#it's hard to choose just five moments when you love everything she does on the ice

[bishopsbeloved]

the art of falling in love (part two)

natasha romanoff x fem reader (high school au)

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

part one | part two (7.3k words) | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

read this fic on ao3!

A good few months have passed, now, since that night in the laundry closet. The harsh Ohio winter begins to melt away to a much more gentle spring, and as the world around you blossoms, so do the relations between you and Natasha.

They remain secret, of course. The novelty of sneaking around has not yet worn off, and so for now whatever is blooming between the two of you remains concealed in a cloak of deceit. You can’t help but feel a little guilty for lying to Yelena, your best friend in the entire world, but the blonde doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Whenever Nat can tell it’s bugging you, she does her best to calm you down, pressing kisses to the places that she knows will make you forget everything except her. Pretending in front of others is hard, acting as though everything’s the same as it was before and as though the absolute love of your life doesn’t send you good morning and goodnight texts, but it’s made absolutely worth it by the attention she does give you when you’re alone.

It’s nearly four months in, now, and you’re still struggling to believe she’s choosing to do things with you. You — her gangly little sister’s scrawny best friend. There’s no doubt in the fact that she could have anyone at your school, senior or otherwise, and the fact that she has chosen you over everyone else in the world quite often makes your head spin, and you have to drop what you’re doing and go and touch her just to remind yourself that this is reality. You’ve wanted this for so long, since you were able to understand what loving someone in this capacity means, and her reciprocation is quite literally incomprehensible to you.

Well… maybe reciprocation is a slight leap. Even though she’s the one who kissed you first, who instigated this whole relationship, she becomes a little flighty whenever you bring up anything more serious — taking her out on a date, or talking about what will happen between the two of you after she graduates. It stings a little (a lot) to think that you might just be a secret for her, someone she would be embarrassed to be seen in public with. That’s been your number one fear since the moment you were sentient enough to comprehend your feelings for her; the crippling fear that you’re not good enough for her. Her, the perfect popular cheerleader and you, who’s decidedly not that. Every moment that you remain a secret is like a constant reminder that those fears are true. The fact that this might be true and that she is ashamed of her relations with you is something you’ve trained yourself to not think about because you start to get all twitchy if you do.

So that’s how it stays. You try to shut off your mind and keep sneaking around with Natasha, trying not to think of the future or of the day that she will inevitably toss you away like a toy she’s no longer interested in, and trying to enjoy the fact that she sees you as worthy enough of any attention at all.

Right now, it’s the last day of school before spring break — and to celebrate, the Starks are throwing a party tonight at their McMansion. It’s all anyone has been talking about since Tony stood up on a lunch table in the cafeteria and announced it himself last week. You were there for the announcement, sat at your usual table tucked away in the corner with your group of friends. It’s a small posse, but you’re very close-knit; consisting only of Darcy Lewis, Wanda Maximoff, Makkari Eternal, Yelena Belova (of course), and you by extension (you’re often teased by the others that you’re attached at the hip, and it’s true, in many ways). As soon as Tony stepped down from his makeshift podium, the whole cafeteria erupted into noise, and Darcy began to excitedly plan who she would ask to go with her.

Your stomach turned involuntarily at the thought of pretending that you’re available, and tolerating your friends’ (mostly Darcy’s) matchmaking attempts for the millionth time. Before you could even stop yourself, you found your gaze wandering to Natasha on the other side of the cafeteria, where she sat with her own (decidedly larger) group of friends. To your surprise you found her already looking at you wistfully. The two of you shared eye contact for a moment, something oddly intimate for such a public setting. At least you could take some form of comfort in the fact that you weren’t the only one in this relationship uncomfortable in pretending you aren’t accounted for.

“Earth to Y/N,” Darcy hums loudly, and you blink as she snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Welcome back, space cadet. We’re talking about —”

“The party,” you finish for her tiredly. You weren’t planning to go at all, but Darcy’s coerced you into it, promising you’ll only have to stay a couple hours. You didn’t have the energy to fight with her, lord knows how insistent she can be, so you ended up giving in — on the condition that she wouldn’t set you up with anyone tonight. She just grins at you though, seemingly amused by your determined lack of enthusiasm.

Darcy is trying to pair us all off with someone, Makkari informs you long-sufferingly. How unpredictable. (Sometimes you forget that most of the people your age haven’t been hopelessly in love for all of their lives, and actually enjoy putting themselves out there, while not feeling awfully guilty that they’re betraying someone.)

“And Makkari was next on the list!” Darcy signs and speaks, so that Wanda (whose nose is buried in a cloth-bound book) can still hear what’s going on. “You and Druig would be cute together, I think.”

The visceral disgust on Makkari’s face is so intense that Yelena bursts out laughing.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious,” Darcy complains, even though she’s smiling too.

That is revolting, Makkari tells her with feeling . That man is… a brother to me. And I’ve been told he’s a shit kisser anyway.

“He can learn,” Darcy replies with confidence. Makkari performs a very rude and elaborate gesture. “Hmm, who next… Yelena, you got your eye on anyone?”

Yelena shakes her head vehemently. “No. No, thank you.”

That’s a lie, Makkari comments. I see you and — She fingerspells a name much too quickly for any of you to catch it, and you all lean forward in confusion. Makkari rolls her eyes and spells out the name again, slowly, and then even slower again at the blank looks on your faces. K—A—T—

“Kate Bishop,” supplies Wanda dryly, looking up from her book.

Thank you, Makkari says exasperatedly, while Darcy gasps, clapping her hands together in delight and Yelena’s jaw drops, her cheeks flooding with colour.

“Oh, that’s perfect, I totally see that,” Darcy gushes. “How long has that been going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” says Yelena defensively, “she is — we are partners in class, and she shares her snacks with me sometimes. We went to the mall once or twice. That is all.”

When Darcy stares back skeptically she presses her lips together tightly, leaning slightly into your shoulder. You slide a hand into your best friend’s hair, scratching at her scalp to calm her down, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. This isn’t the giddy behaviour of someone with a crush, you realise — this is genuine discomfort.

“Why are you just projecting onto us that you can’t find anyone to go to the party with, anyway,” you snort to Darcy, signing out the basics of that sentence with your one free hand (Makkari subtly nods to let you know she understood). Wanda snickers at that without even looking up from her book this time.

“Okay, ouch, not true,” Darcy narrows her eyes at you, “Thor Odinson asked me to save him a dance. Is that not the behaviour of someone who’s showing interest in me?”

Makkari snaps back with quick retort that you don’t catch, and Darcy gasps in faux insult, the two of them beginning a quick and fiery exchange. You look down at Yelena to see her already looking up at you, the corners of her eyes crinkled in silent gratitude. You wrinkle your nose at her, and brush the bangs out of her eyes before returning to your food. She stays nestled against your shoulder for the rest of lunch — the rest of which proceeds as normal.

Natasha has agreed to drive the both of you to the party, as naturally she will also be in attendance.

“On one condition,” she warns firmly, as you all sit down at the dinner table. “Neither of you get blackout drunk, okay? I won’t have too much since I’ve gotta drive you both back, but if either of you cannot support your own body weight I will literally leave you there. You can fend for yourselves.”

“Always so serious, Natasha,” Alexi chuckles as he folds rags covered in very pungent motor oil. “Loosen up, да? If the twins want to drink they can drink. Lord knows I did at their age.”

“Not at the dinner table, Alexi,” Melina scolds, slapping at his shoulder as she passes him on her way to the stove. “This is good wood, oil will ruin the varnish.”

“Also it smells like shit,” Yelena adds helpfully, promptly ducking to avoid the massive hand that attempts to cuff her reprimandingly round the back of the head. “What is it from? Don’t tell me you are working on that beast in the garage again.”

“The one and only,” Alexi says with glee, rubbing his hands together at everyone’s collective groans. “What is this about, ah? She will be beautiful once I have fixed her up. You will all love her, I know. I call her… Melina.” He says it in a hushed voice, full of wonder, which is promptly quashed when the real Melina just snorts in amusement.

“Very creative,” she quips dryly as she sets down a crockpot in the middle of the table.

“Oh, you laugh now,” Alexi grumbles, “but when we are in backseat you are never complaining.”

Melina laughs wholeheartedly at that, while you, Yelena and Natasha let out similarly horrified noises.

“I can’t eat,” Natasha announces, pushing her plate away dramatically, and you quickly follow suit.

By the time Natasha pulls up into Tony’s stadium-sized driveway, the sun is already dying in the sky, taking its last fiery breaths that paint the world a shadowy pink before dwindling below the horizon into nothingness.

“Remember what I said —” Nat starts.

“About drinking, yes, I remember,” Yelena finishes for her impatiently. “No throwing up on myself, promise. Can we go in now?”

“Well fuck you too,” Natasha retorts. “Be careful of drink spiking, don’t just take a drink that’s handed to you. There’ll be a lot of people here, Stark knows some… unsavoury individuals so just stick to people we know. And whenever you’re feeling like heading home, text me, or come find me, kay?”

“Okay,” says Yelena long-sufferingly, which earns her a twisted arm in response.

You’ve never actually been inside of the Stark household before — well, maybe household isn’t accurate, it’s a multi-million dollar property and easily the biggest building you’ve ever set foot in. Yelena looks around at the high ceilings and chandeliers with a similar element of awe, while Natasha gazes around bemusedly, what with this place being a regular sight for her.

“Romanoff and co, you made it,” Tony Stark himself cheers, swooping into the lobby with a box full of beers. “Drink, m’lady?”

“Driving,” Natasha grimaces.

“Ooh, unlucky. Probably for the best, though, I heard Barton conspiring to put something gross in the punch. He thinks he’s slick… I swear, that guy thinks everyone else is as deaf as he is.”

Nat snorts in amusement, sending you and Yelena one last glance before heading off to the kitchen with Stark. Yelena links her arm through yours, and the two of you head off into the thick mass of people, on a quest to find your friends.

This task proves difficult. Half an hour in, you’ve wandered quite a few of the Stark Mansion’s impressive number of halls without a single member joining your party. You return to the main area, choosing to settle in a corner near a table covered by very expensive-looking vases, and Yelena disappears briefly to fetch you both some drinks. You don’t notice much what it is, you’re just grateful for the cool relief it provides.

“Oh look, it’s Kate Bishop,” you say absently as you spot her over at the chocolate fountain (now is not the time to question the presence of a chocolate fountain, you decide) next to America Chavez. You made the remark without thinking, knowing that Kate is one of the people Yelena likes to see (“she is like a puppy,” Lena said to you once, “all squishy and bouncy and eager to please. Fun to spend time with”), but you remember what happened at lunch today and tense, looking at her to gauge a reaction. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Yelena plays it off well, sipping from her drink to avoid replying any further.

Your hand hovers tentatively for a moment before resting on her shoulder. “Y… you know that if, well, anything, you can tell me, right? I won’t… make fun of you. I like talking with you. Just, uh. Just so you know.”

She looks down at you for a moment, gaze darting from the hand on her shoulder to your eyes. You stare back to her with uncertainty, but a desperation to reassert that you care. She observes you for a moment, long and hard, and you daren’t look away.

Then she gives you a short, sharp, singular nod, and downs the rest of her drink in one.

“I know,” she says curtly. “I will go say hi to her. Come find me later.”

She pats your head with a gentleness that one wouldn’t expect from a tall threatening Russian, to let you know she’s not mad, and you watch her go serenely. You’ve known Yelena for all of your life. She doesn’t say things, she does things. Talking has never been her strong suit, especially in a language that isn’t her mothertongue; you have always been careful to respect her boundaries. You’d never expect her to do something she wasn’t ready for, you’ve always been patient with her and you’ll give her as much time as she needs on this one. You know with a calming certainty that she will talk to you when she’s ready, about whatever she’s feeling about Kate Bishop that’s confusing and hurting her. The fact that you can know your best friend, your twin flame with such assuredness (and she know your own behaviours in turn) is something that never fails to make you feel as though you’ve found your place in the world. You don’t know what you’d do without her. She is your family (and the thought of you betraying her so in sneaking around with your sister is like a knife through your guts, so you’ve very quickly learnt to simply not think about it at all). 

But this feeling of otherworldly serenity is shattered as soon as you turn to leave and explore. Your eyes land upon the sight of Natasha dancing with Bucky Barnes, and it makes your blood run cold.

To be fair, it’s not as though they’re the only two on the dancefloor; most of their friendship group are stood in fairly close proximity to one another. But these two have clearly paired up for this song (Nelly Furtado, you think, but you don’t care enough to figure it out), with their arms around one another, and Barnes whirling her around when the beat drops. The way she’s smiling at him, as though she wants do the things with him that she does with you, makes you feel so ill that you have to look away for genuine fear of being sick right here on this dancefloor.

Feeling like this is an overreaction, you rationalise desperately to yourself, even as all the hairs on your arms begin to stand on end. The two of you aren’t exclusive — that much has been made clear by her insistence around avoiding the topic. And it’s just a dance, Bucky is a good friend of Natasha’s, it probably doesn’t even mean anything.

So why do you feel so gross?

You need a drink, you decide, stumbling off in the direction of the kitchen to overanalyse in peace.

You’re not sure how long has passed by the time Sam Wilson stumbles upon you, in a long dark narrow hall that weirdly reminds you of the Hogwarts bridge, one wall lined with gaping windows that look out on the rest of the house. You’re sat on the floor, wedged into a corner with your knees up to your chest and your back pressed against the wall, watching the party from a whole other dimension with a bottle beside you.

“Oh — hey, sorry, I was just on my way to the bathroom,” he laughs easily. “You gave me a fright there, all curled up in the dark like some horror movie shit.”

There’s a moment of silence, during which his eyes are presumably adjusting to the dark, before he speaks again. “You’re… Y/N, right? That kid Romanoff lives with?”

You press your lips together tightly at the mention of her name, but you nod. (Sam looks so funny where he’s stood in the distance, at the far end of this corridor, you think to yourself. Like a tiny matchstick guy you could put in a dollhouse.) Sam must see your response, because he continues, “thought so. Hey, what’re you doin up here all alone? Where’s Belova? You okay?”

You shrug. He dithers for a moment before slowly walking the hallway, approaching you as though you’re a wild animal that might scare at any moment. When you don’t, he slowly lowers himself onto the ground next to you.

“‘S loud down there,” he says after a moment. “Stark’s my bud and all, but his shit gets too much for me sometimes.”

You nod your agreement. You don’t know Sam well at all — you don’t recall ever speaking to him, he’s much more Natasha’s friend than your own — but there are definitely worse people who could choose to talk to you right now.

“That why you’re up there? All alone? Without your conjoined twin?” he adds, spirit light, a teasing smile on his face.

The corners of your lips twitch upward, and you speak at last, voice a little croaky from crying. “I guess. She went off with someone, I was trying to give them privacy.”

Sam hums, and nods in understanding. “Well if you’re not enjoying the party anymore we can get you home. I think Nat stayed sober tonight, or we can call you a taxi… put it on Stark’s card,” he adds mischievously, which earns a laugh from you.

“Yeah,” you rub at your eyes unceremoniously, “this party’s been a bust.”

“We’ll get you home, then,” he says gently. “Parties ain’t for everyone. Romanoff was looking for you, anyway.”

You freeze. “She was?”

“Yeah, think so. C’mon, let’s go.” He gets to his feet, offering you a hand, and very politely doesn’t comment when you have to lean on him a little on the journey back to the main hall.

