check you for injuries without answering.

You let him, still assuring him that you're fine, that he only grabbed your arm for a moment at the stall, but he doesn't stop until he's sure that there's nothing wrong.

He sighs, finally stepping back from the table. His guilt still eats at him regardless as he goes over everything he did wrong. "I'm sorry, I should have been watching more carefully. No, I should have just come with you."

You simply smile at him in response and say, "It's my fault. I was the one who stepped away."

He doesn't have anything to say to that. He knows it's true, you did step away despite it being an explicit rule not to, but he can't deny his part in it as well. He curls his fists as the silence continues.

"Why didn't you dodge his punch?" you ask, your voice quiet.

He's surprised by the question, but also by how quickly his cheeks warm up at his answer. He looks off to the side, hiding behind his hat as he says, "You were right behind me. If I moved, he would have just punched you."

You have the audacity to laugh, loud and full as if he had just told you the funniest joke you'd ever heard and he can't help but scowl.

"You know," you start, laughter still floating in your voice, "For someone with such a cold exterior, you sure are kind."

The compliment catches him off guard. His face whips towards you as his eyes open in shock, the faint blush now burning bright red across his whole face. He meets your eyes and he doesn't see any hint of a joke.

He's heard himself called a lot of things. Scary, cold, bitter, even downright malicious, but never kind. It sends shivers up his spine as the word settles somewhere under his skin. You think he's kind. Kind.

"You're my subordinate. I'm not being kind, I'm just doing my job as your Captain," he corrects, not wanting you to misunderstand his intentions.

Your laugh this time is softer, more full of fondness, but it rustles him all the same. "You really are kind though," you insist. He's not ready for you to continue, barely able to handle the few words you've said, but that's never stopped you before. "I think you care a lot more than you want us to think. You wouldn't worry so much otherwise. Besides, you're always going out of your way to protect us. I think that makes you kind."

He doesn't know what to say, so he tries to navigate back into familiar territory. He takes a deep breath and calms his nerves, grabbing the bag of medical herbs from your side and turning around to begin putting them away. "Well, since I've checked and you don't have any injuries, there's no reason for you to stay."

He hears you shuffling around as he begins unpacking the herbs from the bag and chances a glance over at you one more time. He regrets it immediately.

You're looking at him like you can see right through him. You have your painting tucked under your arm as you look over your shoulder at him in the doorway and you're still smiling at him as if he didn't just ignore your comment and dismiss you rather rudely. It makes his heart ache, wanting to prove you right. To prove that he is kind, that he's worthy of your opinion of him, that he's worthy of your praise.

"Thank you, Captain. I enjoyed your company today."

With that, you disappear down the hallway, presumably back to your shared room to hang up your new picture. He stares at the spot you left long after you've gone, your words echoing in his mind. They rattle around in his heart until they finally settle, leaving a warm comfort he didn't know he craved.

You think he's kind.

That thought plagues his mind for the rest of the day. His guilt is completely forgotten, his mind too consumed by your compliment to make any room for it. He finds himself unable to even focus on reading the medical book that night that he missed out on reading earlier. Your words and the simple fact that you truly believed them chip away at his resolve until he finally has to come to terms with why it affects him so much. He mumbles your name, his hand clutching his heart as it beats, solidifying what he'd been ignoring for a long, long time now.

ღ radishaur — i do not own any of these characters. do not plagiarize. please enjoy and remember to be respectful! 

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (7)- Recruitment

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 2.7k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, anxiety, brief reference to torture

—

"You wanted to see me?" Natasha says as she strolls into Nick's office, him requesting her presence as soon as possible. The redhead ditched the mission reports she was doing to come and see the Director, having a feeling this was something far more important.

"How are things progressing with our Soldat Smerti?" he asks as his eye is trained on her, his expression blank as he doesn't want to give away his ideas. Natasha also keeps her face stoic as for some reason the name he called you bothered her, did he not see that your name was Y/n on the file she submitted?

"She's open to talking more, still very hesitant and cautious but that's understandable for someone who's been institutionalised for a large amount of time, especially someone who was maltreated," Natasha replies, having spent more time with you over the last couple of weeks, still delivering your food but also trying to get you to talk more, expressing how you weren't going to be hurt here.

"You have taken a liking to her," he says, a little out of nowhere, catching the redhead by surprise. "You would have made your assessment by now but you seem to be waiting for something," her jaw clenches subtly, not liking how somehow this man was always able to have some sort of read on her. "What are you waiting for?"

"She wants to accept our offer," Natasha answers honestly, the man's smile sneaking onto his lips as his own plans were falling into place, the assassin unaware of his ideas. "She's just scared."

"Do you think she could be an Avenger?" He asks and she pauses for a moment, thinking carefully about his question. She could see that same glint in your eyes that she had when she was first rescued from the red room, that hopeful glint that you would be able to be more than what they made you, but at the same time the fear of betrayal hovering at the back of your mind.

"In time, yes," Fury moves to stand from his chair, moving to lean against the front of his desk while Natasha stands in front of him, her arms crossing over her chest as the man ponders for a moment.

