#now you all know how long my process is (and why i get so angry when someone reposts my stuff acting like they made it)

[oddishblossom]

Hey I have a question? How do you produce such high-quality gifs. It's so cool and I've been trying but it usually just doesn't come out well

Thanks! I’ve been making gifs for about 2 years, so I’m by no means a pro. Sometimes it feels like I’m just throwing things at the video until it looks the way I want it to look.

I didn’t use any guides, so it took a lot of trial and error to learn. Just to compare, here’s the first gif I ever made!

My advice for starting to get into gif-making is, you gotta really choose a media or character you love because the process is time consuming and it can be frustrating if it doesn't end up the way you wanted right away. Plus, you’re gonna stare at the same picture for like a loooong time. Over time, I’ve gotten a lot faster at making sets. Like that killua x start over gifset only took me an hour to make, but I barely edited that one. I normally spend a few days on each set.

I still don’t completely get photoshop, so I don’t feel like I can give a tutorial for it. But I do make a lot of gifs on my phone so here’s a more in depth look at that.

For starters, I always get video footage in 1080P. Either download or record the footage you want to turn into gifs. I’m gonna use Killua as an example. Here’s a picture of what the clip looks like before I’ve done anything.

I find that the shorter the clip, the easier it is to make it smooth and crisp. This clip is only 5 seconds long. I try to keep my clips 5 seconds or shorter. I can do longer clips, but then I’d have to shorten the frames used and the speed of the gif (frames per second), which I don’t like doing. Next, I crop it. You want to crop before you start editing.

After that, I can start recoloring. There’s a couple good apps I like using for this. VideoDay and InShot are pretty good, but they’re pay to use. The free one Apple provides in the photos app is good, too. I’ve got a different coloring style for most of my sets. But I mainly focus on making dark colors darker, making colors more saturated so they pop, and brightening the video. On VideoDay & Inshot you can find this setting under Filter. Then go to Adjust. This is what it looks like after boosting up the contrast, saturation, brightness, shadows, and definition. Mess around with different settings until you come up with something you like.

Now, I recolor it a second time with filters. Sometimes I use Inshot or VideoDay, but I mostly use the app ImgPlay. ImgPlay is what I’ll be using to actually turn this video into a gif. I use different filters depending on what colors I want to stand out. CL2 and HW3 are a couple favorites. For this set I use HW3. Then I added more contrast, saturation, and sharpened it as high as it could go.

Now that it looks pretty, time to make it move smoothly. Through a lot of trial and error, I’ve found that these settings work okay. I have it set to 90 frames for this clip. For frames, I usually try to keep it within 80-90 frames (or 30-80 if it’s a shorter clip). If I push it past that, like say 100 frames, it’ll start to look blurry once I condense it.

For speed, I either use .04 seconds or .05 seconds. For frames per second, I always go with 20 FPS at least. This will push up the frame count, so you’ll need to make the clip shorter. You can do that by using the slide bar or that little area with 9 squares in the top right corner.

Now it’s time to export! Just click on save and GIF size. Set the loop to infinity and size to 10 MB. Tumblr has a limit on GIF size, so it needs to be 10MB or under. You can also click on GIF dithering to make the colors blend a bit more.

And we’re done! Hope it wasn’t too confusing and that I explained myself clearly! There’s a lot more cool effects you can do once you get the hang of video editing. This is by no means a strict guide or anything! Heck, even I don’t follow this exactly and I try changing things around, seeing what works and what doesn’t. Gif-making can be super fun, so I hope you keep at it! 😊💖

[shadowwfoxx]

Hurt

Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Logan takes care of you when you get hurt. fluff. Logan is a softie just for you.

You and Logan were supposed to have a romantic picnic date at the park. That plan was quickly ruined once you looked outside the window and saw dark and angry clouds surface the sky. Not too long after that, the thunderstorm had started. 

Since the weather was so shitty you and Logan decided to stay in, watch a movie, and have him spend the night. You also threw in that you would make him your famous pasta dish that he absolutely loved.

Your apartment felt extremely warm and cozy compared to the storm unfolding outside. You were in your kitchen stirring the pasta to ensure it didn’t burn at the bottom. Logan insisted on helping you but you didn’t allow him, telling him to sit and relax. He was on the couch nursing a beer while watching the football game, looking over his shoulder a few times to check on you. 

The blaring sound of the timer for the pasta went off. You turn off the timer before going to turn off the stovetop. You then grab your pasta strainer and place it in the sink. You grab the two handles of the pot, pick it up, and walk over to the sink to strain the water. 

Just as you were tilting the pot, a huge flash of lighting, followed by the loudest rumble of thunder you’ve ever heard struck. Startled, you swing your head to the side to look out your living room window, the trees outside swaying harshly. Your lights then flicker a few times, your TV shutting off in the process. You hear Logan curse under his breath. 

No longer focused on what you are doing, you tilt the pot full of boiling water further down without realizing it. A huge amount of hot water escapes the pot and comes into contact with the inside of your arm. 

“Fuck!” You hiss, immediately dropping the pot in the sink, making a loud bang when it drops. The pasta spills all at the bottom of it. You groan, and hold your other hand over the burn, trying to relieve the pain spreading throughout your arm. Tears now threatening to spill.

“What happened?” Logan asks, his voice rough and demanding. He is quick to be by your side, his hand warm on the small of your back. 

“I-I burned myself with the pasta water.” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut. Tears start to roll down your face. You were never someone to have such a good tolerance for pain. Logan rubs up and down your back soothingly.

“Let me have a look baby,” He says softly but firm, guiding you to face him. You slowly move your hand that was covering your burn, wincing at the pain. 

Logan holds your arm out, inspecting your wound. “You got yourself good huh bub.” All you do is sniffle.

He guides your arm to the sink, turning on the cold water and letting it pour on your burn. You hiss at the relief and pain it was providing you. 

“I know, I know.” He whispers. He kisses the top of your head while still holding your arm underneath the water. His other arm rubs up and down yours.

“Keep it under the water okay? I’m gonna get some bandages.” The warmth of his body disappears from behind you. You hear him rummage through the bathroom cabinet, groaning when random pill bottles fall on the floor. After a few minutes, you hear his footsteps behind you. He reaches from behind you to turn off the water. 

“Let me fix you up bub.” He grabs your hand, leading you to the couch. He sets his stuff down on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch. Logan puts a hand on your hip to guide you to sit across his lap. He cleans your burn and wraps it in a bandage. You don’t even notice how you’re still silently crying. 

“Why the tears princess? Hm?” Logan squeezes your thigh. You haven’t made eye contact with him yet, still upset. “Hey look at me.” His hands going under your chin. You finally meet his gaze.

“Cause everything is ruined.” Your bottom lip trembles. “Our picnic date, dinner, and now my stupid arm.” You let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry more. 

“Hey hey, nothing’s ruined. C’mere.” He turns you to straddle his lap. He wraps his muscular arms around your body for a hug, putting one hand on your head cradling it. “We still have that movie to watch. How ‘bout that?” His voice was low and raspy. You nod, looking at him.

He wipes your tears before giving you a peck on the lips. He gives your butt a light tap signalling you to stand up. You stand up as Logan moves to lie down on his side. You lie in front of him, his arm wrapping around you immediately to pull you close to his body. Maybe it wasn’t all ruined after all.

[keferon]

So the Mech AU is something and it's captured me too.

Set sometime after Prowl discovers Jazz is a pilot but before they go to Earth

———————————————————————

"Do they all look the same?"

Sat in a makeshift chair made from a tarp thrown over a spare tire, Jazz was in the middle of refueling from a small plastic baggie when Prowl broadly gestured to the inanimate body of his mech.

"The mechs? Naw, at least not the ones that last. I've had mine long enough that it's gotten all sorts of unique design changes and upgrades. There's no other mech that looks or moves just like mine."

The reassurance that Jazz's mech form was an individual creation was pleasing for some reason. Perhaps Prowl didn't like the idea of a dozen identical blank visors, the body of his friend replicated and filled with someone else.

"There's like. three or four classes of mech I think?" Jazz continued unaware of Prowl's secret anxiety.

"There's Rescue Class, those are the smallest, and they actually aren't built for fighting but for digging through rubble and cleaning up chunks of alien. Plus, sometimes those tentacle freaks have parasites that drop off when they die so the R-class kill 'em before they can become an invasive species."

"I thought you said they weren't designed for combat?"

Jazz finishes their fuel and shrugs.

"Its a war. Nobody gets out of fighting completely. Before I left I heard they were sticking a medic into- into fuckin' Vortex."

There were, many questions Prowl had concerning that last sentence. How desperate were the humans to be making their caregivers into soldiers? Why was this Vortex so infamous?

Why did Jazz sound angry at first, but by the time he got to saying "Vortex" the name came out as a rush of breath rather than a proper word?

What stopped him from pressing further on the topic was how Jazz seemed to shrink. And sink.

And stare at nothing at all.

It was so nauseatingly not Jazz that Prowl nudged the tire a bit and guided the conversation back to familiar territory.

"So what class are you?" Prowl said, while crossing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them. It was, very off model posture for the Praxian, but without the ability to pick up EM fields, exaggerated body language seemed to be the best way to get through to his human.

On a hunch, Prowl lightly waved his door-wings as well. Jazz smiled at them, and at him and Prowl preened with a modest smile back.

"I happen, to-just-so-be-the-Top-of-my-class-a-thank-you-veeery-much!" Jazz said popping each syllable like a song, resting his chin on his knuckles to match Prowls gaze.

"In terms of mech?" He nodded in its direction.

"I'm Striker Class baby, we're the fastest, the most agile and in my personal opinion the the most effective fighters in the whole program."

"And you do not personally feel as though you are an outlier bringing up the average?"

Mouth agape in mock shock, Jazz placed a hand over his spark- Flesh? Flesh-spark? Prowl deleted the line of thought and focused on the performance.

“I assure you Prowler, there are plenty of other Striker class pilots out there that do good for our name. I mean, there’s Blur for one thing. The guys basically the poster child of the whole program. Ridiculously fast mech. There’s also Hot Rod. His mech had the funny little quirk of CONSTANTLY CATCHING ON FIRE, buuut he turned it from a bug into a feature and now that’s just his thing.”

“Just his thing?!”

“Yup.”

“Being on fire?”

Jazz sat up straighter and pointed a finger at Prowl, “Look. I don’t know the full story and I shouldn’t be the one to tell it either, but trust me when I tell you this guy earned it.”

Leaning back, Prowl processed the new layers of insanity humans would apparently subject themselves to before filing it under “Bizarre conversations with Jazz” in his processor and carrying on.

“So what’s your special quality?”

“Me? I’m freakishly good at syncing up with my mech. Like, Blur is faster, but I’m smoother. Like, like that really is me. It just, I dunno, feels right. Fits me.”

Jazz looked over to his mech for a long time. Frowning at the fuel packet in his hands and solemnly crushing it into a ball.

“In terms of mech?” Jazz looked looked over to Prowl, smile returning with ease.

“I think I might be the only one that’s built for the stars.”

Their conversation continued into the evening like a leisurely dance. Discussing Pool Time, the war, cultural differences , the quintessons, their homes, what remained of them, and all the people they know and once knew.

Prowl never brought up Vortex again, though perhaps he should have.

__________________________________________

"What," Prowl choked out, his voice more static than sound. "Is that?"

The sky was green. The quintessions were in chunks. A mech, matte black with a blank visor, caaaarved into the body of the last living invader. A blade that massive was too big to keep a clean cutting edge, so the mech made up for the lack of delicacy with brute force.

It. It wasn't killing the damn thing. It was vivisecting the aliens spinal column from its body, each rib snapping off with a supersonic POP that shook Ratchets hangar and barely carried over the fucking awful sound of the thing screaming in terror.

Prowl would have never thought a Quintession could be a Victim before that moment.

Spine and brain case finally extracted, the mech lifted its prize to its opening vi- mouth.

That is its mouth. It's head was the size of his entire chassis. Inside, a stranger. Over bright eyes, straining and shaking against restraints within to get a better look at what was being held up to him. The mech moved without any input, tilting its helm back and cracking the skull to fill its open maw with cerebral fluid.

A funnel cloud touched down in the distance.

"That.? Jazz said, leaning against Prowls good side. “Is Vortex.”

TH A T. IS VORTEX

Man……I think Cybertronians would consider themselves big and scary compared to primitive earth life. And then meet Vortex. And then see Vortex in their nightmares for the next five million business years

Previous Next

[novemberheart]

{overview} Ammends are made

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, a/b/o dynamics, some threatening, slight emotional angst

Chapter 37 <- Chapter 38 -> Chapter 39

They are wearing you down. The near clawing and whining at the door, like two pups. Even John had given up trying to deter the two betas. John entered Simon’s room, heading straight past the man and towards the bathroom. They shared a bathroom, the other door leading directly into his room- your shared room. It wasn’t just his room anymore. He didn’t want it to be.

The door was unlocked, lucky for him. Your eyes narrowed at him, a growl dying in your throat.

“What do I have to do to make this better?”

It caught you off guard. The man with an answer to everything was unsure of how to approach this. Why didn’t he? He was your alpha. It was his job to know how to fix this.

“How do I remind you how much we love you?” He said just above a whisper. Your eyes welled, your throat constricting painfully.

“I’m mad at you,” was all you were able to get out.

“Sweet girl there was nothing we could do,” he rasped. He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers aching to grab a hold of you.

“I just think the timing is convenient,” you started. “I’m marked, then suddenly all of the gestures go away. Marked omegas leave their packs all the time you kno”-

“Don’t be cruel,” John chided. “Threatening to leave,” he spat to himself. “When are you going to stop looking for a reason to leave us before we leave you?” he questioned. Your breath caught in your throat, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“You’re worse than I am,” Simon spoke from the doorway. How long had he been there? “Remember when you marked me and you asked me to not run away from it?” he asked. “Remember?” he pressed after you didn't answer.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Well I'm asking the same of you,” his voice was firm- unwavering.

He headed towards the door unlocking it for the betas who charged in, nearly tripping over each other in the process. Kyle reached you first, the beta resting you against his chest. His scent was anxious while Johnny's was sad. It made you whimper, your heart twisting in your chest.

You couldn’t refuse anymore. Your stiff body relaxing between theirs, a soft purr rising in you at the sheer comfort they brought you.

This was deeper than the rest of your pack knew. The only people who knew its depths were you, Anais and Briggs. Maybe that was part of your resentment. You were scared. Scared of who was tracking you and scared of what your pack would do if they found out. Why would they want anything to do with you? You did nothing but cause problems.

Maybe you should just rip the bandaid off now.

You were already upset. The storm had already been unleashed. You were in the eye of it now.

What about Anais and Briggs? You couldn't get them in trouble.

But what if what Briggs said was true? What if your pack already knew about your visit. They had already known you went to the medical center. They were your alphas and it would be well within their rights to question the procedure that had been done. Why didn't they call you on it? Maybe they didn't want to deal with it. It was your problem- not theirs.

What would happen if you just came clean? Either way you would know where you stood within your pack. Either way you would have an answer to the question that had been eating you alive the past few days.

“I lied,” the words fell from your lips and landed against Kyle’s shoulder. He shuddered from under you. Johnny brushed the hair away from your face, the never ending ache in his chest flaring up again. “There was a wire in my leg- one meant for tracking. It was supposed to have dissolved by now, it hadn't, my body rejected it. That's why I went to the medical center. They removed it and sent it to a lab so I could see who it belonged to,” your words were shaky. You couldn't bear to look at any of them, your eyes trained on the headboard.

You waited for the vile scent of an angry pack. Yet it never came. It was like you were surrounded by statues. None of them breathing, moving or speaking.

“Not happy about you keeping it from us,” John broke the silence. “How long ago was it placed in you?” he asked.

“The doctor guessed eight-ish years ago,” you replied, holding your own breath.

“Just because we weren't with you then doesn't mean it isn't our concern,” John continued.

“Are you mad?” you asked suddenly.

“No,” he replied instantly. “I don't know- or want to know how long you were planning on hiding it from us. But you told us now, that's what matters.”

Where were you?

Why wasn't he bearing his teeth and charging towards the medical center for not informing anyone? Why wasn't Simon scolding you for not telling them as soon as they walked through the door? Why wasn't Johnny rolling up your pant leg to inspect the injury? Why wasn't Kyle already logged into a computer tracking the person down himself?

Why was everyone so calm?

“Let me see Bonnie,” Johnny murmured. Well at least one thing came true. You rolled up your pant leg, Johnny's fingers pulling the small band aid that covered your measly four stitches. “They'll need to be taken out soon,” he sighed, his lips connecting with your knee. “Hate you had to do this alone,” he growled, tucking you back against Kyle. Your heart warmed, the uneasiness beginning to settle.

“Me and John’ll go to the lab tomorrow. See if they've found anything on it,” Kyle added. That seemed more like it. The uneasiness flooded back when you remembered one little detail.

It was under Anais’ name. Not yours.

Think fast.

“It's under Anais’ name,” you explained. “I thought that would be a better idea just in case the person who placed it could still have access to it because it wasn't fully dissolved. If it was under my name there would be a record of it and they would know I know about it. If it was under her name they’d think it just dissolved and I know nothing about it,” you explained like the script had been written for you.

If they knew you were lying you think amongst their anger they would be secretly impressed.

“That's quite clever,” John muttered. “We’ll still have a look at it tomorrow,” he assured. “Don’t want you worrying about it anymore,” he insisted. “It’s on us now,” his large hand ran up and down your back, your skin erupting at his touch. You couldn't help but lean into it.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

You woke up to everything being right in the world.

The past few weeks left you exhausted and your sleeping schedule showed that. You woke up to your body being moved upright, your head lulling into a perfect spot against John’s shoulder.

“Time for lunch,” he murmured, his hands running up and down your sides. “You need some food in ‘ya,” he pressed, his lips firm against your forehead. You agreed, begrudgingly. Still half asleep as you untangle yourself from his lap, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes, just throwing one of his sweatshirts over top.

Price

Was painted across your back making the alpha more than pleased.

“Name fits you better than me,” he hummed, his hand traveling down your back. You peered up at him sleepily, a small smile on your lips. “Missed you, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips finding their home against your cheek. “And don't listen to any pesky thoughts in your head tellIng you otherwise,” he urged.

“Missed you too,” you whispered back. You nuzzled your way under his arm, the affection making the edge in his scent disappear.

Johnny had picked up breakfast for all of you. You were grateful you didn't have to go to the cafeteria.

“Bagel with strawberry cream cheese for the pretty lass,” Johnny smirked, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “And a fruit cup,” he added. You smiled widely. This is what you had missed. Being doted on. You don't care if it makes you spoiled.

Johnny finished assembling your bagel for you, a grateful purr leaving you and you quickly gripped his jaw pressing rapid kisses against his cheek. His cheeks raised from under you.

“Anytime, peaches,” he smirked.

“You have a kickboxing class today,” Simon spoke, passing you the parts of his bacon that ‘weren’t cooked enough.’ Truth was that Simon just liked burnt food. “Still up for it?”

As soon as Simon saw the sign up sheet for kickboxing he added you to the list- in fact- you were the first name on it.

You nodded your head, mumbling a small ‘yeah’ through your bacon. The rest of breakfast was nice. Domestic. Familiar. The energy was still a bit off, mostly due to Kyle and John. Something strange was happening, but you didn't have the energy to press.

“Let’s get you ready, pup,” Simon sighed, grabbing your empty plate from you.

Getting ready included Johnny helping you pick out and outfit and then helping you with your knotted hair.

Maybe you were spoiled…

“We have to tell her,” Kyle spoke as soon as the front door shut. John sighed, folding his arms over his chest. “It's the perfect time. We can play it off like we never knew,” he continued.

“Then what if she goes lookin’ for her?” John reminded. “Especially after all that's gone down between us all. She may feel more inclined to find a different pack,” John gruffed, already working on his fourth cigar of the day.

“Give her some credit,” Kyle sneered. “She won’t just up and leave us,” Kyle defended. “And she has every right to want to reconnect with her mother.”

“Her mother doesn't deserve her,” John shot back. “She already left her once. It's not like her mother doesn't know where she is. She has probably been tracking her till it disconnected. Leave it up to her mom to decide.”

“Her mother is probably scared. Could you imagine leaving her then wandering back into her life after years have passed? She probably assumes she never wants to see her again,” Kyle illustrated. John shook his head, his lips pressed in a tight line.

“That may be true. Then what happens if she does reconnect? What if her mother moved on, has her own pack and wants to take our girl away from us? Then what? What if she could provide her with the stability we can't?” John questioned.

“What if our girl finds out we hid it from her not only once, but twice? She’ll never forgive us and I- I can't live with that,” Kyle breathed, his throat tightening. “We have to let her decide,” Kyle affirmed. “Whatever happens, happens.”

“No,” John growled. “It's our job as her pack to protect her.” John ran a hand over his face, his eyes falling onto the kitchen counter. An idea popped into his head. A compromise. “What if we track down her mother?” John hummed. Kyle’s brows furrowed. “We are her pack. We reach out to her and ask if she even has any interest reconnecting with her daughter. If she does we’ll access her- make sure her intentions are pure. Then we bring it to our omega,” John explained.