“Alright. You sit tight, I’ll go find Romanoff.” He pats your shoulder before letting go of you, and wanders off.

You cast your vacant gaze around the party, simply looking rather than really seeing. With the state your brain is in it takes a few moments to process Yelena rushing across the dancefloor, head lowered and hair shrouding her face, with Kate hurrying after her, calling out. The haze that your somewhat intoxicated brain applies and the distance with which you’re watching from makes the scene look unreal, like something from a movie.

You bite the inside of your lip, hard, forcing yourself to pull it together, and discard the bottle you’re holding on a nearby table as you make your way over to Kate — who by this point has given up the fruitless chase and stands forlorn by the front door, staring out at Yelena’s quickly disappearing figure.

“Bishop,” you say, trying to keep your voice even, “what happened?”

She’s already nervous, you can tell, but when she sees you by her side her eyes go big as saucers. “Oh god. Hi. Hi, hi hi. Um, so, I don’t know.”

“I’m not gonna be mad at you, Bishop,” you say tiredly, “but I need to know what’s going on. She’s been acting weird all day, and when Makkari brought you up earlier I think she actually malfunctioned. What’s going on?”

Kate twitches instead of replying, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose between your forefingers. “Please just spit it out.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Kate maintains squeakily. “I thought we were good and we went to like some nice roses or something, I don’t know this place is massive it was like a garden I think, we sat on a bench and we were talking just normal talking it wasn’t even anything weird like we’ve talked about much weirder stuff! This was pretty tame! And she just like shut off and went all blank and marched out and I don’t know what I did,” she finishes lamely, with the trademark Bishop puppy dog eyes that Yelena has complained about to you.

You nod. “Okay. Uh, I’ll talk to her, you just… uh, get home safe. And text her, but don’t suffocate her, you know?”

Kate nods vigorously, stammering more  than you’ve ever heard someone stammer before. “Y— uhh, yep, alright, cool, perfect, got it. No… no suffocation. Nope. That would not be good. Uh, is double texting suffocation?”

“Double texting is like the maximum you can go before it’s asphyxiation,” you advise sagely, and she nods like one of those little dolls with a spring for a neck that you see in trucker lorries before scurrying off (she really is like a puppy, you muse to yourself as you recall Yelena’s words; an oversized, long-legged puppy).

“Alright,” you mutter, “where have you gone, Belova?”

When you turn around, it’s not Yelena that you’re faced with, but her sister. Well, it’s a start, at least.

“Nat,” you say, and your voice sounds like it’s very very far away and it doesn’t belong to you, “come on, we have to find… Yelena.” You reach out to grab her hand but she shakes away your touch, and your cheeks burn at the rejection and the realisation you’re in public. Of course she doesn’t want to touch you in public, you think to yourself, and the doubts from the hallway before Sam came and found you start creeping back and your head starts to hurt again.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asks, daring to place a hand on your shoulder as she leads you through the front door and down the driveway. “What’s wrong with Yelena?” She pauses, taking in your appearance for the first time all night under the light of the street lamps that line the long, linear driveway. “What’s wrong with you?”

You open and close your mouth a few times without making any sound, like a fish, searching for the words. Suddenly it feels as though the whole night is catching up on you, and you can’t really explain it but you’re not really you or in your body — it’s like you’re watching from someone else’s perspective, or reading about this experience instead of living it, and all of the thoughts seep out of your head. (Shit, maybe it’s a good thing you don’t drink that often.) Nat’s face softens slightly, and in the solitude of the front yard she’s gracious enough to loop an arm round your waist and guide you gently to somewhere you can rest for a minute; the stone pillars, to the corner of the front of the house.

“Deep breaths,” she urges you quietly, pinning you between a pillar and her body, both of your hands in hers and her face nestled in close against your shoulder, lips by your ear, safely hidden from prying eyes by the shadows of the pillars. You comply, in, out, in, out, until your body is yours again, and you can feel her breath on your cheek.

“I told you not to get shitfaced,” she tells you as she pulls away again enough to be able to look at you, but there’s no real anger in her voice, and her eyes are so soft and warm as they look down at you. Her hands are still in yours, grounding you, and you grip onto them tightly. “What’s going on? Where’s Thing 2?”

“Kate Bishop upset her,” you relay blearily. “She ran off, I was gonna find her, n go home.”

“And what happened to you?” she adds more gently, cupping your face in her hands.

“You,” you mumble, and then realise what you’ve said. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you quickly try to rectify, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean. I just meant… I’m sorry, sorry, I can’t do words, I didn’t mean that. Wanna go home.”

“It’s okay,” she says quietly, “but can we talk about it? What did I do to upset you tonight, huh? To make you get like this?” She moves one hand to prod gently at your chest to emphasise her last two words. 

You shake your head, normally at first, but the movement becomes more exaggerated as though you’re trying to clear your head of this fog. “N — nothing. God. Sorry. It was — me. Just, I just mis… misread the situation. Thought I was special. Was being dumb. Sorry. Can we,” you tug on her arm, “can we go home, I can’t think, my head really hurts.”

Her eyebrows are furrowed deeper than ever, glossy lips pushed together, but she nods — and then her head turns sharply in the direction of  the bushes. You turn too, instinctively, and see Yelena walking toward you. Her eyes lock onto yours for a moment, and you are filled with the most paralysing, existential dread. This is it, you think to yourself, this is how my life ends. But Yelena makes no move towards you, and you realise quickly that even though she can see someone’s hands on you, she can’t see who they belong to. Natasha has picked a place to stop so perfect that Yelena can’t see her from where she’s stood, and this realisation has you weak-kneed with relief. 

The two of you make eye contact for a moment, and despite your deep longing to have Natasha publicly be yours you’re overwhelmingly grateful in this moment that your tracks are somewhat covered . Lena’s gaze flits from yours to your hands, occupied by a shadow-faced stranger; her lips press into a thin line and her eyes fill with tears as she turns and trudges away again, disappearing into the night.

By the time you get home, she’s already there, in your bedroom getting ready for bed. Her tearstained face takes one look at yours, which is in a similar state after your car ride home with Natasha. While Yelena doesn’t say a word to you or Nat, she kisses your forehead before you both climb into your beds on the opposite sides of the room, so you know she’s not really mad. She just needs time, you know, and you’re very careful over the days that follow to give it to her.

Melina and Alexi are all too familiar with Yelena’s silent episodes. They come on whenever she’s processing something, and the only thing you can do to support her is wait patiently until she’s able to talk. Even though you’ve long since grown up, and nowadays can see the grey in a situation that was black and white when you were young, you still think of things in the very simple terms they had been presented to you in as a six-year-old.

“Why is Yelena quiet?” you asked Alexi. “I didn’t do anything.”

The giant man had sunk to his knees, wincing at the pop and crackle of his joints, to be on the same level as you, and took both of your tiny hands in one much larger one. “Uhh… ah. So you have to be very grown up, ah? да, смутьян? Yelena did not have same start in life as you, eh. Me and Melina are her parents, you know, we live here in Ohio with you,” he tickled your belly to punctuate your involvement in his story and you squirmed happily, “but we are not… giving birth to her, ah? Before we bring Yelena to Ohio, in fact before she is brought to orphanage, she is having another mom and dad. Who giving birth to her,” he explained to you in his usual broken English; he spoke with a level of thought and caution that you’d never seen before on the usually crude man.

“In Russia?” you queried.

“In Russia,” he confirmed. “The motherland, ey? So the mom and dad who giving birth to her, they aren’t very nice, ah. So Yelena’s… formative years, when she was baby and learned all the emotion things like cry when sad, smile when happy, she learned different, да? To protect herself. If cry, her old mom and dad get angry because of noise, so when sad she go all quiet and… spaced out and faraway instead. And even though now she is in place where we won’t be angry if she cry, it is still how she has learned things. So if something bad happen, she shut down. It is her way to cope. And you are probably thinking that it is strange, but we have to be gentle to her, okay?” he said encouragingly to you, and you nodded eagerly to this man who even then was like a father to you. “We are gentle, and show her we aren’t get angry when she sad, and when she ready she open up. Make clear we love her. It is big important task. We treat her with kindness when she go quiet, kay? Can you do that, trouble, eh?”

And of course you nodded seriously, because Yelena was your best friend, and you already knew you would do almost anything for her.

You understand a lot more, now, but you still think of it like that. It’s the way her brain works, it’s a result of her start in life — she can’t help it, it’s not her fault, and it would be beyond unfair to make her suffer for something so out of her control. So you barely leave her side in the days that follow, by her side in every mundane task she half-heartedly attempts, even clambering into her bed from your own on the dark drizzly morning where she can’t even peel herself from her own bed. You and Natasha haven’t spoken since that hellish car ride home, but for probably the first time ever the redhead is barely on your mind; you’d do anything for her, it’s true, but you’d do anything for her sister too. You knew it when you were six years old and seeing one of Lena’s silent episodes for the first time, and you know it more than ever now. This takes precedence.

Yelena doesn’t utter a word for six days, only nodding thanks and smiling at you with the corners of her eyes. On the morning of the seventh day, you wake up to her sat on your chest.

“Oh,” you wheeze, “good morning.”

And she smiles at you in reply, wheezy laughter bubbling in her chest at the way your limbs are splayed out awkwardly beneath her weight, and you can tell that she’s back.

She doesn’t tell you what had her spiralling until the evening, but you spend the whole day bouncing around the house with her as though you’re little kids again, and it fills you so wholeheartedly with joy to have your best friend back. She truly is like an extension of you, you don’t feel right when she’s not around, and you don’t feel right when she doesn’t, either. But she’s back, she’s talking and laughing again and it’s contagious. Whatever souls are made of, yours and hers are the same.

Right now the house is quiet, the lights are out and the two of you are sat on the windowsill, looking out at the stars.

“That one’s winking at us,” you whisper with a grin, pointing to a flickering star. You feel Yelena’s eyes on you, and turn to see her smiling softly at you, her eyes crinkling at the corners the way they only ever do when she’s trying to tell you that she’s grateful for something.

“There is a thing that is broken inside of me,” she tells you matter-of-factly. You blink, surprised, but nod encouragingly for her to keep going. “I don’t think I am like you or Darcy or Kate. And that doesn’t feel fair. I thought, it is always me, I just want to be normal. So I say okay, I will be normal, I ignore it and pretend it wasn’t there, and it only makes things go all funny and the world doesn’t make sense. It’s like one of those…”

She pauses for a moment to think. “Ah черт возьми, cannot find the words, you know those… visual — eye tricks? Illusions? At the museums, that are like art, and hurt your brain?”

“Optical illusions?” you offer.

“Yes. When I am pretending it is like looking at the world through optical illusions. Nothing is making sense, and it makes me so sick and sad and lonely. So I was pretending at the party, but it was like everything just…” She makes a boom noise with her mouth, and mimes an explosion. “I could not handle, no more, I thought why me, why don’t I have what everyone else has, what did I do wrong? And then I saw you, making kissy face with some girl —” your heart leaps, but she still doesn’t seem to know who it was, thank god “— and I just,” there are tears in her eyes that glisten with frustration, “and I just… wished it could be me. Not that I want to kiss you,” she adds hastily, “but I want to want it. It would make things so much easier.”

“You… wish you wanted to kiss me?” you ask carefully.

She nods furiously. “Maybe not you, we are Близнецы… that would be weird, probably. Just to… want any kissing. But I don’t. I don’t want to kiss you, or Kate Bishop, or anyone. There is none of that for me, it’s just not…” She gestures vaguely in the air, as though she is searching for something she does not have, and then shrugs. “Я потерян, I don’t know. Y/N, I am aroace,” she tells you proudly. “I did the research, it is me, it fits me perfectly. But I don’t… want to be. Not when everyone else, even you, is kissing people. You are my person, I don’t want to kiss you, but I want to… always be with you. But then I realised,” she gulps, and she’s fighting back tears again, “that’s not… how things work. And you are kissing other people — I don’t care who,” she adds as you open your mouth to interject, “I know it is not my business and you will say when you are ready, but we are growing up and I must do grownup things now and it’s scary. And Darcy is always asking me who I am crushing on and… it is hurting, a lot, to realise no one. Ever. And I’m okay with it, I don’t want it because I want it, I want it because if I don’t want it I’m wrong and it means there is something… wrong inside of me. And my brain is broken enough as it is,” she covers her face with her hands, “and I think I just lost the… hold on everything when the Kate Bishop kissed me.”

“She kissed you?”

“Mhm. And it was like the world ended, I could not handle it. Because I thought I was so good at pretending that I have this thing when I don’t, but I couldn’t tell that… she felt like that, when a normal person would have been able to tell. Darcy could. Makkari could. And I am just done pretending, I think, and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Her hands still cover her face, but after a few moments you catch her peering through the gaps between her fingers, anxiously trying to gauge a reaction from you. For a split second you see a scared child watching apprehensively through the slats of a staircase bannister, younger than you ever knew her, fearing someone who in this moment she does not know. When the fear is this primal, it is timeless, and all-consuming. You see it in the way she closes the gaps between her fingers again, closes the blinds on the outside world, decides she’d rather not know what it is that you make of this for fear of it being negative; in the way that it has always ended for her, in the rare moment she’s been so fragile around someone. And you feel it, in this moment. It’s so heavy it’s almost tangible, and you fear if you speak or move or think wrong it might shatter irreparably.

So you are absolutely silent for a few moments. You don’t move, don’t blink — you’re not sure that you breathe, actually, while you process what’s just been said.

“I’ll talk to Darcy,” you say eventually. “I’ll tell her to stop. I’m sorry I didn’t see that it was upsetting you sooner.”

Yelena’s hands drop away in surprise, and she looks at you, her cheekbones shimmering a little in the starlight. “You — you aren’t? You don’t —?”

“No,” you say simply, but gently, a hand moving to rest on top of hers, which fiddles with the loose threads on her pyjama bottoms. Its movements cease instantly. “Why would I be? You are okay with me liking girls. Why wouldn’t I be okay with you not liking anyone?”

She crumples, then, in relief; as though it’s so all-consuming that she can’t support herself any longer, and you’re there to catch her. She cries even as you smooth her hair and pull her over to her bed.

“Я тебя люблю,” she chokes out quietly as you cocoon her in the mass of blankets she insists on keeping in her bed.

“Я тоже тебя люблю,” you whisper, “так много.”

A few moments of quiet, where your fingers continue to comb through her hair, and her eyelids begin to flutter.

“I don’t know what to do about Kate Bishop, though,” she admits sleepily. “Because I don’t… ah… not like her. I just don’t think I can be what she wants me to be, but I don’t want to… lose her.”

“It’s all about how you feel,” you remind her gently. “Kate’s cool. She will always respect you, remember. She’s like a puppy, you’re not getting rid of her if you try,” and Yelena giggles a little at that. “We’ll figure it out, Lena. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

She nods, and mumbled something about thinking, and slips into the first peaceful sleep she has had in seven days.

Your mind moves to Natasha, now that you know with certainty that Lena will be okay. You kiss her forehead before quietly leaving the room and heading downstairs, where you know Natasha will still be awake, watching old black and white reruns.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, Liho pads up to you, meowing and tugging insistently at the bottom of your pants.

“Hiya, buddy,” you murmur, relenting at once and giving him what he wants. You scoop him up just the way he likes and he purrs happily, writhing around in your arms, rubbing his face against yours before eventually settling with his chin on your shoulder and you cradling him to your chest like a baby.

