#end up an illegible mess and he cannot sTAND IT-

[exoriiens]

sorry , did i interrupt something ? [ choso ]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳 𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝑬 .

@kimuromou

A slow blink followed by a soft hum, as if his brain was rebooting like a computer after a crash. Had he? Apollo couldn't quite remember, he had been so focused initially that it felt like he blacked out at some point.

His hands hurt and the paper he had in front of him was covered in various lines of writing, overlapping one another to the point of being nearly illegible.

A subtle pout formed and overtook the previously near expressionless look he had before. "No. I can't even remember what I was even trying to accomplish..." Apollo mumbled as his brows furrowed in momentary confusion.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi, can I request break up to make up (angst to fluff) story with Jake Kim? It was when Jake running an illegal toto, that time Jake was super busy that he neglected his s/o & his s/o hated that he running an illegal bussiness, then they broke up. After he got out from juvenile, he looked after his s/o to say sorry and try to win his s/o's heart back. Sorry for my bad english & thank you in advance 💙

Anon, your english is pretty fantastic. And even if it isn't, don't apologise for it!

Thanks for the ask and so sorry for the delay!

Jake Kim x Reader: To the end

Gambling arc to juvie release

"I have to do this for Big Deal."

"But this isn't what Big Deal stands for!"

"It's what I need to do for us to survive."

You hate that Jake never looks at you. Not once. Like he's already made up his mind. You were meant to stand with him to the end. He promised.

"You know how much Sinu would hate this!"

"Sinu isn't here anymore." Jake's words hit you like a gut punch.

He catches your lower lip trembling. Those lips he's kissed a thousand times before, and wants to kiss forevermore. Your touch, your taste. It's seared into his memory.

"You're going to ruin other people's lives including your own. I can't watch you do this," you whisper. He's going down a path you cannot and will not follow.

Countless shows and movies and books have misled you. You thought a break up would be screaming, tears, anger. All you feel is empty. Helpless.

Like the Jake Kim you know is slipping between your fingers and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

"I don't want you to neither," Jake holds your hands, thumbs brushing your knuckles. He memorises the feel of your hand in his.

I'm protecting you, he reasons. It's for the best.

He forces the words out, "I think this is the end of the road for us."

How odd to think only a couple days ago you woke up in each other's arms. You thought your love for one another was so obvious, that everyone could practically see a love heart pulsating overhead.

Yet now, so suddenly, you've reached a dead end.

"...If that's what you want," You can't bring yourself to remove your hands from his, to sever the last of your connection.

Big Deal is too dangerous. Your safety is a risk Jake cannot take. The gambling racket is a burden he needs to shoulder. Alone.

"It is," he lies, and lets you go.

He never meets your gaze even as you leave.

It's easier this way.

.

.

"Please Jerry, just write down what I say and deliver it to Y/N."

Even with the visitor's barrier between them, Jake could feel the displeasure radiating off Jerry.

(When Big Deal initially found out about the break up, no-one said a word. They didn't need to. The disagreement with how their leader has handled his own personal relationship was written all over their faces.)

And maybe Jake should let sleeping dogs lie, Jerry certainly thought so. But after ending up in Juvie, he feels like he owes you an explanation. Or at least an apology.

Shame that you are right to the bitter end. The lives he's dragged down with him weigh heavy on his conscience. That young kid - Jiho. Members of Big Deal including Brad, Jason.

What a mess.

.

.

Juvie gives Jake a lot of time to think.

That the quicker you forget about him, the better.

But the thought of forgetting you. Of referring to you as in the past, history, done. Of your face and smile and voice fading from memory. It hurts him more than he can bear.

Every night, drifting off to sleep in a room full of other delinquents, he would allow his thoughts to wander.

What are you doing with your life now? Are you still fretting over your grades? Have you been spending your spare time with friends? Did you go to that new cafe in the end? See that film you were excited for? Have you found someone that could actually make you happy? Do you still think about me? Do you remember the times we had? Do you miss me like I miss you-

Jake imagines the lilt of your voice as you respond, eyes bright and full of life, smile beautiful and beaming.

Other times, the masochism takes hold and under the cloak of darkness, Jake gives into the fantasy of you both living a normal life. An alternate universe where there are no complications, and you are both two kids that simply fell in love.

Eventually, dawn breaks and in the cold light of day, there is no escaping reality.

.

.

"Hi Jake,"

"Y/N?"

It's you. Really you. Is this a nightmare or the most perfect dream? Jerry had delivered the letter and this was the last thing Jake expected. Did he not make it clear enough how dangerous this is for you?

"Yeah... Jerry pulled some strings so I could visit you."

Oh. Well Jerry kept this quiet.

Awkwardness and tension lingers in the air. Neither one of you had spoken or seen each other since that night nearly a year ago.

"Y/N..." Strange that your name feels rusty on Jake's tongue when you are constantly in his thoughts.

"Fuck you," Your vitriol catches him off-guard. Eyes full of fury, lips turned down, "You promised we're a team. You promised you wouldn't leave me out."

You slam the letter against the screen, "This is bullshit, Jake Kim. And you know it."

"How do you not understand this?" Jake's voice starts to rise in frustration, "The danger with Gun and the crews? This is for the best-"

You cut him off with the one and only question that matters to you. That frayed the edge of your sanity for months on end-

"Do you still love me?"

The question stuns him. He considers saying otherwise but he can't refute this. After everything, denying it feels like one lie too far.

Jake doesn't offer anything but a lack of answer is enough for you. For your spark of hope.

"I'll wait for you. I'll see you when you get out."

Your intentions are laid clear. Jake doesn't say no.

.

.

You don't visit again.

However, you give snippets of your life faithfully delivered by Jerry.

It starts as a few sentences, then develops into paragraphs, and finally into pages.

Snapshots of you. Your life, your thoughts. A little like how it used to be.

Jake hears your voice each time he reads your words. Thinks about your furrowed brows or dimpled smile that accompanies. He reads each letter over and over again, until they're dog-earred and turning brittle at the creases.

Even the ones full of anger and hurt.

He responds whenever he can. Treasuring the stationery rewarded for good behaviour, greedily hoarding it all to write back.

Over the weeks and months, the ice starts to thaw.

.

.

On the day Jake is released, the rest of the crew greet him with smiles and signage and "Good to have you back, Sir!"

You're also there. Standing next to Jerry and Big Deal, like you have always belonged.

"Welcome back, Sir," you tease, easily slipping back into old habits.

"You actually waited for me?"

"I said I would."

Of course you did. But Jake couldn't blame you if you changed your mind.

.

.

The conversation continues in his bedroom. Away from prying but well-meaning ears.

Jake has missed this. Being around his things, his crew, his street, you.

"I love you, you idiot. For better or worse."

The underlying tension still remains though you see no point in withholding the depth of your affection.

Jake takes a moment, running your words through his mind. He still needs to ensure you truly understand what being with him means.

"You know how dangerous getting mixed up with Big Deal is, right?" he attempts. You cut him off with a sharp look.

Seriously. If he starts this shit up again. Who does he take you for? Some innocent little girl?

"Fine, fine." Jake holds up both hands as a sign of surrender, before he finally says those words you have been dreaming of:

"I love you too."

(He wonders if he would ever regret this moment of weakness and selfishness, but he sees your smile and knows he could never regret making you happy.)

The tension breaks.

Jake slips easily back into his old habits too, snaking his arms around your waist and capturing your mouth in a kiss.

He has missed this - being yours, most of all.

When you break apart, Jake doesn't shy away from your gaze this time. He intends to keep his promise to you. You're his partner. His equal.

With him to the end.

[theyanderespecialist]

Clef's Bright (Headcanons) Yandere Dr. Alto Clef X Darling Dr. Jack Bright

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter, this one from Tumblr and it will also be made into a YouTube video. Anyway, this will have Yandere Alto Clef X Darling Jack Bright. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter here all my muffins!] 

(Disclaimer: Dr. Alto Clef is Not Yandere in canon! Also, he is not into Dr. Jack Bright in Canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! It is fine to ship and simp for fictional characters and yanderes. Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you! Happy Pride Month! 

Disclaimer number 2: We Do NOT Support Admin Bright on any of my platforms. I do not support Admin Bright! Jack Bright is NO Longer a self-insert of Admin Bright, he is his own stand-alone character, as more people have put time and effort into his character. Still, Admin Bright is a Piece of poo and can rot!) 

-Yandere Headcanons With Alto Clef X Jack Bright From The SCP Foundation Fandom- 

.Now at first Clef and Jack did not get along. 

.Clef unlike a lot of yanderes did not catch the feels for Jack Bright right away. 

.So they had a sort of rivalry going and also Jack Bright kept messing with Clef. 

.When Clef does catch feelings for Jack it happens fast. 

.It was when Jack was being his true self and Clef saw it. 

.This made Clef's heart race and his palms become sweaty. 

.He had for the first time no idea what to say or do and he did not like it. 

.Though since that day, Clef had made it a point to visit Jack at LEAST 3 times a day! 

.Jack had no idea what was wrong with Clef, and it was starting to weird him out. 

.Clef also got very protective over Jack and if anyone got too close to him, well they would end up dead, or worse tortured and then dead. 

.Jack being Jack did not notice the connection. 

.Clef is also the type of yandere that will do a butt ton of research on his darling. 

.So you know, he is digging into ALL of Jack's files and learning the many rules that Jack Bright is not allowed to do at the foundation. 

.Clef has become quickly obsessed with Jack Bright and there is no stopping him. 

.Clef would still lie to Jack, he cannot tell Jack that he is in love with him, or that he wants him. 

.So for the longest time there will be so many lies from Clef on why he does the things that he does for Jack. 

.Clef also would start to watch Jack on cameras, to see where he is when Clef cannot be with him. 

.If Clef had any rivals, they were sure not to last long. 

.Clef is also immune to Jack Bright's amulet that Jack's soul is bound to. 

.So If Clef ever wants to punish Jack, He will sneak up and remove Jack's amulet and put him on a high shelf. 

.That is right Clef puts Jack Bright into time out. 

.Clef does not the best history with love or romance, and he is not good at telling someone how he feels. 

.But when he does love someone he will put his life on the line for them. 

.During a breach if Jack is about to be hurt, Clef would snap and lose his shit, and go absolute assault machine mode, killing anything and everything in his way! 

.This would also be where he tells Bright how he feels pinning him up against the wall and kissing him. 

.He refuses to let Jack Bright Die, and he will slaughter anyone or anything that tries to harm his Jack Bright!

.It does not matter If Jack Bright accepts his love or not, Clef has Already snapped, and with the advantage of the breach he knocks Jack out and drags him to his room. 

.He would deal with the Cameras and such in a bit, until Jack learned to be a good boy, Clef was not letting him go and he was going to keep his sweet Jack nice and safe. 

.No One would ever hurt HIS Jack Bright ever again! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS finally got this one done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of My Sexy Muffins!] 

[redjaybathood]

I really want a Jason Tood as Red Hood movie, but like, nearly classic Red Hood. Expressionless helmet, tiny white eyes, form fitting leather jacket, no bat on his chest and barely using guns.

Specifically I want him taking apart some CADMUS operation or other government thing making child soldiers. It'd be more in the vain of John Wick the first, than the usual action beat-em ups.

Though I do imagine him fighting Bane maybe solely for this exchange.

Bane: You stand against the man who broke the bat, what can one of his errand boys do? Jason: Yeah I beat him up too. Unlike yourself though I did not need to break out all of Arkham to wear him down first. But hey, we can't all be winners.

Also him hacking and erasing all the info and specifically choosing to kill the head scientist as he's the only one who has all the info memorized (its a back sight there are no back ups) and crush their head solely cos its pragmatic, showing his kills are strategic.

Yeah, okay, I'm a man of simple pleasures, like Jason moving through the crowd of enemies with whatever he has on hand. And taking down enemies bigger than him, with brains to rival the muscle.

But also, consider this, just a few suggestions to make a mess out of Jason's usual MO.

1) who guards the lab with child soldiers? Child soldiers. Now, suddenly he cannot mow the guards down

2) I humbly propose the following children: Cloud 9, Babe in Arms, DNA, Doomed, and Devour - as the child soldiers in question

3) Killing the head scientist will solve the problem with this particular lab, but not overall with the principle of the thing that someone, somewhere, signed off on it; put together a budget; provided supplies; etc etc. And killing those people, most of them paper-pushers, not all of them fully aware of what's going on, just being good soldiers, just doing what they're told and not asking questions... It won't solve the issue.

4) And, you know, sometimes dumping the whole thing on Internet and making public outrage do its thing is helpful, especially in a re-election year, but a Congressal hearing is a must, too. This one is going to be the biggest since MKUltra, bigger than Facebook even. Hopefully, more successful.

5) Jason doesn't trust the system but that's the thing, the system needs to be checked, and the system needs to be changed if found lacking. He can't do it alone, so he asks basically everyone there is for help, everyone who ever owed him a favor. The list of those includes, but is not limited to, the whole Batfam, Batman Inc, and misc Gotham vigilantes; Titans, late 80-s iteration; Talia al Ghul; Wilson family (Slade didn't wave the fee but he gave a discount because he also has a bone to pick with people who do experiments on children to turn them into weapons); Outlaws. From the legal side of things, Kate Spencer/Manhunter (hell yeah a US government vs Gen O lawsuit), from the political, Barbara Gordon, who was at this point the mayor of Gotham and is running for the governor.

The head scientist had died in a freak accident (very sad) but other scientists become the first ones to be prosecuted for illegal human experimentation. As does the guys from the government side who put them up to it.

(this could have ended very differently, bc at first I came up with a scenario where Jason has to give himself up for the case to move forward; he would then be tried as a terrorist and be given death penalty, where, after the sentence is carried out, he's found by Harvey Dent - and he decides to join him bc a) he's dead anyway and b) to go undercover and ensure no funny business here)

[toothlesshat]

I'm back friend! I have finished reading Of Donnies and Donatellos and I LOVE IT. I didn't cry but I did tear up by the third paragraph. I have such a soft spot for Donatello. He's my favorite and has his own little section in my heart. This goofy nerdy turtle with his ridiculous tooth gap, UGH.

No but I love how you talked about how inferior he feels to Donnie. As much as I love the idea that the Rise boys and 2012 boys would get along with each other, I love that you have written how much they wouldn't. There is such a difference between the two of them and I feel like it would be a hard bridge to gap. Donatello feeling inferior towards Donnie because his tech isn't as impressive or he doesn't feel as smart is so REAL. (The first thing I noticed when I watched Rise was how different Donnie's tech is from previous versions. It's so CLEAN. Like how does he manage that?? ((Shoutout to the other Donnie's though, they were building things out of garbage and scrapped parts, that is still talent if you ask me)). )

But I love how you addressed Donnie's feelings too. I enjoyed your portrayal of him. We all know he seeks validation but for him to also feel like he NEEDS to build tech for family, I never thought of that before. Or how freeing it is for Donatello because his family never asks him to build him anything(even though he would if they did) and he doesn't because he doesn't feel like he has anything to prove to them in that way. They know he's smart and they know he is capable.

UGH AND THE AWKWARDNESS BETWEEN THEM IS SO REAL. You cannot tell me they would immediately get along if EVER. Both of them are these sarcastic awkward purple turtle boys who struggle to communicate their feelings properly.

AND THE SCENE WHERE RAPH AND LEONARDO COME IN. I think that was my favorite, both of them having to face down their over protective big brothers. I loved it so much.

AND HOW LONELY DONATELLO IS THROUGHOUT. I FEEL for him so bad. All his brothers are having a great time and now he is miserable and he can't stand his counterpart and he feels so useless and I WANNA GIVE HIM A HUG.

AND THE ILLEGAL CLIFFHANGER YOU DROPPED ON US. I am so hyped for the rest of it. I have no idea how Donatello is going to fix that mess because Donnie clearly shut down now. But I am excited to see it happen.

Thank you for writing this. It's going so good and I love it so much. Sorry for this rant I just have so much to say about it. Thank you though :)

ANON YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR RANTS like writing these fics are already rewarding in themselves but then I get someone lovely like you who comes in and gives me a detailed comment like this and- AGH I CAN'T EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVE IT ENOUGH

I really feel like you saw what I was going for here! They're awkward with one another because of how drastically different they are in personality and how unwilling they are to express themselves even when its needed. Donatello's inferiority is something I wanted to focus on the most because I feel like it was a decently big deal in the series?? And it didn't feel properly addressed by the end to me?? Like it's all framed as him having an unrequited crush but we can easily catch on that Donatello is terrified of being abandoned, so throwing him in a world where his counterpart is, by all means, more advanced than him is like kicking him off a building in terms of his self esteem.

For Donnie though, I always thought he got his arc wrapped up decently in the series, but upon rewatch of the movie I realized that he... arguably does the least in the final fight? Or has the smallest influence (given that Raph breaks free from the Kraang, Leo is literally leading them and Mikey is the one who saves Leo) and I personally didn't think this was a problem, but when taking into account how Donnie feels about himself and what his tech usually represents (trust me, it's ALWAYS made with the intention of helping his brothers in one way or another. ALWAYS. he's not nearly as selfish as we think), everything kind of fell into place!

Anyway, that was a random ramble of my thought process. I'm really happy you enjoyed it and I just want to say thank you so, so much for reading! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

[ay-chuu]

Hello there! Can I get a twisted wonderland matchup? Starting off with my appearance I'm chubby and 5'1 with long ginger hair. I am a short king :). Regarding mbti I'm an ENTP. Also, with my personality my friends would describe me as "bubbly, weird, smart, honest, and kind". I asked em for traits for random internet quizzes so that's what they told me lol. Despite being a bit of an extrovert I also highly value my alone time to the degree I can become quite introverted. Moving onto hobbies I like playing video games, watching YouTube videos on random topics I'm interested in, listening to music, and reading. My favorite games tend to be RPGs. My fav games are probs Dragon Age, Skyrim, and Tomodachi life. I love to create characters in games and explore, and I especially enjoy building houses in games. Idk why but building houses gives me such joy. My favorite part of Skyrim is unironically the dlc that lets you build a house. I love to build that house and then get a husband and some kids. I consider that my end game goal verses the main quest which I've never actually finished despite putting 200 hours into Skyrim. For movies well I don't rlly watch movies much but my favorite series is probably star wars. Especially the prequels because I enjoy the characters more in those films and all the lore it adds. For music I kinda listen to everything, but my favorite artist is probably Hozier. The only genre I dislike is screamo probs. For things I hate uhhh I guess I dislike bugs, being put under pressure, and small spaces as I'm claustrophobic. Finally, going onto favorite idol I am going to go with a hisotrical example as I also love to learn about hisotry. I have many examples I could pick for figures I admire, but I'll go with a more famous example, Oscar Wilde. Just in case you don't know, Oscar wilde was a famous Irish author and playwright during the late 1800s. He was quite controversial for his opinions on art and morality, and he was a gay man at time where that was illegal. All of this lead up to him eventually getting arrested and jailed. I admire him because he didn't care that society thought he was wrong and immoral, he lived his life and gave his opinions despite it. Anyway that's it thanks!

You're very welcome! (´꒳`)♡

I match you with... (っ＾▿＾)💨

ACE TRAPPOLA (pls ignore the gif i only could find that T^T)

I always thought ESFP and ENTP were one of the most compatible couples! Because the feature that some cannot provide against life, the other provides both for theirself and for their partner <3 I think Ace is very supportive in general, but because he is a tsundere, he only clearly shows it to someone he is very close to. he loves your life idol and way of thinking!

You used to make fun of each other a lot at first, but then you suddenly fell in love with each other and Deuce was like "🧍🏻" between you LOL SDFKGLSDFJGLJDF While you liked his secret softness, supportiveness, sincerity and liveliness in general, he loved your intelligence, funnyness, kindness and self-confidence. Opening up to each other was thanks to Deuce, but the moment you did it, you both realized that you both completed each other.

If there is going to be a problem in your relationship, I think it's because Ace is too sarcastic when he's angry sometimes and you can't stand it and annoy him even more with clever answers. Usually this ends in fights and the fights are quite childish. After about a week, even though you miss each other, you can't break your pride. As a result grim and deuce will be together and reconcile you somehow because GOD you are irresistible you love birds LMAO.

