#how much do teacher assistant get paid

[bellaveux]

BETWEEN THE PAGES | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

genre: college au! fluff, smut

summary: professor maximoff asks you out on a date.

content warnings: MINORS DNI! fluff, smut, college au!, unspecified age gap, professor!wanda, student!reader, bit of alcohol consumption, smut; service top!wanda, power bottom!reader kinda, making out, marking, fingering and oral (r! receiving), overstimulation, little bit of a praise kink

word count: 9.5k

note: i’ve been meaning to write another professor!wanda and black cat!reader fic so wrote this as kind of a prequel to AFTER CLASS but it’s long overdue lol. i hope u like it!

You always came to class early. That was the first thing she noticed about you. But, there was something about the way you entered her lecture hall for the first time, sitting just a few rows away from her desk, close enough for her to see you without anyone getting in the way. It was something about you that was so endearing. She just couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about you that made her stomach flutter and her heart beat faster than it typically does. Usually dressed in a skirt that gracefully swayed with each step and a cozy sweater that hugged your figure, you never failed to greet her with a shy smile each day you entered the room, and each time she swooned. Too cute. It was like that for the first few months: watching the door patiently to see when you would walk in, stealing glances your way when you were seated in front of her as she taught, or occasionally looking over the book she was reading while you were taking a test, reading a book, or working on notes. She couldn’t help it. It also didn’t help that you were not only beautiful but smart, too. Every test, assignment, and project she had given out, you nailed them with ease, almost like you'd already mastered the subject prior to her teachings. Perfect was what you were. She thought about it every day.

As each day passed, Wanda always looked forward to the days when you would enter her class. And she wasn’t trying to be a creep about it in any way, but she couldn’t help but look… and wonder. She wondered about what you were like outside of her class, if you were just as reserved and quiet as you were in here or if you were bubbly and talked a lot, and what your voice sounded like. You were quiet. And it wasn’t a quality that she didn’t like at all; in fact, it only made her more intrigued, like you were a mystery that she wanted to solve. In the quiet moments, when the world slowed down, her thoughts would invariably drift to you—your earnest gaze, your subtle smiles, the way your eyes seemed to light up the room.

But despite the elation of her thoughts of you, she makes sure to remind herself why you were here in the first place: you were her student. And for your professor to have such thoughts about one of her students, it was wrong. She knew this from the beginning. But try as she might to suppress her emotions, Wanda found herself captivated by your presence anyway.

And she really tried, to be fair. She tried to ignore her thoughts of you in her head, but she could only do so much. In the end, she couldn’t resist asking you to meet her after class during her office hours. She’d try multiple times to find the most credible excuse to get you to stay, and usually, she’d opt for subjects regarding your work and even ask you if you were interested in being a teacher’s assistant. Who in their right mind would decline that offer? You’d get paid on top of being alone in the same room with your favorite professor—the, despite her intimidating looks, easygoing professor that you had been fond of since day one. In fact, everyone liked her. Most of the students thought she was hot anyway, which you had to agree on as well.

The work she had you do was simple, for the most part. Grading papers and organizing paperwork and files for her were the most common tasks she gave you. Eventually she had you read a few essays and reports, asking you to judge how well they were written. Wanda thought of it as a learning experience—to read, collect your thoughts, elaborate, and then discuss with you on that same subject. It was a little nerve-racking, to say the least, but really, you enjoyed every second you spent with this professor. Especially since she was so nice to you.

And you’d be lying if you said you had never noticed her lingering eyes on you on several occasions. Sometimes she stands behind your seat and leans over to see your assignments, and you can smell her sweet perfume and feel her breath against the top of your head. Then, you’d be lying a second time if you said it didn’t make your stomach flutter each time she got close to you.

Of course, with the quiet moments you shared together each week, you began to notice some things you'd never noticed before: how she's unable to get to work without a hot cup of tea using that old, faded, and chipped mug that the university gave her a couple years ago, how she spends an extra few minutes in her office at the end of each day because she always misplaces her ID card, or how she constantly has her nose stuck in a book—a poetry book you’d often see, when she wasn’t reading those one of those meaty, mind-bending volumes.

And as time went by, you also began to notice more and more the way she would look at you. It wasn’t as if you were completely oblivious to her stares. You could see clearly when her eyes would linger a little longer than necessary, occasionally catching the flicker of a smile that your professor seemed to suppress. It was as if you had developed a sixth sense for each time her demeanor shifted or her eyes would trace over you, just as she was doing now.

"Is everything alright, Professor?" You say, your voice coming out smoothly, cutting through the quietness that filled the room.

"Yes, I’m fine." Wanda cleared her throat and turned away from you, her eyes darting back to the book she was supposedly reading. "It’s, um... I’m just lost in my thoughts."

"Lost in your thoughts or lost in trying not to stare too obviously?"

Your professor’s eyebrows twitched upwards, your question pinking her cheeks as she turned the page of her book mindlessly while attempting to hide her smile. "I assure you, (Y/n). This book is… intense."

"Intense?" You rolled your eyes, not entirely convinced by her excuse, as your eyes traced the cover of her book. "Hmmm, The Book of Nature… William Wordsworth?"

Wanda skimmed through the pages of her book and cleared her throat for the second time, "It's a deep exploration of... um, philosophical concepts. Quite thought-provoking, really."

"Philosophical concepts?" You repeated with a sly smile playing lightly at your lips. "Are you sure that’s what it’s about? If I remember correctly, Wordsworth is a poet, right? And you look pretty relaxed for someone who’s reading about some intense philosophical poetry."

"Well, I think philosophical debates can be strangely soothing sometimes," she told you with a chuckle, slowly making her way out of the nervous state she was in just a moment ago.

"Really? I mean, I love poetry, but that’s quite the intellectual balance you’ve got there."

"Yeah," she breathed, her confidence seemingly flowing from her body right in front of your eyes as she used a finger to adjust the collar of her button-up. "And speaking of balance, how do you manage to keep your work in check while being so captivatingly distracting?"

The blush that paints your cheeks presents itself much more quickly than you could’ve imagined. It was adorable. Managing to turn away from her this time, you avoid her eyes as yours land back down on the papers that were set in front of you, completely forgotten while being under your professor’s gaze. You could practically feel the smile on her face as she watched your every movement. Wanda pulled her office chair closer to yours, where you had brought an extra chair up to her desk as you worked. She set her book down softly, mindlessly leaning in closer and closer to your face as her eyes kept darting between your eyes and those delicious-looking lips of yours. Her tongue dragged itself along the bottom of her lip subconsciously as she stared at you, not even hiding her intentions this time.

"You make it awfully hard to concentrate, (Y/n)," she continued as her eyes traced over the contours of your face, down to the skin of your neck as it strained slightly underneath the collar of your sweater. "I find it rather difficult to stay focused when you’re sitting in front of me."

"Um, Professor… I think we should…" With a flustered smile and stern eyes, you motioned over to the clock right by the door, notifying her that her time with you was nearly up.

Wanda only smiled before speaking again, nodding her head as she leaned back slowly to glance over to check the time, "Of course. Do carry on with your student duties, Miss (L/n)."

To be honest, it’s the first time she has heard you talk so much. Your voice was delicate and smooth, a voice that she wanted to keep hearing over and over again. Talking to you was something she wanted more of. She was quite smug, thinking about how all the rest of the students who admired you for your intelligence and work ethic didn’t get to talk with you as much as she did or spend time with you as much as she did.

A triumphant warmth spread through Wanda's chest as she turned back to read her book. Successfully making you flustered had ignited a sense of giddiness she hadn't felt in a while. But, a calm smile played on her lips, a facade she effortlessly maintained to match your demeanor, masking the happiness that bubbled within her. It’s evident throughout the days, where fragments of her infatuation for you are sprinkled into every moment you spend together. In those moments, she loved everything about you—from the way you worked and focused on your tasks, to the way your voice sounded despite not talking all that much, to the way you furrowed your eyebrows when your eyes stumbled upon something that confused you, or when your lips would curve into that pretty smile she loved to see so much.

Eventually, Wanda came to terms with her feelings rather quickly, but made no move to pursue them just yet. For you to be her lover was something that was not allowed, especially in her profession. She’d also still have to tackle the subject of whether or not you harbored even the slightest similarity about whether you had the same interest as she did for you. During moments where she would sit alone in her office or at home, she’d often let her mind drift off to the thought of you and how she would treat you if she were able to call you hers. Gifts like flowers, books, or jewelry would gladly be given as attempts to make you happy. She’d give you flowers every day if it allowed her to see that smile of yours for even just one second.

The two of you spend the rest of the semester filled with mindless flirting and grading essays, projects, and assignments, all while Wanda reads most of the time, and by reading, you mean she skims over a couple pages and spends the next few minutes admiring the beauty that is you before her. And sometimes, she lets her mind wander just as her eyes do, down to the skin of your thighs underneath those black tights, wondering how it would feel to have her hands all over your legs. She wonders how you would sound, moaning her name as you give her the sweet taste of heaven. If you hadn't been so engrossed in the activity your mind was occupied with, you'd see how her eyes latch to your frame and the way her mouth waters at the sight. It takes everything in her to keep her composure and not pull you into her private office and have her way with you.

She wants to do this correctly, of course. She wants you to want it, too. Though, it may seem like you return her advances and all the rest of her flirty remarks, she wants to make sure it’s something you are sure of.

So, she asks. And she starts by giving you a gift.

"Shakespeare?" You questioned curiously, running a finger along the spine of the book as a shy smile slowly etched its way onto your face. "I didn’t really take you for a romantic, Professor."

She had given you a gift before you were able to step away so soon from her and her class room. The book—The Sonnets by William Shakespeare—rested neatly in the palm of your hand as Wanda watched you inspect it with eager curiosity. You had mentioned your love of poetry once, and with her own collection sitting in the comfort of her own home, she decided to give you one of the books that she loved so much. It was romantic and a tad bit cliché, she’d have to admit, but to make you happy just as you did for her was the only thing she wanted from this.

Wanda brought a hand up to scratch the back of her neck, her eyes darting down to the book in your hand, "Well, I-I appreciate the beauty in romance, yes."

"Thank you for this. I’ll make sure to read it over break," you say, holding the book tightly between your chest and your arm before turning to make your way out of the door. "See you next semester."

Wanda had pondered it, thinking how long the two weeks of winter break would feel with you away from her. The weekends already felt like too long of a wait before Monday came around—the first day of each week when you stepped foot in her class. She looked forward to every day because of you and loved thinking about you on the weekends, then she’d repeat it all over again. But, two weeks. Two whole weeks without seeing that pretty face of yours or hearing that quiet, pretty voice of yours—it sounded dreadful.

"(Y/n)?" She called out to you before you could step out of her empty lecture hall. "Can you stay for a bit? I have something to ask."

She asked you out to dinner in the next few minutes after going on a quite adorable ramble about her being so enamored by you that she couldn’t help but ignore her own boundaries as your professor and ask you out on a date. She was confident but, at the same time, so anxious to hear what you had to say about it. The stare you gave her after her little speech was enough to make her want to dig a hole so deep into the earth and crawl into it so that she’d never be able to see the light of embarrassment. Wanda watched as you clutched the book she gave you tightly in your arms. By this point, she was so sure you’d turn her down given how long you were taking to answer.

Of course, when you answered, she couldn’t process it correctly for the first few seconds, but as soon as she did, her eyes lit up just as brightly as the sun on a clear day. The smile she was biting back was contagious, making you roll your eyes and smile back as she fought the urge to wrap her arms around you. And for a moment, you even thought as if you could imagine a tail wagging back and forth behind her in excitement. You both agreed on next Friday night at eight in the evening, when she would pick you up, take you out to a nice restaurant, and treat you like a queen. You deserved a lovely evening out, and Wanda couldn’t wait to share it with you.

As she went about her daily tasks leading up to that Friday, an uncontainable excitement welled up within her, and she couldn't help but steal moments to envision the evening ahead, leaning back in her office chair to imagine the upcoming night with a dreamy smile on her face, the prospect of sharing dinner and conversation with you filling her mind. Her heart raced with anticipation, wondering what you’d wear on that night, wondering how even prettier you would seem so close next to her, wondering how your hand would fit in hers, and wondering if you’d let her steal a kiss or two, or maybe, if she was lucky, even more. And god, she prayed for all of the luck to be on her side for even just one night.

When Friday came, Wanda rushed home from her office at the university to get ready before she would drive to pick you up at the address you had emailed her—she forgot to ask where you lived, but before she could ask, you had emailed her your address a couple hours earlier. She smiled at the thought, being so excited for the date that she forgot to ask one of the most important questions. Wanda settled on wearing an all-black suit, one of her favorites, and made sure to smooth out every wrinkle with a precise touch, each movement revealing the anticipation bubbling beneath her calm exterior. She knew that your choice of attire was a mystery, and her all-black ensemble was a versatile canvas, ready to complement whatever you had in mind.

But, fuck, when she saw you—God, she was just in pure awe at the sight of you.

Wanda arrived a little bit early, the anticipation of your dinner date bubbling within her. She parked her car outside of your apartment building and leaned against it, one foot casually crossing over the other. She glanced at her watch, checking the time, but her heart raced with a different kind of countdown. As the moments passed, Wanda’s excitement only grew. But when you finally emerged from the building, the sight that greeted Wanda left her speechless. The dress you wore wrapped around your frame perfectly, the silky fabric resting on your soft curves, along with a daring slit that ran up your thigh, revealing a glimpse of your leg with each step you took, and it drove her absolutely crazy. Wanda's breath caught in her throat as she gazed at you; the sight of your shy smile made her heart race even faster.

Fuck, she wanted to say. And for a moment, she struggled to find her words, but not less than a second later, she managed to regain her composure, a smitten grin forming on her lips, "You look beautiful, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Professor," you replied, smiling innocently up into her eyes in a way that drove her insane. "You’re looking pretty amazing as well."

Wanda couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at your compliment, but she was still spellbound by the stunning vision before her. She offered her arm to you and walked with you towards the car, opening the car door for you. But, she couldn't shake the image of that tantalizing slit in your dress; the glimpse of your leg driving her senses into overdrive.

Throughout the night, Wanda found it nearly impossible to tear her gaze away from that slit in your dress. The subtle but alluring glimpse of your skin had cast a spell on her, igniting a fire of desire and fascination that she struggled to contain. Each moment she spent with you, Wanda's mind wandered, and she’d stumble on her words as she spoke, all because of her thoughts returning again and again to the sight that had driven her senses wild earlier. She couldn't help but steal glances at that tantalizing slit in your dress whenever you shifted or crossed your legs, her heart racing each time her eyes traced the path upward. And every now and then, you would catch Wanda's lingering gaze, a knowing smile playing on your lips. You seemed to relish the effect your attire had on your professor, your confidence growing as the evening progressed.

The date was going splendidly, with you and Wanda engaging in lively conversations, sharing stories, and relishing each other's company. You laughed together, savored delicious meals, and exchanged meaningful glances that hinted at your growing connection. Both of you were having a great time, enjoying the chemistry and camaraderie that seemed to come so naturally. However, your dress, still with its tantalizing slit, had become a magnetic force that Wanda found impossible to resist. It was as if her mind had been spellbound, repeatedly drawn back to that alluring detail with every glance in your direction. While you spoke passionately about your love for literature and your dreams, Wanda tried her best to maintain eye contact and stay engaged in the conversation. But time and again, her gaze would wander, trailing along the path of that tempting slit.

She stared all night, wondering what it would feel like to run her fingertips against your soft skin, wondering how you’d look when you slip out of your dress slowly, wondering how you’d sound—and the precious imagery alone caused all higher brain function to abandon her.

As the night continued, Wanda couldn't help but feel overwhelming happiness. Your presence was intoxicating, and your smile was a beacon that lit up the evening. It was a feeling she had longed for—the joy of being in the company of someone who not only understood her intellectually but also stirred something deeper within her. You were perfect. So perfect. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. Wanda was proud to have even come this far with you and wondered if you’d allow her the chance to take you out for a second time. She would be glad, too. God, she prayed you’d want to.

Dinner ended sooner than both of you would have liked. Wanda found herself lost in the sight of you the whole night, wishing she could linger in the moment a little while longer. And the idea of taking you home felt like an interruption to a masterpiece still in progress. She held your hand as she walked with you slowly down the path back to her car, which was parked a few ways away for this very reason.

But there was one thing Wanda couldn’t get off of her mind as she led you inside her car and started the drive back to your apartment—your lips. She wanted so badly, more than anything, to kiss you. Those lips that had been speaking to her for the entire night—she wanted to taste them and feel them against hers. With every passing streetlight, the desire to lean over and capture your lips at every red light only grew stronger. Her heart raced, and her fingers gripped the steering wheel every time she thought about it. The desire to taste the sweetness of your lips was undeniable. Yet, she hesitated. The night had been so perfect, and she didn't want to rush things.

"Thank you for tonight, Professor," you softly as soon as the car came to a slow stop in front of your building. "I had a wonderful time."

"Well, it’s not every day I get to have dinner with someone as beautiful as you," Wanda said, turning her head to face you as her hand gripped the steering wheel.

"You really know how to lay it on thick, don't you, Professor?" You rolled your eyes, trying to fight back the laugh that almost spilled from your mouth.

Wanda grinned from ear to ear and glanced at the street in front of her for only a moment, "I mean, only when it’s the truth—"

Mid-sentence, just as Wanda spoke, you leaned in and planted a soft, sweet kiss on her cheek, maybe a tad bit close to the corner of her lips. It was a sudden, tender gesture that caught Wanda completely off guard, making her grip tighten around the gear shift of the car. Then, you gently place your soft hand on top of hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and affection. You don’t miss the way her ears turned red as you pulled away from her face.

Eventually, Wanda found her voice, though it was tinged with surprise as she stammered out, "Well, that was... unexpected."

In her mind, truthfully, she wanted to ask you to do it again and again and again. Maybe she’d ask for you to kiss her lips next time, but she’d never let you go off to do anything else.

"I think you’re too much of a flatterer," you chuckled softly, your fingers gently tracing the outline of Wanda's hand on the center console. "Do you say that to all of your students, Professor?"

Still slightly stunned from the tiny kiss, Wanda turned to face you. Her usual composure had been momentarily shattered by the feeling of your lips against her skin, and she met your eyes with a genuine, heartfelt sincerity, "No… just you."

The words slipped out of her mouth, unfiltered and genuine, carrying with them the depth of her feelings. In that moment, Wanda realized that her attraction to you was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It wasn't just casual flirting with someone who she thought was pretty, as she did in the beginning; it was something deeper, something that had taken her by surprise the longer she had gotten to know you. Wanda's heart continued to race as she watched your playful expression soften, replaced by a warm and genuine smile.

"Do you want to come in, Professor?"

Wanda, still feeling the electrifying effects of the way your lips felt, faltered once more. The idea of spending more time with you was undeniably tempting, but she knew that if she continued this evening further, it would require every ounce of her self-control. Her hands ached to touch you, to run them along your waist and hips, and she longed to press her lips against yours over and over again. The dress you wore was not much help either; her eyes were always glancing down to that slit that showed off the soft skin of your leg. In her mind, a hundred affirmations echoed, each one urging her to say yes. So, she did.

You led her towards your apartment, hand in hand, walking down the softly lit halls of the building in a happy, expectant silence. Although she tried to hide it, Wanda could feel her own excitement building to an almost unbearable level. Her heart raced, and her breaths came a touch quicker as you led her to your place, the feeling of your hand in hers setting her skin on fire. When you reached the door, you fumbled for your keys with one hand, your other still firmly clasped with Wanda's. Your movements were deliberate, yet there was an undeniable excitement radiating from you, a subtle telltale sign that you, too, were looking forward to what lay ahead.

A sense of comfort washed over Wanda as she stepped inside, the atmosphere of your warm apartment enveloping her as she followed you in. She watched your hips as you walked in front of her, her cheeks and ears reddening at the sight once more. Your space was also thoughtfully decorated, exuding a lived-in charm that made it feel like home.

"I’m sorry about the mess. It’s usually tidier, I promise," you tell her, placing your bag gently on the counter in the kitchen before turning back to look at her. "I honestly wasn’t planning on inviting you in yet, but… I don’t know; I guess I couldn’t help myself."

Wanda, however, didn't seem the least bit bothered. Her warm smile remained unwavering, and she looked around with genuine appreciation. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her hands now stuffed into the pockets of her pants, coolly leaning against the wall, "No, I don’t mind it. And it’s not messy at all. It’s a lovely home."

Her eyes roamed over your cozy living room with its soft, inviting couch, adorned with a few well-placed cushions. The warm glow of dimmed lamps bathed the room in a soft, comforting light. Bookshelves lined one wall, their shelves cradling an eclectic collection of literature, each book seeming to hold a story of its own. The scent of a vanilla-scented candle lingered in the air. It was a cozy, lived-in scent that made Wanda feel instantly at ease—a reflection of you and everything you loved. And on your coffee table, amidst your own collection of books, she saw the one she had given you. It lay there, open and well-loved, with pages slightly ruffled and a bookmark placed near the end. In no way would Wanda have minded the mess at all, not when she was surrounded by the tokens of you and your life.

"I’m almost done with it," Wanda heard you say as she looked around your apartment. "The sonnets are really beautiful. I think I’m enjoying it better than his plays."

The professor raised an eyebrow at your claim, "Bold statement, (Y/n)… But I’m glad you’re enjoying it."

You smiled at her as you moved to get two glasses and a bottle of wine that you’ve been saving for special occasions, and this was definitely one of them. But when you turned to look back at Wanda, her gaze, once warm and affectionate, had intensified with desire and lust as she watched you pour the wine into the glasses. Her eyes held an unmistakable hunger, as if you were the most captivating thing in the world, and it didn't go unnoticed. Wanda's stare was so intense and filled with longing that it seemed to sear through you like a fiery caress. It made your heart race, and your breaths quickened as you tried to maintain your composure. With that look in your eye, you knew this night was about to get even more special.

"What are you thinking so hard about over there, Professor?" You asked with a smirk that made Wanda weak in her knees.

Wanda shook her head and bit her lip, her cheeks reddening at the topic of her own thoughts. She made her way towards you as you slowly lifted the wine glass to your lips. And although you were occasionally flustered by her intense gaze, you had a reputation for your own brand of composed charm. Wanda approached the counter where the wine glasses were placed, her fingers lightly caressing the stem of a glass as she lifted it herself. Her movements were fluid and sensual, drawing your attention like a moth to a flame. But this time, when she turned to face you, she found herself locked in a gaze that mirrored her own desire. Your eyes held a magnetic allure, an intensity that matched Wanda's in every way—your look was a silent challenge, a dare to see who would break first.

You brought the wineglass to your lips, and the woman in front of you watched with a heightened sense of awareness, her gaze locked onto the way your lips delicately touched the rim of the glass. Your soft and inviting lips seemed to beckon Wanda like an irresistible temptation. They glistened with the remnants of the wine, and a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. She couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to taste those lips and feel their softness against her own. She wondered how your lips would feel, how they would respond to her touch, and how you’d moan into her mouth. And she couldn’t get her mind off of it.

"Professor," you spoke, setting your glass down on the counter before stepping close in front of her. "I think… you’re thinking too much."

Wanda’s anticipation was palpable, and she held her breath as you closed the distance between the two of you, her heart pounding in her chest. As you stood so close, your breaths nearly mingling, you sensed that she was still overthinking the moment. And finally, in a bold move, your hands reached out, gently tugging on her suit jacket, pulling her even closer. The touch was electrifying, sending a shiver down her spine as your lips met hers in a deep kiss. Wanda's breath caught in her throat as your lips met hers, and she melted into the kiss with a soft groan, moaning at the sweetness of your lips that she had been waiting all night to feel.

You led her to your bedroom with your lips never leaving hers and your arm around her neck while your other hand pulled her jacket roughly off her shoulders. A laugh bubbles against your mouth as you trip over the rug on the way to your room, but Wanda catches you with a chuckle, her hands at your waist holding you against her. Your lips fit so perfectly against hers, and the taste of you on her tongue unlocked all of the desires she had been trying to keep at bay. All she could think about was you. Mere seconds have gone by when your back finally meets the soft comfort of your bed, all while Wanda explores your mouth with her tongue. She indulges herself in the taste of you and tugs desperately at your dress, just as you tried to undo her belt, albeit poorly. The gasp you let out when Wanda moved her head down to your neck, sucking, licking, and nipping at your sensitive skin, distracted you from your current task, leaving her belt loosely unbuckled.

"Mmh, Professor…" Your bedroom was painted with your needy moans and Wanda’s soft grunts as she pressed herself against you, your body pressed in between her and the mattress.

"Wanda," she murmured into your neck, leaving marks on your skin as her mouth explored. "You can call me Wanda… Please."

You smiled and ran your hand through her hair, urging her to look at you and bring her face close to yours just for you to say her name in the sultriest way that made the woman in front of you physically stutter, "Wanda."

Wanda swallows the lump in her throat, dazed as she watches your lips as you spoke out her name. She parted her lips, unaware of the hazy look in her eyes as she stared at you. Dragging her tongue over her bottom lip, she subconsciously leaned in to press another kiss to your sweet mouth, but you cupped her face with a soft yet commanding touch before she could close the distance. Wanda's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as your gentle fingers caressed her skin. She felt a shiver run down her spine as your touch lingered, trailing slowly from her face, down her neck, and over her collarbone. Your hands moved with deliberate tenderness, unbuttoning the rest of her shirt one button at a time.

And she could only watch; her eyes locked onto your hands as if they were the most mesmerizing thing in the world. Your movements were slow, each button releasing its hold on the fabric with a soft, tantalizing pop. Wanda, lost in the sensations of your touch, was in a daze once again. Her eyes remained fixed on your hands, watching as they worked their way down, unbuttoning her shirt one by one. Your fingers brushed against her skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake. With the last button undone, you gently slid Wanda's shirt off her shoulders, and it slipped down her arms, a whisper of fabric gliding to the floor. You couldn’t help but smile at her, hovering over you with a black bra on, her pants unbuckled, and her hair tousled from all of the making out. God, was she beautiful.

And Wanda thought the same thing about you, if not more. You still had your dress on, and the way you spread your legs a bit so she could settle comfortably on top of you did nothing but make her feral. Wanda’s mouth practically watered at the sight of your exposed skin. With a gentle and curious hand, her fingers danced along the skin of your leg, slipping under that same tantalizing slit that had been teasing her the whole night. She kissed your chest as she did so, but with the way you were squirming underneath her, Wanda couldn’t get the thought of your hot, naked, trampling body out of her head. And she could feel it—fuck, that lacy underwear you were wearing—as if you had planned this all along. It was driving her absolutely insane.

"You can take my clothes off for me," you whispered lowly into her ear, and for a moment, Wanda froze at your words.

Soon enough, her hands started pulling roughly at every piece of fabric she could get her hands on. She needed to see you. She was going to lose it if she didn’t see you. And despite how rough her hands were, Wanda carefully slipped the dress off of your body, undoing its zipper in a way you almost didn’t notice. But all caution was thrown out the window when Wanda finally laid eyes on your half-naked body. It was black lace underwear that you were sporting, and all she could think about was how stunning you looked. She sat there for a while, frozen and heated, her eyes raking over every inch of your body. To think that you were wearing this underneath that goddamn dress this whole time, god, it makes her absolutely exasperated with desire.

"I’m getting a bit cold here, Professor," you smirk, your fingers trailing up her pants, finally meeting her undone belt once again. "Warm me up a little?"

"Yes ma’am," Wanda breathed out and nodded, her hand ghosting over your skin once more as you opened your arms and urged her to come closer—the sight causing her to melt and a question she didn’t even think twice about spilling from her mouth. "Can I fuck you? Please?"

Almost immediately, Wanda leaned down and pressed her face against your body, littering soft and hot kisses along your stomach, up the valley of your breasts, your collarbones, and to your neck. She would lick, suck, and kiss all over again, marking your skin with the prettiest bruises. You almost forget to answer her question when she starts kissing you, but she pleaded once more. To let her do whatever she wanted, just say the word, and she’ll make sure to make you feel so fucking good.

"Please," she begged you, whining only slightly as she kissed your neck. "Please, (Y/n). Please—I'll do anything, I—"

"Touch me there," you said, slipping your hand into hers to lead it down to your warm, clothed center. "Right there, Wanda."

You let her fingers press against the fabric, feeling how undeniably soaked you were. Without a second thought, Wanda immediately circles your clothed pussy with the pads of her fingers, just getting lost in the feeling of your wet heat. Her jaw slowly drops as she watches her own fingers play with your cunt. She pressed even harder the moment she finds your clit underneath the thin fabric and when you moaned, arching your back slightly in the process, she lost all self-control. You don’t even get a second to catch your breath as Wanda immediately starts clawing at your underwear, pulling your bra off of your chest in the quickest way possible. And, when she moved her hands back to your panties to uncover the very treasure she was yearning for, you suddenly heard an unmistakable sound—the sound of fabric tearing.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as Wanda stared at the torn piece of underwear in her hands, "Did you just—"

"I’m sorry." Then she kissed you to give you something else to think about other than the fact that she just ripped your precious, laced underwear.

"You ripped—"

She kissed you again, murmuring against your lips, "I’m sorry, baby."

"That was expensive, you know. I just got it last week," you said, rolling your eyes, wrapping your arms around her neck as she continued to kiss your skin all over again. And it was working—when you felt her lips kissing you and sucking on you, you could barely think about anything else.

The corner of Wanda’s lips turned upward at the thought of you buying lingerie just for her, "I said, I’m sorry. I’ll get you another one, I promise… But, right now, I really want to fuck you. I want to fuck you until you can't move. Let me make you feel better, baby? Please."

Wanda's plea hung in the air, her voice a desperate whisper filled with desire. When she turned to look back at you, she did so with an intensity that made your heart race even faster. Already blushing from the heat of the moment, you felt your cheeks grow even hotter and hotter. Your gaze locked onto Wanda's lidded eyes, and you could see clear as day the raw need inside of them.

Your lips parted, and a deep, crimson blush spread across your cheeks. With a soft voice, almost breathless, you finally gave in, "You’re lucky I like you, Professor."

You were going to say more, but you couldn’t help the gasp that fell from your lips when Wanda dips two fingers into your pussy without any warning. She could feel you tense up around her waist, and your hands moved to grip her biceps as she started pumping into you at a slow pace, easing her way up to a faster one. Wanda’s jaw dropped once again, moaning as she felt just how tight, warm, and wet you were around her fingers. She could feel every sliver of you, your spongy walls wrapping around her digits, and you gasping right into her ear. God, it was so perfect. You are so perfect. She could fuck you like this forever.

"Does that feel good?" she asked, looking up at you with lidded eyes while her fingers continued to make their way in and out, in and out.

"Yes, right there," you nod quickly, moaning in her ear as your grip on her arms got tighter, trying to hold on for dear life as Wanda gradually got faster and faster. "You feel so good inside of me, Wanda. So good—ah!"

The woman reveled in your praise, unable to hold back her own moans as she watched her fingers, glistening with your slick, sink deeper and deeper.

"You’re sucking my fingers in, baby." And you truly were. Her fingers are buried deep in your pussy, and almost immediately, she finds that weak, spongy spot inside of you and begins to torture that button. With your moans getting pounder and louder, she penetrates deep against it, groaning into your neck as she listens to the music of your moans and whimpers.

After a moment of getting lost in the heavenly sounds that were spilling from your mouth, Wanda pulls your leg over to your chest, pumping her fingers in and out at a much faster pace than before. With her digits accelerating in speed, your body jolts and your moans go up an octave as Wanda continued to fuck her fingers into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling her press against that sweet spot inside your pussy over and over again, building up to the climax she had been working diligently to witness. And finally, the band holding you together finally breaks, your body succumbing to one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your life. Wetness pools all over her hand, and your pussy clenches tightly around her fingers. Wanda melts at the sight of your trembling body and shaky legs as your hands grip onto her biceps even harder, trying to hold on as she helped you ride out your climax.

When you calmed down, legs trembling against her, Wanda carefully pulled her fingers out of you with a squelch. She stared down in awe at your wetness, glistening all over her fingers and dripping down her hand. With her lips parted and eyes glued, you could not help but smile as you were catching your breath, still a bit hazy from the orgasm she had just given you. When you felt like the professor was taking a bit longer than expected, you reached down and gently brought her hand close to your face, her eyes following as you did so. And when you opened your mouth, you dragged your tongue slowly over the length of her fingers, and all Wanda had the strength to do was watch.