The two of you walk slowly into the living room, where just as you predicted, Natasha is curled up on the sofa beneath a blanket in front of the TV. What surprises you though is what she’s watching.

“I thought you hated this show,” you comment quietly, a smile fighting its way onto your face as you watch Kourtney and Kim fighting. You move to sit down in the armchair furthest from her but she makes a noise of displeasure and pats the spot next to her insistently, even lifting up the blanket for you and Liho to slide underneath.

Well, who are you to deny her?

“I wanted to see why you guys like it so much,” she replies after a few moments, once you’re half on top of her, head on her chest with Liho tucked into the warm gap between you, and you can feel every word that she says. “I’m not sure I really get it, to be honest.” Her fingers gently trace the outline of your face, your jawline, your cheekbones and you melt into the touch. “Are you still upset about the party?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you murmur.

“But I do, you said that I upset you. You’ve been avoiding me all week, Y/N/N, I don’t even know what I did.”

“You didn’t upset me, I was just being dumb.”

“About?”

You groan, and press your face into her chest, sensing she’s not going to let this go. “Just seeing you, like, dance and flirt with other people. I just wish I could do that sometimes. Please, I don’t wanna think about this anymore,” it comes out as something of a whine, and you can feel the way she’s tensing against you.

“Y/N,” she sighs heavily, “you know we have to cover our tracks, if we both keep acting weird when someone flirts with me then people are gonna know that we’re together.”

“But we’re not even together, really,” you mumble. “Please, let’s forget about it. Please.”

“You can’t keep saying stuff like that and then tell me to forget about it,” she scolds half-seriously, and you break the eye contact for a moment to bury your face in her chest again so she won’t see your smile. “You know we can’t tell people about us. It would… it would be too much to handle.”

Whether that’s for you or for her she doesn’t explain, but she doesn’t have to. She might be protecting you, but she’s also protecting herself. She couldn’t handle it, if she held your hand in public. Stolen moments like this are all you’ll ever get, you think to yourself miserably, as she ever so gently lowers her lips to your neck. But even with this knowledge you would still let her do anything to you, in whatever way she wants, because her wanting to touch you in any capacity is going to have to be enough — even if she harbours you like this, her little late night secret, it’s surely better than the days that she barely looked at you at all. You might not ever have her in the way that you want to; every moment like this is precious beyond belief.

So you give yourself over to her completely, and pray that someday this lingering feeling of dirtiness will fade away, and only the gratitude remain.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au

[gffa]

Hey! What are your favorite Obi-Wan-centric books/comics, if I may ask? Have a nice day and may the force be with you

Hi! I have a bunch that I've enjoyed! Trying to keep this as Obi-Wan-centric as I can, though, honestly, for as much as he appears in a lot of stuff, he's not necessarily always the center of the best stuff for his character. NOVELS - CANON:

Padawan by Kiersten White - This book dethroned all other books for me to take the #2 spot of Lumi's Favorite Star Wars Book Ever! It's charming, it's thoughtful, it's good-natured, it's funny, it had a fun adventure, it gave Obi-Wan some hellion little best friends as a Padawan, and just made me fall in love with the world all over again.

Choose Your Destiny: An Obi-Wan & Anakin Adventure by Cavan Scott - The CYD books (same concept as Choose Your Own Adventure books) can be an acquired taste, but I found so many lovely moments in this book, some genuinely delightful details (MACE WINDU THEATRE NERD) and some great Obi-Wan & Anakin moments. Plus, Bant Eerin recanonization!

Brotherhood by Mike Chen - I have talked at length about the problems with the Anakin parts of this book (basically: if you take it at face value, it's pretty vile towards a Black character), but I have a ton of affection for the Obi-Wan half of this book. The way he moves with his feelings, acknowledges them and lets them pass through him, the way he genuinely cares about the Neimoidians, the way he tries to be thoughtful and you can see how deeply he cares about Anakin, is all really good.

From a Certain Point of View: A New Hope (specifically the first one, not the second one) has three short stories that are stellar for Obi-Wan: "Master and Apprentice" by Claudia Gray (make sure it's the ANH anthology, not the full novel by the same author), "There is Another" by Gary D. Shmidt, and "Time of Death" by Cavan Scott. All have either really lovely insights into Obi-Wan's character during ANH or have him being utterly hilarious.

NOVELS - LEGENDS:

Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover - While not actually perfect, there are some things I don't fully agree with or think the book matched what was on the screen, when this book gets it right, it gets it so right that no other book has ever compared. This utterly elevates what was already my favorite Star Wars movie, and this man can turn a hell of a phrase.

Wild Space by Karen Miller - This is a book that I could pick apart in a lot of ways (it feels like two half-books stitched together rather than one coherent story, it doesn't earn its ending, it doesn't really do justice to the Jedi), but I love it because it's such an utterly dramatic book, everything about the events is larger than life, and has a spar with Obi-Wan and Anakin where he smacks Anakin on the ass, touches his face and tells him he did well and the look on Anakin's face in return almost makes Ahsoka cry because she's so touched, and contains the phrase "wringing wet and blowing hard" about their duel. Like, that's the kind of chaos you're in for and it's AMAZING.

COMICS - CANON:

Obi-Wan by Christopher Cantwell - It's only a five issue mini-series but it's a great look at Obi-Wan's character at various points in his life and I had so much to say about it, so I really felt it held up to analysis, and it really brought the feelings.

Obi-Wan & Anakin by Charles Soule - Another five issue mini and it does not get near enough credit for being tremendously well plotted and illustrating a lot of bigger points about Obi-Wan, Anakin, the Jedi, and the Republic, why good people were making the best choices available to them. Also, the single most gorgeous art I have ever seen in a comic.

Any of the Age of Republic comics by Jody Houser - These were a series of oneshots focused on various heroes and villains, and if you're specifically looking for Obi-Wan content, the Obi-Wan one and the Anakin one were FANTASTIC looks at the character.

Clone Wars: Battle Tales by Michael Moreci - Another mini-series and IIRC Obi-Wan was only in some of them, but he got some truly great moments of defending the clones and being an amazing leader in them.

COMICS - LEGENDS: These are so much harder because they're so spread out and often times it's just one or two issues that even have Obi-Wan in them. Ones I do remember enjoying:

The Clone Wars: The Smuggler's Code by Justin Aclin - A short graphic novel where Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka go on a beach vacation and run into a criminal from Obi-Wan's past and the entire story is UTTERLY UNHINGED, it's so hilariously over the top that I hyena laugh ever time I read it.

The Republic series from Dark Horse had a bunch of good Obi-Wan moments in it, if you don't mind paging through a lot of other characters. It's about all the Jedi, so they all get their turns, so I would suggest getting this one from your local library to find the issues you're most interested in!

Honestly, so much of reading SW books and comics is the willingness to pick out small fragments of gold amidst the bigger blargghh, like would I recommend Jedi Apprentice or Jedi Quest as some of my favorites? No, probably not, but that doesn't mean that Jude Watson didn't know how to turn a hell of a phrase and that I won't pull out fantastic quotes from those books! Would I recommend the Titan magazine comics? No, they're charming but the art is wonky a lot and they're too short to really go into much depth. If anyone has any comics recs to include, feel free to add on! The novels were easier to remember, but there have been so many comics that I feel like I'm missing some obvious ones.

#obi wan kenobi #novels recs #comics recs

[bullet-prooflove]

Song prompt for Manny Perez

But honey if I had to choose

Oh I'd rather ride around with you

Tagging: @burningpeachpuppy @acesgunner95 @caffeinatedwoman @unknown6669991

You disappear into the background when Manny’s ex-wife Bobbi comes to town. You think he doesn’t notice but he does, he’s just too busy putting out the fires she’s lighting up in Gabriella’s life to be able to deal with it.

It’s almost a week later that he realises he hasn’t heard from you. No calls, no texts, no sleep overs. Bobbi has a way of doing that, taking over his life, drowning out everything else with her chaos. He’s barely had more than a couple of minutes to himself between his shifts with Three Rock and running interference between her and Gabby.

It’s five in the morning when he forces himself out of bed and drags himself down to the beach. It’s the only place he can guarantee you’ll be and the truth is he wants a little one on one time.

You’re already in water by the time he gets there, bobbing by a little way from the shore, your gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun rises. He considers joining you but this is where you get your peace, where you come to take a breath and he doesn’t want to interrupt that moment.

When you step out the water he can’t help but smile. You’ve never been shy about your body and that’s one of the things he loves about you, your confidence, your unflinching ability to know who you are, to never doubt it.

He hands you the towel before you wrap it around yourself and drop down into the sand alongside of him. You nudge his shoulder lightly and he nudges you back.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around.” He finds himself telling you. “My ex-wife… She’s a lot.”

“Oh I know.” You tell him, taking a sip from your water bottle. “I thought I’d give you a little breathing room with everything that was going on between her and Gabby.”  

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t care about you.” Manny tells you as his hand comes to rest upon yours on the sand. “That she comes back into my life and I forget about you.”

“I don’t think that.” You tell him as your fingers entwine with his. “I think that dealing with Roberta takes a lot of time and a lot of energy and that requires mental space so you don’t lose your shit and murder her.”

You’re not wrong, handling Bobbi was a full time occupation when they were married. She thrived on drama, on wreaking havoc on his life. Being with you is a breath of fresh air because he can relax, he’s never waiting for the next bomb to drop.

“You know anyone else would be pissed off but you…” He trails off because he just can’t find the words.

“Did you think I’d be spoiling for a fight?” You ask, tilting your head towards him.“This isn’t about me, it’s about you and Gabby trying to survive Hurricane Roberta, I’m just trying to stay out of the way so you don’t feel like you have to deal with another casualty.”

“She’s already tried to scare you away hasn’t she?” He says studying the expression on your features.

“She’s a bitter woman.” You remark, your fingertips tracing over the stubble of his jaw. “But then again, I would be too if I had run you out of my life.”

“That’s something you could never do.” He tells you, his lips brushing over your pulse point. “Whatever happens between the two of us, I’ll always be in your life. As your friend, your lover…”

“I definitely prefer lover.” You assure him and a blush creeps across his cheeks because the way you’re looking at him reminds him you aren’t wearing a single scrap of clothing underneath that towel.

“Good because I can’t imagine how hard it would be trying to be your friend knowing what’s under here.” He murmurs, his fingertips trailing along the hem of the towel.

“I can’t imagine how hard you might be under those jeans.” You tease as the towel loosens and slips from your body.

“Did I mention how much I’ve missed you over the past week?” Manny murmurs as his body covers yours, guiding you back onto the sand.

“No.” You smile, reaching down between the two of you to unzip his fly. “But maybe you can show me.”

Love Manny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#manny perez #manny perez x reader #fire country #kevin alejandro

[widowshill]

top 5 roger and vicky moments

TOP FIVE ANYTHING !

I decided to also answer this in video form to get that Louis Line Delivery. THIS WAS SO HARD UGH. choosing just 5 is impossible. i cheated slightly and put an honorable mention.

4: "pain sometimes precedes pleasure, miss winters." a classic. why did he say this to her. she just got here. stop flirting with your employee and going into her bedroom at night (impossible). I think you should both lose focus and have a consensual workplace relationship. it might make things worse but i would enjoy it.

87: sobbing into his chest and clutching his lapels because she saw a ghost. ummm yeah this scene is kind of everything. it's the most physical touch they ever have and it makes me crazy. the way she clings to him, the way he rests his head against hers, the way he's rubbing her back even though moments ago he was doing his utmost to terrorize her... yeah. them. pain sometimes precedes pleasure.

96: "I should have carried you over the threshold" / "you forget, you're already married." god tier r/v lines he's terrible i love him ❤️ thinking about marrying your governess when you're already married to your beautiful arsonist huh, mr rochester? ALSO TRAPPED IN A CABIN DURING A STORM !

75: "weren't you?" / "But now, I'm so certain of my survival, that..." holding this scene and shaking it. THAT WHAT. fated to be here on this cliffside together this very morning roger ? so certain of your survival that you can do what now, roger? (also, this moment is preceded by vicki repeating what he first said to her when they met: "not planning to jump, are you?") they're normal and they belong together.

618: "it will be the greatest mistake of your life." he totally does not have any feelings for her no nope he just doesn't want her to marry jeff because um. Just The Dream (And Jeff Kissing Eve) And No Other Reason.

and a bonus 97: "I trust you slept well after our arduous night." we fucked in bangor and what about it. (plot reasons for trying to make people think they're romantically involved aside: why did you say it like that. in front of your sister and niece.) vicki and her little walk of shame .... love u babe.

#thanks for this hehe. #i love my rarepairs... but look at all this audiovisual. caught in 360px #➤ roger collins & victoria winters. ┊ pain sometimes precedes pleasure，miss winters. #forevermuses #➤ answered. ┊ collinsport 4099. #➤ meme responses. ┊ boo !

[animehouse-moe]

Can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from CSM? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Thanks....

Alright, top 5 characters and top 5 moments. This was an interesting one. Of course, there's definitely going to be manga spoilers for both Part 1 and Part 2, so anime/part 1 onlies beware.

Makes the most sense to start with characters so we'll go there first.

Denji

Kinda hard not to put Denji on the list. I know sometimes people's favorite characters can be the supporting cast, but in such a character focused series it's hard to not love Denji's character arc, and his cyclical story that feels like it mimics a devil's reincarnation. Always the same person, but everchanging, Denji's stuck searching for happiness at every turn in his life despite accruing everything that he thought would make him happy.

Asa Mitaka

I mean, there's a reason that the main character is called a main character. Asa's duality, and her juxtaposition in part two against Denji is really well done. Everything of hers serves to be an antithesis to Denji's, so both characters have done really well in bringing out the best in each other when they're together.

Quanxi

Alright, finally into the supporting characters. To put it simply, Quanxi is just plain cool and interesting. Having taught Kishibe all he knows while putting him through the ringer each time he asks her out, it's just fun. Being the oldest Devil Hunter and also one of two weapon hybrids to evade Makima's grasp up until the end? There's just too much that's cool about her, and her re-appearance in Part 2 only heightens that as she may well be positioned to take over Kishibe's role from the end of part 1. As a note, I was torn between Quanxi and Reze for this "spot", but I feel like Quanxi brings a more "complete" arc through what I've seen of her character so far, while if Reze resurfaces she'll become far more important than her role in part 1.

Makima

Chainsaw Man's core cast is pretty undefeated in terms of quality. I mean, it's pretty hard to do much with a character when they all die so quickly. Anyways, Makima as the antagonist is just plain good. People will get hung up on her manipulation and whatnot, and that is a part of her character, and a good one, but a lot can neglect the "genuine" aspect of her character that makes those manipulative pieces that much harder to discern at moments. She's more complex than just "Chainsaw Man is mine", and she deserves credit for that as a character.

Power

I'd like to say I struggled with choosing Power, but I really didn't. I do like Aki and his whole thing about death and revenge and his relationship with Himeno.... but I think that Power gets the head start on him. It's not really stretching the truth to say that the women of Chainsaw Man are more important to Denji's character than the men. After all, it's why four of the five in this list are women, Power included. Power's story does really well to bond with Denji as a sibling, giving him a closer connection to her than he has to Aki. It's almost like a precursor for becoming a big brother to Nayuta. And then there's the whole thing with Power's death mirroring Pochita's. Power fills a void in Denji, much like Aki. But it's not Power herself that does, but their bond, the pieces that the pair have put together between themselves through jokes, fighting, fear, or anything else. So, out of all the possible recurring characters, Power is arguably the most important, which makes me curious to see if we'll ever find the Blood devil/fiend again.