Finally, some moments I dream of for you two: Entertaining each other while studying the lessons you have difficulty with, a sweet Ace who tries to comment on what you read to him even if he is not smart enough, you mess up and end up in Crowley's room while trying the action in the youtube video you watched, one of the rare and weird but cute moments you experience expressing your love for each other in words and kissing - grim saw that kiss he says its remains traumatic JKLASDF - and finally, when you realize that you will support each other no matter what in your life, you hold your hands tighter and look at each other and smile <3

[the-firebird69]

We are going to court tomorrow to remove Jonathan to remillard as trustee and we're pulling him off and he either sells his share or we take it we're going to do it using the law and we will end up taking him out of the sheriff's office tomorrow too we can't stand him what he's doing is extremely illegal and he tells everybody and bja is going to spearheaded he says and he wants his stuff and the idiots going to pressure our son and try and evict him when he's going to get evicted how that was working was first off he was evicting himself but he's been losing share and as a trustee he only has a small amount left believe it or not he has less than about 30%, someone say 40% but he has less than that it's about 37% and he does not have controlling share and he has the most chair but when it comes down to it we can get together and say that he cannot do this or that and that's been happening we have been negating what he's been saying to do and we don't want him ruining properties devaluing them and stopping maintenance and we're keeping the maintenance and I keep going and he is a horse's ass this guy is The biggest loser we're in a meeting and we're saying you don't want to do this to save two dollars you know where we are any of those you can't say that and he starts saying all this s*** and we get up and we say you're not the king of us there's a democracy for real I need to just shut your mouth and he says no you're attacking us I said we're attacking you because you're doing this dumb s*** and you've been doing it the whole time and you started losing and you think you're not and it's horrifying you're so damn dumb this kid wants you out of there so badly he's asked everybody on Earth to sign a petition to remove you from every office that you have and if your people support you to get rid of them and we said that in the meeting and he said so he's gone and stuff like that and people said okay and he started these outbursts every few minutes he started screaming I have a right to this and a right to that and he doesn't have a right to anything and he's been stealing planes and doing all sorts of dumb things and he still has a ton of money and he's a big loser. But the reasons for the real estate transaction is that he's been losing share last year and nobody would know it he had about 80% and we worked him down to about 37% of all the properties and here in punta Gorda he has less than 30% share in all the properties and although it's less he has people who side with him a little and people are not going to decide with him tomorrow and he's going to be forced to out of the organization because he doesn't have control and share and that is what's happening the bottom part is Stan

Biden

Good God he didn't know any of that and he's just telling him off and he says I can move out and the idiot heard it and Stan was provoking that and it worked and he had to do it it really is this guy's Trump doing this weird stuff he is a massive loser his point is apple juice out every encounter with this guy is just a dangerous one and he acts like a complete an absolute enemy and a sabotaging his stuff getting the way of everything it's misery because of this loser and the foreigners thought they were doing some stuff to make it bad and they see him now and he's going down his people are completely crazy and there's more than just him and years and years ago and it's going to be over soon he'll be dead finally

Camilla

He messed with my brother and my brother is always saying don't do this stupid and he goes ahead and does it and he pays and yeah bja is pushing it and pushing him and bja is in trouble and he's not going to be part of the game either he's in a horrible situation shortly and it's because they refuse to get along and are doing really stupid things it hasn't worked for years they have not been effective for years and they're deluded thinking they have the AI and really everybody says they're pushing it on them but no they're just stupid

Ziggy Stardust

We have to tell you we're not used to the name but it was me at the bottom of Biden statement and really this thing is terrible it's mincing words and all these idiots are trying to do stuff he's trying to pair the phone and he had to stop I mean for Christ's sake you turn around you like rats you just screwing around trying to shoot you off every few seconds come on this is not that way it shouldn't be and you're acting like it is as an act and you're destroying yourself you look something he says thank God because it stops but really. And the roof is halfway done mostly and they're fast you said it's like 20 minutes or 25 minutes and it was half done so you look at the building department and you look at John remillard and you'll see that neither has their stuff together and they're fighting over it so the delay is coming because they're fighting and they want to prove it without a signature from him and we can't get the dumb computer to do it but I have to straighten that out and once I do submit it and it should be the end of it but for crying out loud this is taking almost 2 years to get done because everybody's in the way the stupid roof because Tommy f doesn't want to have evidence of damage and because of trump wants to go through that rotted spot that he was forced to fix himself and he did the whole thing and he's complaining the whole time and yet he did it and now he's going to be pushed out by everyone and we have confidence for tomorrow bja hates him and wants to take his place and doesn't necessarily want to kick him out right away and they're stupid okay just saying it to his face and he's saying well then go f*** yourself I don't want to sleep with the bugs you dumb wigger and really he's pissed off and who wouldn't be he says he's going to kill them for it and I see his right answer I see what's happening to them and they're dying if she doesn't want bugs in his brain or in his body and people are disgusted by them they attack him with bugs all the time and they hardly come near him because he smells funny and bugs die when they bite him I don't know about that but these f****** losers won't let it happen he says he can take poison and it takes it in every once awhile and it's iodine and other things and his blood is not compatible with all the stuff he's humanoid but gigantis and I see something you people are picking on him and don't even say that and now you're going to and he says he's got backing and his brother is going to kick their ass and I don't understand what your problem is but really it's probably to drive him out and he says his Force has to do stuff and everyone else and his brother knew it and has laid all the stuff out and it's being said but really you people are disgusting we don't want to deal with you ever again but he's been doing is really it's this demented kid s*** your children and your demented it's like foreigners have been exposed too much radiation in your children it's what you sound like it's horrific you're a nightmare and you're massive losers you are losing everything that you have ever had it's going right out the door and it's true I'm extremely happy that the roof is getting done I'm very happy that people are doing it but this John Lord guy he needs to f*** off forever he needs to not ever come here again and yet he's here in our face tomorrow we're going to court and he has 37% left and I'm going to whittle it down to about 15% and they won't have signatory power and he's going to try all sorts of other s*** and we're getting ready for that and yeah he's a loser

Stan he's also got interest in the hospitals and he does not have anything in the prisons anymore at least I'm seeing that okay so he's threatening he has like 50% of the hospital and that's controlling share so people are going after him tonight

Olympus

[steven-g-rogers]

Steve laughed.  “Oh yeah. It would be terrible to mess up that image.  You know, I admire that.”  He paused as he gathered his thoughts because it would be very easy for what he was about to say to be taken the wrong way.  “I worry about doing things that will end up being politicized.  Like - take my sexuality.  I come out publicly and now it’s not my sexuality anymore.  It’s everyones.  And in some ways it’s good.  Other queer people can see me wearing the flag and think, he really does represent me.  But on the flip side it’s right wing people saying I’m corrupt or not worthy of the uniform. Or my story about living in a brothel.  Right now it’s just my life.  It’s a thing that happened.  But I tell the public about it, suddenly I’m entering a debate about sex work. Everything that is just me, everything I do, or say, or am perceived as, I need to consider how it will be interpreted?  Is it the message I want to put out there?  Can people get the wrong idea?  Will I need to research the topic first so that when I’m questioned about it I’m educated as well as going off feelings or experience?  If I was seen as a playboy, I’d have to consider what people would take that as me endorsing.  Would it be seen as something good, like I’m standing up for people having healthy, fulfilling sex lives, or would it be seen as something bad like not valuing people’s feelings or seeing women as consumable products.  I don’t know, maybe you do think about things like that.  Maybe I’m just rambling.  I guess I’d just like to be able to be me and not worry about optics.” 

He laughed softly and nodded.  He quite liked the way Tony leaned in like that.  He nudged him as he began to talk.  “It was interesting.  They were really nice women.  I got sick a few times and they nursed me back.  It was like having a bunch of moms.”  He laughed again.  “It was nothing big.  Changing washers or lightbulbs.  Just the kind of things that the super should do, only he never did because those women were doing something illegal so they couldn’t call the authorities.” 

He whistled at the confession.  “I didn’t know that.  I cannot imagine your dad being the kind of guy who was okay hyphenating his kids name.  He loved putting his name on everything.  I quite like that your mom got her name in there too.” 

"I'm not closing myself off..." His voice trails off as the inventor quietly thinks over exactly how to word what he wanted to say. "I am just not holding out hope for anything, y'know? Don't want to get my hopes up for anything that isn't very likely. Plus, it would really screw up my playboy image, can't have that." Joking to deflect from the topic does he try to steer it away onto something else that isn't his deeply depressing love life. His hand goes to cover the Captain's as a show of thanks, giving it a pat as the Iron Avenger appreciated the blond for attempting to make him feel better.

Brows raise at the mention of a brothel and he leans closer, elbows resting on his knees and propping his head up with his hands as the inventor is excited at the prospect of learning something new. "That certainly wasn't in any of the stories I've heard. That must have been an interesting place to live, also didn't know you were also a handyman in your own right. Here I am getting stuck with all the maintenance requests when I could have been getting you to help me the whole time."

Ah. it was his turn. As fair as it was Tony didn't know what to do, Steve shared something about himself so now he had to. What exactly could he say? Living a life in the spotlight meant there was very little that people couldn't find out about him online or from the many news papers he'd been featured in over the years. It was hard to think of what wasn't part of his public persona that was uniquely him. "Tony Carbonell-Stark, I don't use my actual name often just because only using Stark is better for branding and publicity. The Stark legacy and all that jazz, looks good to show a direct connection to the past CEO and founder of the company. Technically I've had it changed but I still use it occasionally, that's something you won't find out from anywhere else."

[animeomegas]

Who is the most needy while in heat?

I decided to write for a few characters for different categories: Clingiest, Horniest, Territorial and Requires Support. Enjoy~

Who is the clingiest:

1.     Itachi – Itachi has only ever had soft heats in his life(heats that are not sexually, but instead emotionally charged). He didn’t have his first heat until he was already part of the Akatsuki and didn’t feel safe enough for a proper heat. His health also isn’t the best, so his body knows to have soft heats rather than normal heats. Because he only has these types of heats, they are very strong. He feels a constant urge to be by your side, ideally with you touching him at all times. He can’t take suppressants because they mess with his illness, so he can’t minimise the effects. He spends the two days holed up in his room, the door locked and sealed shut. He won’t let you leave his nest much, growling and whining if you try. His instincts are screaming at him that he has to protect you and that you have to protect him. He can get a little addled and confused because the impulses are too strong. He’s extremely clingy in heat and he hates it. He always feels embarrassed afterwards.

2.     Izuku – Izuku is prone to crying and feeling very rejected if you neglect him during his preheat or heat. He feels the sting of rejection very strongly and feeling abandoned during a heat is… not good for omegas to put it lightly. It can make them sick if it’s serious enough. So, Izuku will definitely try and keep you in his nest as much as possible, asking wordlessly to be carried with you if you need to leave for a moment. Going to work or leaving the house during his heats (even when he’s on suppressants) is a no-no for him. He will do anything to get you to stay with him, including but not limited to hiding your keys, seducing you, and begging.

3.     Mammon – From the second he’s in preheat, he literally will not leave you alone. He’s very attention starved, but his slight tsundere tendencies keep him from acting on his need for affection. His heat and preheat remove the tsundere tendencies and make him even more desperate for attention. He’s hanging off of his Alpha constantly, following them around and sleeping in their room. He enjoys laying on top of them while they stroke his hair or rub his back. Will growl away anyone who tries to take you from him. If the growling doesn’t work, he’ll whine at you to stay with him because he knows you can’t refuse him when he’s like that.

4.     Kaoru – He doesn’t like how clingy he is, but it’s very uncomfortable for an omega to ignore their heat urges, so he doesn’t bother trying to resist it. He’s very prone to loneliness when he’s in heat or preheat, so he likes it if you’re with him as much as possible. He will spend most the time sitting on your lap, innocently and not so innocently.

5.     L – He isn’t particularly fussed about constant physical affection, but he wants you to be in the same room as him at all times. He constantly turns away from his work to make sure you’re still sitting in the room with him, and in the evenings, he likes if he can sit on your lap while he works. His heats are reduced from suppressants, and his libido is very low generally, but he still likes to make sure his alpha is safe and with him during his heat and be surrounded by his alpha’s scent.

Who is the most territorial during heat:

1.     Sasuke – Will straight up growl at anyone who gets too close to you both, and it won’t end well if someone shows up at his house when he’s in heat. Sasuke immediately views whoever it is as a threat and would likely try and attack them, especially if they were a stranger or someone he didn’t like. He is a lot less stressed during this time if you both just hole up at home for his preheat and heat. One of the reasons he makes his nest in a walk in wardrobe is because it’s an easily defendable place.

2.     Shikamaru ��� He has to have an arm around you or vice versa at all times. He makes sure you always smell like him during his preheats, just as a warning to other omegas. In heat, he gets very intense and caught up in the feelings, so interruptions from outsiders will be jarring and he’s likely to react aggressively.

3.     Shinsou – Is very paranoid when in heat and preheat. He gets nervous about people coming to try and hurt him and his mate while he’s weak, so he doesn’t like anyone he doesn’t know around you or him. Shinsou is fiercely protective of his family and his alpha. When he’s actually in heat, he would probably try to attack anyone who got too close.

4.     Belphie – Likes to just lay down and sleep with you when he’s in preheat, and whenever any of his brothers (or anyone else) try and get you to move, he growls them away, wrapping his arms around your chest to stop you from going anywhere. Would definitely bite someone if they were brave enough to try and remove him from you by force. When he’s in heat, he uses compulsion charms to keep people away from the attic where he likes to spend his heat with you.

5.     Diavolo – He can’t keep his hands or lips off of his alpha during preheat, but not just in a horny way, mainly in a ‘they’re mine’ kind of way. He likes to show off his relationship to others as a warning to stay away. He is delightfully smug if you return the treatment.

6.     Kusuo – He pretends he isn’t being territorial when he’s in preheat, but whenever you end up in conversation with someone, Kusuo is just suddenly standing next to you, I wonder how that happened? He also makes a way greater effort to ditch anyone who might interrupt his alone time with you. He turns his friends away if they show up at his door when he’s in preheat. When in heat, he gets off on the ‘you’re mine and I’m yours’ aspect.

7.     Light – This boy in greedy for your attention when he’s in preheat, and very bitter if he doesn’t get enough of it. He directs most of his anger at anyone who he perceives as taking you away from him. He will lie and manipulate others away from you both during this time with zero hesitation or regret. Would be possessive if you gave too much attention to a book while he’s in heat.

Who needs the most support:

1.     Alois – I headcanon that Alois has some specific heat related trauma, that I’m not going to get into right now, that impacts him greatly. His alpha is his protection. He only feels safe during his heat if you’re there with him. If you leave him alone, even just for a minute, he will panic, fear mixing with his already heat addled brain. For that reason, he needs a great deal of support, he needs a gentle touch and a constant presence.

2.     Shouto – His father paid to have him on illegal grade suppressant without him knowing just after Shouto’s quirk came in. Endeavour got the quirk he wanted, but not the dynamic he wanted, so he tried to change that. He experiences similar heats to Neji when he first comes off of suppressants. He’s so sensitive everywhere that it hurts. He wants to be touched so badly, but it hurts him. His alpha needs to work with him slowly to help him overcome the sensitivity.

3.     Neji – I mentioned before that due to the suppressant abuse that was inflicted on Neji as a child, his heats can be very painful, especially at first, much like Shouto. For a more in-depth analysis, I have headcanons on Neji’s suppressant abuse listed on my pinned masterlist.

4.     Keigo (Hawks) – He suffers from really bad paranoia during his heats. At first, it’s unclear what’s triggering the paranoia, but eventually it becomes clear that his treatment in the hands of the Commission have left him some nasty mental scars. When Keigo is in heat, he needs to have the door locked and bolted, the windows lock and covered with thick curtains and blinds, he needs to be rid of all technology or anything a person could use to contact him, and he needs all supplies to be in his nest with him so that neither you nor him have to leave that one room. It’s why the room he nests in must have an ensuite. He tends to have soft heats (emotionally charge rather than sexually charged) because his paranoia makes his body think he’s in too much danger to have a proper heat. It’s lucky that his heats normally only last for a day.

 (N-sfw under cut~)

Who is the horniest:

1.     Sebastian – He barely manages to keep it together during the day when he has to serve Ciel, but at night? You better be fucking him so well that he can’t stay coherent. He needs a full eight hours of sex before the heat withdraws enough for him to focus. A demon’s heat is very intensive after all.

2.     Kakashi – Every little thing sets him off when he’s in heat. Maybe you knotted him and the heat is subsiding a little, but then you bit your lip or stretch in a certain way, and immediately he’s consumed by his heat again. He struggles to keep it in his trousers long enough to hydrate and sleep. Sometimes he needs to cockwarm his alpha just to be able to calm his instincts enough to sleep.

3.     Tamaki A – He gets so horny at the peaks of his heat that any and all nervousness completely vanishes. He will beg his alpha shamelessly to get what he needs. He cannot control his voice at all, so you better hope your neighbours are forgiving, because Amajiki shouts some filthy things when he feels really good.

4.     Asmo – No one is surprised that he is completely and overwhelmingly horny for his entire heat. Most omegas have down moments for resting and hydrating while their heat isn’t so bad. Not Asmo. His heat lasts for three days (a maximum amount) and is intense for all of it. You have to make him to eat and drink something while he begs and writhes on your lap for you to fuck him.

5.     Kiba – Has a very high sex drive in general, even when he’s not in heat, so it’s no surprise that he’s basically insatiable when he’s in heat. He jumps his alpha five times a day when he’s in preheat, and every hour when he’s in heat. If you can’t provide for him as often as he needs, he will absolutely buy a knotted dildo and use it while he’s on top of you. Most of the time that convinces his alpha to help him get off.

[theyanderespecialist]

Clef's Bright (Headcanons) Yandere Dr. Alto Clef X Darling Dr. Jack Bright

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter, this one from Tumblr and it will also be made into a YouTube video. Anyway, this will have Yandere Alto Clef X Darling Jack Bright. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter here all my muffins!] 

(Disclaimer: Dr. Alto Clef is Not Yandere in canon! Also, he is not into Dr. Jack Bright in Canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! It is fine to ship and simp for fictional characters and yanderes. Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you! Happy Pride Month! 

Disclaimer number 2: We Do NOT Support Admin Bright on any of my platforms. I do not support Admin Bright! Jack Bright is NO Longer a self-insert of Admin Bright, he is his own stand-alone character, as more people have put time and effort into his character. Still, Admin Bright is a Piece of poo and can rot!) 

-Yandere Headcanons With Alto Clef X Jack Bright From The SCP Foundation Fandom- 

.Now at first Clef and Jack did not get along. 

.Clef unlike a lot of yanderes did not catch the feels for Jack Bright right away. 

.So they had a sort of rivalry going and also Jack Bright kept messing with Clef. 

.When Clef does catch feelings for Jack it happens fast. 

.It was when Jack was being his true self and Clef saw it. 

.This made Clef's heart race and his palms become sweaty. 

.He had for the first time no idea what to say or do and he did not like it. 

.Though since that day, Clef had made it a point to visit Jack at LEAST 3 times a day! 

.Jack had no idea what was wrong with Clef, and it was starting to weird him out. 

.Clef also got very protective over Jack and if anyone got too close to him, well they would end up dead, or worse tortured and then dead. 

.Jack being Jack did not notice the connection. 

.Clef is also the type of yandere that will do a butt ton of research on his darling. 

.So you know, he is digging into ALL of Jack's files and learning the many rules that Jack Bright is not allowed to do at the foundation. 

.Clef has become quickly obsessed with Jack Bright and there is no stopping him. 

.Clef would still lie to Jack, he cannot tell Jack that he is in love with him, or that he wants him. 

.So for the longest time there will be so many lies from Clef on why he does the things that he does for Jack. 

.Clef also would start to watch Jack on cameras, to see where he is when Clef cannot be with him. 

.If Clef had any rivals, they were sure not to last long. 

.Clef is also immune to Jack Bright's amulet that Jack's soul is bound to. 

.So If Clef ever wants to punish Jack, He will sneak up and remove Jack's amulet and put him on a high shelf. 

.That is right Clef puts Jack Bright into time out. 

.Clef does not the best history with love or romance, and he is not good at telling someone how he feels. 

.But when he does love someone he will put his life on the line for them. 

.During a breach if Jack is about to be hurt, Clef would snap and lose his shit, and go absolute assault machine mode, killing anything and everything in his way! 

.This would also be where he tells Bright how he feels pinning him up against the wall and kissing him. 

.He refuses to let Jack Bright Die, and he will slaughter anyone or anything that tries to harm his Jack Bright!

.It does not matter If Jack Bright accepts his love or not, Clef has Already snapped, and with the advantage of the breach he knocks Jack out and drags him to his room. 

.He would deal with the Cameras and such in a bit, until Jack learned to be a good boy, Clef was not letting him go and he was going to keep his sweet Jack nice and safe. 

.No One would ever hurt HIS Jack Bright ever again! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS finally got this one done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of My Sexy Muffins!] 

Clef’s Bright (SCP) Yandere Dr. Alto Clef X Darling Dr. Jack Bright #pride 

[angryinternetduck]

a mutual feeling

harry styles x reader. enemies (kind of) to lovers. 9.5k words. summary/warnings: boxing! boxer!harry x boxer!reader, harry's dad is your trainer, you kind of hate each other, not really, it's not even enemies to lovers they're both just brats, it's boxing so there's kind of a lot of violence and blood, there's nothing too explicit, alcohol consumption, you're a better fighter than he is and you fight and end up doing it, oops, friends w benefits type of deal, he doesn't do relationships but he likes you, oops again, and you like him, triple oops, it's quite the journey but you'll make it.

***

“You look like shit,” Harry greets you when you open the door.

“And you, my love,” you respond with a slight slur, “look handsome as always.” You lean in for a kiss, and Harry gently pushes you away, rolling his eyes as he walks into your apartment. You grimace at the contact, feeling the pain even through the fuzz of the whiskey you’re holding.

“My dad would kill you if he were here,” Harry says.

You giggle, shutting the door behind him. “Well, then, thank goodness he’s not!”

Harry glares at you from your refrigerator and makes a noncommittal grunt.

You frown, suddenly, your alcohol muddled mind working through something. “Wait a minute,” you say slowly, “he’s not here… but you are!” Harry glares even more and walks back over to you. You pout as he guides you to your couch.

Groaning through the pain, you allow him to nudge you onto your back on the couch. “What,” you manage to ask through gritted teeth, “are we gonna fuck now?” Harry sighs, softening the bag of frozen peas he’s holding with his fingers. “You wish.”