"Fuck," Wanda breathed out as you licked her hand clean of your essence.

You pulled Wanda in by the neck to kiss her, and she groaned into your mouth when she tasted your juices on your tongue—the taste of how good she made you feel. After pulling away to catch your breath once more, Wanda made her way back down again, leaving kisses along your skin as she traveled to the heavenly space between your gorgeous legs. And with mere inches away, she could smell you, smell the taste of you, and it lingered on her tongue, only making her yearn for more. The scent of you floods her senses, and she leans in with lidded eyes, lost in the thought of having you come right into her mouth. God, she wanted it—she needed it.

She was so close—her mouth was so close. You were right there, all ready in her mind for the grand meal she was about to indulge herself in. And with a soft but firm hand holding her head back by her hair, you stopped her.

"Not yet," you told her, shaking your head slightly as your fingers threaded through her hair.

"What?" Wanda gives you another dazed look, confused and almost frustrated with the fact that you interrupted her on her way to a heavenly meal.

"Not yet," you repeated once again, louder and clearer, with a more demanding tone. "I want you to watch me."

With her eyebrows raising in surprise, Wanda wondered what it was you had in store for her, "Watch you?"

With a teasing smile, you took your hand off of Wanda’s head, slowly dragging your fingers against the inside of your thigh, then in between, the soft pads of your fingers meeting your clit. There was nothing else Wanda could keep her eyes on except the way you pressed softly onto your clit, with another moan slipping out. Your clit was wet and slippery, coated with your juices. You could feel her heavy breath against your pussy, just centimeters away from her face, and all Wanda could do was stare. The sound of your quiet whimpers filled her ears, and it took everything inside Wanda not to dive in, face first, into your heavenly heat.

You must’ve known. You must’ve known what you were doing; keeping her desperate and begging while also checking if she’d be good and obey. And although it was hard to keep away, Wanda followed your orders and watched. With her eyes stuck to that precious button you were torturing all by yourself, she couldn’t help but pant slightly, like an obedient dog waiting for its signal to start eating.

Soon, you were getting close all over again, and Wanda was disappointed that it was not her doing. Although your moans and whimpers were more than enough to fuel her desires, waiting to touch you almost became unbearable, but she remained still, her eyes still glued to your pretty pussy as you touched yourself.

"Let me—Let me touch you," Wanda pleaded, unable to take her eyes off of the way you were rubbing your fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Please, let me help."

"N-Not yet," you said again, your body writhing more and more as each second passed.

With a groan, Wanda dropped her head down against the plush, inside part of your thighs, holding you down as you chased your own high. She kept watching with her mouth open as she resisted each and every urge in her body that told her to ignore your order and just jump right in, but she held herself back. She didn’t even know how, but she knew that once you allowed her, you’d reward her with the best meal and orgasm you could ever give her.

And just as you were about to hit your peak, you let one word slip, "Now."

Wanda finally opened her mouth and let her tongue fall. Her jaw drops as she lets her tongue travel from the bottom to the top, dragging it through your folds and swirling it messily around your clit. The taste of you was as blissful as angels singing in her mouth, as if her tastebuds had been blessed by the gods themselves. Your cries and moans rested well on Wanda’s ears, doing nothing to stop her from eating you out so fervently. A pleasured groan fell from Wanda’s muffled mouth as you tugged harshly at her hair, Her breath was hot, and your pussy had you squirming beneath her. It was heaven for Wanda. God, she’d give everything if it meant being able to live the rest of her days down here, with her head between your legs and your pussy in her mouth. She’d be set for life.

Your poor clit was already so sensitive, and Wanda was lapping at you like a thirsty dog. Your precious brain couldn’t even focus anymore, and all you could think about was Wanda’s tongue. And because of how close you were just before she started, your orgasm started to build higher and higher in a matter of seconds. Her mouth showed no remorse, and the lewd noises only made you flush deeper. With her thighs squeezing her head between your thighs, Wanda devoured you, holding you still with ease despite your constant squirming. Then, she wrapped her mouth around your clit, and sucked, and sucked, and sucked, and sucked, until she had you screaming her name into the air as you came inside of her mouth.

And yet, she doesn’t stop.

"W-Wanda, I—"

"Not yet," she said, voice muffled as she continued to fuck you through your orgasm, her tongue swirling and licking every crevice in and out of your sex.

Your words die in your mouth, and you let out a squeal as she buries her tongue right into your pussy all over again, licking and swirling it inside of you as you whined about how it was too much for you to handle. But, she kept going anyway. And fuck, you felt incredible wrapped around her tongue; it drove Wanda insane. Your body was hot, trembling at the mercy of her touch, screaming out as Wanda continued to overstimulate you. She was now far from being gentle. How could she? When you had been teasing her all through the night with that slit in your dress and those eyes that were begging her to do something? Occasionally, she’d open her eyes to see you arching your back, screaming into the pillow, and it made Wanda moan against your pussy, the vibrations doing more to stimulate you.

With her eyes glued to your body as your legs tensed around her head and your stomach clenched as you moaned, Wanda whined and pushed herself further into you. Her hands were now spreading your folds open as she dragged her tongue up and down your fold before wrapping around your clit once more. Even when you finally gushed inside her mouth, she kept going, even with your entire body enveloped in shivers, as she savored each and every drop of your essence.

"I think–It’s too much—" you tried to say.

But, she just hit you with the same words all over again, "Not yet."

And she’d make you come a third time, then a fourth, then a fifth—until you couldn’t take it anymore. By the end of all of it, Wanda goes back up to your face, her heart racing faster as she sees your tear-stained cheeks and a lazy smile on your face as you try to look at her. She wipes them clean with her thumb and kisses them with her lips, using her other hand to calm your trembling body by running it along your quivering legs.

You reach out for her with a whimper, trying to grab hold of her, begging for her care as she soothes your body. Wanda smiles and re-kisses each bruise she left on you, all the way up until she makes it to your mouth. She kisses you softly and gently, and you can taste yourself right on her tongue. Nuzzling your face into her neck, Wanda pulls your body to lay on top of her, securing a tight and comforting hold on you as you began your drift to sleep.

It’s everything Wanda could have ever wanted—to be with you. It was perfect. You were perfect.

"You did so good, Wanda," you said sleepily into her skin, muffled as you spoke. "So good for me."

"I think I should be the one saying that, (Y/n)," she replied with a proud smile as she ran her hand through your hair. Eventually, her hand rested on your cheek, soothing her thumb over your skin as you began to let your eyes flutter closed at her soothing touch. "You are… so beautiful, darling… So perfect."

You almost fall asleep after a few seconds. Her touches, the feeling of her breathing, and the way her skin felt was everything you ever wanted and more. Wanda laid there with the same thought in her head, her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. As she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, she couldn't imagine a more perfect moment.

“I have something for you,” you say, voice rasp and groggy as you moved reach something from the drawer of your side table. “It’s nothing special… it’s just… you keep losing your card, so..”

You couldn't help but feel a touch of nervousness. You had spent hours searching for the perfect gift, wanting to express you affection for Wanda in a meaningful way. Yet, when you were finally about to give it to her, you couldn't help but feel a bit shy about its simplicity.

But then, Wanda's eyes lit up with curiosity as she accepted the small box and carefully opened it. Inside, she found a cute red lanyard with a playful pattern, and her heart swelled with affection. She held it delicately in her hands, her fingers gently tracing the tiny pattern that adorned the fabric. It was a simple yet thoughtful gift, and she couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for you for choosing it.

Your shyness melted away, replaced by a radiant smile, as you watched Wanda’s joy. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth, knowing that your gift had brought a smile to the professor’s face.

Wanda turned towards you, her eyes soft with emotion and her heart full. She reached out and gently cupped your cheek with her hand, her thumb tenderly brushing against your skin. With a sweet and sincere smile, Wanda leaned in slowly, her lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. Your lips met like two puzzle pieces finally fitting together, and for that moment, the world seemed to fade away.

“It’s perfect,” Wanda says, unable to suppress the way her lips curved upward. “Thank you.”

Then, each day as you arrived for class, your heart couldn't help but skip a beat when you saw Wanda. What caught your attention immediately was the sight of the red lanyard that Wanda wore around her neck. It didn't matter if Wanda's outfit matched the lanyard or not; it was always there, a constant presence, and a sweet reminder of the thoughtful gift you had given her. On some days, it stood out vividly against Wanda's attire, a burst of color that added charm to her ensemble. On others, it contrasted playfully, a delightful pop of red against more subdued colors. But in any case, it was always there.

Over the next few weeks, You and Wanda found yourselves in a whirlwind of newfound affection and stolen moments. In the classroom, your glances became a language of your own. Wanda would catch your eye from across the room, and a playful yet affectionate smile would curve both yours and her lips. It was as if you shared an inside joke, one that no one else in the class could comprehend. As the days went by, their desire for each other grew. They were days off of stolen kisses, lingering glances, and shared smiles that only you could fully understand.

One day, in the middle of a lecture, Wanda couldn't resist the urge any longer. She discreetly slipped out of her seat and gently tugged at your hand, pulling you slightly behind and into a closet at the back of the room, out of sight from her classmates' curious eyes. With a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye, Wanda leaned in and pressed her lips against yours. It was soft and tender, a tantalizing taste of their affection that left both of you breathless. The classroom continued with the lecture, seemingly oblivious to the hidden exchange.

Yet, for Wanda, those stolen kisses were like sweet secrets shared only between the two of you.

— navigation!

#bellaveux writes! #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel #avengers x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader

[gojoux]

『 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 』

· Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader

· Summary: The girl you're supervising for a mission is a spoiled brat princess. Once her eyes met your boyfriend, she becomes obsessed with him. You decided you've had enough once she took the chance.

· CW: 11.6k (sigh) // Fluff. Angst. Annoying behaviour. Act of deception. You and the girl having a beef. Jealousy. Suggestive themes. Implied and mention of sex. Implied past oral sex. Mention of genitals lmao.

Female reader, uses she/her pronouns, called ‘girl’ and ‘miss’.

“Excuse me, but what?” You look at your teacher, Yaga, after he tells you what your next mission is.

“You heard me. Your next mission is to look after one of the higher-ups' grand-daughter. Her parents are going out of town for a five days, and they want you to look after their only daughter.” Yaga explained once more.

“Your job is to keep her safe from cursed spirits. She's not a sorcerer therefore she can't use cursed technique, but she does see them.” He adds.

“But, why me?” You complain but make it sound as polite as you can since he's the teacher. “Shouldn't I be going on a mission to exorcise cursed spirits around the city instead?”

“You're the only one available right now,” Yaga answers straight to the point. “Anything else you want to say?”

‘The only one available, my ass.’ You curse in your mind.

“How about Utahime-san? She doesn't go much on a mission, right?” You try to bargain, hoping he would change your position.

“That's exactly why you're assisted. You're a frontline sorcerer, Iori is not, she's a support. What would happen if a cursed spirit attacked?” He answers sternly, not buying your suggestions.

You huff at the reasonable answer he gave you. “Any more questions?” He looks at you intently. “No.” You shake your head. Yaga nods at your response, “Good. You're dismissed.” 

You turn around to walk out of his office before he speaks again, “Three million yen of reward will wait for you if you complete this mission.” 

You stop your track, turning back to him slowly. “Three million yen?" You repeat as if in disbelief. “For taking care of a rich man's daughter?” You ask again.

Yaga nods at you for confirmation. “Just another piece of information.” He said. “For motivation purposes.” He adds tad a bit quietly.

‘Well, I'll be damned.’

You walk side by side with your boyfriend in the school's hallway, heading out to grab some snacks and drinks before heading out to your respective missions.

“What about your mission?” He asked, looking at you. “Anything special, or just some lower-grade curses?”

You huff in annoyance. “My next mission is actually to look after the grand-daughter of one of the higher-ups because her parents are out of town. You know, keeping an eye on her from cursed spirits.” You shrug. “I hope she's not a brat.”

“Oh? So you’re just a glorified babysitter for now.” He chuckles. “Don’t screw up now, okay?” He said playfully, then looked at you and smiled. “Are you at least getting paid extra?” He then adds in a joking tone.

“Hey!” You nudge his side with your elbow. He chuckles again, smiling brightly before looking at you and stroking your cheek.

“If I had a yen for every time you make that face, I'll be able to buy myself a house.” He said with the most teasing tone. “But seriously, is that all you’re doing? Looking after a girl? It can't be hard, right?”

”Yeah, but she's the only daughter from a rich family, her parents paid a lot for this.” You answer.

”So, they're rich? Do you get to be fed delicious food, perhaps?” He suggest with a sly smile.

“You just earned yourself the easiest mission ever, love,” he then said with a small nod. “Well, that depends on the princess you're going to babysit.” He jokes a bit while still leaning close to you with a smirk.

“I could lend a hand for you if you want?” He jokingly asks you with a wink.

“Please, do. I'll split the mission's reward with you, just a bit, though.” You shake your head at the thought of something that might happen in this mere mission or is it just you overthinking. 

“I have a feeling I'm the one who's going to have a hard time.” You let out a harsh sigh before shaking the negative thoughts off your head. “After that, we can get some good food.” 

“I'm just messing around. I'm not taking your reward, love." He chuckled a bit, patting your head. “So long as I’m with you, it’s already a reward.” 

Then, he thought for a moment before nodding. “Hey, maybe we can also cook some good food ourselves.” 

“What do you say?” He asked. “I can show you how to cook some dishes that my mom taught me.” He smiles sweetly at you.

“Really? That sounds wonderful. We can do that, too.” You nod at his suggestion. He pats your head again in response.

“So, are you excited to have a new job as a babysitter?” He asked you while walking, a little smug smile appeared on his face again. “I'm sure you can manage.” He added.

“Or... Do you want me to try babysitting you first to see what it's like taking care of a child?” He asked you jokingly, looking at you.

“I'm not a child.” You pout at him as you both walk closer to the vending machine.

“Hmm? You're not?” He asked with a teasing smile, knowing that you were being affected by his comment. “Are you sure? I'm seeing a certain toddler in front of me right now.” You huff at his words.

He reaches into his pocket and takes out a few coins. “Say, do you want anything, love?” He asked you, then looked at the vending machine in front of you and the snack options.

“Cola, please.” You step closer, standing next to him. “Such a spoiled little girl.” He said jokingly before chuckling. He inserts the necessary amount of coins and waits for the cola to drop down.

“And snacks.” He took out some more coins and put them inside of the machine before getting out some chips for the two of you.

“Here you go, my child.” He said jokingly before handing you a can of cola and some chips. “Don't eat too much.” He ruffles your hair gently.

“Yes, Father. Thank you for the treats.” You play along with the game and kiss him on the cheek as gratitude. 

He takes out his food, looking at you while he talks to you. “So, I guess we both have our own missions now. Who do you think will have it easier first, me or you?” He asked you, trying to initiate a little conversation.

“You.” You roll your eyes in annoyance. “I'll be stuck with a brat here instead. The only child of a rich family is not far from being spoiled after all.” You complain once again.

“You never know.” He said while eating his snack. “This person could be the sweetest thing on the face of the earth, but with the way you're talking, she probably senses your dislike for her, which will make her act out in return.” He said, still joking around with you to ease your mood about the mission.

“Please, don't jinx it.” You groan at the thought. Geto chuckles at your reaction. “Maybe this brat of a princess can be your bestie, you'll never know.” He said playfully.

“And if the brat ends up acting up like you're expecting them to, you can always ask Daddy for help.” He teases you more. “I think I will.” You roll your eyes.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, you take it out with your free hand to see that you got a text from Yaga, saying that the rich man's daughter you're assigned to has arrived at school, which means your mission starts now. 

“The brat is here. I'll see you later, okay? Be safe on your mission!” You give him a short kiss on the lips. You gathered the snacks on your one arm and hold the cola on your other.

“I'll see you later, love.” He replied with his soft smile, waving goodbye to you. “Don't worry about me, I'll be back before you know it.” He added.

“Just be a good babysitter, okay?” He then smirked playfully, still waving goodbye to you. You wave back as you walk towards Yaga's office again to begin your task.

Once you reached the office, there's Yaga standing with a girl beside him outside of the office's door. They turn to you at the same time, expecting your arrival.

Did Geto really jinx it or did your instinct come true, you don't know, but you're cursing fate and whoever has sent this evil spirit to your presence. 

“Oh, how kind of you.” She grabs your chips and cola from your hands. The one that your boyfriend bought for you, and this brat thought you bought this for her.

‘It's the first day, come on. You can do this.’ You mentally cheer yourself. Pessimistically.

“This is Hanada Yui, the girl you'll be looking after.” Yaga introduced you to the girl as she held the chip close to her chest. “And this is (L/N) (Y/N), the one who is going to look after you for the next five days from now.” He adds, introducing you to her.

She looks young, but not far younger than you. She dresses well with expensive brand clothing, as expected from a child coming from a rich family.

“Nice to meet you, Hanada-chan.” You forced a smile, trying to be friendly with her, grimacing at the word ‘nice’ since you know it's not true at all.

“You, too.” She answers casually, a small smile gracing her face, you're not sure if it's genuine or not, but you brush it off, trying not to care so much.

“Alright. She's yours now.” He said to you before pointing toward the girl. Yaga walks closer to you before leaning a bit closer, “Be nice to the girl, okay?” He then said to you before looking at the girl. “Try to have a conversation with her, too.”

Yaga knows that you're not exactly the friendliest around new people, let alone the ones that don't strike well with you.

“Yes, got it.” You nod at him, assuring him and yourself. “Good, good.” Yaga gives you a small approving smile before excusing himself, letting you both talk with each other.

Yui, on the other hand, looks up at you with a slight pout. “So, you're my babysitter?” She asked you, her arms crossed in front of her and still holding onto the chips and cola. 

“I thought so.” She said, sounding disappointed. “I was hoping for a hot guy who's going to look after me.” She shrugs, her decorated pigtails moving as she tilts her head to the side. 

“How long am I stuck with you, by the way?” She asks. “Five days.” You answer shortly, trying to not let any annoyance come out of your tone.

“Ohh, that's long.” She groans as she eats the chip. After a while of her eating her chip in silence, she suddenly asked you a question. “Why are you even a babysitter in the first place? Shouldn't you have a real job?” She asked you, curious at your response.

‘Because I'm not.’ You grumble to yourself in your mind.

“You can see curses but you can't use a cursed technique, that's why your parents sent you here and assigned me, a Jujutsu sorcerer, to look after your safety. It's my mission.” You explain to her.

“Well, that's boring.” She looks at you in disapproval. 

“Why can't you at least play games with me?” She said to you while continuing to eat her snack. “I'm sure they pay you to let me have fun, I don't see the reason why you want me to just sit here all day. Do you plan on watching me until I sleep?” She asks you while sounding slightly annoyed.

“I'll do whatever you want.” You answer her, keeping your cool together. You just know that this brat is going to be a pain in the ass.

“You'll do whatever I want? No way. You're probably just trying to mess with me. I mean, you already seem like a boring babysitter to me.” She said while giving you the most unimpressed look ever. 

“Hmm...” She looks at you curiously, tilting her head while looking at you with her arms crossed. She then grins at you when she sees that you're actually taking her words seriously. 

“You'll do whatever I tell you to do, right? You're going to be my slave the entire time.” She then says with a smirk, and by the way you two are interacting, it seems like this is what she wanted.

‘Babysitter to slave? What a downgrade.’ You roll your eyes.

“Whatever you said, princess.” You answer with a hint of mocking. It's official, you got beef with this brat.

“Oh... Did I strike a nerve there?” She asked you with a smirk, clearly enjoying this. “I like you.” With her still smirking at you, she finally finishes her snack and hands you the empty packet of chips, looking at you while waiting for your response.

You grab the trash from her, “You're welcome.” You smile sarcastically at her as walks past you. You roll your eyes once more behind her back before following her.

“Hhmm... Alright, what should we do next?” She asked you, clearly looking for some fun. “Oh, how about a shopping spree?” She suggested.

“I think my wardrobe needs a bit of improvement. Don't you think so?” She said, expecting you to obey her orders.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You answer her, clearly not enjoying it. From now, you just have to answer her straight on, not entertain her ego even more even though Yaga just told you to be nice and talk with her.

“Ohhhh, you're actually going along with my idea, huh? I thought you'd be more resistant. Well, this is going to be fun!” She said with a slight snicker.

“Hurry up! We don't have all day!” She yelled at you as she walked ahead. It seems like she's the one in control of the situation right now, which might become a big problem if she keeps on treating you like that.

Yui wanted to go to the mall for shopping, and who are you to deny that? Your job is to look after her anyway, which means you'll be stuck around her to your own dismay. Good thing you're going to get paid well with this mission.

After the assistant manager drives to the mall and drops you both off, she excitedly enters the mall with you following close behind her.

It seems like Yui has a specific place in mind where she wants to go. She quickly makes a beeline towards a boutique store, pulling you along by the sleeves of your uniform.

“Come on, hurry!” She said as she opened the store door for you. “You better get me everything I want, okay? It's your job after all!” She said, looking at you with a smug smile before stepping inside the store.

“I thought the little princess was rich? Did Daddy not give you enough pocket money, sweetheart?” You answer mockingly with an equally smug smile. You're not going to let this brat have whatever she wants.

“Hmph.” She grunted once she heard your comment. Your words got to the little princess. She made a pout on her face, crossing her arms in front of her while letting out an angry groan.

“Of course, he gave me money! I just don't want to use it.” She said, trying to act tough. “Why should I use the allowance my daddy gave me when I could use your money instead?” She said, sounding bratty now.

“Oops, sorry, didn't bring any.” You pull the inside of your pockets out from your uniform, showing nothing with a feign apologetic tone.

It seems like that's not the right answer to say at the moment as Yui's expression immediately changes, her eyes widening as she lets out another groan of annoyance. She was pretty obviously expecting you to be her piggy bank, but that was quickly put to a stop.

She then tugs on the cuffs of your uniform sleeve aggressively, almost pulling your arm, before speaking to you in an angry voice.

“What?! So, you're saying that you're my babysitter but you didn't bring any money?” She asked you, sounding outraged by your reply. “How are you going to buy things for me then?” She then said, sounding demanding. “You better fix your mistake!”

“The garbage outside is free. I could get you that.” You shrug, looking around the boutique, not giving in to her bratty needs.

The comment you made clearly stung her heart, causing her to ball up her fists with anger.

“How dare you suggest to get me garbage, are you mocking me?” She said, her tone becoming a little more aggressive than before. “I'm not some poor kid that you could trick into thinking that getting garbage is even a good idea.” She then said, her voice getting raised a little.

“Now, let's find something to spend your money on.” She then added, pointing at you to get moving.

“Alright, alright.” You lift your hands in defense, letting her pull your uniform sleeve by force once more. “Good, you're understanding.” Then she just walks forward, expecting you to follow her.

She starts looking for something that she'll like while you're left to look after her and make sure she doesn't get into trouble.

She quickly walked over to a dress rack, and without even looking at you, she started to pull out some dresses that she wants to try

“Hm... I think I'll get this red dress.” She said to you, pointing at the red dress on the mannequin. “What do you think?” She then asked you, seemingly wanting to hear a response from you. 

“That's pretty.” You look at the dress she's pointing at. What an expensive-looking dress with an equally expensive price.

This got her smiling a little bit. “You really do think it's pretty?” She asks you while still looking at the dress that she's currently pointing at. “Do you want to go ahead and pay for me?” She adds with a proud smile.

“Oh, what's the limit again? Can I get more than one dress? Hmm... I'm sure you have enough to pay.” She said before looking at you with a cheeky grin.

Oh, how you want to wipe that off her face.

“Yeah, I'm filthy rich after all.“ You cross your arms smugly. “Pick any clothes you want, princess.” You play along with her game.

She seems happy to hear that. “Great! Then, I want this green dress as well.” She said while pointing at the green dress near the red dress. “And also those shoes, they'll go great with my dresses.” She added, pointing at a pair of white shoes.

“We might as well get some accessories too. Let's see...” She strokes her chin, looking at the accessories. “I'll get this headband and... How about... This one, this one, and... This one?” She picked more dresses out of the rack. “Is that a yes on my request, Miss Babysitter?” She then asked you still with a smug smile on her face.

“Yes, princess.” You roll your eyes. She keeps going here and there. You followed her with boredom, choosing to stay on your phone. After she was done, we went to the counter to pay. 

“How about you wait outside while I pay for this?” You offered. She tilts her head in confusion but does exactly what you ask her to do.

You wait at the counter, holding the things that she's chosen to buy while the saleslady is scanning the barcodes to price them individually.

“What a funny girl.” You shake your head, eyeing her from inside the boutique to make sure she doesn't go anywhere, and there are no cursed spirits around her. 

“The total would be three hundred forty-six thousand yen.” The saleslady put the clothes and accessories in the bag. You give her the credit card, watching her intently.

“With the name Hanada Yui?” She asks to make sure. “That's right.” You nod, trying to hide your sly smile. “Just type in the code here.” She turns around the card swipe machine for you to enter the pin.

The thing about being a sorcerer, you got to learn how to be sneaky and smart, never let them know what your next move is. That is exactly what you did.

While Yui was busy, you sneak inside her purse, grabbing the card from one of the pockets. You're kind of surprised she doesn't notice, well, that's what people do when they're too focused on one thing. You spend your time on your phone to search for the numbers of her credit card and get the code.

‘Filty rich, I wished.’ You chuckle at your words earlier.

Poor girl really thinks you're buying all her stuff, which she chooses many on purpose, even though you feel bad for deceiving her.

“Thank you for shopping.” The saleslady gives you back the card along with the bags with a respectful bow which you return.

She waited outside while you paid for all of the dresses that she picked out. When you got out of the store, she looked at you, expecting you to hand the dresses to her.

“It took you forever.” She said, not seeming too pleased by your actions. “Are you trying to make me unhappy? Because it's working.” She added, still not getting the dresses you bought for her as she looked at you with an annoyed expression.

“Here you go, princess.” You hand her the bags full of clothes and accessories she bought. “Wanna go back now?” 

She took the bags you gave to her while looking at you with a surprised smile. “Thank you, Miss Babysitter.” She said, sounding much more pleasant and bratty in a way.

“Of course, I want to go back. What? Do you think I'll willingly spend the entire day out here?” She sound annoyed by your question.

“Oh, right, I don't have to worry about that.” She then said, smirking once more. “Since you're my babysitter, you'll be with me for the entire day, whether you like it or not.”

You let out an annoyed sigh, dialing the same assistant manager to pick you up from the mall. As you wait, you got a few text from Geto.

I just finished the mission in Yokohama. Heading to Hachioji right now.

How was the babysitting duty, love?

You smile at his texts before typing,

Okay, stay safe ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎♥

It's horrid.

After a while, he read the your response and replied back,

I'll be back after a day. Be a good girl, okay? ♥

Tell me about it.

Yui seems to be curious on why you're smiling while on your phone, “Who are you texting?” You look up from your phone with a shrug, “No one.”

I'm always a good girl!!!ヽ(`д´；)/

I will later.

You put your phone back into your pocket as the car arrived. You wonder what tomorrow would be like with this brat around.

The second day doesn't get any better. This spoiled brat Yui keeps demanding things, and the more she does it, the more irritated you become.

“Can I have that?”

“Can we go here?”

“Can you buy me this?”

She keeps on asking you in a pushy tone, but you can't refuse her demands if you want to accomplish your mission. 

She still doesn't show any signs of calming down as she keeps on giving you multiple different requests for you to do. She seems to be trying hard to make your mission harder than it actually is.

She's not just asking for normal stuff either, like eating snacks or drinking cold drinks in the afternoon. No, she asks for the latest fashion accessories, the newest phone model, or the trendiest hairstyle.

In other words, she's the most bratty princess you probably have seen, which makes your mission harder than you'd think.

“I thought I'm your babysitter? Not your sugar mommy?” You look at her ridiculously, refusing the things she wants. Expensive stuff? Hell, no.

“Awww, Miss Babysitter doesn't wanna be my sugar mommy?” She asks you, putting on an exaggerated fake-cute voice. “Are you too poor to buy these things for me?” She asks you mockingly.

“Oh, I suppose I am, that's not good.” You feign the act of being sad, putting a hand to your forehead for the dramatic act, before relaxing back against the couch, crossing your legs.

“I'm starting to doubt you're actually rich when you keep refusing to use your own money.” You say, trying to get a rise out of this brat. “Is your credit card actually zero?” You feign surprise.

She tilted her head in confusion for a few seconds before her face suddenly grew tense with anger. “You dare say that I'm lying about being rich, huh?” She asks accusingly.

“I'll show you, Miss Babysitter.” She reached for her handbag before taking out a big bundle of money. “Look.” She shows you the money. “Is this zero to you?” She asked with a smirk on her face, wanting to hear your answer.

“Oho...” You chuckle at the sight, amused by her reaction. “I've seen more.” You say nonchalantly as if you're not impressed.

‘Yeah, Gojo's money when he lost a bet.’ You snicker to yourself.

“More? Who do you think you are?” She asked, offended by your remark. “Are you trying to say that you're richer than me?” She said like a spoiled princess. “You want to play the ‘I'm superior to you’ game now, huh?”

You let out a yawn, choosing to play on your phone instead as you relax on the couch, letting her talk whatever she wants. She doesn't seem to like your behavior right now, especially since she's trying her best to make you entertain her.

“Hey! Aren't you supposed to be looking after me?” She snapped at you, wanting your attention. “It's your job, isn't it? I thought you'd been hired to look after my safety, not to sit on the couch and be lazy!” She added with a scolding tone.

“Do you want to get fired? You won't get paid if you don't look after me.” She said, trying to intimidate you.

“Jujutsu sorcerers don't get fired, smartass.” You answer nonchalantly as you keep playing with your phone. “What do you want me to do anyway?”

This seems to make her even more angry again. “Is that how you react when someone hires you? By ignoring their orders?” She asked you, sounding annoyed.

“As I said before, you were hired to look after my safety. Now, do your job, or I'll complain to the teacher!” She then said, sounding a little bit more stern with her words as she looked at you, waiting for your response. “Do I really need to give you instructions, Miss Babysitter?”

The princess is angry again. Text you later (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

He replied soon after you sent him the text,

wwwwwww alright. Later, love ♥

“Okay, then, princess. What would you like to do?” You put your phone down, leaning against the couch with your attention on her.

Her frown is replaced by a smug smile when you finally give in. “Can't you be imaginative by yourself? Do you need me to tell you what to do?” She asks you sarcastically while crossing her arms in front of her with a smug smile.

“But, I could give you some ideas on what to do.” She added before uncrossing her arms. “There's a cute cafe nearby. We could go there and have a chat. What do you say?” She sounds somewhat sweet as she says this.

“Alright, we can go there.” You get up from the couch. She seems delighted to hear your approval. “That's the spirit. Let's go there now.” She said excitedly, and with that, you both walked out of the dorm to get a ride from another available assistant manager and go to the said cafe that she mentioned earlier.

Once you manage to reach the cafe, she takes a seat and beckons you to sit down with her. “Come, sit down with me. I want to get to know you better.” She says to you, sounding pleasant. You sit in front of her right across the table.

“Now, let's begin by getting to know you first, Miss Babysitter.” She leaning towards you a little bit. “What do you like to do in your spare time? And are you in a relationship currently?” She asks you while looking at you with a small smile.

“Well, I like watching movies in my spare time. Maybe rest when I have no missions or school work.” You shrug.

When you didn't answer her last question, Yui made a curious sound. “Oh, then you're single?” She asked with a smirk on her face.

“You want to know?” You ask back teasingly. “You still didn't answer the last question, aren't you in a relationship? Don't be scared.” She sounds a little bit frustrated.

‘Damn, she's pushy as always.’

“I am.” You smile smugly. “He's a Special Grade sorcerer, he's on a mission right now.” You answer with a sense of pride.

“I see.” She leans back into her chair and crosses her arms. “So... You're saying that you're in a romantic relationship with some Special Grade sorcerer right now, huh?” She asked you, trying to make you tell her about the sorcerer she's talking about.

“How about you? Do you have any hobbies?” You avoid the topic. She seemed to be in a bit of a mood after hearing your reply, trying to change the subject.

“I asked you a question, I want you to answer that first. Tell me about this Special Grade sorcerer.” She asked you. “And no, I don't answer your questions while you're not answering mine.” She added, sounding a little bit more annoyed than before.