Kyle’s shoulders felt lighter already, his back resting against the chair.

“That's not bad. We won’t necessarily be lying and we’ll be able to keep our girl out of harm's way,”

“So you agree?” John pressed. Kyle nodded slowly. “Atta boy,” He smiled, his hand clapping against the betas shoulder.

“She's a fierce little thing, isn't she?” Johnny smiled. Simon was flushed under his mask, his eyes not quite sure where to linger. You were doing very well in your new class. It was much more fun than you thought it would be- especially with all your pent up emotions.

“That one yours?” A man asked from next to the pair.

Johnny smiled wider, a bounce in his shoulders.

“Aye, she is as perfect as she look”- he cut himself off. His smile faded from his face as he stared down the man. Simon’s lips quirked beneath his mask at the sergeant's change in demeanor. “She is mine,” The Scot kept it short and not-so-sweet this time. “Which one is yours?” he asked.

“I don't have one. I just like to watch someti”-

He had no opportunity to finish the thought before Johnny had him by his scruff, escorting him out of the room. “Well, you chose to watch the wrong one cause I’ll scoop out your eyeballs if I catch you looking at her again,” Johnny growled against his ear. It was a bit cliche- but it got his point across.

“Where’s Johnny?” you panted, taking a small towel from Simon to dab your face with.

“Your beta had some issues to take care of. Should be back soon,” Simon said blankly. He rested a hand on the back of your head, guiding you out of the training room.

“Did I miss the finale?” Johnny questioned, hoisting you up to press a kiss against your sweaty cheek. You giggled your feet swinging to find the floor.

“Coach said she did decent,” Simon approved, downplaying your success. You rolled your eyes, nuzzling your way into the Scots side.

“I did really good,” you smiled.

“Course you did Bonbon,” he whispered back.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Ser you in four days for the next one! Lots of love 🧡

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 5)

Masterpost

It took a little convincing to get Jazz to come back with them, but she didn’t want to stay with Constantine because he ‘smelled like cigarettes and generational trauma’ and she couldn’t stay alone. So in the end she agreed to come back to Wayne manor with the promise that Tim would help walk her through the process of getting emancipated since he’d already done it before. Dick informed Agent A they’d be having another new person for dinner and asked Jazz if she had any allergies, which was also a no. Apparently the Fentons tended to be a very hearty family. 

They took the jet back, dropping Jazz off at the manor before parking in the batcave and changing into civics as quickly as they could so they could go greet her. Before they could Alfred sent a video on the family group chat. The video started with Danny pacing in the foye, then the door opened and Jazz hesitantly let herself in only to be greeted by a battering ram of Brother hurtling towards her. 

She managed to get her arms up in time to catch Danny with an Oof before they just clung to each other. Awww, why weren’t any of Dick’s siblings like that with him?! Something to bully them about later.

—----

“What happened?” Danny whispered against Jazz’s chest. 

“The Justice League finally stepped up and dealt with it. Locked the portal, took away mom and dad and Vlad, I don’t know what will happen with any of them but it’s not our fault whatever it is. It’s not our responsibility or our problem, I’m going to focus on university and you’re going to focus on keeping yourself and the babies healthy and safe.” She said softly, feeling Danny wince.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the babies, I just didn’t know how too,” Danny said, and Jazz could feel how he tensed, expecting her to be angry with him.

“It’s okay little brother, I understand. That was a lot to process, I’m sure you would have told me soon,” She murmured and he nodded. “Danny, did he… did he rape you?” Jasmine forced herself to ask softly. She didn’t think so, but she just needed to know.

“No, he stole my DNA and tried to clone me. But it didn’t work and Danielle and the other clones were melting. I don’t know how many he tried but I can’t imagine he started in batches of ten. I could only save two, Daniella and one of the boys. It was awful. I don’t know how long they’ll need to stay inside me to fully develop but they can take all the time they need. I can feel them inside me, I can feel their love. I love them too, they’re my babies Jazz, I know I’m young but…”

“You’re going to be a great parent Danny,” Jazz promised softly, giving him a gentle squeeze. “And I’m going to be the best aunt and babysitter you could ask for.”

She didn’t realize he was crying until his laugh came out audibly wet. “I’m sure you will. Thank you Jazz.”

“No problem Danny. What about the Wayne’s, you trust them? You think you’ll be okay here? I’ll going to Gotham U so I’ll be close. I’d like to work at Arkham anyway.”

“Ya, they seem good, I’ll be fine here Jazz. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you little brother,” Jazz said softly and Danny laughed again, trying to wipe his face as subtly as he could before he pulled back and finally let go.

Alfred cleared his throat delicately to remind them he was still there, though Jazz was glad he hadn’t interrupted their moment. “Dinner is ready when you are Master Danny, Miss Jazz,” he said with a nod and disappeared back down the hall towards the dining room.

“Well I’m starving, I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast!” Jazz said as she started to steer them both after Alfred.

“I’m pretty much always hungry,” Danny admitted with a chuckle. “The little ones take a lot of energy and I need to replace it somehow I goes,” He said touching his stomach in a way she now realized he’d been doing a lot. How had she missed that?

“Well you eat as much as you need to, and any cravings too. They probably have nutrients you and the baby need. You should see a doctor too. I know you probably went to see Frostbite already but you’re still half human and if they’re cloned from you so are the babies. Ask Bruce about a doctor that you can trust.”

“I will, I promise. You’re right, I really do want the babies to be okay and with what you said about the Justice League doing their job I have a feeling my existence won’t be illegal for much longer.” Walking into the dining room just in time for the family to overhear the last of that conversation. 

“Definitely not,” Bruce said firmly. “I know for a fact Martian Manhunter is absolutely furious hearing they did something like this to another sentient species just because they weren’t human.”

“You know Martian Manhunter!?” Danny said with literal stars in his eyes. 

“Oh here we go,” Jazz said with fond exasperation.

“Yes?” Bruce said, he hadn’t meant it like a question but he was just surprised, and a little worried, there was no way Danny would be prejudiced right?

“Oh my god can I meet him?! He’s been my favourite hero for ever! He’s from SPACE! I love space! I want to know everything he knows about space, and about Mars! I’ve never been to space! Well I’ve flown to the moon a couple of times but I couldn’t go further and be back in time for school.”

He had started floating off the ground as he enthused about space, with fond exasperation Jazz grabbed the back of Danny’s shirt and tugged him back down into a seat at the dining room table. It was like Peter Pan with the joy lifting him up, and his excitement was both adorable and infectious. It was so good to see him happy. 

While he was talking food had been being passed around, and Damian, who was sitting on Danny’s other side from Jazz, had been heaping his plate while the older boy was distracted. It was sweet to see him being… caring to another person, he was even putting some meat on Danny’s plate with an odd stubborn set to his jaw. He almost looked aggressive but that was really just his determined face. Damian had accepted Danny in record time, which was a little surprising but it also made sense, they all knew Damian really loved caring for people, and children, and with Danny carrying babies no doubt Damian was already staking his claim on the role of favoured uncle. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bruce promised with a little smile. He was sure J’onn would be happy to meet Danny so it wouldn’t actually be hard. 

“Thank you!” Danny cheered, only Jazz’s grip on his shirt keeping him from leaping back into the air. 

“Eat,” Damian reminded, shoving a fork into Danny’s open hand. “Pennyworth says you were too worried to eat much at lunch and you need the nutrients!”

“Aww thank you ghostling,” Danny cooed, roughling Damian’s hair who scowled and ducked away, but didn’t lash out At All! Huh apparently pregnancy was a shield against Damian’s aggression.

Danny did start to eat though, and to keep him on track the family started talking with each other. It seemed to make him more comfortable, if things were quiet he felt the need to fill the space instead of filling his mouth. It was honestly sort of nice, even Damian shared a bit more than he usually would have about school, and about his art, then started telling Danny in particular about his animals. Danny hadn’t met them yet after all and he needed to know everything! Which ones were friendly, how to appropriately handle any of them, what treats they could have. 

The way Danny lit up and started questioning Damian about his animals was honestly a little startling, but it couldn’t be more clear that he was genuinely enthusiastic and Damian was preening. Rarely did he get such an attentive listening ear when talking about his pets, especially since everyone who had been in the family for a while had heard similar rants so many times they’d started to tune them out. 

It was a testament to Damian’s self control that he insisted Danny finish his dinner before dragging him away from the table to go show him all the various animals he had collected over the years. Danny laughed as Damian tugged on him and waved back at the family, joking about being kidnapped again (which, worrying) but he didn’t seem to mind.

“It’s good to see someone with such a healthy and well supported obsession,” Jazz said with a little smile, watching after her little brother and Damian rush off. “Oh!” She said, snapping her fingers, “I should explain all that for you! If you’re going to take care of Danny you’ll need a crash course in Ghosts and Liminality. I uhh, I have a powerpoint?” She said, looking embarrassed and hopeful as she pulled a USB out of her pocket.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Miss. I’ll set up the projector in the family room,” Alfred said as he whisked the last of the dishes away. 

“Oh! Thank you Alfred. Can I help at all?” Jasmine asked, already getting up from the table so she could follow.

“Nonsense, you’re a guest and you had a very long day already. I’ll set it up, and then fix a room for you next Master Danny’s for tonight,” Alfred said briskly, shooing her back into the dining room room with the family. 

She looked like she was about to argue but she thought better of it. “Alfred is really the one in charge around here and we all know it,” Dick commented to her with a little smile. “No use arguing with him, and he usually knows best anyway.”

“Well, alright if you say so,” Jazz said with a little smile and tension slowly eased from her shoulders. When was the last time she got to relax? Having to worry about her brother and no one really taking care of the, how long had she been googling “how to stitch up a wound’, ‘how to help a 14 year old with ADHD study’, and various other things to try and care for a boy only two years younger than her. 

“So I know you mentioned to Nightwing that you wanted to go to Gotham U? I don’t know how your grades are,” (a lie, they knew she was a genius and her grades were excellent), “But the Wayne family sponsors many scholarships and if you don’t qualify for any of those we would be happy to just pay for your schooling. What would you like to study?” Bruce asked 

“I want to study psychology!” Jazz said, lighting up instantly. “That’s what I’ve wanted to study since I was seven. I want to be a psychologist, and I’d like to intern at Arkham. I know it’s a dangerous place, but I’m tougher than I look and I have Danny on speed dial so I’ll be fine.”

Well at least she had thought about the danger, and tougher then she looked meant something because she already looked plenty touch. “Well, I know Arkham can always use good doctors,” Bruce chuckled. “Just try not to become the next Harley Quinn,” He said it like a joke but he did mean it, the last thing Gotham needed was another evil genius. 

“Don’t worry, she lacked grounding connections due to her upbringing. I’ll have Danny, and his babies, and I’ll make friends outside of the hospital. As long as nothing happens to Danny I’m sure I’ll be fine, just like as long as nothing happens to me, or the other people he loves, Danny will be fine.”

It sounded like a warning, and it probably was, but they already knew that. Zatana had warned them that Danny could be dangerous. He would need grounding connections, but everyone did, and the Waynes already knew they were going to be family. On their own any of the Bat clan knew they could go off the deep end, a lot of them had even seen the futures with evil versions of themselves but with the other to care for and about, it kept them on the right track… at least mostly.

Next

[tommydarlings]

take what’s yours and leave | t.w

pairing: toto wolff x reader

warnings: none

w/c: 0.8k

summary: after having another one of your infamous arguments with toto, you can’t take it anymore and tell him to take what’s his and leave, but you didn’t think that he would take your order that serious.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

You were fighting with toto… again.

The two of you were fighting regularly, always raising voices and walking away from each other and then back into each others arms again, this time it was different though.

He rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up and scoffed after you finished scolding him like a child, rolling his eyes at your behaviour, “Y/n, my love-”

“Don’t 'my love' me now, toto! I told you so many times already that you should give me a call or send me a quick message if you have to stay longer at the office at Mercedes! But every single damn time you just 'forget it' and let me sit here at home all alone and annoyed!” You spat up at the tall austrian.

Toto sighed and put his hands on his hips as he looked down at your angry figure, “I know, I know and I’m s-”

“Yeah, yeah you’re sorry, I know… I’ve heard this words a lot from you lately, toto,” you shook your head with a scoff, taking a few steps back from him, “I’m fucking tired of it, toto, I really am… you’re a grown man and you can’t manage to save some hours of your day for me…that’s sad if you ask me,” you shrugged.

Your older boyfriend ran his hands over his face, brushing his shirt hair back in the process, “baby, I know how fed up you are, but-”

“Then why do you keep-”

“Let me finish my sentence for once, okay?” He raised his voice a bit, making you gulp and look at the floor before he continued,

“But work is also very important to me, which doesn’t mean that you’re not important to me! Or that you’re less important! But I have responsibilities, my love, lots of tiring responsibilities that I need to take care of,” he told you in a calmer tone.

You cleared your throat and looked back up at him, “Then don’t be in a relationship if you’re work is exhausting,” you said angrily, still not being able to calm down.

Toto rolled his eyes and briefly let his head hung low at your comment, “You’re lack of understanding my work life is really unbelievable, isn’t it?” He looked at you from across the kitchen.

You chuckled and bit your lip, “my lack of understanding your work life?” You shook your head, “oh you got some balls, baby! I think your lack of acknowledging our relationship and the fact that you have something — or actually, someone, besides your stupid work life is unbelievably! No, it’s embarrassing!” You raised your voice as well and kept eye contact with your tall boyfriend.

Toto bit his inner cheek and shook his head, looking at the wall with crossed arms before he took a deep breath, “Now you’re speechless, huh? Because you know I’m right,” you added quickly.

The former racing driver raised his head and looked at you, “You know what?” You swiftly walked over to the modern door of your million dollar mansion and opened it, “take what’s yours and leave!”

You were furious, your blood was more than just boiling, you were really sick of him.

Toto scoffed again and bit his lip before a smirk made its way onto his face, making you furrow your browns in confusion.

Before you could even say anything, toto took long and quick steps towards you and swiftly picked you up, throwing you carelessly over his broad shoulder in a swift motion, giving you no time to protest.

You gasped and placed your palms onto his muscular back, “Toto, no! Let me down, what are you doing?” You asked him as his big, veiny hands squeezed your thighs,

“I'm doing what you told me to do, I'm taking what’s mine,” he told you calmly with — most probably — a cheeky smirk on his lips, making you almost — but only almost — laugh.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before you let your head hung low, “Toto… you know that’s not what I meant, now let me down!” You continued protesting.

Your boyfriend only turned around and walked back to the kitchen, his big hand tightly holding the back of your thighs so you don’t fall.

He chuckled deeply, “what did you say, beautiful? I can’t hear you from back there,” the Austria joked wickedly, forcing you to roll your eyes once again.

“I said-”

But before you could repeat your sentence, toto swiftly threw your off of his broad shoulder and put you right in front of the countertop, making your back lean against it as he slowly placed bit of his palms on the countertop next to your hips, intimidatingly leaning in,

“What did you say? I’m sorry that I interrupted you, sweetheart… now you can go on,” he mumbled quietly, waiting for you to speak up.

But you only gulped as you looked io at him with big eyes, gently shaking your head, “N-No, everything’s fine,” you said softly.

“Are you sure, baby? Nothing you wanna say to me?” Toto continued whispering to you, leaning in a bit closer so that your nose was almost brushing his.

“N-Nope,” you replied almost nervously since he was so close.

He smirked before he took a step away from you again, “alright, if you say so, mein liebes,” my love.

[elsecrytt]

you fucking hate your job.

unfortunately, you also need it.

some old money family hires you to play housekeeper for their weird ass son. satoru gojo, you think.

he's handsome. just looking at him is a treat; stark white hair, bright blue eyes, a face like an actual idol.

and then he opens his mouth. illusion ruined.

whatever. you don't care that much about his "wow! you really didn't dress up for work, huh?" and "so, let me guess... no boyfriend?" you’ve dealt with worse.

you'd been excited when you got this job. you're broke. the pay is great. you're ready to do anything to not get fired.

you keep the apartment completely spotless, despite how many candy wrappers and packages he leaves around, the disaster that is his stupid fancy bathroom. 

seriously, who leaves soap and shampoo everywhere like that? who jerks off in the shower that often? throws towels around and knocks bottles and toothbrushes over? it's like he's trying to leave a mess.

you do his laundry, which he just leaves on the floor like a goddamn animal. there's some clothes with gross, crusty white on them.

one time, you'd caught him staring at you while you picked it up, smirking all the while.

this is the guy you’re being paid to look after. and you’re fucking trying! god, do you ever try!

you cook meals from scratch, hours-long, intensive processes. you check his fridge, shamelessly dig through his garbage to see what he likes and try to make things he'll enjoy.

he leaves empty boxes of takeout on the counter, your homemade dinner in the trash, untouched.

it's in your contract. you can't not cook for him. and you can't eat anything, either, not when you're terrified of getting fired and he obviously likes to make you miserable.

and your landlord just informed you last month - rent will be going up. and not by a small amount.

you'd just finished digging yourself out of one hole and life kicks you right back down.

you don't know how you're going to make rent this month. fuck, you don't even know what you're going to have for dinner. if you can afford dinner. if you can even afford to put the heat on tonight.

it's not even a question. obviously the answer is no.

sitting on the plush, luxury couch in gojo’s apartment, you bury your head in your hands, and cry.

maybe you can get another job? but there's only so many hours in the day. you're so fucking sick of working all the time. you already do.

is it too much to ask for life to cut you a fucking break?

"what's wrong?" your least favorite voice interrupts - and a hand on your shoulder, shaking you, none-too-gently.

"don't tell me..." there's that smugness, "are you cryin'?"

"sorry, i just need a minute." you say, swallowing your anger to look him in the eyes. "i just got some bad news. my landlord is raising the rent next month."

"oh?" his tone is only getting worse, "so what? just move out. or get some roommates, or whatever you poor people do."

god, the fucking mouth on this man.

"soooo? sounds like poor planning on your part," satoru says, casually leaning onto the edge of the couch, "i just don't get why you're crying about it. like, that's kinda pathetic, you know?" he snickers -

SLAP

dead silence. a sting on your hand. satoru's face bent to the side. you don't even regret it. not right now, as angry as you are.

"you-" a rant is just about to spring from your lips, and then -

satoru grabs your hands, pulling them into his, right in front of his face.

his cheeks are dusted red. pretty eyes wide and dilated, fixed on you. mouth twisted in a grin.

you glance down to the front of his pants, where a noticeable bulge has formed.

"do it again."

[moonstruckme]

hii! I was wondering if you could write something about James meeting reader for the first time when he finds her crying at a party or something? and just takes the time to comfort her and get to know her?

Idk that idea just came to me and I think it’s so sweet and adorable 😭🙏🏼

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You thought you came in here to be alone, but it’s just like a boy to come and ruin your plans. And just like James Potter to be drawn to the sound of your weeping like a superhero towards sirens. 

“Hello?” You cover your mouth with a hand as the bedroom door creaks open. “Is someone in here?” 

You recognize the voice even robbed of its usual levity, cautiously softened for your benefit. Your stilted breaths continue puffing out of your nose despite your attempts to be quiet, and James’ footsteps come closer to your hiding spot. 

“Hey,” he says, crouching in front of you, “you alright?” 

“Mm-hm,” you hum pitchily. Your shoulders shake silently as tears continue gushing out of you. 

James’ forehead creases. “What’s wrong, love?” 

Your bottom lip wobbles at his concern, but you stay strong. “Nothing.” You wipe your cheek with the butt of your palm. “M’fine.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear.” He offers you a smile. The effect, you know, is dizzying when you’re sober, so you’re not too frightened when it works the same now. “Would you like a tissue?” 

You nod, and James reaches for the nightstand behind you. He pulls open the top drawer, one hand protecting your head from bumping into it, and procures a box of tissues. You take it from him, holding it in your lap. 

“How did you know where to find that?” 

“This is my best mate’s room,” he says. “Sirius. I’m James, by the way.” 

You blow your nose. “I know. I know who Sirius is, too.” 

“Yeah?” James grins. You fold the tissue and start wiping under your eyes. It does nothing to erase the mascara tracks already running down to your chin, but James doesn’t think telling you that will help anything. “He’ll be happy to hear that. I know you, too, though I don’t think we’ve had the chance to speak before.” 

“Sorry,” you say, patting the floor beside you for your drink. James subtly moves it beneath the bed. “I’m usually better to be around, I think.” 

“I don’t know,” he replies, “I’m having a good time hanging out with you.” 

You snort. “You must have a low bar.” 

James’ eyebrows raise, surprised mingled with amusement. “Can I ask you something?” 

You’re feeling for your drink again, not having processed its absence. “Um, sure.” 

“How’d you end up in here?” 

Immediately, your doleful mood returns. “Kayla’s mad at me.” 

“Kayla Chapman?” James tries to catch your gaze again as you nod at the floor. “Why’s that, darling?” 

“Sh—she—” Your lip wobbles again. When you don’t take a new tissue yourself James does it for you, pressing it into your hand. “We were together, and she was talking to this guy, and then she just disappeared,” you say while blowing your nose. “And she’d been drinking, so I was worried, you know?” 