Alright, on to top 5 moments now. This one's a bit more challenging, because defining a moment isn't super easy. Because of that, I'll center it around a panel or sequence that I think is really important, impactful, or cool.

Go Find The Blood Devil - Chapter 91

Ended the characters with Power, so gotta start the moments with Power. This one's rather self-explanatory, as Power gives her life much like Pochita to offer Denji a new life, not another chance at his current, but a new one. It plays, in the literal sense, into Denji's circular story of rebirth and how it affects his dreams and ideals. Great moment all around. Also on that note, Pochita's moment is solid, but it's more foundational than some of these other moments. It has it, but it's more important as a story aspect than something that can grip readers with the same importance.

Play Catch - Chapter 79

I know I picked Power over Aki earlier, but that doesn't mean that he's a worthless character stuck on the sidelines. He does a good bit through life in the manga, but his Gun fiend moment is the most important for both him and Denji. It speaks to Aki's innermost desires, to be able to play with his brother once more. Though in this case it shows how he's come to see Denji as a younger sibling and is using that to replace the one that he lost. All the while it's meant to show Aki's desire to be able to laugh, to have fun and lead a normal life, none of which was available to him. Infinitely more depressing than Power's death, Aki's moves in the opposite direction as a self-serving one which impacts Denji in a totally different way.

Save The Asa - Chapter 127

This stretch from Part 2 was really something else because it's the first time that Asa and Denji really talk properly. There's the piece at the aquarium, but it's not the same as looking into these characters like they do in this chapter. How it approaches the feelings of depression, and what can help fight them or stave them off is just incredibly fresh and realistic, and so very much Denji-like. It's silly and wonderfully uplifting and important, as well as showing Denji's resolve and (at this point in the manga) his latest reborn self. Sure, he's gone through hell several times over but he's now got a little sister, a bunch of dogs, and a massive Chainsaw Man fanbase. The sun's only just rising on his new life, and he's excitedly reaching out for more.

Dream Battle - Chapter 10

It wouldn't be Chainsaw Man without some insanity, and I feel like Denji's fight with the Leech Devil is the first real instance of that, and such an electric one at that. On his last legs, bordering on desperation, Denji's feral and ridiculous side appears for the first time, and it's an incredible amount of fun.

Chu Chu Lovely Lovely Muni Muni Mura Mura

I love Maximum The Hormone, Fujimoto loves Maximum The Hormone, how could this chapter not top my list of favorite moments? Belting off a song about sexual assault as Denji beats the brakes off a bunch of guys taking their turns against him, it's just so Chainsaw Man I don't know if there's a moment that better explains the series. It might even top the list of chapters I can't wait to see adapted as the series continues, purely because I know the song will play during the fight.

Finally, out the other side. These things always take a deceptive amount of time because I have so many ideas swirling around in my head that I need to trim down on. Going all the way down to five for each is really difficult, but given how narrow the criteria are, I feel pretty confident in my decisions at this point, especially in my favorite moments.

#chainsaw man #csm pt 2 #chainsaw man manga #csm manga #chainsaw man part two #chainsaw man part 2 spoilers #csm part 2 #csm part two #csm spoilers #manga recommendation #manga review #anime and manga #manga #csm denji #miri sugo #sword man #sword devil #sword hybrid #flamethrower devil #flamethrower hybrid #csm barem #whip hybrid #spear hybrid #nayuta csm #nayuta #spear devil #whip devil #fumiko mifune #quanxi #csm part 1

[llliiinnnaaa]

Reprisal | Chapter Five

coriolanus snow x gaul oc

Summary: Ten years after the Tenth Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow is under Dr. Volumnia Gaul’s wing as a Gamemaker alongside her niece. Unbeknownst to either of them, they’re both being prepared for a much greater task.

Warning: This story will contain explicit violence against adults and children alike (I mean, it’s Dr. Gaul AND Snow) as well as explicit language, and sexual situations.

***This fic is in no way, shape, or form, me endorsing or co-signing the horrific shit Snow does, nor am I trying to romanticize it. Also, apathy and will be the main driving force of any remnants of a relationship between my OC and Snow’s character. So if you’re interested in something very romantic and fluffy…it’s not gonna be this.

Enjoy!

     He can feel the disappointment leaching from his cousin the whole ride to her apartment. 

She had been quick to help, as always, rushing to the two of them as Tawny pulled her pants back up, Tigris grabbed the woman’s high heels and slipped them back on her feet while Coriolanus smoothed his outfit and stepped out of the dining room, going to the guest bathroom to scrub any unseen lipstick off of himself. 

She helped them make everything appear as if nothing were out of place, smoothed the knotted up table cloth and scanned for anymore evidence. 

She carried on conversation as they were saying goodbye, pretending not to see the stolen glances between Coriolanus and Tawny. 

Even now, she chirps with Livia as if she hadn’t witnessed her husband in a compromising position with his colleague whose anniversary they had celebrated moments prior. 

When the car rolls to the front of Tigris’ building, Coriolanus hops out and helps her out of the vehicle, too. 

“Thank you, Coriolanus.” She expects him to get back in, but he instead tells his wife and the driver, “I’m walking her up.” 

It’s silent and dreadful all the way up, and when she finally unlocks her door and steps in, he comes in after her. 

“ She’s married , Coriolanus.” It’s said gently after she shuts the door, assuming this is why he came up with her. 

To get this settled away. 

“I know, Tigris.” 

“ You’re married .”

“I know.”

She doesn’t say anything else for a moment, trying to read her cousin’s expression. 

Not a shred of guilt or remorse. 

“Are you…leaving Livia, or —”

“—I’m not leaving Livia.” He states. 

“Well…are you unhappy with Livia?” 

“No.” He says it genuinely, as if he’s wondering why she would even think he was unhappy. 

“Is she leaving Dyess?” 

“No.” 

“Is she unhappy with Dyess?” 

“As if it weren’t obvious tonight?” He scoffs, a frown tugging at her lips before she quietly asks, “Do you love her?”

“Ugh, Tigris .” He nearly groans it out, sighing and rubbing his forehead that’s starting to ache with her questions, as she retorts, “I’m sorry, Coriolanus, I’m just startled.”

“We’re just…” He trails off, not knowing what to describe it as, Tigris waiting patiently for some sort of explanation. “…It doesn’t mean anything.” Is all he can come up with. 

“ It doesn’t mean anything ?” She almost hisses it. “If Livia or Dyess finds out they’ll be crushed . Your reputation, Tawny’s reputation, will be ruined. It means everything , Coriolanus.” 

“That’s the thing, though, isn’t it, Tigris? They won’t find out.” His tone is cold, stern, certain. 

She knew how he could get when he became paranoid of someone turning on him, betraying him, he’d become callus and distant.

They already weren’t as close as they had been as children, the Tenth Hunger Games and the events after it had changed him.

Tigris chooses her words carefully.

“I’m not saying a word to them because it’s not my place to say it. But if you two keep acting so brazenly they very well may find out. And I’m worried it will overshadow all of your hard work for the both of you.” She warns him. “And if it gets back to Dr. Gaul…” 

She’s frightened by what the woman might do. 

Tigris figures she’d be infuriated at such unprofessional behavior between the two of them. 

Snow doesn’t know if she’ll be angry, or amused. She favors them both, guiding them both under her wing more than others. Perhaps she wouldn’t be surprised at all. 

“Nobody will find out.” His statement puts the issue to rest then and there…the very image of his father when he does so. 

Stoic, militant…

She takes in a breath and nods quietly, not daring to utter another word of it again — ever . 

     The next night, Tawny once more reads over the case Philo had dropped off to her, elbows propped on her desk. 

It’s practically the same one she just did that had failed. 

Failed cases were revisited by others to see if it were truly a failure or a dumb mistake the first person had made, but she has a feeling that either Snow or her aunt changed a few things around and gave her her own failure to pick through. 

She rubs her forehead, closing her tired eyes.

No longer does she have the energy to try.

There was no point, it was going to be a waste just like most of the ones within the last year had been. 

A knock at her office door has her eyes opening, sitting back in her chair to try to wake herself up a little more. 

“Come in.” She calls, relief filling her at the sight of her aunt.

“I came to drop this off.” Volumnia holds out a wrapped box. “An anniversary gift.”

“You didn’t have to get us anything.” Tawny stands and accepts, sweetly eyeing the silver wrapping paper. 

“Oh, no, no, no, no .” She says tsks. “It is not for him . Only you .” 

Tawny’s brows furrow, looking at the box, now afraid to open it. 

“I’d like for you to open it after my Game has been played.” She adds. 

“Okay.” Tawny politely replies to Dr. Gaul, setting it aside. 

Volumnia takes the opportunity to glance down at the woman’s desk, full, red lips twitching at the sight of her niece’s new case at her fingertips.

“I see Mr. Snow has given you another case.” She starts. 

“Yes, it’s similar to my last failure…just on a different species.” Tawny replies, somewhat glad she won’t have to be cutting into any more Avoxes for now.

“Hmm.” Dr. Gaul hums. “I do hope it works the way it’s intended to, Dr. Crane.” She adds. “I’ve been waiting quite a while to see one of your wonders in my arena…with this particular year being an exceptional opportunity.” 

“What is it you mean by that, exactly?” Tawny questions, curiously. 

“The Twenty Year Anniversary of the Hunger Games. The arena is changing, the stakes will be higher — ”

“ — The arena will be changing?” 

Dr. Gaul lets out a soft breath, stopping herself. 

“I thought Mr. Snow would have told you by now.” She says, raising her brows. 

“Told me what?” 

“Years ago, he had implemented the idea of a…change in scenery, if you will. Fortunately it’s ready this year.” She pipes. 

“Which is why everyone’s been pressured to come up with so many successful mutations to be picked from.” Tawny adds, to which her aunt nods. 

“We need only one more. Everyone has submitted all of theirs for review, except you.” Dr. Gaul states, next. “Mr. Snow has been more than generous with his patience…so many believe you shouldn’t even be in the running for it.” 

“Well, they might all get their wish. My last one was a failure, they’ve all been for the most part.” Tawny huffs out, rolling her jaw.

“I have a feeling this one won’t be so bad.” Dr. Gaul says surely, her tone a promise more so than an optimistic thought as she walks to the door. 

“Dr. Gaul,” Tawny stops her, a question itching at her ever since Dyess had brought it up, “There’s a rumor going around that the creators of the three mutts that are picked to be incorporated into this year's Games will be awarded medals by President Ravinstill…is that true?” 

“Why, Dr. Crane, I never took you as the type whose mouth watered for accolades and recognition.” Dr. Gaul pipes. 

“If I’m breaking my neck to try to make the Games better, I believe I need to be recognized for my hard work.” She admits, watching as Dr. Gaul nods slowly. 

“Good night, Dr. Crane.” 

She neither confirms nor denies the rumor.

     Coriolanus paces the floor of the morgue, Philo standing near him, waiting patiently for Dr. Gaul.

“This is bullshit.” The blonde mumbles, glaring over the open carcass of the dead Avox. 

He had been shown the injection site of where Dyess had given the high concentration of Iron to the subject, thus setting fire to the whole case. 

“Umm…Mr. Snow, I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to be here.” Philo mumbles, worried Dr. Gaul will be displeased with his presence despite him quickly becoming Snow’s righthand man in terms of somewhat shady and odd dealings like spying on Dr. Crane – the both of them – reporting back to him.

He knew Dyess Crane was no good, using his wife’s intelligence to get on top before throwing her off, and he knew Snow wanted him exposed and gone…

But it still seemed like a personal matter that should stay between Snow and Gaul. 

“I want you here, Mr. Marius, so you’re here until I dismiss you. Do you understand?” Snow hisses. 

“Yes.” 

The doors open and in walks Volumnia, her shoes padding across the sterile, tile floor. 

“I want him dead, Dr. Gaul.” It’s the first words that fall from his lips. “Strung up from the tallest building we’ve got!” 

“I really shouldn’t be here.” Philo whispers, though he’s certain Coriolanus doesn’t truly mean it…surely. 

“Mr. Snow,” Dr. Gaul starts, but he continues, “Or fed to a mutt, or thrown in the Games himself. He’s wasted Capitol resources, he’s sabotaged work for the Hunger Games…he’s betrayed all of us and I want him dead .” 

“I spoke with President Ravinstill, and informed him of our ongoing investigation into Dr. Crane. He will only allow him to be sent off to the districts as a Peacekeeper.” 

Snow’s jaw rolls, his teeth gritting together. 

He wants to scream. 

“A Peacekeeper ?” 

“His work has been too good.” She quotes him. 

“The work he used your niece to achieve?” Coriolanus seethes. 

Snow wants his tongue cut out, at least, and be made an Avox. 

He wants to hang Dyess’ polished university diploma in the maid’s bathroom of his home with Livia, so Dyess could  have something to look at while scrubbing the toilet. 

Matters will need to be taken into Snow’s hands. 

As always. 

Everyone around him was always too gracious to get their hands dirty. 

“I have ordered two more autopsies for past cases of her’s that have failed, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul says. “They should be concluded by next week and once the results are in, if it’s clear they’ve been tampered with, then we’ll have enough evidence to move forward.”

“And then what? He’s arrested and shipped off to the Districts? Going practically unpunished?” He asks, bitterly. 

“Oh, I have no doubt he won’t go unpunished.” She assures him, looking at him knowingly. “In fact, I believe he’s being punished now, and doesn’t even realize it, yet.” 

Coriolanus doesn’t know if she’s insinuating about her own ideas for his reprimanding, or if she somehow knows that he’s got the man’s wife strung out on him like a morphling addict. 

Perhaps it’s even a mix of the two.

“Be patient, Mr. Snow.” She assures him. “Winter is closer than you think…” 

…And Snow lands on top.

     The next few  days are a stressful blur, Gamemakers and Scientists alike scrambling to finish their deadlines and meetings, the next Games only a week away. 

In that time, Snow hadn’t acknowledged Tawny sending Philo for her work, and anytime she would try to go to his office to ask him things personally, or need his advice, he wasn’t there. 

She knew the Gamemakers were just as stressed — if not more — especially with the change of arena.

They were bending over backwards trying to make the Games the best they’ve had yet, and she appreciated and admired their work and effort. 

But she also needed her partner to help her — not his apprentice. 

“…Mr. Snow wanted me to ask you how your work is coming along?” Philo asks her as she checks the mutt’s vitals. 

It’s a rather large lizard, almost the size of an alligator, but not quite. 

Docile and calm — for now — thanks to its sedative. 

“If Mr. Snow wants to know, he can come find me.” She grits out, refusing to indulge anymore information. 

“I—Dr. Crane, I really need to know so I have something to tell him. I don’t want to anger him.” 

“He knows where my lab is, he knows where my office is, he knows where I live.” She grits out, not looking at him, still, while she watches the blue blood of the Lizard flow into the vacutainer. “If he wants to know so damn bad, he can come ask.” 

Once it hits its mark she pulls it from the dispenser and quickly clicks a new vacutainer to it for more than one blood sample. 

“Dr. Crane, he’s been quite stressed lately, and I really think he’d appreciate your cooperation.” Philo tries once more and she finally glares at him. 