“Why would you want to know your babysitter's love life, hm? You wanna know if he's a hot shot or something?” You answer teasingly. Yui let out a groan while rolling her eyes.

“I should've known you won't give me a straightforward answer.” She said, annoyed. Her frown slowly changed into another smirk after you answered her question like that.

“Actually, I'm curious to know what kind of man your boyfriend is. Is he cute? Is he handsome? Does he have a great personality?” She asked you, sounding a little bit sarcastic while holding back her giggles.

“He's all of that.” You lean back on your seat, crossing your arms as well. Rubbing to her face about your boyfriend.

She raises both of her eyebrows in surprise, seeming to be a little bit frustrated now after hearing your answer.

“Wait... You serious? You actually have a hot boyfriend? He's both cute, handsome, and has a great personality?” She looks like she couldn't believe what you just told her. “No wonder you won't tell me about him.” She said with a pout on her face, crossing her arms and looking at the table.

“What? You jealous?” You snicker at her reaction, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Jealous? Me? Jealous over your boyfriend? Ha!” She answers sarcastically, shaking her head while looking at you. “I'll have you know that I can steal your boyfriend when I want to.” She added arrogantly while looking at you with a smug smile.

“So, you might want to watch what you're saying, otherwise, you might find yourself without a boyfriend by the end of the day.” She said sarcastically but a little bit intimidating at the same time.

“My boyfriend doesn't like bratty girls. Sorry, you don't have a chance.” You answer back with a feigned sympathy tone.

Her face turned into a displeased one upon hearing what you said. “What did you just call me?” She asked you, her voice sounded a little bit shaky as she gripped the arms of her chair very tightly.

“I'll have you know that I'm not a bratty girl at all.” She's defensive and a little bit prideful while giving you a cold stare. “You shouldn't assume that your boyfriend doesn't like bratty girls just because you don't like them.” 

You shake your head in amusement. “Whatever you said, princess.”

We spend more or less two hours at the cafe. Yui also leads you towards the arcade since she wants to play there, this time, you really paid for it.

You can't lie, you did enjoy playing the arcade with her despite her attitude problems. After it gets darker, she requested another meal at a restaurant before heading back to the school dorm.

It's 10:34 PM once you head back to your room after assisting Yui to her room. You plop down on the bed, drained after the day. 

Not long after, you heard knocking on your door. You get up with a groan, walking towards the door, ready to be greeted with the sight of Yui with her night cravings.

But to your surprise, you see your boyfriend, already home from his mission. “I'm back.” He opens his arms wide with a smile on his face. “Suguru!” You quickly jump into his embrace.

“Aww, you missed me, too, love?” He asked, holding you close into his warm body. He gives you a long kiss on your forehead before leading you back inside your bedroom before closing the door.

“I've missed you so much.” He rubs your cheek slowly while he stares at you lovingly with his soft eyes.

He chuckled slightly as you jumped into his arms, wrapping his arms around your body to hold you.

He laid you down on the bed as he lay beside you. “How was your day?” He asked you sweetly, caressing your hair.

“Tiring.” You groan, remember how you're babysitting a bratty girl who's almost the same age as yours. “The brat did give me a hard time, but she was okay today.” You've been talking about this through text, and he wants to hear it directly from you.

He chuckles lightly at your reply. “Oh, that girl again?” He asks you in a playful tone. “I see she got you all worked up, huh?” He looks at you amused.

“So, what did she do this time? Or should I say, what didn't she do this time?” He asked, curious and teasing at the same time.

“She asked if I have a boyfriend or something. She doesn't seem pleased when I answer her.” You shake your head with a dry chuckle. “Are you interested in bratty girls?” You caress his cheek with your thumb, remembering Yui's words from earlier.

He raised an eyebrow in surprise upon hearing your story, “What did she say when she found out that you're in a relationship?” He asked you while stroking your hair lovingly.

“And no, I'm not interested in bratty girls. Well, when you are being bratty, then yes. You're the only one for me.” He added in a flirty tone before leaning in to kiss your lips. “Good.” You said after returning the kiss. “Because she said she can steal you from me.” You huff.

“Steal me from you? She said that, huh?” He asked you with a chuckle, still stroking your hair. “She really thinks that she has a chance to be with me?” He asked you in a bewildered voice.

“Right? Glad you think so, too.” This time you lean to kiss him first. “Don't worry, my love. I'll always be by your side, only you.” He said assuringly. 

“She can keep trying but she won't succeed.” He gave you a kiss on the forehead before adding, “She probably just said that just because she wants to make you jealous, darling.”

“Yeah, I know that.” You frown, your hand slowly sneaking under his t-shirt for comfort, feeling his toned abs and cold skin. Seems like he just took a shower before coming here.

He lets out a hum as he feels your hand touching him underneath. “Ah, you're a one handsy girl. What's getting you in the mood, darling?” He seems to be enjoying the moment as he leans closer before kissing you.

He takes off his t-shirt and tosses it to the side, holding your hands onto his chest to feel his body more. “Mmm... Forget about the bratty girl. Let's enjoy each other.” He whispers to you, the mood starting to get intimate. “Let's focus on us.”

He lets out a small groan of pleasure as you pull him into an even deeper and more passionate kiss, one that could lead to something more. He closes his eyes in bliss as he deepens the kiss, his hands gently caressing your waist.

He makes no attempt to stop you, allowing the kiss to go on for as long as you want it to. He immediately holds your body in place, wanting you to be on top of him instead.

He looks at you as he continues to kiss you, his hands traveling down your back before he holds both of your hips. He starts to unbutton your sleeping shirt, his eyes still looking at you.

“Let me give you a good time, darling.” He says in a seductive voice. His eyes traveled slowly from your shoulders to your hips, his tongue teasingly sticking out for a moment before he finally took off your shirt and threw it beside him.

“My princess deserves to be treated like a queen tonight.”

In the morning, you wake up at the continuous knocking on the door. You snuggle onto Geto's bare chest, ignoring the sound.

You're still tired after last night, and you can't even think straight right now. But the knocking is getting louder and it's starting to annoy you.

Geto wakes up as well after hearing the knocking sound. He looks at you while lying down on the bed, annoyed.

He groans, bothered by the knocking sound, so eventually, he gets up from the bed and puts his pants on. “Hmm... Who's knocking so loudly like this...” He adds, still sleepy.

He heads to the door and opens it slightly, only to see Yui, standing outside. She seems surprised to see a man, a very handsome man opening the door of your room, shirtless even.

Geto is only wearing his pants, showing off his gloriously upper body from his v-line, abs, and chest. Not to mention there's a bulge from his pants since he doesn't wear anything underneath. His long hair is disheveled across his shoulder.

She just stares at Geto silently for a moment, then starts to blush as she turns her gaze away from him, feeling a little bit embarrassed at her actions. After a moment, she speaks up.

“W-what are you doing at (Y/N)-chan's room?” She asked, still looking away as her face looks a little bit red now.

“What are you doing? Knocking on someone's door this early.” Geto answered back, leaning against the wall. His face is not pleased after being disturbed in his sleep, especially after the mission and intimate moment with his girlfriend last night.

She looks up at Geto now, her body in a more confident position. She raises an eyebrow at his reply. “Why? I'm checking in on my babysitting assignment, she's supposed to take care of me by now. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?” She replies angrily.

“Plus, I've been hearing some noise coming from this room. Is it normal for you to let your assignment make all the noise at such an hour?” She adds with more annoyance in her voice. “I could've been sleeping instead of hearing all that noise.” A scowl appears on her face.

“Ah, right, sorry for that. We were busy last night.” He gives her a small apologetic smile, even still in his half-sleep state. She seems to be flustered upon seeing Geto's smile.

"A... ah... I see. You were busy last night doing... things." She looks away once again as she blushes slightly. “Well, at least, you're sorry. As for the noise, make sure it won't happen again.” She says while looking back at him.

“I expect you to be a proper babysitter. That means, no noise past your bedtime. Is that clear?” She asked while sounding a little bit like an annoyed teacher.

Geto shakes his head with a chuckle, starting to know why you're always rambling about this girl over the text. She has quite an attitude, and he knows you don't like being on the receiving end.

“Got it, princess~” He replied with the same tone you used on the nickname. Yui can't help but feel even more flustered at the nickname this handsome man just called her.

“What were you two doing last night? What do you mean ‘busy’?” She crossed her arms, always wanting to know everyone's business.

“Having sex?” Geto answered casually, saying the most obvious thing. “Why?” 

“What?!” She exclaimed as she looked at him in shock, her eyes widened at his sudden answer. 

“That's... A bit inappropriate for you to say in front of someone.” She then said, sounding a little bit embarrassed for him. “I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't like it either.” She added.

“I know my girlfriend, she doesn't mind.” He chuckles at Yui's reaction. “By the way, what do you need this early?” He asked, back to the topic. 

The answer seems to fly out of her mind once she sees Geto like she's charmed so badly that she got a few seconds of amnesia.

“N-nothing... Just tell (Y/N)-chan that she's late for babysitting. She need to accompany me, right now.” She crossed her arms in annoyance, yet her eyes are somewhere else, trailing over Geto's body, and he doesn't seem to be bothered even though he noticed.

“She's still sleeping. Do you mind a bit later?” He offered. “Are you still busy?” She raised a brow before mumbling under her breath, “Fine, then.” She said before walking away.

He could only raise a brow for what just happened before letting out a sigh and closing the door. He takes off his pants before climbing up the bed with you, cradling your body against his.

“What does the brat want?” You ask him sleepily. “She wants you to accompany her.” He answered you, still sleepy as well.

"I told her that you're still asleep, but she doesn't seem to believe me. She probably thinks that you're busy with...” He then said as he pointed at himself, wanting to imply that you're busy doing intimate things with him.

“But I told her that I'll convince you to accompany her, so please wake up.” He said to you in a stern voice, but he's definitely smiling.

“Ah, yes, my babysitting duties to take care of the brat.” You groan before slowly waking up. He smiles at you, laying his head on the pillow, “Yeah, she's really persistent in having you accompany her.” He said while rolling his eyes playfully.

“Yeah. Two more days and I'll be free from this miserable duty.”

You noticed how you feel less annoyed with Yui around. She doesn't seem to need your company like she always whined about. And you suddenly come to the realization that this brat is paying attention less to you, and is locked onto her new target.

Your boyfriend.

You frown as you sit on the dorm's living room couch, crossing your arms and looking at their interaction as you slump against the couch.

‘This little brat...’ 

Geto seems to be aware of Yui's presence as he looks at her while she's clinging to him, and the way she occasionally leans towards him is making him uncomfortable. “Why are you clinging to me like that?” He asked Yui with a curious look on his face.

He doesn't want to say anything mean to Yui, but he also doesn't like the way she's clinging to him. 

“Do you want me to buy you something?” He added, confused but a little bit annoyed at the same time. “You shouldn't be so clingy with strangers, you know?”

“Let's get to know each other more, then!” Yui exclaimed happily, her personality changed when she was with him compared to when she was with you. 

Geto seems quite troubled by this suggestion. “Why should we get to know each other more? I mean... you're already being clingy with me right now and I barely even know your last name.”

"You should be thankful I'm even tolerating you right now." He said in a stern tone. Not even a few seconds after, he sighs for a moment before deciding to give in to her demands.

“Alright, let's get to know each other more.” He said in a soft tone, sounding somewhat reluctant, but he didn't want to come off as rude.

You could see him roll his eyes while talking to Yui. “What do you want to know about me? I'll answer your questions sincerely. As long as it's not too personal.”

Yui seems to still be thinking about what to ask, but she eventually comes up with a question to ask. “Okay... Um... What's your type? Oh, and don't be embarrassed about your answer.” She asks him in a soft tone, a tone she never uses with you.

Geto raised his eyebrows in surprise upon hearing her question. You roll your eyes in annoyance at the sight. What kind of shameless ass would ask a man his type when his girlfriend is right here? The brat.

He thinks about his answer for a moment. “Well, I think I have a thing for nice and beautiful girls.” He said, looking at you when he said the word ‘beautiful’. “Which means, my girl right here is my type.” He added with a loving smile as he looked at you.

He noticed your annoyed expression, turning to Yui again. “Why did you ask me about my taste in women? Do you want to know if you're my type or not?” 

“Yeah!” Yui answer. “Do you think I could be your type?” She asks in a flirty tone. You roll your eyes in annoyance once more at the sight.

Geto looked at Yui and you while rubbing his chin, trying to come up with the right answer. Instead, he gets an idea. He just wants to mess around with you, wondering how you'd react if he responded to Yui's flirting.

“Hmm... I'd say, yes, you're definitely my type.” He said with a flirtatious tone while looking at Yui, clearly trying to get you jealous.

“Who wouldn't love a cute girl like you, right?” He then said while stroking Yui's hair, looking at you while doing it. He wanted to see your reaction to their small flirting.

He kept entertaining her for a while, right in front of you. Responding Yui's flirt with his own with the gesture he only uses with you.

‘What the actual fuck?’ You scoff in disbelief. The audacity of him to mess around like that.

You're already been annoyed for the past two days stuck with this brat, and another annoyance just added to the list of your headaches.

Can't stand the sight any longer, you get up in a harsh manner before walking away, every step of your feet is hard against the wooden floor with how irritated you are.

He smiles a little bit while looking at you, noticing that you walked away after feeling annoyed.

“I see that my darling is jealous.” He said with a smile on his face before looking back at Yui. “I guess I'm going to spend the entire day with Yui, then.” He said in a playful tone while looking at her, wanting you to get even more jealous.

You frown at his words, clearly not entertained as you keep walking, not minding his comments.

He seemed to notice that you were hurt by his words as his smile turned into a soft one and got off the couch to catch up to you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Don't feel sad.” He said while reaching out to you, pulling you into a gentle hug from the back.

“You know how serious I am when it comes to our relationship, right? And I'm just joking when I was talking to Yui, you should know that by now.” He said, sounding a little bit defensive. “I was just trying to make you jealous.” He then added while caressing your hair gently.

“Yeah, I know. Why shouldn't I?” You pull yourself away from his grasp, starting to get mad at him. “Darling...” He called out to you, sounding a little bit disappointed when you pulled yourself away.

“If you know I was just trying to tease you a little bit, then why did you get mad, huh?” He asked you while caressing your arms. “I'm just trying to have some fun with you, my sweetheart.”

“I'm not in the mood, Suguru. Thank you for that.” You glare at him before walking away.

He widened his eyes in surprise when you called him by his name instead of his usual nickname, knowing that you're seriously mad right now.

“Love... Can't we just talk things out?” You can feel him following you while trying to talk to you, he still calls you by your nickname even though you called him by his name earlier.

Before he could catch up to you, Yui grabs his arms. “Just leave her, okay? You still have me.”

He looked annoyed as Yui grabbed his arm, causing him to stop in his tracks for a moment, giving her a stern look on his face.

“Stop trying to get me away from my beloved, Yui.” He looks at her, pulling his arm out of her grasp.

“Hey, hey!” Yui holds his arm yet again to hold him back from going after you, this time with more force, like how she did with you on the first day at the boutique. “We were talking before, right? Shouldn't we continue?” She smiled at him cheekily.

He lets out an irritated groan. “You really have a lot of boldness for a brat, you know that?” Yet she doesn't seem amused by his words.

He wants to talk to you and resolve this problem between you two, but it seems the brat is not letting him go that easily. He decided to give you space for a while.

“Fine, okay. We will continue, but after that, I'm going to try to talk to my girlfriend again, alright?” He said to Yui with a serious look on his face. “Yeay!” She gladly pulls him back to talk his ears off.

A few hours have passed and they're still at it. That brat keeps clinging to him wherever goes, like a parasite. You watched from afar this time, the girl has someone who's looking after her right now, why bother staying close to that nuisance?

The longer you watch her and Geto together, the more you feel frustrated and annoyed.

Geto was smiling, and Yui, at some point, laid her head against his shoulder while giggling at something he said.

“What a joke.” You mumble under your breath, feeling irritated. It almost felt like they don't even have a care in the world like they're not even thinking about being in a relationship with you or that you're right here.

Once the day comes to an end, you enter your room with a frown on your face, not planning to talk with Geto since you're still pissed at him for what he did earlier. You lay on the bed and tried to calm down, wanting to cool off a little bit in the room first.

After he escorts Yui back to her room, he lets out a sigh, “No wonder she's in a bad mood.” He shakes his head, understanding your behavior, because, damn, being close to that girl really drains your energy. Maybe she does have a cursed technique after all.

He walks towards your room, hoping to finally talk to you after making you wait for so long. He decided to not go in immediately but instead wanted to wait for a few minutes in case you're not ready to talk yet.

“Love...” He says to you from the door, not even going in yet. “Are you ready to talk?” He asked softly, guilty and worried about what he did earlier.

“Go away! Go with that brat you're having fun with earlier!” You yelled from your room, not even moving an inch from your bed.

He flinches a little from your sudden yell, slightly surprised by your tone as he tries to speak up once more. “But, love, you know I was just joking around, right? I just want to mess around with you.” He said in a soft tone while scratching his head.

“Is it really that bad?” He asked you, sad from your reply. “Please talk to me, love.” He added softly.

You keep on quiet, too tired to deal with this, but he's persistent. “Darling?” He calls out to you again, still standing right outside the door of your room.

“Please, could you just listen to what I want to say? At least give me a chance to explain.” He sounded desperate, wanting to fix whatever problem you two were having right now. “I just want to talk and spend quality time with you, is that too much to ask?”

His face filled with disappointment as he hears your silence outside the door, unsure if he should just enter and try to talk with you or not.

He sighs, trying to figure out what to do before he decides to try and enter your room in a moment. He hesitates and then, he finally does it. He slowly opened the door and entered the room without saying anything.

“What do you want?” You heard the door open and close. “I want to talk to you.” He said, somewhat defensive from your tone toward him.

He looks at you for a moment before sitting near your bed, deciding to stay in your room for the moment to talk things out. “Darling, you need to understand that I'm just trying to have fun with you. I wasn't being serious when I was flirting with Yui earlier.” He said, sincerely.

“I know.” You mumble. “I'm just not in the mood, okay? That brat gave me a hard time, I don't need my boyfriend adding the fuel.” You grumble, not even looking at him. He seems more relieved to hear that you understand his intention, but he didn't know how to react to what you just said.

He sighs before laying down on the bed and turning his body toward you, still looking at you. “I'm sorry that I have made you feel this way, darling. You're right, I wasn't thinking about your feelings at that moment.” 

“Fine. Now just go to sleep or whatever.” You mumble, your back is still on him. “I can't, love.” He immediately answered.

“Do you know how worried I am right now? I don't want to lose you over something like this.” He added. “You're not. I'm not that dramatic.” You answered shortly before silence fill the room again.

“Are we really going to sleep like this? I don't want to leave things like this between us.” He said while stroking your head from the back.

“Talk to me, love.” He's desperate from your continued silence. “You're so difficult to handle sometimes.” He said in a playful tone, hoping to lighten up the mood between the two of you.

You pout against the pillow at his words. He chuckled softly at your response before he slowly lifted his body to move your front so he could see you.

“Do you always have to be like this when you get moody?” He said in a teasing tone before he started to poke at you playfully. He can't help it, he always feels like poking you whenever you pout and act like a child.

He suddenly stops poking you and sits down, sighing loudly before he speaks up again. “I'm sorry, love.” He said again. “I didn't know this would turn out to be a serious issue. I thought you would laugh or play along with me like you always do whenever I tease you.”

“Can you forgive me?” He asked in a pleading tone. You only nod against the pillow, “Okay.”

“Is that really all I get?” He whispered with a soft chuckle while trying to joke with you. “I know you're still a little bit upset with me from what I did earlier.” He went silent for a moment. “Could you smile for me, please?” He asked softly as he looked at you with a smile of his own.

“Not in the mood.” You mumble the same words again. “Just hug me.” He gives you a small nod and moves even closer to you before opening his arm and pulling you in for a warm hug.

“You're not allowed to move away from me, okay?” He said playfully before kissing you on the forehead, stroking your hair gently while still hugging you.

“You don't need to talk or smile if you're feeling moody.” He kisses you again on the forehead. “I just want to feel your presence here right now.” He said before giving you a squeeze in his embrace.

“She's going to cling all over you again tomorrow, don't get attached to her, okay?” You mumble with a hint of worry.

“Attached to her?” He asks you curiously while stroking your hair. “Is that what you're worried about?” He chuckled softly.

“Darling, why would I be attached to her? You're the one I love, and I love you for a really long time now. I'm only treating her like another girl, nothing else.” He added without sounding offended by your possible accusation.

“Now, don't get jealous of her, please.” He then said while smiling sweetly at you, wanting to reassure you that he loves you and only you.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” You nuzzle your nose to his chest before looking up. “Kiss me. I miss you today.” 

“You're such a child, aren't you?” He chuckled at your demand as he got closer to you, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on your lips before he deepened the kiss.

He presses you closer to his body as his other arm wraps around your waist, holding you in place while he was still kissing you, causing him to moan softly.

His hands are now grabbing your body, wanting to feel you more. He's holding you tightly while his lips and tongue are still playing with yours. He breaks off the kiss briefly and lets out a deep breath before he continues kissing you again.

Just like you predicted, Yui is all over your boyfriend again. This time, you're not as annoyed as yesterday after getting his assurance last night.

“Suguru-kun~ Let's walk around?” She clings to his arm as she speaks with her exaggerated sweet tone.

“Uh... Sure, I guess.” He said, sounding a bit unsure of his answer. He starts to figure that Yui can be very persistent, but it's not worth it to push her away so he gives in.

You followed closely from behind. Seems like you're no longer looking after her from cursed spirits, it's more like looking after her so she won't do anything beyond the line with your boyfriend.

“Miss Babysitter! I'm thirsty, buy me something to drink.” She turns around to talk to you, again with the demanding tone.

You roll your eyes with a sigh, ”Yes, princess.” before you walk away to find the nearest vending machine.

He looked at you when Yui asked you for a drink, not liking the way she talks to you, it makes him irritated by how demanding she was. “You can't buy it yourself?” He asked her with a raised brow.

“It's her job as my babysitter, isn't it? She's paid to do that.” Yui shrugs, not seeing the problem with this. 

“You know... You can ask her in a nicer way, Yui-chan. I'm sure she will get you a drink without your demanding tone.” He advises Yui in a soft tone, like how he would scold Gojo for the way he talks.

“But, I'm being nice, though? I didn't ask a lot, didn't I?” She answered as if it was a normal thing to her. He was a little bit stumped by her remark, not expecting her answer to be like that.

“You could've said ‘please’, Yui-chan.” He chuckled softly without sounding annoyed. “But, seriously though... You should be nicer.” He switches his tone to a stern tone. “Don't ask it like that, it's rude.”

“So boring!” She whines. “Ah, by the way, I've been wanting to say this since last night, but I like you.” She lets go of his arm and steps in front of him.

He stares at her, both surprised and shocked at her sudden confession right in front of him. “What? You like me?” He asks back, somewhat confused.

“You... What do you mean?” He said in a rush voice, trying to process his thoughts right now since he doesn't know how he should respond.

“Do you mean you like me as a person or...?” He then said, still sounding confused and unsure about what was going on with Yui right now.

His eyes then widened as he finally realized what she meant with her confession, not believing what he just heard.

“What?” He sounds surprised and more scared this time, also wondering if she just made a move toward him.

“You can't be serious, right? You do know that I already have a girlfriend, and I love her.” He brushes it off after a while with a small chuckle, thinking that her love confession was just a joke of some sort.

Yui's face quickly turns into an annoyed one when he doesn't seem to take her confession seriously. “I'm serious!” She frowns at him. “I'll prove it to you.” She reached his shoulder before leaning up to kiss his lips.

He flinches back when Yui leaned in quickly to kiss his lips, taken by surprise by the sudden action that the brat just did. He stepped back, looking at her with a mixture of surprise and disappointment.

“Yui, what are you doing?!” He said in a hurried and panicked tone, asking her what she was trying to accomplish by kissing him right now when he already has you as his girlfriend. “What was that for?” His tone turns cold by the second, still trying to process what Yui has done just now.

At the same time, you just come back and are greeted by the sight. You slam one of the three soda cans that you just bought in anger, which it's supposed to be for her.

“What is this?” You glare at them. Geto immediately turns at you, wanting to explain himself and what the brat, Yui, just tried to do earlier.

He notices your angry look, but he can't really say anything against you. You have the right to be mad after what Yui was trying to do.

“Darling, I can explain everything. She's just... trying to get a reaction out of me...” He explained, sounding worried and desperate. “It's nothing like what you think it is, love!” He continued, the panic in his voice as clear as day.

He pulls himself out from Yui's hold and quickly walks towards you, holding both of your hands in tight grip. “Darling, please, trust me. I would never do anything that would hurt you like that. I love you, I only love you!" He looks at you seriously, still with a hint of panic and concern in his tone.

“So?” You turn to Yui, still standing there as if she did nothing wrong. “What does my pussy taste like?” You ask Yui straightforwardly, tilting your head to the side and crossing your arms as you glare at her.

Both of them instantly freeze at your vulgar and embarrassing question to Yui, as she lets out a surprised yelp at your word. She didn't expect this to happen, and she didn't expect a harsh word like that from you.

“If you want to taste his dick so bad you should have kissed me instead.” You look at her in disgust. Yui's eyes widened as she heard what you said and that you were serious about it.

Geto then looks at you, feeling surprised by the way you confronted her right now. “Darl—” He started, wanting to say something, but then he stopped, letting you do the talk and let out your frustration at her. 

“Don't you dare talk about such things, (Y/N)-chan! I only want to be close to him because I like him, not because I want... something else." She said nervously, clearly not telling the truth, before she started to tremble when a mixture of fear and embarrassment washed over her.

“Yui-chan, what makes you think you can try to kiss me without any hesitation? You need to learn that everyone has boundaries, including yourself.” He looks at her disappointedly as he scolds her once again.

Yui's face turns red from how angry and humiliated she is after being confronted like this. And for the first time in four days, she doesn't know how to talk back like she usually does.

“I'm sick of her ass. I really am.” You take out your phone, quickly texting your upperclassmen. “I'm switching with Mei-san. She knows how to handle a brat like this one.”

“Go back to your room! I'm not assisting you again this time.” You raise your voice at her after days of keeping your annoyance back. She looks at you wide-eyed, ready to complain but when she sees how Geto looks at her, she shakes her head and runs away to the dorm.

He nods, glad that you made a good choice. “Yeah, that's actually not a bad idea. Mei-san is a good choice... I think she'll be able to handle Yui.”

He then looked at where Yui is going, wanting to confront and advise her more about her behavior, but he doesn't want to continue talking to her for too long, as he knows it will only lead to another argument and possible trouble.

He turns to you, sensing your silence while you're busy on the phone. “I'm sorry about Yui, love... I know you're still mad at me, but, please, hear me out.” He looks at you, wanting to talk to you right now as he wants to clear out this misunderstanding between the two of you.

Eventually, he walks to your side and stands close behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He then leans on your shoulder before kissing it gently. “Are you angry... with me, too?” He said in a quiet tone as he gently caressed your hair with his free hand.

“My baby...” He sighs softly when you don't answer and takes your hand gently on his own. “Can you look at me, please?” He pleads, wanting to see your face, hoping to get a chance to see your beautiful smile again.

“I'm upset.” You put your phone down. He lets out a small chuckle as he looks at you. “I know, you just gave me ‘the look’ of your sulkiness just now.”

“Still, can you look at me for a little bit? Even if you're mad at me at the moment, I still want to see your beautiful smile... I miss it.” He said softly, stepping in front of you again as he held your cheek.

“Mei-san wants the reward of my mission in return.” You pout, showing him your text with Mei-Mei, another reason you're upset.

3,000,000 yen for 5 days? Interesting. I'll take the last-day offer, then.

I'm expecting the 600.000 yen in return~

“Huh.” He reads her text. “Well, that's Mei-san for you. She loves money more than anything else.” He said in a light tone.

You look at him again. “You know, I really want to wipe your lips after that kiss with Yui.” His eyes widened at your comment. He then lets out a small chuckle, feeling slightly embarrassed by your comment.

“But, she forced herself onto me.” He said, guilty but still wanting to make things clear. “I'm sorry... If you want me to wipe my lips, then you can do so anytime.” He said, not refusing your offer.

You smile at him, cupping his face to give him a long, deep kiss. He let out a soft sigh, enjoying the feeling of your kiss, even for a moment. “This lips... Is mine to taste...” You say between kisses.

“Mmm...” He lets out a soft sound in response to your action, leaning toward you even more. He returns your kiss, making sure that it's deep and full of affection for you. His eyes were closed as if he just wants to savor your kiss as much as possible. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your body while caressing your back. 

“Mm, I needed that..." He said softly after you two broke off from the kiss, looking at you with a smile on his face. He kisses you again, one of his hands going up to the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

You pushed your tongue against his lips to part them open, letting your tongue enter his mouth to savor him. “Mmm... Love that... Your taste...” He murmur between kisses before he pressed his lips more against yours with a bit of aggressiveness, wanting the kiss to be as fiery and lustful as he feels inside from this moment of the kiss.

He slowly moves both of his hands to your hips and pulls you towards him, wanting to feel you closer to him. He starts to kiss you down your neck, his lips trailing down your throat, nibbling the skin of your sensitive spot, his teeth lightly grazing against the delicate skin around your skin until it leaves a mark there before licking it.

“Speaking of taste...” His lips trail back up from your neck to your cheek, kissing the side of your lips. “What did you say I tasted like?” He reminds you of what you said earlier, wanting to hear it again.

“Mine.”

Got carried away with this 😮‍💨 It's originally longer, but I decided to cut some parts and replaced it with shorter words because it's already long enough 😭

#ೋღ—物語. #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto x female reader #geto suguru #geto #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #jjk geto suguru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto scenario #geto imagine #geto fanfiction #geto fic

[pinkthrone445]

-Abbott's house-

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Fluff, funny, soft

Warnings:none(?) future smut

Summary:The district gives the school the idea of spending a month living together to strengthen bonds, you never thought that would change your relationship with some so much.

Hi! This is an interactive story, if some thinks about something funny that one of the people of Abbott would be like to do, and you would like me to introduce it in the second part of the fic, you can leave it on the comments. I hope you like this part!

Abbott's shenanigans

There are a lot of things that influence the relationship we have with people, spending a lot of time together, going on vacation together, going on dates, being with someone when they're sick and taking care of them, having a fight or a problem that requires assistance, living together, and so on. It could change the relationship for the worse or strengthen the existing friendship, or sometimes even make love grow.

You and your Abbott classmates commonly spent a lot of time together at work, so you never thought that living with them would make much of a difference, but you were wrong and didn't know how much until Ava walked into the teacher's room accompanied by Janine to make an important announcement.

-"Please, if I can get your attention... I have an important statement, as the vacations arrives, Abbott will begin to do a month of interaction together to reinforce the fellowship and friendship between us so we can work better together as a team an as a family, you can say that you do not want to go, but keep in mind that it will be an all-paying month in a shared house, the groups will be 8 people per house, which if everyone says yes, this group will be a house shared by Melissa, Barbara, Jacob, Gregory, Ava, (Y/N), Mr. Johnson and I"-Commented a very excited Janine seeing everyone-"The house has 5 rooms, so some will have to share a room and others won't, we will fix that later depending on who says yes... It also has 1 private bathroom per room and a large one downstairs, it has a fully equipped kitchen, a dining room and living room with television, a terrace, a patio and a heated pool... The only thing you would have to bring is the clothes you would use, personal towel and any hygiene items you prefer besides personal medicines... You will also have money to go shopping, there will be group activities and you will have 2 days completely free to do whatever you want or go visit your family. If you want to be part of this, talk to me or Ava and we'll write you down, I hope you take advantage of the time the district decide to give us something for free..."Janine muttered the last part before leaving the teacher's room, leaving you all a little surprised with the news.

Immediately the murmurs and questions began

-"Gregory let's go together and share a room!" - Jacob murmured excitedly, grabbing his friend's arm

-"I don't know... I have my day to day planned even to what I eat, it would be a big change" - he replied without much conviction

-"Please! If we do this I'll have one more month to find a new apartment... Besides this will help me with my breakup...You know how sad I've been"-Jacob was using the pity card and Gregory knew it, but he loved him too much to say no...