He kneels down beside the couch and lays the bag over your bruised nose and black eye. He’s biting on his lip, concentrating and wincing a little bit whenever he hits a sensitive spot and you grimace. He fiddles with the peas, trying to get the bag in exactly the right spot, and you watch his eyes. His green, green, worried eyes.

“He knows,” you murmur.

Harry’s jaw clenches, and that’s the only response you need.

You roll your head away from him, breaking eye contact and letting the bag of peas slide onto your black eye. “Fuck.” Suddenly you’re sober. Harry sighs again, going still for a moment, and then another, and then he stands up and walks away.

“What if I didn’t show up tomorrow?” you ask softly.

You hear him fumbling around in your cabinet.

After a moment, he says, “You will.”

You don’t say anything, because he’s right.

Silence falls over the room, and you’re just about to ask him what he’s doing over there when there’s a loud bang. You gasp, jolting upright, and watch Harry shake out his fist. Your cabinet door is ajar, papers and knick knacks misplaced.

“You promised him, goddammit!”

You exhale slowly, sharply, leaning back as the pain from your sudden movement sets in.

“You promised me!” Harry closes the distance between the cabinet and the couch, throwing your first aid kit onto the coffee table in front of you quite violently. “Christ, you said you’re done! No more fighting.”

You close your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He breathes a second, and you can hear he’s panting. So angry. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do,” you go on softly when he doesn’t talk for a moment. “I get antsy, and it’s late, and, well…” You turn over a little bit, grimacing, and hold up the wad of cash.

“Train!” he bursts, ignoring the money. “You said training! Fight with my dad! It’s so easy. Fight with gloves! Spar! For fuck’s sake, you said no more of this - this underground - rubbish. You can’t be out there fighting random people just to get your rocks off.”

You frown. “It’s not -”

“You’re so fucking reckless it’s insane!” he interrupts, apparently on a rant. “I cannot believe how stupid you are. After all this, you won’t go pro, won’t stop, won’t - won’t do anything but keep fucking yourself up and leaving me to clean up after!”

That strikes a nerve, and you sit up, anger brewing in your stomach. It always seems to come to this with him. “What?” you scoff incredulously. “Leave you to clean up after?” Harry scowls at you. “What else would you call this?”

“I’d call this you getting into my business!” you exclaim. “I’d call this you coming to my house in the dead of night because you’re - you’re worried about me. That has nothing to do with me, Styles, and you fucking know it. I never asked for this. I’d be just fucking fine on my own, thank you very much.”

“Yeah?” Harry spits, grabbing the half empty bottle of whiskey and shaking it at you. “Just fine, huh? Bleeding out on your couch passed out from too much to drink, that’s fine? We have very different definitions of fine then, don’t we?”

You scowl at him, vision going red with anger, and you shout, “I’ll prove it! Leave!” You jump to your feet, getting riled up, but can only start, “There’s the -” before pain shoots through your body and you fall back down, struggling for breath.

“Shit,” Harry mutters. The bottle’s dropped and he’s at your side in a second, taking bandages and disinfectant out of your first aid kit. He pulls up your shirt, cleaning a bruise on your rib cage that broke skin before pressing a soft cloth against it. “There could be a broken rib in here,” he says under his breath. “You need to go to -”

“I’m fine,” you cut in.

He looks at you, concern in his gaze, and you have to shut your eyes.

“I can’t afford it,” you whisper. “Give it a few days. I’ll be able to tell. If it’s really bad… I’ll go.” He doesn’t reply, doesn’t say anything, but you can hear the worry in the silence. “Promise?” he says.

“Yeah.”

He grabs your hand, and you frown, and he says, “Look at me.”

You meet his eyes, lifting your hand just off the couch with your pinky extended.

He links his pinky with yours.

“Pinky swear,” you say.

***

You can tell Des is pissed from the moment you walk into the gym. You can’t even see him yet and you already know. There’s something in the air. Everybody turns to stare, eyes wide, faces shameless. They have a right, though - it’s not every day somebody comes in with fresh bruises and black eyes.

“He’s in back,” the receptionist tells you as soon as you walk up to the counter.

“Great,” you mutter. “Thanks.” You shift your bag further onto your back, heading for the back room where you train. And there he is, sitting on a bench, feet up on a yoga ball and eyes trained stubbornly on his phone.

“Hey, Mr. Styles,” you say cheerily, only a hint of sarcasm slipping into your tone.

“Don’t hey, Mr. Styles me.”

You clear your throat and shut up.

“What you did last night,” he begins, standing up and crossing his arms across his chest, “was reckless, uncalled for, and dangerous. Not to mention stupid.” You grit your teeth, letting your bag slide to the floor and leaning against the doorframe. You’re in for a long one.

“These fights aren’t only dangerous but illegal,” he goes on. “You could’ve gotten yourself jailed or worse. And you know that.” He steps forward. “The worst part is you know that. We’ve been over this so, so many times. And you still go and risk your life.”

You bite your lip and look at the floor.

“I train you because you’re good,” Des tells you. “You’re a damn good fighter, you know that? And it helps you, I can see that much. A right stupid bloody temper, that’s what you have, and if I can save some poor bloke on the street from getting his arse kicked, I will. But if you won’t go pro, won’t do it safely, and won’t stop with these bloody undergrounds I can’t do it anymore!”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Damn right you’re sorry! You promised me! You swore! Said you’d never go out again! And I had to find out from my ex wife that you’re at a fight? What the hell?” You frown at this, confused suddenly, and ask, “Anne told you?”

Des scowls and turns away. “Her coworker’s daughter’s involved. I don’t bloody know. Don’t know how, why, when - but it doesn’t matter, does it?” He rounds on you, again, and you sigh quietly, exhausted from the lecture and the guilt and the pain.

He must clock it, because he softens, taking a breath and rubbing his fingers over his eyes. “Go home,” he says. “I can’t… I can’t look at you, and you can barely lift a muscle. A right mess, you are, about to fall apart just from standing so long.”

You start to complain, “But -!”

“No. Go home. Now, or else I’ll have Harry drive you.”

Frowning at the threat, and the fact that it worked, you pick up your bag and turn to go. Before you leave, though, you look at him once more. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I really am.” Des sighs. “I know,” he says.

You walk out. Stares, round two, and then you’re outside, and you take a breath of the cool air. It’s October, cold, but it feels good. Walking down the steps, you see Harry, leaned against a tree with a book.

You roll your eyes and ignore him, hoping he won’t notice you.

But he does. He calls your name, jumps up, walks over to you.

“Save it, Harry,” you say immediately. “I don’t need another lecture.”

You see him frown from the corner of your eye. “I don’t… I wasn’t gonna.”

“Save it anyway,” you mutter.

He says your name again and stops walking. You feel his hand brush against yours, like he wants to grab your hand. Against your better judgement, you stop walking too. “What?” you ask, a bit shortly.

“I just… I’m sorry,” he says.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “For what?”

Harry clears his throat. Looks at his hands. “Last night. I shouldn’t’ve said those things.”

“Oh,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says, half smiling as he looks up again. “Oh. I just - well, you’re right, that’s all. I’m just getting in your business.” You sigh, shaking your head and starting to apologize yourself, but he cuts you off. “No, no, you don’t have to - I just wanted to say that I’m…” He breathes a laugh. “I’m available. If you want to fight. When you get antsy. Even if it’s… late.”

You can’t help but smile a little bit. “Are you offering to get my rocks off for me?”

Harry barks a laugh and then says, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Fuck yes.”

He doesn’t say anything, and your eyes lock, just for a second, and then you clear your throat, looking away. “Right, well, I’ll… I’ll see you around.” He nods. “Yeah,” he says, heading back to his tree. “See ya.”

***

Antsy.

The ceiling fan spins around above you, taunting you, pushing hot air around and around. It’s October and you’re somehow hot, cramped in your apartment. It’s a few weeks later, now, around midnight. You had a session with Des this morning, and you’re still antsy. Restless. You could probably go down the street, get your brains knocked out, earn a little cash.

Or you could call Harry.

Grotesque, just the idea of it. What a surrender. You roll out of bed, shove on pants and a sweatshirt for the cold air outside, and grab your car keys. You’re sweating by the time you get to the door, then freezing cold when you step outside.

The drive isn’t too long, a few minutes. The parking lot’s empty. It’s eerie. Des keeps a key above the door under the light. You’re surprised to see a dim light on in the back, and you’re even more surprised to see Harry hunched over a book.

“You’re in a gym, Styles, and you’re reading,” you say, breaking the silence. He jumps and looks up. His eyes are tired. “You’re in a gym,” he says back, “and it’s midnight.” His voice is raspy.

“Could say the same to you.”

“I live here.”

You raise a brow. “So?”

“You don’t.”

“Right.”

He holds your gaze. He likes to do that, likes to keep eye contact and make you think he’s staring into your soul. You’re the first one to look away. You always are. It’s unnerving. His eyes are so pretty, too. If you stare too long you start to admire him.

“You’re a bit early for a session,” he says as you put down your bag.

You pull on your gloves. The velcro is deafening. “I got antsy,” you reply.

“Did I miss a call?”

“No.”

“I’m a little offended.”

You crack your neck, bounce on your toes. “We’re not friends, Styles.”

“Right, I’m very offended.”

You step away from him, towards the punching bag. “Besides,” you say, “you’re too weak” - you throw a punch, the bag swings, creaks - “to spar with me.” Harry huffs, standing up and walking closer. “Christ, you’re just bullying me now.”

“I’m good at that.”

“Not really.”

Another punch, right hook, a combo, one, two, three, he’s standing against the wall, looking very cool with his arms across his chest. “Yeah?” you ask. “Should I try harder?” One, two, you’re starting to sweat. It feels good.

“Should stop trying at all.”

Three, four - one, one, four - “Go read your novel, Styles.”

He watches you for a second, and then sits down. He opens his book.

When you leave, an hour and a half later, he’s fallen asleep.

***

Another week and you’re wired again. The fan’s off, you’re sweating, but not in a good way. Soon you’re in the car, in the parking lot, in the gym. And… the light’s on again. For a second, you wonder if he ever sleeps.

“No wonder you’re so weak,” you start this time. “You never sleep.”

He doesn’t jump this time. “And neither, apparently, do you.”

“Least it doesn’t affect my fighting.”

“Affects your head, though. Explains the stupidity.”

You sigh. “You’re a prick.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“What are you, five?”

You look up and he’s smiling, the bastard, like it’s funny. Which it is, actually, but he’s being annoying about it. When you meet his gaze, he smiles more, just for a second, and then looks down at his book. “Won’t bother you this time,” he murmurs.

“Gee,” you say wryly, “I appreciate it.”

He doesn’t reply, just shrugs, and reads.

You frown, because you’re surprised. Not because you’re upset. Not because you wanted to talk to him. Or maybe you did. The anger is good fuel. You take it out on the punching bag.

You don’t stay as long this time. He’s still awake when you leave.

“See ya,” he says as you walk out.

These late night sessions don’t hold you over like a good fight does. Every week you’re going over there, and every week he’s there, too. The light doesn’t surprise you anymore, and to your embarrassment, you’ve begun to come up with your witty greetings on the way.

The conversations don’t last as long. It’s a back and forth, and then silence. It’s comfortable, the silence, and you don’t bring music. You should. You should block him out, forget he’s there, but you can’t.

It’s true, about the anger. It’s good fuel.

You feel him staring one night. He’s so intense. You think about his eyes, how much you hate them, how expressive they are, how you can tell exactly what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking…

The chain swings, creaks, you breathe in, out, one, two, three -

Harry catches the punching bag.

You pull your punch to keep from breaking his nose. “Shit, Styles, what the hell?”

He’s grinning at you, dimpling, you want to punch him, he says, “Let’s fight.”

“I told you,” you sigh, turning away, “you’re too weak for me.”

“The last time we sparred, I was sixteen.”

“And I’m sure you haven’t improved since.”

Harry raises his brows. “You think you’re better than me?”

“Yes,” you say, “yes I do.”

“Wanna prove it?”

You look at him, let your eyes drift over his body. He’s worked out, that’s for sure, and he’s so damn tall, too. He crosses his arms over his chest and watches you smugly, like you’re checking him out and not assessing his skill level. You kind of are checking him out. The sharp angle of his jaw line probably doesn’t affect the power of his punch.

You break the moment of silence. And then you say, “Fuck yes.”

It takes a second, a second of getting on gloves and drinking water and shedding layers, and then another second of bouncing on your toes, circling each other, watching his smile, his eyes, in the dim glow of the moon in the windows.

And then he makes the first move.

He throws a punch.

“Too easy,” you say as you duck.

“Just getting warmed up.”

“Lucky for you,” you start, moving closer, telegraphing left, “I’m already warm.” You go right. Right hook, for the jaw - he blocks it, of course, and you go under, for his stomach. He doesn’t dodge that one.

“Thought you’d give me a little more than that,” he says, but he’s a little breathless so the effect doesn’t carry. You just smile, watching his shoulders. Broad shoulders. His hips move left, you duck right, it’s too easy. His punch goes too far. The momentum carries him, you hold those broad shoulders and knee into his ribcage.

He coughs, stumbling a little, and you feel a twinge of guilt. Oops.

And then it’s all movement.

He lunges forward and -

One, two - hook left, dodge it, he’s sweating, eyes focused - one, two, another left jab, an uppercut that lands. He’s spinning, bouncing, now you’re the one that’s coughing. No more guilt. He doesn’t draw blood, though, going weak on you. Of course he is.

Amused, you laugh, “Shit, Styles,” and square your shoulders, crack your neck, draw closer, hands up. His brows jump, and he looks just as amused as you are. Bounce, bounce, eye contact, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Here we go, you think, and now it’s your turn.

One-two-three-four, bang bang bang, every punch lands, not hard, go gentle, a knee to his stomach, also gentle, pull him down, elbow to his back, so gentle, don’t hurt him, look at those back muscles, he swears under his breath, arm behind his back, don’t pull, don’t hurt him, he’s on the floor, on his stomach, arm bent, your knee on the small of his back -

He breathes a laugh, craning to look at you over his shoulder. “Alright, then. Point proved.” You grin, releasing him and falling back onto your hands. “I’m not one to say I told you so…”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, turning onto his back. He puts his cheek against the mat, looking at you. He’s still smiling. You look at his dimples, his cheek, and you lean forward, off your hands. He holds your gaze, no surprise there, and you hold his.

His smile fades, and you watch his eyes flick down and back up. You’re panting, chest rising, falling - it’s so quiet. You creep forward. He swallows, you see his throat work. He’s still sweating. So are you, probably.

You lean over him, watch his eyes widen, trail your finger over his cheek. “I hope I didn’t bruise you,” you murmur. He’s breathing just as heavily as you are, and even though he looks like he’s about to faint, his voice is cocky as he asks, “Oh, is that why you’re touching me?”

Closer, closer, your necklace hangs in the space between the two of you. Even closer, and it rests on his chest. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “Are we about to fuck?” He rolls over, suddenly, doesn’t reply, pulls you with him, and he’s on top of you and he’s kissing you and it feels so good, tastes so good, you close your eyes and grin and pull him closer, closer.

Turns out the answer’s yes.

***

A rude awakening. So rude. Borderline disrespectful.

Everything hurts. You groan, rolling over.

The bell on the door chimes again, and your eyes snap open.

You bolt upright. “Fuck,” you hiss.

“Such a dirty mouth,” Harry mumbles, still half asleep.

Scrambling for clothes, you mutter, “Your dad’s here, idiot.”

“Oh,” Harry says, blinking awake. “Fuck.”

You hurry to grab clothes and get decent and run out the door without another word to Harry. It’s cold outside, and you’re only half dressed. You get your car running, pull out of the parking lot, and hope Des doesn’t see you.

When you’re home, you take a cold shower. Icy cold. Your head’s still pounding, but you manage to muddle through what happened last night. Regret seeps through you with the water, and you’re thankful for the heat in your apartment when you step out.

You have a session with Des in a few hours.

Should be fun. Awkward.

And it is, when you eventually get there. A little of both. Mostly awkward. Des doesn’t suspect anything. He must not have seen your car in the morning. You trade smirks and scowls and glares and grins with Harry throughout the morning, but not a word.

Not a single word.

***

Antsy.

Antsy, antsy, restless, wired.

And guilty.

Because you’re not antsy for a fight. You’re antsy for a chat. Or a fuck. Whatever. You’re expecting a few words to turn into a few kisses, and then a few more, and then another rude awakening. You can’t tell if you’re excited about that or already guilty.

So much guilt. Can never get away from the guilt.

You’re thinking about it the whole ride over, through empty streets and hour long red lights and mocking stop signs. It’s so quiet. You can’t get over how quiet the world is when your head is so ridiculously loud.

Through all that, you can’t come up with a single thing to start with.

You used to pull into the parking lot and come up with a nice snarky comment to start the evening out with. Just like that. You’d walk in and mull it over and decide it was perfect then tweak it just so right before saying it.

And you’d get a rush of satisfaction from his reply and his smirk and his dimples.

Not tonight. Tonight you think the whole way over and can’t think of a single thing to say. Nothing to start with, nothing to end with, nothing to tell him or yell at him or sob at him. Nothing. Zero, zilch, nada.

He’s working out when you get there. Shimmering in the moonlight with his shirt off, throwing punches at the punching bag and bouncing around and panting breaths. It comes to you, then, what to say, and you say it.

“Oh, how the turntables…”

He stops and stills the punching bag with his hand and turns to look at you. He doesn’t look particularly uncomfortable. Maybe a little unsure. Mostly smug. His eyes are the only things giving away his uncertainty.

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” he says.

“No faith in me, huh?”

He smiles. “None at all.” He takes off his gloves and stretches, flexing for you, and you let your eyes rake over him shamelessly. “Didn’t bring a book with me,” you muse, setting your bag down. “Then we’d really be, uh… swapped…”

“Shame.”

Your eyes lock. There’s a beat of silence, and you let it linger for a while. His eyes are so expressive. Green, so green. Even greener up close. “So are we gonna talk about it?” you ask after a second.

“Talk about what?”

You debate punching him. Hard. You could break his nose. Get a little blood gushing. Maybe he’d talk to you then. “It’s rude to answer a question with a question, Styles.” He leans against the wall. “Is it?”

“It’s a sign of weakness, actually.”

He raises a brow. “You think I’m the one at a disadvantage here?”

“Aren’t we both?”

“Do you regret it?”

You’re playing along now. “Do you?”

“Would you do it again?”

You hold his gaze, walk closer. “Isn’t that the same question?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. He grins.

And then he kisses you.

Dammit, you think through the euphoria, he somehow managed to win.

***

It’s not that you expected that it would happen again. It’s not like you were hoping for it to happen again, or even like you were dreading it would happen again. It was one of those hope for the best, prepare for the worst situations.

Three in the morning, and your watch buzzes against your wrist.

Groaning, you sit up and gather your clothes. You get dressed, slip out, and drive home. One icy cold shower later, you’re wishing you felt regret. You wish you were guilty, or upset, or embarrassed.

Instead, you picture those dimples and grin.

You ignore him when you go to the gym for your session with Des. You work out, get your heartrate up, push away all thoughts about Harry Styles, and leave. The ball is in his court, you decide, and you’re not one to steal. Or maybe you are. You’re just too stubborn at the moment.

It feels good to be rid of him, even if it’s just temporary. It takes a few days, a few days of you ignoring his more and more frequent glances, a few days of you leaving as soon as your session’s over, a few days of you parking around back so he can’t corner you out front where he reads.

Then he follows you. He does corner you, only at your car rather than at his tree. He’s leaned up against it when you walk out, and you sigh when you catch sight of him. A sigh of irritation. Because you’re annoyed. It’s not a sigh of relief, obviously, or a sigh of happiness.

“Waiting for me at my car?” you say, walking up to him. “I’m a little creeped out.”

Harry looks up at you, brows raised. “She speaks!”

You fiddle with your keys. “Yeah, she’s been known to, here and there.”

He bites his lip, looking at you thoughtfully. “You know, I don’t know where you live.”

“Wow, you managed to get even creepier.”

“I said I don’t know where you live,” he says, smiling a bit.

You open the door, lean against it. “I heard you.”

“I was gonna visit you. Bring flowers or summat.”

“Flowers!” you gasp. “A creep and a liar. How romantic.”

He smiles even more. “You didn’t show up for a while.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

“I was getting worried.”

You cock a brow. “Is worried a synonym for horny now, or…?”

His smile curls into a smirk. “That too.”

You nod, mocking sympathy. “Right, right, you poor soul.” You clear your throat, sliding into the driver’s seat, and close the door as you turn the key in the ignition. “Well!” you exclaim, rolling down the window so he can hear you. “I’m gonna drive away now. Nice talking to you.”

He puts his palm on the door, leans against it, muscles flexing. “My mate’s coming into town,” he says. He’s looking at you. So intense. “Yeah?” you ask. “Are you into that?” His brows jump, teasingly, but then he’s shaking his head.

“Nah, I just… He’s a good lad, you know? And he needs a place to stay.”

“Your dad lives with you, Styles, and I don’t think he’d like to hear -”

“He’s not staying with us.”

You scoff slightly. “You think he’d wanna stay in my little -”

“No,” Harry interrupts, “he’s staying in a hotel.”

Your eyes narrow, wondering if you know where he’s going with this. You stay quiet.

“And, uh…” He breaks eye contact, which makes you suspicious, and looks out towards the gym behind your car. “I wanna make sure the place he’s staying is nice.” He looks back at you, just a hint of a smirk in his eyes.