“You tell Mr. Snow that if he wants my cooperation, he can come collect it himself.” She hisses. “Get out of my lab, now, please. I have to clean up.” 

Philo hesitantly steps back out, heart pounding in his as he goes back to Coriolanus’ office, waiting patiently for him to get out of his meeting. 

When he does, Snow offers him a somewhat friendly smile. 

“So, how is her subject?” He asks Philo, in a halfway decent mood, excited for his findings. 

“Umm…” He doesn’t quite know how to phrase it without angering Coriolanus. 

He knows he has a temper, and he doesn’t wish to see his blood boil through his porcelain skin or his jaw roll with his rage as he tries to keep from having a fit. 

“Dr. Crane didn’t give me any information, sir.” He confesses, swallowing nervously. 

His superior’s brows pull slightly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“She refuses to give me any information.” He repeats it, before scrambling out, “But I did see it, and it looked healthy and well, she was taking blood sampl—”

“—She refused you information?” He cuts him short, blue eyes growing irate. 

“I told her that you were far too busy to look for yourself, so you sent me to ask about it, and you’d really appreciate her cooperation…and she said that if you wanted her cooperation, that you would go collect it yourself.” 

“ Oh .” Snow says it lightly, despite the frustration itching at his skin. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Marius, I have to go collect my own partner’s cooperation.” He offers a tight smile.

“Yes, of course.” Philo stands to his feet and bids him goodbye before scurrying down the hall as fast as he can. 

The moment he’s alone, Snow’s smile slips from his face, his fingers curling, shaking. 

Ungrateful, infuriating, vexing, woman , he thinks to himself as he grabs his coat and makes his way to her office. 

He can already imagine the many ways she’ll try to work her way out of it. 

Falling to her knees, reaching for his belt, whispering about how sorry she is and how she didn’t mean what she had said, kissing his neck, catching his lips with hers…

Perhaps she was so rude, so dismissive, so demanding of his attention because she wanted him to come find her. 

He assumes she’ll walk in, see him at her desk, and get breathless with her want. 

The idea angers him even further. 

If she’d wanted him at all this week, she should have just flagged him down and asked. 

He would not be manipulated with mind games, or pretty brown eyes, or soft moans that wisp from full lips. 

Getting up from her desk, he goes to hide behind the door at the sound of what he assumes are her steps growing closer, a heavy breath leaving her lips as she walks in. 

She nearly jumps from her skin when the door slams and locks, dark brown locks still pinned up from her time in her lab, eyes wide when she looks at him. 

“Oh.” She flatly speaks when she sees him, sighing relief. 

“ Oh ?” He asks, sharply, taking a step forward. 

“Your mole must have given you my message.” She says without looking at him as she walks to her desk and opens one of the drawers, fumbling through files. 

“Philo was only doing his job and you were unforgivably rude to him.” He sneers out. 

“ Unforgivably ?” Tawny questions with an amused scoff. “I do tend to shoot the messenger.” She admits. “Keep that in mind next time you go days without even acknowledging my existence.” She cuts next. 

“I’ve been doing my job, part of which is maintaining an eye on your job, and you’ve been acting like a child not getting her way.” He barks. 

“Because your eye hasn’t seen my work.” She states. “I’ve needed you , I’ve needed to speak to you, I’ve needed your opinion , your advice , you . So, I do apologize for being so unforgivably rude to Mr. Marius, but I wouldn’t have to be if you would just show up some time.” 

“Well now I’m good and shown up, Dr. Crane, so what exactly is it that you need ?” He throws out. 

She stares at him, taking in a deep breath before she’s sitting on the edge of her desk, reaching behind her to grab the new subject’s case file. 

Extending it to him, he steps closer, merely touching it before she’s snatching it away. 

His nostrils flare, knowing what game she’s playing. 

Any other time he’d want to entertain her, to see her splay out for him, craving him anyway she could get him. 

But right now it angers him more than anything. 

“I’m not doing this with you. Not right now.” He tells her. “Give me the damn file.” 

Reluctantly, she hands it over, watching his back as soon as he grabs it and turns to get space between them as he looks over her most recent notes. 

“So, it’s a success?” He questions, seeing that everything is running smoothly thus far. 

“It can’t technically be counted as one until the seven day mark.” 

“Which is…?”

“Three days.” 

“The Games are in a week from tomorrow. If it is a success and you’re chosen, that will barely be enough time to create more of them.” He mutters. 

“I don’t care if I’m chosen or not at this point, I just want to stop marking ‘time of death’ on my notes and what I believe the cause to be.” 

“Bare minimum.” It’s mumbled flatly, he’s tossing the file to her desk. 

“Is there anything else you need?” He asks her, half sarcastically, given that she’d thrown out a whole list of why she just had to see him. 

“That thing that you told Dyess was just a rumor,” She starts, Snow taking notice of  her swallowing thickly, slowly stepping to her, “about Ravinstill…is it truly just a rumor?” 

He stands over her. 

“It might not be.” He says quietly, raising his brows. “But what does it matter to you? You just want a successful case.”

She thinks a moment more, his eyes watching her as she does so. 

“My aunt said the only case left to be submitted for review is mine.” Tawny replies. “Are you being so patient because you like looking at me?” 

The self-doubt is written plainly on her face. 

“I don’t favor you.” He denies it, truthfully. “I admire your work, and I know you can…” He wants to gag on his next words, knowing she’d be more successful if not for her spineless husband, “…do better than what you have been the last year.” He explains. 

“Oh.” She almost whispers it, trying not to sound too relieved before saying, “I’m sorry I was rude to Philo. He always seems like a nervous wreck.” 

“I always seem to make him a nervous wreck.” Coriolanus scoffs.

“I can’t imagine how you’d ever make someone nervous.” She furrows her brows, lips pulling upward…another thought comes to mind. “Did you speak to Tigris?”

He pulls away from her at the mention of it, she wants to reach out and grab him to stop him, ask him to talk to her about it.

“She’s not going to tell anyone.” He says to her. 

“...She doesn’t think we’re horrible people does she?” 

He wants to laugh at her question, believing his cousin has long believed him to be a horrible person to some extent. 

“No, Dr. Crane, she doesn’t.” 

Tawny almost flinches at what he addresses her as. 

Things had changed since they’d been caught by his cousin – as if it made their affair palpable, real…neither of them had acknowledged it, however.

She wondered if guilt drilled at him, he wondered if she was falling in love with him. 

Both of them were repulsed by the thoughts but didn’t utter a word about it. 

“I have to get home.” She says next, breaking the small space of silence between them. 

“Me, too.” He replies, walking around her desk to grab his coat he’d rested on her chair. 

He notices the box on her desk, now, small and silver…the same box he had seen Dr. Gaul slip the syringe they had found in Dyess’ office into earlier in the week. 

“She said it’s an anniversary present.” Tawny tells him, noticing his eye caught on the package. “Apparently I’m not supposed to open it until after the Games.” 

Did this mean that Gaul had officially found enough evidence from those other autopsies? Was Dyess going to be dealt with after the Games? 

Coriolanus sneers at the idea of the man’s creations even being featured in the arena at all anymore.

The only reason his mutts even had a chance at being picked was because he ruined Tawny’s. 

Snow thinks back to Dyess’ smug comment.

Tawny’s gotten the pick of the litter, right, Snow?

Coriolanus looks at Tawny, who is now filing away the case he had looked over. 

He thinks of her driving herself mad trying to right the cases that she believes she did wrong, for the sake of the Games, to put on a good show, to help continue to prove a point to the Districts whose rebels stole her daughter away from her. 

Perhaps he’s gotten the pick of the litter…

“Everyone knows he’s the best Gamemaker we’ve got aside from Dr. Gaul. And Tawny gets him all to herself,” Dyess’ voice rings out in his mind, again.

No, Tawny didn’t have him all to herself…she has to share with Livia. 

Though he’s certain Tawny doesn’t mind sharing with his wife. 

The idea of him sharing with Dyess is a brand new issue that needs to be remedied, and if all bodes well with Dr. Gaul’s investigation, it will remedied quite soon.

“...Mr. Snow?” Tawny asks him again, his blue eyes coming back from being zoned out for a moment. “Were you needing something? I was about to leave, and I’ve got to lock up.” 

He can start the process of digging under Dyess’ skin furthermore the sooner Tawny’s subject is chosen as the third and final addition. 

“I do need something, actually.” He nods, slowly, a small smirk on his lips. “Come here.” He says to her, watching as she puts her stuff down and walks toward the desk, keeping it between the two of them. 

“Closer.” He tells her. 

“I have to go home, I can’t do this toni –” 

She hushes when his palm goes against her lips, fingertips gently holding at her face as he leans over her desk to be eye level with her. 

“I’m just looking .” He defends himself, unable to even get his mind on anything other than making sure they don’t fail so she can get picked. 

Her lips tug upward under his palm, and she nods a couple times before he removes his hand. “Now, Dr. Crane, would you mind showing me what you’ve been working on?”

Brown eyes nearly sparkle at his interest.

“Really?” She asks him. 

“So I can actually get my eye on it.” He replies, repeating her words and her small grin turns into a toothy smile. 

Her lips quickly press to his before she’s plucking the key to her lab out of her desk drawer. 

Before she shuts it, she places the gift from Gaul inside, and ice blue eyes watch it disappear into the polished wood, his mouth growing bitter at the memory of its content. 

#coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x oc #coriolanus snow x gaul oc #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[jus-let-me-read]

Ronance (Robin x Nancy) Headcanon

Something in ST5 I'd love to see is Robin coming out to someone else, specifically Nancy. The last season showed how much potential they had when working together, and having Robin trust Nancy enough to tell her would make future me's entire year.

Just imagining the gang is a step closer towards figuring out how to stop this once and for all. Vickie dies (sorry) around the beginning and Robin has a huge reaction towards it, where even though they didn't really get to know each other Robin did want to get the chance to do so. Nancy sees how much Robin reacted towards Vickie's death and is curious to learn more. She doesn't force answers out of Robin or anything like that, but she does want to help her friend in any way she can and be there for her.

Robin, on the other hand, has been talking to Steve about Nancy a bit more, and Robin wonders if she should come out to her. Or even if it's the right time. Steve doesn't entirely understand where she's getting at, at first, but after watching her tip toe and stumble around her words towards Nancy a bit Steve gets it. He encourages her to go for it if she wants to, and reassures her that it's going to be fine. Where even though Robin has come out to Steve, coming out to Nancy would be so much more. On one hand she knows Nancy currently a bit more compared to Steve when she did come out to him back in Starcourt. Plus she was previously drugged so that was bound to have some affect of some sort.

She doesn't end up planning out how to come out to her like she wanted to. Robin had an idea of what she'd say it was just hard to tackle all of her thoughts with everything going on. In a moment of silence and peace where they were unintentionally left by themselves Nancy prompts a conversation, albeit a bit nervously. Robin is her first female friend her age, since Barb, and she doesn't want to cross any boundaries she shouldn't.

-

"Hey, are you okay? About the whole Vickie thing. You knew her from band or something, right?"

-

Robin's obviously caught off guard at first. She honestly didn't expect Nancy to ask her that, but she's happy that Nancy cares for her. She doesn't directly tell Nancy what Vickie was to her. Because even Robin wasn't entirely sure what she meant to her to her. Obviously she liked her, but she hadn't actually properly came out to Vickie, yet there seemed to be some understanding between the two that they weren't exactly both straight. Robin tells Nancy they were friends and she mainly got to know her through band.

As Nancy consoles her, Robin slowly comes to the realization how much she actually has grown to treasure her friendship with Nancy. It turns out she didn't need a five step plan or some strategy to tell her. She doesn't entirely hear what Nancy says or was trying to convey. Robin is mainly focused on her thoughts alone. She smiles when she comes to realize that when she does come out to Nancy, everything will be okay. That's what made Robin choose that now was the moment.

-

"There's another reason why I was so affected when Vickie died."

-

Robin wasn't sure how she didn't look away immeaditely when Nancy looked up to meet her gaze. Whereas Nancy could tell Robin was about to tell her something important to her, when her tone shifted.

-

"In fact, it's kind of related as to why Steve and I just wouldn't work out. Obviously we're platonic with a capital P, but there's more to it."

-

Nancy's gaze softened as Robin gulped to prepare her rising nerves. She sits down in case she'd end up losing all feeling in her legs if she let her nerves overcome her. Nancy sits besides her and tells Robin, "You can tell me." That's enough to spur on Robin's confidence.

-

"I liked Vickie the way people expected me to like Steve."

-

And all Robin could do was hug Nancy as the latter held out her arms waiting for the hug. Not failing to miss Nancy's "thank you for trusting me," as she sinked into the warm feeling.

#ronance #stranger things #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin x nancy #headcanons #ronance headcanon #coming out

[professorspork]

I’m Supermonaman from AO3 & I had a question about ships I think it’s clear that bumblebee is your favorite ship but what are 5 other ships you love if you don’t mind answering? Also what is your opinion/what do you think about the Sunnybees or Blake/Yang/Sun? It’s a guilty pleasure ship/crack ship I love that I think makes sense/works in my mind it’s similar to the Weiss/Blake/Yang in some ways.

I certainly do not mind answering! I thought about writing this out as a list of five and like, that sort of falsely put everything on the same level in a way that didn't reflect my feelings, so.

We must begin with Nuts and Dolts. Honestly this might be my All Time RWBY Ship in terms of like-- the scope! the themes! the longing! the intimacy the belonging the SCALE of it the TRAGEDY of it!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS THE SPINE OF THE WHOLE SERIES. But also like, while it's So Big it's also so terribly small, so dependent on the smallest and most innocent moments and touches. I haven't had the ambition to tackle them the way they deserve to be written about but oh my god, iconic sensational perfect I have no words they are SO IMPORTANT

I adore Renora, and while I've rarely sought it out I'm very intrigued by every permutation and side-leg of the Weiss/Pyrrha/Jaune polycule. No polycule will ever do it as hard as whatever the fuck STR had going on bless their unhinged souls and bless Qrow for mostly staying out of it; Seamonkeys are delightful though I rarely seek them out on their own. I am an Emerald/Ilia truther and I am certain that as soon as they meet in canon it's going to be OVER FOR ALL OF US, just you wait. Oh, and of course add full JNPR polycule and the Happy Huntresses group marriage to my list can you see I hate choosing and love togetherness

Which brings me to your final question! I don't ship any bees poly ship as much as I ship the two of them with each other, but you're very right about Sun and Weiss having very similar "beekeeper" energy. This is why my bee's schnees tag has always been "ot3: the parent trap" because my primary conception of their dynamic will always be 'weiss is on the outside looking in and trying to curate and help, and little does she know she's not nearly as subtle as she thinks she is and also they're noticing her right back.' I generally tend to think of Weiss as aromantic and more looking for Her People than she is looking for partners, which I think comes across pretty strongly in Newsbees AU-- a world in which Blake and Yang would JUMP at the chance to give Weiss her first kiss if only she'd ask them and meanwhile she's got a spray bottle on hand to make sure they don't. but who am i to turn down monochrome braintrust or freezerburn divorce?

as for sunnybees, I'm particularly partial to it in terms of like Blake's Beacon Daydreams when she just. lets herself have fun and be a person and experience desire in the theater of her own mind, even if she's not quite brave or secure enough to try and act on it in reality. I don't tend to think of Yang as someone who's attracted to dude-identified people, so that one is more of a "Blake has two hands" situation regardless of timing than it is a fully-balanced equilateral triangle (at least in my heart of hearts).

but also I'll give just about anything a try if I like the author or if the summary seems promising, so!