"Why are you so sure about her?" Natasha watches the man's curious gaze, his hands resting against the wooden desk as the redhead responds to her boss.

"When Clint didn't take his shot against me in Budapest, he told me that he had this gut feeling about me, that I could be more than what they made me," Fury listens with interest at Natasha's words, remembering the mixed emotions he felt that day when Clint disobeyed his orders but helped saved what would soon become one of his most valuable agents. "I have this same feeling about her," she confesses and the man knows not to take this lightly, the Russian never letting her emotions affect her work, renowned for her professionalism.

The room lingers in silence for a moment, both figures letting the weight of the situation settle before Fury speaks up, a plan having formed in his head.

"Talk to the team about her being potentially recruited, see what they make of it," he says and Natasha is a bit suspicious as to why she was doing it, Fury normally taking the lead on these types of situations.

"What are you going to do?" she asks and he just chuckles at her scepticism.

"I'm going to talk her into accepting our offer," he says, the smile now visible on his lips as he sees the small one tugging at the redhead's lips, "See you soon Romanoff."

***

"He wants to do what?" Steve's tone laced with disbelief as he braces his arms on the kitchen island, having just finished making a smoothie after his morning run.

"He wants us to give her a chance," Natasha answers, the super soldier letting out a sigh before taking a large sip of his drink, the rest of the team gathered in various places around the common room, listening in to the conversation.

They were all up to date about you, brief knowledge of your past and known abilities being sent to them all in your file once you were brought back into the base and put in the glass cell. They knew you were powerful and loyal, so the question was would you be able to betray Hydra and trust them.

"Why should we do that? She's done nothing to prove she won't just try and kill us all," Steve says, still bitter about the pain in his side, multiple ribs having been broken during the last encounter with you, the moment where you almost decapitated him also being added to the list as to why he wasn't fond of you. "She's powerful and dangerous," he says, caution in his tone as he tries to get his point across, "She's also clearly not in control."

"She needs our help," Wanda cuts in, taking a few by surprise as she tended to stay quiet during conversations like this, only speaking once someone asked her opinion. "We can help her, that's what we do right? As Avengers?" Her words settle in a few, Natasha smiling at the brunette woman and nodding her head subtly in appreciation.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this," Tony says, finally speaking up which was unlike his character, normally first to voice his opinion in literally anything. "I agree partly with the old man," he says, earning a disapproving look from Steve at the nickname, "We can't be sure it's safe. Statistically, the chances of her losing control or hurting one of us is extremely high."

"See someone who agrees-" Steve tries to say, being cut off by the billionaire.

"I haven't finished Capsicle," he says, a mocking smile on his lip at the other nickname he called Steve who just glared at the man. "But since when has anything we have done been safe?"

"That's because of you Tony," Steve mutters, "You're the one who always puts us in these situations,"

"Last I recall, you were the one who wanted an ex-hydra brainwashed murderer to join our team, what's different about this one?" Steve's jaw visibly clenches at Tony's description of Bucky, the brown haired man making a valid point though. You were extremely similar to Bucky, if they could help him, why couldn't they help you?

"Bucky's different," he grits out, defending his best friend while everyone else in the room notices the tension rising in the atmosphere. "I know him."

"Knew," corrects Tony, "You knew him, Hydra changed him."

"This isn't about Bucky," Natasha cuts in, not wanting a proper fight to break out between the two, the billionaire lacking the care of stepping too far over the line, Steve being far too defensive about his friend. "Look at the facts, yes she's hydra but how many of us here have a past we want to forget, we want to put behind us? She's no different to some of you when you first joined, so why should we put that against her?"

Everyone listens as Natasha takes control of the room, Clint hiding a smile at his best friend and noticing this was her moment with you. She wasn't taking her shot with you just as he did her.

"As Steve said, she's powerful, we need that if we want to stop Hydra and any other threats."

"Since when did you do the speeches Romanoff," teases Tony, already making his mind up about his stance on your potential recruitment to the team. "How about we have a vote?" he says, using his typical cocky voice to get the other's opinion, "Who thinks Y/n should join?"

In his usual manner, Tony playfully raises his arm, making a show of himself before looking around the room to see who else agrees. Wanda raises her arm up shyly, Natasha doing so more confidently, just not as dramatically as the billionaire, Clint also raising his hand up as he trusts Natasha's gut feeling about you, the rest of those in the room, being Steve, Bruce and Vision, Sam and Thor currently not available, keeping theirs down.

Steve goes to protest, but the sounds of footsteps can be heard, interrupting the conversation.

"Well, I'm glad the vote went in our favour," Fury says as he strides into the room with authority, the room going quiet as they see you standing by his side, face stoic to mask your nerves.

Everything was so loud, the electricity buzzing around the room, the tv playing in the corner, the sounds of fists clenching, bodies tensing, hearts starting to race, it was all too loud. It was overwhelming. Steve's heart in particular started to pound against his rib cage, the memories of your last encounter causing him to be tense and on edge, your gaze meeting his blue for a split second before flickering away.

They think we're a monster. They're scared and they should be.