“Styles,” you begin slowly, and then he clears his throat, cutting you off again, and leans back, off your car, standing up straight. He’s looking at the gym again. “I think you need to come with me to test out this hotel he’s staying at.”

You laugh. You laugh, throwing your head back, being dramatic about it, and say, “You did not just go through all that just to get me in a hotel room with you.” Harry meets your gaze, finally, and grins. “My back’s getting sore for all the wrong reasons.”

“Christ almighty, you absolute bastard.” You put on your seat belt, shaking your head with a huge smile on your face. “Fuck you, Styles,” you say, putting your foot on the pedal, “and call me when you figure out a date.”

***

Apparently, the date is a week later.

And a week later, it feels so nice to wake up on a bed. All the satisfaction of the night before and a perfectly comfortable bed to wake up in. You’re more content than you should be, and you have to hide your smile the next morning after round - four? Five? Whatever. The first of the morning. And last, apparently.

He’s pulling on his pants, fixing himself in the mirror, and you’re staring at him and thinking. Thinking about what to say, when to say it, how to say it, whether you’re a wimp for wanting to say it. “So we’re really not gonna talk about it, huh?” you finally say.

He hums a “Hm?” and meets your gaze in the mirror.

You glare. “Gonna make me spell it out?”

“Spell what out?”

“Again with the questions,” you mutter.

“Right, well, I wasn’t trying to be smart,” Harry starts, and you can’t help cutting in, “Are you ever?” He purses his lips at you and turns around. “Tell me.” You’re almost impressed, and then he adds, “Is that better?”

You breathe a sigh, clearing your throat and turning on the dramatics again. Sitting up, you sit on your calves and clutch the blanket to your chest. With your best puppy dog eyes, you gush, “What are we, Styles?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Mortal enemies,” he says under his breath, turning around again to put on his shirt. “Yeah?” you say. “All blood and guts?” He smirks at you in the mirror. “I think I felt your guts last night when -”

You laugh and cut him off. “Oh, alright.”

A second of silence, and he goes a little more serious. “I hope you know I don’t do relationships,” he says quietly. Your brows jump. “And I thought I was the dramatic one.” He sighs, turning around to face you. “I’m not being dramatic.”

“The hell you aren’t,” you say with a grin.

He frowns. “We’re not a thing.”

“Good,” you tell him. “I’d kill you.”

“You have to tell me if you ever get into a relationship,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

“We’re done if you start dating.”

You scoff a laugh. “Um? No shit?”

“And we can’t tell my dad.”

Shaking your head, you hold up a hand. “Hold on, back track. I’ll tell you if I ever start dating, and you tell me if you ever do.” He shrugs and replies, “That’s easy. I won’t date.” You frown. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re a prick,” you say, impulsively.

“Which is why I won’t date.”

“Some people are into that.”

“Are you?”

You bounce your eyebrows. “Clearly.”

“And yet you don’t wanna date me.”

“Fuck no.”

“Point proved.”

“Fuck you.”

He grins. “Fuck me yourself.”

You laugh, incredulously, and flop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Alright. It’s off if either of us get into a relationship -” You hold up a finger when he starts to talk and push on, “And your dad can’t know.”

“I’m not paying for this hotel every time you get horny.”

You sit up and scoff, “Every time I get -”

“Every time we want to spend quality time together,” he amends, a sweet smile on his face. You grin and lay back again. “My apartment’s small,” you say. “But there’s a bed.” Harry hums, sitting on the bed, and you turn your head to watch him pull on his shoes.

“Anywhere that’s not the gym floor is fine with me.”

“Ooh, you’ll get to see where I live,” you say. “Should I be scared?”

“For your bed, maybe.”

You snicker and mutter, “You’re gross.”

“So are you.”

“A match made in heaven.”

Harry makes a noise of disagreement. “Hell.”

You smile, reaching over to fiddle with his shirt. “Purgatory.”

“You’re awful.”

“And you’re gross,” you reply with a shrug.

You can see him biting back a smile as he stands up. “Right. And - nobody can know.”

“Yeah, yeah, we won’t tell your dad.”

“No, I mean - other people, too.”

You raise a brow. “Who cares?”

He frowns, turning away to grab his coat. “They might get the wrong idea.”

You breathe a laugh and sit up, stretching a bit. “Yeah? And what’s the right idea?”

“Anything but whatever the hell’s happening here.”

“Wow, I’m offended.”

“Should be. Fuck you.”

Childishly, you stick your tongue out at him. “Fuck me yours-”

“And now we’re just going in circles,” Harry interrupts. He grabs his coat, and you realize he’s fully dressed, and you’re a bit startled. “Don’t be late for the gym,” he tells you. “My dad’ll get suspicious.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, well, heaven forbid your dad -”

“Just don’t be late.”

“Interrupt me one more time, Styles, I -”

He smirks, opens the door, and leaves.

You groan and fall back onto the bed again, then sigh happily.

This situation with Harry, you think, is absolutely terrible.

***

He is so cute.

Just the most adorable.

All smiles and big green eyes and soft curls you want to run your hands through.

“I think I love you,” you murmur drunkenly, and he laughs.

He’s got a nice laugh. Sounds like music. “Think I feel the same.”

You lean into him, pressing kisses against the column of his throat. “I really think I love you, Harry,” you whisper, and he clears his throat, going a bit stiff. “Jack,” he says. “It’s Jack.”

“Oh,” you giggle. You look up at him. “Your eyes are green,” you tell him.

He smiles again, and he doesn’t have dimples. “That they are,” he says.

You’re at some bar. Two weeks after the hotel meet up. Harry’s been to your apartment about a million times, but luckily, the bed’s still in one piece. Here, there’s music going, and you have a few drinks on the table in front of you.

A few guys bought you drinks. Jack did. He was nice about it, though. He’s such a gentleman. He offered to buy you food, brought you to a table and talked with you while you ate. He pulled the chair out for you.

He nudges at your cheek, pressing his lips to your skin. It’s all wrong. But he’s a gentleman, and boy, are his eyes green. You sway a little to the music playing. He kisses you more. It feels nice.

You turn so your back is to his chest, and he stops with the kissing. He holds your waist, not too low, so respectful. What a gentleman. With those green, green eyes. “I wanna make you feel good,” he whispers in your ear.

“Yeah?” you say, giggling a little.

He kisses your throat, so lightly, so nicely. “I wanna take you home.”

You pout at that and turn around, wiggling your hand at him. “Oh, Jack,” you say, “I’m married!” He frowns, pulling away a little bit. “What?” You show him the ring on your finger, only half processing that it’s on your middle finger and you’re essentially flipping him off.

Your gaze focuses. “Oh,” you say, outloud, lowering your hand and inspecting the ring. It’s Harry’s, you realize. He left it in your room last week, and you wore it so you wouldn’t forget to give it to him the next time you saw him. But you forgot.

“I forgot,” you murmur.

“You forgot you’re married?” Jack scoffs incredulously.

“No!” you exclaim, looking up. “No, no, I’m not - I’m not married. Not at all.”

He relaxes, but he still looks skeptical.

“I just - it’s complicated.”

“I didn’t know,” he says, backing away. “I don’t want to get in the middle of anything.”

“You wouldn’t be,” you say softly.

He laughs awkwardly. “Um… Yeah, well, it seems like I would be.”

You’re not sure what to say, and eventually settle on a weak, “I’m sorry.”

“Right.” He clears his throat. “Me too. Well, it was nice… it was nice meeting you.”

You look up, shaking your head. “Wait, you don’t have to…”

“I think I should,” he says. “Yeah, so - bye, I guess.”

“Bye,” you say softly. “Bye, bye…”

***

What a headache. So much pain.

You groan, rolling over onto your stomach, and look at the clock.

“Shit.”

You’re late. You’re so, so late. Des will be pissed. You haven’t been late for a session in almost two years. You scramble out of bed, downing a painkiller and stumbling around your apartment until you’re changed and about ready to go.

The medicine kicks in on the way, and you’re almost sentient by the time you get to the gym. Harry gives you a weird look on the way, and a bit of a memory flashes through your head. Vaguely, you worry about having confessed your love to him.

You have a session though, and you already have enough on your plate dealing with an angry Des, so you force it out of your head. Des is upset. He gets over it. You throw punches and get your feelings out and set a ring on your finger to the side. You’re not sure how it got there, but it looks like Harry’s. Shit, you think, maybe there really was a declaration of love.

He’s reading against his tree, and you ambush him on the way out. “What did I say last night?” you ask, a bit breathlessly. He looks surprised and replies, “What do you mean?” You sit down next to him, getting your breath back.

“Be honest,” you say.

A smile tugs the corner of his lips. “Aren’t I always?”

“Never. But I didn’t - you’re not -” You huff. “Are we okay?”

The smile drops, and so does your heart. He looks down. Oh, no, you think miserably. You really did. You said you loved him, drunkenly, and ruined your entire relationship. Friendship. Situationship. You’re getting another headache just thinking about it.

“Well, actually… I was thinking… maybe we should take a break,” Harry says quietly.

Your heart drops even further, and you blurt, “I didn’t mean it.”

His brows furrow. He looks up again. “What?”

“I don’t love you.”

Harry blinks, dramatically, and actually laughs. “What?” he repeats.

“What I said last night. I didn’t mean it. I was drunk.”

His brows go down again. “I didn’t… I didn’t see you last night.”

You hold up the ring. “Are you sure?”

He grabs it from you, smiling a bit. “Yeah. Positive. I’ve been looking for this for about three days.” You bite your lip. “Oh,” you say. He looks at you, confused yet again. “If not me,” he says slowly, “who were you with?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “I don’t remember.”

“You slept with somebody?”

“No. I woke up alone. Just a - an awful headache.”

He clears his throat, looking away. “Right, right. Well, you can. Obviously. I don’t - I don’t care. At all. But I was thinking…” He looks down at the ring, at his lap, frowning. “I think we should lay off it a bit.”

“Asking for some space?” you ask, and you’re half joking, but your voice is a little weak.

He looks up. Softly, he says, “Yeah.”

“Wow,” you laugh. “You’re breaking up with me and we’re not even together.”

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he says quickly. Too quickly. His face tinges red, just a bit, and his gaze falls to the ring. “I think… I think we should have another rule. We can only see each other once a week.”

You whistle lowly. “Wow,” you say again.

“Stop with the wows,” Harry mutters. “I get it. You’re impressed.”

“It’s hard not to be.”

“Right, yeah. I’m very impressive.” He’s still looking down. There’s a beat of silence.

“Alright!” you say after a minute. “Alright, well, I’ll see you around, then. I’ll get a calendar.” You stand up, dusting nonexistent grass from your legs. “I’ll doodle your name around each week. What do you say, Fridays? Wednesdays? When’re we doing this, huh?”

“I don’t know. Whenever.”

“Geez, try not to sound so excited.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Alright!” you repeat. “Goodbye.”

You stand there for half a second, expecting something, anything, and then walk off.

***

He’s not at the gym.

Midnight, a little after, and he’s not at the gym. The lights are off. Ridiculously, you’re not really sure what to do. You give a few half hearted punches, and then leave, feeling like an absolute idiot.

He ignores you the next day during your session at the gym. He works out, parading his toned muscles around the gym and grinning at the instructor to flaunt his dimples. Then he walks out, so he’s gone by the time you’re done with Des.

A week, and he hasn’t said a word. The worst part is that you don’t even know what you did wrong. He’s just scared, you tell yourself. He’d been spending almost every night at your apartment. He’ll come crawling back. He’ll kiss you and tell you he loves you and then you’ll date and everything will be happily ever after.

It’s all lies, of course, because you don’t even know if you’d want a relationship, if you’re ready for that, if you could stand that with him, if you love him - but it’s kind of nice to fantasize about.

You go to a fight one night. You watch. You watch the money, the fighting, watch the happy, painful, bliss on the winners’ faces and hide in the crowd. People recognize you, ask when you’re going, and you say… You say you’re not.

You can’t.

Maybe tomorrow, you say.

But you don’t come the next day. You stare at your ceiling, hot, and watch the fan. Around and around it goes, and you don’t move. You think. You think, and sweat, and eventually get up and take a cold shower.

The next morning, Des isn’t in the back room. You ask the receptionist where he is, and she shrugs. Tells you she has no idea - call him. So you do. You call, and he sounds upset, and he says to come upstairs.

You’ve never been upstairs.

You know where the steps are, though, and you walk up and into the hallway and see Des leaned against a door. “What’s going on?” you ask immediately. “Are you okay?” Des nods, sighing heavily. “I’m fine, but Harry’s - he’s got into a fight.”

You almost laugh. “A fight?”

“Yeah, he…” He sighs again. “A client came in here earlier, hours ago. He was going on about some fight he’d gone to last night, talking about what happened, about… well, about you.” Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Said you wouldn’t fight,” Des goes on quietly. “Started going on about how you can’t… He said you can’t -” He shakes his head. “This is him, mind you, he said not only can you not fight, but you’re a wimp about it, too.”

You can only gape.

“I was gonna kick him out, I was, but Harry… Er - well, they started shoving each other, bloody idiots, and then there were punches and we pulled them apart but they still… Well, he’s got a bit of a shiner.”

“But he’s okay?”

“He’s fine. Mostly.” He eyes you up, looking curious. “Haven’t broken his heart yet, have you?” This time you do laugh. “Sorry?” you ask, and Des smiles a bit. “Boy’s been looney about you for ages, you know. Since the second you stepped in here.”

“I…” You’re not sure what to say. “Um… Why… why are you telling me this now?” you ask, and Des grins. “Wanted to see how guilty you’d be.” You frown, confused, and echo, “Guilty?” Des nods, looking almost smug. “Most people are guilty when their lie’s found out. They’re even guiltier when they realize the old man they’ve been lying to has known since the start.”

“We’re not… lying to you…” It sounds even lamer out loud than in your head.

Des hums. “Course you’re not.” He pats you on the back and clears his throat, turning away. “I’m going out, now. It’ll be for a while. Don’t hurt him anymore, thanks.” He disappears down the steps, and you squeeze your eyes shut. Guilty, yes, and embarrassed.

Whoops.

You open the door and see Harry on the bed, an ice pack on his face.

“You look like shit,” you say.

“So do you,” he replies without looking at you. “At least I have an excuse.”

“Ooh, wasn’t expecting that one,” you tell him, walking closer. “None of the ‘you should see the other guy,’ huh?” He turns to glare at you, and you grimace at the black and blue around his eye. “Ouch,” you murmur.

“Yeah.”

“I’m supposed to be the one getting beat up,” you say softly, and you’re pushing a curl out of his face before you can stop yourself. “You’re too pretty to get your face smashed in.” Harry rolls his eyes and turns away again.

You lean down, impulsively - you’re not thinking today, apparently - and start to kiss his hand, resting on his stomach. He winces, pulling away, and you see his knuckles are bruised. “That hurts,” he says.

“Sorry, sorry,” you say, and go for his cheek -

He hisses your name and bites out, “That hurts too.”

“Well, Christ, Styles,” you scoff, “where doesn’t it hurt?”

He glances at you, a flicker in those green eyes, and points to his temple. “There’s not too bad,” he mumbles. You have to bite back a grin. “Alright,” you say, and you press your lips to his skin. His eyes flutter shut.

“And… and here’s not awful.” He points to his jaw almost grudgingly, and a bit of a laugh slips out of your lips as you pepper a kiss across his jaw, over his chin, and then pull away. He opens his eyes at the loss of contact, pouting a bit.

“How ‘bout here,” he whispers, and he points to his lips.

“You’re a bastard,” you whisper back, and then you kiss him.

Suddenly he’s better, because he’s smiling and reaching up behind your neck to gently pull you closer. Then he’s sitting up, onto his elbow, his hand nudging you as if he wants you to get on top of him.

“Thought everything hurt,” you murmur, complying anyway.

Harry shrugs, smiling more, and says,“The medicine just set in.”

“I hate you,” you tell him.

He sighs, sounding happy, and kisses you deeper. “The feeling,” he says, “is mutual.”

***

His name is Charlie. The bartender. It says it right on his little gold name tag, which blinds you every few seconds when the light hits it just right. He’s pretty nice. You’re getting drinks for yourself and for Harry, who’s supposed to meet you in a few minutes. He’ll probably be late.

“Come here often?” Charlie asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You raise a brow. “Yeah. Yet somehow I’m still surprised at how unoriginal you are.”

Charlie laughs, sliding your drink across the counter and getting started on Harry’s. “Oh, no, no, I just meant… I feel like I’ve seen you around.” You give a neutral hum in reply, swirling the ice in your drink around.

And then you hear your name called from behind you, and you feel yourself smile as you turn around and see Harry walking in, waving at you. He’s not late. How nice. “Hey, you’re with Harry?” Charlie asks, sounding surprised, and your smile drops to a frown as you remember he’s still there.

“Yup.”

“Wow,” Charlie says under his breath, his back to you as he mixes Harry’s drink, “he sure goes through dates fast…” Your brows jump. “Excuse me?” Charlie turns around. He looks stunned. Slowly, he hands the drink to you. “Um… Nothing. Sorry.”

“Did you see him here with someone else?” you ask, regretting it immediately.

“Yeah, just last week,” Charlie replies. He makes a face. “They were all over each other.” And from the next expression that floods his features, he, too, regrets his words immediately after they leave his lips. “But, uh - that’s not my business!” he says hurriedly. “That has nothing to do with me. Okay! Well, enjoy your drinks.”

He walks away just as Harry comes up behind you.

“Well, hello,” he says softly, lips feathering against your ear.

“Hey,” you say, handing him his drink.

Your tone is a bit sharp, and Harry pulls away a bit. “Thanks,” he says. “Er… you alright?”

“I’m fine. So is, uh, Charlie here.” You point at Charlie’s receding figure.

“Yeah?” Harry says, an amused smile curving his mouth as he takes a sip of his drink.

You clear your throat, fiddling with your glass. “We were just talking about you.”

His smirk is so handsome. And irritating. Right on the line between the choices of kiss him and smack him. “Oh?” he says. “All good things, I hope?” You shrug, letting your gaze drift around the room. “Not necessarily. He, uh… he said you came here last week with someone else.”

The smirk disappears. He looks down, coughs slightly. “Said that, did he?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, patting him on the chest. “Yeah, yeah he did say that. And now, I’m saying that, uh… that you’re drinking alone. I’ll see you around, Styles.” You walk away, just the slightest bit of anger seeping through your skin.

***

Antsy. Antsy, antsy, antsy.

The fan is spinning.

That damn fan.

You can’t look at it anymore. You roll out of bed, put on some clothes. No sweatshirt, no pants, just shorts and an athletic top. It is freezing fucking cold outside, you realize with a grimace, which isn’t new information but somehow still surprises you.

Soon you’re running, slowly, jogging, and already you feel better.

Really, you shouldn’t be upset. That’s what keeps spinning around your head. You shouldn’t be upset. You should’ve expected this. You did expect this. Obviously he was sleeping with other people. He’d been honest about it from the start.

Regret, anger, misery. Turn it into money. A little cash, a little pain, a little gain. You’re filled with regret as soon as you step inside. People notice you and look startled, and then expectant. They seem to close in on you.

You’ll fight tonight, right? Give it a good show? There’s a new kid in town, better show ‘em who’s boss - don’t lose your throne, rookie - c’mon, prove Des doesn’t train losers - does he? Does he? Are you? A loser? Gone soft, have you? Are you ready? Ready to go?

And brrrring, you’re off.

It feels so good. You’re so numb it doesn’t even hurt. It’ll probably hurt later, though, and you’ll probably regret it, but not now. Now you’re just happy, grinning through the blood, probably looking psychotic.

It’s unmatched, this adrenaline rush. Can’t get it anywhere else.

Well, maybe -

Bang. Right to the nose. Damn, that hurts, but losing hurts more - one, two, three, around the back, pull, pull, make it hurt, like they hurt you, like he hurt you, fuck it hurts so bad, and…

And we have a winner!

Outside, it is so, so cold.

***

Cleaning yourself up is therapeutic.

It doesn’t happen until the next morning, but it’s pleasant.

You miss your session with Des.

***

You spend a lot of time at the park. At the library. Anywhere but your apartment, where he can find you. You ignore his calls. You change his ringtone so you can bop along to the song while you let it ring out.

When you go to the gym at one in the morning, about a week later, you actually look a little worse than you first did. Less bloody, less fresh, less swelling but more black and blue around your eye and cheek.

Harry bolts up when he sees you. He starts to step forward, then hesitates. He hovers by the alcove where he reads, glowing like an angel from the light behind him. He looks so nervous.

“You look awful,” he says softly.

You clear your throat. “Thanks.”

“I was worried. We were both worried.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Harry sets his book down. The nervousness fades away, and he leans against the wall next to him, leveling your gaze as he crosses his arms across his chest.

“You fought again,” he says.

“I did.”

“Because of me?”

You look at him, sensing a shift in the air. “What am I supposed to say?”

“The truth.”

“You’ve got quite the head if you expect me to say yes.”

“And you’ve got quite the nerve if you expect me to believe no.”

“You just think the sun revolves around you, don’t you, Styles?” you ask with a scowl.

“Who’s to say it doesn’t?”

“Christ,” you mutter. You huff a sigh, breaking eye contact and turning away.

He lets the quiet loom for a moment, probably basking in it, and then says, “You’re upset about the bar, aren’t you.” He doesn’t even phrase it like a question. “I’m not upset,” you reply under your breath. “I’m not even surprised.”

“Good.”