#leah watches rwby

[dirty-droid]

hit me with your top five dbh moments. OR your top five dbh-flavoured headcanons. orrrr if you’re feeling very generous…both ✨

Thank you so much for asking! Here's the deal though, I mostly play DBH as the Hankcon game so most of my favorite moments with my special little guys.

1. Hank's monologue in the Eden Club backroom.

I could go on and on about this little speech but he's talking around the fact that he wants a real partner and wants to put the work in when it comes to having a relationship and it's so GOOD to think about, because it's in direct opposition to the concept of having a fuckbot, it just- it tells us so much about what's going on in his head, I love the Eden Club arc so much, it says so much about Hank and Connor's relationship.

2. The conversation after Connor kills the Chloe.

This one KILLS ME. I FUCKING LOVE IT. Hank tells Connor that he's just a machine??? And Connor goes, "Of course I'm a machine, lieutenant, what did you think I was?" AND THEN HANK CAN'T ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!! There's so fucking much in the unsaid, I stg, because what did Hank think Connor was?? A person? His friend? Someone who could love him? Someone he could trust? Good stuff.

3. The fight on the roof.

It's EVERYTHING. Connor's anger and frustration are my favorite thing to see, Hank being all strong and proud and majestic, but honestly I just get way too excited about watching them try to kill each other, it's peak sexual tension.

4. Any time we see North go quiet over a violent revolution choice.

I haven't played a revolution route in a while, but my first time doing so really opened my eyes to North's character, seeing how absolutely unhappy she was when she got her way. At first it annoyed and frustrated me, but it made it so clear that she was just frightened and was lashing out. It's hard for her to accept pacifism as an answer, but she does it every time Markus chooses it, and she's so happy to be proven wrong. She just needs some love and support and just wants to feel safe.

5. Markus convincing Connor to deviate.

I actually really didn't like this the first few times, I was definitely on the 'Hank should be the reason Connor deviates' train, but since slipping into rk1k territory, I do see how beautiful it is that Connor needs support from multiple areas to thrive, and how he needed that final push to be a question he couldn't dance around or answer, that he needed to change loyalties completely from cyberlife to the revolution and not just leave cyberlife to be some fucked up lone wolf. And the way Markus does it, the way he zeros in on Connor's frame of reference, state of mind, motivations, Markus is GOOD WITH PEOPLE but this is the ultimate test of his ability to persuade, more so than the demonstration, really.

#dean talks to himself #ask game #hankcon #dbh markus #north dbh

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

Corundum | Mikazuki | Re: Kazuo

[♫♫♫]

For all of her bravado, Mikazuki can still feel her stomach drop when the spotlights start rotating. She closes her eyes as the world spins, her hand gripping Tsuneo’s a little tighter than she intends as if he could get ripped away if she doesn’t hold on enough. That doesn’t stop the series of images that flash in her head, though–slamming steel doors she beats her fist against to no avail, mechanical jaws snapping in the doorway, bullets perceived only once they pierce the body, a woman forcing a smile despite the steady spread of crimson across her body.

She opens her eyes. For a moment, she almost thinks that it’s Hotaru the spotlight is landing on.

No, that’s not who it is. It’s the same script, but there’s a different actor.

And god dammit, they really are just going out of their way to be cruel at this point, with Kazuo of all people. Like the Shepherd or Exalted or whoever is deliberately trying to say ‘see? You’re powerless since I can kill you whenever I want, and there’s no hope since the guy who survived last time is gonna die now!’ 

It’s garish and unsightly, like watching a spoiled child throw a tantrum. 

  Mikazuki didn’t figure Kazuo liked her all that much, especially after her and Tsuneo’s failed attack on Hayato. She recalls telling him that he’d do the same for his wife, and that he’d hated hearing that. Not really because of the insinuation that he was capable of something like that, but more because he didn’t think his wife would ever consider doing that.

She hadn’t quite understood what loving someone like that was like back then, but now that she does it feels a lot more natural that he would say that. Of course he would have faith in his wife. Mikazuki only half remembers what the woman looks like since they had been overwhelmed in the time of the Hysteria, but they're angry that Kazuo is being taken from her all the same.

Kazuo had become someone reliable through everything—maybe that’s why calling him ‘Senpai’ came naturally even as a joke. She recalls the mansion, how the five of them had gelled together, and how Kazuo had told them he could hold back the Devout simply because he was strong enough to do so. And Mikazuki believed it, because Kazuo wasn’t just some self-destructive idiot. He was someone who wouldn’t give up no matter how hard it got.

So that’s how Mikazuki chooses to view Kazuo at this moment. Not as a victim, not as a sacrifice, but as one of the most resilient people she’s met.

“…don’t give them the satisfaction of taking it lying down, alright, Senpai? I believe in you. And…we’ll find your wife.”

She takes what he said to heart. Mikazuki doesn’t know what she’s going to do once she gets revenge, but protecting people that need it might be the kindest thing she’s capable of. 

“I’ll be smart about getting payback going forward, don’t worry. …thanks for everything, Kazuo.”

With that, Mikazuki simply observes what happens next, as if she were paying respects to a fallen comrade. Her claws remain unsheathed and her teeth long to sink into the throat of a spoiled child taking everything from the people on the airship as a gross display of power, but for now, for Kazuo, she remains calm. 

She needs to start keeping score of how many people she needs to avenge, at this rate.

#reaction #ch5 #mikazuki

[decemberelegy]

Endless list of favourite figure skaters → Kaori Sakamoto

#figure skating #fskateedit #kaori sakamoto #i think i prefer this psd. bright colors aren't my style #anyway this was so damn hard to make!! made me realise just how much i enjoy her skating #it's hard to choose just five moments when you love everything she does on the ice #*favefs #*mine

[watchmegetobsessed]

LITTLE THINGS

A/N: this one was insipired by a tiktok but im too lazy to go back to it and link it here sorry, but enjoy this little cute blurb for my fav family!

PAIRING: husband!dad!Harry X Reader

SUMMARY: The twins turn 5 and you start to realize just how much Max is exactly like his daddy.

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

MORE FROM THE ANOTHER ONE UNIVERSE | SUPPORT ME!

Maximilian Beau Styles is the carbon copy of his father. It’s a fact everyone knows in the family and you got to witness Harry raising his mini-me throughout the years, yet it still stuns you seeing Maxie do the little things you love so much about your husband.

As a baby you could only see the features your baby boy inherited from his dad in his looks. His green eyes, the curly mop of hair and the wide, toothy smile (once he had teeth) that never left his lips whenever Harry was around him. When Max finally learned to stand and walk, he was so quick to copy his dad’s dance moves when his favorite songs came on the radio. He was wobbly and out of rhythm, but you could see Harry as he swayed his little baby butt, throwing his hands into the air. That was when you realized your son will be just like his daddy.

Today the twins turn 5. You’ve been an emotional mess all morning, holding them as much as possible, the day they were born is on repeat in your mind nonstop. Hearing their little cry for the first time, seeing their wrinkly little heads laid on your chest, Harry holding them finally and both of you crying from joy for hours, just watching them in awe. You can’t believe it’s been five years you brought your babies to the world!

Maddie is sitting on your lap at the dining table while she is coloring, Leo is having some playtime with Ellie on his mattress in the living room where you can still keep an eye on them and Max is helping Harry prepare lunch. The music of their latest favorite Disney movie is playing through the speakers quietly and you watch your two favorite men work hard for their little family. You even take a photo of the two of them standing at the counter with their back turned to you, Harry wearing your pink apron over his sweatpants and old t-shirt while Max is wearing his own apron that has his name on it. He barely reaches his dad’s waist, so he is standing on a step stool, watching his daddy show him how to make the sauce for the pasta.

That’s when a moment happens that leaves you speechless in the best way possible.

There’s this little move Harry often does when he kicks his heel with his other feet, you’ve seen him do it countless times, on stage, during interviews, even when he accepted his Grammy Award a few years ago and you always found it incredibly cute. But now, when he does it while cutting the tomatoes and his right foot moves behind his left to kick his heel, you notice Max doing the exact same thing in the exact same moment.

Three kicks from both of them and they are back on their feet as usual, but they did it in complete sync and it leaves you stunned how magical it felt to see it happen.

And it has you focused and looking for more of these little things through the whole day.

When lunch is ready and everyone is waiting for you at the table to put Leo into his bouncer seat so you can eat too, when you join them you catch another one. Max is sitting in his seat patiently, eyeing the pasta he helped his dad to make when he does the signature nose scrunching Harry always does. With his features so much like Harry’s, for a moment you feel like you’re looking at the five years old version of your husband sitting across from you and it has you way too emotional.

“Everything alright, Lovie?” Harry asks quietly, squeezing your thigh under the table he does the nose scrunching too.

“Yeah,” you chuckle softly before leaning closer you kiss his nose.

For their birthday, the twins wanted to go to the movies so not long after lunch you drop off Leo at Gemma’s for some aunty time while you take the older bunch to the closest movie theater. They all choose their own snacks and you love seeing the excitement on their faces when they find out the movie is going to be in 3D. The five of you sit in a row, you and Harry on each ends, next to you is Maddie, then Max and Ellie right beside Harry. The movie hasn’t started and you just glance to your left, your eyes falling on Max who is already stuffing his mouth with popcorn and you almost turn back ahead when you notice another little thing.

You’ve teased Harry about the way he sticks his tongue out whenever he is eating and now you see your son do the exact same thing. You can’t believe you haven’t seen him do this. You find it so comical and think about how if anyone would be questioning whether Harry is the father to your kids, they would have to be blind to think that Max is not his. Not that there could ever be any doubt, you need no test to know that Harry was the one who knocked you up three times in the past.

After the movie you pick up Leo and head home, the birthday boy and girl open their gifts and have a massive playtime before dinner, all six of you gathered in the living room, having a blast together.

Soon it’s bed time and it’s your turn to put the twins to sleep today. With Leo in your arms you read them their favorite story and though Maddie is fast asleep by the time you finish reading, Max is still up.

“Good night, my love,” you hum as you kiss his forehead.

“I love you mama,” he mumbles sleepily.

“I love you too, you little handsome prince,” you chuckle and he blushes at the compliment, covering his face with a tiny giggle and it’s another little thing Harry does. You still remember all the times you complimented him on his looks, his music and he turned into a giggling little kid, burying his face in his hands.

With your heart fluttering in your chest you kiss his head once more before standing up from his bed.

“Good night, my birthday babies,” you hum before walking out of the room and closing the door.

You feed Leo and he basically dozes off on your boob so you put him into his crib and finally head to the bedroom. Harry is already lying in bed, scrolling on his phone, probably answering emails he was ignoring all day.

“Have you noticed that your eldest son is the absolute carbon copy of you?” you ask as you walk in and get on the bed with him. Luckily, you already had a shower with Leo so now you can lay down and rest until he’ll wake probably around three in the morning to be fed.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Harry asks, dropping his phone to the nightstand before he pulls you into his arms under the covers.

“I was watching him all day and he does so much of the little things you do. I can’t believe that I went through a twin pregnancy just to bring my husband to the world,” you huff and make Harry laugh.

“It’s not my fault my genes are so strong,” he grins, so pleased with himself.

“I swear to god if Leo turns out to be just like you as well, I’m divorcing you!”

“Don’t do that to me babe,” he whines dramatically before kissing you sloppily on your mouth. “Besides, have you seen the little guy? He looks just like you. So I think our marriage is safe for now.”

“Mhm, he better stay like that,” you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him to you, kissing him long and passionately.

You know you’ll be teasing him about Max being just like him for a long time, but it’s definitely something that’s close to your heart. Why wouldn’t you want your son to be like your husband? Harry is the love of your life and if Maxie turns out to be even just a tiny bit like him, you know he’ll be the most wonderful man.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #dadrry #dad!harry #the another one universe

[bonky-n-steeb]

Steve and the reader are ex-boyfriends, but after the snap they go back to having sex to make up for the sadness he lost for his friends and she lost her boyfriend. and then after they manage to get everyone back they keep having sex and then Dom steve makes her call her boyfriend and break up with him. can write?🤤

Aaaaaaahhhhhh *screams and runs wildly*

who do you belong to?

summary || Steve can’t tolerate sharing what’s his.

warnings || SMUT, BDSM, dom! steve, cheating, unprotected sex, bondage, gags, aftercare, angst. MINORS DNI.

idk if this is a one shot or a drabble…

“Who do you belong to?“ Steve’s voice was rough in your ear and the voice itself made you shiver. You wanted to reply, you really did, but not only was he just fucking your brains out, he had also placed a gag in your mouth.

Steve knew that very well, in fact he was the one who placed it in your mouth, and still he tsked you. “Aww, you poor dumb baby, getting fucked so well that you can’t even say a word.”

You closed your eyes and buried your face in the pillow, not because you were humiliated, but rather you were getting off on it.

Your hands were tied to the headboard as you laid stomach down ass up on the bed as Steve pounded into you from behind. Your face was covered in tears and drool and you loved every second of it.

Your hands clenched in fists, as Steve gave a particularly strong thrust and his cock rubbed against all your right spots.

“Mmrrphh…” was all you could say through the gag. You were honestly surprised when you felt Steve’s fingers unclip your gag and throa it on the table.

“Wanna you hear all your moans.” As if on command on Steve’s words, you moaned. “Now that’s my good girl. He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he? He doesn’t give you what you need.” He said ‘he’ with more hate than you’d ever seen.

“Steveeee… fuck!” You were close and you could feel the coil in your stomach getting taut to the point of snapping. You were sobbing in the sheets as Steve’s thrust became uncoordinated and frantic like he was close too.

“You’re such a whore. You like getting fucked by me, don’t you?” You nodded your head frantically before mustering the strength to speak. “Yes. Please!” The sound of skin slapping was heard throughout and it was making everything even more dirty.

“Clench around my cock, go on. Cum for me!” It was all it took for you to fall down in the deep depth of overwhelming pleasure.

Soon enough, you felt Steve’s thick cum coat your insides and it amplified all the sensations. You felt floaty and this high was what you craved and only Steve could provide.

Once you two calmed down, Steve untied your gently and rubbed your aching wrists before getting a warm wet cloth and cleaning you thoroughly. This aftercare part, the sweet intimacy in those moments, was better than anything else.

“Leave him.” Steve’s voice brought you back. “Huh?” You asked not getting his meaning. “Leave him. And come to me.” His thumb was softly rubbing your skin to comfort you.

You looked away and Steve sighed. “We’ve been together for six goddamn years now! We were together when no one else was there for us and we are together now. I love you and I know you love me.”

You couldn’t deny that. “But it’s not that’s simple.” You said shaking your head. “You’re cheating on him, with your logic that’s not fair to him either. And I know you can’t live without me, so leave him.”

“Steve I’ll think about it.” Steve was absolutely true and you couldn’t tolerate your own failure. “No. Don’t ‘think about it’. Choose, now!” His voice was hard.

“I thought he was dead, Steve and that’s why I came to you. But now that he’s back, he’s still the person from five years back who has no idea about what I went through!” You were crying now and Steve hated it too, but he had to make things clear today.

“It’s been a year since he’s back. I supposed he’s settled well so don’t give me that excuse. Because either you tell him today or I will!” Your eyes snapped up to him.