-"Fine, but you better keep the room clean" - Gregory muttered under his breath, and Jacob jumped and danced happily

-"Are you going Barbs?" - Mel asked her friend she shrugged her shoulders

-"I have to ask Gerald first, but if I go, I want a room to myself so I can use my breathing machine... You?" - Barbara asked

-"I think maybe...I'm very bored alone, it will be a good distraction... You?"-Mel asked you this time while you were eating

-"I want to... I mean, paid vacation? Count me in, besides I don't have anything else to do"-You smiled looking at the redhead.

Little by little, everyone else got on board with the idea of spending the vacation together, so before you could think about it much more, you were already driving to the house where you would spend the next month of your life.

You were one of the first to arrive, even though there were already two cars in the driveway. You carefully unloaded your bags and walked inside the house, suddenly finding Ava and Janine talking and arguing.

-"Hello girls..."-You whispered trying to go unnoticed and not interrupt or get involved in the discussion

-"(Y/N)! Welcome!" - Janine yelled, walking away from the principal and getting closer to you-"All the rooms are assigned already... Yours is the one to the right in the second floor, you can settle in and when everyone arrives, we will handle you sheets with the schedule for the month, Okey? Enjoy" -The petite woman barely let you say hello before going back to her chat with Ava. You carefully brought your bags up and noticed that you had a shared room, although you still didn't know with whom.

After settling everything in, you felt more people arrive at the house and before you knew it, your roommate had walked through the door

-"Hello roommate" - Mel muttered, leaving her bags on her bed and smiling at you

-"Oh, hi Mel... I thought you will be sharing a room with Barb... I mean, sorry, from everyone that I could got, I'm happy it's you..." - You muttered a little embarrassed

-"Yeah... Barbara wanted a room to herself, but Ava and Mr. Johnson asked for it first, so Barbara was assigned with Janine, Gregory, and Jacob together and you and me together..."-The redhead began to unpack her bag as you looked at her

-"Do you want me to swap rooms with Barbara so you are together? It's not a hassle at all" - You responded, helping her with her stuff

-"Don't bother, Ava did this because she wants us to strengthen our bonds with people that we don't get together as much, so we are stuck together... Also, Ava did this arrangements because she wanted a whole room for herself"-she muttered, arranging her clothes on one of the furnitures

-"Okey... Do you want to set some ground rules or something? I don't wanna bother you"-You asked sitting on your bed looking at her

-"Just by saying that, I already like you a thousand times more... I just don't want the light on after 12 if possible and dry the bathroom thoroughly after a shower. I think that's it. You?" - she commented, turning to look at you and you shrugged your shoulders

-"I don't think so..."-You muttered before you pulled out one of your books and started reading while she sorted out her things.

The week began to pass normally, each one received their activity sheet, which included movie nights (each one would choose one movie per night), you had physical activities together, walks, reading nights, month game night, each one was assigned a place in the house to clean and other chores together. Everyone would have to cook or go shopping from time to time. Take some classes for school, etc.

It would be a busy and interactive month.

Your coexistence with Mel was going well, more than well, the fact that you didn't make her angry so far said a lot.

When the first movie night rolled around, Jacob chose the movie "It", which you tried to avoid because you didn't like horror movies and because you hated clowns, but Ava said it was a must-do activity so you had to stay, although the truth was that she wanted to laugh at how scared you were.

Before the movie started, you made popcorn for everyone and sat next to the redhead who was the only empty spot on the couch. Mel smiled at you and covered your legs with the blanket she had, sharing it with you.

At first you avoided watching the movie by looking at your phone, but Ava told you to turn it off so you no longer had any distractions, nervously, you started playing with your fingers but Mel noticed your fidgeting, carefully she took one of your hands with hers and intertwined her fingers with yours smiling at you

-"It's okay, it's just a movie, I'm here with you..."-she whispered close to your ear, making you blush. You never thought that sharing just a couple of days together would make the redhead more fond of you and want to take care of you.

The rest of the movie you saw it without letting go of her hand and shaking a little when the damn clown appeared, witch was all the time.

At the end of the movie you were one of the first to go to your room, as soon as you entered you lay down on your bed and started watching cartoons on your cell phone trying to get the face of the damn clown out of your memory. Mel carefully entered the room and stared at you tenderly, you looked like a small sacred child

-"Are you watching Bluey?" - she whispered, trying not to alarm you

-"Yes... I hate clowns and now I'm scared and I won't be able to sleep if I'm like this... Don't laugh at me please"-You muttered in shame and she shook her head

-"Never... I'll go take a shower, you can leave the lights on tonight if you want..."-She responded taking off her clothes in front of you, seeing her in her underwear made you forget your fears for a moment, it wasn't until the redhead walked through the bathroom door that you came back to reality and back to your cartoons.

After a few minutes, the room filled with the scent of flowers when the redhead came out of the bathroom, you followed her with your eyes waiting for her to go to her bed, but instead she stood in front of you

-"Move a little, give me a little of room, I'll sleep with you so you don't get bad dreams"-Mel suggested and you gave her space a little confused, thinking maybe she was joking. She carefully climbed onto your bed with her pajamas on and gently hugged you making you snuggle on her chest, consciously or unconsciously, this was making you feel safe and calmer.

Your heart began to beat more slowly and your head stopped thinking, her hands gently scratched the back of your neck and the beating of her heart over your ear made you breathe more calmly and steady, even the darkness and silence of the room provided a calm atmosphere now that she was by your side.

When Mel began to feel like you were falling asleep, she kissed your forehead gently

-"Good night hon, I'll take care of you..."-She whispered before you fell asleep completely.

Unable to believe it, you slept through the night without any nightmares, and when you woke up Melissa was still by your side sleeping and cuddling you. Not wanting to wake her, you tried to gently snuggle closer to her. You couldn't believe how good she smelled and how beautiful she looked while she sleeps. When you were about to snuggle up on her chest, her voice startled you

-"I'm already awake hon... Good morning" -she commented in a thick voice making you blush

-"I'm sorry...I...it's just that you're so warm that I wanted to get closer to you... Besides you smell so nice..."-You began to stutter from nerves that you had been caught in your attempt to be close to her-"I didn't want to disturb you, just feel your warmth..."-The redhead snuggled you with her arms putting you close to her chest making you shut up by being almost between her breasts

-"I said good morning... And you didn't answer" - She commented in a raspy voice

-"I... I'm sorry, good morning Mel" - You replied and closed your eyes taking a big breath to etch her perfume into your memory

-"Did I help? Did you have any nightmares?" - She asked and you shook your head with your eyes still closed-"Good... Do you want to go cook breakfast together?" - She asked again and after a few seconds of thinking, you nodded. Although you'd like to stay in that bed for as long as possible, if you said something, you might make her feel uncomfortable. Gathering all the strength in the world, you sat up on the bed and stretched out your arms under the watchful eye of the redhead.

After the two got ready, you went to the kitchen with the redhead to make breakfast. No one was up yet, so that gave more peace and quiet to cook. You and the redhead worked together like a well-oiled machine, it seemed like you had been cooking together for years as you saw how you helped and understood each other. The redhead put on Italian music and was surprised when you started singing, seeing you with different eyes than she did a few days ago.

At the time you didn't know it, but that month would be one of the most intense and crazy where your life would take a 180-degree turn, changing everything, especially your relationship with your coworker and roomie.

#melissa schemmenti soft #melissa schemmenti smut #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti abott elementary #abott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfic #abott elementary #abbot elementary #lisa ann walter fanfic #lissa ann walter #lisa ann walter #lwl #pinkthrone445 #Pinkthrone445fanfic

[tarotbyopal]

Advice to help you manifest miracles

Hi lovey welcome to another PAC reading <3 thank you for being here an for supporting my work! I appreciate you all so much!

🫧Piles: 1-2-3

🫧Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Calm your breath and remove all of the thoughts from your mind. When you try to focus on the reading at hand which number or image comes to mind? That is your pile

Paid readings | Memberships

Pile 1 What you need to know

The sun

Pile 1 you need to know that although it may not seem like it at times you are heading in the right direction - slowly but surely. You will be able to bring this manifestation quicker to you if you stop stressing and instead focus on what is right in front of you. Try new things and enjoy some time in the sunshine this year, especially during spring. Go for a walk or take a book out and have a picnic by yourself. Fall back in love with life, this is something extremely important for you. To find joy in the little things. What makes you happy and what makes you grateful? Are you happy right now?

If you are currently procrastinating something - you are probably overcomplicating it. Pile 1 some of you may still be studying or you may be learning a new language. It’s ok to casually do this. The more you keep your head busy, the less likely you are to contradict your manifestation.

What you need to release

9 of cups

You may need to release what you think you want. It is likely that you are wanting to take big steps in your manifestation. This is ok to do if you don’t get stuck along the way (which I believe may be happening to you right now). For example you may have a new job as a manager assistant but instead of being happy you are sad because you are not the manager. Instead of viewing the situation in a negative light you need to see that you are closer than ever at being manager and that this will likely happen soon. Try to turn the negatives into positives right now. Success can come overnight, but it doesn’t have to. Going viral doesn’t mean anything if you are not prepared for it.

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Pile 2  What you need to know

The hierophant

It is time to question all beliefs and rules pile 2 and you are on the way to creating your own rules. It is important that whilst manifesting you do a thorough research on this topic, but this doesn't mean that you have to abide by everyone’s rules. There are no rules when it comes to manifestation - you create limitations for yourself. So be more aware of what limitations the teachers that you have chosen to follow have and how the limitations impact these people. Then try to decide on what it is that you want, what limitations are holding you back and how you can get around this. Pile 2 you guys are intelligent and studious - use this to your advantage now more than ever,

What you need to release

King of wands

Empowerment is not the same as domination. Be careful with your words and how you are making others feel now more than ever pile 2. Just because you are more aware of your power and limitation does not mean that you need to hang out with people who have the same belief, or that you need to change the beliefs of your friends. Focus on yourself and take inspired action when required. You may also need to be aware that you need to reel in your own expectations towards yourself and instead create little goals here and there. Have you ever tried to manifest a free cup of coffee? I have…it didn’t really work until a month later I found myself in a job where my boss buys me a cup of coffee everyday. Did I ever expect this? No! But here we are! Expect the unexpected pile 2 and be open to taking action.

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Pile 3 What you need to know

Ace of wands

Pile 3 you may either be new to manifestation or you are currently working on something new. What’s brewing?  You are being asked to take a stance on your desire and your manifestation. It’s time to choose this. You need to do it. For some reason you may think that this is a bit risky - that you are closing off other options but if you truly wish for this thing to come to you, you need to choose it and be certain about it.  When the time comes to make this choice though…it may be a bit dramatic?! It could be in front of people or something along those lines. But you ought to do it.  There is a new beginning brewing for you so know that everything that you desire is not out of reach because if it wasn’t you wouldn’t be desiring it in the first place.

What you need to release

The magician in reverse Pile 3 the message is the same ahah you need to take a strong stance on things right now. Commit commit commit and stop making excuses. It is also a good time for you to reassert power over some parts of your life that may currently be out of control. Whether this is your work/life balance, your friendship, your relationship or your career. You are being asked to create stronger and healthier boundaries so that you can succeed. rekindle, realign, renew, replace, reflect. Once you do his everything will fall into place naturally. I promise.

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All the love xx

#pac readings #pacreading #pac reading #pac tarot #pac #pick a photo #pick a deck #pick a picture #pick a card reading #tarot card reading #tarot readings #tarot reading #tarot community #intuitive tarot reading #intuitive reading

[ataraxiaspainting]

Hier Encore I.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: Yorknew Police Department Headquarters, 1995, April 10th. You are a director of public safety. The Phantom Troupe attacks the headquarters and takes you under the guise of a hostage situation. Even when the ransom is paid, you are never returned and assumed to be dead. After thirteen months of captivity, in 1996, on May 9th, you escape and try to learn how to live again somewhere far away from your captor. The payment of freedom comes with a steep cost, one that stains your hands so much that even if you drown them in bleach, the stain will remain there for the rest of your life.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectively, not SFW implications, misogynistic undertones (not from Chrollo), manipulation, references to religion, violence/gore, minor character death, and past stalking.

Word Count: 18k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Lacrimosa by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

4:00 A.M. by Taeko Onuki

My Girlfriend Is a Witch by October Country

Michelle by Sir Chloe

Sonne by Rammstein

Enemy by Imagine Dragons

Venus Fly Trap by MARINA

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

cult leader by KiNG MALA

Teacher’s Pet by Melanie Martinez 

"She looked like a vixen, and that’s what she was; she had all the instincts of a female fox. She was the proverbial predatory female. She had what she wanted, now, and she was content. There was just the getting completely away with it that counted.” – Gil Brewer, Sin for Me

i. “Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow."

The sitting rooms in these types of hotels have always been your favorite place to sit because of the scenery. There is almost always a large window overlooking whatever city you are temporarily placed in with your captor, making everything below you seem insignificant. You see nothing other than your faded reflection in the window and blinking city lights that are so small they seem like a city of stars. At the same time, you can only touch the framed glass panes or the couch you are sitting on. You can only hear Chrollo’s pleased hums and the occasional page-turning of his current novel. You cannot feel or hear the world outside, no matter how much you try to imagine such.

When you were working, you would use your phone to notify others of what you were doing at work or when you would arrive home, but now you can't feel your pants pocket where the phone was usually kept. It would vibrate or chime loudly as its duty as your alarm and messenger. The phone, once opened, would relay your family members’ voices, or your boss’, or your assistants’. Even if some voices were secretly irritating to you before, you feel compelled to admit that they are better than hearing nothing other than the squeaky wheels of a room service cart or the air conditioner. You cannot feel the rest of your work uniform, a classic white dress shirt and black tie. You cannot hear your co-workers’ drunken laughs as they cheer with large glasses of beer in their hands. A small thud catches your attention, making you turn your head in that direction. Chrollo is putting his book down on the coffee table in front of you two. It is closed, with the cover facing upward, and the title in a foreign language. His cup is empty except for a few drops, having been previously filled with black coffee. Yours simply has room-temperature water, still filled to the brim. You make eye contact for a second or two, his eyes calm and composed. Chrollo breaks it as his arm reaches out towards his coffee cup. He picks it up with grace, sipping quietly before setting it back down on its porcelain saucer. A small smile forms on his pale lips as he looks at you.

"You seem rather bored, my dear. Would you mind conversing with me?”

“No, I would not mind.” You say, your lips moving to mimic his own with precision.

“Marvelous. Would you like to talk about anything in particular?” Chrollo asks, his left arm moving to rest on the couch.

“Anything you would like to discuss.”

“If you insist.” He places one of his legs over the other; his posture is relaxed but his stare is suddenly intense. “There is something I would like to ask of you. Tell me, do you enjoy being here with me?”

“I do. I needed some time to adjust, but I like it here. I have fewer responsibilities than what I used to have.” 

“Wonderful.” Chrollo’s smile widens.

You know that he would not be pleased if you told him the truth; that you feel nothing for him aside from disdain. His softness would fade and give way to his true colors rapidly. An eye-catching crimson red specifically. It is the color of blood, danger, fire, some species of spiders and snakes… It is the color of danger and anger. Perhaps he would threaten to murder a dear friend of yours. Perhaps he would hit you. Perhaps he would isolate you even further by not returning for days at a time. Perhaps he will tie you to the bed. …Perhaps he will kill you. It would be easy, you know it from the bits of strength he has shown you. All it would take is a simple wave of his hand and–

“I enjoy having you here, beside me. Your presence is very comforting.” His eyes glimmer for what seems like less than a fifth of a second, a light that you learned only shows when he is curious about something.

“Did you want to ask me something?”

“I am glad you noticed.” His head tilts slightly to the side. “I do have something I want to ask you.”

“Well, what is your question?”

“Do you plan to try to run away from me?” His cold tone and facial expression are unlike the one he had a few moments ago. 

“No. I do not.” You shake your head and take his hand gently. “What better place is there to be other than having you by my side?”

Chrollo’s eyes seem to soften at your answer. His posture returns to one of no worries. His shoulders are not as tense. His breathing is a bit steadier. He looks at your hand with a slight smile. He leans a bit towards you. He squeezes your hand lightly. You put your head on his shoulder to further convince him to believe the lie. Your captor hums with a pleased voice.

He is cold to the touch. It is like your hand is in a blizzard, a small warm flame surrounded by snow. There is a slight stinging sensation. It is colder than literal ice on your skin. Chrollo’s grip is tender yet strong, making it clear that he does not want to let go of your soft hand. 

You feel his nose go into your hair and dare not do anything to stop it.

Your kidnapper inhales sharply and sighs fondly. His breath smells like mint; sharp, fresh, and cool. To distract yourself from the unpleasant truth, you look around the hotel room. There is a rose bouquet in front of you two, still fresh since you both arrived this morning. They are a deep burgundy color, similar to that of the city lights outside. The glass they were placed in is intricate with flower markings. The coffee table is rosewood by the looks of it, most likely polished right before you two came. The curtains on the sides of the large window are a fawn brown, obviously to match the roses. The carpet is a beige with chocolate brown swirl patterns on it. You try to follow one with your eyes but get lost in it after a few seconds. The couch you two are sitting on is beige as well. Perhaps the reason why this room is so dull is because of how colorful the city outside of it is. Designs like this are probably why this city has so many tourists. Either that or Chrollo chose its blandness specifically because he still wanted an aura of superiority, both literally with how high the hotel room is above and in spirit with the colors. It is ironic, but Chrollo’s white dress shirt is the brightest thing inside this room. You wonder if his clothing choice was on purpose too.

You know yours was. A black dress that stops just before your knees, with gold earrings and anklet. It is a part of your plan to lower his guard. You just washed your hair a few hours ago and put on a bit too much perfume. You walk with confidence yet not too much of it. It is similar to how you used to dress when you went to parties hosted by members of high society, tasked to butter them up a little to the higher-ups’ requests for funding public safety projects. Those people were pompous for certain, but still childish and easily fooled. Chrollo, on the other hand, is pompous but intelligent and a manipulator himself, hence why you have done this dance for the past thirteen months for him to lower his guard. You think it is working, but it is not time to escape just yet.

There are still matters that must be attended to. Like a possible escape route. You know that if you try to escape Chrollo in this hotel he will catch you quite quickly since this room is so small and he will for sure notice if the only hotel key is missing. Also, you note that you cannot know for sure whether or not Chrollo fully trusts you at this point. You plan to ask him to take you on a date tomorrow and then run away once you see an area with much fewer people. You will hide a change of clothes in your purse and change your appearance. You will use a false name from then on. You will try to notify your loved ones about your whereabouts and tell them to move within a few days to be safe just in case the Troupe knows where they live. Then you will try to go north then east using the money you have secretly been stealing from him. If he says no or still has a tight grip on you throughout the day, you will not try to escape that day and try within a few more months. You will repeat this process until you have escaped successfully. You must make sure that you have loosened Chrollo’s grip on you enough, otherwise, he will catch you quickly. Who knows what will happen after that? Who knows if you will ever get this chance again? The answer is most likely never.

“Your scent… it’s nice.” Chrollo whispers.

You bat your eyelashes at him as a response.

Chrollo’s eyes appear to be full of adoration. Your makeup is fully done, a style that you know your captor likes. Winged black eyeliner. Black eyeshadow. Dark red lipstick. Your hair is in a braid with your bangs just slightly covering your eyes. Your nails are painted a color to match your eyes.

Deep down, you worry if this is enough, too much, or too little. If it is too much, he will catch on fast, and you will pay dearly for the consequences. If it is too little, he shall not be impressed and not take you outside tomorrow. It has to be just right. Chrollo leans in closer, still making eye contact as you bat your lashes. His hand is still grabbing onto yours, but it seems to have gotten a little warmer because of the heat of your own. Either that, or you had gotten used to it.

“You truly are a sight… My girl…” Chrollo’s other hand makes its way to your cheek. There is a strong scent of flowers coming off of you. He leans in more until his face and yours are just inches apart. “You smell lovely… Let me taste you.”

You hide your disgust and nod your head. 

Chrollo’s lips touch yours. The cold hand that was holding yours also makes it upward toward your other cheek and squeezes lightly. His fingers are thicker than yours. His fingernails are in pristine condition as usual. His wrists are bony. His skin looks callused, but in actuality, it is quite soft. There aren’t any scars or injuries on them, which is remarkable considering what he does for a living. You wonder if those he killed had touched his soft skin and thought they were being strangled by silk instead of actual human hands. His lips are soft too. Chrollo’s kisses always were elegant and gentle, but you think that is because you have tried your hardest to not disobey him. You wonder if the people Chrollo extorted information out of knew the touch of his lips. At least some of them knew, you think. Chrollo is attractive to many people, both rich and poor. He had told you a few stories such as when he had a sexual relationship with an older woman who had a high-paying role in government and one day he ran off with all of the riches in her safe. She died soon after. Chrollo says she died of a broken heart. You don’t know whether he meant she was mentally heartbroken and was joking with you or she had her heart mangled by Chrollo during her last few minutes alive. You don’t think you want to know the answer either. 

Chrollo’s tongue starts to trace your lower lip with greed. You feel your heart nearly skip a beat. Let me out, you want to say. Let me out. It feels like you are black and blue all over from all the tall hurdles you had to jump through to make it this far. A voice in the back of your mind says that the outside will never heal your wounds, but giving in would. It is better to just give up, it speaks in the back of your mind with a forked tongue and unsettlingly calm tone. It would be better to just accept it. Perhaps Stockholm Syndrome is settling in, or it is just your hope for the future withering away.

Your kidnapper bites slightly on your lower lip and looks deeply into your eyes. His pupils are dilated.

You look down at his lips and notice the hue of your dark red lipstick.

Chrollo doesn’t seem to care as he pulls your face towards his own again. Either that or he did not notice it, but it is unlikely considering how perceptive he is. His cold hands hold your warm face in place as you feel his hot breath tickle your nostrils. His elbows go underneath your armpits and stab into the couch. You hear nothing except for his breathing because you look at the clock on the wall to distract yourself yet again. It is nearly midnight. 

Your perfume smells like dahlias and roses, which Chrollo has mentioned liking on you before.

His right hand pushes your right cheek into the arm of the couch and he starts to suck and bite your neck.

Your skin is soft as usual, looking like porcelain.

Chrollo has complimented it before. He has complimented your scent before. He has complimented your makeup before. He has complimented your hair before. You look beautiful, there is always a genuineness in his tone that would make you feel slightly sick like you were going to throw up whatever expensive fruit or chocolate you had eaten. You would never voice it though, because that would mean all the progress you have made to lower his guard would be for nothing. It would only make him test your sufferance further by doing unspeakable acts against you or your loved ones. The only weapons he has not taken away from you are your tactical mind and honeyed words. If you play them correctly, you will eventually escape and live a somewhat peaceful life. 

Chrollo moves upward toward your ear and nibbles at your lobe softly. “You are so beautiful, my precious.” He whispers. “So beautiful…” His perfume smells like sandalwood and musk. “Like a doll. Truly, you’re quite the sight to see…” Chrollo purrs.

His fingers trace the top of your hair.

“Like silk. So soft and gentle…” His fingers dance downward on your braid, twisting back and forth. “The shampoo I chose for you was a good choice.”

You smile.

“White jasmine…” A sweet and soft scent. Swirls of saccharine and fruit. A slight tart smell of citrus. Universally ambrosial paired with the bitter words that leave your syrup-covered lips; making a charming palette of a flavor similar to that of biting into a square of dark chocolate mixed with orange zest. The texture is not ever strange because of how well-crafted the chocolate is. It is not difficult to swallow but doesn’t melt in the mouth too fast either. The delicacy’s flavor stays in the mouth even after it is fully dissolved, coating each tooth in a substance that has a lovely bittersweet taste like honey mixed with black tea. “It suits you.”

*~*~*~*

1995, April 10th. The Phantom Troupe targeted the Yorknew Police Department Headquarters, one of the largest public safety headquarters in the world, killing 1,891 people. 

A lot of them were on the lower floors, scampering away to locked exits like stray, captured cats, clawing and screaming at the metal doors to open. You sometimes envy them, for their time with the Troupe was short. They knew how their fate was going to end; swift and twisted. A quick punch. A sudden stab. A loud blast of a firearm. They knew how they were going to die. They comforted each other as they were ripped limb from limb. 

You don’t know how you are going to die, or when you are going to die. You could die in a few seconds, a few months, or a few years. You could die by being shot, being poisoned, or being strangled. No one came to comfort you, and no one comforts you now. No one listened to your struggles and cries for help as you were pushed in a black car, gagged and restrained. No one helped you in one of your most desperate moments. 

You are tired of doing everything with the person that made your life a living hell. You want to go back to eating dinner at a restaurant and not feel an unwanted hand on your thigh. You want to go back to sleep with a loose arm around you and not a strangling one. You want to go back to talking to someone you like about a topic you like and not think your every move toward freedom is a gamble.

1995, April 10th. The Phantom Troupe targeted the Yorknew Police Department Headquarters, one of the largest public safety headquarters in the world, killing 1,891 people, leaving very few people to tell others of the tale. Perhaps you count, but you are presumed dead by the outside world so it wouldn’t matter anyhow. You are all alone and stuck in a situation akin to limbo. 

*~*~*~*

Chrollo keeps batting his eyelashes at you across the dining table.

His hair is well-kept, he is wearing a fancy suit, and his nearly black eyes are wider and brighter than when you saw him last. It is well past sunset, the sky outside the window a murky, livid color. He is humming now, staring at you rather than the uncut steak in front of him. You are about to stop playing with your food when–

“Black is a good color on you.”

Your head jerks up. His eyes are even more vivid, and focused, while yours are uncertain. Your hand stops moving your fork to your mouth and falls back to the table lifelessly. 

“Your dress,” he smiles.

“I…” You look down and close your eyes. You have to force your shoulders not to shake by thinking of happier times in your life. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” You refuse to look at him for it will show what you are feeling. Your heart beats so fast that you feel like you are about to go into cardiac arrest. “I have something for you, after dinner.”

He has just come back from another successful heist in this city. It makes sense.

“I’m not very hungry, Chrollo.”

He hums. “You are going to go hungry.” You hear him place his cup of wine back onto the table. “At least eat the radish soup. You need to eat your vegetables.”

As if brought to existence by his words, you smell the bowl of vegetable soup beside the uneaten steak. You mostly smell the tartness of the tomato slices, big and bright. Mint comes second, fresh yet light compared to the tomato smell. You don’t smell the radish, though, despite the chunks of them being large enough to hardly fit in your spoon.

You open your eyes and lift your hand to pick up the spoon in the bowl. You take a piece of radish in your mouth, quickly chewing the peppery vegetable.

You still refuse to look at your captor. You just try to focus on eating the soup so you can at least temporarily avoid his gaze. You are never this nervous when you are about to try to manipulate someone into doing what you say, but Chrollo’s eye for tactics is about the same as yours. When you are almost done with your soup, you suddenly hear Chrollo’s chair move, followed by footsteps.

“You’re nervous.”

You shake your head and take the last bite of your soup. “I am not. I am just thinking about something, dear.”

He grabs the hand that was holding your spoon. His thumb makes circles around your own.

You take some of the quietest and quickest deep breaths and look at Chrollo, the corners of your mouth turning upwards into another deceitful smile. “You don’t need to worry about me. You already work hard enough as it is.”

Chrollo hoists you up and hugs you. 

The window gives way to the starless night sky as dark as obsidian–the moon a slight crescent, and a snow white. It floats atop the carefully cut trees onto their tips and stays there, like a strung puppet in a finished puppet show, unmoving until called upon again by its master. 

“What is my beautiful [First] worried about?” He murmurs. 

“I was examining something.” Your fingertips graze against his palm. You plan to recreate the classic dance of Black Swan Pas de Deux, with you taking on the role of Odile. “Something most peculiar.” Your hand clasps onto his. “I am like a train. I can only run anywhere my rails take me. I suppose you are a new track I have yet to explore, and the only option is to move wherever it is you take me.” His hand feels warm, but not warm enough to comfort others. “It has been an unexpected journey with many stops, but it is my purpose to keep moving forward until the end. The end’s length feels far and I feel that only through death would the tracks cusp.” You stand up straighter than before and your breath echoes in his ear. “People focus more on the train’s condition than the tracks but the tracks are the most important part of the journey. Without tracks, trains would not exist. So, Chrollo…” You feel comfortably numb and not as timid as you were a few minutes ago. “How do you feel?”

You look into your captor’s eyes, and all you see is hell. The very gates of hell in the eyes of a human being. When judgment passes, all of your sins shall be weighed. The only way for your sins to disappear before that day is to lie. 

The Devil himself is waiting for the moment when your mask shatters and gives way to a horrid monstrosity. Only then can he punish you for your misdeeds.

“...How I feel, huh?” Long, silent fingers move like a spider’s legs up and down your back. He is now reciprocating your dance by playing the role of Prince Siegfried. The gramophone plays Beethoven’s Für Elise.  “I think you're a fascinating woman, darling.” His tone is gentle, contrasting with the usual coldness and detachment he carries so often. He moves his other hand to the side of your face and gently caresses your cheeks. “You're smart, creative, and strong. You have a unique charm that sets you apart from everyone else.” 

Like a rose, Chrollo’s thorns and stunningly beautiful features cut deep into both your psyche and the world around you. He has spent what feels like years trying to pluck your petals off one by one in a game of effeuiller la marguerite, the logic behind it being a bizarre combination of many things. His stalk, the axis that connects all his reasons, would be simple curiosity. He was curious to find out where your traits stemmed from, what and who made you the way you are today if you were hiding something nefarious behind that bright smile and kind voice of yours, and thus began his hunt for more knowledge. His calyx, a shield made of his in the form of sepals, represents how protective he is of his deepest, darkest secrets. He has buried them all beneath a temple of fake phlegmatism and honesty. The petals of his biggest and most colorful flower lead his admirers astray so they could never uncover the real Chrollo, which you think is a mercy in itself. Most of those who have seen his true self are buried along with it soon enough.

You want to take a lighter and light him ablaze so that he shall never reroot in the soil around him. The only way you can do such a thing is to play a game of effeuiller la marguerite as well. This is the path you must take to get your freedom back.

The key is to follow the hidden rules.

That means doing things you find repulsive but he finds lovely.

That means kissing him when he comes back. That means letting him do what he wants with your body. That means lying straight to his face when saying you are attracted to him. It will all be worth it in the end, you tell yourself.

You hum, acting like those words that leave his mouth are the things you want to hear the most.

“Those eyes, so grounded yet divine, are the only ones worthy of reverence.” His pale lips twirl upward like a ballet dancer’s arms. “I shall be honored if you choose me to be your apostle.”

“Do you see yourself when you gaze into my eyes, my beloved?”

“I do.” His voice seems breathless, almost drunk, his mind above the clouds and fantasizing about the future. Your eyes are similar to that of a small, round mirror that can reflect light just like the surface of a pond does. 

“I see myself when I look at yours as well,” You sigh with a pseudo impression of an amorous tone. “I suppose we are meant to be together.” Like an elegant ballerina, you relevé. “So, Chrollo…” Your lips are so close to his. Your voice is hushed, calm, and teasing. “I have a favor to ask.” 

His eyes light up with adoration, similar to how Romeo first saw Juliet at the Capulet ball. 

“Ask me for anything you wish for and I shall see to it that it is done.” The hand that is on your back clenches it a bit more.

“I would like to go somewhere tomorrow.” 

“Hm? Where would you like to go?” Chrollo’s tone is now a mix of curiosity and hopefulness. 

“The planetarium.” Your thumb circles his. “That is if you’d like to oblige my request.”

“Of course.” His fingers curl into yours. He smiles as he speaks, his tone soft and sweet. “I’d like to go to the planetarium with you, especially since you have such a desire to go.” There is a twinkle in his eyes.

“Perhaps afterward we can go to a cafe and sit in the park?”

“That sounds like an excellent plan.” He casts you an unfamiliar glance before your lips meet. You start to back away as he lets go of you, and you pick up your glass of water. You take a few sips before setting it back down on the table.

The absence of sound doesn't please you, as the music from the gramophone has ceased and Chrollo seems lost in thought. However, you're not bothered enough to not enjoy the silence. You are envisioning a future of peace, where your captor never finds you again. 

Donned in velvet attire and sipping on tea, you frequent the sandy shores, observing the ebb and flow of the ocean. Undisturbed, you create music with your violin for an audience of one; yourself. A life of uttermost pleasure.

“I shall prepare for tomorrow, then.”

Chrollo nods with a satisfied hum.

“Very well.”