You look to James for approval, and he nods. 

“Right, you didn’t want her to get taken advantage of.” 

“Exactly! So I had to look for her forever, I was totally panicking, and when I found her I tried to ask if she was okay and she said—” your voice cracks “—I embarrassed her. She was s—so angry with me.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” James’ hand lands on your shoulder as you hunch over your lap. He rubs it consolingly. “I’m sure she’ll feel differently tomorrow. You were only trying to look out for her.” 

“She won’t,” you cry, having long forgotten your reservations about doing so in front of James Potter. “And she was the only person I knew here, so now I’m all alone.” 

“Well, that’s not true, is it?” He continues rubbing your shoulder steadily, as if comforting drunk girls at parties is something he does every night. It might be, you don’t know. “You know me.” 

You sniffle. “I meant my only friend.” 

“What, you don’t think of us as friends?” James sounds appalled. “I’m wounded, sweetheart. I thought we were getting in some quality bonding here.” 

You miss the humor in his voice completely, looking up at him through still-glossy eyes. “Are we friends?” 

“I’d like to be.” 

“Why?” 

James' expression does something funny. “Do you ask everyone who wants to be your friend that?” You tilt your head, unsure how to answer, but he goes on. “I like you. You try to keep your friends from being assaulted and you’re clearly conscious of your use of paper products—” You follow his gaze as he glances pointedly at the two tissues you’ve been folding to use over and over again “—what other qualities does a person need?” 

Your lips quirk just a little. James’ smile blooms all over again for seeing it. “You’re really nice,” you tell him. “I mean, I knew you were, s’what everyone says, but it’s still good in person.” 

A little laugh sputters out of him, but James doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. 

“I’m tiresome,” you warn him gravely. “You’ll get sick of me.” 

“I know we’ve only just met,” he replies, still smiling in that always-sunny way of his, “but I don’t really see that happening. I’ll be sure to let you know if it does.” He regards you for a moment. Your face is a mostly dried-up watershed of makeup and snot, collecting to a point around your chin, but James is happy to note no fresh tears seem prepared to spill. “Would it make you feel any better if we cleaned your face up a bit?” 

You blink and touch your fingertips to your face, brow scrunching when they come away sooty. “Oh,” you say. “That would be nice.” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

James takes your drink with him, grateful you don’t seem to notice as he dumps what remains in Sirius’ sink and tosses the cup in the bin. When he returns with a washcloth dampened with warm water, you’ve leaned your head against the side of the mattress and are staring into the middle distance. You still look heart-wrenchingly sad. James wonders if your friend is anywhere near as inebriated as you, and whether she realized that by leaving with that guy she was leaving you like this. Whether it was really you who needed to be looking out for her or the other way around. 

“Back.” His voice comes out quieter than he intends, reduced to nearly a whisper at the sight of your pensive state, but your eyes lift to his anyway. You raise your head as one corner of your mouth tilts upwards. It’s a greeting and, in James’ opinion, a decided improvement. 

He squats in front of you, palming one side of your face. “Close your eyes.” 

James has always made fun of Sirius for his “angsty towels,” but he sees their true purpose now; your makeup hardly shows on the dark material. He swipes it over your skin gently, extra careful around your eyes. 

“This is really nice of you,” you say. James decides not to let you know you’ve already expressed this sentiment. “This is, like, best friend level of niceness.” 

“Best friend,” he repeats, delighted. “Well, if I’d known I was going for the promotion, I would’ve gone above and beyond. Lavender oils on the washcloth and everything.” 

“Mm, you earned it on your own, though.” 

James grins. Your eyes are closed, but you’re smiling too.

[neo-nomatrix]

Drunk words are sober thoughts

Hobie Brown x reader

Part three of the My Nuisance mini series. Find the other parts here

word count: 959

Synopsis: Hobie forgets everything he told you last night. Thank you @good-so for the inspo!!

When you woke up Hobie was gone. You were surprised you didn’t hear his obnoxious boot buckles clicking when he left. In fact you were surprised he left at all. He basically confessed his love and the fact he was Spiderman to you last night.

You needed time to process everything, make sure none of it was a fever dream. As soon as you woke up (and gathered your thoughts) you trudged over to Hobies flat. You knocked on the door similar to how Hobie always did, part of you was angry that he had left you but you would rather die than let him know he got to you.

“Hobie? You in there?!” You yell pressing your ear against the door.

As you lean into the door it opens up, he had left the door unlocked and didn’t even fully close it. You stepped into the rather dark flat and admired the decorations. He had a way of making everything look like a punk rock magazine, despite the chaos it was cleaner than you had anticipated. You searched throughout the flat trying to find him but it was clear he wasn’t there.

Eventually you came across a small box decorated with photos of the London bridge and bright colors. You didn’t mean to snoop around, really, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Inside were five things: three letters, a ring, and a necklace. You had recognized the ring and necklace, they were yours. You had lost both of them by mistake about a week ago but assumed they were long gone. As you thought about it more you realized something like that happened often, you would lose something of yours and a week later they would up outside of your door with a note attached to it.

Usually saying “You’re quite clumsy, love - Hobie”

It hadn’t occurred to you why he had found so many of your things until now.

You looked at one of the letters, and sure enough it said “You just keep losing stuff don’t you? Good thing i’m here to save the day -Hobie” You smile to yourself thinking about the fact that he would probably give you this tomorrow.

The second letter was from you. The first time you had ever told him to turn down his music. As you read it you realized how much you had changed from the first time you met him. You were so polite in the letter, the fact you had taped a letter to his door instead of screaming at him was polite in itself. After that first letter you don’t think you have ever said “please” and “thank you.” From then on it was mostly you stomping over to his flat and yelling while he stood there amused.

The last letter was addressed to you. And it was double sided, either this boy has a lot of baggage or he was really in love with you. You felt awful reading it though. You started at the first words for a while “For my Love,” until the lights switched on.

“You’re breaking into my house now? That’s cheeky init?” He smirked. God he is so stupid, and what British person actually says init?

“The door was open. I was… just checking to see no one like a robber had broken in,” you replied.

“Right, and you also wanted to make sure that box wasn’t broken into?” he replied.

You immediately set it down.

“I haven’t read any of it, promise,” you smiled

“Yet, you haven't read any of it yet,” he finished for you.

“So, about last night?” you bring up. Hoping he’ll want to talk about it.

“Right… uhm, i don’t really remember any of it? So whatever i said don’t pay any attention. I’m a compulsive liar when I get wasted,” he shrugs.

Oh. He didn’t remember anything he said. And he’s also a dunk liar. Cute. You were still slightly convinced he’s spiderman, though. He showed you the suit and the mask, which weren’t exactly replicas to your knowledge. And trust, you knew your spiderman suit replicas. But the other stuff?

The stuff about you hurting his feelings and him being in love with you? Yeah, you were almost one hundred percent sure those were lies. You don’t know why you were convinced with one but not the other. You just did.

“Yeah, of course,” you looked sad.

“But I should get going,” you said after a moment of silence.

“Right, we’ll uhm, see you,” he said.

You nodded before looking down at the ground, walking off without being able to look into his eyes.

You shut the door to your flat faster than you ever have before.

“Oh my lord,” you whispered to yourself.

Gods, if that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You didn’t even know what you were thinking, you had to be mental, right? Going into Hobies flat while he wasn’t around? And he caught you? You could never show your face again.

While you’re in your flat panicking your mind out, Hobie is filled with anxiety. He’s racking his brain trying to remember what happened last night and why he woke up in your bed. Did he say something horrible? Did he confess his deepest secrets to you? The answer was yes, but he didn’t know that yet. He only left early because Miguel had pinged his watch with some stupid mission.

“The fate of the multiverse is at stake,” or something like that.

He knew he had to talk to you again. Picking up the box he pulled out the ring. Admiring the way it glimmered in the fluorescent lights.

Throwing away the note that came with it, he knew exactly how to start a conversation.

Taglist!! @clown420cunt @good-so @anonima-2 @gh0stsp1d3r @miracleboylene @natthernandez @frenchbaddie @loislucky @juo6uvr @gaychaosgremlin @skiedrr @the-golden-goldie @hellok1ttycake @theleftkittycollection @xbl00dy-r0s3x @diamondroxypie

[macabr3-barbi3]

CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes

Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Your new boss seemed stressed. 

Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.

You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 

Right over his head. 

He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 

He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 

“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”

“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”

God, but you wanted to be.

He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”

His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”

“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”

Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.

You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.

“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.

The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.

You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.

He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.

You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.

You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”

You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”

He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”

“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”

“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”

You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.

“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.

A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”

“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”

You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”

He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.

You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”

You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 

After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.

Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 

There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”

This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”

“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.

You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.

“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”

One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”

“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.

His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.

“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”

“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.

“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?

He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.

“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.

Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.

“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.

With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 

“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 

“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.

“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“

Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 

It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.

“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”

He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“

“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”

“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”

The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.

[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. three (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 16.5k (dear god).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, this chapter is truly them being cute and barely fighting which is ???, healthy competition i think, they get a serious case of the silly goose at some point, mentions of drinking at some point, gyuri being an overprotective friend, meeting new people, emotional talk involving kids yall will see why, pet names (princess), descriptions of female and male anatomy, first kisses!! *the crowd cheers*, a little bit of dry humping... *the crowd boos* and unresolved feelings!!!! *the crowd AND y/n leave in angry tears*.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's part three of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. so, so sorry it took so long but i had a bit of a writer's block these past months :(. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of this series and the rest of the stories of this universe on my masterist! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 5th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part two.

There's this image of you that flashes across Yunho’s mind. 

It happened right before he fell asleep last night, too, and he's having a hard time figuring out if he only dreamed it or if it actually happened. 

The skin on your back glistening, the cut of the dress after he pulled down the zipper just enough to not be disrespectful. 

He did it out of instinct, out of the sudden familiarity he felt between you both. He did it because, before he had the genius idea of helping you with your dress (to get it off in some way, what the fuck is wrong with him), you were really close to his face and he couldn't think straight for the remainder of the time he was in your presence. 

There was a time in his life where the mere thought of you brought discomfort to him. It kinda brings discomfort to him now, too, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's dull, it's confusing and it's angering at the same time because, if he was sure of something before, it was the fact that he never really wanted to be near you. 

You were the bane of his existence when you two were kids, something that was forced on him the second your parents wanted and he despises the lack of control and freedom he's always had around you. 

And now there's a flash of you genuinely laughing at him for blushing after the old lady from last night gave him some not-so-innocent compliments in front of everyone. There's a flash of you defending him when you really didn't need to, even if you stated otherwise. 

There's a flash of you wiping the corners of your mouth after finishing the food he made you, a visage that completely besots him. 

He never really wanted to kiss you. 

Only once, at your graduation party, but that was drunk him and playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven really did a number on his teenage hormones at the time. 

He remembers the bottle landing on the girl next to you and the guy next to you and the guy next to the guy next to you. Yunho kissed them all with the hope of kissing you at some point that night. Just because he was curious, because deep inside of him he knew your parents plans all along. 

He didn't get to do it, though, and so it didn't really matter; the wish died as soon as he woke up the next day with a huge hangover and a dry mouth. Yesterday, he thought the same would happen if he went to sleep and dreamed about anything but you. 

That, of course, didn't happen. 

Now he’s just left trying to figure out what the fuck is going on exactly as the memory of your lips and the sting of annoyance that follows the thought of him wanting you in any way other than fifty feet apart distracts him from whatever his friends are saying right now. 

“He lost his fucking mind,” Gyuri stands in front of him, hands on her hips and furrowed brows like a mother who’s scolding her troubled child. She collapses on the couch behind her a second later, next to her best friend who’s giggling at her and her reaction “He’s not even answering to me.” 

They called for an emergency meeting at San and Wooyoung’s place, as expected. He was supposed to see them on saturday anyway but now he gave the friend group a reason to hang out a day earlier. Seonghwa did too, but his story, apparently, is more interesting than the oldest sudden girlfriend. 

In a way, they both got out of nowhere partners. But the friend group is hanging out a day earlier than expected so he’s not really sure why he’s being reprimanded for something so out of his control. 

They don't know this is out of his control. Maybe that's why. 

Wooyoung takes a sit in front of him, on top of the wooden table separating the space between the tv and the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, like a father who’s trying to be on his side of things without offending his wife “Care to explain yourself, Yunho?” 

He decides to play pretend so he doesn’t have to think about it more than he needs to “Explain what?” 

As Gyuri gasps, Woo shakes his head before dramatically hanging it low.  

“God help you, my dear friend.” 

Gyuri gets up again and Wooyoung gets up as well, stepping aside so he can give space to her to regard poor little him with the angriest look ever directed at an innocent man.

He thanks Mingi for opening the front door of the apartment right at that moment. 

Behind him, Mingi’s girlfriend, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow suit. San is in the kitchen finishing the dishes and Jongho is at school, taking a quiz or something, he thinks. 

He didn’t really read the group chat like that. They just requested his presence and he spawned in the apartment half an hour later.

But he didn't take into account that he was seeing Mingi that day too. Mingi, his best friend for a few years now, the only person he should've actually told what was going to happen yesterday night. 

He fucked up. 

“Can you let the man explain himself, Gyuri?” Mingi asks, down on one knee and helping his girl take off her shoes. Yunho wants to roll his eyes but Mingi is, after all, head over heels for her. 

How is he going to explain to them that he’s not head over heels over his new, sudden girlfriend? That, in fact, he thought he despised her until yesterday. 

And that now he’s not able to shake her from his thoughts even if he desperately wants to. 

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks and Gyuri turns and points at him. 

“We’re talking to you after we talk to him.” She makes a show of her threat, her pointed finger moving to Yunho’s forehead and slightly pushing him back on his seat. 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch, next to San’s girlfriend “Oh, my God.” 

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with a tiny smile “She’s freaking out today.” 

Wooyoung turns the tv on. His laptop is connected to it through a long, orange cord and when Yunho turns to the screen, it shows a picture of him and you with plastic smiles that look too real. 

If only people knew. 

“This is what’s going on,” he says, pointing to the image and then leaning into his laptop to click a new tab “The Jeong and Kim empires merge into one after their youngest announce they’re in a relationship at yesterday’s twenty year celebratory gala,” reading directly from the article, Yunho manages to cringe at the wording of it before Wooyoung turns to him “Since when, bitch?” 

Yunho opens his mouth to reply but both Yeosang and Seonghwa make a surprised noise. 

“Oh?”

“Isn’t she…?” Yeosang looks at him “Is she?”

He nods and Yeosang claps, mumbling a I knew it under his breath. 

“So that’s what she meant when she told me I looked familiar, she knows you!”  Seonghwa smiles a little and then his expression turns into a frown, like he just realized something he shouldn't “When did you start dating her?”

“Well, actually—”

“And didn’t tell us?” Mingi’s girlfriend looks very offended but he can tell she’s half joking, especially when Mingi smirks a little and then joins her with a pout. 

His best friend looks at him a second too long, though and that lets him know he might be a little offended. 

Mingi opens his mouth to speak but a choir of voices stops him from doing so and Yunho breathes out his regret for even showing up and for not explaining everything to Mingi first. 

“What do they mean ‘merge their empires’. Are you getting married?” 

“When did you even meet her?”

“Through his family, I suppose.” 

“Are you getting married?” 

“So did you cheat on her like two months ago with that girl from the bar?” 

“No, no, he didn’t hook up with the girl, that was Hongjoong.” 

“Sure I did,” he says and gives Yunho a look, like he doesn’t remember who they’re talking about “Yuyu, can I be the main groomsman?” Hoonjong asks as San returns with a snack plate on his hand and he takes it from him when he offers it, putting some chips on his mouth immediately “Hwa, too. We're the oldest, so.” 

Mingi scoffs “And I’m literally his best friend, don’t even try it.” 

“That’s literally me, oh my God? Liar?” 

Yunho is starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of noise he normally would contribute to. 

Right now? He wants everyone to shut up while he finds a way of explaining everything and not sound completely insane in the process. 

It’s quite the normal concept, he thinks. Arranged matrimonies are a thing in a lot of cultures and in his it’s more subtle than anything, not quite what it used to be, but they’re still there especially for families like his. 

He’s not getting married, he should also clarify that. But as Mingi takes hold of Wooyoung’s laptop and scrolls through the article and then turns to him asking for an explanation with his eyes instead of his words, all the coherent sentences he just put together in his mind die on his tongue. 

Mingi is not really one to pry, but his stare tells him that he’s a little bit concerned with everything. After all, he’s the only one who understands the full complicated history Yunho has with his family. 

“Guys,” he says, all mischievousness wiped out of his face “let him explain and don’t interrupt.” 

The noise quiets down and everyone looks at him, expectant and curious. Now that he’s able to untense his shoulders and take a calming breath, he also notices a few concerned stares that join Mingi in the sentiment. 

Alright. Okay. He can do this. 

Yunho sends his best friend a thankful smile before gulping down his nerves. 

“That’s Kim Y/N,” he points at the tv screen, although half of your face is cut off because Mingi scrolled down to read “I’ve known her since we were kids, her parents and my parents are really good friends and her dad helped my dad launch his company, so we were… They were celebrating that yesterday.” 

Everyone nods and then he catches Seonghwa’s eye “My brother and her brother are very good friends, too. You know Soohyun hyung, don’t you?” 

“Oh,” he seems taken by surprise by that “he’s a new client.” 

“I figured,” Yunho smiles, “He’s a good guy, just a little…” 

“Carefree?” Hwa offers. 

“Mhm. Anyways,” he shakes his head, trying to get back on track “Jeong Tech made a huge mistake a few months ago and so they decided to announce our relationship yesterday to kind of… Everyone loves Y/N,” he says quickly “She’s… We—” 

“Are you two together or not?” Wooyoung asks, clearly confused and when everyone shushes him he mutters his apologies. 

Yunho wants to answer him with the truth. He really does and it’s right there, ready to come out, but he thinks about you. About everything you told him yesterday, about how you actually seemed to care to please your parents.

He thinks about his own mother’s threats. 

And he knows it’s a little stupid wondering if someone in this room would tell, but he hesitates. 

It hurts him to hesitate but then someone speaks up. There, curled around San’s arm and peeling open an orange, his savior speaks up.

“Relationship of convenience,” she says softly and matter of factly, turning heads in her direction “What? I could’ve told you this two hours ago,” she points at Gyuri and Wooyoung “But you refused to explain! Come on, everybody,” giggling, she offers a freshly peeled slice to her boyfriend. “I work with books for a living, you work with books for a living!” She points at Woo again, “This trope is classic,” and then she looks back at him with a kind and honest smile. “You two do look good together, though. Are you friends, at least?” 

He hesitates. You both definitely, sort of, made amends last night. But it's a little weird and, suddenly, also hard to explain. 

Yunho thought the word friends would've just rolled out of his tongue naturally, as a little white lie to ease everyone's worries. Now, it hardly makes its way onto it so he just nods after a long pause that definitely raises suspicion on everyone's face. 

“We've known each other for a very long time, went to highschool together and everything,” that seems to eradicate some of the doubts, because San grins and turns to his girlfriend with a knowing smile that she returns. 

Gyuri is not as convinced “But are you friends?” 

“Yes,” he returns immediately after that, wanting the conversation to be over. He’s not lying, not really, not after what you both said yesterday “We are, we’re trying to be.” 

“So you hate the bitch. Got it.” Gyuri nods. 

Yunho takes offense to that, oddly enough. Because no, he doesn't hate you, not a little, not at all. 

He thinks. 

Besides, he confirmed yesterday that you're not much of a bitch and it hurts that Gyuri thinks you are one, but San’s girlfriend it's already handling that before he has the opportunity to defend you like you defended him. 

“Babe, don't call her that.” 

Gyuri raises her hands defensively “I'm just taking preventive action! What if she is a bitch?” 

“She's not.” Yunho says and they both turn their heads to him, Gyuri with a frown and her best friend with a knowing smile. 

What does she know that he doesn't? Beats him. 

Instead, he settles “She's just… Well, she's—” 

“Intense?” Gyuri offers. 

Wooyoung shakes his head and points to his ex “No, that's you.” 

For once, he's glad their bickering interrupts him because he doesn't really know how to describe you. What's his current opinion on you? He has no clue. It's weird, he hates it a bit, but the feeling is there and the words are on the verge of spilling out of his mouth.

San’s girlfriend gasps and then murmurs an excited: “I love enemies to lovers!”

“I don't think real people can fit into fictional tropes, babe,” Gyuri returns, taking a slice she's offering in her direction before eyeing Yunho “Or can they?” 

That he can answer “We're not enemies and we're definitely not lovers.” He says with a shrug. 

“You're something way worse then,” San’s girlfriend nods and then smiles in excitement “Can't wait!” 

“For what?” Yunho asks in a whisper but Mingi, thankfully, interrupts. 

“Why are they talking about marriage, then?” He asks, his concern is palpable and Yunho feels kind of bad. He feels really bad, actually. 

He could have told him this, at least. He could have talked about you, but the truth is that his mind avoided remembering you if not necessary; that’s how much you two seemed to hate each other.

Now? 

It’s kind of complicated not to think about you when you’re plaguing his mind, infecting it like a virus. 