“You won’t do that.” Steve huffed out a laugh I return. “Try me.” You knew Steve wasn’t a man of empty threats. He said what he meant.

He sat besides you and pulled you into his arms. “Think clearly. Who do you want, me or him?” Steve really hoped you chose him. You breathed in a moment and answered.

“You, I want you Steve.” All these years, slowly you’d fallen for him and now there was no going back. “That’s all the answer I need.” Steve retrieved your phone from the bedside table and dialled your boyfriends number.

When you heard a hello come through, it felt like a stone was placed on your heart. You didn’t love your boyfriend anymore, but you still cared for him. And Steve was right, you cheating on him wasn’t fair.

“Umm,,.. I have to tell you something.” He hummed from the other end and you mentally prepared yourself before speaking.

“In the past five years, I’ve changed a lot. I mean I’m not the same person who you loved back then. And at this point, I don’t think we can continue being who we are. I’m sorry,.. but I think we need to break it off.”

You had prepared this dreaded speech in your head and repeated it out like a parrot. You heard him sigh and chewed your lip nervously.

“Thank god! I’ve been feeling this way too and I didn’t know how to tell you.” When you heard this response you let out a breath you didn’t know were holding.

“Really?” You probably shouldn’t be as happy as you were. The phone was on speaker and Steve was smiling brightly besides you too. “Ah yes, I’ve been thinking about it. I hope you have a great life ahead and I’ll always be a friend when you need one.”

He was a sweet guy and nodded despite knowing he won’t see it. “Same. Thank you for being so understanding though.” You ended the call after sharing a round of goodbyes.

Steve pressed his lips to yours and you melted in the sweet kiss. “Who do you belong to?” Steve breathed against your lips. “You, Steve. Only you.”

#you’ve got mail 💌 #tgif #chris evans #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers series #steve rogers fanfiction #nomad steve rogers

[sukirichi]

— just the two of us

request: I almost read all of your jujutsu kaisen writings and I love it. Your writing is really good! I do not know if a request about a fics🥞 about satoru gojo who is really in love and not very possessive with an oblivious reader. It will be fun to see Satoru try to flirt with her and she doesn't get it🤣

pairings: gojo x oblivious! reader

notes: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTEEE I absolutely loved every second of writing it! thank you for the request and I hope you like this! 🥞 breakfast has been served!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none, other than this is unedited and written humorously rather than seriously~

masterlist !

Gojo doesn’t know whether he’s lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you’ve got no idea he’s so in love with you.

It’s a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to school with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to “get that vitamin D.”

Satoru snickers at your statement, because you’d totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you’d notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if maybe you’d inherited the Six Eyes instead of him, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?

He doesn’t even know where it began. A year ago, Yaga introduced you as the newest staff member. You’d been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried if maybe the kids wouldn’t love. They did, of course, how could they not. Not only were you extremely fun to be with, you’re also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of the students got injured over a mission.

Shoko reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that they’re still only kids and should be out having fun.

Yeah, maybe that’s where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Satoru’s heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave for work, mock-saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don’t get a single thing.

“That café was really good,” you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Satoru sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. “We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the kids with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!”

Satoru masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time Megumi called you mom and dad by accident, to which you happily responded with before tackling the boy in hugs, while the strongest jujutsu sorcerer only flushed in embarrassment.

Him being him though, Satoru played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. “Huh, a dad?” he smirks, “The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N.”

The raven haired first year student immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. “Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don’t see you marrying my mom or anything,” Just as Megumi nearly howls in laughter – another evidence that you’re really something else to get the usually stoic boy to lose his composure like that – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. “Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays.”

Hopeless, Satoru wants to say, you’re absolutely, utterly hopeless.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn’t give up. “How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?”

Say yes, say yes – please say yes.

Really though, he’s waiting for that ‘no’ already. Satoru knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in the countryside, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn’t so easy to find in the city.

But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. “Really? You’d like to go to the movies with me?”

“Of course I would,” Satoru tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he’s completely taken aback. He’s the Gojo Satoru for heaven’s sake, he shouldn’t be this affected by anyone’s presence. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it’s actually happening – his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. “I thought there was a fly,” he lied with a chuckle, “But yeah, Saturday. I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Satoru wouldn’t stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Yuuji had face planted into the ground and Megumi sprained his ankle from training, he wasn’t able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He’s floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.

“Well, you look creepy,” Shoko commented in the faculty room the moment you excused yourself, “Did you land a date with her or something?”

“That I did,” he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.

“I can only hope Y/N makes it out alive,” Nanami announces from behind the newspaper he’s reading, legs crossed over another before he peeks above the paper, narrowed eyes dead set on the blindfolded man. “Don’t be too wild with her, Satoru. She’s a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I humbly suggest you don’t mess with her feelings.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!”

“Who’s cute?”

Shoko nearly spits out her coffee the moment you enter, glancing around the room and sitting down next to a shock-still Satoru. Nanami only huffs in his seat with a shake of his head. It doesn’t take long before Satoru regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he’s turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.

You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you’re so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Satoru chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.

“You’re cute.”

Shoko shudders at the same time Nanami just gives up on everything, folding his paper and lying that he’s got someplace to go with Ichiji. Satoru patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.

You’re silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Satoru ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?

Even Shoko ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Satoru watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of a wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. “Thank you!” you giggle at his compliment, “You and Shoko are very cute too! And the kids too, especially Toge! Not that I’m saying he’s my favourite—”

“He’s definitely your favourite student,” snorts Shoko who is ignoring the way Satoru turns completely gray beside you.

It turns out you still haven’t figured it out after all.

“The kids this – the kids that,” the tall, lanky man whines, his head falling back on the back of the leather couch. He looks so utterly defeated you can’t help but lean over him to check if he’s okay, but Satoru pouts and hides his face under his uniform instead. “Why can it never be just the two of us?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

This time, you’ve kneeled on the couch to hover him. You even pluck one side of his blindfold off to see how he’s doing, and suddenly thankful you can’t see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now. 

“Nothing,” he assures, his smile hidden behind his shirt. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn’t the right time, and Satoru just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. “It’s nothing.”

It’s absolutely not nothing.

Saturday couldn’t come faster.

Satoru finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.

He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It’s another reason why he can’t comprehend why you don’t like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He’s pretty funny too – and his strength and power is already a no-brainer. Satoru can’t wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn’t like him; it’s basically a life or death mission at this point.

With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Satoru sashays out his apartment. Even though it’s already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.

This time around, he’s more than confident. He’s going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, “Wow,” is the first thing he says, pulling his blindfold down just to look at you.

Satoru feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to the countryside and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you’re an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you’re real.

“Wow,” he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. “You look very handsome yourself.”

Satoru’s been called handsome a million times before that it’s gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits different. If he was excited before, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.

He knows it’s not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you’re with, and that he was the one you’re going to the movies with.

All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he’s so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.

His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you’re sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don’t pull away from his thigh flush against yours.

In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.

He doesn’t even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it’s just the two of you.

Satoru reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he’s on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you’re so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It’s clear you don’t like him, after all.

You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.

Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Satoru knows he’s messed up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. “I should’ve gotten my own bowl instead.”

Satoru stares at you through his blindfold. You’re close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he’s so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. “Cold,” he shows you his hand, “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” you nod and slip your fingers through his. Satoru nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Satoru feels like he’s floating in his own Infinite Void right now. “Feel warmer now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “Extremely.”

Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don’t mind touching him at all, Satoru can’t help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It’s just the two of you, and you’re the only one he ever cares about this much that he’d pretty much let you do anything at this point.

“You know,” Satoru begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It’s now or never. “Shoko and Nanami are annoyed that I talk about you all the time.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. “Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?”

“No,” he nearly groans in frustration, “You’re really pretty and cool. You’re amazing during missions, too, when you fight, it’s like I’m witnessing a warrior princess. So cool.”

This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Satoru with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. “Oh, no,” he closes his eyes even behind his blindfold, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t think I’ll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words.”

“Satoru!” you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you’ve both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character’s friend’s death. “What are you going on about?”

He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you’d be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it’s you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn’t something he can’t fix. He’ll get you on the train one way or another.

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror,” Satoru whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn’t even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around you has descended into grief and loneliness. “I also called Nanami on first date tips.”

“Nanami?” you echo with a gasp, “Why Nanami?”

“Because he’s married, that’s why. Mans know some tips for sure.”

“Wait, so,” you chuckle nervously, and Satoru waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He’s patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. “This is a date? Our first date?”

“Only if you want to be,” Satoru shrugs, grimacing afterwards at how sappy he sounds. “Well, I actually consider this our first date and I’ve been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn’t dress myself up today only to come back home crying.”

Satoru’s heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It’s crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn’t complain though; he never will.

“I’m glad,” you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.

Satoru stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He’s feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he’s fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he’s feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?

“You always make me feel so happy when you’re around that I still can’t believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn’t get my hints.”

Satoru groans, “What the hell? How long have you liked me?”

“I guess when you started bringing flowers to Megumi randomly just to piss him off.”

Satoru wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you’ve started working with him, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he’s been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?

“God, Y/N,” he mutters to himself, “You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?”

That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you’re oblivious of everything. Satoru is right; he still can’t decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.

It doesn’t take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life, but Satoru doesn’t rush anything.

With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it’s just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.

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[juletheghoul]

Burning Hour (Part 3)

This series has completely taken over my life and I am so happy you are all enjoying it so much - thank you for all of the lovely messages and comments - I treasure them deeply.

So - you shouldn't be surprised that this particular moment on the red carpet absolutely inspired a scene in this story and I regret nothing. Hope you all enjoy this fantasy that's keeping me going lol.

Din Djarin x F!Reader (Virgin reader)

Pairing: Din x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) Angst, pining, slow-burn, implied arranged marriage, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age) Yearning, jealousy, fingering/touching / slight dirty talk (slightly possessive)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4

—

You floated through the morning.

Your dreams were full of kisses, of declarations of love and beskar glinting under the sun and it was hard to concentrate on anything.

You smiled to yourself as you broke your fast with warm bread and butter, feeling his eyes on you from his place behind your father.

“Your highness-” Your father’s advisor came through the door holding the usual paperwork, things for him to look over, letters to read. “-A letter has come for the Princess.” He turned to you then with a smile. He was an old man, grandfatherly and sweet. He handed it to you and you noticed from the corner of your eye Din’s helmet turn towards you.

It was a small letter and you noticed how beautiful the script was as you opened it.

Dearest Princess,

I would be honoured if you were to join me here at my home for dinner. My messenger awaits your response and if you agree, I will send my personal household guard to accompany you. I also imagine your knight will be in attendance, I welcome him and whoever else you choose to bring at my table. Ruby as well of course.

Hoping you’ll say yes.

Ever yours,

Poe. D.

“It’s from Poe, he asks that I join him this evening for dinner.” You were frowning at the letter, conflicted because you wanted to stay home, wanted to meet Din in the garden again. A tiny part of you however, the tiniest part wanted to say yes - wanted to see how Poe would behave. Part of you wanted him to do something unforgivable to wipe the smiles off your parents faces.

“Oh but you must go!” Your father’s voice boomed through the room and you imagined that you could almost hear Din’s jaw clenching.

“Yes my darling, you must go. What does the letter say?” Your mother held her hand out and you handed it to her. She smiled as she read it. “Din, you must accompany her.” She was smiling big, excited at the prospect of a match having been made. No one bothered to ask if you wanted to go.

“Yes of course, let his messenger know that the Princess will be in attendance. She will go, Din- I leave her safety in your hands. Take you who must.” It had been decided for you, and you had to accept it. You felt Mila’s hand grasp yours under the table in understanding.

-

“Which gown would you like to wear your highness?” She asked sadly as you put on your undergarments and you sighed.

Whichever one makes everyone leave me alone.

“Whichever you think would look best sweetling, I have no preference.” You said the words and they were honest. Yes - Poe was charming and sweet, handsome and in another life you would have been faint with excitement at his interest in you but you were in love with Din. He was the one you wanted to share a meal with. He was the one you wanted to kiss in the open - to have holding your hand as you sat together in front of the hearth. He was the one you wanted in your bed.

“How about this one?” She held out a lovely powder blue gown. You would have said no, something more plain but you had to be seen to be making an effort.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes. She didn’t comment on it.

“I will tie a blue ribbon around Ruby’s neck to match, and I think you have some sapphires as well.” She brought over a tray of jewelry for you to peruse while she laced up your gown.

Your mind drifted to an interesting place. You imagined you were preparing for dinner with Din and imagined your knight picking out jewels for you to wear.

Would he prefer diamonds? Would he like me better in opals or emeralds?

You had a feeling he wouldn’t mind either way, but it was lovely to pretend even for a moment. She placed a dark blue cloak about your shoulders and stood back.

“You look beautiful Princess, the blue looks lovely against your skin.” She held up a silvered looking glass and you saw the reflection of a happy woman, although why she was happy - no one could know.

“Thank you sweetling, let's get this night over with shall we?” You smiled at her as you both made your way outside.

---

Din, along with five of his best knights, waited for her to set out for Damerons home. Damerons own household guard waited as well, having been sent to accompany her and he surveyed them. They seemed competent enough, he gave them their space nonetheless.

It was getting more and more difficult to put the future out of his mind - he knew that the Princess would marry at some point, it was her duty as Queen. She might even marry Poe - he knew that objectively they were a good match but his mind simply couldn’t stay objective. Not when it came to her.

This whole thing was moving faster than he hoped and he didn’t know what he could do about it.

You have to face facts Djarin, you’ll never marry her. You are a knight, she is a Princess, there is no place for you. Maybe you should just let her go.

It was in him to do so, to ignore his feelings for her; to find Gisela and ask her to marry him - have a couple of little ones and pray for things to work out. The harsh words to get her to hate him on the tip of his tongue but they evaporated like dew on a sunny day when he saw her come out to meet him.

She was a gem- a bright, glittering thing that he wanted so desperately to hold onto.

“I am ready Sir, shall we?” She smiled shyly and he nodded.

“Of course Princess, allow me.” He guided her into the wheelhouse, dreading and cherishing every single second.

--

The ride was uneventful, the road was quiet thankfully with nothing to see but long swathes of trees and greenery in the gloaming of the evening.

Ruby was napping softly in your lap but woke quickly when you arrived, her little tail wagging happily at the prospect of exploring.

“Yes my little darling - we are here.” She was in Mila’s arms when you pet her, the two of you waiting for the wheelhouse to come to a stop.

Din opened the door for you, he was helping you climb down when you heard Poe’s voice sounding out.

“Princess, I am so pleased you agreed to come-” He was striding over, his squire on his heels. “-I am happy to see you all. Please - be welcome.” He was smiling big at everyone as his guards retreated, no doubt returning to their posts. He crouched quickly to pet Ruby before approaching you.

“Hello Poe, I thank you for your invitation.” You smiled as you took in your surroundings. His home was a beautiful sprawling estate. He must have been wealthier than you thought. “You must give me a tour of the grounds - I would love to see the gardens.” You smiled at him as he offered you his arm.

“Of course Princess, I will show you whatever you wish after our meal - unless you’d like to go now?” He paused for a moment.

“After dinner would be just fine.” You answered as he guided all of you inside.

--

You weren’t sure what to expect about his home when the letter had come in earlier but it was a pleasant surprise. There were fresh cut flowers everywhere, painstakingly detailed tapestries hung up on the walls as you made your way to the large dining room. Lush carpets and plush chairs, truly a man who enjoyed his comforts.