You slink off into the bedroom, grab your purse, and pack the money you had stolen from Chrollo’s jackets and pants. It is not much, but it should be enough to cover travel fees. You also pack more comfortable clothes and shoes to run in. They are clothes you have never worn, so they are the clothes most likely to not be recognized by him.  You lay out a fancier outfit over your purse to hide it. 

Now all there is to do now is wait.

*~*~*~*

“Get in.” 

Your mouth is gagged with a tied scarf and your hands are restrained with handcuffs. There is no warmth in the monster of a man’s tone. There is only an open car door and a forceful push. Later, a slamming sound. 

You are covered in blood, your supervisor’s blood–he tried to use you as a shield against the intruders but was met with a bullet to the head–so much blood. Your dress shirt is as red as a traffic light or a ladybug, though you would prefer the traffic light because you signal to those still dying not to scream anymore, that there was no point in trying to delay the inevitable. There are small pieces of his flesh inside your mouth, you are certain of it considering that you can taste something metallic and flabby. Multiple small, flabby things. Your colleagues’ screams still ring in your ears; they hurt so much.

You can still hear the crunching of their smashed skulls and bones, the alarms, the emergency protocol announcement, the gunshots, the loud severing and ripping of muscle and fat, and–

“Greetings.” A voice, calm and placid. A man sitting beside you, visibly comfortable with one of his legs over the other. He moves his left arm and clicks your seatbelt into place, then does the same with his own. 

A blaring statement outside the car. “Two billion Jenny and she’ll be set free,” one of the thieves said, probably the one that pushed you into the car, “if we aren’t paid by next week she dies.”

“Do not worry.” The man beside you speaks in a lulling tone. “It is simply a ploy. We won’t kill you, I will make sure of it.”

You look down at your legs and shoes, considering what to do or say if the gag is ever taken off. 

A firm grip on your shoulder and a say of your name makes you look at him again. His eyes are filled with nothing but obsession and make your heart stop beating for a split second. “If I take this gag off of you, do you promise not to scream?” 

You nod, because what choice do you have other than being compliant? 

There is a pleased hum and a praise you cannot exactly remember, then the scarf is off and on the floor of the car. 

“I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I?” A warm chuckle. “My name is Chrollo, and… for now, just let me say that we are going to get to know each other quite a bit.”

*~*~*~*

“Stars are such wonders, aren’t they, dearest?”

You give an impressed hum as you look around and sit in your seat beside Chrollo. The room soon goes dark as the public speaker starts talking.

There is a single spotlight on her that is a bright white which contrasts with the pitch-black room. She bows as some of the audience claps, you included. You don’t think Chrollo clapped, though.

“It's been estimated by astronomers that there could be as many as one septillion stars in the universe.” 

“Yet there is only one of you,” Chrollo whispers in your ear.

The announcer speaks with a proud yet modest tone, not being too outward yet not being too quiet to not draw any attention to herself. “The Milky Way galaxy is home to over 100 billion stars, with the Sun being the most well-known.”

You are not the moon above, you aren’t even a star. You are simply a piece of an asteroid, soon to fade to dust in the cold, cruel darkness of space.

You look at him and smile. He smiles back at you.

“The creation of this universe brings me joy, for it has led me to cross paths with you.” The spherical walls light up and turn a dark blue and fill with holographic stars and meteors. “I’m glad.”

“These fiery balls are composed primarily of hydrogen, with traces of helium and other elements.” The speaker continues. “Each star has a unique lifespan, which can vary from millions to trillions of years, and their characteristics shift as they age.”

“The Sun is needed to sustain life in this galaxy, just like how I need you and you need me.”

You hum again and grab his hand gently. “You do not need to hang a legion of stars around yourself to show you are not Neptune, for I already know you are my Sun.”

“Should the sun disappear, the Earth would be devoid of light, warmth, and life.” It is like Chrollo had a vision of the future. “Initially, the planets would follow their orbits for a short while before eventually exiting the solar system. Although the sun's rays would continue to reach us for a brief eight-and-a-half minutes after its disappearance, the world would be plunged into darkness.”

“Within a week, temperatures would plummet to zero degrees Celsius, causing the demise of most flora and fauna.” Chrollo resumes. “As time passes, the atmosphere would also gradually disappear. The Sun is very important if you cannot tell.”

“I concur, beloved.”

“It’s a miracle the Sun’s warmth exists in the first place, or that this planet’s orbit was placed in the perfect environment.” Chrollo sighs peacefully, but you aren’t sure if he is in awe at the planetarium or you. “We wouldn’t have existed if this planet was made in a different area of the universe.”

“It is quite beautiful, isn’t it? Thanks to the Sun, now we have a bright future ahead of us all.”

His hand clasps onto yours. “I make a vow to you that our bond will never break, and we will remain inseparable for eternity.” His mouth is so close you feel like he is about to kiss your ear. “Do not worry about the details, for I shall take care of everything.”

*~*~*~*

There is one mirror. There are two hanging jackets. There are three lights above you. There are four paintings on the wall facing the entrance. Five vases contain your favorite flowers, two on the floor and three on the table. There are six rows of stone bricks, then carpet at the start of the stairs. Seven glass panes make up the decoration above the entryway. There are eight engravings on the locked wooden door, each of a flower or deer. Nine smells are coming from upstairs; garlic, cheese, tomato, onion, poultry, olive oil, butter, pasta, and basil. Let me out. 

It’s dark outside, but the chandelier above provides enough light for you to see that the door is still locked. As much as you want to mask your real feelings from your captor, you have to acknowledge the fact that you cannot breathe. There is a call from upstairs. You put your book down on the sole chair. There are ten steps leading to the second floor. 

There is one staircase leading to the third floor. There are two rooms: the living room and the kitchen. Three footsteps are approaching you. Four words leave Chrollo’s mouth, but you cannot remember them.

You cannot cry. You cannot do anything but smile and hug back. His embrace feels like it is burning your skin. He says something about your beauty. He grabs your hand gently. There are ten steps you take as he guides you to the stove.

There is one pot full of food. There are two plates. Three instruments are playing on the gramophone; violin, piano, and cello. There are four chairs near the kitchen table. There are five books, with one of them being an open cookbook. There are six candles on the table with the lights turned off. There are seven wrapped gifts on the table. There are eight seconds of Chrollo hugging you.

You unwrap the gifts. Matching necklaces with engraved names on them. A gold ring with rubies. A decorated photo of you taken from a Polaroid. A large box of your favorite chocolate. A butterfly pin. A velvet coat with a spider embroidered on the back. Chrollo’s smile almost makes you shudder.

There is one chair you sit in. There are two utensils before you; a fork and a knife. There are thoughts in your mind for three seconds; fantasizing about you stabbing him. There are four seconds of temptation before you ignore it. There are five seconds of silence before you say you love Chrollo. Gifts are celebrating six months of you being held captive. There are seven roses in the vase in the middle of the candles. There are eight bites you take of your food, and then force yourself to eat the rest through your nauseousness. 

Let me out.

*~*~*~*

The nutty smell of coffee brings you a feeling of slight warmth and relaxation. The chalkboard above the barista reads Carte Du Jour with white words, listing off the assortment of pastries, coffees, teas, and fruit-flavored drinks. Chrollo is ordering for you two, spending what feels like an unnecessary amount of Jenny on pumpkin muffins, chocolate croissants, and two espressos. The barista audibly gasped when he gave her a tip that can best be described as more than what she would make in a week. 

The two of you soon make your way to this city’s largest park and sit on a bench away from most people. There is a musician loudly playing clarinet nearby, but he is not close enough for you two to see him, and he is too invested in playing his instrument to notice anyone. The sun is well above the pond, making the ducks swimming in it almost glow. Chrollo is still holding the paper bag full of the pastries and his espresso, but you are holding yours in your hand.

He is still, visibly calm, and enjoying the sight.

You feel an invisible pressure on your neck. It’s just a knot in my throat, you think to yourself, closing your eyes. The sight of his stillness gifts you a veil of comfort so thin that if anyone were to touch it it would tear. I’m not going to die. But you can’t breathe.

Your heart tells you otherwise. You can feel, no, hear blood pulse to the very tips of your fingers. Your feet tell you otherwise. They are cold. They hurt. They are adhered to the ground. Your arms and legs tell you otherwise. There is nothing but pins and needles all over. This is your chance, the little voice in your head says with blind reassurance. Who knows when you will ever get this chance again? Do it now, and be quick about it. But you can’t breathe. You can’t breathe, and you have to try your hardest to stop the hand holding your espresso from shaking and falling on you. 

“Thank you for taking me here,” You smile the best you can, as usual. You try to not focus on your memories of Chrollo’s observation skills. “You made my day. This is one of the best experiences I have had in a while.”

There is sweat going down your forehead. Chrollo nods his head and smiles. You’re afraid, and you never are afraid. His head leans forward until your noses are barely touching. 

He is so close you can smell the mint in his mouth. 

“Of course, my dear. It is an honor to have you in my life, after all.”

“I… would say the same.”

He lifts his head slightly. “Spending time with you is always a pleasure. I would commit the gravest sins if it meant having moments like this forever.” You know that he is being literal. That is the reason you nearly shudder.

He is leaning in closer. You want to run. You have to run.

He backs away after kissing you, and that is when you strike.

You throw your espresso on him, its lid on the bench. You don’t focus on his reaction, because you are running as fast as you can with your purse.

You toss your heels to the side of an unknown road when your feet start to bleed. 

You change clothes in a rat-infested public restroom. You throw everything aside from your stolen money into a nearby lake in fear of a tracking device being on something. You cover the wounds on your feet with toilet paper and then put on sneakers. 

You put your hair up in a bun and cover it with a hood.

You wash your makeup off using lake water.

You soon get on a bus. Then another.

You then eventually take a train. For nearly three days you stay, hardly eating out of fear of vomiting due to nervousness. You walk the rest on foot until you have reached somewhere far, far away from that city. 

You steal money from those around you when needed. You threaten those around you when needed, threatening them to stay silent or their fate will end at your hands. You make use of a few kind-hearted people who let you into their homes when they see you, dirty and injured on the side of the road. They clean up your wounds, give you warm food, and you repay them with a simple, untrusting, and cold goodbye and leave without a trace. 

You move from place to place every few hours.

Then you move from place to place every few days.

Eventually, you move from place to place every few months. You ultimately settle into a town by the seashore, under a fake alias. You move into a cabin by the beach with no warmth other than a few candles and no entertainment other than books or writing. You eat the cheapest food the local saloon sells that day. 

The day you escaped was 1996, May 9th.

It is now 1997, August 3rd.

*~*~*~*

The speakers blare a sound akin to ambulance sirens. A man’s voice soon after, panicky and horrified. 

He spoke of evacuating as soon as possible through the emergency exits. An infamous terrorist group is in the building, he said. Then the sound of a gunshot, cries for mercy, then another voice. 

“Run, rabbits.” Whoever was speaking had confidence and arrogance. 

Your supervisor stands up from his desk and his guards pull out their guns. You look around for a way out. Screams from outside the office. Flesh being ripped apart. The evacuation door was locked, as much as you and the guards pushed and pulled. 

The main door was kicked open by a man taller than any you have seen, ripped apart by its hinges, and fell on the floor. The guards shot at him, but they reflected off of him like he was made of iron. He was fast, fast enough to smash their brains in with his mere fists. He laughed loudly, amused. Your supervisor grabbed you by your hair and put you in a chokehold. 

A gun was put to your head.

He threatened to shoot you. The threat was met with a gunshot behind his head, his body falling on top of you as he cried out for mercy, and his blood covering you from head to toe as someone dressed in black slashed his body again and again. 

You put your hands up and close your eyes, expecting the same fate as you hear his corpse falling off of you with a loud thud.

…

Instead, your wrists were grabbed and put in handcuffs. A hand on your shoulder and a pat.

“We can’t have damaged goods. You have been chosen to live… at least for now. Congrats.”

A push that blurred between light and strong. A walk out the office doors and to the elevator. A thumb pressing the down button. The elevator doors opened with an automated voice saying going down. Another button is being pressed, the doors closing, and jazz is playing.

One of them, the swordsman, asked how people working (or worked, really) could wait for an elevator every day to go to the top floor, saying how boring that would be if it was him. You cannot tell if he was joking with you or was genuinely curious. The elevator slowly goes down, the light at the top of the button selection decreasing from seventy to one. The doors open. Another push.

A walk out to the lobby.

“Oh, do you guys think that the pocket change from that dude will be enough to buy some snacks from the vending machines? I’m pretty hungry right now. Do you guys think so?”

A woman with magenta hair rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You are such a child, Uvo. You want to get snacks, now?”

Another scoff in response. “Hunger is part of the everyday human experience. Don’t think you are so above it, Machi.”

“Fine.” The swordsman speaks, clearly annoyed. He looks at you with a neutral expression. “Take her to the car and Feitan and I will get you snacks, my treat.”

The man wearing all black rolls his eyes.

“I never agreed to that.” He shakes his half-masked head. “I am also not hungry. We can also get food elsewhere. Vending machine food is expensive. Waste of money.”

Machi rolls her eyes in turn.

“Everyone is dead already.”

You are closing your eyes and imagining being somewhere else, anywhere else than here. A cafe. A ballet. Anywhere but here.

“I’m hungry.”

The swordsman punches him in the arm.

“Ow, Nobu!”

…

A man crawls on his arms towards you all, his legs ripped off. He cries out and curses as he coughs up blood. Curses for their family. Curses for eternal damnation. They are quickly snuffed out by Uvo’s punch and brain matter splatters all over the lobby floor.

Then silence.

The man called Nobu sighs, visibly exhausted. He looks at Uvo like he is two years old. He asks Uvo what snacks he wants. He responds with something meaty or cheesy, like jerky or something. An alright leaves Nobu’s thin lips and he asks you where the vending machines are.

You feel like you are about to soil yourself. Why the hell are they acting so normal after killing an entire building full of people? But with a shaky voice, you tell him that it should be on the 61st floor because that is where all the workers go to eat lunch. 

A damn it leaves his mouth then, and another roll of his eyes. But he thanks you, and he and Feitan go back to the elevators. 

Uvo and Machi stare at you. 

“Listen,” Machi finally talks to you. She tries to smile, but it doesn’t bring you any comfort. If anything, you feel like you are about to cry more at the sight. She puts her hand on your shoulder. “We don’t want to hurt you. Far from it, if that helps.”

It doesn’t. You just look down at your feet. 

A sigh. Another push.

“You could have tried to be more gentle, Uvo. Now she’s scared of all of us. What’s the boss gonna think?”

You stare at them. They glare at each other.

“Machi, she’s supposed to be our hostage, at least to the public eye.” He looks at the receptionist's desk, where the receptionist’s corpse lays, her neck bent to an acute angle. You look around for any possible escape route. You see one. The main entrance. 

You run fast. Until you are outside. Uvo’s arm wraps around your waist and pulls you back.

“Listen. We do not want to hurt you. But we have to at least seem like we are rough handling you.” His hands go on your shoulders and make you walk towards a foreign black car. “Sorry. But it’s for the best. I  promise.”

“Just put this on.” She wraps a scarf around your mouth, gagging you. 

“Hey, you’ll have a good life from now on. Trust us with that, at least. You’ll be happier now.”

Uvo pushes you, hard, when he sees police cars approaching. He opens the car door. A malicious smile appears on his face, like a mask he has just put on.

“Get in.”

You hope that whatever is in store for you isn’t as bad as what your colleagues suffered.

*~*~*~*

There is a man around your age who goes out around the same time as you to smoke by the beach.

He has dark hair with a slight purple tint, making you assume that it is dyed. It looks long and it is swept to the side, except for a quarter of it which is shaved. He has near-black eyes, but they don’t look as intimidating as Chrollo’s. If anything, they look slightly sorrowful. 

You go on the fishing dock as usual with a box of cigarettes and a lighter in your sweater pocket. The man is there, searching his own pockets and visibly frustrated.

“Do you want one of mine?”

He looks up at you. His eyes wander from your face downward towards your extended hand which holds an unlit cigarette. He doesn’t answer and just stares at it.

“I noticed you are looking in your pockets for one.” You smile, but as you usually do with fake kindness, not caring enough about him to get too close.

“I…” His eyes squint, slightly suspicious. Perhaps it takes a moment or two for him to realize you are talking to him. “Yes, thanks.”

“Hmm. You’re welcome.” You hand him the cigarette and you take another one out for you. You put it in your mouth as you pull out your lighter from your sweatpant pocket. “So, what is your name?”

He doesn’t answer, because he is looking in his hoodie pocket again.

“Damn it.”

You extend your lighter out to him. “Do you need a lighter?” He takes it. “You sure are forgetful tonight, huh?”

He presses the ignition button and orange flames arise. The end of his cigarette turns a yam orange. He hands your lighter back to you.

You do the same with yours. You then put the lighter back in your sweatpants pocket.

You inhale the puff of smoke that enters your mouth, an ash gray. You take the cigarette out of your mouth with two fingers and exhale. You then look back at the man, who just did the same thing.

“Thanks for the help.”

You smile.

“Of course.”

“I don’t think I have seen you before so you must be the one that just moved in, right?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Cool. Out of all the places you could have gone, you chose this town.” He raises an eyebrow, visibly curious. “May I ask why?”

You fix your eyes on him, taking a few moments to process the unexpected nature of his question. He inhales his cigarette again and breathes out the smoke. 

“This town seems quaint.” You finally answer. “The locals are nice, the expenses aren’t that much, and the scenery is alluring.”

You use your cigarette again and use your other sweatpants pocket to fish out your portable cassette player along with your headphones. You then realize that you had forgotten your music tape at your house. You sigh and then put it back into your pocket. Footsteps get your attention and you see the stranger approaching the shoreline. He bends down and picks up a small rock. He throws it to the sea and it bounces; one, two, three, four.

It then sinks beneath the waves, and the man mutters something under his breath. “Should have been more.”

You take a few steps towards him.

“What is your name?”

“Sebaste.” His tone isn’t warm, but it’s not cold either.

You stare at each other for a few moments in awkward silence. Your tone is just as strange as his as you say, “My name is [First]. A pleasure to meet you.” You place your lit cigarette on the pier and stomp on it until it goes out. “Have you lived here your whole life?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Do you live with a family member?” You’re not sure where this question came from, but you are for sure more interested in him than you realize. He turns his back to you.

“Yeah.”

You look out into the deep and dark sea.

“I don’t have any family here.”

“Mmhmm.”

His voice is slightly dismissive, but you don’t think he means to be.

“It must be nice, having people you can rely on.”

He looks at you again, but you cannot tell what he feels.

You don’t look at each other after that. You look down at the items that line the beach instead. Even though they are indeed damaged, they feel more like treasures than whatever expensive gifts Chrollo gave you.

There are mostly large shells that are still vibrant despite it being nighttime as well as being covered in sand. They look like fragments of a broken rainbow when the moon’s light reflects in just the right areas. You have contemplated bringing one home and stringing it into a necklace. 

Sebaste takes his cigarette out of his mouth and points out to the ocean. There is no sound aside from the waves and occasional seagull calls. His two fingers trace the stars beyond the horizon. 

He says there is a constellation called the Hydra. According to Sebaste, during summer, the season of rebirth and peace, the Hydra constellation appears as a reminder of assured death to those below it, whatever arrogance mortals may have had disappearing in an instant. Their fates loom over them like the blade of a guillotine, knowing their hearts shall stop working eventually, the color of crimson fading like flowers in autumn. Memento mori, you suppose.

“You sure know a lot about nature.” You say.

“It’s interesting, but it’s not what I mainly like learning about.” He throws another stone into the sea. One, two, three, four, five. He throws his cigarette out into the ocean and watches the flame die out. “I’m mostly just coding on my desktop. That,” He lightly chuckles. “And playing games. Video games and board games, as well as comics. They are fun.”

You don’t know anything about those either, even more so than nature. “That’s nice. I… don’t know anything about those. They seem cool, though.”

He chuckles at that. You do too.

He turns to you and takes a few steps forward.

He says that that seemed sort of obvious considering how upright your posture is, and how polite you speak. He offers to play games with you sometime and lend you comics. He walks you to your house and says a warm goodbye.

Although the certainness of seeing each other again is unknown, this fleeting encounter holds a remarkable significance, because you don’t feel as alone as you usually do.

You don’t feel alone. It is a strange feeling.

*~*~*~*

You wanted to watch Sleeping Beauty.

“Beautiful.”

Chrollo wanted to watch The Nutcracker.

“Just beautiful.”

The dancers’ feet move with grace and precision as the orchestra plays. Green, yellow, and pink dancers. You let Chrollo have his way with which performance tickets to buy because you didn’t want to fight and lose all of your progress.

“Don’t you think so, dearest?”

You look from your compact mirror to him, your lipstick still in hand.

“Yes.”

Chrollo seems to be smiling, but you cannot tell because of how dark the theater is. It’s a miracle you can see your lips in your compact mirror.

“I spot something even more beautiful, however.”

You almost want to shudder as his hand reaches the one carrying your mirror. He closes the reflector gently. You are thankful for how dark the theater is now because it hides whatever lovesick expression he is wearing. He is the one paying attention to the ballet, while you daydream of being anywhere else.

There is a light chuckle. A light squeeze. A light whisper of a compliment you pretend to listen to. 

“So beautiful.”

…

“Thank you for taking me.”

It’s Christmas Eve. A fur coat covers you and keeps you warm. It is snowing, and the sight makes you slightly less nervous. 

You and Chrollo are walking out of the theater. Hand in hand. As much as you want to break away. Your captor soon opens the car door, and you sit down.

He goes to the driver’s side and sits down too.

The car soon drives away onto the salted road. 

“I had fun.” You try your best to smile. “I did.” You look out the window to the snow-covered, dead trees, as well as the reflection of your red dress and white coat.

Chrollo grins as he turns the steering wheel left. After a few moments, the car stops. “Wait here for a moment. I will be back in a few minutes.”

With that, he steps out of the car and leaves the key with you to make sure the alarm does not go off. 

He makes sure you lock the doors before walking away.

You don’t dare go sit on the driver’s side. You don’t dare touch the steering wheel or press on the gas.

You just sit with your thoughts until he eventually returns, and you unlock the car.

“I have something for you,” His voice is almost cooing, but is laced with honey. There is a large box in his hands.

He extends his arms out and you take it. He sits back down and closes the car door. 

“Open it,” He croons. You pull on the tied ribbon until the knot is undone. You take off the box’s lid. Macarons. Colorful macarons, all spread apart within the box just enough for people to see their fillings. Green, yellow, pink. But there are also a few white ones in the center with red filling. 

You thank him and he tells you the flavors. The green ones are pistachio, symbolizing good fortune in the years ahead. The yellow ones are champagne, symbolizing joy and celebration. The pink ones are flavored strawberry, symbolizing life. 

There is a nefarious twinkle in his eyes as he points to the white ones. The cookies are vanilla with a cherry filling. 

They symbolize renewal and love.

He says that the macarons illustrate your relationship well.

You agree, because what else is there to say?

*~*~*~*

Sebaste invited you to a summer night on the shoreline. He said there was something special going on tonight. 

Most of the townspeople are by the fisherman’s shop, overlooking the pier. They bring lanterns and are huddled together in their sweaters. Knowing Sebaste, he has probably gone somewhere more remote on the beach.

You are right. He is sitting on a picnic blanket with a few takeout boxes of food. He welcomes you with a grin as you sit down with him. There is sashimi, cheese-covered cauliflower, and fried calamari.

There is something behind him. But you don’t ask about it.

Sebaste is a rebellious loner, from what you have come to know from both the townspeople and himself.

He hardly has anyone over because of how judgmental his stepfather can be. He often fights with his stepfather and half-sister, and as a result, was forced to live in the basement as per his mother’s wishes to not cause any more problems. He loves his mother, he does, you can tell. She seems to love him too.

His room is often full of takeout boxes and used cigarettes, as well as video and board games and his desktop. The couch in his room always has comics and food stains on it. But you sit on it anyway to wait for him to finish his work before talking to you about whatever interest he currently is fixated on.

You sit on the picnic blanket and face the shoreline, your dirndl moving slightly with the wind. Your boots are covered in sand, but they are the only ones you have that will keep you warm while keeping the sand out of the inside of them. It’s just you, Sebaste, and the ocean.

Sebaste isn’t smoking for once, and neither are you.

You both agreed to focus on the ocean instead.

Sebaste gets a bit closer by scooting over. He is smiling gently, a smile you know hardly anyone else has seen. He takes a rock and throws it into the water, making it skip. One, two, three, four, five, six. He cheers quietly at his accomplishment, and you do too.

He looks at you.

He looks at your left hand that rests beside his right one. He moves just a hair closer. He clears his throat when you make eye contact. His pale cheeks are a slight pink.

“I…” he starts as his face turns away from you. His voice is a bit jittery. “I think I like you. Romantically.”

Does he mean it? His body language is slightly tense and his shoulders are uptight. His left hand comes out from hiding behind his back as he shows you a bouquet. There are blue thistles, purple sweet peas, and orange poppies.

He waits for a response as he turns to you again, visibly nervous.

*~*~*~*

You continue to try to pull away, but your efforts are unsuccessful.

Chrollo seems somewhat amused at your struggles, though he still doesn't force you to stop moving against his grasp.

"You're acting in a very ungrateful manner, my dear. I've given you this beautiful home and life that you couldn't even dream of on your own. You should be happy and thankful for what you've been given, not trying to escape from it. This is what love is. You are too young and immature to understand that, it seems."

"Love? Do you call this love? You're insane! Let me go!" Your eyes fill with tears as you try to pull away, and your voice breaks as you speak. "You're insane! You're insane and sick and disgusting! You're... you're..."

Chrollo still doesn't force you to stop trying to escape, and he doesn't raise his voice or grow angrier at your words. He just waits patiently.

"Monster... Disgusting... Sick freak... Monster..." Your voice is shaky as you continue to speak, and your eyes are filled with tears. "How can you justify this? What was wrong with my life before you? Why did you have to destroy everything? Why do you enjoy hurting me?" You yell and cry out, still trying to pull away, even though you don't seem to be hurting him.

Chrollo, once again, doesn't seem to be bothered by your words. As the alarm goes off, signaling your time out of restraints, he turns it off and drags you to the bedroom once again. Something tells you that you won’t be sleeping much tonight, less so than usual.

*~*~*~*

“Ah. I… like you too.”

“Really?”

You give him a genuine smile as you nod. “Yes.”

He smiles at that as his posture becomes more relaxed. You take the bouquet from him and set it beside your small backpack. Sebaste seems unsure for a second, most likely thinking that you have misunderstood his question. He thinks for a second or two as his face becomes laced with slight worry. You smile again as you take his hand gently. His face becomes bright red and you chuckle at the sight. He does too, but quieter.

His fingers then intertwine with yours.

He doesn’t smell of cigarettes like he normally does. You assume he put on cologne. Refreshing, sweet, and crisp. Pine cologne, with a hint of citrus. 

He bashfully giggles a bit more. He puts his free hand on the back of his neck.

“Does… this mean we are… dating now? Or is this just a fling or…”

Your grip on his hand tightens slightly. You both seem giddy. This is the first time either of you has felt this way. You seem to have sparked something in each other.

“If you want to, we can start dating.”

“Oh? You… actually like me?”

He seems confused or doubtful as to why you feel the way you do for him.

“Yes, I do. I like you. Would you like me to enumerate the reasons why?”

He looks unsure of it all like you will stab him in his back at any moment.

“You’re kind to those who are kind back. You’re willing to do anything for those you trust. When you trust, you trust wholeheartedly. You have interesting hobbies.”

Sebaste chuckles again. “So, beating you within six turns of Go Fish and collecting frogs covered in mud is interesting to you, huh?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as unique as you. I mean that most positively and genuinely. Well, what do you like about me then? I’m curious.”

“Everything about you. The way you walk and talk, your hobbies, the way you present yourself. Everything about you is just so alluring and admirable. You are everything I am not.”

“I suppose we always love what we cannot have ourselves. Opposites attract, after all.”

He nods. 

The ocean starts to glow a bright blue. You look at it confused, with one of your eyebrows raised.

Sebaste giggles once more at your lack of knowledge of what is happening. “Every year, right before summer ends, jellyfish rise to the surface of the shore and glimmer.”

You’re too awed at the sight to put it into words. “Thank you for inviting me, I didn’t know about it. It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. Beautiful.” He looks at you instead of the ocean.

*~*~*~*

You take a deep breath. You’ve come to pay what’s owed.

You knock on the door and wait for a response. After a moment, you hear footsteps approaching the door.

It opens and James is standing there. When he recognizes you, his face turns into one of triumph.

“Hmm, so you have come. Just like you promised,” he says to you in a voice a mix of arrogance and gratefulness.

“Yes. The… night you wanted.”

James’ expression changes to a wide grin. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” He says to you with a chuckle, stepping aside to let you into his apartment. “Come in, come in.”

He steps aside and motions for you to enter, closing the door behind you. It is for the greater good, you tell yourself. To get information out of James, you need to make him believe that you are interested in him.

James is very happy that you kept your word. He’s smiling widely.

“Come in, I told you that I would host a special evening for you,” He says to you, sounding sincere and eager to please. He takes your hand and leads you inside the apartment. “I have a surprise for you,” He says to you, leading you deeper into the apartment.

You have to play the part of the seductress to the best of your ability.

“What is it?”

The usual city apartment, it looks like. Messy and full of mildew from the floor to the ceiling. By the only non-musty window there is a plastic up on the ground with drops of water coming down into it from the ceiling. Drip, drip, drip. You can only hear the drips of water and you and James’ footsteps. You cannot feel your true emotions, because you have a job to do.

James brings you to the only lit room in the apartment; the dining area. The circular table seems to be made of poplar and has a dark stain in the center of it. There is a vase of dark red roses on the top, clearly just bought. The chair you sit in is squeaky and is also made of poplar. James is staring at you. You can only hear the dripping of water, the squeakiness of the chair, the broken air conditioner, and James’ chuckles. Drip, drip, drip. James is still smiling, and staring like you are a piece of meat. You suppose you are, at least to him and at least at the moment. You smell cigarette smoke and spoiled food. You lean down to smell the roses, but you cannot smell them because the foul stink of the rest of the apartment is so much stronger. You pretend to anyway, a pleased hum leaving your painted lips. His eyes are wide and unblinking. Another chuckle, and another drip, drip, drip. His smile widens even more as he looks at you.

“Close your eyes,” He says to you in a soft, commanding tone. “I have a surprise for you,” He adds. “I want it to be a surprise. Keep your eyes closed.” He pauses for a moment, waiting for you to close your eyes.

You cover your eyes with your hands. 

“That’s good, that’s good,” James’ smug voice says. “Just wait one minute.”

You hear his footsteps on the creaky floorboards quieting, making you assume he has gone elsewhere. You hear a cupboard opening and closing along with glasses clinking. 

“Now, remove your hands from your eyes,” James says.

You do as you’re told and remove your hands from your eyes. James smiles at you, revealing the surprise that he had promised. On the table in front of you are two wine glasses and a bottle of expensive red wine. Cabernet. "This is my special surprise for you," He says to you, still sounding sincere and excited. James pours both of you a glass of wine and places one of them in front of you. He then raises his glass and holds it up in your direction. He smiles at you charmingly and says, "To you, [First]. And to your beauty."

You smile at James and cheer with him, raising your glass and taking a sip of the expensive red wine that he's poured for you.

James smiles at you, still looking charming and sincere. "Tell me," He says to you, "What do you think of the wine?" He takes a sip himself, smiling as he savors the taste. "I always buy the best when I entertain a guest as lovely as yourself," He says to you with a wink.

“It’s good. But… I feel like it won’t compare to you.” You wink back at him.

James smiles and takes another sip of the expensive red wine that he's poured for you. He seems to like your subtle flirtation, as if it's having the desired effect. "Oh, don't worry," He says to you with a charming smile. "I've been looking forward to this night all night. You're just as wonderful and beautiful as I remember," He adds. "I can hardly wait to spend some time alone with you."

James takes another sip of the wine and continues to stare at you, still smiling.

“Am I as beautiful as you say?” You blink your long lashes at James, your eyes gazing into his with a gentle but seductive expression. Your hair is loose, gently framing your face, and you look ravishing.

"Of course," James says to you with a smile as he gazes back at you. He reaches out a hand and gently strokes a streak of your hair, letting it fall back into place after it has been gently moved by the gesture. "You're the most lovely woman I've ever seen," He says to you confidently.