“Yeah?” you say tersely, meeting his eyes again. “You’re pleased by that?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. You know why?” Finally, a bit of venom creeps into his words. Part of you is relieved to hear some sort of feeling in what he’s saying. “Because I’m allowed to do that, to go on a date. This isn’t a relationship. I can fuck other people, you can fuck whoever the hell you want.”

“Have you?”

Harry frowns some more. “I just told you I did.”

“Before that.”

He opens his mouth - and then closes it. “Have you?”

You can’t help but smirk a little bit. “No.”

“Well, you could’ve. You can. It’s not a rule.”

“Maybe it should be.”

Your words hang in the air for a second, and you can see Harry turning them over in his head. His eyes bounce between yours, mouth set in a hard line. “We’re not dating,” he says lowly. “I hope you get that. We’re not together.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I don’t date.”

“Except for the one last week.”

His jaw clenches, and he turns away from you. “That doesn’t count.”

“How come?”

“Because -” He huffs a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Christ. I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer, Styles.”

“I don’t know,” he repeats irritatedly.

“Er,” you say, imitating a buzzer. “Still wrong.”

“Fine,” he practically growls, turning on you. “Because I was only getting over you.”

You smile coolly, ignoring your racing heartbeat. “Ding, ding, ding.”

Harry shakes his head, turning away again. “I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes,” he sighs, “I do.”

You raise a brow. “And, uh, Harry,” you say, “why’s that?”

He glances at you. A million different emotions flash across his face, echoing in his eyes, in your heart. And then, suddenly, his features soften. “You know why,” he murmurs, and your brows jump.

You blink at him, startled. “What?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, biting his lip as he takes a small step towards you. “You know why.”

You shake your head, backing up slightly. “I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon,” he murmurs, closing the distance. “Gonna make me say it? Gonna make me spell it out?” You watch him, hold his gaze, look into his eyes, and your breath catches in your throat as you start to understand.

“Yeah,” you tell him a bit breathlessly. “Yeah, I’m gonna make you spell it out.”

“I,” he starts, and now you’re taking a half step towards him, “l… i… k… e… y… o… u…”

You can’t help the smile that breaks across your face. “You’re a good speller.”

“A lot,” he adds.

“And now, uh… Now put it all together for me,” you say, milking it.

“I like you,” he whispers, so close now. “I like you a lot.”

“I like you, too,” you admit.

He traces his finger against your cheek, so, so gently. Your eyes close at the contact.

“You’ll break my heart,” he says, leaning in.

“Not if -” You’re having trouble speaking. “Not if you don’t let me.”

He’s speaking almost against your lips now. “As if I’ll have any say in the matter.”

You open your eyes, smiling just barely. “I’ll be nice.”

“You could never.”

His eyes are so, so green. “You’d be surprised.”

His finger slides under your chin and he gently presses up. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Your eyelids flutter shut. “I’m anything but predictable,” you whisper.

He doesn’t reply, just kisses you, and you smile against his lips.

Maybe things will work out after all.

***

la fin 💜

i wrote this FAST haha like in a day or two but lemme tell you i've never felt this way about anything else i've written... like obvi i don't post things i hate slkdfj but like i LOVE this fic. not to sound narcissistic lmao but i'm so in love w this fic it's insane. that being said some feedback would literally make my entire day!!! week!!! life!!!!

anyway thank you for reading ily <3

masterlist | ask

[saphirered]

Hopefully, this is not too vague... I was wondering if you could do fluff with Molly; his nickname for the reader is 'princess'. (I have had a rough couple weeks, found out some bad news regarding my dad's health, and am just wanting a little pick-me-up. You are literally my favorite writer of the lavender tiefling trio.)

A load of fluff with some hinted spice coming right up. Sorry about your dad, sweetie and hope things take a more positive turn. Either way, I hope this is the pick-me-up you're looking for. 😘

-

You’re no stranger to waking up alone but never does it stop you from reaching out to the spot next to you. When you’re not met with a soft groan or arms wrapping around you, pulling you close begging for another five minutes of peace you know your lavender tiefling has begun his day before you. Rolling over onto your back you stretch taking in a deep breath. Time to get ready for the day, maybe find some breakfast? Breakfast sounds nice.

Mollymauk walks down the beaten path, a skip in his step and a small bouquet of wild roses clasped in his hand. He’s been up and about for a good hour now and like the good carney he is he’s working on quite the show in his mind; a show that requires the aid of a pretty face, charming smile and honeyed words he alone cannot provide. No he needs assistance and if he plans on getting this assistance he better work for it. Okay, maybe it’s not his plan. Maybe this is all just the result of a major fuck up on his end but still, it will make for some good fun… if all goes well… and you agree… The fact he gets to pamper you is a huge bonus. It’s been a while since he’s gotten the chance to show you just how much you mean to him.

Could Molly just ask for your help? Of course he could. And would you agree to join him on this endeavour? How could you refuse that devilishly handsome man? But where’s the fun in that. Let’s keep things interesting. Raise the stakes a little bit and see where his charm will get him. Or perhaps more, see how long it takes you to catch on tp the mess he made and pray to the Moonweaver you’ll be merciful. A test of his charm perhaps? Whatever excuse best justifies his actions and desires to spoil you rotten.

Stretching your arms with one final yawn you leave your tent. It’s too early to be up but you best keep an eye on your tiefling before he gets himself thrown into jail and you have to break him out… again. Wandering the camp the other members of the Fletching and Moondrop Carnival of Curiosities are waking up and going about their morning business at their own paces. You search for Molly but when you don’t find him you take to the road, following it towards the town. If he’s caused any trouble there you’d find out soon enough.

A lovely melody reaches Molly’s ears. He knows exactly who it belongs to and hears you before he sees you. All he needs to do is follow your song. Curving over the elevation of the path he spots you, lost in thought. Smile on his face he approaches you, flowers behind his back, and joins in whistling along to the melody. The way your eyes light up at the realisation of his presence are enough to make his heart melt knowing that one creature could look upon him with such unconditional love.

“Good morning, your royal highness.” Mollymauk takes a bow befitting of greeting royalty if not a little exaggerated and offers you the flowers. While he tries to keep his gaze on the ground you catch him peaking for your response as you take the flowers from his grasp breathing in their scent.

“Good morning to you too. And thank you, I should say? What’s the occasion?” You ask, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth but you can’t help feel a little suspicious at Molly’s very deliberate theatrics.

“Can a most loyal servant not present his beloved princess with flowers?” Molly rises and you get the slightest flash of fang from the smile he offers you.

“You know I am never one to deny your gifts and gestures of affection. What I’m referring to are your apparent needs for theatrics.” You speak with eloquence feeling yourself slipping into the same act he’s putting on. Dammit Mollymauk, for playing into your actor side and letting you slip up into the role he’s setting you up for. You know damn well he’s aware of what he’s doing.

“I am merely your humble servant. A humble servant with impeccable manners.” You snort as Molly offers you his arm. You lace yours through his and he begins leading you back the way you came.

“Impeccable manners you say? Because I recall not but two nights ago copious amounts of drinks, illegal gambling and theft were involved. And let’s not even mention the… desecration of the fountain within the gaze of the Platinum Dragon’s statue.”

“You say that as if those of noble birth do not partake in such activities, princess.” Molly counters. Touché. As you’re about to take a step to the right fork of the road Molly gently pulls you into the left direction instead. Confused you give him another suspicious look but he hushes you leading you down the path.

You find yourself retreating within your thoughts trying to pinpoint whatever shenanigans Molly is up to, planning or has been up to and why the need to be secretive instead of just telling you. Molly couldn’t hope for a better moment for you to stop your interrogation for he fears any more prodding around for answers and he will spill the beans and come clean. He can’t hide a single thing from you when you’re determined and he knows it.

The path slowly turns from trodden earth to more fine sand until it fades into the beach. The sound of waves and a seagull or two make for a pleasant setting. You see just far enough away from the shoreline as to not become victim to the tides, is a basket set on top of a blanket. Molly leads you over, guides you to sit upon the blanket gracefully before plopping down himself with much less show. Within the basket you spot several packed goods. Molly takes a few out and sets them down upon the blanket, unwrapping them as he goes. Some bread, a selection of fine jams, some cheese and delicious sugary sweet pastries.

“Okay, time to drop the act. While I appreciate all this, what did you do and how bad is it?” Molly takes out a bottle of what looks like expensive champagne along with two glasses and pours them, handing one to you.

“What makes you say that?” Molly takes a sip playing it cool and innocent.

“The top shelf bottle of champagne that is very much above our collective pay grades. Where did you even get this?” You take a sip. It’s not bad but not the greatest you’ve ever had either. A weird taste that can only be suitable for some upscale party or the nobility passes out to their guests to impress them simply because of the associated name and or price tag. What can you say? Rich people.

Molly hesitates but drops the innocent act. Best he comes clean now. You’ve caught on fully. Game over. But that definitely doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this delicious breakfast with him, can you? Mollymauk takes a slice of the fresh bread, adding a nice layer of strawberry jam and takes a bite. At least the expensive jam was worth the money. Then again, it wasn’t his money that paid for it. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t money well spent.

“Now, I need you to promise me one thing first, love. Promise me you’ll let me tell you the whole thing before you judge my poor decision making.”

“I can do that.” You lean back and relax taking one of the pastries and taking a bite. Bearclaws with cinnamon? Delicious. Let’s hope for Molly’s sake it will keep your judgement somewhat at bay.

“When we were doing our usual rounds and you were off on your own I may or may not have let it slip to someone who happens to be part of the local nobility, several someones to be more precise, that you may or may not be a princess in hiding. And I may or may not have played a little bit too deeply into the story…”

“Okay, that’s not actually that bad?” Just wait for the second part. It gets worse. On second thought. He may be regretting telling you and not just convincing you to hide away for the next few days in town until you’re back on the road.

“And these poor suckers may have fact checked it finding some evidence of a princess from another continent who supposedly is traveling in disguise. They came to see the show and I want you to remember they left a most generous donation along with an invitation for you to attend a ball held in your honour.” Molly awaits your response as you stop mid bite.

“So they left an invitation for a princess? What about it? Just don’t show up and done.”

“That would work if the local lord did not gently hinted at exposing said princess and sending the guards to return them to their family as they ran away and the good favour of either side of that royal family should greatly benefit this town. I’m sorry, princess but your presence has been demanded.”

Okay… This is bad. You do not feel like being hunted by the guards and it’s not like you can make an inconspicuous escape now people might look at you as royalty. You set down the pastry clasp your hands together closing your eyes. You inhale and exhale deeply as Molly briefly fears for his life.

“You… really need to learn to hold that tongue of yours, Molly. It’s getting you in all sorts of trouble.” He bites back a comment about using that tongue of his for plenty of other good things. He’s having trouble reading where you stand on this all and doesn’t know wether you’re upset with him or disappointed or if he has to be the one running for his life soon.

“Let’s talk to Orna and get some appropriate dress for the occasion ready and wearable even if that means she’ll have to sew us into our garments.” You sigh.

“Us?” He questions and he does not like the mischievous look on your face. Whatever you’re plotting, he hopes you have mercy on his soul.

“Oh, I will not be attending on my own. No, a princess does not go anywhere without their loyal servant. A princess needs their escort to attend to their every whim.” You hold your chin high as you move to sitting on your knees pushing your palm flush against his chest exercising a little pressure to push him to lean back onto his elbows.

“Every whim you say?” Molly asks with a devilish grin as you swing one leg over him gently keeping him in place with your body and wrapping your arms around his neck playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck. Maybe the turnout isn’t so bad.

“‘Every whim you say, princess’.” You correct mimicking his grin and leaning in closer. Molly goes to close the distance but you raise your index finger to his chin. “Ah-ah.”

“May I not kiss you now, ‘princess’?” He mocks and you give him a stern look.

“It’s unbecoming of a mere servant to make such a bold move.” You pull on his hair when Molly tries to land a kiss on your cheek rather enjoying the turn of events this morning.

“Yet you appear to be the one in full control.”

“He knows his place. Good boy.” You praise with a pat to his cheek and you guide his face to yours, your lips meeting in a deep kiss, the food forgotten. Molly’s hands dance over from your hips to your lower back pulling you closer to him. You earn an unsatisfied grumble when you pull away a moment too soon.

“Must you torture me so with your touch, princess?” Molly laughs fully aware what direction this is going, raising a hand to caress your cheek fondly.

“Will you finally learn how to behave?” You trace the peacock feathers curving up the side of his neck and jaw. You don’t get a verbal reply but instead Molly’s lips find their way to your neck leaving a trail of kisses and little bites as he goes enough to make you giggle and squeal in surprise whenever he finds just the right spot, taking your mind far away from the details of the fuck up that lead you here in the first place. Not that you mind anymore. If this is the treatment you get for being dragged into one of Mollymauk’s lies gone south you’ll gladly take it a thousand times over.

[shiftynightshade]

“He’s so young. Too young to be in a suit like that.”

Tony glanced at Steve and Natasha’s expressions, faces scrunched up in some mixture of discomfort and anger. It was understandable, really. The kid was on the younger side, though they could not tell much considering under his helmet was a yellow domino mask.

The kid was shifting in his seat, hands cuffed to the metal table in front of him and super-power inhibitor collar clasped around his neck. They had gathered on the other side of the glass, uneasily staring at the child who happened to be decked out in a very high-tech suit. Nat uncrossed her arms to run one hand through her hair. “Why is a kid with superpowers and a suit that advanced doing trapezing around New York?”

Steve shrugged helplessly, eyeing the teen through the glass as if it held all the answers. It kinda did, in a way.

“Fury’s on his way.”

Clint shuffled to stand between Tony and Nat, face drawn with the same discomfort whenever he dealt with kids in bad situations. Steve gave a small huff, setting his shield down and striding through the door into the interrogation room. The kid looked up when Steve entered the room, eyeing him as if he was an unknown variant on a battlefield; an enemy.

Steve settled in the metal chair opposite the kid, leaning forward in his seat to stare directly into his masked eyes. “Hey son, can I get you anything? Water perhaps?” He didn’t respond, opting to stare Steve down. After a small bout of tense silence, he shook his head. “No thanks.”

God this kid was young.

His voice was smoother than expected, but still held the hint of youth to it that Tony often heard from Peter. Tony couldn’t see Steve’s face, but based on Nat’s pinched expression, his was probably similar.

“So, what were you doing running around New York like that?”

The kid smirked. “Like what? Sir.”

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, clearly caught off guard. “You know,” He waved a hand helplessly in the air. “In armour that very few places make, and I highly doubt someone of your age could afford such equipment.”

The kid mere shrugged with that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “But here we are.” He said carelessly. “Cuffed to a table in the Avengers Tower for no discernible reason, one might say that this was a biased arrest.”

Steve spluttered, leaning back in his seat as if the Hulk had slapped him. “I beg your pardon!?”

“Well, I wasn’t disturbing the peace, I wasn’t attacking anyone. So I don’t see the reason for my detainment.”

“We had determined you as a possible threat because of your super powers and the fact that you were participating in vigilante acts, which is illegal son.”

Tony had expected the kids smirk to slip, for him to collapse into a mess of tears and discomfort, which was definitely overdue. The kid hadn’t even looked at them like they had saved the world, no hero worship, no stumbling in his words. It was like he didn’t care that they were heroes!

The kid hummed. “Well you are right about me being a vigilante.”

Steve leaned forward again. “Son, vigilantism and trying to be a hero is extremely dangerous. This is no world for someone as young and inexperienced as you.” He said gently.

The kid snorted. “Look here Mr. Rogers. I don’t think you lot know this, but I know what I’m doing, believe it or not. Frankly, I’ve been doing this whole business longer than you Avengers have been together as a single team.”

Steve stared for a moment before sighing in defeat. He turned slightly in his seat to look at them with a pleading expression. Tony looked at Bruce and the two SHIELD agents before shrugging and walking over to the door, his suit whirring with every movement. He opened the door and stepped into the bright room, eyes immediately locking onto the kids suit; it was such high quality that Tony wanted to steal it and pick it apart until he knew about ever Knut and bolt within the metal.

Tony put on his suavest voice and sauntered over to stand next to Steve.

“Hey kid, this is what’s gonna happen. You are gonna give us your name, age and we will let you go. How about that?”

Tony expected that that would make the kid cave. Whenever he used that voice, he got whatever he wanted. It would obviously work on a wannabe Avenger. Right?

The kid tilted his head to the side for a moment. “Mmm, you can call me Signal.” He settled on, leaning back in his chair ever so slightly. Tony huffed. This was getting old. “One, you didn’t give us your age and two, I really doubt that your real name is Signal.”

‘Signal’ smiled serenely, smugness rolling off him in waves with an air of superiority that pissed Tony off. “Sorry, no names in the field and I’m turning seventeen in a few months.”

Tony blinked. This kid was sixteen. What the fuck.

Steve threw his hands up. “That’s beside the point! You’re not an adult, so you shouldn’t be running around playing hero!”

Signal scowled, his easy-going expression melting into something colder, more dangerous. “Oh? And what is the definition of hero, Mr Rogers? Someone who does everything they can to protect those who cannot protect themselves? Or someone who only saves the world and doesn’t bother with the daily crime that litters the streets?”

He leaned forward in his seat. “Tell me then, what is your definition of hero? Because last time I checked, which was this morning mind you, the Avengers are very diverse when it comes to their backgrounds.” He tilted his head briefly at Tony. “A former weapons manufacturer who now works to better the earth.”

“Maybe a hero is someone like Natasha Romanoff, a redeemed Black Widow from the Red Room, who joined SHIELD after encountering Clint Barton who was sent to kill her for being a Russian spy, only to instead become friends with her. Is that it? Two assassin’s, one from the Red room and one from the circus?”

Signals voice and gaze didn’t waver once.

Tony and Bruce shared a glance before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him firmly. The lock buzzed. Natasha looked pale, her face was blank and she had rested her weight against the wall with Clint beside her. Tony opened his mouth, only for Banner to open the door and motion them out into the hall. “Fury’s here.”

Tony groaned but followed the doctor anyways. Director Pirate himself was exiting the elevator when they followed Bruce, his dark coat fluttering with every movement. “Who the hell did you capture off the streets?” Was his greeting.

Clint shrugged. “No idea, some kind of vigilante with super-powers. He definitely needs to be in SHIELDS systems though.” At Fury’s questioning look, Clint frowned. “He knows about the Red Room and how I met Nat.”

Fury scowled. “How the fuck would they know that!?”

They all piled back into the room, Signal still perched calmly in his seat, staring right back at them through the glass. Fury frowned and looked the the ‘vigilante’, only for his eye to widen and whirl on the spot to glare at them.

“You captured one of the Bats! Are you lot crazy!?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Bats?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes! The Bats! His name is Signal isn’t it?”

At Steve’s nod, Fury groaned. “Great…. just great. “You lot managed to nab the Bat’s favourite.”

Tony slapped a hand to his forehead, wincing when the metal hit his skin. “Can you please tell us what the hell you’re yabbering on about Fury?”

Fury planted a hand on his hip. “The Bats are Gotham’s protectors. Simply put they’re a clan of vigilante’s that stop crime and deal with corruption. That person right there. Signal?” He pointed to Signal. “Is Gotham’s daytime guardian. You see Bat’s doesn’t like Meta humans in his city, bar Signal. The other work in the shadows, Signal works in the light.”

Fury pursed his lips. “Signal is considered the Bat clan’s guiding light, he’s the cities beacon of hope.”

The sound of metal clinking against metal drew their attention back to Signal, only to see an empty chair and a set of cuffs next to the repression collar. “What the-“

Then there were alarms blaring, Jarvis’s voice nearly swallowed by the noise. “Sir there are three confirmed intruders in the entertainment room, two unknown, one identified as the prisoner.”

That had them flying from the room, into the common area with their weapons at the ready, only for a sharp ninja star shaped like a god-dammed bat fly past and imbed itself in the wall beside them.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you.”

Tony stared at the the figure standing in front of them with a gaping expression. He had a full bodysuit of Kevlar equipped and a bo staff pointed threateningly at them. Another on dressed in traffic light colours of all things was standing protectively in front of Signal with a katana in hand.

“H-how the hell did you guys get here? Who are you guys?”

The small kid scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Amateurs.” He muttered. The kid with the staff narrowed his eyes briefly. “I’m Red Robin.” He said curtly.

“We’ll be taking our leave now. Director Fury.” He nodded at Fury. “Please be careful with your heroes, if something like this happens again Batman will not be pleased.” At Fury’s nod, Red Robin slammed a pellet into the ground causing smoke to erupt and fill the room.

They all coughed when they inhaled the smoke, and when it cleared after a few seconds, the three were nowhere, no evidence indicating they existed.

“Soooooo, guess we’re avoiding Gotham now?”

Extra: Damian kicked his legs back and forth and he sipped his milkshake, the familiar smog of Gotham's nightlife sitting heavily in the air. "So," he began. "How'd you end up tangling with the Avengers?"

Duke snorted from beside him. "They saw me use my powers alone and pegged me for an amateur hero." He made a face that made Tim giggle.

Damian scoffed. "Please, you? an amateur? That's like saying my Grandfather doesn't have a school-girl crush on Drake over there." Tim gagged. "Really Robin? Did you have to make me think of that?" Duke laughed. "If we have to live with that fact so do you."