Or painting it, like the canvases he saw in your room yesterday. 

Do you paint? Is that something you like to do in your free time? 

Why does he feel like he knows very little about you, all of the sudden? 

He groans and then shakes his head. 

“There’s no marriage, they’re getting ahead of themselves,” he clarifies. 

“Is there going to be a marriage?” 

There's movement on the screen now and he sees Mingi’s girlfriend scrolling unapologetically through the article. She's watching a video of the both of you posing together for a picture and there's something that pulls inside of him. His eyes attempt to water but he manages to keep his emotions down, locked up because there's a lot of feelings he won't put on his friends. 

He's sure they think of him as a dumb puppy who's actually very academically smart, just a little clumsy with his social interactions. He's been pretending he is, anyway. 

The only one who really sees through him is Mingi but even him, to some degree, has bought his immature act. And to some extent it became real for Yunho himself, too, so deep fears and sad emotions are off the table. 

So he pulls himself together and turns to his friend.

“I think she has an escape plan if our parents decide to marry us off to each other,” he admits, snorting out a laugh that’s a little bitter but more amused than anything, he shakes his head “So no, no engagement, no marriage.” 

“Why, what's wrong with you?” Gyuri asks, eyes squinted with prejudice and suspicion “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Well, that's not… Gyuri,” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say to his friend's question, so he looks at Mingi with begging eyes “That's not really the point, right?” 

“Don't look at me, she's right,” Mingi shrugs, “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“Because we're not in love!” 

Wooyoung scoffs “And yet you're a perfectly fine and rich young man, so why wouldn't she want to marry you?” 

“So we officially hate her, right?” Gyuri says and claps her hands before standing up again for the millionth time and heading his way. Her hands fall on his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to see her from below “Okay, then! What's the plan? Do we get rid of her?” 

“No!” 

“I could, if that's what you want.”

His head snaps at Hongjoong at the suggestion, disbelief writing on his face “I love you guys but the Yunho protection squad needs to dissolve right now, everything’s fine!” 

“Is it?” Mingi asks and Yunho takes his time to look at his best friend before nodding. 

“It is. We're supposed to break up eventually anyway,” air leaves his lungs in a long sigh and then he gulps a little, not really sure how to say what he wants to say without offending anyone. And Gyuri's hands are still on him, so the pressure doubles at the potential threat of physical harm that his next statement can get him. “Listen, I won't make any of you sign nda’s or anything like that because I trust you but please, please don't tell anyone this.” 

He looks around the room and sees wide eyes before they turn understanding and when his friends nod in agreement, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. 

Literally, Gyuri moves to sit next to Wooyoung who tries to put an arm around her and fails. 

“You're not that famous, Yunho,” Hongjoong kisses his teeth and the mood shifts into the lighthearted one he's used to “Unlike me. I'm a celebrity among my peers.” 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes “Yeah, because all the criminals turned music students turn guitarists of a nugu rock band worship you.” 

Hongjoong ignores him but his smile is tense and his eyes are squinted in fake joy when he speaks again “You are going to the gig tomorrow, right?” 

He laughs “Of course. I might be a little late but I'll get to see your set.” 

Hongjoong frowns “Why?” 

“I have a schedule now, so…” 

“Oh, my God,” San’s girlfriend squeaks, typing something in her phone and Yunho catches his friend fondly following with his eyes the sentences she's putting together “And what else do you have to do now?” 

“Babe, I hope you're not writing a story about this.” Gyuri warns but her friend ignores her and turns to Seonghwa. 

Who realizes right away what she's doing, gaping at her and her betrayal with feign hurt. Yunho gets it a second later and his lips curve upwards a little. 

“And what did you do to get a girlfriend so fast? It was the motorcycle, wasn't it?” 

Wooyoung gasps and Gyuri seems to remember suddenly that there were two important subjects to dissect on the table today, so she gets up again with her hands on her hips and stares at him like a distressed mother.

“What the hell were you thinking, Park Seonghwa? Girlfriend? You met her yesterday!” 

“Three days ago, but yes, maybe—” 

“Oh, three days ago! That's an eternity in dog years, right? Are you a dog, Seonghwa?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes practically meet the back of his head and Yunho has to stifle a laugh “Not a dog, Gyuri, just a guy.” 

She pauses and then makes a face. 

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense.” 

“We made the mistake of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend way too soon. But, to be fair, his text messages woke us up,” Seonghwa's finger is pointing to Yunho and he pouts as a response “Kind of, so we were sleepy and—”

“Sure, let's hang out tonight so you can meet my girlfriend,” Hongjoong reads directly from his phone and shakes his head. Yunho can't actually tell if he's offended or not “Not even a warning first.”

“I literally told you about her and you told me to go for it.” 

“Did I?” 

“Yeosang was there.” 

At the mention of his name, Yeosang looks up from his phone and smiles shyly at the oldest two “Correct.”

There's a bit of silence and then Hwa clears his throat softly. 

“She's going to be my girlfriend though,” he says, almost in a whisper but everyone hears him “So I don't know what the big deal is.” 

Wooyoung slumps from the couch to the ground with his eyes closed in defeat “Oh, dear God.” 

“The big deal is that—” 

Gyuri's voice fades to the background and he catches Hwa telling her that she's not his mother or something before tuning the discussion out. 

When he turns to his left, Mingi is still eyeing him to make sure he's okay. Yunho nods and smiles and then offers his hand to him, which he takes. 

Mingi's girlfriend turned off the laptop and is watching the interaction with a tiny contempt curve to her lips and, when Yunho catches a glimpse at San’s girlfriend from behind his friends built form (she's completely hiding behind him from all the chaos Gyuri is bringing to the living room), she catches his eye and then blinks one of hers in complicity. 

Again, Yunho wonders what she knows that he doesn't. 

But with the attention off of him, your face returns to his head.

So he's not really able to concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the hang out. When he finally, finally has his mind occupied by something else (San dared him to beat him at Mario Kart and Jongho brought food and drinks as an apology for completing his academic duties instead of showing up to the meeting), a text pops up from an unknown number. 

+82-5-059-6733: Hey. Added your number  from that stupid group chat our brothers made because telling each other things through our assistants makes me physically ill, hope you don't mind.  +82-5-059-6733: Actually, I don't really care if you mind. If you block me, I'll find another phone to text you on. +82-5-059-6733: Anyway, I'll send you the address of where we're going fashionably late tonight. It's an early drive so you're free to skip this (Do skip it please).  +82-5-059-6733: Jeong Yunho, do not ignore me or I swear to God…

He hates that, after reading his home screen, he has a smile on his lips. You sound both formal and pushy through text, too and he didn't think it was possible to have so much personality that it filters through writing as well. He's finding out new things about you and, although he made it a point to ask you to get along yesterday, it still feels really weird to do so.

When he turns to the screen again, he's down a few spots and San’s character speeds besides his in its kart. 

“Is it her?” San asks, looking at him for a second, a knowing smile on his lips. 

“It is but I'm not smiling because it's her,” he defends himself but there's a tint to his cheeks that might give him away. San laughs “Shut up. Your girlfriend’s schemes are rubbing on you.” 

At the mention, he catches through the corner of his eye as his friend turns to the mentioned girl and Yunho smiles again before he hears him sigh, completely and utterly in love. 

“Thank God.” 

He recovers on the game while San is distracted, passing him and winning the race. The sound of it ending makes San snap his head back and watch as Yunho relaxes on the couch in egotistical victory. 

“Ugh.” 

The sun is shining through the clouds even though it was supposed to rain again. There's a singular gray one moving ominously among the other ones and threatening to mess up what you planned for the day. 

It suspiciously moves past you and into the city when Yunho's car pulls up the hill. By the time he gets down, the sun is shining in full force and you roll your eyes when he regards you and your closed arms with a wink. 

What does he gain out of this? You've been wondering since that night if coming here is better than staying at home for the weekend. 

He could stay at his dorm, though. Is that an option? The curiosity you feel towards him now has completely taken over. It feels disgusting. 

Either way, you hate that he actually showed up. That means someone, somewhere around you, is going to casually document the thing you kept to yourself for a long time. No because it's a secret but because there's no real need for anyone to know that you do this. 

Your presence on social media is scarce, you have one open account that you use every six months (if you remember to use it at all) and the one you stalk people of your circle on. You have a twitter account that's private and not under your real name, a youtube account that doesn't really count as social media in your eyes and nothing else. 

No one needs to know you do these sorts of things. Then, you wouldn't be doing it out of the kindness of your heart but to get sympathy points. Even though you'll always do it because you want to and not because you have to. 

There's a lot of things you have to do, like your relationship with Yunho, but never this. 

You know it's only like five out of one hundred people who wish you ill but those few people are enough to tarnish the affection the kids have for you, the trust you worked so hard to gain the few years you've been trying to make this orphanage somewhat quality-of-life acceptable. 

You stumbled upon it one of those drunk early mornings where you had to walk around to get the alcohol out of your system before even daring showing up home or near it. Not because your family didn't know what you were up to, but because of the possible photographers roaming around the house. 

A drunk underage daughter was worse than anything back then. Maybe it is now, too, but you remembered the mistake you made the first time you got drunk and the absolute reaping your mother gave you. 

So when you locked eyes with a middle aged woman in the middle of nowhere after walking around half an hour before in heels, your almost-sober self pretended to be lost just to talk to someone and feel safe. The sun was barely showing that day and you were cold and sad and angry for not controlling yourself at the party and it must've shown in your face because you saw the woman taking a deep breath before offering you to step inside. 

At that hour, the kids were asleep. There were traces of them everywhere, though and you remember the way your heart sank at the lifeness of the space even in the still hours of the morning. 

It looked lived in, enjoyable and cozy. You never had that. Toys were put back in their place the second you got distracted by the tv or a book or when your mother said that was enough playing around for the day. Your room was always neat and tidy, put together and devoid of any evidence that you were real. 

That has changed a little now, but back then seeing something you didn't have struck something within you. There was obviously no way you would complain about it out loud, though. 

You had everything solved, your struggle has always been insignificant when compared with everyone else outside of your circle. It's fine, it's always been fine and the tears brought to your eyes when the middle aged woman put a hand on your shoulder and consoled you when she saw the environment was affecting you meant nothing. 

You tried to convince yourself they meant nothing and tried to keep your heart where it belonged: inside of your tinsel bubble, frozen and harsh so that no one takes advantage of you.

And then she managed to melt the ice not even five minutes into explaining what it was that they did there. She said her position wasn't permanent, that the district kept changing directors and that the quality of life they were able to give to the kids was acceptable at best. Not good, not what they deserved. 

Maybe that was the first time you took advantage of your privilege for something good. Because next thing you knew, you were putting together a presentation and pressing your father to do something about the home. 

Your mother was scandalized but she agreed to do something with your ideas if your brother was put on the front of the newspapers, inaugurating the renovations made to the place. 

Saturdays have been destined to the orphanage since then. They know not to put anything else on your schedule for the day, they know not to film you or send photographers per your request. Because your brother was already seen making the good deed a few years ago, so there's not really a way to take advantage of this anymore. 

Besides, the district still manages it and no amount of volunteering can help the fact that its administration and the decisions that they make are as dumb as you believing for a second that Yunho was going to take your advice and stay home today.

Yunho being here changes things, you know it does. Why did they put this in his new schedule if not? You thought it was a punishment for him but now you're not so sure. 

There's lack of movement, lack of press, lack of your mother's touch to it so you wonder what's the angle here. And, as usual, Yunho seems to be in the dark about the things plaguing your mind. 

You point at his outfit in retaliation when he gets near you and your mother’s assistant, who became yours for the day. 

“Is this what you could put together with such a long notice?” 

“You said casual.” 

“And this is your casual?” 

At some point these past few days, and after seeing all the pictures of you two together at the gala, you came to terms with Yunho’s attractiveness. Objectively, he's a handsome guy. His dad was handsome at one point, his mom is absolutely breathtaking and his brother is handsome as well. They're just a family of naturally physically gifted people, alright? 

But it is kind of unfair that he can look this good in flared jeans and a white fitted shirt, for fucks sake. He looks like he just got out of a Calvin Klein shoot… If the shoot was somehow made in the seventies. The black belt and the black boots with a tiny platform he's wearing add to the whole look and your eye twitches a little. 

He looks really fucking cool, actually but there's no way in hell you would ever accept that. Handsome? Sure. Cool? Your mind is tricking you somehow. 

It's that warmth that invaded your body when he made you food a few nights ago making you think nonsense. You want to desperately get rid of it. 

He scoffs but a tiny smile tugs at his lips when he looks you up and down “Is this yours?” 

Looking down at your wide leg trousers, your kitty heels and your short sleeved cotton top, you fail to see where the problem is. 

“Duh.” 

He whistles, low and for a few seconds and for a moment you think he's doing it because of you and your heart beats erratically until you realize his eyes are fixed on the orphanage.

You smile a little. 

These past few years you've been able to get funding and provide funding to it, so the renovations just keep coming and coming. It doesn't look like the one you found refuge on that morning a few years ago at all and it definitely doesn't look like the one your brother had the chance to be photographed with either. 

Right now, it has a little bit of your touch: It looks like an elegant structure, but a building that's also suitable for children to be in. It has a playground vibe to it, the exterior and the design of the new entrance you approved a few months ago only solidifies it.

The kids love it. You didn't exactly run the design through them but it would've shown if they didn't. 

They're very expressive, but decisive too. Bossy, even. You look at Yunho and you want to smile fully because he simply doesn't know what he got himself into. 

That proves to be true as the hours go by. The kids raise their eyebrows when they meet him, say hi to him with a bow and then turn to you for explanations. When you say that this is a new friend that's going to be helping out that day, you don't miss the way Yunho lights up a bit besides you. 

And then that light is completely stolen by hour three, you see it as he chases kids around the yard. It hurts that they acclimated so fast to him but, again, when you got there the first time the place wasn't really one where they felt completely safe. 

This proves that you helped change that. Good. 

There's a few of them, the older ones, that sit on the ground and stare daggers at Yunho like he's going to hurt the younger kids at any moment. These kids were practically toddlers when you met them and they had a hard time being around you when you started to show up regularly. 

They barely spoke a word and, when they did, they yelled at you for not playing with the toys like you were supposed to, or because you looked too clean and too pretty to be messing with paint or something of the sort. 

It took months for you to build that trust and now the oldest is a tween with shaggy hair and a scowl on his face because he thinks of Yunho the same way he thought of you when he was just a kid.  

He barely notices when you crouch next to him, the hand you put on his shoulder making him jump slightly. 

“I understand the feeling of wanting to punch Yunho in the face,” you start, smiling and then tilting your head a little “but you're going to burn a hole on his back if you keep staring at him like that, Hyunjoon.”  

“Then why did you bring him here?” His frown deepens and you shrug “We were just fine with everything here and now there's a stranger playing tag with my little brother,” he shakes his head “I don't like it.” 

Sighing and then turning to Yunho, you see the exact moment his attempts to escape Haejoon, Hyunjoon’s little brother, are sabotaged by Hyunjoon’s best friend, Soyi. 

“I think you're a little jealous.” 

“What?” 

You want to laugh when his head snaps at you, chest heaving in preteen anger at the word jealous. 

“Yeah, not because he's playing with Haejoon but because Soyi is there too,” you shrug again, readjusting your crouching position because it hurts your legs but there's no way you're sitting on the ground “You like her, Yunho is handsome and you're jealous.” 

He turns away from you and you laugh when he makes a disgusted face that then turns into mild discomfort and ends up being a full pout.

“We're fighting.” 

“You and Soyi?” He nods and you sigh “What is it now?” 

“I dunno.” He murmurs with a shrug. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I don't know what I did! Okay?”

There's this uncharacteristically amount of patience you have when it comes to these kids that don't run out even if they yell at you and cause a few heads to turn your way. It never really bothers you except today, when you know there's possibly someone monitoring your movements. 

Yunho’s assistant, most likely. You know yours is compliant and doesn't really give a fuck about what goes on here, her focus on her tablet the whole time, probably arranging things for her actual boss (your mom). 

“Have you asked her?” He shakes his head “Then maybe start by asking her, later today if you want,” you rush to clarify when you see him tense up at the idea “Or tomorrow or the next day but don't let silly things get in the way of your friendship with her, hm?” 

His pout returns and his eyes start to water a little but before you have the opportunity to make him laugh the sadness away, someone jogs towards you both. 

“Everything alright?” 

Yunho’s sweating, he's out of breath and squinting his eyes because of the sunlight and it reminds you of when you used to cross paths during recess, back in highschool. 

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Hyunjoon sulks and scoffs at him and, once again, you suppress your laughter. 

“We're fine. Did you need something?” 

“No, no, Soyi just asked me to—” He stops when Hyunjoon's reaction gives away the root of his sulking and you see him glance at you once. You don't give Hyunjoon secrets away, though. “She asked me to tell you that she's going to start counting in two minutes and you are both obligated to play.” 

“Ah, yes, the mandatory hide and seek of the day.” You nod and watch as Hyunjoon's eyebrows raise in interest “Tell her it's okay, that she can start counting now.” 

Yunho raises his eyebrows as well, curiosity on his face “And you're hiding too?” 

“It's mandatory, Yunho. Do you know what mandatory means?” 

He clicks his tongue “I obviously do, Y/N, it was a simple question. Do you have to—” 

“Don't speak to her like that, ahjussi!” 

Once again, Yunho is interrupted by Hyunjoon and this time you can't help but laugh at the pure shock on his face. It warms your heart that a kid that was once so reluctant to have you around is defending you and you think your expression might give the feeling away because Yunho says nothing in return, just nods once and then presses his lips together, fighting a smile “I'll go tell her, then.” 

“No!” Hyunjoon gets up quickly and you do too, your legs and feet thanking you “I'll do it, she's my best friend.” 

It's the threatening (and very cute) look Hyunjoon sends in Yunho’s direction before sprinting towards Soyi and his brother that breaks the both of you into giggles. 

Only when your laughter dies down is that you turn to Yunho, arms crossed as you look him up and down to assess the real damage caused these first few hours.

No other reason. 

“Thought you said these kids were tough.” 

You shrug and he smiles “They are but you came here with me, so they're going easy on you.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Yunho nods and then turns over his shoulder. You do too, only to find Soyi with her hands over her eyes and counting already “Better don't get caught first, Kim.”  

Walking towards the spot you usually hide in when it's mandatory hide and seek time, you bump your arm with his in not-so-fake animosity. 

“You better not get caught, Jeong.” 

“Is that a dare?” He yells when you're almost out of reach. 

“I don't know,” you yell back “Is it?” 

You miss the way his eyes follow you until you're out of frame, until some kid whose name he doesn't remember grabs his hand and pushes him to hide because he stood in place long enough to almost get caught first. 

You do get caught in the first round but not before Yunho, so you count that as a win. The second round is trickier, Soyi banning some hiding spots like the natural leader she is, and so you get caught before Yunho. He does a little celebratory dance when he sees you in the yard before him. Ass. 

There's only one round left before they call everyone to clean up for lunch. 

Moving through the orphanage halls, you walk down the stairs that lead to the staff rooms before choosing one you know kids would not check if they don't caught you in plain sight: It's the one that has some panel windows on top of some lockers, to bring in some natural lighting because it was used as a classroom before.

Now, only boxes and dust live down there. But if you hide in the corner, there's no way you're getting caught before Yunho. 

You checked when you were upstairs. 

You giggle to yourself as you rest your back against the corner, taking your phone and unlocking it to find something to do while you await your very predictable victory in this pointless battle you and Yunho have going on. 

Only for it to be crushed when he enters the room and closes the door behind it. See, you obviously didn't lock it because that defeats the rules of the game. 

But maybe you should've. 

“Get out.” 

He seems startled when he hears your voice, clearly not expecting another soul to be there. “You blend so well into the wall, Y/N.” 

You don't bite the bait “Yunho, you're going to get both of us caught. Get. Out.” 

“How? I literally fit in here, too.” 

He gets into your space, a petty smile on his lips until your backside is completely flat against the wall.

You let out an indignant laugh and a breath at the same time because, from where you're shoved into the corner, he looks so dumb. 

And then the sunlight shifts a little and lands on his shoulder and you get reminded: You're going to get caught and it's going to be his fault. 

You want to yell at him to get out again but then hear laughter near the panel windows, so you whisper-shout instead “Find your own hiding spot, Yunho!” 

“I got kicked out of my last one!” He whispers-shouts back. 

“Well you can't have this one either!”

“We're going to be fine, Y/N,” he tries but at your scowl he laughs again “I'm perfectly hidden here and I'm hiding you.” 

“You're not perfectly hidden, idiot! You're like…” You move your hands, trying to replicate the broadness of his shoulders “You're huge.” 

“Yeah?” He seems pleased by your words and your eyes rolls on their own accord “I've been hitting the gym, so I'm glad it's showi—” 

“I don't care, get out!” 

You hear a scream and then laughter that follows it outside of the windows and your wide eyes peek around a little behind Yunho’s form to see what's going on. 

There, rolling on the grass and laughing hard, are Hyunjoon and Soyi. You see when she pushes him further into the ground and away from her, smiling like she usually does. She did seem a little sad today and you wondered why without intruding.