“What do you like about me?”

"Every inch of you," James replies, still stroking your hair with a smile on his face. "From your eyes to your long lashes, your hair, your skin..." James pauses, looking into your eyes for a moment. "To your soft lips, your small, delicate hands," He adds, still stroking your hair lightly. He looks at you with a charming and passionate gaze, as if he can't get enough of your beauty.

“...Would you like me to kiss you? It would be our first.”

James looks delighted by your proposition and nods slowly, in response. He finishes stroking your hair with one last, gentle touch and gazes at you once more. "Of course," He murmurs, his voice softer and more passionate than before. He pauses for a moment before taking the initiative and leaning forward to kiss you slowly and softly. His lips press gently against yours, and he holds you close as he pulls you into a gentle, intimate kiss.

Drip, drip, drip.

It’s for the greater good, right?

You kiss back and return James' affection, feeling the heat of passion slowly build as the two of you kiss. You hold him close and slowly pull him towards you. The kiss is soft and tender, and although it is a rather chaste kiss, it leaves you breathless and feeling dizzy. After a few moments, you both come up for air to breathe, and James looks at you with a warm and sincere smile. 

"You're a wonderful kisser," He says to you softly. "I've always imagined it would be like this..."

At any cost, the greater good must come first.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?”

"Yes," James replies with a nod. "Let's go to the bedroom," He adds. "I can't wait to be alone with you." He takes your hand in his and leads you out of the dining area and into a small bedroom. You enter the bedroom and see a large, comfortable bed in the center of the room, with the moon shining through the window. James closes the door behind you and leads you closer to the bed.

You sit on the bed and open your arms. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

James smiles at you and steps towards you slowly. He takes off his jacket and throws it on a chair next to the door. He then comes closer to you and smiles, leaning forward to kiss you passionately. His arms are wrapped around you, and his body is pressed against yours. He begins to kiss you deeply and passionately, his lips lingering on yours for long moments.

James continues to kiss you, and as he does so, his hands begin to explore your body. He lets his fingers run down your arms, leaving soft, tender trails of affection on your skin. As his lips move to your neck, he begins to bite it softly. He starts to explore and taste every inch of your skin, leaving small marks of affection. You feel a jolt of passion and desire course through your body as you feel James' lips pressed against your neck and his teeth lightly biting you. As he continues to kiss and nibble your neck, he begins to breathe more heavily.

You pretend to groan and moan as James continues to kiss and nibble your neck. You lean your head back and close your eyes, trying to appear lost in pleasure. You feel his lips move down your neck, leaving little, soft bruises of passion. You let out another soft moan as he continued to kiss your neck, nibbling your skin and letting his teeth leave marks of affection.

"Do you like that?" He whispers to you, his voice deep and passionate. "More?" He asks, sounding breathless and eager.

Drip, drip, drip.

“More.”

James chuckles softly before moving his lips back down towards your neck once again. He bites your neck and kisses it again, this time leaving more marks of affection. You pretend to moan in pleasure once again, feeling James' breath against your neck.

"How does that feel, dear?" His voice is low and seductive. "More?" He asks gently, biting your neck once again.

“I want you to touch me all over.”

James pauses for a moment, his green eyes looking at you with a charming and seductive expression. He smiles at you, and you notice his eyes are filled with desire. "I want to touch you also," He says to you softly. His hand gently touches your cheek and strokes your hair. "Please, let me explore you," He whispers seductively. He moves towards you and gently pulls you towards him, kissing you softly before moving his hands towards your body.

As you feel James' hands start to take off your clothes, you begin to feel some of the passion and desire that James had shown before fade away. But as James continues to take off your clothes, you start to feel the heat of passion and excitement come back.

James seems intent on savoring and enjoying every moment of this moment with you, every moment of intimacy and passion. He slowly undresses you, taking off each piece of your clothing, as if you were the most precious and beautiful thing in the world. His touch is gentle, and his eyes are filled with desire.

Drip, drip, drip.

“Touch me, touch me everywhere, for your lips worship me.”

James pauses as he hears you speaking. He gazes at you for a moment, his face filled with a mix of passion and desire, as your words have left a deep impression on him.

"Oh, my love," He says to you softly. "My lips worship you," He adds, leaning forward to kiss you again.

His hands begin to run over your body, caressing you in all the right places. His fingers trace soft arcs over your skin, leaving trails of affection and passion wherever they go.

…

You find yourself standing in the middle of a large and eerie graveyard. The sky above you is dark and cloudy, with little sunlight filtering through the clouds. You take out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, lighting up a cigarette and taking a few puffs. As you lean against a gravestone, you see a figure standing in the corner of the graveyard, just watching you. You can't quite make out who it is, the figure looks like a shadowy silhouette, but you can see the orange glow of a cigarette in their hand as well.

It’s James.

As you take another puff from your cigarette, you see James stepping closer to you, his figure now becoming slightly more visible in the dim light. 

"Hello, [First]," He says quietly, the tone of his voice hinting at a slight twinge of concern for you. He takes a drag from his cigarette, his expression still difficult to make out in the shadowy light. "How are you feeling?" He asks, looking at you with a sense of curiosity in his voice.

“I see you kept your word.”

"Of course," James says, taking a soft puff from his cigarette. "I promised you, didn't I? I'm not one to go back on my word."

You notice James looking at your cigarette, seemingly a bit tempted by it.

"Can I have a puff?" He asks, looking at you with a tiny hint of a hopeful expression on his face. "I've been craving another cigarette for a while now."

James quickly steps forward, seemingly going in for a kiss, but you quickly duck out of the way and move away from him. He stops in his tracks, not wanting to make any sudden movements or startle you. However, he still looks at you with a tinge of frustration and disappointment on his face.

"You don't want to do anything with me, do you?" He asks as the light from his cigarette illuminates his expression for a moment. "Am I just not good enough for you, is that it?" He adds.

You keep your attention on your cigarette, ignoring James' frustrated expression and question as you take another puff. After a few moments of complete silence, James finally breaks the silence once again. 

"I knew you were like this," He says, his voice filled with resentment and anger. "I've always known you were like this," He adds, moving closer to you once again. "And yet, I still fell for you like an idiot." He pauses for a moment and takes a drag from his cigarette. "You're just... so damn tempting," He adds.

“...Hmm. It’s my specialty.” 

"Yeah, yeah, I know," James says, seeming slightly irritated. He takes another puff from his cigarette, the orange glow on it making his eyes seem brighter than usual in the dark. "You know, that was the reason I was attracted to you in the first place." He adds, his tone becoming a bit quieter. "Your specialty of seducing men... and women." This time, there was a subtle twinge of sadness in his voice. "You're just too damn gorgeous to resist, I guess." He adds.

“...It has its benefits. I don’t hate you, just so you know.”

It seems like James still hasn't given up in his attempts to kiss you, despite your repeated refusal earlier. He moves in towards you once again and leans in close to your face, his expression becoming a bit more excited and hopeful. That's when you see his gaze locked in on your lips, and you realize his next move before he even makes it. You quickly duck away from him, moving out of the way just in time to avoid his lips.

"I told you, stop." You say firmly, not wanting to give him another chance to kiss you. “It was a one-night stand. That’s all it was, and… it was for my matters.”

"Yeah, yeah, I know," James sighs, his tone becoming somewhat frustrated once again. He takes another drag from his cigarette, the light from it illuminating his face for a moment as he looks straight at you. "It was just a one-night stand," He echoes, seemingly to himself. "But... for some reason." He pauses for a moment and looks at you with slight confusion. "I still have feelings for you," He finally says. "Even though I know it's stupid to feel this way..." He adds quietly.

“It was just something I had to do.”

James seems to pause for a moment as your words sink in.

"What?" He asks, seeming slightly confused. "Do you mean... you had to sleep with me as part of an investigation or something?" He asks. "Or were you not attracted to me?" He adds. "You felt like you had to sleep with me, even though you didn't want to?" He stops for a moment to take a few more puffs from his cigarette, the light from it glowing orange in the dark. "Is that... what are you saying?" He asks.

You take a soft puff from your cigarette as James continues to look at you with a slightly frustrated expression on his face.

"I want the truth, [First]." He says, sounding more serious this time. "I want to know why you slept with me..." He takes a final puff from his cigarette before looking at you once again. "Was it because you were attracted to me? Or was it because you felt like you needed to sleep with me for some other reason?" He asks, his tone becoming a bit quieter again.

“...I suspected you of something.”

"A suspect, huh?" James says, sounding only slightly confused. "So this was all part of some elaborate plan to figure out who I was?" He pauses for a moment as he thinks about your words, taking another drag from his cigarette before speaking up again. "Was... Was I really that suspicious, [First]?" He asks. He seems slightly hurt by your words but still manages to hold on to his composure as he looks at you with a bit of apprehension.

“...You were. You drove me five hours to that seaside town without a second thought, even though your guard shift at that hotel had just ended. I had to know if you had other motives… aside from sleeping with me.”

"I guess that makes sense," James says quietly. "So, that's why you decided to sleep with me..." He adds, taking another drag from his cigarette before speaking once again. "Is that it?" He says, his tone sounding slightly less annoyed now. "You just wanted to gather information on me, and nothing else?" He asks. "Did you like, not enjoy your time with me in the slightest?" He adds with a tiny hint of disappointment.

You take a deep puff from your cigarette, the smoke rising upwards into the air before mixing with the gloomy clouds floating above. You can see James looking at you with a bit of disappointment on his face, but you just keep silent.

After a few moments of quiet contemplation, James finally speaks again.

"So, that's it, huh?" He says quietly, his tone becoming somewhat resigned. "You just... slept with me for information and nothing else." He takes another drag from his cigarette, the orange glow from the tip illuminating his face in the darkness.

“...That’s correct.”

"So... you don't like me?" He asks, turning to you with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "It was just... part of the job?" He adds. He takes another puff from his cigarette, his eyes moving back to looking at the clouds above. "Is there nothing else you like about me?" He asks softly, turning to you once again. "Not even a little bit?" You can see James' expression change, his heart is affected by your words. "Please don't be silent again," He adds quietly.

“…You aren’t useful to me anymore, so from this point forward you will not see me again.”

"Not useful to you, huh?" He says softly, sounding a bit hurt by your words. "So... now that you got what you needed, you're just gonna toss me out like a piece of trash?" He asks with a tinge of bitterness in his voice. "What happened to the [First] I thought I knew?" He says, sounding slightly frustrated. "Don't you feel at least a little bit bad?" He adds. "Even a tiny bit?" He takes another small puff from his cigarette before looking at you again with mild concern.

You start to lean away from him before he suddenly grabs you and pulls you towards him, the two of you now face to face. James then places his hand behind the back of your head and leans forward, trying to kiss you once again. Before you can get out of his grasp, he kisses you forcefully, pressing his lips against yours for a few moments as he tries to make you kiss back. Once James is done, he lets go of you, his expression still filled with passion and determination.

"Well?" He asks, sounding a little annoyed. "Where's your response?"

“...You know,” You throw your cigarette to the ground and step on it roughly, making a loud footfall noise as you squish it against the cobblestone. “I was going to let you go on with your life as I found no ties to the Spider.” Your hands go into your trench coat pocket. “But now you have forced my hand. Most unfortunate.”

James takes a moment to process what you had just said. “W… What?” He looks confused and panicked. “What do you mean by that?”

You display a smile, yet it lacks any semblance of kindness. 

“The Phantom Troupe? You’re… a part of the Phantom Troupe?” The man takes a few steps back in fear, a stark contrast to how he was just a few moments ago.

“No.” You say firmly. You hear James sigh in relief. 

“Thank God.”

“But,” You add, taking a few steps closer and still having that grin. “I promise you that soon, you will realize what I mean. Very soon, indeed.”

James laughs loudly and arrogantly like a crow’s caw. “You’re going to kill me?” He takes a few steps closer as well and crosses his arms, smirking. “Sweetheart, I don’t think you can even touch me.”

“Never say never.” With a smile on your face, you glance back while making your way towards the graveyard's exit. 

James angrily yells at you to come back, but you don’t listen and soon you are gone.

He better prepare himself for death while he still can.

…

You broke into James’ neighbor’s apartment.

Victor, you found out later, was his name. Not that it mattered much. He was reading a book, Crime and Punishment, on his couch and facing away from the entrance. He didn’t have any instinctual gut feelings that someone was in his home, standing above him with a blindfold, ropes, and a scarf. He had good taste in books, at least.

“Greetings,” You bend down to the slumped man, weeping with his hands and legs tied, his tears wetting the white blindfold. “I have a favor to ask of you. Then I shall let you go, alright?”

Your voice is soft, and gentle, like a mother speaking to her crying toddler. Like a Venus fly trap, your jaws will soon lower onto your unsuspecting prey. Tender fingers snake around the back of the stranger’s head and untie the gag. A shushing sound leaves your lips as a finger lays on them for a second or two. You roll on your ankles backward and stand up. You tell him that if everything goes well, he can leave. He simply nods, giving up right away.

Your hands go into your trench coat pockets for a second, worshiping the fur that lines them along with your forged ID card, portable cassette player, and flip phone. It is just to make sure they are there in your jacket and not left out as evidence of the performance about to happen. The guests of honor are James and Victor, and they will never know it.

Drip, drip, drip. Through the thin walls, you can hear the usual drops of water coming from James’ ceiling to the container he probably has there. Drip, drip, drip.

“I just need you to say a few words.”

Your demand is sturdy, not taking no for an answer. 

You open up a window and a gentle breeze flows in, making your braid sway from side to side. After a few moments of silence, Victor says that he will do anything if it means he can leave afterward. The floorboards are creaky and splintered and damaged from all of the feet, wheels, and canes that move on and off them. 

“Repeat after me.”

You look down on him like a God. He is nothing more than a dog.

James deserves this. That’s what you tell yourself. James deserves this. James deserves this for being scum and only seeing you as a possession. He deserves this. He deserves what you are about to do.

The sun is rising behind you. You bear resemblance to a masterpiece crafted with the utmost precision and the most vibrant pigments. Your arrival is akin to that of a deity. Drip, drip, drip.

You take your hands out of your pockets.

“Say the name James Ericsson. Please.”

Your stare is vivid, and even with the blindfold on you know that Victor has sensed its intensity because he says. “James Ericsson.”

You smile and your hands dance with one another in a sort of waltz.

There are cries of pain and the sound of bones bending like plastic straws coming from next door.

Victor falls to the ground, not breathing. It is done.

…

The photos were shown on the news, late at night to prevent younger children from seeing them.

There was nothing left of James' upper half.

There was a huge gaping hole in his skull where the brain burst out. The face was completely gone, caving in on itself. As his body was crushed by the invisible pressure, his chest and arms were ripped apart, the muscles and organs ripping out and sticking to the walls, and the larger pieces of meat slipped down with copious amounts of blood, accumulating on the poplar table adorned with dead roses and a shattered glass vase that had been broken. The rest of his stomach spilled out onto the floor beneath the table he had been standing next to. 

Victor was found dead at his apartment. There were no signs of a break and is presumed to have died of a heart attack or stroke. You were careful to attach and remove the blindfold, gag, and restraints so that no bruises or marks formed. 

It is somewhat regrettable, but there was no other way. You know that. It was for the greater good.

Right?

There was no other way, right?

You know that there was no other way, right?

Because there was no other way, right?

They had to die for the greater good, right?

Right?

…Right?

You ride one bus after another back to town with something inside you telling you that this is wrong. James’ screams, his snapping bones, the way his muscle and fat separated like he was a slain cow being cut into pieces by a butcher. Victor’s begging to be set free, and the way that he trusted that you would let him go after he did what you wanted. All of this is wrong, a little voice in the back of your mind says to you.

This isn’t a crime. It isn’t.

The rest of your brain tells you that.

It was a necessary evil. James deserved it, he deserved every ounce of pain you had inflicted on him through the thin apartment walls. You can imagine hearing the dripping of blood from the formerly white now red ceiling.

Drip, drip, drip.

…

You eat at your poplar dining table, alone, in a squeaky old poplar chair. You have only managed to take a bite or two of your food before feeling the urge to vomit. You drank half of your cup of water though, at least. You would have preferred bleach or soap, though. Something basic.

That way your insides would be scrubbed clean by the mix of enzymes, organs, bacteria, and a strong base. Your skin, eyes, and hair would be cleansed with the sweat and tears produced afterward. You pick up your spaghetti with your plastic fork.

Your stomach churns and it feels like it is eating itself. You run to the bathroom, overcome by nausea. An acidic smell and taste. They are both sour and nasty. 

You gag like you are being choked by a ghost or your guilty conscience. You are loudly gasping for air through your vomit-covered lips. 

Drip, drip, drip.

Plop, plop, plop.

Bile piles up in the toilet water, making it bright yellow. You hold onto the toilet seat like it is your lifeline. After a few more moments of heaving, you adjust your posture to be more straight.

You walk back to the kitchen and put the dinner food in your refrigerator. It hums as if it is pleased with how you are feeling. 

Drip, drip, drip.

There is some water leaking from the faucet. You put a cup under it and try to ignore what it reminds you of. You hope it goes away soon. You do. More than anything. 

You want it to go away, and you would do anything to make it stop. But you’re not a plumber, and the only nearest one is in a neighboring town a few hundred kilometers away and his fees are worth a few thousand Jenny. Even if he was nearer, you wouldn’t be able to afford his services. Most unfortunate for you.

You still feel like you are being strangled. 

Your neck’s muscles tighten and the tendons are sticking out. You aren’t going to die, but it feels like it. Everything hurts. Everything hurts and you are disgusted with yourself. But you have to keep going, for eternal freedom. 

Your skin is covered in goosebumps.

You want to vomit your organs out.

You want to scream until your vocal cords swell so much they cannot work. 

You want to swallow and cover yourself in bleach and soap and scrub yourself until your skin is rubbed raw and bleeding.

But you can’t, because you are living in a town now, one where the neighbors are so friendly and everyone knows each other. But you can’t, because someone will come to you, worried sick about you. But you can’t, because you are too appalled in yourself right now to lie to them and pretend you are better than them.

You cannot pretend you are cordial and graceful, because if anything you are sick. Sick and twisted. Your secrets mirror your repulsiveness. You want to lean away from yourself and run from yourself. 

But you can vomit your organs out.

But you can scream until your vocal cords swell so much they cannot work. 

But you can swallow and cover yourself in bleach and soap and scrub yourself until your skin is rubbed raw and bleeding.

That’s because this house is nearly impossible to find for most. Only the porch light is currently on, with the rest of the place in complete darkness. There are overgrown weeds and grass, trees, and fallen branches everywhere. You have tripped many times and almost broken something in the past. You are getting better, though.

This property can be the place where you bury whatever sins you have committed. No one comes here, and no one will come for you if you scream. No one will hear you because this property is cramped and large. 

But you are still living in a town full of people who all know each other.

What if someone hears you?

It is best not to think about it, you tell yourself.

It is best to just let it all out, you tell yourself.

It is best to ignore and lie to those who ask you about it, you tell yourself.

So you vomit again.

You scream so loudly you lose your voice.

You scrub your hands so hard under the sink with soap until they bleed and have scratches all over them.

No one comes for you.

Good.

*~*~*~*

You have always been someone who never takes the time to appreciate the beauty around you.

Your thoughts are constantly besieged by a multitude of voices. Unloving, taking pleasure in others' misfortune, outrage, fear, happiness, delicateness, peacefulness, besiege, schadenfreude, wherewithal. In due time, emotions will reach their boiling point, unveiling the authentic hues of your being; crimson red.

You can make people prefer you over the largest of diamonds with just a few words. Your words can be either their exposition or their denouement. 

But you can’t bring yourself to use Sebaste. This feeling is odd to you, but you don’t complain about it. If anything, you feel warmer than you ever have been.

Your emotions find themselves trapped in a state of indecision, teetering between self-centeredness and pure joy. Something has gone off course. You.

You, who was born with an innate desire to only help those who would help you in exchange. You, who never ventured out to explore the depths of your being, to discover the essence of empathy. You, who have always used others in an attempt to better humanity as a whole, to be in control of others. It is what you do best; being in control.

So, why does Sebaste, an impoverished man, interest you so much? Why would you be willing to give everything you have away just to make sure he has a good life? Why can’t you just leech off of him like you do with everyone else?

It cannot be denied that he holds the position of your greatest vulnerability.

But you cannot bear to discard him.

Even if you wanted to. Even if he wanted you to.

You cannot leave him. He holds your heart in his gentle hands, and you will never get it back. There it will stay far past when his body is deep underground and lost to time.

You would jump into the largest crimson tides if it meant he was waiting for you beneath the waves. In the end, the amalgamation of your emotions will birth a monstrous force, unleashing nothing but devastation.

A colossus. 

The devil that lurks within the deepest confines of your heart.

No exorcism or priest would be able to get rid of it. It will stay inside you until your last breath. Sebaste will eventually uncover the hidden transgressions within your soul, the deeds you committed to survive. The actions you took to elevate yourself above all others and everything else in this world.

In the future, when the stars twinkle no more, the moon loses its luster, and the night sky breaks apart, you will need to seek a new refuge to conceal your wrongdoings from the scorching beams of the sun.

If Sebaste ever were to discover the lies that are the foundation of the makeup used to cover your hideous, real face, or your sticky, sticky, crimson hands, what would be done to stop you? What would you do to stop him from leaving you?

You simply confine the devil into the smallest crevice of your heart, pushing it inside as far as it can go and locking the door. That way, if Sebaste ever were to delve into the labyrinth that is your soul, he wouldn’t find it no matter how much he looks. There the devil will stay even far after it starts rotting, and you promise yourself to keep it that way.

*~*~*~*

The flowers are in bloom. You don’t know what species they are though. The night sky is above you, cold, injured, and bleeding you. Your only physical weapon is your nails, your dull and split nails. 

It starts raining. You don’t have a home of your own, so you decide that a bus stop will suffice for now.

Every inch of you is shivering. Every drop of blood that you bleed hurts. The forest is deep and dark and cruel. If any animals were unaware of your presence, they surely are now considering how you howled in pain as your leg toppled into a bear trap, and howled even louder as you clawed it off with your bare hands, making them all scratched up. The cicadas are crying, even louder than you are. They only respond to your pain with shrill, grating noises and the flaps of their wings. You have nowhere to go that is nearby. Not with your injured leg that has large, deep, painful markings of the trap’s teeth on it. Aside from this bus stop that is in the middle of nowhere. You’re not sure if any bus at all is even on this route anymore, considering how rusty and broken down this stop is. 

You attempt to light one of the few matches you have left. It’s pitch black outside, and the match is your only source of light and warmth from the rain and the night. Your jacket is still caught in that tree, far away from where you currently are. Well, it wasn’t yours per se, but it was your only protection from the elements with its hood and heat. 

Your cries are wasted on your injuries. You know no one will come for you, aside from predators if you bleed out and are near death.

You cannot see anything, even the path of blood drops you most likely made as you gripped your injured leg and began moving once more to the poorly taken care of bus stop, ignoring the pain that shot up with every step. It’s too dark.

You aren’t going to die, but it feels like it.

Even if Chrollo knew where you were and was on the way, it wouldn’t matter. This forest is too big and you may die of blood loss before he even catches sight of you or hears your pained cries.

There are most likely predators here. Wolves, bears, hawks. Something is out there, watching you, you are sure of it. You know it. 

Eventually, the rain stops sometime after your match goes out and you close your eyes after refusing to rest for far too long. You catch a glimpse of the flowers, soaked with morning dewdrops and reflecting the sun’s rays. 

Ah.

Columbines. 

The usual white ones are called doves for a reason. They look like five doves nestled together from afar. The white columbines represent many things. Love. Innocence. Calmness. Peace. Foolishness. Winning. Ironic enough, you cannot relate to any of them.

You’re not in love with anyone. Your innocence was stolen from you long ago, far before you even met Chrollo. You aren’t calm, you are weeping. You aren’t at peace, you are internally fighting yourself as to whether to go back to your captor’s gilded cage. Perhaps you are a fool for running away from the warm blankets and fresh, expensive food. You aren’t winning anything aside from both regrets and desperate want for stability.

Maybe that is why these columbines before you are red. An eye-catching crimson red, as red as your wounds and the trail of blood left from it as you walked to the bus stop. They look like dead doves. They only represent three things. Passion. Terror. Trembling. You find a resemblance of yourself in them, as odd as it would sound to anyone who doesn’t know of or believe your current situation. 

The trap didn’t have rust on it, right?

*~*~*~*

Chrollo and Sebaste are both difficult to understand for you. However, they also could not be more different. This dynamic is similar to a newborn witnessing dawn’s sunrise blossom from the night sky. Both confuse you, for both are very similar yet very contrasting. 

Chrollo and Sebaste both know what they want and they would do anything to achieve it, as long as the people they love aren’t in any danger at the reward of attaining their desires. They only trust a handful of people fully while they ignore other people’s presence. They both have that dark brown hue in their eyes. They both wear darker colors. But Chrollo holds the past in high regard and loves history, meanwhile, Sebaste thinks of the future and modern times more so than the past and as a result keeps up with new technology and media. Chrollo looks at you like a hunter looks at a doe or rabbit, while Sebaste looks at you with purpose, for he knows who you are; an equal.

You look at them differently, too. 

You look at Chrollo with a facade in your eyes, as you pretend to accept your role in his theater by dancing the waltz and singing praises.

You look at Sebaste with veracity, for he is the only one to have ever earned your genuine admiration. 

If either were to see the cracks within the mask you wear if either of them saw what was underneath… it would all be over, wouldn’t it? Chrollo would know more about you than you ever did about yourself and use it against you. Sebaste would leave you all alone to rot away.

That is why you will play the role of a doting queen who hangs onto every word her lover tells her because it is the only choice you have.

It is the only choice you have, and all you ever can be.

It is all you ever will be, you say to yourself.

#yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere hxh x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #hxh #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hier encore. #ultraviolet. #author aya

[intersectionalpraxis]

A lot of careers that literally require a master's degree to be legally performed pay less than $20 an hour. Social workers, teachers, and librarians, many haven't had a cost of living adjustment for decades. It's not a coincidence that these are all woman-dominated job sectors.

A college degree stopped being valuable in the labor market pretty much the exact second that women started earning most of those degrees. Again, not a coincidence.

It's not even an exaggeration for me to say that this country was founded by a bunch of overeducated liberal arts nerds who were celebrated for their erudition. But as soon as women started earning these degrees we decided, nah, college is worthless. What's a book even.

Teachers and social workers are standing in line for food pantry assistance alongside the people they serve because they're not paid enough to support their families. But instead of calling that an abomination, men will log on and say, "They should have picked better careers."

[@/ girlziplocked on X. 12/12/23.]

I also love it when the same people devaluing careers like teaching and the arts will also tell you to "invest in a better degree." While still consuming art, literature, and media as well for THEIR entertainment. I just find it ironic, considering how much joy, amusement, intrigue, catharsism, and so much more comes from the artists, performers, writers, painters, creator's, actors, dancers/etc in our world as well as those in educational/supportive fields -and instead of PAYING them/us more for being able to do what we love (and instead of having financial hardships and structural barriers) y'all will say get better degrees? Then stop reading books, watching movies, going to plays and art galleries/etc. I truly think some of these people don't realize the impact of perpetually degrading the arts truly means.

#feminist #feminism #social justice #intersectional feminism #intersectionality #art #artist

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: *in a formal teaching attire* Good morning, everyone. I'll be your substitute teacher for today.

Ace and Deuce: M-Madame/Ma?!

MC: Everyone should now calm down. I'll make certain that everyone remembers what we're going to cover in this hour.

MC: Because if any of you fail Professor Trein's exam tomorrow, I'll make sure an extra hour is added to your regular schedule. *looks at them with a clear warning in her gaze*

*a few hours ago*

MC: Professor Trein, your visit has taken me by surprise.

Trein: Ah, yes. I sincerely apologize.

MC: I'm guessing it's critical. How do you want me to assist you?

Trein: Oh. First, let me explain my situation to you. My dear wife has called and requested that I return home today. As soon as possible.

Trein: However, I don't have anyone to ask to substitute my class, and I can't just let students hang out during my time.

MC: I see. So you want me to teach in your place?

Trein: I'm not pressuring you, Madame.

MC: No. It's all right, Professor. Your wife was gracious enough to invite me to dinner despite the fact that I was unable to attend.

MC: This will be my way of apologizing to her.

Trein: Thank you very much. You're obviously nice.

MC: However, I'm curious if you'll be leaving lesson plans for me.

Trein: Without a doubt. I have them with me.

MC: Perfect. I'll make certain that your students learn a lot.

Trein: *chuckles* Please, please. Do not overdo it. You could take my place.

MC: I don't think so. I'm nothing in comparison to you, professor. *smiling*

MC: What's your name, mister? *pointing her folded fan at a student*

Jack: J-Jack Howl, Miss!

MC: You appear to be paying close attention in my class. Now I'm curious to see if you weren't acting.

Jack: *his tail wagging*

MC: What's the answer to this question?

Jack: *answers correctly*

MC: *nods* Very well. You have indeed paid attention.

MC: You may now take your seat.

*the bell rings*

MC: Hm. That, I believe, concludes our discussion for today. Goodbye.

Deuce: *rushes towards her* Let me carry your stuff, Ma— Madame!

Ace: Oi, Deucey! Don't leave me behind!

Jack: ...

The students: *talks about her after she left*

Heartslabyul student: Can you believe that? I didn't fall asleep in history class!

Octavinelle student: Maybe because it's a different teacher?

Pomefiore student: I could still remember everything she discussed! In fact, I feel confident that I will perfect Professor Trein's exam tomorrow!

Jack: ...

Jack: Miss!

MC: *turns to look at him* Yes, Jack Howl?

Jack: *has approached her in the hallway* Yes! But you can just call me "Jack", Miss!

MC: Why did you approach me, Jack? Is there anything in our lesson that you don't completely understand?

Jack: N-No, Miss! Everything is fine! It's just that— *keels over*

Jack: PLEASE ALLOW ME TO BE YOUR STUDENT! I'LL BE A GOOD ONE!

MC: ...

MC: Alright. You are welcome to pay a visit to the Ramshackle dorm. However, I recommend that you only go there if you are not too busy or if you are having difficulty with your studies.

MC: That's it. Now hurry up and get to your next class on time. *turns around and walks away*

Jack: Thank you, Miss!!!

Riddle and Azul: *learning that MC has taught history class on freshmen*

Riddle and Azul: ...

Riddle: Don't you think Professor Crewel has any plans on getting a substitute teacher?

Azul: Even if he does so, I don't think the Madame will accept it.

Riddle: Why?

Azul: Madame has told me once that chemistry classes have never been kind to her.

Riddle: I see. How unfortunate.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: However, isn't Madame a good fit for P.E.?

Azul: ...

Azul: *smirks* Now that's an idea.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst jack #twst ace #twst deuce #twst riddle #twst azul #twst mother of all

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Wednesday Addams X Reader

Part VII-No More

3rd Person POV

Wednesday watched as Xavier slid himself into the seat next to Y/n in Math.

The sound of a snap in the distance but no one paid any attention to it.

Enid tapped her roommates shoulder whispering. "Wednesday your pencil broke."

Or should I say? "You broke your pencil.....Again".

The girl simply reached for another pencil, eyes never leaving you or Xavier as he kept whispering to you during class.

She could tell you were trying to pay attention but the tall boy just wouldn't. Shut. Up.

She watched as he tried to subtly brush against you and you ever so innocent, had no idea to the game he was playing.

He knew the answers to the very obvious questions he asked.

He also knew you were still struggling to grasp some concepts and went to help before the teacher cut him off to dismiss the class.

What he didn't know was Wednesday had instructed Thing to tie his laces together so he'd be unable to walk you to your next class.

Wednesday stood fast rushing to get near you as Xavier was about to stand up and offer to tutor you.

"Y/n." Her usual monotone voice held some aggression. The girl looked up in surprise. She pushed her glasses up her nose smiling slightly to the goth.

"Hey Wednesday. Is everything ok?" You were confused as the girl hadn't spoken to you in days. You hadn't seen her except in Herpetology and even then your conversations were held strictly for class. The interaction between you two still plaguing your thoughts.

The girl with the braids nodded. "I thought I'd offer my assistance as I'd overheard you were struggling with some of the concepts."

Xavier shot up in surprise standing far too quickly and falling on his face. Wednesday felt her lips quirk slightly before she turned back to you.