[30secondstoanime]

The Birthday Present

pairing: Pro!Hero Midoriya x Fem!Reader

genre/warnings: Reader Insert, Birthday Sex

Kinky Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku Gets Out of His Comfort Zone, That's Not How You're Supposed to Use Your Quirk, Porn With Plot, praise kink?, very smutty, Rough Sex, role-playing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, Light Choking, Doggy Style, Fluff and Smut, after sex cuddles

word count: 7,467

→ summary: Your birthday is around the corner. What better gift than your boyfriend, the #1 Hero Deku, finally giving you what you want the way you want it: rough and kinky. But first plot!

a/n: Sorry about the crap summary and title, I'm working on that lol. So this is my first fic for the bnha fandom and first attempt at writing very explicit sex scenes and venturing into kinks/BDSM, so please be kind, but also I’d love feedback! This was supposed to be a cute four-page oneshot but turned into a sixteen-page, 7k+ word behemoth, hence the self-indulgent tag ‘cause I couldn't stop writing. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor ;)

In a few days, you’ll be turning twenty-four. Your birthday has always been an odd day you think for someone with your quirk because age really was just a number. That’s not to say you weren’t planning to do something fun, at least if you could figure out what you’d like to do. Okay, so that was a lie. You knew exactly what or should you say who you wanted to do and that it involved getting your back blown out. As soon as the thought pops into your head, your epiglottis forgets its job, and you choke on the sip of UCC coffee, you had tried to swallow. You cough to clear your airway, gasping when air finally expands your lungs. You tap your pen nervously against your desk, eyes scanning the other pro heroes’ faces in your agency. It seems your sudden outburst hadn’t disrupted the comfortable silence of the natural lull of the workday. A beep from your hero pager pulls your attention away from people watching in the office. Coordinates flash in five consecutive seconds before the transmission ends. You stand grabbing your toolbelt and strapping it across your hips; you make your way to the front. As you near the exit, you hear your hero name being called. You turn and see Yaomomo briskly walking towards you.

“Hey Creati, you got the page too?”

“I did, sounds like they’ve made a bit of a mess of things.” You scoff good-naturedly.

“When do they ever not. Were they really like this during your time at U.A.?” She giggles and nods her head. You wonder if you’ll ever stop cleaning up after the nation’s top three heroes.

“Better get going then, we both know they share a singular brain cell, so there’s no telling how much time we have to fix things.”

“Atomic!” You laugh at Yaomomo’s weak attempt to scold you — the amusement in her black eyes softens the tone.

              −−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

“Oh my.”

You blow out a low whistle. Ice and scorch marks are scattered across the street and surrounding buildings. Explosive ash is still gently falling from the sky, and black tendrils are haphazardly keeping electric poles, exposed building foundation, and an abundance of wrecked vehicles from collapsing.

“Creati, check the building foundations. Create new beams and weld them together if necessary. I’ll get started on the pole, we can’t have a live electric wire falling.” She nods, and you split off. The work is slow and arduous, but the orderly nature of reorganizing and coaxing atomic particles back into place helps the time pass quickly. You’ve just finished rearranging the anatomical structure of a car hanging from a, thankfully, undamaged light pole, so that it falls to the ground weightlessly. You touch the damaged side, pull it back together, and return the car to its original density. You give the car a quick tap with the toe of your foot to test the structural integrity, satisfied you step back taking in your handiwork. What had a few hours ago looked like a DEFCON 3 military mission gone awry is now back to looking like an ordinary Japanese street. Well, as normal as you and Yaomomo could reconstruct — you weren’t miracle workers, and Ground Zero’s explosive residue was hard to get rid of. Instead, the way it collected and hung in the atmosphere made it difficult for your quirk to erase without condensing the air. That was out of the question unless you wanted to suffocate Yaomomo. Which you didn’t, so the employees of these buildings would be dealing with the smell for at least a week. Sighing, you tuck your hands in your pockets and make your way over to Creati. Her welding mask obscures her face, but you know it’s in deep concentration. After she cuts the torch and pushes the protective gear up, she gives you a smile.

“All done?”

“Just about.”

“I’ll page H.Q. Might even lodge a formal complaint against those three bird brains while I’m at it.”

“(Y/N), you can’t be serious.” She shoots you an incredulous look.

“They make this huge ass mess and don’t even bother to wait for us to arrive before dipping. Total dick move.”

“Ah-huh.” You don’t like the teasing note in her voice.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You cross your arms defensively.

“Spit it out, Yaoyorozu.”

“You sure your foul attitude has nothing to do with not seeing Deku?” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll see him at home like I do every day. So no, I’m not upset about not seeing him.”

“If you say so.” She gives you a look, and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“You cannot still be stuck on that!”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” She bats her eyes at you innocently while creating a duffle bag to transport the welding equipment.

“That God awful theory you and Ashido have about me having a hero kink for Izuku." You begin to walk side by side back to the agency. You hand her an energy bar from your utility belt.

“I mean, you do get very flushed whenever you see him on patrol. Like, if it were a hentai video, you’d definitely be drooling with your tongue lolling out of your mouth.”

“Ugh!” You shove her with your shoulder. “That is so gross.” Both of you laugh, and after a small lapse into silence, you give.

“Okay fine. I might get instahorny whenever I see Izuku in costume, but I can’t help it. He just looks so good, and it’s heightened because I know what he looks like out of costume, and then all I want to do is jump his bones, but of course, I don’t because propriety. So I’m left with all this pent up sexual frustration!”

“So, are you going to ever mention this to him? Your birthday is in a few days and if I may be so bold —”

“It’s never stopped you.” You mumble under your breath with a smile.

“I’d suggest you request it be your birthday present.”

“Pfft. Yaomomo, we’ve been together almost a year and a half, and while our sex life is fucking phenomenal, I’m talking multiple orgasms almost every time, amazing — it’s been very strictly vanilla. Not from any lack of trying on my end, but every time I’ve tried to spice things up, he gets as close as humanly possible to spontaneous combustion. Don’t even get me started on the one time I tried to get him to choke me while I —”

“(Y/N)! Stop, goodness, I do not need the play by play of your and Izuku’s sex life. I just,” she massages her temples, “wanted to make a suggestion. While I’m relieved you feel so secure in our friendship to be so open, please remember I went to high school with him. He’s like a little brother.”

“Oh, Yaomomo, there’s nothing little about him.” Her face pales, and you can’t stifle your cackle. It quickly becomes a full-blown laugh that rattles through your body.

“I went a little too far with that last comment, gomen. On a serious note, though, how would I even go about asking him? ‘Hey babe, it’s my birthday so I want you to fuck me until my knees are jello while in your hero costume because it gets me all hot and bothered oh and since I’m risking it all I’d love it if you tied me up and maybe choked me too.’”

You glance over your shoulder, a look of profound regret is plastered over Yaomomo’s face. You give her an impish grin.

“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue does it.”

“Oh (Y/N).” Your friend shakes her head. When you finally turn the corner onto the street, your hero agency is housed, you catch sight of a mop of green hair. You pick up your pace, a mischievous grin on your face. Using your quirk, you redistribute your mass, so your footfall’s noise against the pavement is silenced. Izuku is talking with someone, his back turned to you. The goods were on display. When he’s in reach, you stretch out your arms, hands cupping his butt you feel him stiffen as you whisper against his ear.

“You’re under arrest for transporting illegal buns of steel.” You watch the blush creep up from his neck before capturing his entire face. He turns his neck, trying to get a good look at you.

“Wh-what!” You begrudgingly let go of his ass, and he turns his body to face you, his freckles standing out against the pink hue of his flustered expression.

“Sorry hun, I don’t make the rules.” You shrug your shoulders.

“I- I, (Y/N) that’s not even a legal penal code! A-and there’s no way I could transport enough steel on my person to warrant a body search.”

“Ooh Deku,” you loosen up the state of your atoms, allowing them to vibrate in mock arousal, “I love it when you talk legal code at me. Repeat it: penal.”

He flounders for a reply, mouth agape at a total loss for words. You giggle at his expression, a total deer in headlights. The person he’d been talking to finally makes themselves known.

“Atomic, you’re still teasing the living soul out of Deku per usual. Glad to know things haven’t changed ‘round here.” His shark tooth smile pulls an equally toothy smile from you.

“Eijiro! When did you get back? I’ve missed you.” You rush to the redhead, and he reciprocates your hug, holding you tight.

“Man, I’ve missed you too (Y/N). The States were cool, but there’s no manlier place than home sweet home.” You pull back and take him in. He looks the exact same if not a little bit more tanned.

“Damn straight.” Yaoyorozu arrives at the end of your reunion. Her excitement at seeing her old friend is nearly palatable. They catch up enthusiastically, and you saddle up next to your boyfriend, who’s finally gotten his blush under control.

“Hey, babe.” You give his cheek a chaste kiss, and he smiles.

“Hey, love,” Izuku gives your hand a squeeze, “How was your day?”

“It was pretty run of the mill except for the utter shitstorm Yaomomo and I had to clean up in Minato City.” You glance down and watch his feet shuffle from side to side.

“Huh, sounds pretty epic.”

“Not the first, second, or even the third word I’d use, but we’re all entitled to our opinions. And don’t you try acting coy with me, Izuku! That blonde ticking time grenade, the confused weather pattern, and your quirk were all over that place.” Izuku gulps.

“I expended a lot of energy cleaning up after you and your friends baka. As compensation, you’ve gotta cook me curry rice. Deal?”

He kisses your cheek in assent.

“Great!” You beam. “I’m gonna go change, be back in fifteen.” You disappear through the agency’s massive double doors. Yaomomo watches until you’re out of view before she walks over to Midoriya.

“So about (Y/N) ’s birthday . . .”

              −−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

When you come out, you find a peculiar scene waiting for you. Yaoyorozu has crafted a fan for, you presume, Izuku, who is so red you could almost see the light refraction from his face’s heat and sweating by what looks like the gallon. Eijiro is by his side, trying to calm him down. You heighten the sensitivity of your cochlea to pick up the tail end of their conversation.

“It’ll be super manly, dude!”

“Bu-but I’ve never . . .” Your boyfriend seems tongue-tied.

“You’ve definitely got it in you,” Eijiro slaps Izuku on the back, “Plus Ultra!”

Izuku echoes Eijiro, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it.

You return to your average level of hearing and walk up to the trio.

“Everything good?” They all look at you with expressions that clearly scream, ‘No, everything is not good dumbass.’

“Riiight, foolish question. Izuku, babe, do you need me to help you?” He squeaks, and that stops you dead in your tracks. The last time he had squeaked in your presence was when he’d asked you out on your first date, and you think it was mostly because you had bluntly told him you had every intention of having sex with him if not after your first then for sure after your second date. He didn’t even squawk when you made good on your declaration, and you had been positive he was going to. Your assurance cost you a ¥2,000 bet with Ochako and Shoto. Whatever had transpired while you were changing had him spooked.

You crouch down and gently take his face between your hands. His cheeks are unnaturally warm. Closing your eyes, you reach out with your quirk to scan his vitals. What the actual fuck? Izuku’s pregenual anterior cingulate cortex is enormous. Your boyfriend is next level embarrassed. His heart rate is in the 200bpm range, which should have been impossible because it only ever got that high when he was exercising, and you were quite familiar with getting it there.

You’re honestly shocked his heart hasn’t started to palpitate with the sky-high levels of cortisol in his blood and high heart rate. Taking a deep breath, you begin to gently persuade the firing neurons near his PACC to chill, its size slowly decreases. You travel down to his hypothalamus and rearrange some of its chemical balance, so it stops producing corticotropin-releasing hormone, creating a negative feedback loop that would lead to his body to drop its cortisol production. You vasoconstrict a handful of the blood vessels in his face for good measure, hoping to cool it down. Your eyes flutter open, and the ruddiness is gone, and his cheeks feel cool against your palms. He gives you a weak smile and gosh that smile, these freckles, those lively emerald eyes. You lean your forehead against his, taking a moment to collect yourself. You kiss the tip of his nose before pulling yourself up, stretching once you’re fully upright.

“Well damn, I’m starving now. I know I said you had to cook for me, but I don’t think I’ll last. What do you say, Number 1. Hero, care to take me out to eat?”

Izuku gets to his feet, with a bit of help from Eijiro, who keeps a hand wrapped around his waist to keep him from stumbling.

“Yeah, of course, love. Just tell me where you want to eat.”

You grin in delight. Before making a decision, you turn to your two other companions. You’re not sure when Yaomomo had time to change, but she’s no longer in her hero costume.

“Would y’all like to join us? Izuku’s treat.” Your cinnamon roll’s protest is drowned out by their loud acceptance.

“I mean, if my bro is gonna treat us, then how could I say no?”

“How gracious Izuku, I’d love to share a meal with everyone.”

“Let’s get going then!” You grab Izuku’s hand and turn around, heading in the direction of the train stop. The walk will give you time to decide where you want to eat.

              −−−−−−−−−−−−−−−−

“Hold on one sec, almost got it.” You pace next to Izuku; the pressure on your bladder almost debilitating. At the click of your front door unlocking and seeing Izuku push it open, you rush through over the threshold. You kick the heels off your feet, your slippers abandoned at the entryway as you make a break for the bathroom. You can’t get your underwear off quick enough. The relief is almost pleasurable. You’d forgotten what it felt like to pee while exceedingly inebriated. Typically when you go out drinking, you elevate your liver’s production of alcohol dehydrogenase so you can avoid getting drunk, but tonight was your birthday celebration, and you wanted to get shitfaced, so you dialed it back. Now that you’re home and not interested in a hangover, you make the necessary adjustments to your liver. The night out had been a pleasant surprise. More people had shown up than you’d been led to believe would, most importantly, your younger siblings had stopped by — you hadn’t seen them since moving to Musutafu to pursue your hero career. You finish reminiscing over the night’s events. Quickly wiping, you flush the toilet and wash your hands. When you open the door, you find your slippers are there waiting. He was a total sweetheart.

You slide your sore feet in and sigh at the fluffiness. You make your way to your bedroom, surprised to find it empty. Where had Izuku gone? You take off your earrings, dropping them into your jewelry box. Making your way to the main bathroom connected to your room, you’ve just finished wiping away your makeup when you hear the door open. You walk to the bathroom door to peek and gasp as soon as you spot the figure closing the door behind them. Now you’d be the first to admit you are a horny bitch, but never have you felt your pussy throb with such a deep longing the way it was throbbing now. You stand still dumbfounded at seeing Izuku in his hero costume in your bedroom.

“Babe?” You try to suppress the quiver in your voice.

“Ma’am,” He tilts his head in greeting, “I got reports of a villain in the vicinity. I’m Deku, and I’m here to take care of you.”

Why the fuck did he just introduce himself? And a villain? You reach out with your quirk but don’t feel an unknown presence nearby. You start to walk towards him but stop at the foot of your bed. He meets you there, and you don’t know what to expect, but it definitely was not him pushing you onto your back. You fall with a muffled thud against the comforter. You stare up at him at a complete loss. You then become hyper-aware of what you’re wearing. The sparkling strappy mini dress leaves little to the imagination, and you’re positive that from his angle, Izuku can see your panties and the growing evidence of your arousal.

“Apologies, ma’am, but I’ll be using my quirk to restrain you as a precautionary measure.” Your mouth goes dry as you watch Blackwhip manifest wrapping around your wrists, pulling your arms above your head, and adhering to your shared bed’s headboard. You have to scoot yourself back a few inches to ease the tension in your shoulders. Holy shit. He just tied you up. This whole time he’s been standing at the end of the bed taking you in. You know your face is flushed, and you can feel your nipples brushing against the material of your dress now that you’re so turned on. Izuku’s hands come into view, and that somehow gets your mouth to work again.

“What are you going to do?” You arch an eyebrow and part your lips to let your tongue dart out and wet them. Fuck Yaomomo wasn’t off the mark with her comment.

“I’ll need to do a full-body search to ensure you’re not concealing anything illegal on your person.” You don’t have time to respond before his gloved hands caress down your pinned arms, across where your neck and shoulders meet. Leaving goosebumps in their wake. He cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You groan as the sensation travels down, pooling between your legs. He moves down your sides, slowly over your exposed thighs sticking strictly to the outside of your legs until he reaches mid-calf. You feel his hands move, and suddenly their inching closer to your aching cunt. Using his right hand Izuku runs a finger teasingly up between your clothed slit and your hips give an involuntary buck. He removes his finger and tuts at you, that pisses you off.

“What the fuck Izu —” You stop yourself when you see another tendril of black materialize near your face.

“Don’t make me gag you. My name is Deku, and you will address me as Deku-sama.” There’s a finality in his tone that leaves no room for argument. You’re torn between being really fucking aroused and very vexed at this role reversal. You’d always been on top, literally and figuratively, and now here he was, your cinnamon roll, threatening to gag you and not even blushing about it. He takes your silence as understanding and begins to hike up the bottom of your dress. With your midriff exposed, he finally settles between your legs, his toned abdomen flush against you. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above your belly button, his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. Izuku’s lips continue to roam over every inch of your exposed abdomen, sucking and biting. He’s going to leave love marks all over your stomach, you’re sure. His hands travel up under your dress, coming to rest just below your breasts. You feel the flat of his tongue working its way towards his hands. When you can feel his breath tickling you already hard nipples, he pulls his face away. You squirm and pull against your restraint — you feel them tighten.

“What is it you want, villain?” Fuuuck. The word falls from his lips wrapped in sinful promise sending another steady pulse of need through your body. Your nervous system was on fire.

“I want you to touch me.” You try to taper down the pleading in your voice, but the mildly amused expression on Izuku’s face says you failed.

“Like this?” His hand runs down your neck, over your dress and through the valley of your cleavage, past your naval stopping at the band of your panties. It dawns on you that he was teasing you.

“Or like this?” You’re not sure when his gloves came off or how he managed it, but one second you’re covered by the flimsy dress material next, the straps keeping it up are torn, and the dress pulled down. You hiss at the shock of the sudden temperature change, but quickly warm up as calloused fingers massage your breasts. A greedy moan is the only answer you can manage as you arch your back into his touch. He leans closer, breath warm against your neck, and moves a hand down to grip your ass,

“Let’s see if these are illegal buns of steel.” Even with how incredibly husky his voice is, you almost laugh at his remark’s absolute absurdity. Still, having maybe foreseen your reaction Izuku wraps one of your nipples between his lips before you can utter a sound.

“Deku-sama.” You inhale sharply coming completely unwound as his tongue flicks and swirls. His mouth sucks and pulls playfully. When his teeth graze your nipple, you contemplate making your hands boneless to escape the restraints just so you could tangle your hands in his hair; even with the undercut, you knew you could make him moan. The idea is quickly dashed as Izuku releases your now overly sensitive bud with a resounding pop that sends the ache in your pussy into a frenzy. Good god , he hasn’t even gotten inside of you yet. He treats your other nipple with much the same attention. However, this time, he lets his teeth give it a gentle nibble, and the shock of the feeling causes your skin to prickle. You feel him grin at your reaction before giving your nipple a farewell lick. He captures your lips, shoving his hips down against your own, as his hands’ ghost over your neck. You hook a leg around his hip, pulling him closer, trying to create as much friction as possible as you roll your hips upward. He lets out a breathy chuckle, as his mouth moves to replace his hands. He kisses up your neck, his breath tickles your ear, and you stutter out a needy whimper.

“Someone’s eager.” You groan in frustration as he pulls back. His hands grab hold of what’s left of your dress, and you help him get you out of it. He runs a finger up your stomach, stopping just below your sternum. The tip of his index finger traces a lazy circle before leaving a trail of goosebumps back down to your hip. The pressure of his finger is replaced by his mouth, biting the flesh of your hip crease hungrily. He kisses his away across to your opposite hip, traces of his kisses wet against your skin. You feel his fingers toying with the lacy hem of your panties before he hooks them in the elastic, pulling them down. You lift your hips as they pass over the curve of your ass, and you wriggle in anticipation. Izuku braces his left forearm against your right thigh, pushing your legs wider. His index finger explores your wet folds, dipping briefly into your slit, before brushing against your swollen clitoris.

“Deku-sama, please .” You don’t care how desperate you sound, the ache in your pussy is becoming unbearable. The slow burn was killing you.

“Since you said, please.” He slips a thick finger inside of you, curling it just so it massages the soft and spongy spot that makes your toes curl and lewd obscenities fall from your parted lips.

“Aah, fuck. Fuck, yes, there, right there. More. Izuku give me more.” A second finger is roughly inserted. You cry out as a jolt of ecstasy consumes every inch of you. He begins to scissor his fingers back and forth, “It’s De-ku sa-ma,” each thrust emphasizing the syllables of his declaration. You rock your hips up, trying to get his fingers deeper because you are close. You can feel the dam getting ready to burst. When his thumb circles your clit, you feel yourself clench around his fingers. He inhales sharply. You bite back a moan as stars begin to dance across your vision. The rhythm of his fingers picks up, and the pressure on your clit begins to be too much.

“You’re about to cum.” It’s not a question, but you manage to pant a yes, and it becomes your undoing. Tongue replaces fingers before you can bemoan feeling empty, hands wrap under your thighs, keeping you exposed when they instinctively try to shut. His fingers dig into soft flesh, and the pain leaves you dizzy for more. He unhooks his left arm from your thigh, again using his forearm to keep your leg down. Two fingers spread you open, and his breath is warm, and you screw your eyes shut because fucking hell, you feel ready to erupt. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slips inside you and starts to lick around. His nose brushes against your clit as he laps up your wetness. When he takes your clitoris in his mouth, you feel yourself at the edge of a precipice.