Learning about the fight made things click in your head and so now you're smiling wide because they potentially made up. 

The sound of someone gulping is what brings you back to reality and you crane your head up to catch Yunho staring at you with parted lips and soft eyes. Somewhere in the process of looking out of the panels, you ended up leaning into him and bracing yourself with your hand on his arm. 

You quickly keep your hands to yourself again, pushing your body into the corner one more time. 

“Sorry,” you say right away “I was just… They like each other and they were fighting today so I'm glad they, um…” You trail off. 

“Are not fighting anymore?” Yunho says for you and you're nodding frantically before you can help it “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” that catches you off guard and he notices, “It's never… It's never really as bad as what you saw a few days ago. You don't have to ask me about it.” 

“I didn't mean to… I was pointing it out to say that you seem different here.” 

“Different how?” 

“Relaxed,” he says right away with a shrug. “Less… Hostile.” 

You get what he's trying to imply. 

“I can't really be a stuck up bitch when I'm surrounded by children, Yunho.” 

“Never said you were one.”

Your eyes squint “But you were thinking it.” 

He doesn't back down at your accusation “I swear I wasn't. You could see it, too, if you stopped being so… defensive.” 

“I'm trying,” you kind of speak over him as he is finishing his sentence, your arms crossing in, well, defense “but your fugly jeans are provoking me.” 

This time around, he's the one that doesn't bite the bait. He smiles, leaning into your space with purpose this time; not because the corner you're both hiding in is small, not because he forgets who you both are. You can see it in his eyes that he means to do it. It's scary.

It's really not scary at all and it brings thoughts to your head that you need to put away immediately. 

You pretend it's bothering you, creasing your brows in order to bring to your expression the usual disgust you feel for him. 

“You like my outfit, I saw you checking me out earlier.” He murmurs like it's the most obvious thing ever. You, on the other hand, think you did a great job in concealing your staring for the day.

“I was judging you, not checking you out. You look like a hippie.”

He smiles but doesn't lean back at all “I have something to do tonight.” 

“So I heard,” and now you look over his outfit on purpose, as well “This fit is definitely a choice.” 

The usual spark that the arguments you two are used to have is there, but the actual nastiness and loathing of it all is mostly gone. Now, there's this weird pull that nudges you forward, your jaw set softly as you wait for his response. 

“It's a rock concert, I have to look the part.” 

You laugh and then nod “And so you dressed up as a greaser. Got it.” 

“So I look like John Travolta in Grease?” 

“More like Barry Pearl.” 

He scoffs “Who even is that?” 

“Exactly.” 

Your smile is nothing but pure bliss at the way you seem to get under his skin with that one. The anger crosses his expression, his eyes widen a little before roaming your face and you wait for his comeback. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

But it never comes. Instead, he leans in a fraction more than what your sanity can handle and keeps his voice low when he changes the subject.

“I had the opportunity to speak to Jiwoo earlier…” He starts and you nod, expectant and a little distracted by the smell of his cologne. “She told me everything you've been doing for this place. I had to ask her because you didn't tell me.” 

“You didn't ask.” 

“Would you have told me if I did?” 

It takes a second and a tiny smile, but you shake your head and he clicks his tongue. 

“See?” 

“I wasn't expecting you to show up in the first place,” you murmur back in your defense, sincerely, “and I'm not used to people seeing this part of my life.” 

Laughter and hurried steps outside remind you that you're in the middle of a game, in the middle of a dare with Yunho, too. But it doesn't seem to matter anymore. 

This is a weird way of having a genuine conversation, an odd place to have it in as well but there's nothing conventional about your relationship with Yunho. 

In a way, it's kind of fitting for you two. 

“Well, you got great reviews.” 

“Do I?” 

“Mhm, Jiwoo said she was about to be sent away when you stepped in,” he starts to recall, nodding to himself “Soyi also said she met you when she was little and that you were there when Hyunjoon and his brother got here for the first time,” this time, you nod and a tiny smile tugs at your lips at the memory “And I saw the way you were looking at the kids earlier, how you spoke to them… That's why I told you that you seem different here.” 

It's your turn to gulp and blink a few times, trying to measure your words. You know that you and him came to an agreement the other night, but it's still a little hard to be fully honest with someone you've tried to be so superficial and distant for a very long time. 

“I'm happy here,” you whisper back, taking in a breath. “I'm happy when I'm helping, it makes me feel…” You trail off, failing to find the right words. 

“Purposeful?” Yunho offers and your heart beats loudly at that, your stomach sinks at how accurate that is and he can see it in your expression, because he takes in a breath himself and closes his eyes for a millisecond “I understand.” 

You want to ask him how he understands it. Is it simply because it's something easy to grasp? Is it because he relates in some way? The breach in between you became a simple line the night of the gala and that line blurs the longer you stay amicable with him. 

It's dangerous because you can already picture him going away when this whole charade ends. 

You don't want to get used to the feeling of him making your heart beat this way. 

And hopefully you can forget all about it with the usual meal related anxiety you feel but even that is dull. It's not as bad here and Yunho knows so it's not going to be as bad with him either. Fucking great. 

If you someone would just interrupt yo— 

There's a knocking, persistent and that allows you to step away from him finally and glance at the panel windows one more time. 

Soyi and Hyunjoon are lying on their stomach, smiling knowingly like they understand what is going on in your head. Yunho steps out and they pretend to be surprised but you can tell they were expecting to see him here. 

“The game finished like five minutes ago.” Hyunjoon says and it's muffled by the glass but you can make it out just fine. 

Soyi nods and joins in, adding something as she stands up “Yeah, it's lunch time and if you don't hurry I'm stealing your food!”

At that, Yunho seems to react like he's a child himself “Don't even think about it!” He yells back, heading for the door and leaving you there with an erratic heartbeat and questions. 

Thirty seconds pass before you hear him again, his laugh this time and you close your eyes because the curve of your lips needs to go away before you step out there as well. 

Three more hours pass and at some point you don't see Yunho at all, letting him do his thing. 

Turns out, he's actually very good with kids. Considering he was a weird kid himself, you don't even find it weird that he's sitting on the grass with a worm in his hand and kids circling him like he's giving a masterclass. 

Kind of like they were circling you fifteen minutes ago, when you gave them a little painting advice. You started on a small canvas and your paint strokes look tired, probably because you feel that way, but you use it to pass the time even if their interest is now elsewhere. 

They have art classes here, you insisted on including them in their pensum as something mandatory, like science and maths. 

They enjoy it. A few of them want to pursue art in the future and that makes you really happy, even if you probably won't be around to see it or if they change their opinions along the way because, as dumb as it sounds, you were never encouraged by anyone to pursue what you liked. 

Maybe, sometimes that's enough. Planting the seed to wait and see if it grows into something fructiferous in the future can be what some of these kids need. 

Aside from resources and opportunities, of course. 

There's less activity in the room you're in and you're sure it's because the kids are tired. They're taking naps in their rooms, they're washing up for the night and you're dreading leaving this place. Your shirt it's dirty, there's paint on your arms and dirt under your nails and you don't want to catch the disgusted look your mother is going to give you when you get home. 

You fuck up the painting a little bit. Lost in thought, you barely notice when Yunho makes his way inside from the garden, a little girl secured around his neck like he's her father or something. You barely spare him a glance, but smile at her when he sits down besides you and she opens her arms and clings to you instead. 

Leaving the brush and canvas forgotten on the table, you make space for the seven year old in your lap “Hi, gorgeous.” you smile at her and her sleepy eyes “Did you have fun today, Jaemi?” And at her name, she punches you softly in the arm with her little fist. 

You're afraid she's too tired to commit to the bit. 

“Jaemi,” Yunho nods beside you and you look at him, “she didn't want to tell me her name.” 

“Then that's totally not her name,” you correct yourself and Jaemi smiles, sticking her tongue out to Yunho afterwards “Did you have fun?” You insist. 

“Yes, he was teaching us something about…” she pouts in concentration, trying to remember “Crickets?” she offers with her little lisp, turning to Yunho to confirm her words. 

“Cicadas.” 

“Yeah, that.” She turns to you, nodding “He said that they sing when it's about to rain and that made me happy but then he said that they also sing when they're about to die and that made me sad.” 

Looking at Yunho, you let him know with your expression that that's not something kids need to know. He just shrugs, smile growing when he sees how Jaemi hides on your neck, sleepy and comfortable. 

“And I told him what you told me about the worms,” she murmurs there and you pat her back, softly, but trying to tell her to stop talking. There's an embarrassed glow on your cheeks at what she says next “and he told me that he was the one who taught you that.” 

Eyes wide, you huff out a laugh and then clear your throat, but Jaemi speaks through her pout before you defend yourself “Is he your boyfriend?” 

“Oh,” her question is not weird but you've been avoiding answering it all day. Right now, there's not really a way you can evade it, so you just focus on your painting and nod “He is.” 

“He's smart,” she mumbles and when your eyes land on Yunho again, his cheek is pressed to his forearm that is pressed against the table. He's looking at you both with stars in his eyes and you want to kick him under the table “Like you. I want my future mom and dad to be like you.” 

Yunho pouts and you gulp, defensiveness abandoning your body and emotions swirling inside at the sweet, hopeful color of Jaemi’s voice. 

“People here are going to make sure of that, Jaemi,” you assure her in a whisper and by the time you rock her softly in your arms, you can tell she's asleep in them “I'll make sure you get the best mom and dad in the world, hm?” 

You don't know if you can keep your promise. If there's enough will for you to do it, if it's up to you to decide it. But you don't get to dwell on it for long. 

“Is she out?” Jiwoo asks and you nod, sliding back with your chair a little so that she can take Jaemi in her arms instead “I'll get her to the nap room. Sorry about that.” 

“It's okay.” You smile at her and she puts a comforting hand on your arm, shaking you a little on your seat before heading for the nap room. 

You don't dare to look at Yunho after that. Yeah, he saw your mother belittling you and, yeah, he made you food and wiped away your tears after having a panic attack… But that might've been the most vulnerable Yunho has ever seen you. Maybe. It felt like it, anyway. 

Returning to your painting, you forget what the orange blob in the corner of the canvas is supposed to be. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yunho staring at you still, unmoving from his position against the table. 

“How dare you steal my earth friends facts, Kim Y/N.” 

“You mean the facts about worms everyone learns in kindergarten, Yunho?” You scoff “Didn't know you trademarked them.” 

“You enjoy painting.” He says, a fact not a question, ignoring your jab at him and it's starting to get a little annoying how he changes topics so fast. 

“I'm not very good at it.” 

He gets up, scoots his chair closer to yours and you catch as his eyes move up and down your stupid painting “I don't agree.” 

“I didn't ask,” huffing, you squint your eyes at him and at your tone he rolls his eyes “Don't you have a concert to get to?” 

“Yeah, you should go with me.” 

That's hilarious. 

“I'm afraid I'm a little underdressed,” you tell him and you think he wants to laugh,  but presses his lips together and pretends to be offended at your words instead. You lean into the table, your eyes following his mouth as he stops pursing his lips, a tiny smile tugging on yours. “And I don't feel like pretending to be your girlfriend today anymore.” You whisper to only him. 

“You won't have to,” he whispers back, leaning in as well, “they know.” 

“What? You told them?” 

“They kind of figured it out.” 

“Hm, because you have no bitc—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts you, annoyed and you laugh, leaning back in your chair “Come with me. I saw your car outside,” he smiles and bats his eyelashes at you “I don't want my mother to know where I'm going, so you can drive me.” 

“Ah, that's why you want me to go.” 

“I also want to hang out with you,” his hand on your arm doesn't startle you but it does send sparks down your spine, his words causing your chest to go warm and your walls to go down “I thought we were doing that today and then I got kidnapped by eight year olds.” 

There's this image of Yunho that flashes through your head, the one of him running around the yard with people so dear to your heart that it makes the poor organ beat erratically for the second time today. 

Deflect. 

“And you managed to keep your ugly outfit clean. I'm impressed.” 

He lets out a tired breath. 

Deflect. Ignore. Don't let it fool you, Y/N, he's not staying this cordial forever. 

However, you think that as a thank you you can give in a little. Just a tiny bit. Just for tonight. 

“Do they have parking?” 

Yunho smiles wide. 

You would never admit you actually want to hang out with him, too, so instead you just say: 

“I'm driving you and then I'm staying for an hour,” he claps and gets up suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your chair as well “And if I don't like it there, I'm leaving.” 

He looks like he wants to say something but, instead, he just shakes your twined hands with excitement before letting go at the realization of what he's doing. 

“You might want to go to the bathroom first.” 

“Why? Where is the concert?” 

He says nothing. 

“Jeong Yunho… Where are we going?” 

They do not have parking. Not near the musty bar you're currently trying to make your way into, anyway. 

Yunho shows something on his phone to the bouncer at the entrance and then turns to you “My girlfriend,” he says, grabbing your hand again and opening his eyes at you as a signal to go along with his lie “She's also invited, obviously.” 

So long for not pretending to be together, huh?

You nod and you kind wish you didn't because it leads you to a small space with a crowd that's bigger than what it can host. There's heavy drums and amazing vocals coming out of the speakers and you actually recognize the guitarist of the band that's playing. You don't know his name, but you definitely saw him in pictures with Yunho before. 

Grabbing Yunho’s arm when he lets go of your hand, it grants you the brief grace of his stare. 

“I'm sorry about that,” he says and then his eyes are on the stage again, smiling at the band. His height works wonders because you can tell he's actually able to see them fully and the next second you're being pulled across the crowd and up some stairs “They didn't expect me to come here with anyone tonight… And don't say it's because I have no game, Y/N, or I swear—”

“You made it!” 

When you let go of Yunho’s arm and stand shyly behind him as they let the both of you into the very humble vip area of this bar, it's like the pictures you've been staring at for months come to life. You don't know names (only Park Seonghwa’s, who's glued to the balcony’s rail, jamming along to the music) but you do know their faces. 

This girl that greeted Yunho with a hug just now it's in almost every picture, smiling just like that. And when she turns at you, that smile disappears and it's replaced with one that's not genuine at all. 

Great. 

“Oh, hi to you too,” she says and her eyes alternate between you and Yunho “I didn't know you were bringing your fake girlfriend tonight.” 

You don't know why, but the way she says it ticks you a little bit. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Yunho’s arm is around your shoulders now and you have to fight the urge to shove him away, like a second instinct “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Gyuri.” 

“It's nice to meet you,” returning her energy, you smile coldly at her too, “I've heard nothing about you.” 

Yunho's hip connects with yours in a silent warning. 

But instead of the usual hypocrisy you're met inside the crowd you move in, you're greeted with something genuine: At your response, Gyuri looks you up and down for what feels like a minute and a half and then that fake smile turns into a genuine one. 

“Okay, I get you,” she nods, laughing to herself when she turns to Yunho. You do too and the color has been drained from his face, at least a little bit “I'm glad you're here. I guess it is meet my girlfriend night,” her head cocks to the side, to where Seonghwa stands and you're a little relieved you don't have to ask what she's talking about when, besides him, you see the mechanic you didn't get to meet earlier this week. She turns to you again “Do you want a drink?” 

“Oh, I'm driving, um…” You look at Yunho “I don't know if you—” 

“No, let's not drink tonight, though if you want to we can call—” 

“No, that's not necessary, I don't feel like—” He interrupts with a nod. 

“Gotcha.” 

The nervousness is palpable and, although you didn't really feel anything the hour and a half it took you two to get to the bar (Yunho didn't really let you, bickering with you about your driving or the decor of the car or the tinted windows or whatever he could think of to annoy you), but now you you notice it. 

The way Yunho's fingers tap on your arm, his around your shoulders still. The way he doesn't really know what to say when you both turn to Gyuri after speaking over each other like that and the way you can't bring yourself to be hostile to him in front of his friends. 

It's a little pathetic. You think Gyuri thinks so too, and the long-haired guy next to her as well because they're staring at you stoically, unmoving. 

“So I'm taking that as a no but I need a drink now. If y'all excuse me…” 

“H-hi, Woo.” 

“I thought we got rid of this when San and Babe got together,” he sighs as Gyuri turns around and leaves for a table, offering you his hand with a wink. You can tell he's a little drunk but the way he shakes your hand brings out a genuine giggle out of you “I’m Wooyoung, Yunho’s best friend. I bet he already told you that, though.” 

No, you want to tell him, you and him haven't been able to talk like that yet. Even after knowing him for over ten years and spending holidays together, you don't know his best friend's name at all. 

And you start to nod just to skip explaining that but Yunho speaks and ruins your plans.

“Mingi is going to kill you if he hears you say that.” 

“Say what?” A tall man stands next to Yunho and only when he hugs his shoulders is that Yunho lets go of you “Are you talking shit about me, Woo?” 

Wooyoung genuinely sulks“I wouldn't dare, Mingi.” 

“You must be Y/N,” Mingi ignores him and you want to laugh at the expression he makes in return, but you busy yourself taking the hand that Mingi's offering “I've heard so much about you in the last forty eight hours.” 

“All terrible things, I'm hoping.” 

“Well—” 

“Okay, okay,” Yunho pushes him away and takes your arm again, giving his actual best friend a look “Let me introduce you to everyone else before Wooyoung makes a scene for the night.” 

Over your laugh, you hear a faint gasp and a I don't ever make scenes! shouted on Wooyoung’s side of the room. 

You were never shy but you fall a little quiet in the middle of these strangers because the one thing you realized right away is that there's no actual need to pretend here, in the dim light and with people who don't give a fuck if your posture isn't perfect or that you're not making small talk. 

It's a little freeing. 

That weight falls off your shoulders and you kind of get why Yunho is a little clueless about how things work in your world after talking to San and Mingi’s girlfriends for a little. 

It truly takes everything in you to keep everything you share about yourself in shallow waters. 

You tell them things they might've already known, things that can be found online about you. You tell them that you met Yunho when you were little, you tell them about your job when the girl that Park Seognhwa chose above going to the gala with you joins and then you direct the conversation to her instead of you. 

They tell you about Yunho’s college life, the parties and the embarrassing moments that you've missed all while he talks with his friends about something, all against the vip balcony railing while they watch the band perform. Gyuri is there too, arm to arm with Wooyoung and they tell you they used to be together. 

It shows, especially when you get up to join Yunho and watch the performance and she snuggles a bit closer to Wooyoung to make space for you. 

Even if there's plenty of space already. 

He looks at you when you bump into him, smiling and leaning into your space a bit to talk over the music “There you are. I thought I lost you to girl talk!” 

You roll your eyes.

“Your friend's are nice.” 

“Normal people usually are, Y/N.” 

Scoffing, you focus on the main vocal of the band. The only girl up on the stage, too and you convince yourself that's more interesting than the way Yunho seems to sparkle when he's with his people “Well, that explains why you're everything but nice.” 

He laughs “I am nice, just not to you.” 

“No, yeah, trust me, I know.” 

“You seem quiet around them,” he turns to look at the girls for a brief moment “And you're usually, obnoxiously loud. Everything alright?” 

You know he's asking about your panic attacks. Yes, you feel fine. You took your pills with your lunch and, considering the small space you're at gives you brief anxiety, mixed with the general nervousness of being with people you don't know, it could be worse. 

But, like you said, his friends are nice. 

You don't exactly fit in this group, but they make you believe you're a part of them at least for a little while and you know your friends, or the people you usually hang out with when you go out, wouldn't give a stranger the chance if presented with it. 

“I'm fine, I'm just… Intimidated.” 

“You just said they are nice, Y/N.” 

“And they're all very good looking, which is unfair and nerve wracking,” you add with a scoff and hear him giggle before you turn to him again. “You said you wanted to hang out with me but it's been forty minutes and you barely said anything,” you give him a look, “so you just wanted the ride, hm? Asshole.” 

“Needy,” he returns, pushing you with his arm, “I also wanted you to meet them. They're a huge part of who I am and I know it’s not this way for everybody, but I do believe you can gather who someone is if you meet the people they surround themselves with.” 

What does that say about me, is what you want to tell him and then his words from a second ago cross your mind. 

It's not this way for everybody. 

He knows and there's something so deeply fucked up about his understanding of you because is not supposed to be this way. You hate Yunho, he hates you and keeping each other at arm's length has always been the norm. 

It baffles you how quickly he can leave his preconceptions of you behind and open the door to his comfy bubble, invite you in and make you feel welcomed where you otherwise don't belong. 

He understands. It makes you smile and he smiles back, close to you both physically and emotionally, and so you're sure you don't need to add anything to this moment you two are having. 

Instead, you shake your head “I don't know why they hang out with you, then,” you turn to the stage one more time and there’s some tension between the band all of the sudden. You don't ask, Yunho is not paying attention to them right now anyway “I still think you wanted the free ride. Send me the gas money when you get home.” 

“When you take me home.” 

“No, you're walking back,” your fingers take a hold of his forearm, pinching it and gaining an exaggerated reaction to the mild pain it causes back from him “asshole.” 

“And get him again for me!” Wooyoung shouts to your left and you both turn to see almost everyone staring at you. 

It's almost enough to make your cheeks burn. Almost. 

When it's almost time for you to go home (the hour you said you were staying turned to two hours) and the band gets down the stage, Seonghwa sits beside you. 