You looked to Xavier in some concern and amusement.

"Are you ok?" The boy nodded untying his shoes as you looked back at Wednesday.

"If you don't mind I'll gladly take the extra help. We can work on it after we finish the project for Herpetology?"

The goth nodded. "I will walk you to your next class."

You went to stand up quickly almost stumbling into her. Wednesday looked down to see Thing directly in front of your foot. She narrowed her eyes making the hand scurry away.

Luckily you didn't think anything of it.

Everyone watching in shock as the Addams girl took your bag and held the door for you before she lead you to your next class.

"Did I just watch Wednesday Addams willingly offer to help someone?" Enid looked to Thing, who just signed a quick "Yes" and Bianca who was too busy laughing at Xavier to notice.

.

.

.

The day continued much of the same as it had that morning. Wednesday helping you in whatever you needed as everyone stared whispering while they watched the two of you interact. No one knowing what to say as the usually introverted girl socialized with you.

It was lunch where you both sat under a tree. You eating and Wednesday who to anyone else would seem to be reading but was actually paying attention to your every move.

Enid sat with Bianca, Yoko and Davina as they watched the two of you.

"I think I'm in shock." Enid broke the silence and the stare they all had on you two.

"I think WE'RE ALL in shock." Davina laughed as Yoko put an arm around her shoulder.

"So how long do you guys think it'll take them to be official?" Everyone turned their head to a smirking Bianca. "What? Might as well make it interesting."

"I give it a week." Enid proposed.

"A few hours. Wednesday doesn't waste time." Bianca smirked

Davina spoke up. "Maybe Wednesdays just bored I can't see her actually being in a relationship. She's too cold."

Enid scowled. "Wednesday not that bad."

"Real question is.." Yoko drawled. "How long until Xavier realizes he needs to stop going for girls who aren't interested?"

The group of girls turned their heads to see the tall boy scowling at the table as his fork stabbed the food on his tray. Ajax next to him patting his shoulder.

They all laughed before turning back to the two girls, their jaws dropping when they saw Wednesday gently place her book down and give you her full attention.

Enid turned to Davina smug. "WeDnEsDay's TOo cOlD."

Across the quad, you were in a conversation with Wednesday discussing a recent documentary you found on a serial killer. Her eyes didn't seem so cold to you anymore and you could swear that just for a moment she was actually engaged in the conversation as well. You knew for sure when she'd made a sarcastic remark that made you laugh.

Of course all good things came to an end when Elijah stalked over to the both of you.

"Hey sis. It's been a minute."

Wednesday didn't like the way your smile fell. Or how you began to close yourself off the minute his smug face came into view. She looked to the boy one eyebrow raised, eyes slightly narrowed.

"Can we help you?" The boys smile grew wider.

"Yeah I got this bet going with Kent about goth chicks being freaks in bed." Wednesday stood when you did. You pushed the boy making him stumble slightly. He grew agitated and went to push you back but found his arm in Wednesdays grasp.

She'd flipped him using his own body weight against and stood tall.

"Didn't your mother teach you to never put your hands on a woman?" The boy coughed before he laughed.

"She's not a woman she's a little bitch." Wednesday grabbed the boy by his collar crouching slightly.

"WEDNESDAY!" Her mother came into view. "Let him go."

The girl glared dropping him harshly and knocking the wind out of him. Y/n stepping up to Dean Addams as a crowd of students rushed forward as well.

"It's not her fault-" The tall woman held a hand up to the girl.

"Why don't you two head to your dorms? I'd like to speak to some of the other students first to get their versions of events."

You nodded walking to your dorm not knowing Wednesday was right behind you.

When you went to open the door you felt a body bump into you. You turned in surprise.

"Sorry." You grimaced stepping aside to let the girl in.

She stood still not saying anything as she tried to get rid of her anger.

"I'm so sorry that he-" she cut you off.

"Does he always speak to you that way?" Her voice was surprisingly soft.

You nod unable to meet her eyes.

A cold finger went under your chin lifting your gaze to meet dark eyes.

"Not anymore, querida."

.

.

.

A bucket of water was splashed on Elijah's face as he awoke in a strange room.

"Howdy Elijah." He looked up to see a familiar goth glaring at him. Next to her a table full of tools and a single hand grabbing pliers.

"What the fuck?! Let me go." The girls head tilted slightly to the side.

"Did you not want this?" She asks feigning confusion as the boy shakes in frustration.

"NO!" The ravenette deadpanned before she grabbed the scalpel from Thing.

"That's the same thing Y/n said when you put your disgusting hands on her wasn't it?" The boy shook sweating and nervous. "I'm afraid I can't let you go Elijah I made a promise to your sister and myself."

"What-what promise?" She smirked.

"No more." She stepped closer sticking the boy with a needle. "Tetrodotoxin. Known for interfering with the transmission of signals from nerves to muscles causing paralysis to the muscles of the body."

Elijah's heart was nearly flying out of his chest. "Please."

Wednesday almost laughed. "You call that begging?" She turned to her partner in crime.

"Thing, let's start with his nails. It's been too long since we've tortured someone and I want to savor this."

Taglist: @tiffanysunshine @awolfcsworld @maria-403 @ognenniyvolk @dreifhraniquo29 @rainbow-love4ever @ghostissus @reginassweetheart @lucasm8 @thedemoninme141 @alexkolax @fashromanmaximoff

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wlw post #wednesday #wednsday addams #wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader

[gagmewitha-spork]

Flirt (Klara Bühl x reader)

Warnings: angst. also it’s vvvvvvv long.

Description: Klara has the feels for reader but reader is a flirt and there’s lots of miscommunication.

Notes: requested about 3 months ago, like I started this at the start of november. I think I kinda strayed from the original request a little bit… but hopefully the length makes up for that and the time I took to write it :)

“reader joins bayern after the euros and is English and joins bayern from Chelsea and they get close and develop a crush on each other and they ask each other out in the end”

Word Count: 5117

Your move from Chelsea to Bayern Munich was big, one of the biggest signings of the year in fact. It was no Keira Walsh to Barca level move, but the German club had paid a considerable amount of money to buy out the last year of your contract with Chelsea, and the blues had clung onto you right until the last minute. But in the end, they had respected your wishes to move, understanding that it was what was best for you.

Being at Chelsea was great, you had grown up there, having come up through the academy system at the club, but you needed to play somewhere you could guarantee you would get consistent minutes and a frequent starting position, and with the sheer amount of defensive talent, and just talent in general at Chelsea, it was difficult to get the minutes you were looking for.

You’d had an incredible summer with the lionesses, coming in as a one of the ‘super-subs’ at around the 60th minute every game, taking over from Rachel Daly as LB. You had quickly been recognised as one of the best young players at the tournament and had made a bit of a name for yourself, working high up the pitch on the left wing, sending in crosses that had resulted in quite the number of assists to your name. Your pace and endurance also meant that you could cover a lot of ground and sit high up on the wings while still being able to get back down the pitch into a defensive position when needed, which had come in handy in a few games, especially against the likes of Spain and Germany.

You had now been in the Bavarian capital for around 5 months and had settled in well. Having Georgia there with you made everything a lot easier, plus having had a few German lessons from Pernille before leaving London made things much easier too. You definitely wouldn’t claim you were anywhere near being fluent, but she had taught you most of the basics, including several phrases she had insisted you would be likely to hear on the pitch or during training, and your lessons with the teacher provided by the club were going well.

Both you and Georgia had quickly made friends with the a few of the Germans, most specifically Lina Magull, Sydney Lohman and Klara Bühl. The five of you had become known among the squad for being loud and always laughing about something, though if you were to have a say, you’d put most of it on Lina, Syd and Georgia. The three of them together were a bunch idiots, while yourself and Klara enjoyed sitting back and enjoying the free comedy show they put on, occasionally chiming in to fuel the fire when they would briefly die down.

Your relationship with Klara had gradually become less friendly and more flirty as the months had gone by. You generally had quite a flirty personality anyway, and had developed a bit of a reputation. Fans would often post edits of you on twitter flirting with refs and players, both on your own team and others. You were charming, but Klara had seen the edits, and was well aware of your reputation, so no matter how much her heart would flutter every time you sent a flirty remark or wink her way, her head told her you did it with everyone so it didn’t mean anything.

The way you were looking at her now though, almost made her weak at the knees.

The team were stood in the middle of the Allianz doing a pitch inspection, and you had just joined everyone in the centre circle after having done your usual ritual of speaking to the grass and asking it to be nice to you and your teammates for todays game.

You now stood opposite Klara in the circle, you had caught her looking your way and had immediately sent her one of your signature smirks. Going against everything her body was telling her to do, she managed to maintain some eye contact with you, and as a result she saw a seemingly impressed look cross your face before you broke the eye contact at your name being called.

You looked over your shoulder and instantly a bright grin broke out on your face, a grin that made Klara follow your eye line to find the source of your sudden happiness. Her eyes landed on a group of Barcelona players, but as you left the circle of your teammates and made your way towards them, she was surprised to see that it wasn’t either of your England teammates, Keira Walsh or Lucy Bronze, who you leapt into the arms of. Instead it was Mariona Caldentey, a Spanish player.

A frown formed on Klara’s face as she watched you interact with the Spaniard, your usual flirty demeanour evident to her even from this far away. How did you even know any of the Spanish players, she thought to herself.

Right on cue, two more joined the pair of you. It was Patri Guijarro and Claudia Pina. You hugged them both in greeting, but instead of separating from the youngest of the three like you had the others, you stayed with your arms wrapped around the smaller girls shoulders from behind. You pulled her close into your front, kissing her cheek and saying something into her ear that made her giggle. Klara couldn’t bring herself to take hers eyes off of you. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and she was reminded for the umpteenth time that when you flirted with her, it was no different to you than from when you flirted with anyone else.

“How does y/n know the Barca players?”, Klara suddenly found herself asking Syd. Her German teammate only shrugged her shoulders in response.

Klara kept watching you, how you interacted with Mariona and Patri, and especially how you kept Claudia close, the four of you laughing at whatever you were talking about. Her mind reeled with potential reasons as to why or how you might know any of them. She couldn’t come up with one.

In the end, as you separated yourself from the opposition players, placing another kiss to Claudia’s cheek as you did, and everyone started making their way back into the dressing rooms, Klara concluded several things. 1. She was definitely falling for you. Why else would seeing you interact with another girl like that affect her this much? 2. She was too far gone to stop now, and 3. You were clearly in some kind of relationship with the young Barca forward. Which sucked given her other two revelations.

She masterfully avoided you for the majority of warm ups, and sat beside Georgia during half time. You didn’t seem to notice the lack of her presence by your side. Which only caused her heart to shatter further. She may have avoided you but that didn’t mean she didn’t watch.

You had a lot of habits, and doing an obscene amount of stretching during half time was one of them. In the past she had teased you for it, saying you did it on purpose to show off. Now all she could do was watch and hate the fact that she’d seemingly missed her chance with you. Not that she ever really had one anyway. Why would you choose her over the beautifully tanned perfection of an up and coming Spanish superstar?

Soon enough the team was making their way back out onto the pitch and the second half was under way.

The game ended with Bayern winning, and the team celebrated almost like they had just won the whole competition. Barcelona were a tough side, but Bayern had been the better team and the result showed that.

Klara felt a weight jump on her back as she walked around the side of the pitch with everyone. Without needing to look back she knew it was you, the abundance of intricately linked tattoos on your arms was a dead giveaway, and she wouldn’t admit it, but she had practically memorised the feel of your body pressed against her own.

“Wir sind die meister!”, you shouted in her ear, she laughed, the pronunciation was off, but it was close enough, “we should celebrate”, you continued, remaining on her back, your arms, and now legs too, wrapped around her as she carried you, still applauding the fans as she walked.

“Is that not what we’re doing?”, she questioned you, laughing again at your excited demeanour.

“Nein!”, you shout, a bit too loud for how close you were to her ear, “I mean celebrate properly”, you insist, “go out, eat great food, have a few drinks, it’s almost Christmas anyway”.

“We have a game in three days y/n”, Klara points out.

“I didn’t say anything about alcohol”, you defended, “we’ll save that for the end of year party”, you said, and jumped off of her back, but not before planting a kiss on her cheek. Klara felt a warmth instantly start creeping it’s way up her neck, but thankfully you were too distracted to realise.

The two of you continued your lap around the pitch, your arm stayed slung over Klara’s shoulder for as long as possible, only leaving her side a few times to sign shirts or take photos with a few fans. But you came straight back to her side every time.

So much for avoiding you, Klara thought to herself. The bead of hope that had found a home in her heart was growing again, much to her dismay, but maybe you did like her back…

She shook her head, deciding to just be in the moment instead of overthinking every little thing you did. For now at least.

After about half an hour the team gradually started making their way back inside the dressing rooms. You had disappeared inside a little earlier than Klara, so were already finished showering by the time she got in. She had just finished getting out of her match kit and was about to head to the showers when you caught her arm.

“So we’re going for food tonight right?”, you asked her.

“Oh yeah sure, who else is coming”, she asked, assuming there would be a group of you going.

“Just us”, you replied simply. She failed to keep the slight look of shock off her face, but ended up getting it together and sending you a smile.

“Okay, cool”, she said calmly, though on the inside, she was freaking out.

You let go of the light grip you had in her arm and she made her way into the showers, taking a moment once she was out of sight of everyone to let out some of her internal excitement, before getting on with her shower.

About ten minutes later she emerged from the showers to find you were no longer in the dressing room. She didn’t think too much of it, assuming you were probably just with the physio or something.

“Did y/n say how long she’d be?”, she asked a few of the girls who were still sat around getting ready to leave.

Most of the just shrugged in response, but Lea, with a careful look on her face, spoke.

“She didn’t say, but someone knocked on the door asking for her, I think it was one was the Barca players”, she informed Klara.

Klara’s heart dropped at the information, but she reminded herself that you had asked her to go to dinner, so she relaxed slightly. You were probably just catching up with your friends. She must remember to ask you how you know them, she reminds herself.

She leaves the locker room thinking you’d probably just be out in the hallway somewhere chatting. But when she finds you, well, chatting is definitely not what she’d call it.

She rounds a corner in the hallway, and that’s where she finds you, with Claudia pressed between yourself and the wall, your lips locked together.

You pull away at the sound of Klara’s gasp, a sound she had not made voluntarily, and glance over your shoulder towards her.

She turns and runs back towards the dressing room before you get a chance to say anything, but decides against re-entering a room where a bunch of her friends would be sat, knowing they would know something was up straight away. She really didn’t want to talk about it, all she wanted to do, was go home, and soothe her broken heart.

How could she be so stupid, she thought to herself, she could tell there was something going on between you and the Spaniard when she’d seen you interact before the game. Her stupid heart had gone and gotten its hopes up anyway.

“Klara!”, she suddenly hears you call, “Klara wait”, you say as you catch up to her. In her shock she apparently hadn’t made it anywhere near as far as she’d hoped, “please don’t tell anyone”, you beg, she just stares back at you, still shocked and now a little confused, “it’s not serious, we’re just having fun, but I’d prefer it if none of the team knew, you know?”, god you were so fucking oblivious it was infuriating.

“Fick dich”, she shoves you backwards.

“What?”, you asked, now it’s your turn to be confused. She was angry, over what you weren’t sure, but you were certain you were about to find out.

“Fuck you”, she said in English this time, like you hadn’t understood what she’d said the first time. She shoved you again too and you held your hands up, staying far enough from her that she wouldn’t be able to do it again.

“Ich kann nicht glauben dass ich dachte du magst mich”, she said, mostly to herself.

“Klara I can’t understand you”, you pleaded with her.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about how you’re fucking a Barcelona player”, she spits at you, the venom of her words almost paralysing you.

She goes to move past you, intending to leave, but you grasp her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Klara, what is going on?”, you beg for her to explain what’s caused her anger to be directed towards you. She doesn’t answer, instead just scoffing and pulling her arm out of your grasp.

“Why are you mad?”, you push, getting annoyed yourself now. She has no right to be mad about this, it wasn’t affecting her, “why are you so pissed about what I do with my sex life? It has nothing to do with you”.

“Well it does now I have to keep your dirty fucking secrets”.

“Is that really what you’re pissed about?”, you exclaim, exasperated, “that I asked you not to tell anyone?”, you’re in shock, “Jesus fucking Christ Klara if I knew it’d be such a problem I wouldn’t have asked, I just thought you’d be a good friend and not go gossiping about my personal life”.

“Fuck you”, she repeats, and it only pisses you off more.

“No, fuck you, if you care so much I’ll just tell everyone myself”, you finish before storming into the locker room where most of the team still sat, “hey guys, Klara seems to think that keeping a secret for a friend is too much of a tough ask for her so I just thought I’d tell you before she does”, you start, gaining the attention of everyone, “I’ve been hooking up with Claudia Pina for while now, it’s nothing serious, but it’s good fun and she’s really fucking good in bed so yeah”, you shrug, turning back to see Klara stood in the doorway behind you, a shocked expression on her face, “happy now?”, you ask sarcastically.

She doesn’t respond, but lets you push past her back into the hallway and god knows where after that.

The whole team stare at her in shock. She feels a lot of things. Embarrassed. Angry. Heartbroken. She wishes the ground would open up and suck her down into it.

She doesn’t see you until you show up to recovery training the next day, barely on time. You look tired, your jaw is set and you don’t make eye contact or speak to anyone while you change, before heading out to the training pitch straight away.

Klara sees a few of her teammates look her way after watching you leave, but she just looks away from them.

Days go by in exactly the same way, you barely talk to anyone, especially not Klara, and you avoid any invitations to hang out in your free time, masterfully really, considering you live in a shared apartment with Georgia.

You play the final league game of the year with a new found fire, and the following two champions league games are the same.

It’s now the day before your flight home to England, and as much as you wanted to, you just couldn’t get out of going to the end of year team party.

You got ready before climbing into the back of a taxi alongside Georgia. She hadn’t asked you about what had happened at the Barca game, as much as she wanted to. But, being your roommate, she was well aware that you had failed to return home that night, and considering what you had revealed before storming out of the locker room, she didn’t need to guess where you were.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could now see her, trying to avoid getting caught looking at you.

“G”, you turn to her, causing her to look away quickly, acting like she hadn’t just been watching you intently, “whatever you want to say, just get on with it, the staring is getting creepy”.

“What happened between you and Klara?”, she blurts out.

You roll your eyes, you supposed you would have to tell someone eventually, you just didn’t think the back of a taxi would be the place.

“She caught me and Claudia, in the hallway”, you started explaining, “I asked her not to tell anyone, I just didn’t want everyone gossiping about it”, you continued, “but she freaked out at me, said some shit in german when I asked her to explain what was going on, which I obviously didn’t understand, and then basically informed me she was a shitty friend and wouldn’t keep a secret for me”, you took a breath in an attempt to get your growing anger back under control, “so I told everyone myself and then went and had some mind blowing sex”.

“Okay”, Georgia trailed off, thinking over what she had just heard, “I can’t see Klara doing something like that”.

“Well it happened so believe it”, you stated bitterly, “I knew I should have just gone to Spain or France instead”, you muttered, mostly to yourself but it was loud enough for Georgia to hear.

“Hey no”, Georgia starts, grabbing your hand, “don’t let this make you think like that, you’re playing well, getting minutes, you just need a break, go home, chill out, forget all this and in January when we go to Mexico everything will be better”.

“You don’t know that”, you say dejectedly, “I though she was my friend, I just don’t understand why she reacted like that, but either way I don’t know how long I can go playing on the same team as her if it’s always going to be like this now”.

“Maybe you should talk to her”, she suggests, “now you’ve had some time to cool off, y/n she watches you like you hung the stars in the sky, I think you should maybe hear what she has to say”.

“If she wants to apologise she can approach me herself”, you say bluntly, getting out of the back of the taxi, as it had arrived at the hotel restaurant the team had hired out for the evening, before Georgia could say anything further.

She sighs to herself as she watches you make you way inside, then thanks the taxi driver before following after you.

Once inside you realise that most of the team is already here, so you make your way to the bar to get a drink. Georgia joins you pretty quickly and you order drinks for the two of you.

You spend a short while mingling with a few of your teammates, you had yet to see Klara and Syd so assumed they had yet to arrive. If you were honest you were quite thankful for this as it meant you could spend some time talking to everyone before you inevitably spent the rest of the evening avoiding standing within a 5 metre radius of Klara.

It was about 20 minutes after you arrived that you heard people greeting both Syd and Klara as they entered. You couldn’t help but glance over towards them and when you did, you were thankful that Klara was too occupied with greetings to look back in your direction.

A wave of sadness passed over you as you looked at her. A sadness for the loss of a friendship you had grown to treasure over the months you had been in the city. And it was a sadness which masked the anger you still felt for what had happened.

Your gaze was pulled away from her by a notification on your phone. It was Claudia. You had told her everything that had gone down with Klara, and she’d been on your side throughout, because aside from being your occasional hookup, she was definitely one of your closest friends above anything else.

You’d met the Spanish players around a year and a half ago, through Erin Cuthbert, one of your best friends from Chelsea. She had dragged you on a trip to Spain during the summer, where you had met her girlfriend Mariona, and subsequently her friends Mapi and Ingrid. You weren’t aware you were being dragged on holiday to be a fifth wheel, so when you had also met up with a few of the other Barcelona players, and Claudia happened to be the only other single person there… it was inevitable really.

Barcelona were also having their end of year party tonight, so Claudia had sent you a picture of herself and Patri, along with a message telling you to have a good night and just ignore Klara. You messaged her back telling her the same thing (minus the ignore Klara part obviously) and said you’d give her a call tomorrow to fill her in on the nights events.

As you put your phone away you look up and immediately find yourself locked into uncomfortable eye contact with Klara. It’s like she knew you were texting Claudia. You looked away and internally rolled your eyes, she had no right to care about who you were or were not texting.

The night went on very much the same, you would occasionally find yourself making eye contact with Klara across the room, but you never found yourself in the same vicinity as her. If you had paid more attention you would have noticed that she was watching you, waiting for the perfect time to catch you.

She had spent the last week or so planning what to say in her apology. She knew it needed to include an explanation, she was just terrified to admit the reason she had reacted the way she did was because she liked you. You evidently didn’t feel the same way, that much was obvious to her, but she knew you deserved the truth, especially if she wanted a chance at rekindling some kind of friendship with you.

She was also scared that if she told you the truth, you may no longer want to be friends with her anyway, that you’d find it too weird. In the end she hadn’t really decided on what she was going to say, hoping that in the moment the right words would come to her. She knew she needed to say something tonight, you were going home tomorrow and she wouldn’t see you until January, and she couldn’t bare to have to spend the holidays with the situation unresolved.

So she had been watching you all night, waiting for the perfect time to catch you, and as you finished a conversation with Maxi and Linda and headed towards the toilets, she took her opportunity to follow.

Some people might say it’s a bit creepy to wait right outside a toilet stall for someone, but she knew she’d need to take you by surprise if she was going to convince you to talk to her.

You stepped out and saw her immediately, she had been waiting leant back against the sinks directly opposite the stalls and stood up straight as you emerged.

Neither of you said anything as you stepped up and washed your hands, but she turned and watched you the entire time, you could feel her gaze piercing the side of your head as she did. You moved to dry your hands, all without saying a word.

It’s like the words were stuck in her throat, she couldn’t get them any further up, which left her staring at you like an idiot. She wanted to smack herself around the face in an attempt to knock herself out of whatever trance she’d fallen into, but she was rooted in place.

You were moving slow, like you were giving her a chance to spit something out, anything, but still she couldn’t think of what to say. Now she really wished she’d rehearse exactly what she wanted to say, because as it turns out, in the moment, she was frozen.

You move towards the door, but before pulling it open you pause, a last chance for Klara to say what she followed you in here to say.

When she doesn’t, you start to pull at the door.

“Wait!”, Klara immediately exclaims, out of instinct more than anything. You stop at her request and turn back to face her, folding your arms over your chest, “I um..”, she trails off, “I’m sorry”.

You don’t reply, she’s going to need to say more than that if she wants to be forgiven.

She breaths out heavily and starts pacing, rubbing her temples. A puzzled frown forms on your face as you watch, you were honestly expecting either more arguing or more pleading, you weren’t sure what to call this.

“Okay”, she starts, “Ich werde es einfach sagen”, she says in German, your frown deepens as you don’t really understand what she’s saying, “I like you”, your eyes widen slightly at what she might be implying, “like really like you, and I thought you liked me too, but obviously you don’t, which is totally fine”, she fills in quickly, “I just, yeah, I thought you did, then I saw you with Pina and I was totally heartbroken and I guess probably jealous and I shouldn’t have reacted that way and I’m really sorry”, she finishes, or so you thought, “and I would really like to still be friends with you but I totally understand if that’s not what you want, if you think it’s too weird or whatever”, she actually finishes this time, now standing awkwardly in front of you, her hand rubbing over the back of her neck as you stare at her.

She couldn’t even start to figure out what the look on your face meant. It was sort of a half frown, half shocked look.

I takes you a second but eventually you speak, “I thought you were straight”, is all you say, your tone as unreadable as your face.

“Oh, um, I mean, I used to have a boyfriend, but I’ve dated girls before…”, she trails off, not feeling the need to explain any further.

“If I’d known”, you say, “sorry I assumed”, you apologise.

“No it’s fine, there was no way you could have known”, she justifies for you.

“No, I shouldn’t have assumed”, you repeated, “if I’d known, god I would have done everything so differently”.

The atmosphere shifts at what you say, and the bead of hope that had always been present within Klara starts to grow once again.

“What would”, she clears her throat, “what would you have done differently?”, she asks you.

“I would have made it all mean something, I would have”, you throw your hands up.

Before you can continue Klara lunges forwards, grasping your face between her hands and planting her lips against yours.

It’s takes a second for you to release what’s happening before you pull her flush against your body by the hips and start kissing her back.

Your lips moves perfectly against each others. Klara’s are soft, but her kiss is hard, fuelled by a desperation you can tell she’s been holding onto for a while.

After a few seconds you pull away, “yeah I probably would have done that a long time ago”, you state, before pulling her back in again.

This time the kiss is softer, sweeter, you both know it won’t be your last.

Klara is the one to pull away this time, “will you go in a date with me?”, she asks, a hopeful tone to her voice.

“Yeah, I would like that”, you reply, and place one last kiss to her lips, “we should go now”.

“Now?”, Klara questions, a little shocked.

“Yeah I mean, I’m going home tomorrow, I don’t want to have to wait until the new year”, you tell her your logic.

“What about”, she pauses, “I mean don’t you need to, you know, probably talk to Pina”.

“I told you it was casual, she’s just a friend”, you insist, she doesn’t believe you, you can tell by the look on her face, “don’t worry about it, she’s got something going on with someone back in Spain anyway, she won’t care, she’s been looking for an excuse to tell me we needed to stop for ages”, you explain, “I’ll call her tomorrow”.

“Okay”, she smiles.

“Okay”, you repeat, and then grasp her hand in yours.

The two of you manage to sneak out of the team party with nobody noticing you.

A little while later Georgia texts you though, asking if you were okay, and if by the off chance you had seen Klara, who had also mysteriously disappeared from the party.

You replied telling her you’d explain on the plane home, but that she didn’t need to worry about you and Klara trying to kill each other anymore.

You didn’t look at her reply, but you would have rolled your eyes at her claim that she was responsible for setting the two of you up.

#klara buhl x reader #klara buhl imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

[minkkumaz]

SOMEONE OLDER

la poésie romantique. words spoken passionately, yet holding no sincere meaning when spoken by all your past loves. but he held the key to your heart that no man ever could, establishing the belief that you didn't need anyone other than him; not even your own father. because myungho could treat you right, couldn't he?

PAIRING ji myungho x fem!reader WC 1.7k TAGS angst. suggestive themes. toxic college professor myungho. slight manipulation. reader has daddy issues. OMI NOTE this is.. extremely different from anything i've written but i saw an edit of myungho to 'someone older' by isabel larosa and it genuinely changed my life. idk how im gonna get away with this but i do not get paid to gaf END OF STORY!

father never taught you to stray away from boys that wouldn't treat you right, and nobody ever taught boys to hold a heart with care; instead breaking it recklessly. the constant rotation between showing love and begging for forgiveness stripped energy from your body like a piece of clothing. it might as well have been, because that would be easier, right?

maybe it was the way you looked. it was only your left shoulder on full display, as your slightly large tee - shirt clinged onto you. you had only assumed the boy was being nice by placing a calloused hand on your soft skin, pulling up the material slightly before smiling at you. the pull of his lips were sweet, masking something sinister underneath. such a small gesture made you so naive, it was your own fault getting involved with him. those memories became a puddle of mush, left in the past.

but it wasn’t just boys of his stature, it was boys in general. ill thoughts swarmed your head rapidly. a sense of self doubt, regret, vengeance. it left you in a forever state of numbness, zoning out into a false reality you wish you could call your own. a reality with a man that would treat you right.

the sound of gears turning in the clock on the wall was where your focus lay, emerging yourself in the tick tock, tick tock. each of your senses slowly depleted from your body, leaving you with the round device against the off - white wall. 

a hand slightly slamming against the desk in front of you cut into your mind like a knife.

“zoning out again, aren’t we, miss y/n?” professor ji spoke out, eyes like daggers, “see me after class.”

you nodded sheepishly, feeling the weight of the moment escape from your mouth in a breathy exhale as he went back to instruct the class. 

in an attempt to ignore the stares of your peers burning into your skull, you slid down in your seat. maybe they were looks of pity, or quite possibly hints of jealousy. yet time couldn’t pass any quicker, as you returned to the never - ending tick of the clock.

meeting a teacher after the bell rang was never on your roster, let alone with your stupidly attractive english professor. it wasn’t a secret how desirable he was. you could only hear seductive comments made about the way he left his shirt slightly unbuttoned, leather jacket draped around the back of his chair and not his shoulders.

students filed out in a fast - paced manner, painting the room to seem much bigger without as many people crowding the seats. your professor followed quietly behind the crowd, closing the door as soon as everyone had been gone. this left the two of you alone, as well as the familiar clock ticking in the background.

your heart became heavy in your chest, watching his tall figure approach you like a predator stalking it’s prey.

“y/n.” professor ji says your name sternly, “care to tell me how boring my lessons are that you haven’t been paying attention?” 

“professor– it’s not like that, i promise.” you stuttered out in an attempt to defend yourself, “i’ve had a lot on my mind recently and it’s getting the better of me.”

“why don’t you contact the campus counselor? i’m sure mr. yoonsung would love to assist you in whatever problem you have in that head of yours.” he suggests.

“i don’t think i can do that sir. things are a lot more complicated than they might seem. but i swear, i’ll try to keep myself in check.”

“you don’t think you can do that?” he laughs almost mockingly, picking up a pencil on your desk to spin between his bony fingers, “i might need a better reason than that.”

“this is so embarrassing..” you sigh in defeat, “it’s about my love life, professor ji. i don’t mean to be rude, but none of that is quite relevant to you, let alone any teacher on campus. so while i respect your request for me to seek outside advice, that won’t be happening.”

“so i’m just any teacher to you? miss y/n, i’m unsure that you understand who i am to you.”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

“you chose to major in english when you enrolled here. so i’d assume you would put effort not only into this class, but the person teaching it to you.” he states with an almost threatening tone, making your stomach queasy. 

a cat had gotten your tongue, leaving you with nothing to say in a situation where you felt you had to defend yourself. this made his lips perk up into a smile, taking the pencil he was holding to tilt your chin up slightly by the eraser end.

“i’ve only ever wanted to help you, y/n. almost like it’s my job.” he tells you, “you excel in every single assignment i give you, up until recently. dont let a beautiful mind like yours be so easily manipulated by a college frat boy.”

“this isn’t my fault, you make it seem much easier than it sounds.” your bottom lip quivers slightly at the position he has you in, yet also because he’s correct in his assumption.

“when you get an idea in your head, you find it in everything. do you remember who said that quote?”

“victor hugo. we’re learning about works in other languages to broaden our knowledge, so of course i remember.”

“your idea of love is tainted, hence why you let yourself get hurt. am i wrong?” he reads you like a book.

you nod at him, feeling your throat become dry. each of your senses were heightened, the cold rubber eraser under your chin being replaced by the tip of his finger. the state of your mind was vulnerable, crowded only by the idea of him and his frigid gaze.

a shiver ran down your spine as if it was being chased, his face creeping closer to yours until it was inches apart. 