“You have a lovely home Poe.” You smiled as he led you to your seat.

“I thank you Princess -“ He turned to Din and the other Mandalorians waiting by the table. “-Please, sit with us. I meant what I said, you are all welcome at my table.” He gestured to them to sit.

“I do not wish to intrude, we would be happy to eat with the rest of your household guard.” Din replied, his voice was clipped however.

“Nonsense. I insist, I dare say the Princess would be more comfortable if you were to join us.” He said it with an easy smile and Din hesitated slightly before agreeing. They all sat, lining their helmets up before them.

Din barely spoke.

He had never been one for long speeches - you were unsure whether it was because of the helmet, or just his nature. The other Mandalorians were friendlier and Poe took it all in stride. You could see that he took nothing personal and treated them just as he treated you.

Aside from Din’s cool demeanor and Poe’s etiquette, the dinner went well. The food was wonderful and you didn’t fail to notice some of your favourites on the menu.

“I took the liberty of finding out what you like to eat.” He said it quietly, not wanting to draw attention and you favoured him with a smile. It was hard not to like him, he was very thoughtful.

Once the meal was done, he fulfilled his promise and escorted you outside. It was much more open than the gardens back home - everything illuminated by torches and lanterns. There were flowers and neatly pruned shrubbery surrounding the large building. You noticed a stable on one side, as well a modest greenhouse on the other.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’re used to but I enjoy it. The kennels are just behind the stables and there are flowers and different fruit trees just to the right there - that’s where they get the most sun. I’m afraid the night doesn’t do it justice, it’s much lovelier during the day.” He was walking you through the grounds, your arm tucked under his as your party followed.

“It’s lovely, truly.” You were sincere and you couldn’t help but look up, the sky awash in stars. “I would imagine you must spend a lot of time out here.” You let him guide the way.

“Not as often as I'd like to, but I try. Perhaps when we marry I’ll make more of an effort.” He said it with a wink and you scoffed loudly but without malice.

“Oh is that so? Well then I suppose I’ll have to change some things around since in your mind I’ll live here hm?” Your tone was playful but sarcastic and you were acutely aware of Din following the two of you.

“Oh yes Princess, I am quite sure. My home is yours and you may do with it what you will. I live only to make you happy.” He was just as playful and as annoyed as you were that he was so confident in your union, it was also aggravatingly refreshing to be able to speak to someone so honestly - better yet for them to respond in kind.

You ignored it, Poe was charming, that’s all.

Much to your annoyance, the night was enjoyable. Poe was an excellent host and it was later than you had originally planned when you set off for home. The woods were pitch black in some spots, it made you anxious to ride in the wheelhouse while the world outside seemed like it didn’t exist. The soft light of the moon doing nothing to pierce through the darkness of the road at times.

Reaching the palace had been a relief and you said as much when you stepped out.

“You should have told me Princess, I would have ridden in it with you - if it would have helped.” He spoke as he guided you inside. You had wanted to, but the temptation of having him so close would have been too much - and as much as Mila knew about your feelings towards him - you didn’t want her to see you kissing him.

You patted his arm in silent thanks and he said nothing else.

When you reached your room you hesitated at the door, wanting him to pull you away somewhere but he didn’t - instead he waited until Mila got in. He took his helmet off and you smiled at the state of his hair. Your fingers itched to ruffle through it.

“Princess, if it’s not too late, I would ask you to join me for a midnight ride.” He waited for your answer and your smile widened.

“Of course! Would you permit me to change quickly?” You didn’t want to ride in such a stuffy gown - as beautiful as it was.

“I will wait however long it takes.” He motioned for you to go and you did - urging Mila to help you once you reached your bedchamber.

“The soft linen dress I think - with the long shift and the heavy cloak. I want to be comfortable and warm.” You changed as fast as humanly possible - all but ripping the jewelry off and within a few minutes you were rushing out the door. The two of you making your way towards the stables as silently as possible.

You watched him work deftly, his skilled hands saddling his horse with ease. One horse, not two.

“Are we to ride together?” You looked at him confused.

“Is this a problem for you Princess? I thought it might be quicker to get us to safety should something happen if we were on the same horse. I could saddle you your own if you prefer - we just wouldn’t travel too far.” He hesitated momentarily and your heart leapt at the thought that he would be holding you so closely.

“I trust your judgment Sir, one horse it is.” You kept your voice neutral and he nodded, finishing his work quickly. Once he was done - he helped you up and pulled himself up behind you. The cool beskar pressed up against your back as his arms reached around you to grab the reins.

Your dress pooled up around your thighs slightly, but your legs were covered by your big cloak but it was exciting nonetheless. You felt exposed, with his proximity it excited you way more than it should have. It felt forbidden, taboo and thrilling to have it feel like he was holding you. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning back into his body slightly but he didn’t complain.

The ride through the forest was quiet except for the sound of the night birds, the crickets and the creatures that prowled at this time. The sound of the horses' steps, the sound of its breathing mixing with yours as well as Din’s. He rode through trees, through the little paths only he seemed to know and after a while you were beside a lake. The soft sound of the water kissing the shore added to the nightsong and you were happy that he had brought you here. He had been silent the whole ride, but you felt him take his helmet off behind you and secure it somehow to the saddle.

“You should know that you looked exceptionally lovely today Princess, blue is your colour.” His breath tickled your neck and you shivered. You turned slightly to look back but you couldn’t fully face him, the angle awkward but he kissed you just under your ear to let you know it was okay.

“I thank you Sir, I hoped you would like it.” You leaned back into his arms to tuck your head under his chin.

“You wore that for me? I thought you wore it for Dameron.” His hands came up to hold onto your arms as he pressed little kisses to your neck.

“I always dress for you.” You left it at that, hoping he would understand that despite everything- he was the one you wanted.

“Can I confess something?” His hand came up to slowly undo the cloak tied at your throat.

“Yes, anything.” You answered almost breathlessly, watching his hands open up the cloak to expose your shoulders, the skin of your thighs poking out where the dress had bunched up even more.

“You might think me wicked but, I thought about what it would be like to kiss you.” His hand trailed down as he spoke, rubbing at your thighs over your dress and you watched them in the low light of the moon, mesmerized.

“You’ve kissed me before Sir, you could kiss me now.” You turned a little more but he stopped you.

“I wasn’t thinking about kissing your mouth lovely girl, I was thinking about kissing you somewhere else.” His hands slowly gathered the fabric of your dress, bunching it in his fist - lifting it inch by inch to bare your legs to him. “May I show you where I want to kiss you?” He stopped but you clung onto his arms around you.

“Yes - please show me.” You felt is other hand join the fray and soon he had exposed your lower half to the cool night air. Your undergarments were damp you knew it - the arousal pooling low in your belly at the thought that he might touch you where you most wanted him to. He didn’t disappoint.

His hand trailed up your inner thigh lightly, slowly, up until he skillfully slid it into your undergarments. He groaned deep in his chest when he touched your bare sex.

“Right here. I long to kiss you, taste you here.” His touch was feather light on the lips of your womanhood, slipping along the seam of you. You whimpered, no one had ever touched you here and you felt the slick dripping out of you as you let him explore. “Would you let me Princess? Would you let me bury my tongue right here?” He dipped his fingers low, parting you slightly to dip his fingers just at the entrance - collecting your arousal onto his fingers before slipping them out and bringing them to his mouth behind you. You moaned at the sound of him sucking you off of them and you nodded frantically.

“Yes Din, I would let you - I’m yours.” You moaned the words and his other hand held you in place.

“And I am yours.” He responded before bringing his hand back to where you craved it, this time he spread the lips of your cunt open wide, honing his middle finger on the pearl of your sex. He rubbed tight, slow circles around it and you moaned - trying desperately to open your legs wider. He chuckled darkly behind you.

“Does that feel good Princess?” He turned your face with his other hand, twisting his upper body enough to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, not quite aligned but it sent a shiver of arousal through you and you felt yourself climbing higher and higher- his finger relentless as he sped up a little.

“Yes - Gods yes - it feels so good Din, I thought about you too.” You moaned the words into his mouth. “I think about you touching me like this, when I do it to myself.” He groaned at your confession, his tongue thick in your mouth when he kissed you again.

His finger dipped low to collect more wetness and the glide of it was just right, just slippery enough to send you over the edge and you almost screamed. Your body seizing up with pleasure as your sex clenched around nothing. He cooed into your ear as you rode it out.

“You are intoxicating my lovely one.” He kissed your neck, as he lowered your skirts.

You watched him, blissed out and boneless as he licked his fingers before grabbing the reins again and slowly making his way back to the palace.

-

Mila was snoring softly when you slipped into the room and you were careful not to wake her and as tired as you were from travel it took you a long time to fall asleep. Your heart full of love for Din and a hunger you couldn’t satiate filled your belly. It was a craving for his body, for his kisses, for physical love a woman shared with her husband. You fell asleep hoping - though secretly knowing- that he craved you the same way.

—-

As happy as you were when you awoke the next morning, it was quickly dampened - your father informed you that Poe was to arrive at the Palace as his honoured guest. That he was to stay for a time as a gesture of good will.

You saw right through it.

Your parents had decided that Poe was the suitor they wanted for you and they weren’t being at all subtle.

They informed you with big smiles on their faces, no doubt in hopes of pushing you towards him. It was exhausting - this constant reminder that you would never be truly free to live the life you wanted with Din.

When Poe arrived, he was happy - taking this as a sign that he was winning you over.

“Greetings Princess, I cannot tell you how happy I am to be able to spend more time with you.” He was all smiles and you had no choice but to smile back.

“It will be interesting for sure.” With the way you felt about Din, the intense desire to be around him was at the forefront of your mind. As well as the way Din behaved around Poe, it would definitely be interesting to say the least.

—

Your father invited Poe to dine at your private table, and he engaged him in conversation almost the whole night. They spoke of the future, of how Poe would help rule if he were indeed to marry you. Your mother smiled silently, happy to let the conversation center around the two of you.

Din stood still behind your fathers chair and you wanted nothing more than to pull him to sit with you. To talk to him, kiss him and feed him from your own plate.

“I would want to help people to be quite honest, extend a hand to those that aren’t as fortunate as us. There are people out there starving and that doesn’t sit right with me.” He was honest, to a fault like he said but you admired that.

“That’s very noble of you my boy.” The king nodded.

“It’s very honourable isn’t it my darling?” Your mother smiled at you and you smiled back, nodding around a bite of your food.

“I’m sure the Princess and I could do much and more to help the people who need it the most, if she would let me that is.” He had a shy, genuine smile for you, tentatively reaching over and taking your hand in his. You couldn’t very well snatch it back but you felt Din’s eyes burning into the interaction.

This could get messy.

“Princess, I would humbly ask that you accompany me for a walk through the grounds - chaperoned by your knight of course.” He asked as the remnants of the meal were taken away.

“Oh I’m sure she’d love to join you wouldn’t you sweetling?” Your mother cooed, and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes of course.” You let him guide you, Din following closely behind.

—

“I hope I’m not intruding - I know that the King and Queen are very keen for this to work between us.” He held your hand as you walked arm in arm and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.

“Yes they are aren’t they.” Your tone came out a little more exasperated than you’d hoped but he was well aware that you were not to be swayed by him so easily, you knew he should expect some hesitancy from you.

“I understand that you aren’t impressed and that I am most likely not your first choice. For all I know you might already have your eye on someone else.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at Din. “Regardless of that Princess, I know this must be difficult for you but I beg of you to give me a chance to show you that there is potential here. I believe that in time you might come to love me.” He pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers.

“You are selling yourself quite hard Poe, I appreciate that you understand that my feelings for you aren’t where you want them to be.” You looked up at him apologetically, expecting him to have a sad look on his face but he surprised you; he was smiling - content to listen to you speak.

“I know, it’s not in you right now but I believe you will see me in a different light. I have faith.” He left the conversation there.

——

It was hard to find time to meet with Din, Poe seemed to be everywhere and his determination seemingly had no bounds.

Your mother found you as you dressed for the day - she had a note from Poe. He was asking you to accompany him into town to hand out some supplies. You couldn’t refuse him, not when your mother had delivered it herself.

“Will Din accompany us?” You asked it offhand, your voice neutral - your face a mask of nonchalance.

“No your father is going on a hunt and Din will be protecting him, there will be other guards with you.” She said it with a shake of her hand as she searched your wardrobe for an appropriate dress. “This will do nicely.” She picked out an off the shoulder, deep berry coloured dress that was not at all practical for a day out in the city.

It would have to do.

-

He had taken you to an orphanage in the heart of the city. There were kids running around of all ages and the older ones ran towards Poe when you entered - recognizing him. He had a big smile on his face as they hugged him around the middle, all decorum forgotten.

“Poe did you bring us anything?” A boy of about twelve years was eager, looking around you to the entourage of guards waiting behind you.

“Of course, brought all of you some good stuff like I always do.” He ruffled the boys hair before he held his hand out to you, you smiled and stepped forward. “I have someone very special here with me today, this is the Princess. Come on over and say hello.” He called them over to you and you saw some of the little girls eyes light up. They flocked to you, asking you if you were indeed the Princess. Asked you if you had a crown, and most importantly why you were there. They were precious.

“She’s here to help just like I am.” Poe answered for you.

A little girl of about six pulled on your dress and you lowered yourself slightly to be at her level.

“Princess, I like your dress, you’re so pretty.” She was smiling at you, her hair was a tangle but her eyes were bright.

“Thank you sweetling, you are much prettier I must say.” You moved the hair out of her eyes and she smiled wide, her little hand clutching at a makeshift cloth doll.

You helped Poe hand out toys and new clothes and there was food for them to eat. You spent the day playing with them and learning about their lives. The women who ran the orphanage knew him and you saw that all of the talk of helping the less fortunate was real, he had already been doing much more than you had ever even imagined.

It was hard to deny the little spark of something that he held within you.

He was handsome, he was kind and smart- funny and generous and with the way his eyes found yours throughout the day; he felt something for you. His eyes were piercing, dark and mysterious and for the first time, he gave you butterflies.

One of the little ones was showing you his space within the building, his bed and his tiny toy horse. He was waxing poetic about how one day he would be a knight. You were smiling at him when Poe stood next to you, his gaze heavy and it sent a flush crawling up your neck to light up your ears.

The fabric at his neck was crumpled and you couldn’t help but reach up to fix it, your arm extended over to him and his gaze focused on it, reached up to hold it to his neck. He placed a delicate kiss to your bicep and pulled you closer. The act was small, but so intimate it did something to you. Melted a tiny piece of you that up until now was frozen to him and he saw it on your face. Felt it in the way you let him hold you close, your arm still around his neck, his hand moving down to hold onto your waist.

The little boy was in front of you now, asking Poe if he would ever give him a real horse and he laughed, not unkindly.

“One day my boy, one day I will give you a horse - only if you promise to behave and be on your best behaviour. Can you do that?” The little boy nodded sagely promising he would. You didn’t pull your arm away, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

—-

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[studiojeon]

use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | -   Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee). 

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed. 

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish.  “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes. 

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better. 

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you. 

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face. 

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly. 

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. 

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips. 

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way. 

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were. 

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion. 

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on? 

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week. 

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker. 

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way." 

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while. 

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either. 

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out. 

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside. 

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you. 

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of  his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know". 

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right. 

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?" 

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though. 

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t. 

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

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