Taunts the darkness, your mask slipping for a second, showing a brief sense of doubt behind your eyes before your face returns to being stoic, mind fighting the gnawing corruption and forcing it to be silent.

"Meet Y/n, your new teammate," Fury says nonchalantly but also in a tone that leaves no room for argument, a few shocked faces as Natasha said potential teammate, not someone who would be joining instantly.

"Fury..." Steve's voice dies out with the glare sent his way, your eyes fixated on the view out of the window, everything else seeming to fade away.

 The compound overlooked acres and acres of field and forest, the sun gently shining down onto the grass causing it to look vibrant, the simple sight of nature almost a phenomenon to you. Too busy staring out of the window, you miss the small smile that creeps up on Natasha's face, Fury going to have a private word with a few of the team while you slowly made your way towards the windows.

You could feel a few people staring at you, your mind trying to stop the racing thoughts and focus on calming down, not wanting to have some sort of panic attack from all the attention on you. You had to block out the incessant heartbeats, the signs of their fear and tried to focus on the steady one nearby. Only once you turned your head did you realise that it was Natasha who was calm, casually walking up to you as you turned your head back to admire the view.

"It's beautiful," you whisper, not used to having such a clear view of outside your surroundings. You were used to concrete walls surrounding you, or even glass ones in a secure room, not the large windows that practically filled the entire wall, displaying the wonders of the outside world.

"It is," she murmurs back, turning her gaze from you to back outside. The others watched from the distance as you two stood near the window, Natasha talking to you while you made sure to memorise every detail you possibly could about the view. "What made you accept the offer?" she asks, curious as to what Fury must have said to you to get you to finally accept it, her emerald eyes scanning over your relaxing features.

Before you can reply, the sound of Steve's voice becoming louder interrupts the moment, Fury's stare hardening at the super soldier.

"This is going to go wrong, it isn't the right move," he says in warning before grabbing his smoothie and leaving the room, shaking his head as he enters the elevator, "I thought we did things as a team Fury, made decisions together."

"You did and you were outvoted," Fury replies and Steve just scoffs at the idea they were using a random voting method to decide your place on the team. He doesn't bother arguing back, letting the doors shut, Fury dismissing everyone and asking for you to join him in the kitchen, away from everyone.

"Remember our deal," he says, tone serious as he addresses you, "Any indication that you're not being honest with us, and you're straight back in a cell, don't make me have to do that Soldier." You nod in understanding, eyes flickering over to a glass on the table, your reflection staring back at you.

What have you done? This was a trap.

Get us out now. If you don't do it, I will. I won't be merciful.

The darkness claws at your mind, your stare going blank for a second as Fury continues to talk to you. The man notices how you seem to grow distant for a second, blinking before returning your attention towards him.

"I will leave you to adjust to everything," he says, catching the nervousness in your eyes and assuming it was from the new environment, not your broken mind. He knows it will be hard to adjust, but he has faith in the rest of the team to help you, especially after the talk he just gave them.

With Fury gone, you're left to sit alone, basking in your thoughts as Natasha holds back with Wanda, watching how the witch seems to be able to hear some of your thoughts while also keeping an eye on you, reading your body language.

Your leg bounces steadily, fingers gripping the glass a little too tight, her brows furrowing at how anxious you seem, never having showed signs like this when you were with her in the cell.

They're always going to be scared of the Soldat.

They sneer, your fingers loosening around the glass as you can feel it straining, about to shatter, the darkness laughing at the close call of losing control already.

You're going to snap. Lose control. This will all be for nothing because I will get out. I will get out and do what needs to be done.

You remain quiet, not in the position to be able to snap back at the darkness, letting them taunt and tease you, trying to get you to lose your composure. You had to learn how to deal with them, how to keep them under control, otherwise they were right. You would snap.

I can't wait to watch the life drain from their eyes, to watch them suffer.

Your jaw clenches painfully, their words purposely trying to rile you up, to prove Steve right that you were dangerous, but you don't react as Natasha comes to sit next to you. She sees straight through the small smile you send her way, Wanda having quietly told her that your static-like mind was growing louder and you needed some sort of distraction, and decides to inform you of the plan for the rest of the day, Fury having told her before he left.

"You've got a busy day ahead of you," she teases softly, emerald eyes matching her tone as she watches you fight yourself internally, your gaze eventually turning to meet her gentle one. "I'll show you around the compound first, then it's medical tests quickly and then showcasing your skills so we have a better understanding of your abilities, is that alright?"

"Medicals?" you say, hesitation evident in your eyes, Natasha's gaze going to your fingers , how they subconsciously trace your veins where you were most likely tested on before.

You can remember the agony you felt from all the injections they forced into you, the searing pain that felt like it was burning you from the insides, test after test, torture after torture, you didn't want to go through that again.

"We just check your vitals to make sure you're healthy," she explains, still watching how your fingers moved to trace a scar instead, your mind still processing something.

"Would I be alone?"

"I'll be there with you," her tone reassuring, the redhead noticing how you visibly relax, hands dropping to your sides to rest. "Now come on, we've got an entire compound to go around," she says with a playful smile, standing up from the chair and motioning for you to follow her, ready to give you a tour of hopefully your new home.