“Did you paint over it?” Is the first thing you ask him and he frowns before understanding. 

“The tree in your brother's office? Nah. He said we should keep it.” 

Your brother has no taste. 

“It's a horrendous tree, Mr Park,” you insist, shaking your head when he makes a noise to disagree. “Please be sure to take it down at some point, behind his back if it's necessary.” 

“Miss Kim,” he starts and you realize whatever he's about to say, it's not about that goddamned tree, “when you asked me to go to a party with you, was it the gala you and Yunho went to?” 

He's direct and blunt and you are grateful that he addresses the topic straight ahead instead of walking around it like the girls did. 

You nod “Yes, I wanted to say I had someone to go with so they wouldn't force Yunho and I to…” 

“I understand.” 

“I'm glad you said no, though. She likes you a lot,” you point to his date, she's jamming along to a rock song you don't recognize in the slightest with Hongjoong, who just joined the group in the vip area with the rest of the band. The vocalist it's missing, however and you wonder where she went, “And you like her too, so that's good. I'm glad.” 

“And you don't like Yunho?” 

The chuckle that bubbles out of you comes out a little more nervous than what you intended “He's, um… An old friend.” 

“He told us you were trying to be friends,” he says and you blink, wondering what else Yunho told them, “but that's not what I'm asking.” 

“I know what you're asking, I know what some of you think it's going to happen,” your eyes land on Yunho, his arm around Hongjoong and they're both laughing at something Mingi said. There's that pull again, your chest feels heavy with something you've never felt before “but it is not going to happen.” 

Yunho catches your eye and smiles, says something to his friends and then starts making his way up to you two. 

Seonghwa, instead of getting offended at your very direct refusal of his intentions, just laughs at you “Famous last words, Miss Kim.” 

“Paint over the stupid tree and I might reconsider your point, Mr Park.” 

He opens his mouth to say something else but then Yunho interrupts, a hand on your shoulder. 

He's so touchy. You never actually took into account if he enjoys physical touch or not, but his hands are always on someone.  On you, when you're close to him. 

“We're leaving.” He says and he's talking to Seonghwa, not you. 

“We all are?” 

“Nope, just us. Princess has a curfew.” 

“Aw,” you place your hand on top of his, pretending to be moved, “yes you do!” 

Harshly but also half-joking (you think) he moves his hand away and turns around “I'll be waiting for you downstairs, you witch.” 

You watch him say his goodbyes and flash you his middle finger before, effectively, going down the stairs. Laughing as you stand up, you return your eyes to Seonghwa “Stop it.” 

“I'm just saying—” 

“Shut up.” 

Seonghwa laughs again and you say goodbye to everyone, Mingi giving you a look that reads as be careful with him and you want to clarify that nothing is ever going to happen. 

But some of them think otherwise. 

When you get downstairs, the crowd overwhelms you all over again and, just when you think Yunho might've actually left you, there's a hand that closes over yours. 

The hand spins you around and Yunho comes into view with his lips curled upwards into a teasing smirk “This way, princess.” 

Suspicious (about the fact that he's navigating the crowd towards anything but the exit, not about his flirtatious ways), you tug at him to make him stop “What are you up to?” 

He ignores your question, moving fast and through a deserted hallway where music doesn’t really get through and, after that, he opens a door that leads to the back of the musty bar. 

“Are you bringing me here so I can get robbed, Yunho?” 

He huffs out a laugh, kind of offended but not really “Obviously, Y/N. It wasn’t because someone was taking pictures of us all night at all.” 

His hand is on yours still as he drags you to the streets and to where you think your car is. You’re grateful he’s holding you, your heart dropping at his words. Not because people can’t know you came to this bar, or that you’re with Yunho, but because someone recognized you and you didn’t notice.

You always notice.  

But this time, you felt so comfortable inside a bubble that isn’t yours that you allowed someone to disrespect you like this. 

Worst, disrespect someone else who’s supposed to be with you like this. 

“Are you sure it was us and the person wasn’t taking pictures of Hongjoong? He’s kind of the buzz around here, Jeong.” You try to joke to calm the beating of your heart down, swallowing hard as you get to your car. 

Your hand shakes a little as you press the buttons to unlock the doors and, by the time you get into the car you’re sweating. You feel the moisture on the back of your neck like a warning, it tells you that you need to calm down before actually getting on the street but Yunho’s words don’t help at all. 

“That's what I thought but then I realized the phone was following you.” 

“Great,” you gulp again, starting the car and turning on the ac just to have something to distract you and your hands. "You didn't have to leave with me, though. You just needed to tell me and—” 

“We’re together, aren't we? At least to them, we are, so leaving together it's the least they expect us to do.” 

Expect. You hate that he's right, that he was able to think rationally and you hate that he regards the situation you're both in with a little more maturity than a few days ago. 

This turn in his personality is overwhelming to say the least. There's only so much concealing you can do before it shows that you're starting to care about him genuinely, beyond the pr and the arranged relationship.

“Thank you.” You mutter after a few seconds of silence where he checked his phone. 

He looks up from it a few seconds, smiles at you a little and then returns his attention to the screen. It takes a few seconds of the ac blasting in your face and the sound of the keyboard of his phone to return you to the ground, panic dissipating when he looks back up again. 

“Are you sure you don't want to sneak back? I don't mean to steal you from your friends, Yunho.” 

“You are my friend, princess.” Without really wanting to, your nose scrunches at the corniness of the statement and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t make that face. Look, I was searching online for the pictures or videos they might've taken at the bar and I found this.” 

He turns his phone and although your panic went away, the feeling is replaced by a little bit of anger: It's a picture of you both, Jaemi in your arms, her face covered by your hair and shoulder. Yunho is staring at you both sweetly, like you remembered he did and you are mid sentence. 

It's not the face you're making in the picture that upsets you, it's the fact that someone took that moment and posted it online for everyone to see. 

“You don't like it.” He says and you take a swing of air before replying. 

“I do like the picture, I don't like what it means,” and he's about to ask what you mean, you see it in his eyes but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don't like that they took that moment away from me, from us.” 

You don't know why you say it like that but you do, there's this emotion laced on your voice that, a week ago, you would've fought to keep away from him. He was never supposed to see any of this. In fact, no one was supposed to see any side of you that wasn't perfectly crafted to their liking, to your mother's liking. 

Yunho getting to know you like this wasn't part of your plan. So you ignore the sting on your chest at his pained expression caused by what you say next. 

“From now on, let's not allow them to take moments away from us. Let's meet when we're scheduled to, during the week and not on weekends and—” 

“Let's go.” 

“Yeah, I'll take you home and then maybe we can tell our moth—” 

“No, no. Just… Let's go here,” he tips and taps at the screen of your car, placing an address inside the gps you're unfamiliar with, “and then we can go home.” 

Confused and in a surprising complaint mood, you start to back out of the parking spot. At the questions written all over your face, he simply places a hand on your knee and squeezes there. It does nothing to calm you down but it does distract you for a second. 

Which is bad. Cause you're driving and all, so you bat his hand away with yours and he laughs at the dead look you send his way. 

“Where are we going?” 

“I want to show you something.” 

“Jeong Yunho, are you sneaking me into your dorm room?” 

“Shhhh.” 

A finger on your lips is the only thing you get as a response before he pokes his head out, into the badly lit hallway of what you can only presume is his dorm room. 

His digit is replaced by your hand because you're trying very hard no to burst out laughing at his very specific change of placement. He sprints to the wall in front of you and moves his hand, urging you to follow his footsteps. 

You do, only much slower than what he intended, you guess, because as soon as you're on his reach he grabs your arm and collides his body with yours. His lips near your cheek when he looks down, his words a whisper. 

“The cameras are old and they don't catch fast movements that well, so we have to run.” 

It takes five good seconds to try and contain your laugh again before replying: “Okay… Mister Bond.” 

His face falls. “Y/N, I can get in serious trouble for bringing you here.” He deadpans and you nod, fast and unserious. 

“Yeah, no, I can totally see that.” 

“I hate you.” 

You smile all the way up to his room, his anxious behavior a little strange because, well, you see a girl casually exiting a room on the base floor as you go upstairs. She's flushed and giggling as she types on her phone, so you don't understand what big deal is. 

Especially when Yunho all but shoves you into a room you can only assume is his, your kitty heels almost making you trip with the shoe rack by the entrance. 

“You're the most dramatic person I have ever met, Jeong.” 

“Hall monitors are a thing here, Y/N and I don't want to get banned from the team!” 

“What team?” 

Now that you think about it, this does seem like one of the dorms reserved for sports teams in the school you graduated from. This one is smaller, definitely not as luxurious and allegedly has a faulty security system but that's besides the point: there's banners and posters on the walls all the way from the entrance to this room that kind of smells like soju and beer. 

“The dance team!” He says as you step further into the room. 

“I didn't know you dance.” 

There's enough space for two beds, two desks that are pressed together on one corner of the room, in front of one of the beds, giving the illusion of being one cohesive piece of furniture when it's not. In front of the other bed there's a corner mirror and a bedside table with old energy drink cans and one unopened, undrinked water bottle. 

“I didn't know you painted until recently.” 

“I don't,” you argue, throwing your purse on one of the beds before Yunho takes it and places it into the other one. You assume that's his. "You are allowed to have a dorm here for shaking your little ass on stage a few times, Jeong?” 

Your teasing makes him frown but you can only smile at the reaction, arms crossed as you take one more look around the room. 

“I do more than shaking my great ass on stage, princess. Besides, this makes me somewhat very independent from my parents,” he shrugs “And I'm close to the campus. It's a win, win situation for me.”

“Yeah, I'll give you that.” And it's true: you can't really argue against being away from your parents. He's lucky he's able to do it, least to some degree. “You still have to go to your house on weekends, no?” 

“Yeah,” he sighs and when you return your eyes to him, he's making his bed. He looks a little ashamed of the state he left the room in when he catches you staring. “But I think I can allow myself to stay here on weekends now, too, considering they forced me into our little… Arrangement.” 

“Yeah, because your mother is all but allowing you to do things this week. Really, Yunho, don't test the woman’s patience.” 

He frowns at you “What side are you on?” 

“The side where we get scolded the least until this whole thing is over, Yunho!” 

“Look, I understand that you care deeply for your parents approval and we've gone through this already this week but—” 

“But what?” 

You hope the look you send him makes him choose his words very carefully. You don't think it gets the message across when he takes a breath and shrugs. 

“But at some point you're going to have to let go of that, Y/N, you're clearly not happy.” 

“Stop caring so much about my happiness, Yunho.” 

“We're friends, that's what a friend is supposed to—” 

“Oh, stop that.” 

He looks taken aback by your interruption and your tone, but the whole leaving the bar because someone was taking pictures of you knocked some sense of reality into you and now you're upset. 

You don't want to scream, you don't want to fight with him because today has been so good. Good to you, good to him, good to people who are dear to you and to him, but it's so hard. 

It's hard when he understands some of it but not the full picture and it's hard when your walls are down, your feelings are on your sleeve and your words spill out of your mouth without a second thought. 

“We're not friends, Yunho. We've never been friends, we were not brought together to be just friends and you may think otherwise because you have the opportunity to live like this,” you point to his bed, “and go to bars and concerts and make noise within the crowds because you're tall and attractive, not because of your last name but I am never going to have that.” 

Feet moving to their own accord, you cross the space as you speak, until you have to look up at him and that pained expression you saw before heading towards his dorm is back, that pained expression he gave you back at the gala when he found you in that room, that pained expression he had when he fought with his mom in front of you. 

You hate it. Not because he might be in some sort of pain, but because it makes you feel bad that you are the one that's causing it. 

“I am never going to have this, Yunho. So yeah, I'm unhappy and bitter and sad and I've developed a whole panic disorder because of it but that's just what—” 

“God, you're impossible.” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“‘That's just what it's meant to happen’. Is that what you were going to say? ‘That's just the way things are’,” he mocks and that hurts you but he doesn't back down even at the way you physically recoil at his words. 

He moves to the floor, knees hitting hard as he drops and looks for something under his bed. 

You don't need to be here. But before you announce that you're leaving, he does something that ignites your curiosity: he pulls out a box. 

A box with the name of the highschool you attended together in it. You have that box, or at least you think you do, somewhere in the storage of your house where no one can find it because, like almost everything in your life, there's no happy memories in it.

You're not sure if there's happy memories for Yunho, but the way he harshly opens it and rumages inside to find something specific tells you otherwise. 

“The other day, after seeing the canvases in your room, I tried to remember if you liked painting,” he starts and gets up, a mid-sized blue photo album on his hand with the name of the school and your classes slogan engraved in gold on the side, “I tried to remember things I'm supposed to know about you, because we grew up together, Y/N.” 

His reminder makes you gulp. 

“I've tried to distance myself from you as much as I can because I never thought that we would need to get along and— No, no, I never thought I would want to get along with you but now I do and so I went home and I stole this from my mother's office.” 

He opens the album and, at first, you only see pictures of him. Him at his graduation day, him at that one soccer event where he almost broke his nose, him at the school yard with guys from your class you barely remember and then he gets to a specific part of the album. Instead of a picture, there's a card with beautiful handwriting that reads your name instead. 

“See, I always hated that my mother seemed to adore you. She doesn't have any daughters, so I thought it was a way of living that through you and that your mother was a little weird for allowing it to happen, but I was wrong,” he hands you the album and you scowl a little at the pictures you see of yourself, pictures that you've never seen before tonight, “And so, when she asked me to take pictures of you at school events she couldn't attend or your parents couldn't attend, I did it because of that. But I realized recently that she never wanted this for herself.” 

There's a picture of you at a piano recital where you came in third because you sucked at it. There's a picture of you on stage, on school assembly day, accepting a medal for your academic excellency. There's a picture of you next to the school’s art gallery, where you were able to display the canvases you painted throughout your senior year, at your teacher’s insistent request. There's a picture of you in the art gallery, someone you don't recognize or don't really remember is talking to you, their hands pointing at an abstract piece you did. 

It's the only picture where you're genuinely smiling. 

You trace the picture caged with the protective film of the album with the pad of your finger, softly, over that smile and wait for it to disappear but it doesn't. 

You look at Yunho, eyes almost teary with confusion and sentiment. 

“She never wanted this for herself because, although she loves you, she doesn't care about any of this when you're already the perfect match for me in her eyes” he smiles a little, his finger joining yours on the page. “She doesn't care if you got third or first place here, she doesn't give a fuck about your academic achievements and she definitely doesn't give a shit if you're an artist or not,” his finger connects with yours, over your immortalized smile on the picture “but I do.” 

Your head starts to shake, your mind starts to reject his words right away. He cares? About you? No, no. It can be, he— 

He's nodding, stepping close and letting his eyes move away from you just a millisecond so he can stare at the picture “If it makes you this happy, I do. And I did, I don't… I don't remember exactly everything I thought about you as I took these pictures, Y/N, I was probably very annoyed,” he laughs a little and you do too, softly, barely, “but I probably cared back then too, I just… Well, what I'm trying to say is that you can be happy, you can have this and—” 

You don't know what does it. Is it his speech? This whole I was supposed to hate you but I don't think I ever did feeling that washes over you, like some sort of light in the midst of a very long period of darkness? Is it the lingering curve of his lips as he looks at your face in that picture and then back at you with stars in his eyes? Is it the way his finger brushes against yours shyly, like he intended to do it but he's not so sure how you would react to it? 

Is it the way he looked at you this afternoon, while Jaemi was speaking nonsense into your hair? Is it the fact that, at some point during the drive, you looked over and saw him smiling at his phone, at the picture that stole your moment with him this afternoon? 

What exactly prompts you to shut the photo album, let it fall to the floor and close the distance between your lips is beyond you but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't really matter. 

Kissing Yunho feels like defiance, like rebellion against yourself and your principles and your values. It makes your heartbeat happily against your ribcage and that's, maybe, what makes you pull away from the close-lipped encounter. 

He just told you that you can be happy, but your mind can't just accept it so easily. 

Also, he didn't exactly kiss you back. 

His lips are parted when you look at him again, his pupils going all over your face like trying to get ahold of what the fuck just happened. 

This is so embarrassing. 

“I shouldn't have done that,” you start, in a whisper, tiptoes going down until you're back from the clouds on the ground. “I'm so, so sorry. I'll leav—” 

Briefly, you wonder what makes Yunho grab the side of your face and kiss you back, this time with a foreign emotion pouring into the kiss that you, somehow, feel equipped to return as your lips move in tandem with his. 

You wonder if what makes his free hand move to your waist and press you flush against him is, in any way, motivated by some sort of pity. 

His tongue brushing softly against yours for the first time makes your insecurity go away. It makes everything else go away, including that alarm inside of your head that tells you that you're making a mistake. 

It’s blasting red, dangerous and irrevocable red, but you think you confuse the color of it with the blush on Yunho’s cheek when you push a little onto him and he falls to the bed. You confuse the sound with the sigh that he lets out when he pulls you to him and your first instinct is to sit on his lap, leg on each side of him, hand fisting his shirt as you capture his lips again. 

His warmth engulfs you when his arms go around you, press you into him again and settle you further into his lap so you’re not awkwardly hovering over it anymore. There’s this need that takes over you, struggling to come up to the surface. You think he feels it too and, when your hips move out of pure want, he opens his legs a little more. 

Adrenaline rushing through you, making you confuse the sensation for pure euphoria, it takes two more thrusts into the material of his jeans for you to come to your senses. 

What the hell are you doing? 

Your heart races, for a different reason now. 

What the hell do you think you’re doing? 

Panic rising, you push Yunho’s shoulder with your hands, pulling you both away from the kiss completely. He has a pout on his lips, swollen from your kisses and flushed pink. They look very inviting, and although there’s a part of you that wants to give in, there’s the other side of you, the louder side, that’s telling you to think clearly. 

Giving into Yunho, is giving into your mother’s wishes fully. Giving into Yunho means she won. 

And Yunho thinks you are able to be happy one day, the words you cut off still ringing in your mind and they cover your fears with hope you never felt before, hope that you didn’t think you deserved to feel in the first place. His kisses had that taste, too. 

But you don’t think you can let your mother win.  

“Dinner.” You manage to say, untangling his hands off your waist, using them to help you up and off his lap.  

“W-what?” 

“It’s almost nine, I have to go to dinner with my brother.” You fix your shirt, tuck your hair behind your ear and bend over him to grab your purse before clearing your throat, “I know the way out.” 

“Y/N, don’t—” 

“I’ll see you next thursday.” 

When you sprint out of the room and close the door behind you, you already want to go back in. 

But running is sensible, it’s what you’re supposed to do. 

It doesn’t matter that hot, angry tears are wetting your cheeks. 

It’s what’s best for everyone, including him.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[vivantesopvles]

‘What, then, would you say defines Dark magic?’ Professor Potter asks, not even bothering to look up from the homework he’s grading. 

It’s long past his office hours, but that has never stopped Tom from finding all sorts of excuses to knock on his door. Tom wouldn’t say the professor indulges him, per se; it’s just that their conversation often turns out so stimulating it’s impossible not to crave for more. 

‘Depends on who you are and how you approach the subject,’ Tom ventures carefully. ‘A Spellmaker, I imagine, would focus on the energy composition of a spell; the Dark ones require a high amount of magical output from the caster whilst also draining the subject. A Healer, on the other hand –’

‘That’s quite all right.’ Professor Potter lays down his quill, gives Tom a knowing look over his spectacles. ‘I am familiar enough with what Fawson has to say. I want to know what you think, Mr Riddle, after your – ah, shall I say intensive,’ a half-smile curves his lips, 'research on the subject.’

Tom feigns a look of innocence. His mind whirs. His eyes catalogue every outward sign the professor displays. Nothing. Tom can’t even tell if he’s angry or not.

‘I’m trying to get an internship at St Mungo’s,’ Tom fudges. ‘The research … it’s just for academic purposes.’

‘That’s not true, is it?’ Potter spins on his chair, and makes to stand up. His cane comes flying into his hand. Tom’s eyes widen when he feels magic, wild and forceful, gather around them like storm clouds. ‘Ten points from Slytherin,’ he smiles, ‘for lying. Now, Mr Riddle, can you tell what I’m doing?’

Out of thin air, where the turbulent rush of magic has been, water comes. And with a snap of his fingers, Potter traps them both in the centre of the vortex.

‘A hint,’ he says, ‘it’s not Dark, but definitely illegal.’

‘It’s the Forming,’ Tom says, awestruck by the great churning around them, loud as a waterfall. For it is no mere water; a single drop of it on Tom’s skin would be deadly. It’s Professor Potter’s magic in its purest, most concentrated form. 

‘So that brings us back to our question. What makes a spell Dark?’

Belatedly, Tom realises that he’s not to be punished for reading up on the Unforgivables, on Necromancy, on Horcruxes, or whatever it was Professor Potter saw him doing. This is a proper lesson – an introduction to the Dark Arts.

‘Complications,’ Tom breathes. He feels giddy all of a sudden, like he’s inhaled fairy dust. ‘When the practitioner suffers lasting complications to a spell or ritual, the process should be labelled as Dark.’