“do you know what you want in a relationship?” he spoke, breath barely grazing against your lips because of the remaining distance. when you didn’t speak, his face contorted into an expression just a little bit colder, “you respond to authority when spoken to. don’t jeopardize your status in my class because you can’t answer a simple question. remember that i just want to help you.”

“i want someone to care for me as much as i care for them.” you finally let out with a sob, guilt washing over you for not giving a clearer response. 

“that was easy, wasn’t it? my poor y/n, not being treated properly because nobody quite knows how to.” he chuckles lowly, wiping a singular tear that rolled down your cheeks, “now that you know what you want, what do you need?”

“i– i don’t know, professor ji.” you pout.

“you already said it out loud. use your words to tell me.” his hand traveled around to the back of your head, gripping at your hair to move your head more upwards.

“i think i need someone older.” your words sounded distressed, yet they were all he needed to hear. 

“there you go.” he lets go of your hair, a switch in demeanor as he smiles at you, “come here.”

walking back to his desk, he leaves you in a pile of muck and confusion at your own. for someone you can hardly read, something about him makes you want to learn. 

you scoot your chair back, the sound of it scraping against the hard floors making you wince slightly. with each step approaching him, your heartbeat quickened. professor ji had always been an enigmatic figure on campus. young, passionate in his interests, and everything you were starting to think you needed in someone. 

maybe you wanted him to be passionate in you. 

“is this wrong?” you ask quietly, now face to face with him.

“there’s a flaw in your question, especially since you already know the answer, miss y/n.” he coos, reaching to move a loose strand of hair away from your face, “father wouldn’t tell you right from wrong. such a terrible man, isn’t he? so let me tell you what you deserve to hear.” 

“he’s not terrible, he just loves me differently.” you weren’t sure why you felt the need to defend your dad, but words came out before you could think.

“don’t get it twisted; those who love you warn you about the consequences others actions could have on a person. trust that i could protect you more than any man could.” he said with envy underlying his tone.

“yes, sir.” you shake your head yes, tears starting to burn your eyes with what you couldn’t determine if it was happiness or culpability.

“call me myungho.” he cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands, rough against your soft skin, “now let me take care of you, then you could take the weight off my shoulders.”

myungho brought your face closer to his, almost immediately closing the gap that separated the boundaries between professor and student. this barrier was destroyed in the span of seconds, his lips locking perfectly with yours. they were soft, barely chapped, and meant for you.

it was a rhythmic harmony that flowed perfectly like words on a page, pulling you deeper and deeper until you couldn’t pull away; too infatuated to stop and so unaware you couldn’t bother to give a shit at the thought of someone walking in.

he had you right where he wanted you, the objective that nobody other than him could hold your heart careful enough not to split it in half. 

the kiss escalated, making your lips puffy and red as they were attacked by his. one of myungho’s hands wrapped around your waist to pull you close. your arms were tucked into your chest, unsure where to put them.

once he finally pulled away from you, a string of saliva kept both of you attached, breaking away quickly. his eyes were dark, yet not in a way that would seem intimidating. a look you’ve never seen before.

you were ready to find out.

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz !

#⋆｡˚ my works #8turnweb #myungho x reader #ji myungho x reader #myungho angst #myungho 8turn #8turn myungho x reader #8turn x reader #8turn angst #8turn imagines #8turn drabbles #8turn fluff #8turn x you #8turn myungho #8turn myhungho x reader #8turn #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop angst #kpop imagines

[nicoleheichou]

Girl Of My Dreams - Chapter 39: Effective Immediately

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Synopsis: Sakusa was the type to always get things done on his own, but now that he's forced to juggle between his successful pro-volleyball career and being a single dad, what happens when he enrolls his daughter in a new preschool and meets his daughter's new teacher? Will their relationship remain professional or will it evolve into something more?

"Yn! Okumura-san would like to see you in her office." One of your colleagues tells you as soon as you step into the building. For some reason you have an uneasy feeling in your gut, it's not every day that you get called into your boss's office. You rack your brain trying to remember if you'd done anything to warrant a meeting with her, not finding any reason for one, you feel your anxiety spike. You let out a shaky exhale before knocking on her door.

You hear some shuffling on the other side before she calls for you to come in. You slowly make your way into the room, where you notice she's already watching you, waiting for you to stand in front of her. She motions for you to take a seat which you do. It's quiet for a few moments before she leans forward in her seat, eyes studying your face.

"You needed to speak to me?" You ask, voice a little shaky with the way she's eyeing you. "Look, yn, I'm not going to beat around the bush. You're an amazing teacher and the children and parents can all attest to that, but I'm afraid that we'll be putting you on administrative leave effective immediately." She looks at you apologetically. It takes you a few moments to fully process what you're hearing. "Administrative leave? What? Why? What did I do?" A lot of questions tumble out of your mouth, your mind swirling with so many more.

You can tell she's not happy about having to do it either. Your center isn't too big, choosing to cater to families that can pass their criteria, which means there aren't many other staff members that can cover for you. You knew they'd be down a teacher and they'd have to find someone to help out in your class while your assistant teacher takes over, so you can't imagine why they'd willingly put you on administrative leave. She lets out a sigh while rubbing at her temples.

"I don't really care about what you do in your personal life, but something has been brought to my attention, by way of news reporters calling in to ask about you and your supposed affair with the father of one of your students." Your eyes widen at this new information, it had never crossed your mind that what Emi was saying online could affect your job considering you know they're false allegations. "It's not true! I didn't have an affair with one of my student's parents. Sure I am dating a student's father but he is very much single! I would never think of dating someone who was taken!" You start to panic, wanting to defend yourself.

She raises a hand to stop your outburst. "I know it's not true. I'm the one that interviewed Sakusa-san, remember? He was very adamant about being a single father and had told me about how Kimiko's mother had left them when she was still young. So I know that the allegations are false. But you have to understand, until these rumors die down, I won't stop getting calls from news outlets and you know how disruptive that'll be. The last thing I want is for them to stand outside and start harassing our parents. I'm just thinking about what would be good for everyone." She says, her tone softening when she looks at you.

You nod along to what she's saying because you know she's right. With Emiko and Kiyoomi's status you wouldn't be surprised if there were news reporters outside right now. "How long do you think I'll be put on leave?" You question, finally coming to terms with what you'd been told. "Let's go with a week for now. If we need to extend it, I'll let you know. And don't be sad. Just think of it as a paid vacation, alright? You rarely take days off anyway. It'll do you good to just relax." She says encouragingly, trying to make you feel better. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for causing so much trouble Okumura-san." You say as you move to stand up. She shakes her head. "Non-sense. You can't help that the man your seeing has an ex that likes attention." She replies as you make for the door. "Don't think too much about it, just enjoy yourself!" She calls out to you as you wave goodbye to her and exit the room.

Well how are we feeling y'all? Looks like this is affecting work too. Idk if our faves will like that.

Stay tuned for the next chapter because it's going to get fun. 😊

As usual, let me know what you think, by leaving a comment or sending an ask!

I have 2 spots on the taglist if anyone wants to be added. Lol.

Taglist: @taelia15 @thathoneybee3 @dorkange @sexyandcringe @szeonn @natriae @whore-for-anime @diestheticu @loveinhaikyuu @youraggedybitch @mikk-o @erenisms @minimalisticstyle @qualitygiantshoepsychic @akisrandom @confusion-lord @aikochan4859 @speakfrenchbetweenmythighs @trashy-simp @somniari-94 @pillboxmb @astrrnmy @all-in-the-fandoms @mattsunnn @moonxma @daninaninani @juniorhooter @crayonwriting @beans-and-jeanes @hanabihwa @van-chii @sosiegate @grassbutneo @saaraunicorn @lalalemon101 @sunahyejin @princessatoru @sugusshi @roselleviennesstuff @queen-aria-things @hello0i @oopskashish @wolffmaiden @shakesqueer444 @julia-1901 @blkladyelle @marinarihearts @oikawas-toris @carlgrimm @zekeslefttit

#sakusa x reader #hq smau #smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!! #girl of my dreams #gomd

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr evershed x teen!reader - family isn’t always blood

Part 2:

Sitting in the staff room, you had your files rested in your folded legs, and you were correcting a few things with a pen.

The door was opened, and you flicked your gaze up to see a few teachers coming in, but they kept their distance from you.

You paid them no mind, setting one of your files down.

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up as Julie came in.

“Sebastian is here to talk about the meeting he held at the American boarding school last night.”

You nodded, closing your file and you gathered everything, making your way to the office with her.

Stepping inside, you set the files in the table, turning to the heavily tattooed man who was stood there with his arms crossed, looking at Ms Carter.

“Sebastian that is quite enough.”

He turned to you, grinning a little bit.

“Well hey boss, it’s been a while.”

You hummed, sitting down in the sofa and he dragged a chair over so he could sit in front of you.

“I’m busy, what do you want?”

“Well, due to new laws coming into force in America we’ve come to conclusion it isn’t safe for us to keep the school open any more. We’ve explored the option of transferring the students to other sites.”

“I see, have you given thought as to how this will work?”

“Yup, we’ll separate them by classification, the elite students will come here to study with the rest of the elites, the summoners to France, and so on. To learn with people and teachers who hold similar powers.”

He held his hand out, a small fire bringing a file into the palm of his hand and he handed it over to you.

You took it, looking through the listing of students and where they would go to carry on their studies.

“Even the council agree this is the best course of action, but of course we need your approval before we make anything happen. The council would also like your input on whether we’re safe to stay based in America or if we should contact everybody and assist in moving to safer locations.”

“Leave it with me, I’ll be in contact when I’ve reached a conclusion I would like to gather all the facts before I make a choice.”

He grinned a little bit.

“I expect nothing less.”

“As for now keep the students on lockdown, inform families to move to safer locations, or if need be to the school.”

“You got it, thanks.”

He got up, giving you a mock salute before he vanished from sight.

With a heavy sigh, you set the folder down, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Julie please get the council to send over everything they have so far as I can review it.”

“Of course.”

She left and you got up, walking to the filing cabinet to put the files away that you had previously gotten out.

You turned around to see Ms Carter looking at you.

“You have question, ask them. You will not learn anything about us if you don’t ask.”

“How do you manage?” She asked.

You furrowed your brows slightly.

“Elaborate.”

“I mean come on, managing a school as an adult? That’s hard enough. I can’t even imagine running multiple schools at your age.”

You slowly nodded your head, walking back over to the sofa so you could sit down and properly go through the new file.

“However old you may think I am Ms Carter I can assure you that I am much older. Running a school for mutants is very different to running a school such as this.”

“Can I ask what makes it so different?”

You looked at her, setting the file down.

“Handling teenagers is hard, they have no patience or interest in learning, they’re still learning how to be adults themselves while wanting to have fun. Now, when you add a mutation into that mix, whatever that mutation will be, they have to learn to grow up a lot faster than normal. They need to learn about that mutation, learn about where it comes from, how to control it, its limitations, things like this.”

She nodded her head.

“It is why we follow strict procedures and regulations when it comes to teaching the students at MTA, they must be prepared for a world that will not accept them for who they are, and they must be ready for the final exam which will determine whether or not they’ll be allowed to life a normal life or not.”

“What happens if they can’t?”

“They’ll be confined to a life in one of the world’s most secure facilities.”

“A prison? They’re just children.”

“It does not matter, if the governments deem them a danger, that’s where they’ll go. Some will have the ability to retake this test, but it’s rare they’ll be allowed out after that. Now, don’t get me wrong, unless they’re convicted of a crime this is not a bad place, they’ll be offered work, a salary, food, things like this to life a semi normal life.”

“That’s not fair.”

You shrugged a little bit, picking up the file again.

“Life is not fair.”

Ms Carter watched as you read through the file, and she turned back to her own work.

The room went silent as you both worked on whatever it is that you needed to do.

When the bell went again to signal the end of lunch you stood up, making your way into the now empty hallways.

You flicked to another paper, pausing to read through the list of other MTA schools, and you began marking which ones were for which students.

Closing the folder, you held it under your arm and rolled up your sleeve so that you could look at your watch before you went to your classroom.

Setting the file in the draw if your desk you closed it again, taking your jacket you pulled it on as you made your way outside.

Your students were on the field, practicing how to summon their familiars.

“How are they doing Yato?”

The man looked at you, clasping his hands behind his back as he turned to the students.

“They have the basic technique down, only a few have manage to harness the power to summon their familiars however.”

You nodded your head.

“As elites they should be able to control every aspect of being a mutant, from summoning to illusion.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Yes, but with the changes of conjoining with a normal school they are distracted, a few of them are having issues with some of the students from the school.”

“They’ll have to accept these changes as it’s out of our hands.”

Yato glanced down at you.

“You could have refused.”

“Perhaps I could have, but either way they need to learn that they are not better than normal people, we are all the same. They’re not going to learn that by being kept separated.”

“You know I’ve never questioned you before, but I have to ask (Y/N), are you sure this is the right way to go about this?”

You turned a little so you could look up at Yato.

“Do you think there is a mistake being made here?”

He gave a half shrug.

“Perhaps we should reconsider merging with this school, we have the capacity to open a new school for our own students.”

“You’re correct, we do. But this world is changing Yato, ordinary people and mutants are drifting further and further away through miscommunication, I would think we can change that but merging the next generation together, let them see they are really no different.”

He nodded his head.

“Very well, I trust your judgement.”

You turned back to the student.

“Have them focus on connecting their energy with the vail, that’ll enable them to call out to a familiar.”

With that you left, heading back to your classroom and you sat down at the desk to go through some test papers.

There was a knock on the door and you looked over to see Mr Evershed standing there.

“Oh, I was actually hoping to find Julie or Ben.”

“What does this regard?”

He walked over, setting some papers down.

“I had MTA do a test paper, the majority of the students never attempted the paper.”

You took them, flicking through them.

“I see, this is unacceptable behaviour, but you must understand your classes are not normally what they would learn, so perhaps they feel slightly lost on what to do.”

“What do you suggest I do? You know these students better than any other teacher, and I know a few of the others are having the same problem.”

“I will have a word with them, but perhaps after school sessions won’t go a miss if you have the time, if not you can pass the work along to Lilly, she runs the dormitory and can hold the sessions there.”

He took a chair, bribing it over to your desk and sat down.

“I could manage once a week if that will help.”

You nodded, writing down the list of students you were going to make retake the test.

“You have to see these students are ordinary people Mr Evershed.”

He sighed.

“I know, it’s easier said than done, a lot of people are here are on edge.”

“You are all scared because you know nothing about mutants, you know the lies that were spread to you over the years.”

You looked at him, leaning back in your chair as you grabbed your cup, taking a sip of tea.

“I respect perhaps you are not comfortable conversing with somebody who appears as young as me as you would one of your colleagues, but if you have any questions about my students I am perhaps the most qualified person to answer these.”

He nodded his head.

“Thank you for being patient. Maybe with the extra hour the students stay after school has finished we can arrange something for extra core lessons?”

“Yes, I can arrange that.”

He smiled at you.

“Thank you, I think it would help them a lot.”

You nodded your head, setting your cup down as you turned your attention back to your work.

He got up and left, and you began lesson plans for the next week.

You had back to back meetings that for the next week, so you weren’t around much, but when you came back you were straight back to work.

You knew the teachers of Ackley didn’t exactly take well to you being part of the staff, most of the time they went over your head, going to one of your colleagues instead of you if there was an issue.

You didn’t bother trying to correct this behaviour, you were in the process of moving another handful of students into the school and getting them settled.

You didn’t have time trying to correct the ego of teachers who clearly didn’t care enough to learn anything new.

You were stood in the canteen, hands clasped behind your back as you overlooked your students.

“Hey teach!?” A student called.

“Yes?”

You looked after at him.

“Can we go outside?”

You nodded, gesturing to the door.

“Yes, just remember to come inside for your next class.”

A few students ran outside, and you glanced down the hallway to make sure the others were behaving.

You recognised the familiar grinning face walking down and you sighed, going to meet him halfway.

“We’ll go elsewhere, follow me.”

You led him down the hallways towards the office, and you opened the door to let him inside.

“Sorry Mr Evershed, we just need a quiet space to go.”

“That’s fine, I can leave if you want.”

You shook your head, gesturing for him to sit back down as you sat on the sofa with Sebastian.

“The council need a decision (Y/N).” He said.

“Tell them to move everybody, I’ve already made the preparations, I’ve sent them over. It’s safer for them to be moved.”

“Alright, I’ll give the green light.”

He got up, disappearing from the room.

“The council?” Mr Evershed asked.

You looked over.

“They are a small group of older mutants who deal with the whole mutant population.”

“Including you?”

You shook your head.

“No. The council have no say when it comes to me, in fact, I tell them what to do. People go to them for help, if they cannot help they refer the matter to me.”

“Can I ask why?”

You gave a half nod.

“Yes, you can. I am one person, as the CEO of MTA I am responsible for bringing up and training the next generation of mutants, I simply do not have the time to organise everything or deal with problems everybody has. The more important ones come to me.”

“Everybody is okay with the council dealing with them? Even if the question was meant for you?”

“I trained them myself, every solution they give will be carefully thought out and be decided as the best course of action.”

“Don’t you want to spend time just being a teenager?”

You leant back in your seat.

“No, I passed my teenage years many years ago. I do not have time for trivial things such as parties or day out.”

“How old are you?”

You stood up, brushing a hand down your suit as you made your way to the door.

“I am older than you could guess.”

With that, you left and Mr Evershed watched as the door closed.

Whenever it came to asking questions about mutants or your students you were more than ready to answer but when it came to any question about you, you turned your answer into cryptic responses.

You never gave a direct answer, and nobody else would offer any help with it.

You were shrouded in mystery, and you seemed to make it an active choice to keep any information about yourself a secret.

Mr Evershed wondered about you, why did you appear as a teenager if you were older than you actually looked?

Was it a choice you made?

Was it something else?

He didn’t know, but he wanted to know.

Because he felt like there was a reason behind it, because nobody would willingly keep the appearance of a teenager, especially not you, because you were quick to remind people you were old, so he had a feeling it wasn’t by choice.

Right now all he had to go on was small things he picked up along the way, and if he wanted to understand mutants, help them learn, he felt like his first point of call was to earn your trust

#Ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr evershed #mr evershed imagine #mr evershed x you #mr evershed x reader

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Picdrop podcast - with Jens Koch (2019)

with a big thank you to @struwwelzeter for finding the link, an (imo) very interesting podcast with Jens Koch on his work, being in prison in Iran for a few months and working with his idols, Rammstein.

The podcast host is Andreas Chudowski, himself also a photographer (mostly of politicians etc), who in each episode invites a colleague who works in a specific 'niche' of the photography business. Jens is listed as celebrity photographer, and indeed agrees that is his niche and that what he loves to do: meet celebrities and make pretty photos 🌺

Celebrities

Around 0h20 the conversation moves to 'who was nice to work with and who wasn't', Jens mentions Lady Gaga as someone who was really nice to work with, she was very interested in the shoot etc, Pamela Anderson was a bit more work, demanding a specific lighting setup, which Jens' dad made at home (because he likes to tinker with equipment), then when Pamela saw the light she almost stormed out again, fortunately a shoot happened, but Pamela demanded to see the photos right after and deleted a few pictures herself without hesitation (fortunately Pamela didn't know there is revovery software for deleted photos, and the one that is currently shown in Jens' portfolio of her is one she hasn't approved 😇) but in general that wasn't a bad shoot either. Jens mentions the worst experiences were the ones of which we don't know he did a shoot with, because the photos never worked out or never happened.

He has one male US celebrity who he can think of as having done a shoot, but not liking the experience, but he doesn't want to name him, the person is generally regarded a ladies' favorite (Jens doesn't understand why). interviewer: George Clooney? Jens: no, he is out of my league. I: Brad Pitt then? Jens: no, haven't photographed him either. Then the interviewer gives up because those are the only two US celebs he can think of; in the rest of the podcast the name Brad Pitt is mentioned more often, but this is always in the context of 'some person that wasn't easy to work with, and whose name we don't know, so we'll just call him Brad Pitt, though it isn't Brad Pitt'.

Somewhere at the first part he mentions he's not really a women's photographer, but still has some good experiences. Not Angela Merkel though..both guys agree that she is pretty difficult to photograph, always the same pose, and she doesn't really like to have her picture taken, but knows it's part of her job (well, was at the time) so she goes along with it, but after a few pictures, always says 'we're done now, right'? Jens mentions he admires Andreas Muehe's set of photographs of Angela, he took a very original approach and that worked really well.

How did he become a photographer

How did Jens get into the photography business, did he start, like so many, as an assistant to another photographer? No, he is a self made man, he always admired the glossy photos in US magazines, started making photos in Cologne for a magazine as freelancer, coming in in the morning with several others, hoping there would be an assignment. Then the cards with assignments for that day would be handed out, each photographer got one, did the shoot, and hoped it would be good enough to get in the magazine and get paid. He never was an assistant (0h36) and thinks that that worked out fine, because you often see that assistants learn photography only in the way their 'teacher' did it, and you can tell from their style.

From that he got more assignments, got called by other magazines to do shoots as well. Typically his clients are magazines like Bild or Focus who do an interview with a celebrity, Jens is asked to do the 'interview photo', and he always tries to get the celebrity to do a portrait photo as well. This means that he often doesn't have much time with the celebrity, not even always an assistant with him, and he needs to make sure the celebrity is in a good mood, engaged, willing to being photographed. If the interview is in a hotelroom, he often sets up his stuff in a separate room that he hires for the day, and the celeb ('promi' in german) just pops in and out. One of the secrets to keeping them engaged is do your homework, work out what they like and talk to them about that. Find music they like and put that on, so the celeb enjoys the experience. It doesn't always work out, but many times it does.

And sometimes, like with David Hasselhoff, who to Jens has always been a big celebrity (Jens being born in East-Germany, in Leipzig (1981), and David Hasselhoff was huge in Germany in his youth), he is basically always 'on'. Both photographers muse that he basically became the persona that we see in the photographs, and now is that way away from the spotlight or the camera lense too.

Apart from his freelance work for interviews he also has a studio now where he chooses himself who to shoot. But the magazine work has always been how he really became known in the business. Nowadays though, celebs and their PR people hire photographers themselves, do a promo-shoot at home, and those photographs are then distributed to magazines to use, so the interview-photography almost doesn't happen anymore.

Iran

At 1h19 the conversation turns to an episode that surprised the interviewer when he was doing his research on Jens, and he asked Jens if it was okay to talk about it: in 2010 Jens and his colleague went for an interview to Iran, were arrested and spend 4 months in jail there. They were going for a serious interview, Jens tagged along because he wanted to do something different for a change. Jens says it was the biggest mistake he made in his life, and they pretty much knew that it was, even when they started their journey. What happened was that as a journalist you need a special journalist-visa to work in Iran. They applied for it and didn't get it. And then they decided to just go anyway. Well while they were doing the interview, the police came in, asked for their visa, and they didn't have it...and then they were locked up. Surprisingly Jens says "It wasn't as bad as you would think", which throws the interviewer off a bit, because he was thinking it would be a life-altering experience, making you want to work with Amnesty International and similar, and wonders if this is a coping mechanism for Jens or if he really moved on. Jens agrees that it may be a coping mechanism to say that, but that he also realises he didn't have as bad an experience as you might think when you hear stories of political prisoners. They were given good food, were treated decently and were comfortable, yes ofcourse they were still locked up and not allowed to go where they wanted, but they just got on with it. And then one day they were told to pack their things and it turned out a German politician was there to pick them up, and only a few hours later he was back in Prenzlauer Berg, going shopping. The interviewer tries to get psychological about it, but Jens doesn't really 'bite', Jens says he's probably too shallow for the deep thoughts (interviewer interjects with "i didn't say that" Jens "no, but i did, because i am"), and he just looks at the nice things in life. You really get a feeling that for Jens it really isn't a topic anymore.

Rammstein

At 1h39 they come to another big theme: Rammstein. Jens was a life long fan of the band. Living in Berlin-Prenzlauer Berg, where many of the band live too, he had obviously seen them out on the streets, but never spoken to them in a 'Never meet your heroes, because it can only disappoint' kind of way. But when he was asked in an interview a few years back who he really wanted to phtograph one day he said "Till Lindemann of Rammstein". Well as it so happened, he got a call from a friend of his who said "You know what, I'm involved in a video with Rammstein". And Jens was like "you have got to get me in there", so Jens said to the video team that he happened to be in South-Africa (which was no coincidence ofcourse), and if he could come over to do a few pics (think even for free). So that happened, and he did more than a few pics. From that his name got from the video team to band management, and a little later Rolling Stone called about wanting to do a dual cover with Rammstein, white and black. Jens would have been totally happy to do just an interview photo for them (Rolling Stone is normally not one of his clients), but they offered the cover shoot, so obviously he took it. And then he got to do a bigger shoot even, and thought up several setups (for instance one where the band were all holding a puppy). As a fan Jens obviously knew Olaf Heine's work (1h50) with Rammstein, but wanted to do different things. And the band were very lovable ('allerliebst') east-guys (although Jens and the interviewer, both from the east, agree it shouldn't really make a difference being from west or east, the both agree it still does), very easy to work with. And then they called asking if he wanted to do the tour photography for them. At the time of the interview the 2019 European tour has just finished. As a fan Jens had bought tickets to go to the shows in Berlin anyway, but now he got to shoot all the concerts, he only had time off at the last show, because the band didn't want that photographed, and that was the first time he really got to see the show 🌺

Words of wisdom

This being a photographer podcast, the guest is always asked if he had tips for listeners. Jens has to think a bit about that, because he got where he got by working hard and taking opportunities, but he concludes with "Be nice to people, and maintain a good relationships with your contacts, the people you meet and work with". 🌺

#podcasts #picdrop #jens koch #rammstein

[backpocketkazoo]

okay so if you still do monokuma headcanons, i'm gonna request sum..

As you know Monokuma is the headmaster of the school so what if he had an s/o who is the assistant director of the school?! Also if you want, you can make the s/o chaotic as well

🤍Monokuma x Assistant Director! Reader🖤

OFC <33 sorry it took so long to get to!!! <33

🖤Listen, Monokuma may be the "headmaster" but we all know who's really keeping this place afloat.

🤍Without you, Hope's Peak would've been done for the moment Monokuma proclaimed himself headmaster.

🖤That being said, Monokuma leaves you with the real work while he goes to goof off and/or harass the students.

🤍"Awww but you're so good at your job (Y/nnn). Plus you look so cute while doing it~" – Monokuma, at some point, probably.

🖤He LOVES teasing you okay?

🤍The students likely don't know much about you. Monokuma's the show. Not you. You're behind the scenes busy making sure everything's running smoothly.

🖤Of course, the student's opinions of you depends on your persona and the person. The more open you are the more they're gonna trust you & the more closed off the more suspicious. I'm sure you get it..

🤍At one point the student's wrongly convict you of being the mastermind. They think you get paid enough for that? Monokuma made them assemble in the gym and yelled at them. Probably saying how offended and hurt he was that they even accuse you of such a thing. They got sent to bed early that night.

-> Thinking of it in the sense of teachers sitting on their desk saying, "NEVER in my 30 years of teaching has a sub left such a bad note."

-> Neither of you actually cared ab the accusation, it was amusing at best.

-> Hell WOULD be raised, however, if someone got physical with you. If there wasn't a rule against it before, there definitely would be.

-> But afterwards you got to hang out with Monokuma without having to be worried ab any prying students. He was probably looking for an excuse to get rid of the students for a night anyways.

-> And we can't forget the secret teacher/teacher relationship (ugh <3)

#monokuma x reader #obsessed w the crazy bastard x keeps them in check dynamic #the dynamic ever..

[kerink]

#or janet if its gonna be malicious and cold

sorry christ im still thinking about if janet narrated carlos' backstory ala a story about you. imagine it was like... just her research log explaining how her team came to night vale and how all their research was based on the risk professor lastname took on hunting down an urban legend. about what he was like as a teacher, his history with the uowii, how he was able to convince administration to let him go on sabbatical and fund this nonsense project. about how he and his entire team went missing, how there were rumors he skipped town with the money and paid his team off. except then the papers started coming in. about all the research findings he sent in the university admin overseeing his project, about how it looked like he'd lost his mind. about how he never seemed to reply when they emailed him and calls never went through. the times they DID get a reply it was nonsensical and it wasn't until a bored grad student looked into the log that they realized sometimes what seemed like nonsense was carlos replying to emails before they were sent. about how the university sent dr kayyali and her assistants to hunt him down and bring him home. save him from whatever was going on. about how they found a town right where carlos said there would be (and no map or website or census would confirm) and a man who claimed to know him, about how the town reacted with violence and ran dr kayyali and her assistants out. about how the emails from carlos stopped. lubelle talking about how her team was formed, larger and heavily armed, there to finish the fascinating work carlos had started and also to make good on dr kayyali's promise

she told me that if this is how our town treats outsiders, then Carlos is in more danger than she thought. I told her that Carlos wasn’t treated that way, that he was well-loved by everyone and especially loved by someone and she said, sure, sure, but she didn’t sound like she believed it, and then she said that there was much she needed to do but that they would make sure Carlos found his way to safety

#wtnv

[arrivingonthescene]

most of dora's facts stemming from harry's dream version of her, or jean who's only ever heard harry shitting on her, makes it hard to figure out what she's like. i get that's the point but i'm so curious. would she really think he's a poverty-stricken fuck if they lived in that matchbox with fleeting electricity if she wrote that letter that's so full of infatuation? her parents paid for their life and harry's RCM training but for how long? was she still an arts academic? obviously at some point the last straw on the mountain of straws made it fizzle into nothingness but... idk i can't help but feel the letter & dream-dora stating she fell in love with harry at first sight from how Cool he was, being a form of worship on her part too, an innocent version. "I wanted you to be the rest of my life that day." and along the years that worship tipped over to a detrimental degree on harry's side. and even the dream version of her who spits back the things most likely said durimg arguments, goes from frustration to pity to wistfulness, but what made it sadder to me was how long the phone call can go on for. dream-dora says she moved on so bluntly and lists all the things she dislikes about him, but phone-dora's patience shined through even when harry's saying shitty stuff to her. she could have just hung up immediately and never pick up again the first time he rings her

so going off this, the following are personal headcanons

i imagine she dated harry in an act of rebellion, harry joined the RCM to increase his Cool Factor from high school gym teacher to badass superstar cop (i think the game says she pushed him towards it but i view this via harry-lens where she is a God who caused everything) and along the way as he deteriorated it brcame kind of sunk-cost. along the way she became pregnant, and maybe when the old harry shimmered through she thought they could make it work, but reality hit and she terminated it. i honestly feel like she'd do so alone. and now i wonder if she had any friends or if dating harry made her isolated. did anyone support her leaving him? i'd imagine her parents were thrilled to hear it.

from how open harry is about his thought processes, and how painful it is to him to hear dream-dora demean them, i felt that real-dora could have apreciated them during their good days. i imagine anyone harry knows that intimately who also supports all his voices and brain compartmentalization can easily become someone he worships because of how rare that'd be for him. because how else would he be with her for that long if she hated those parts of him right off the bat? like, all these acts of humanity made him raise her higher and higher until she reached a status she could never act out, she is not perfect, she's just a person, she is a person i'm suddenly so interested in. during harry's fledgeling RCM days i bet she asked tk hear how mr. law brought justice but it quickly became apparent that, not only were the tales depressing, he was throwing himself into work so hard. married to the job. dora having to sell her collected art pieces to get by. and one day harry asks to sell one that's extremely precious to her and that's when she put her foot down and asked her parents for assistance. maybe it was a figurine. time went on as RCM life consumed him, and harry forgot what made dora tick but he never forgets the fact that she loves figurines

more tame but, harry having art cop as one of his copotypes, what if he picked up that notion to impress her? i don't know if she'd teach him art critique herself but like. so much of harry's personality is bending himself every which way to impress someone. i mean i can kind of see how that'd be an addicting person to date knowing he and dora broke up and got back together before. tripping over himself a hundred million times to impress her or win her back. i know for a fact the 'i have a vast soul' thoughts harry can express are him internalizing things she said about him

it could have been easy for the writing to demonize her but it was so apparent that it's harry's twisted view. god the writing of this game. picking out parts of who dora is from inside harry's imprints in the world.

#text #dora ingerlund #this is written for a dora perspective im aware of my wording when it comes to harry Sounding like that but i cant condense shit