“Y-your fin-fingers. Deku-sama.” You frantically tug against your binds as you arch your hips rutting into his face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You feel yourself drowning in pleasure when his fingers join back in the fray. You’re full, and his tongue is everywhere. Inside you along with his fingers, pressing in all the right places. There’s no room to be embarrassed by your body’s wet sounds as you thrust against his fingers or the sounds he’s eliciting from you — loud, throaty, and gluttonous. He laps up the juices wherever they end up, on your thighs, in your folds, the space between your pussy and ass. At your clit he teases with nibbles, quick flicks of his tongue, and long flat strokes. He was treating you like you were his favorite meal. Coming back for seconds, thirds, fourths. You lose track of time. The air crackles with electricity, Izuku, the electromagnet to your copper coils. It sparks against your skin. Were you doing that? You couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter because something was building. You feel it in your core, your quirk causing your atoms to buzz in excitement. He lets you hook your legs around his back, locking your ankles. You make a strangled noise when a particularly aggressive thrust combined with the head-splitting euphoria of Izuku’s tongue on your clit brings your Earth stuttering on its axis.

“Oh fuck, oh kami. Shit, Deku-sama!”

You flicker in and out. One second howling Izuku’s name like a prayer to the Gods, hips rolling up to meet his mouth. The next, you find yourself weightless in a void no longer in a corporeal form. What the fuck? It lasts no longer than a second before you return to your body and the sound of him cooing against your aching cunt.

“That’s it, cum villain. Cum for me.” And cum, you do. Waves of fiery ecstasy set your body aflame. You clench your fists and use your legs to pull Izuku’s face further flush against you. When you think you can catch your breath, Izuku surprises you by coaxing you into another smaller orgasm. You don’t know how he did it, but you really can’t complain, you’re feeling blissful as fuck. The bed creaks as he shifts back onto his knees, unwrapping your legs from around him. Blachwip is deactivated, and your arms fall uselessly to your sides. You feel your legs quiver from exertion, and you watch your chest rise in fall sporadically as your breathing levels off. You prop yourself up on your elbow to give Izuku a once over. He’s got a bit of sweat on his forehead, you can see the outline of his erection against the front of his hero costume, and your cum glistens on his nose, mouth, and chin. Not sure how you manage it, with your body feeling so close to putty, but you scoot back, pulling yourself up into a seated position, and rock forward onto your knees so you’re facing him.

You move closer, so your knees brush against his. Now that you’re close enough, you can see how blown his pupils are. They almost wholly eclipse the dark shamrock of his irises. He had it bad for you. You could fix that. You grab his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tilting it down to your lips so you can lick it clean. When your tongue traces the outline of his mouth, a low moan rumbles in the back of his throat. You get his mouth open with a hard nip to his bottom lip. Tasting yourself in his mouth and on his tongue makes you squeeze your thighs together briefly before you let your free hand wander between your legs to stroke your clit and moistening labia. You give the tip of his nose a cutesy peck that almost brings a blush to his freckled face, but he remains in character, so you palm his cock with your damp hand grinning devilishly when he stutters an exhale.

“I want you, hero.”

Izuku’s chuckle is rich, and you can feel it reverberate against where your chests connect. You start to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, the short buzz of his undercut tickles your fingertips. Sliding your hand up, you finally get to tangle your fist in his hair, your grip tightens, and you pull his head back, exposing his neck. Your tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to just below his earlobe, all the while your hand strokes him into fully hardening.

“I’m not fucking around, Deku.” Your voice is thick and your tone dark, dangerous. He grabs the wrist of the hand that’s between his legs and growls,

“Neither am I villain slut.” You swallow hard at his inflection on the word slut. You’d never been called a slut during sex, and under any other circumstance, you’re sure it wouldn’t have sent a thrill of arousal pulsing from your fingertips down to your toes. He brings the hand up above your head, reaching behind his head to grab your second hand. You give him a feral grin, and his eyes flash before he sends you to your back. You’re about to stretch out your legs when he commands you to flip over onto your hands and knees. You do as you’re told, biting your lip as warmth begins to once again pool between your legs. You wish you could help him out of his costume, but it sounds like your help wasn’t needed. His dick grazes against the back of your thighs. A finger follows the curve of your spine. You arch into the touch and moan when it dips at your hip to tap your clitoris.

“You’re so wet already. You villains really know nothing about bedroom decorum.” He skims a hand over your stomach, stopping to grope and tease your hardened nipples.

“Oh? Keeping a woman in suspense isn’t exactly proper in my book De-ku sa-ma.” You look over your shoulder with a smirk.

“You’re,” he thrust into you without warning, quickly turning the grin on your face into an open-mouthed ‘oh,’ “not,” he pulls out, so the tip of his head just barely touches your cunt, “a woman.” He pushes into you, swearing under his breath as you push your hips back to meet his momentum. A ragged breath escapes your lips as you adjust to him, filling you. Shit, the boy is thick. His nails dig into your hip as he continues to fuck you at a painfully slow pace. Fingers tweak your nipples, and you feel your whole body flush with pleasure. You clutch the bedsheets in two tight fists when he starts to quicken his thrusts. His chest is slick with sweat against your back, his tongue tracing circles into your shoulder. An aggressive stroke sends the head of his cock rubbing up against your G-spot, and you feel your walls squeeze around him.

“Shit, shit, fuck Deku. That’s it. Just keep putting pressure on that spot.” You feel your elbows buckle, and you expect to crash into the bed. Instead, black tendrils wrap around your arms to keep you upright. This is definitely not how Lariat intended Blackwhip’s tendrils to be used. The thought makes you giggle. It seems that this was not a sound Izuku wanted to hear coming from you. He bites down on the spot of your shoulder he’d been suckling, making his displeasure known. You feel him adjust himself behind you, perhaps too quickly, because he slips out of you, and you protest immediately with a loud whine.

“I’ll give you something to whine about.” He thrust back into you, your knees go weak, and your pussy’s stimulation begins to pull the taught rope of your impending orgasm closer to snapping. One of his hands grabs the hair at the base of your neck, tugging with just enough force to tease a guttural mewl from you.

“That’s more like it.” You’re so overstimulated, with the rhythm of his dick coming in and out of you. The attention he’s paying to your clit, you scarcely have the headspace to be shocked by the personality change. Izuku doesn’t release his hold on your hair; instead, he deactivates Blackwhip and uses the grip to guide you, so your back is flush against his chest. You can smell the muskiness of his sweat with him so close. It mingles in the air with the scent of your arousal. Sex, the whole room smelled heavily of your fucking. He brushes a thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down gently. You open your mouth, taking it in, holding it gently between your teeth, your lips acting as a cushion. You suck on Izuku’s thumb, letting your tongue swirl over the tip treating it how you would if you were instead sucking on the head of his cock. You hollow out your cheek and release his thumb with a satisfying pop. Your reward is the sound of Izuku’s heated gasp. The sound tightens the coil in your groin. You feel his right hand lightly trailing up your side. You expect him to stop to cup your breast, but a tingle runs up your spine when he skips it entirely. His thumb rests a few inches under your right ear, the fleshy part of his palm rests against your trachea, the remaining four fingers occupy the same spot under the opposite ear. You can’t hide your excitement as he begins to apply light pressure to your neck. It’s amplified when he whispers in your ear,

“Whose slut are you, villain?”

“I’m yours. All yours.” He squeezes a little tighter, and you squirm, gripping his left hip for stability.

“Yours, Deku-sama. I’m all yours.” You choke over the words while he loosens his grip satisfied with your correction. The brief bout of intoxicating lightheadedness dissipates quickly, but he keeps his hand around your neck.

You feel him, hard and slick, throbbing inside you, and you know he’s close. You prepare to ride out the coming crescendo that you’ll set off with your silver tongue.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, hero? I can feel your cock pulsing.” He squeezes your neck tighter than he has before reminding you who was in charge. You dig your nails into his hip and bite your lip. Was he turning into a masochist, or were you?

“I want you to cum in me. Make me your bona fide villain bitch — think you’re up for it, big boy?” You were being so bold, goading him. It does the trick. He releases his hold on your neck, you’re a little sad, but are swiftly distracted by a sudden burst of heat and green energy crackling, the telltale sign of Full Cowl being activated. What the hell was he up to? Your answer comes moments later when his hands push your bent legs further apart, hooking his arms under your thighs to lift them up. You feel weightless, free, and so very wanton. Then like being dosed with ice-cold water, you come back to your senses; you’ve always been terrified of being picked up during sex. Your arms flail, searching for anything to grab hold of. They settle awkwardly at Izuku’s neck. Your breathing is a little erratic.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” Oh, he was being a total ass.

“Absolutely not.” You bite back.

“Heh.”

Sensing your discomfort, he places you back down on your knees, his hand returning to your neck — where it belonged. Shit, it was you, you’re the masochist. You feel him throb inside you, the head of his penis gets a little bigger and his cock harder. His movements become more sporadic. You take his free hand and lead it to your clit, you’d be damned if he cums before you. His groans become music to your ears, loud and ravenous as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts. Soon that’s all you can feel, like tunnel vision nothing else matters, there are no other options, but his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you as his fingers dance around your clit. He flicks and pulls, rubs circles, and you savor every second of it. Everything cumulates into a blinding flash of white-hot light as if you’re staring directly at burning magnesium. You hear him crying out your name, and it mixes with your carnal pleas into a cacophonous soundtrack to your mutual climax. He finishes inside you, the thick viscous liquid of his orgasm, filling you with more warmth than you anticipated. As you ride out your orgasm, you don’t stop gyrating your hips until you feel Izuku become soft. You let out a shaky breath as you come to a stop to catch your breath. You’re thankful that he doesn’t seem eager to pull out quite yet while you bask in the quiet exhilaration of having orgasmed three times this night.

“I’m going to pull out now, okay?”

You nod your head slightly, words out of reach with your euphoria’s hum still clouding your mind. Cum trickles down between your thighs, the sensation almost ticklish, but far more erotic. With nothing connecting you to Izuku, your body gives in to its exhaustion, falling forward unceremoniously. He wraps an arm around your waist, setting you gently down on your stomach. Rolling onto your back, you shimmy up onto a pillow to support your head. You glance up at Izuku and sigh in content. Hair stuck to his head, abs contracting as he slows his breathing (his heart rate close to 180bpm), and his left-hand traces the scars on his right arm absently. Even in such a worn-out state, he looked otherworldly. You lock eyes, and you pat his side of the bed next to you.

“Cuddle with me.” At hearing those three words, he sheds his façade, his eyes soften, his jaw loosens, and he eagerly obliges your request. He rests his head on your chest, your fingers playing with his hair as he gently brushes your side. You stay like this for a few minutes until he starts out of your arms like someone’s lit a fire under his ass. He sits up, you follow suit intrigued by what’s got him so worked up. You watch him reach across towards his nightstand. He pulls out a notebook and a pencil. You have to suppress your snort as he begins scribbling furiously. You couldn’t even pretend to be surprised, catching bits and pieces of his muttering.

“. . . dominated . . . choking . . . loud . . . buns of steel. . .” You can’t stifle the laugh that escapes you. He glances up and gives you a sheepish grin, his face like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“You fucked me into another dimension, jot that down in your sex notebook.” A blush erupts across his face.

“I-I what? Seriously?”

“Mhmm, as seriously as my orgasm.” Embarrassment flickers momentarily in his eyes, quickly replaced by intense curiosity. You dare say you see a little triumphant gleam too.

“What happened, tell me everything, love.” You recount what he’d been doing with his tongue and fingers. The feeling leading up to it and what it looked like in this other dimension.

“Sounds like you’ve unlocked another facet of your quirk.”

“Looks like it, but it’s not really useful.” He gives you an inquiring look; you roll your eyes. He could be so dense sometimes.

“I can’t exactly have you eating me out in public every time I want to astral project now, can I?” His blush returns full force.

“Maybe there’s another way.”

“Possibly, but I’m beat. My legs feel like jello, and I’m starting to feel sore.” You massage your neck, glancing at your exposed breasts and the marks that speckle them. Izuku looks at you with worry.

“You can’t fix it with your quirk?”

“I can, but where’s the fun in that? One of my favorite parts of sex is feeling it the next day. I’m definitely going to tomorrow and maybe the day after thanks to you.” You give him a wink and admire as he fumbles with his words.

“Oh! Well, I mean. Yeah. No problem. I think?” He was definitely back to being your cinnamon roll. You giggle quietly.

“Before I go clean up, I’ve gotta know. How did you do that.” You motion with your hand, hoping he picks up what you’re putting down. He does.

“Simple, lots of research.” You squint at him, touching the pulse at his neck. It was slightly elevated.

“Ah-huh, and what else?”

“No-nothing!” The pulse quickens a little more.

“Did you role play with someone?” The idea sounds absolutely preposterous, but when he pushes your hand away from his neck and gets up off the bed, you know you’ve struck a nerve.

“You’re using your quirk, that’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war. So, who was it with? Shoto? Eiji? Or was it Katsuki ?” The light hue of pink that creeps up his neck is all the confirmation you need.

“Ah,” you bob your head sagely, “it makes sense, babe, he gives off a total masochist vibe. I’d have practiced with him too. What was it like? Would he be open to a threesome? Or would it be a foursome since he’s got that not, so secret thing going with Eiji? Could I even handle the three of you?” You wonder out loud.

“(Y/N)!” Izuku rushes into the bathroom, adamantly trying to end this conversation. You weren’t letting this go, oh no siree, so you get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where Izuku’s turned on the shower and is standing under its current.

“Nice try. You’re giving me the details.” He sighs defeatedly.

“Can it wait until we’re in the bath.” You cross your arms in a huff, pouting.

“I guess.” Izuku grabs you, pulling you into the shower with him. You wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest. He gives the top of your head a kiss.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

Happy fucking birthday to me. You smile to yourself.

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 9 - Obligation

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot​ @suzy-rainbow​ @miingxuxi​ ​​

“It was like Se Kyung’s eyes had been surgically transferred into another body. ”

Hesitation stops Kim Jo-Pil for a few seconds. He parts his quivering lips and takes a deep breath, then says, just loud enough for Juyeon to hear, “I made a mistake. One too big for me to dig a hole and throw it in.”

Juyeon’s frown deepens, and he hears the sheets shuffling in the bedroom. He reaches forward, pulling Jang Won’s door shut.

It is only in Kim Jo-Pil’s home-made office (also known as Jang Won’s second guest room) that Juyeon is surprised by the number of mini and portrait-sized canvasses painted by his wife. Just for a split second, Juyeon buys it. Maybe Kim Jo-Pil isn’t as horrid of a person Kim Jang Won thinks he is.

But it’s the picture of their family sitting on his desk that ironically turns Juyeon’s head around.

“What is all this? For show? For when Jang Won storms in and you’ll think she’ll go soft, seeing all this?”

Kim Jo-Pil lands himself in the sofa seat next to the bed, piled with files and documents and boxes, leaving Juyeon to stand awkwardly by the end of the bed, eyes scanning the mess in the room.

“You sound like her... after her mother passed and before I did.”

Juyeon’s nostrils flare. “If you don’t want to tell me why you decided to come back and ruin her life, so be it. I don’t need to stand here and listen to all your-”

“Younghoon wasn’t Se Kyung’s first child.”

Silence.

Juyeon’s heart halts in his chest. 

Kim Jo-Pil looks out the window, eyes looking in the distance where the city’s skyscrapers were kissing the sun. “Se Kyung had a child born out of wedlock before she married me. But they made her choose. The child’s life or her freedom.”

“Back then, The Board already had administrations favouring arranged marriages between families under the conglomerate. It was an easy system to keep the number of royalties under control. The cycle repeats itself. Two families become one, and a new family joins. Superpowers are reduced from two to one overnight, and The Board would never have to be worried about being overthrown because the supers would simply be too busy outdoing each other and seeking validation from the administration.”

“Did you know?” Juyeon whispers. “That she already had a child?”

“I knew... not because I was meant to, but because I wanted to. It was The Board’s annual Christmas Charity Event in the early 1990s and Se Kyung had gone with her parents, and I had gone with mine. She was sweeter than a daisy in a meadow full of flowers. She was polite, kind, and had a reputation for being the most stubborn creature on the planet, even then. It was one of the many things that Jang Won had inherited from her.”

“She spent her early twenties away from home, supposedly in another country working her way through foreign industries and making a name for herself. I didn’t know she had returned until my father told me that the Yoo family had chosen to merge with another - mine - I couldn’t be happier. One night, I decided to sneak to into their property and propose to her formally, way before the arrangements were to be made public. And... I heard it. The crying. Fighting.”

Kim Jo-Pil’s eyes fall. “She had returned with a child in hopes to bond her to the Yoo family. The father was a coward and ran once he had heard she was from a reputable family. Too much politics, too much money.”

“But the baby. Oh, the baby. Sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My poor, poor Se Kyung... She was given the options: Marry into the Kim family and give the baby away, or her parents will have it dispensed like it had never been born.”

By now, Kim Jo-Pil has tears in his eyes.

“After we had Younghoon, something in Se Kyung clicked back to life. I remember the night she delivered him. The sparkle in her eyes that I fell in love with the day I met her had returned... but I knew for a fact that I needed to find her first-born, no matter the implications. It was the least I could do for her. By then, the child had to be a few years older than Younghoon and so, I spent the time that I should’ve spent with Se Kyung and my own children looking for her - the baby.”

“Se Kyung lost her parents in an accident the night Jang Won was born. She lost the worst nightmares of her life in exchange for a beautiful baby girl... so, what more could she ask for?”

Kim Jo-Pil sucks a deep breath. “I couldn’t find the child. I went to all the orphanages and the foster homes and by then Se Kyung had already fallen ill. Brain cancer - inherited. All I wanted was to return Se Kyung was her first-born and yet I did not deliver. When Jang Won was 16, Se Kyung passed. The last foster home that had taken care of the child said that she had reached a legal age to take care of herself. She could’ve gone under the radar if she wanted, changed her name if she wanted, and I’ll never be able to find her. Little did I know that she had grown to become much more of a person than I ever expected her to be, and she had been practicing advanced medicine throughout her college life.”

Juyeon is giddy from the influx of information, and so he braces himself when his own neurons piece the puzzle together.

“She was the one who revived you. The child.”

The elder shuts his eyes and lets the tears dribble over his lids.

It felt like a dream. The ache in his chest. The rough texture of gravel under his cheek when he collapsed. But Kim Jo-Pil opens his eyes, in thorough shock, when he realises he’s not in the hospital, but in some worn-down warehouse with a bunch of illegal medication that shouldn’t even be legally available outside of the hospital.

He had remembered the lights in the operating theatre, and even the sound of his slowing heartbeat in the drums of his ears.

So how is it possible that he’s-

“Ah, you’re awake! I was starting to worry that it didn’t work, Goddamn Narcan.”

Kim Jo-Pil tries to move, but he can’t. He couldn’t move a single muscle in his body besides his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The lights above him had been preventing him from seeing her face, and when he did, he swore he could’ve been snapped into two when he recognised her eyes.

She pushes away the lights and turns to remove her surgical equipment, the sound of latex snapping away from her fingers echo through the dismay of the room. She returns her attention to Kim Jo-Pil.

It was like Se Kyung’s eyes had been surgically transferred into another body.

“I’m Yoo Hye In, and I heard you’ve been searching for me.”

Exasperated and in disbelief, Juyeon runs his hands through his hair, turning to make sure the door of the room was shut. 

“Why are you even telling me this? How do I know I can trust you to tell me the truth?”

“Yes, because I have all the damn time in the world to be cooking up this story!” He gets up and pulls up his shirt, revealing a stitched scar right over where his heart was. “I trust you because you have no reason to backstab her.” 

He releases his shirt. 

“Other than Younghoon, I don’t know if anybody else in this system can offer her any kind of security.”

“How do you know I’m not gonna run off after getting half of HERA & ARTEMIS?”

“Because if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have been such a jerk to her over your wedding.”

Juyeon presses his fingers over his closed lids. His vision is blurred when he opens them. 

“Why don’t you just tell Jang Won about this? She can protect you. She can sieve out this... Yoo Hye In, give her what she wants-”

“Jang Won will never give Hye In what she wants.”

Juyeon can feel the edges of his lips curl downwards and his lids getting heavier from mental exhaustion. “...Hye In wants HERA & ARTEMIS?”

Kim Jo-Pil’s eyes can’t seem to leave the floor. He can’t help the dreaded feeling of failure drowning his conscience as a father, as someone who was rightfully supposed to protect her. 

“So, what’s your plan? Hye In wants HERA & ARTEMIS, and you know for a fact that Jang Won won’t give that up... like, ever. What happens if Hye In doesn’t get HERA & ARTEMIS?”

“Hye In will go to the press. Her existence being Yoo Se Kyung’s first-born out of wedlock will destroy everything this family has built. Hera’s Manor, HERA & ARTEMIS, Artemis...” He shakes his head. “Either gone or hers. She’s playing saint by not doing that directly.”

“But what does Yoo Se Kyung’s mistake have anything to do with Jang Won?” Juyeon seethes, inhaling such a deep breath that his chest hurt. “This is unfair. She should not have to go through this-”

“And you think I don’t know that?” Kim Jo-Pil’s lower lip trembles, a hardening gaze plastered to Juyeon. 

Heaviness blankets the room. Juyeon’s frown feels cemented into his forehead as he sits at the edge of the crowded bed, fingers on his temple. 

“Juyeon.”

The younger side-eyes the elder, cautious. 

“Once you’ve acquired Apple-Korea, I want you to buy all of HERA & ARTEMIS, then acquire Artemis Entertainment as well.”