‘Very good,’ Potter says softly. ‘And that is why you will study under me from now on – not as a Hogwarts student, but my own apprentice. I do care about your well-being, Mr Riddle, even if you yourself might not.'

24052024 | @microficmay | elation

[goodnightmemes]

AGATHA ALL ALONG SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ You don't seem like yourself. ❜

❛ If you wanna be in control, you can be. ❜

❛ Is this really how you see yourself? ❜

❛ Do you remember why you hate me? ❜

❛ The things that you're roasting me for are the things that make me dangerous. ❜

❛ How long have I been here? ❜

❛ Call me "nosy," I'll cut out your tongue. ❜

❛ Can you put on some clothes? 'Cause you... 'Cause you're naked. ❜

❛ Do you remember pain? It kind of tickles, doesn't it? ❜

❛ Maybe I can't kill you, but I can make you wish you were dead. ❜

❛ I am not the only one that wants to see you dead. ❜

❛ Ugh! It really warms the heart. ❜

❛ You don't have a heart. ❜

❛ Be sure to tell the vengeance-seekers I said hi. ❜

❛ That's why I saved you from the spell you were under. ❜

❛ Wherever you are, a coven there shall be. ❜

❛ I feel really optimistic about this. ❜

❛ So you're a bit of a kook. Every witch has their process. ❜

❛ Witches like you are the reason people think we poison apples, and steal children, and eat babies. ❜

❛ Don't you miss the glory days? ❜

❛ The path you're currently on leads nowhere. ❜

❛ Hey! Where do you keep your jade eggs? I'm fresh out of marbles, and my pelvic floor is all over the place. ❜

❛ I haven't seen you since I made a really pointed effort to never run into you again.❜

❛ Historically, we as a group don't do well in courtrooms. ❜

❛ People like you are dangerous. ❜

❛ Are there any real witches in the house? ❜

❛ What a team of rejects. ❜

❛ This is just a really, really, really horrible party. ❜

❛ It's giving "middle-aged second chance at love" vibes and I'm here for it. ❜

❛ Okay, so a witch is really just another name for a bad girl, is that right? ❜

❛ I'm not saying that I wanna join the club or anything, but I would drink the blood of a virgin if it would smooth out some of these wrinkles. ❜

❛ So the hallucinations seem chill. ❜

❛ I can't protect you! ❜

❛ I do not wanna die here. This is not where I die. ❜

❛ They can take your power, but they can't take your knowledge. ❜

❛ I didn't think you had it in you. ❜

❛ We were supposed to look out for each other, but we didn't. That was our fatal mistake. ❜

❛ I wish we could go home. ❜

❛ People can't be replaced. ❜

❛ Are we in trouble? Like, more than we were ten minutes ago? ❜

❛ Honestly, I don't know how to feel. Do I hate her? Or do I want her phone number? ❜

❛ I'm feeling impatient. I'm feeling like I wanna cause some damage. ❜

❛ Once vengeance is loosed, you can't reel it back in. ❜

❛ The only way to end a curse is to face it. ❜

❛ Sad is better than angry. ❜

❛ You don't have to know a person's name to know who they are. ❜

❛ Are you really defending a noted serial killer, you creepy lurker? ❜

❛ The moral of the story, kids, is always finish what you started. Also, mercy is overrated. ❜

❛ Who better to commune with the dead than someone who's put so many in the grave? ❜

❛ I mean, or we could just slit her throat. ❜

❛ But we were getting along, weren't we? We were clicking. There was unity. ❜

❛ She's possessed! For real this time! ❜

❛ I hate ghosts. ❜

❛ Why do you hate me still?❜

❛ You were born evil. ❜

❛ Please take me with you. ❜

❛ She was protecting you. But you don't deserve it. ❜

❛ I couldn't... I couldn't control it. ❜

❛ Death comes for us all. ❜

❛ You're so much like your mother. ❜

❛ We love you more than we could ever hope to communicate in human words. ❜

❛ You don't need to be a psychic to see that you're a good egg. ❜

❛ Enjoy the now, baby. It's the only thing that's certain. ❜

❛ Nothing in my life has felt normal until I met you. ❜

❛ I want you to know the real me. ❜

❛ You're so adorably trusting. ❜

❛ Word to the wise, don't go sniffing around there. ❜

❛ You seriously don't know what kind of crazy that lady eats for breakfast. ❜

❛ I panicked, so I ran. ❜

❛ Could we, like, maybe not, with the physical violence? ❜

❛ Power doesn't interest me. ❜

❛ Yeah. Well, what you did was ehhh … but life goes on. Yours, anyway. ❜

❛ I mean, I've killed...uh...my share. But you don't see it holding me back. ❜

❛ Don't you dare feel guilty about your talent. You survived. ❜

❛ So you broke the rules. Big deal. That's what kept you alive. That's what makes you special. ❜

❛ I don't need you anymore. I don't know if I ever did. ❜

❛ If you really wanna finish this together, just know that I do not trust you. At all. ❜

❛ You'll get a nosebleed trying that hard to read my mind. ❜

❛ Hey, you want straight answers, ask a straight lady. ❜

❛ Tell me what more I should see, when I look at you. ❜

❛ You know, we really hated each other from the beginning. But now...I love you, guys. ❜

❛ I'm a forgotten woman. ❜

❛ Death comes for us all. It is what we all have in common. ❜

❛ I can see all the pieces falling into place. The gaps are filling in. ❜

❛ I'm telling you now because soon I'm not going to remember any of this. ❜

❛ I hope you'll join me. ❜

❛ I needed you. My coven. ❜

❛ What can I say? I like the bad boys. ❜

❛ I loved being a witch. ❜

❛ That's it? That's all the... That's all the time I get? ❜

❛ This can't be the end. It has to be the beginning. ❜

❛ I watch you. Just as closely as you watch everyone else. ❜

❛ No one in history has had special treatment like you. ❜

❛ You gave me nothing. You took. ❜

❛ Why do you let them believe those things about you, hmm? ❜

❛ What fresh horrors await us! ❜

❛ You seem relaxed. Usually at this point you're either complaining loudly or freaking out loudly. ❜

❛ It's nice. That feeling when your body knows it's safe. ❜

❛ Sometimes...boys die. ❜

❛ Congratulations, my love! I'm sorry I didn't have a ribbon for you to run through. ❜

❛ Why don't you want me? ❜

❛ Power looks good on you. ❜

❛ You do this and I will hate you forever. ❜

❛ Please let him live. Please, my love! ❜

❛ If you want to survive, get used to this feeling. ❜

❛ I cannot protect you from what's coming. ❜

❛ I saw you die. ❜

❛ And now, I'm a ghost. Can you dig it? ❜

❛ By the way, I did not sacrifice myself for you. I took a calculated risk. ❜

❛ You're making fun of me. This is just one of your tricks. ❜

❛ You have something of mine. I know you took it. ❜

❛ Why are you still here? Why won't you just die? ❜

❛ I'm sure he would forgive you for... whatever you did. ❜

❛ We could make a good team. You and me. ❜

[erwinsvow]

omg i keep thinking about reader teasing rafe all day, and like reader keeps like finding reasons that they can’t have sex just to see how far rafe would go. i feel like rafe would either not stand for it or he would get so angry

so bitchy reader coded!!!! she loooves to do this

teasing rafe is fun because it's so easy. he's such a sucker, falls for your same tricks everytime. you have him running in circles without doing anything at all.

and at heart, you like to see it. it's fun for you—watching him chase you. he cares enough to do it, hasn't stopped even though it's been weeks and months of the same, ever since you caved and allowed yourself to realize you wanted rafe to be your boyfriend.

it starts the same—his favorite dress. strapless, with a pretty blue pattern and a ribbon border that ties into a bow on the neckline, at the curve of your tits. you look pretty, you always do, but this dress makes you even prettier, you think. you pick it out knowing he goes crazy over it every time, knowing you were going to make it hard for him today.

it's not really a day dress, so you slip your white cardigan over your shoulders to make it seem more so, climbing into the passenger seat of rafe's truck with a little too much show, revealing a little too much leg and hands lingering on the seatbelt across your chest a little too long.

when rafe sees you, he swallows hard, and you already know your plan is working. he stares, where the seat belt tightens on your body and the expanse of your thighs that's openly visible now that you're seated.

"rafe?" you question, staring back at your boyfriend while his eyes are hyperfocused on your exposed skin.

"hm?" he looks up at your eyes for a second.

"are you gonna drive or just keep looking at me?"

"oh. uh-" he shifts the car into gear, taking off, though you catch him staring back at you every few minutes. the next time he does, you move your hand to his cheek, pushing it gently so he's looking on the road.

"eyes ahead, perv. i don't wanna die because you're horny," you say it with a laugh, though he doesn't take it as one.

"shut up. why'd you wear that dress?"

a good question. why had you worn the dress? because you and rafe had gotten into a little fight the night before, and there was nothing more satisfying to you than making him cave first in your fights.

"my others were in the laundry. tough."

when he arrives at the country club, it just hits him there's a fully planned day ahead—lunch with top and kelce, golf, dinner with your parents and then the party later that night. there's hardly any time to get you alone.

"listen, princess, i think-"

"gonna be late, rafe! let's go," you say, making a show out of getting out of the truck and flashing him in the process. he groans before getting out to join you.

the day moves painstakingly slow for him. at lunch, you take off the cardigan and lean in to tell him something twice, letting him stare down the front of your dress for a moment before you pull away. when you go to the bathroom to freshen up, he gets up to join you, but you yell out to a friend in the distance and walk in with her, smiling back at rafe.

he sits back at the table grumbling something.

"what's wrong with you?" kelce asks, "never seen you this mad before golf."

"shut it."

on the course, his game is completely off. you keep bending over to retrieve the golf balls after he holes out, walking back and placing it into his palm with a sweet smile, though you are anything but.

"what're you doin'?" rafe asks, holding you close with your arm in his hand.

"getting the ball for top. what else?"

"no, you're fuckin' not." he grips your arm a little tighter, but you break loose, turning around and smiling back at him, before bending over to pick up top's golf ball and placing it in his hand.

he makes it to dinner with your parents angry and horny. you're seated next to rafe, rattling on about your day to them with a hand on rafe's arm. your foot rubs against his ankle, crawling further up while he tries to tell your dad about his golf score.

"the new course is great," your dad says, just as rafe feels your hand on his thigh.

"y-yeah," rafe chokes out.

"you okay? drink some water," you say, smiling like a concerned girlfriend instead of the little devil you really are.

a full day's events later, he gets you alone at the party, setting his beer aside to yank you by the back of your dress into the nearest empty bedroom. your friends stare while rafe drags you away, though you don't look the least bit upset about it.

"hey! you're gonna rip my dress," you say, trying to get free from his insanely strong grip.

"shut it. what the fuck was that all day? huh? thought that was cute?" rafe sounds about as angry as you've ever heard—it's a lot hotter than you had expected.

"what? i didn't do anything."

"shut up. get on the fuckin' bed."

"okay!" you chirp, agreeing immediately. teasing rafe was only fun because you got what you wanted out of it—him, at the end, all angry and tense and pent up. you reach back to undo the bow on your dress, getting ready to unzip it when rafe's hand stops your own.

"no. leave it on."

[dragon-kazansky]

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Two - Take my hand

☆☆☆

It was starting to get light outside. Alex had left you locked in your room all night. You could hear voices outside your door, but you didn't care to even try and listen in.

Since your father died, Alex had become a stranger to you. He was nothing like the boy you once knew.

You're not sure exactly how much time had passed. You had resulted in laying on your bedroom floor listening to the mumbled voices and the footsteps, as well as thinking about the man in the basement.

The way he looked at you. It was like he knew you. The man from your dreams...

You hadn't fallen asleep at all, so you had no idea if you were still able to dream of him. You wanted to know why you were dreaming of him.

There was so much you didn't understand.

Eventually, the door to your room opened. You looked up with tired eyes to see Alex coming into the room. You summoned what energy you had to push yourself up into a sitting position.

Alex closed the door behind him and leant against it. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn't read. You could see his frown clearly, though.

"Come to scold me?" You ask quietly.

Alex doesn't say anything for a while. He just stares at you. He then lets out a huge sigh.

"You shouldn't have gone down there."

"Who is he?" You ask.

Alex stares at you.

"Who is he?" You ask again, demanding an answer.

"Some kind of Dream Lord."

"Dream Lord?" You look at him curiously. You can tell Alex doesn't want to answer. "Why is he trapped in out basement?"

"Because father failed to trap Death. They're siblings or something... Look, I don't know the details, but we can't let him out. He could hurt everyone."

"Hurt everyone? I assume he'll only hurt those who have kept him prisoner. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt me."

"He couldn't. There's a difference. He needs to stay down there." Alex speaks firmly.

"Who put you in charge?" You ask, glading at him.

Alex clenches his jaw and pushes off the door. He grabs the doorknob and looks at you again. "Do not ever go down there again."

He leaves you alone once more.

☆☆☆

Security in the house doubled. The basement was never unattended. Any time you moved around the house, you were constantly being watched. You were never able to get down into the basement again.

Something had changed in you.

Alex had gone mad with anger when he realised.

You had stopped aging.

While everyone else in the house grew older as the years began to pass, you didn't. By your 30th birthday, you had stopped ageing. Alex had gone down into the basement one night and demanded to know what the Dream Lord had done to you.

Morpheus never uttered a word to him.

That angered Alex even more.

"You will never get out of here."

Morpheus watched him go in silence. Angry didn't quite cover how he felt. He was already planning his revenge for being trapped so long, but if you've been hurt in process too, Dream had no intention of showing mercy.

☆☆☆

Too much time had passed, and you hadn't aged a day. Alex couldn't stand it. He was getting old. He now looked much older than you. It wasn't normal.

Alex had celebrated his 70th birthday party.

You had not been permitted to attend, not that you would have wanted to if you had. Alex had kept you locked in his room. Only he and Paul could enter your room.

He didn't want anyone to see you.

You weren't even allowed into the garden. The most fresh air you got was through your window, which only opened a little bit. Your life had been the worst it had ever been.

Still, every night, you dreamt of the Dream Lord. However, the dreams had changed slightly. It felt like he was looking right at you in them now. Like he could see you.

Many mornings, you have woken up, heart racing.

If he was a dream lord, then surely could sense your dreams. Him being trapped is what made dreaming so rare.

You look down at the scar on your wrist. It healed itself, but every so often, you could feel the burn. When it bothered you, you would cover it gently and press down on it. The burning would subside. You were certain it had something to do with him and that he could feel you through it... Or you could just be making things up to cope with the fact you were also a prisoner in this house now.

Alex stares at your door. Paul had been pushing him in his wheelchair toward the basement when he asked to stop a moment. Very few people knew of you and your "condition," as Alex called it.

He was going to go down into that basement one final time. He swore this would be the last time. He was going to attempt to bargain with the thing down there again.

Alex refused to acknowledge him as anything other than a thing. Not after everything that's happened in this house.

Rodrick, Ethel, you.

"Let's go." He says firmly. Paul pushes him the rest of the way to the basement. Alex had checked his pocket for the key to your room. It was there. Good.

You could hear them leave through your door. You wait until it goes quiet, and then you hear another set of footsteps. You smile. You knew Alex was going down to visit the man from your dreams again.

Alex underestimated you, or perhaps he was just neglectful in his old age. Despite being confined to your room, you could hear an awful lot. Be it from conversations taking place just beyond your door or words spoken in the garden within earshot of your open window.

He also underestimated some of his guards. How easy they were to bribe. As long as they got paid, they would do anything. The master key to the house was kept in the office. Alex never locked the office. His first mistake. His second was giving the guards access to the entire house. The third was thinking you were harmless in your room.

A trade. Money, which you still had access to, for the key to your room.

That exact key slid under your door, and you slide the money through. You hear the guard walk away, and you pick up the key.

You're careful as you unlock the door and poke your head out. Just because some of the staff can be bribed doesn't mean that some aren't loyal to Alex.

Some of them pitied the woman Alex kept locked away in her room.

Down in the basement, Alex stared at the strange man who had been down here since he was a boy. This was the last time he would come down here.

"I could have asked you for wealth or power, like my father did. But all I ever wanted was for my sister and I to be free of you."

Dream stated at him silently.

"Surely you want that too."

Dream remains silent. All he can think about is what he would do if he could get out. How can he get to you? You deserve better than this family.

"Alex, darling, please." Paul pleads.

Alex sits back down in his wheelchair, but before he lets Paul take him away, he turns back to Dream. Morpheus only follows his movements with his eyes.

"She stopped ageing. That was your doing, right? That day my sister came down here, you did something, didn't you?"

Dream does not reply per usual, but his brows do crease together slightly.

"Leave her alone. That's all I ask of you now. I won't be coming down here again."

The circle that kept Dream trapped had been broken by the wheel of the wheelchair. Paul glanced at it but said nothing. The two men left.

You waited for the opportunity. You would need to wait for Alex to go to bed before you went anywhere. There was also the issue of the guards down in the basement.

You hadn't thought that far ahead, but yo were determined to see that man again. You had questions that you couldn't wait to ask anymore. Alex wasn't going to answer them, so you had to ask him.

You didn't have much time to come up with a plan, but as it would turn out, you wouldn't need one. Not exactly.

Alex had gone to bed. You were certain of it. With your key in hand, you unlocked your door and poked your head out. You heard foot disappearing at the end of the hall but saw no one else. You step out and close your door behind you.

You're about to make your way down the hall when the sound of gunshots echoes from the basement. The sound is so loud that you're certain everyone can hear it.

You hear voices behind you and run for it, putting in the code for the door you had memorised and disappear down into the basement. You come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

One guard had his gun raised at the sphere, which had now shattered. The other guard was trying to calm the other, but she soon stopped when the man inside the sphere stepped out.

He was tall. Very slender. Pale. Handsome.

His eyes had locked onto yours. You felt like the air had once again been stolen from your lungs. You stare at him as a portal opens up beside him.

You're afraid.

He stands there, harsh wind whipping at him from the portal, his hand raised out toward you. He doesn't utter a single word, but you understand.

You don't, can't, move.

He lowers his hand and turns to the portal. He leaves.

You gasp softly, finding yourself able to breathe again. Whatever power he seems to have over you, it feels almost suffocating. You doubt you'll see him again, but your scar burns and you have to wonder.

☆☆☆

You had retreated back to your room before anyone realised who you were or what you were doing down there. You had been unable to sleep.

The house has been the most awake you have ever heard it. Paul had called loudly for a doctor. Guards had been running back and forth constantly through early hours of the morning.

You had kept to yourself in your room. By the time the sun came up, your door was unlocked and opened. Paul was standing in your doorway. You sat up on your bed and looked at him.

He had definitely looked better.

"He's gone."

You stare at him. "Who?"

You knew who.

"The man. He's gone. Alex is... he won't wake up..."

You feel something heavy in your stomach. Alex wouldn't wake up? That sounded like that sickness people had. Did the man do that?

"I... I know what to do."

You let the silence hang between you both. What could you say? You used to like Alex when you were children, but after Rodrick died, he became just the same.

"Look, I know you didn't like him for keeping you locked up in here, but look at you. You're not... normal. The man did something to you."

"He didn't do anything," you defended him. Despite knowing nothing about him, you chose to defend him.

"He must have. Can you even die...? Something happened to you. Magic, or something."

You scoffed.

"I'm not going to ask you to leave. You can stay here. I won't even lock the door anymore."

"How kind of you," you say dryly.

Paul realised this wasn't going anywhere. He had told you what happened and that was it. Paul closes the door behind him but doesn't lock it. He leaves you alone.

You let go of your tough front and feel the tears fall gently. You wipe at your cheeks and curl up on your bed.

Now, what are you supposed to do? You have nowhere else to go. No one to rely on. Not even your dream man.

You were alone.

☆☆☆

@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker

@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic

@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @thescarletwitchjobro - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda

@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 -

[compressingsins]

|| At My Worse

Bakugo x chubby f!reader

Warnings : Established relationship, past bullying, body worship, loving Bakugo (a bit OOC but it’s just to fit the story), reader and Bakugo are virgins, future au both are adults, nsfw, creampie, car sex; Minors do not interact, please.

Hiiii! So I’ve been seeing way too many TikTok’s of Bakugo’s death and even though he’s not dead! I’m getting tired of seeing them, so I decided to write just a cute little story for our angry baby. Hope you guys enjoy! 🫶🏾

Please do not copy or rewrite my works without my permission. 🫥

"You're such a pig! Stop picking up food off the ground and stuffing it in your mouth, that's nasty!"

You sat in the sandbox with your head down, your eyes trained on the ground as you tried to zone out the mean comments. But it wasn't easy, being only five years old and getting bullied by other kids brung tears to your eyes. It wasn't fully processed in your mind as to why you're always getting bullied. Daily, you get picked on about your weight and your parents never happen to see it. And as a kid, you don't understand why your small body was much bigger than other kids. Though, it never became an real issue to you until you started coming to the public playground and park to just play.

Three kids, like you, stood around your tear stained frame and locked you in to pick on you. They kicked sand at your back, and sometimes they took your toys. But what made your tears stream more was when they all decided to knock down your sandcastle that you've been working on for so long.