“You know Jang Won won’t allow that.”

“Try. You’ll have the power to and she can’t exactly stop you,” He huffs, chest rising. “She doesn’t need to know yet. I will tell her the truth when it blows over.”

“’Blows over’? How is this going to ‘blow over’? You just said Hye In won’t give in until she gets HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“But she can’t fight for ownership if it’s the owner is not of Yoo’s descent. Which means once you acquire all of HERA & ARTEMIS-”

“Then she’s no longer a threat.”

Kim Jo-Pil nods. “But you will need Jang Won’s trust to acquire all of HERA & ARTEMIS, and she cannot know about Hye In before that happens. Once the order is out of place, Jang Won will stop at nothing to fight for HERA & ARTEMIS, not knowing that she’ll be fighting a lost war.”

“Jang Won doesn’t even trust Younghoon. How do you expect her to trust me?”

“Look at where you’re standing,” Her father turns, but doesn’t look at Juyeon directly. The sun kisses a single side of his face as his eyes scan the room. “You’re standing in Hera’s Manor, and you’re her first overnight guest in five years. I’d say you have a pretty good chance at earning the rest of her trust.”

Juyeon winces slightly, shutting his lids to process the information. There’s a grave sense of responsibility perched on his shoulders now, and the dread that lingers in the back of his skull when he thinks of Yoo Hye In strutting around in public makes him uneasy. 

Juyeon finds himself mindlessly heading for the dining hall, where Mr Ro was finishing up the preparation of the wide array of food on the side table. The butler bows, but it goes unnoticed. He pulls the chair back for Juyeon to sit, and eventually calls him a cup of coffee when he notices Juyeon’s lack of attention. 

“Mr Ro.”

“Hmm?” The chocolate-brown shade of coffee glitters under the light from outside. 

“How long do you think it’ll take Jang Won to trust me?”

Mr Ro pulls away, handing the pot of coffee to another staff. “Well, Mr Lee... that depends on what circumstance we’re envisioning.”

“Her life. Maybe something she loves, something she can’t live without.”

“So, a prized possession.”

“Mm.”

Mr Ro pauses for a thought. 

“Long, but play your cards right, and she will eventually trust you.”

Juyeon offers a strained curve of his lips when Mr Ro bows and returns to the kitchen, leaving him with a bunch of pastries that should be sold in some five-star hotel instead.

Jang Won strolls into the dining hall dawned in a gorgeous full-fitted set, make-up and hair done like she was going for her own press conference. Juyeon remains quiet at the table, only looking up once when she first enters, then he returns to spreading Nutella on his croissant.

“Jesus, do we not have anything from Younghoon or my father to let him wear besides those pajamas?”

“You lent me these pajamas, don’t make it sound like it was my bad choice to make. Besides, they are comfortable and cute,” Juyeon looks down at himself.

Jang Won gruffly scoffs. “Of course it’s comfortable. It’s made from Supima cotton. What do you think we are, savages?”

“Mrs Lee, I-”

“Call me that again and I will fire you,” She abruptly instructs, glaring at her butler.

“Ms Kim,” He corrects himself. “We have already called Younghoon’s fitters to bring by some wardrobe for Mr Lee before he joins you for the itinerary meeting.”

“Itinerary meeting?” She whips her head from Mr Ro to Juyeon, who was busy licking the Nutella off the knife he was using. “Don’t you have to be in the office or something?”

“And do what? Put myself in a situation where my parents can come to kidnap me home? No thanks.”

Jang Won leans back in her seat as the staff places a cup of tea in front of her, surprised at Juyeon’s enthusiasm with something that he didn’t need to worry about.

“Well, I have a doctor’s appointment after, so, you can come back home after unless you want to hang around old, dying people.”

“What?” Juyeon sneers. “What for? You look perfectly fine to me.”

“That’s because I have been going for these medical checkups, dumbass. I’m not gonna stand around and then what if I magically die of a heart attack- then what? Give you all of HERA & ARTEMIS and Artemis Entertainment? Pshht!”

Juyeon purses his lips - a terrible attempt at hiding his smile. 

Young Jin Seol [12.13pm]: Your father just dropped by this morning. He knows you’re at Hera’s Manor. 

Young Jin Seol [12.14pm]: He’s requesting for a meal, for him and Mrs Lee as well as you and Kim Jang Won after you return from your honeymoon.

He quietly locks the device, attention drifting from the messages to Jang Won, who was busy strolling about the office. The ride here had been quiet, for Juyeon had chosen to drive and Jang Won sent two guards to Kim Sunwoo’s residence to get her Mercedes back. 

Heavy and thoughtful, Juyeon thought. The atmosphere in the car was strange, and he can’t help but to wonder of Jang Won was even aware she had a nightmare (or a trauma relapse, or whatever you called one of those) earlier in the morning. Maybe it was the accustomed sight of Jang Won being as cold and rigid as a statue that makes it harder to bear. Juyeon fails, when he tries to restrain the ache that devours his chest, unable to remove the image of her crying and holding on to that mini canvas like it were her life. 

The door of the office clicks open and it steals both his and her attention, the tour agency officer bowing to the two tycoons with files in her arms. Juyeon stands, patting down his pants. 

“Mr Lee!” She holds out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Mrs Lee didn’t make your attendance known.”

Juyeon smiles politely at her, shaking her hand whilst admiring the distasteful grimace on Jang Won’s face at the address. 

“Please, just call me Juyeon, and my wife, Jang Won. We’re still not used to the new... salutations.”

The officer offers a low chuckle, turning to Jang Won and raising a cheeky brow. Juyeon’s left brow twitches when Jang Won’s grimace remains cemented into her lips, and yet the officer was still grinning like an idiot. 

“Do you two know each other?”

“Call me ‘Mrs Lee’ one more time, and I will murder you,” Jang Won seethes, opening her arms and pulling her into a tight hug. An exhale gets punched out of Juyeon, feeling somewhat at ease with the change in atmosphere. 

“I knew that would totally get you on edge,” The officer laughs, patting Jang Won on her back between her shoulder blades. Pulling away, she turns to Juyeon and bows, this time more candidly. “I’m Ki Hae Ri, your tour officer for your honeymoon next week.”

Watching Jang Won talk to Hae Ri was almost like watching her get possessed by a 13-year-old teenager. More than amused, Juyeon wasn’t even paying attention to the actual content Hae Ri was talking about regarding the itinerary - all he could see was the bright smile on Jang Won’s face. 

And for once, since the day he first met her, this smile was genuine. Her eyes are folded into crescents when she laughs and chortles and berates Hae Ri for every little detail she puts in the conversation to tease Jang Won. 

“And for you, Mr Lee,” Hae Ri’s voice snaps him out of his mindless admiration. “Jang Won here has told me that you like diving and so I must tell you that she suggested of doing Belize.”

The folder slides across the table, and Jang Won shoots Hae Ri a look of betrayal. Automatically darting his attention to Jang Won, Juyeon’s fingers trail the edges of the folder, a picture of the Belize Blue Hole printed on the cover page.

Clearing her throat, Jang Won looks afar, refusing to even face him. “So it’s an 8-hour drive, or a 1.5 hour flight from Guatemala to Belize. It was a suggestion in one of the itinerary sets anyway.”

Juyeon looks up from the 3-day Belize stay itinerary, noticing Hae Ri’s prideful, cheeky grin stretched up her lips. 

Back in the car, Juyeon’s hands are on the steering wheel, engine already churning and the air-conditioner blasting the coolness into their faces. Jang Won waits for some moments, before realising the amount of movement in the car - or rather, the lack thereof.

“Hello? Doctor’s appointment?” The edge in her voice is back and Juyeon can’t help but wonder just how she does it - being so cold and caring at the same time. “If you’re not interested, then you can just get the fuck out and I’ll call Mr Ro to come pick you up.”

Juyeon pauses for a moment, collecting the vocabulary in his head.

“My parents want to meet us for a meal after we return from our honeymoon.”

The whir of the air-conditioner suddenly sounds a little louder. 

“What for?” Jang Won snorts. “Is your mom planning on baking cupcakes and apologising for making this the worst decision of your life, even though it wasn’t even yours to make?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll have to go. They are still my parents.”

“What?” She criticises, her upper lip hooked upwards. “You ran away! From home! And now you want to just... bring a basket of fruits to a picnic with them just ‘cause they’re your parents? Ha!”

“Look, I don’t like it either, but if we don’t do this then they’ll just be bugging me forever and if that happens then I can’t do what you want me to do with HERA & ARTEMIS peacefully. If anything, they might just fuck shit up if they don’t have this meal with us.”

“‘Fuck shit up’? I’ll fuck them up-”

“We’ll go, and that’ll be the end of it, okay? Trust me, you don’t want them dipping their noses into our shit once we start with all the ownership administration.”

“’Dipping their noses’? Just who the Hell do your parents think they are? They don’t even own any of the companies related to the-”

“I know, God damn it,” Juyeon finally rebuts, patience running thin. “But they have power. According to The Board’s conglomerate, my family is on the same tier as yours.”

Jang Won huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the window. 

“Just... just this once, and they’ll go easy. It’s not worth picking a fight with them, I promise you. Okay?”

Jang Won struggles to remove the frown off her forehead. She knows it’s not his fault. She knows his parents are shitty people.

And yet, for some reason, she’s jealous that Juyeon even has parents to feel obligated towards. 

Destiny, prophecy, fate. You name it. Just what is it that makes things so complicated in life? Circumstances can be created, changed, altered. Jang Won can question God about how she ended up right in this very spot every day, but she won’t get an answer, ever. Juyeon can wonder why she had to be the one responsible for her mother’s mistake, and he’ll never know why either. 

Juyeon trails carefully behind Jang Won, slightly surprised that she wasn’t visiting the area’s best hospital for her medical checkups. Not that this was one was bad, but it was... affordable. Taking in the sights and sounds as he enters the main hall, Jang Won advances towards the registration counter and pulls off her sunglasses.

“Here,” She slides a clipboard to the side. “Fill this visitor registration form up.” 

Juyeon picks up the pen, watching her pull out her wallet and hand it over to the administration staff. 

“Hi, I have an appointment with Ms Yoo Hye In.”

Juyeon’s eyes dart upwards from the visitor registration sheet, pupils flitting between the administrator and Jang Won, who was calmly signing into some check in registry. He can feel his breath grow shaky and unstable and all of a sudden, Jang Won’s looking at him like he was the crazy person in the room.

“What? Are you okay?” 

He parts his lips to deny the question, wishing to brush it off and simultaneously, maybe convince himself that it was just someone with the same name. 

“Jang Won! I was wondering if you were going MIA today again.”

Ironically, his heart stops. Jang Won puts on her service smile and provides her doctor a subtle wave as the two close the distance between them. 

“Of course not. Gotta make my check-up down-payment worth it. I can’t run around the city working my work if I’m unwell, can I?” 

“Well, I see you brought the future director of Apple-Korea with you,” Yoo Hye In turns to Juyeon, eyes bright and her smile convincingly kind. Her hair was short, well trimmed, and Juyeon was almost in shock that he could see the similarities between her and Jang Won. 

The tycoon whips her head upon the silence, almost shifting to nudge him. “Juyeon.”

“No, no, it’s okay! No need to rush him,” Yoo Hye In grins widely, offering a hand to him. “I’m Jang Won’s personal doctor, Yoo Hye In. You can call me Hye In.”

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH27

What are Marinette and Chloe going to do now that they’re in cahoots? Find out below~

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Chapter 27: Better Than Revenge

“I’m surprised to see you here, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe said as Jean Luke poured their tea.

Marinette averted her gaze the way Adrien always did when he came over. People with morals really were annoying.

“Lila’s gone too far. I can’t turn a blind eye and watch my friends get walked over,” she said. “This afternoon, she-”

“Look, I’ve already agreed to help you. I don’t need the whole sob story.” Chloe held up a hand.

“Where were you today anyway? I didn’t see you at the Louvre,” Marinette asked.

“I needed a spa day, so I conned Adrien into taking notes for me.” Chloe examined her perfectly manicured nails. “I see you’ve changed your mind about the status of those brats in your life.”

Marinette sighed. “They’re my friends, or at least, they were at one point. I hate seeing Lila blatantly manipulate them for her own selfish gain.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve got that much, how noble, now what are you thinking? I say we invite her onto a ‘game show’ only in reality it’s a trap we’ve set up where we’ll get a bunch of celebrities to diss her on live television.” Chloe took a sip with a wicked grin.

“Look, I’m agreeing to help you, but we need to set up some ground rules first,” Marinette said.

Chloe sat back with a groan, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine, what?”

“I want everyone to find out that she’s a liar, yes, but I don’t want to be needlessly cruel.” Chloe rolled her eyes, but Marinette continued, “We need to be smart about this, or else she’ll just play the victim.”

Chloe thought back to their previous failed attempts and pursed her lips. “Fine. Anything else?”

“Yes. Secondly, and most importantly, Adrien cannot find out that I’m helping you,” she said. The corners of Chloe’s lips twitched into a smirk. “I’m serious, Chloe. Don’t tell him.”

Chloe eyed her for a long moment, debating whether or not to say anything when another knock pounded on her door, and Jean Claude moved to answer it. She squared her shoulders, lifting her teacup to her lips with a sly grin.

“I won’t tell him.” She vowed as Jean Mark unlatched the lock. “You can tell him yourself.”

“Okay, Lila has gone too far this time. I’m ready to do things-” Adrien stormed into the room, stopping short when he laid eyes on Marinette, “-your way… Marinette?”

“Adrien?”

“What are you doing here?” They said in unison.

Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed, and he flicked his gaze between Marinette and Chloe.

“I was just-”

“Oh, save it you two!” Chloe interjected with a groan. “Adrien texted me earlier; Dupain-Cheng just showed up at my door, and now you’re both here for the same reason.”

“I know we promised to stay out of it, but Lila has gone too far.” Adrien flashed Marinette pathetic puppy eyes. “I’m sorry for going behind your back.”

“No, you’re right. Lila has to be stopped. That’s why I went behind your back too,” Marinette said. “Forgive me?”

“Of course!”

“Ugh, if you two start kissing, I’m gonna throw up,” Chloe moaned. “So, what’s the plan? I can get a crate addressed to the middle of the Amazon here in the next 20 minutes.”

“Ship her to Egypt for all I care!” Adrien threw his arms out in exasperation.

Chloe reached for her phone with an excited grin that deflated upon seeing Marinette’s contemplative frown.

“Don’t even try to convince us. It’s two against one unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“As fun as it would be, I’m pretty sure that’s highly illegal,” Marinette said pointedly.

“Buzzkill.” Chloe slumped, letting her phone fall back to her lap.

“We need to figure out a way to help everyone realize the truth and prevent her from ever lying again.” Marinette tapped her chin.

“Perfect. Do you want to call Jagged Stone, or should I?” Chloe picked up her phone again.

“You saw how well your interview with Ladybug went. Everyone knows I have an in with Jagged, so exposing her will only make us look like the bad guys for ganging up on her.” Marinette shook her head.

“Don’t you think she more than deserves it? After everything she’s done to you, Marinette, and especially after today with what happened.” Adrien winced. “Look, normally I’m with you, but Lila is evil. She can’t be saved.”

“No, but our friends can.” Marinette turned to face him. “Regardless of how obvious her lies are and how many times we’ve tried to tell them the truth, they’re being manipulated, and it’s going to break their hearts when they find out.”

Adrien held her gaze, pursing his lips, but after a moment, he nodded.

“Okay, you’re right.” He gestured for her to take the lead.

“What? You’re switching sides on me? Traitor!” Chloe shot forward with a gasp, though she shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Chloe, I’m not suggesting doing nothing, just doing something smarter,” Marinette said.  

“Like?” Chloe cocked a brow, and Marinette took a thoughtful sip of tea. She really hated how methodical Marinette could be.

“Well, I sort of have half an idea.” Marinette set the cup down. “You and Adrien have a lot of power and money as do a lot of my new friends, and today at lunch when they were talking about Christmas with royalty and charity trips I had a thought: What if we recreate all of Lila’s lies ourselves as truths for the whole world to see?”

“That way when news trickles down to the school they’ll realize that Lila never did any of those things.” Adrien finished, and Marinette nodded. “That’s genius! We’ll have all the proof, and Lila will be forced to admit that she lied without us ever having to confront her.”

“And we get to help people along the way and bring some good from this messy situation.” Marinette added.

“I always knew you were brilliant, mon ange.” Adrien lifted her hand to his lips, gaze soft and disgustingly affectionate. Chloe wanted to barf.

“I still prefer making her disappear, but I guess your idea could work too.” Chloe relented with a huff. Anything to get them out of her suite. She still couldn’t believe Adrien actually fell for her of all people. “It’s the most Marinette way you could have suggested. Always trying to make the world a better place, so annoying.”

“I’ll talk to my friends tomorrow at school and come up with a plan of action. It’s a lot of work, but I think this way Lila will have nowhere left to run. She’ll have to own up,” Marinette said.

“I’m behind you all the way.” Adrien gave her hand a squeeze.

Chloe stood up, clapping her hands. If she had to sit through any more of their cooing, she was going to break out in hives.

“Wonderful, now if you two don’t mind I’m late for a date with a hot stone massage.” She waved her arms in a ‘shoo’ motion, so Marinette and Adrien took their leave. “Jean Clarke, tell the cage guy to be ready on standby. Just in case.”

“Yes, mademoiselle.”

♪♫♪ Call It What You Want ♪♫♪

The slam of Chloe’s suite door echoed in the hall with a bang, and Marinette rubbed her temple with a sigh. Was one normal day so much to ask for? Marinette thought she was getting out of this mess when she changed schools, but somehow she kept getting dragged in deeper.

Adrien slipped his fingers into hers and tugged her toward the stairs. “I think you and I have a lot to talk about.”

He remained quiet for the first flight, lips screwed into a pensive frown. Should she speak first? What would she even say? They’d both gone behind each other’s backs to see Chloe, but they’d done it to protect each other. All she wanted was one perfect day with him, but it seemed that the closer they got to each other, the more complicated everything around them became. His silence ate at her as they rounded the second flight, but halfway down he finally spoke.

“I know you didn’t want to get involved with Lila, which is why I came here today. Even if Lila hadn’t pulled that stunt at the end, I’d already texted Chloe to start again.” He lowered his gaze to his feet. “You must be disappointed in me.”

“Adrien,” Marinette said, tightening her grip on his hand. “I came here without you too, ya know. Lila isn’t giving us the option to stay out of it anymore. She’s not going to stop unless we do something.”

“I know.” Adrien stopped and pulled her into his arms. “I just can’t stand to see you so broken and upset. Just when I started to think that things were going to be okay, she goes on the offensive again. Sometimes I feel like we’re never going to win.”

“We will. One day Lila won’t be able to touch us.” Marinette assured him.

He pulled back with a tortured frown. “That wasn’t how I wanted things to happen earlier. I didn’t want our first kiss to be so heavy. I was hoping that tonight… I planned something for us, but now I feel like everything is ruined.”

“You planned something?” Marinette quirked a brow, heart fluttering.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was hoping we could have dinner at my place and finally celebrate your designs for Clara. We could still go—if you want. Everything is set up.”

Marinette’s cheeks warmed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her prince was always looking out for her. She leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“I’d love to.”

♪♫♪ Fun Tonight ♪♫♪

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

Nino flicked his gaze over to Alya as she set a tray of juice on the desk. She crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed, and Nino buried his face in his knees.

“What did I do wrong? I was right there, she could have come to me,” he said.

“I never painted Ladybug as the type of person to take her anger out on other people, but I guess it’s true when they say no one’s perfect.” Alya remarked bitterly. “But if she wants to be that way then, who cares? We don’t need superpowers.”

“But having superpowers was awesome! Fighting crime with Ladybug and Chat Noir was totally legit!” Nino lifted his head with a frown.

“Well, what kind of hero is Ladybug if she turns her back on real heroes? If she puts hurt feelings over the safety of the city? We never gave her a reason not to trust us,” Alya said.

“You used to look up to her, Alya.” Nino sat back and looked her up and down. “Now you’ve deleted your blog, and you sound like you hate her.”

“Can you blame me? After how she treated Lila and now she’s taking it out on us?” Alya shook her head. “She’s not the person I thought she was.”

“Al…” Nino lowered his gaze. “I know you’re hurt, but I’m worried about you. You’re always stressed and exhausted and angry nowadays ever since…since you and Lila started hanging out more.”

“At least Lila hasn’t turned her back on me!” Alya snapped. She knew exactly what he omitted.

Ever since Marinette left.

Nino sighed, placing his hand over hers. “It’s been a long day. Let’s not fight, okay?”

“Sorry, I’m just all riled up from this afternoon.” Alya crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against his shoulder. “Lila says her ankle still hurts.”

“Do you really think Marinette pushed her?” Nino asked. “I mean, I know Marinette has been kind of a loose cannon lately, and their beef runs deep, but I’ve known Marinette a long time. She’s not the type to hurt someone.”

“She hurt me,” Alya mumbled.

“Don’t you think this feud has gone on long enough? There has to be some middle ground somewhere. I mean, I lost my best bud too,” Nino said. “I miss the way things were before all of this. Don’t you?”

“Nino…” Alya lowered her gaze, then nuzzled in closer. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Nino sighed, and Alya sat up, cupping his cheek. His eyes swirled with unease that only added to Alya’s reservoir of guilt, but he didn’t argue further. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her in.

“Then let’s not talk.”