"This isn't even a sandcastle! It's more like a pin full of pigs, where you belong!"

"Yeah, I bet you're the queen of all pigs!"

You couldn't understand why kids were so mean and they're just as young as you. It's always bright and sunny but they've always made it dark and gloomy, somehow. There's things other kids tell you that a child shouldn't know and when you tell your parents, they just automatically think that you're overreacting. You're a child, there's no way you can make up some of the things you tell them. But they just always shut you down with some stupid excuse that you're sick of hearing. You just wish that you had at least one friend who cared because before all the bullying, you didn't really even care for having friends.

Now, you just need someone to help you and have your back. Because not even your parents have that, they believe what they want while you sit there and get bullied. You can't really understand anything, as only a mere child, and with other kids telling you that you belong in an orphanage or that you were adopted, it's painful. Funny thing is, you actually know what all that heartbreaking stuff means. Even as a child. But your sobbing was only to their amusement.

"Gosh, you're such a crybaby! Do you want some food to calm yourself?!"

Your child mind didn't know how else to react, only to cry at the utterly mean comments of these other kids. You know personally that you don't deserve any of this, not as an innocent child who just wants to see the world and enjoy it as much as she can. That's just something you couldn't do. Because apparently, there are other people in this world who'd rather see your misery than your happiness.

"Hey!"

A loud voice shouted in the distance in front of you three, your eyes slowly looking up along with the other kids. There was another kid who was running towards you, with spiky ashy blonde hair and fuming red eyes. You weren't afraid but you were thinking that he was just coming to pick on you too, which brought a nervous throb to your heart. He didn't seem nice. Not even in the slightest...

"What do you want?" One of the kids questioned while holding your toy in her hand.

"Leave her alone, idiots! She didn't do anything to you!"

What? This kid was... defending you? Your gaze averted back to his face and softened from how defensive he became. It's like he was trying to protect you and you felt a sense of relief and happiness flow through you.

"What's it to you? She doesn't even have any friends defending her, so why do you care?"

"Because I'm gonna be just like All-Might, someday! Which means..." He stated before reaching out and grabbing your arm to pull you out of the middle of the kids, "...it's my duty to protect everyone who's helpless agaisnt a villain! Do you wanna fight, come on!" The blonde haired kid was the first person to ever defend you, and it made you feel so... respected now that you had that. This kid doesn't even know you and that warmed everything. You no longer felt like you were alone with him grasping onto your arm and protecting you.

Even with his slightly light voice, the kids didn't seem like they wanted anything to do with you anymore. "Whatever, she doesn't have any friends anyway so screw you losers!" One little girl said as her friends followed behind her, with you and the blonde haired kid watching them. His hold on your arm had ceased to be released as you grasped at his hand but he wasn't paying attention, "Well, she has a friend now and that's me!" And his words stopped your actions on trying to release the tight hold he had on your arm, no one had ever referred to you as their friend.

He growled as they got more and more into the distance, but turned to you once they were completely gone. He still had a hold on your arm, keeping you close to him so you couldn't go anywhere but his hold was a little too tight.

"You're holding my arm too tight!"

He frantically let your arm go before apologizing, "Oh, my bad!"

You rubbed the spot on your arm that he was holding before looking back at his face, that was smiling at you which made you softly smile.

"Those kids didn't hurt you, did they?"

"No. Just took my toys and... destroyed my sandcastle."

His eyes were sealed on your face as he gasped from hearing your story. Your eyes landed on the ground in front of you, a glimpse of his feet in your sight.

"Your sandcastle, that's so cool! We can share my toys and build another sandcastle, if you want to. But I only have hero toys, oh, maybe we can make a hero sandcastle!" You didn't know what to say or do but you wanted to. You really wanted to build a new sandcastle with him, even if you just met him. A nod and a smile was sent from you to him before you replied.

"Well, yeah! I'd love to build a new sandcastle with you!" You both ran away to another clear spot where no one was as you both sat on your bottoms in front of each other to build the sandcastle, "I'm ____. What's your name?"

The little boy looked at you before smiling and replying with closed eyes, "I'm Katsuki Bakugo! And someday, I'll become the hero that'll always keep you safe!" A twinkle was in your eyes, staring at the boy's face that you never want to forget.

Katsuki Bakugo... your hero.

…

…

…

"Why don't you smile during your interviews on tv, Bakugo?" You questioned your bestfriend as you walked down a dirt road with him as the sun was setting, "You need to stop being so stubborn and actually try to look like a hero. It doesn't hurt to smile, you know." You sighed and continued talking. Bakugo usually took days off just to hang with you and relax, or so he calls it. You've never complained about him always wanting to hang with you and take the day off, just because you enjoy his company. The both of you have been friends ever since you were five and now you're in your twenties.

You have other friends, but they're not as special as the grumpy Bakugo. And you've never really understood why he became so grumpy because as a child, he was so sweet and always smiling. But now if you want him to smile, it's basically like you have a better chance at winning the lottery than doing that. But none of that mattered, he's still special to you in each and every way. "I'll smile, when I get the reason to." His response was short like always, so you didn't really mind it at all.

"Geez, Bakugo! How come you just became so damn grumpy, once we hit middle school? What happened?" He didn't answer you as you both continued walking down this trail. The only sound was the birds chirping and the wind blowing through the leaves in the trees, but the silence was expected to you. Everytime you asked this question, he always got silent for a while, for some reason. You don't know why.

Even if he's your bestfriend, there's things that he doesn't tell you. But you don't mind it because obviously, as a person, there's things that'll be kept private. You know there's private things that you keep secret and don't tell anyone, not even Bakugo. It was just some things you were uncomfortable with. But your trail journeying this dirt road was nearly over, considering you were on your way to your apartment that was on this road. It's a country apartment complex and you decided to live in it because you didn't want to be in the big dangerous city. Not that there aren't heroes there, you just enjoy the country.

Your apartment building was right there which you pointed out, "I'm home... finally!" You quietly cheered, since you both have been walking a long time. The male alongside you grumbled as he continued trailing beside you with his hands in his pockets, his eyes sealed on your building with slight distaste. He didn't like you living all the way out here because he confessed that he couldn't protect you. It was a real shock but you tease him about that all the time.

But you appreciated the fact that he always walked you home, no matter how far it is from where he lives. Though, you always let the male know that you were okay and could protect yourself out here, if something was to happen. Even if it did, you live in an apartment with others so you had back up.

"Thanks again, Bakugo. You're always welcome to stay and rest up, so you can head out tomorrow, you know."

"Duh, I know that. I don't wanna freeload off of you, for a day."

"A half of day, idiot. Practically a quarter and you won't be freeloading, especially since I want your company! Come on, Bakugo, you never wanna spend the night at my apartment."

"I have legs, I can fucking walk all the way back home..." He grumbled which made your eyes roll in slight irritation and annoyance, "...besides, I'm a hero and usually use my walk home as a time to make sure everyone's safe."

That actually wasn't a stupid idea and you know he can keep anyone safe. When you were younger, you didn't know Bakugo would become this strong and a real Pro Hero. The only problem that you personally have is that he does things more differently than normal heroes. Like, cursing out a civilian to move to a safe area. You guess it works but it's still unacceptable, when it comes to saving someone's life. He is the great Katsuki Bakugo everyone knew from UA High school, so you knew there are some people who knows how he acts. Maybe it was okay when civilians rather investigate situations than run, so that's one reason he could do that.

But still, he can just use a stronger and more disciplined tone to get them to move, not make them be afraid of him since he is a hero. But you said nothing else as you were now walking up the staircase to your apartment, which always nerved you when you're with Bakugo because for some reason, he always walked extremely close behind you. You've never brought it up just because you figure it's just another sense of security, from the male.

He waited patiently for you to pull out your keys and unlock the door, along with you walking in your apartment like a guard dog. You were so thankful of how protective he is over you, even if he is always so damn grumpy. You've accepted that grumpy side of him so long ago, just because he accepted you for you back then. Your hand slipped into the jacket pocket you were wearing, jingling it first to make sure your keys were in it which they were. You pulled them out and found the right key before inserting it into the door of your apartment, turning it in silence as you could only hear the soft breathing from Bakugo. He always waited until you locked the door.

You pulled your key out before stepping inside and turning to face Bakugo who was still standing there with his usual angered expression. He never ask for them, but you felt it was appropriate to give him a goodbye hug that he always slowly accepted. Sometimes, he'd hug you longer than what felt necessary but you never mind it.

"Thanks again, Bakugo. Make sure you—"

"I know that. You better make sure your damn door is locked and—“

"My alarm is on, if someone tries to break in. Gosh, I know! Stop worrying so much about me, it really doesn't suit your character."

He only clicked his tongue before letting you go and you did the same, before taking a step back to reenter your apartment. His hands were back in his pockets as he stared you down from the other side of your door. You honestly hate when he has to leave, just because he's the main important person you've had in your life. But you knew he didn't want you to waste time, as he says, and hold your door open so people wouldn't know you're home. He's so protective over you that somebody would possibly mistake him for your dad, just by his security around you. You adorn his security and welcome it because you don't have a quirk to defend yourself.

He even accepted that you're quirkless, and that's another thing you loved so much about him. No one really said anything about you being quirkless, it just made you feel alone along sometimes. However, the friends you've gained at UA high was more than you could handle. None of them judged you for anything, you even had two perverts complimenting you. It was just class 1-B that always said something to you. But their mean words were shut down, when Bakugo decided to nearly commit murder. But not just him, if he wasn't around, your entire class did their absolute best to protect you and did a damn good job at it. Yeah, you got bullied in school but you miss the experience you got to share with your friends.

"By the way, Bakugo, I've been meaning to ask you are you free Saturday night? There's a new cafe I wanted to try out!"

His eyes just stared into yours, a glare being sent from him that was making you think he didn't want to. You frantically waved your hands in your face, trying to just brush off what you just asked.

"Uh... you don't have to, Bakugo! I just wanted-"

"I'll be there, dumbass. You're not taking no one else but me but if you're not there by five, then I won't be there."

He turned his back before you could reply but you heard him loud and clear, "I'll be there!" You shouted, watching him walk away until he turned a corner to proceed down the stairs. It didn't take him long to leave your view, which you decided to close the door behind you.

...

...

...

Bakugo just felt as if you just asked him on a date. You've asked him to places before but he felt as if asking him to a cafe was a date. If he was being honest with himself, he has been wanting to go on an official date with you before. But his attitude and pride was getting in the way of that confession. He felt as if he'd be seen as soft for confessing something like that. The thought alone brought a bright tint of pink to his cheeks, his hand covering the embarrassment.

Now all that was in his head was you, and what he wanted with you. He couldn't stand how he was, when it came to you. He's a hero but he wants to be the only hero for you, in each and every way. But he has never confessed to a girl before, so if he was to be rejected by you he didn't know what he'd do. That thought was bringing a headache to him, which was irritating in a way. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, a sigh escaping him to pacify that irritation.

"Ngh-! Fucking stupid..."

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...

"Where is he? He told me to be here before five and he's not even here!" You whisper shouted to yourself and swirled your spoon in the cup of coffee a servant gave you. You poured sugar in the cup and watched the substance dance around in the liquid, grazing the sides of the cup and sticking to it occasionally. It was ten minutes after five, which meant he was late even if you knew you could wait. But still, he wanted you to be on time when he's not even here on time.

The cafe was nice, though, quiet and not with many people. It was just the kind of place you could relax and not worry about anything. Besides that fact, all the servants that came over to you were nice. None of them said a thing, only delivering a smile to you that made you comfortable. But your concentration broke once a voice sounded out and entered your ears. "I'm right here, dumbass..." The voice said, obviously being your bestfriend who still looked angry once you turned to him, "...so you can stop stirring that damn coffee like an idiot."

You never cared about how disrespectful he was, just jumping up to hug him as he shamelessly returned the hold. But he didn't want to hold it longer than thirty seconds, though you didn't complain. He took his seat and you did the same and sat across from him, staring blankly at him. He wasn't annoyed, more like irritated already with being around others. Bakugo knew how people were, even if you were never expecting it, he was expecting everything that assholes had to say. His eyes were already scanning the room, trying to see if anyone looked like the asshole type.

Quite frankly, everyone was attending their own thing and staring at whoever was across from them and talking. He felt a sense of relief wash over him. He didn't have to murder someone today. He never wanted to admit it most of the time, but he always loved hanging with you and only you.

"Why the hell did you want to come to this place? Doesn't seem like anything special to me."

"Stop being so grumpy, can't I hang with my bestfriend?"

He groaned in annoyance but you were right, he didn't mind hanging with you. However, clapping came from behind you and Bakugo along with hysterical laughing. The laughing sounded like it was getting closer to the both of you, which made you both turn around to the source. You couldn't help but think how familiar that laugh sounded. Like all life from your body just escaped, as you turned your head to be met with the main person who picked on you in high school. Monoma, who instantly made you turn away, even though he clearly saw you.

"Ah, your bestfriend? Who would wanna be bestfriends with this loser? I'm guessing you're still a loser too, ____, so you're perfect for each other!"

"What the hell do you want, you damn extra?"

You could hear Bakugo growling practically, eyeing Monoma down as if he wanted to murder him. He, however, knows how much he hates beating up people in front of you. But, you knew Monoma only came over for trouble and to pick on you, as if you're not full grown adults, now.

"I can't come over and greet the two losers I've known from high school!?"

"You're fucking with us because..?"

"Because of you, ____!" Monoma called you out with a point which made you turn to him with wide eyes, "I missed the days when I could roast your ass, without your stupid boyfriend coming to your rescue!"

You knew he was referring to Bakugo, but you could see how Bakugo was holding himself back from killing this asshole. This isn't how you wanted your hangout session with Bakugo to go, not knowing that Monoma was coming. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn't even know that he was in town. You knew he was a hero as well, but you didn't know if he was a pro since you've only seen him a few times on tv. Not like you're friends or anything, so you didn't really care about his appearances on tv. But you didn't want to deal with this, so you grabbed Bakugo by his wrist.

"Uh, this isn't necessary can we leave now, Bakugo? We can just continue this at my—"

"Still the same ole ____, huh?" Monoma interrupted, which made Bakugo tear his wrist out of your grasp.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about! The same weak ass ____ that always hid behind everyone in her class! Your quirkless ass shouldn't have even attended UA high!"

Hearing those words only replayed your bad experiences in high school, overpowering the good experiences that you only wanted to remember. You know you're quirkless and that's why you hated hearing someone just speak it like it wasn't obvious to you, already. "And why the fuck is that a reason for her not to have attended UA high? You don't need a damn quirk to be a hero. Your weak ass shouldn't even be a pro."

The blonde haired male only laughed, basically brushing off Bakugo's insult that should hurt any hero. You just took a hold of Bakugo's wrist again and tugged on it, trying to get him to just come with you and leave. This wasn't worth your time and you didn't want to deal with Monoma, anymore. "At least I have a quirk that can save someone! And what the hell can she do, hm?! Run away and cry what a loser!" He had a point but you know that you weren't really interested in being a hero, when you found out you wouldn't develop a quirk or ever have one. It was a bummer for a while but with Monoma constantly bringing up, it's bringing up all those terrible feelings you've had knowing you wouldn't get a quirk.

"You better shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you..." You knew he would defend you but seeing the death glare he sent to Monoma warmed your heart. However, you didn't want this to go farther than it has to.

"Oh yeah, what're you gonna do?! Attacking another hero will get your ass suspended from being a pro yourself, so you can't do anything! This is hilarious, you're such a klutz!"

He was such an asshole it hurt. You didn't understand why he was so damn unnecessarily rude, especially when you've done absolutley nothing to him.

"Bakugo, can we please just leave! This isn't worth it, please stop getting mad—!"

"You've always had a knack for running away, ____! Hm, I always wondered where you'd go. Maybe someplace where a buffet is being served!"

"Shut your damn mouth, you fucking extra! I don't mind getting suspended from being a damn hero, if that means assholes like you won't bother anyone again! Just because you have a quirk doesn't make your scrawny ass a hero! If you can't shut your damn mouth and protect the weak, then you're just as bad as the villains!"

"Bakugo..."

He was practically fuming, but the fact that he was standing up for you brought such warmth to your heart. He has stood up for you before but this for some reason took the cake. Your hands tugged on his wrist as you pulled him away from the laughing male, that only continued to talk while Bakugo growled at him but followed behind you.

"Yeah, you should probably leave, you know! In case you don't wanna worsen your already bad reputation as a person. You know—where you're such an asshole to everyone!"

That would've been the last straw for Bakugo, if you didn't stop him and wrapped your arms around his strong arm.

"Come on, Bakugo, he's not worth you losing your position as a hero! Don't let him anger you, okay?! Please, for me!"

That stopped all his yelling, his body physically losing all tension as he let you drag him away from the male and outside the cafe. However, once you were outside and away from the cafe, Bakugo snatched his arm out of your grasp. You should've saw that coming but you followed after him. He was so upset and storming down the sidewalk, looking like he wasn't going anywhere in particular. His taller form caused him to take bigger and longer strides away from you, making you have to jog and run after him and shout his name before he just ran off somewhere without trace.

"Bakugo, wait—please!" You called out, which made him stop and turn to you with a glare, his body still as tense as it was when you two were in the cafe arguing with Monoma.

"Aren't you tired of shitheads pushing you around?!"

"Yeah... but I can't do anything about it."

He continued to approach you until you eventually hit your back agaisnt something, making the blonde male pin you agaisnt the object with his body extremely close to yours. Like really close, his body flushed agaisnt yours and his eyes beaming holes into your skull. "You can. You just let those fuckers take away your confidence to make you think you have to bow down to their asses. Geez, you need to know you have friends." You knew that, but it just didn't seem like it anymore, since everyone was doing their own thing as pro hero's. You couldn't really rely on anyone like that, only Bakugo who always tried to be there for you. But being a hero, you know that he doesn't really have time to always relax and kickback with you.

"Yeah, but nobody's there for me at my worse..."

"You really are a dumbass aren't you? I haven't stuck around and kicked your bullies asses for nothing, ____!" It sounded like... he was pouring his heart out to you, but you couldn't tell since he's always angry. So maybe he was just making it clear that he wouldn't allow anyone to mess with you.

"Wha—what are you saying..?"

He couldn't help the pink that dusted his cheeks as he looked down at your face that looked concerned. But he knew he couldn't hold back anymore, it's been so long and he has been holding this in for years. "I'm fucking in love with you, dumbass! Why can't you just see that, damnit?!" He pushed himself off your body as his shocking words reached your ears, your eyes widening from the unexpected confession. Bakugo... is in love with you? You wouldn't have never expected him to be in love with you, him of all people. Just because you didn't think you were his type and that he preferred being only your friend.

"Wha—why didn't you ever tell me, Bakugo?"

"How the hell could I?" He questioned you with his back turned, "I mean... in middle school, you were with some idiot that didn't deserve you. I got so damn mad at you, just because it felt like you fucking neglected me. Like you were stringing me along. I hated you for some time damnit!"

"Is... that why you stopped smiling?"

"That and some other stuff. The only reason I stuck around after you got a boyfriend was because I've never been in love before. But I valued your happiness more than my wants and just stayed your fucking friend." It was silent after he said that because honestly, you didn't know how to feel. You were in love... but not with the guy you dated in middle school. You were a child but you still felt things. Though, you only dated him for one reason.

"Bakugo, please look at me..." You could hear the growl emitting from him before he turned to you, "...I only dated him to fill the empty void that someone else didn't seem interested in filling. I've been in love with you too Katsuki Bakugo, ever since you helped me on that playground when we were kids. But I've never told you because I didn't think you were into me!" His head jerked back at your confession as a gasp escaped his lips, but his shock only made you continue pouring out everything you felt about him.

"Yeah, you became an asshole but still... I'm fucking in love with you, Katsuki! I've never been in love with anyone as much as I am with you. You're practically the only one that cares about my existence, and that's why I'm in love with you! You see past my looks and forget about societies standards! Not once have you commented negatively about my weight, and I love you so much for that! I don't wanna see you with anyone else... I need you. So damn much, it hurts..."

Your voice quieted as you neared the end of your words, but he heard you and couldn't stop his actions of crashing his lips agaisnt yours. Your eyes were wide, taking in the soft texture of his lips that instantly brought a warmth to your entire body. You didn't think you could be even more in love with Bakugo than you already are...

...

It came as a surprise as you found yourself in the backseat of your car, your back agaisnt the seat with Bakugo pressed firmly between your thighs. His lips were attacking any part of your flesh he could see, the sensation sending toe shaking chills throughout your body. Your nails dug into his jacket on his shoulders, slightly pushing it down which made the male help you rip it off his body. He was left in a orange loose t-shirt that you took a hold of, once he exposed the vibrant color to your eyes. But he wasn't hesitant in finishing his meal, sinking his teeth back into your collarbone he showcased for his teeth to nibble on. His tongue grazed some of your skin before pulling it in between his top lip and tongue, before letting his teeth take over and deeply mark that spot.

Your body has never experienced this feeling before, a tickling sensation that sparked a flame in your body that your brain couldn't compensate. The only form of communication that you transferred was your nails digging into his shoulders, driving into his shirt that only encouraged his actions. The man above you wanted to devour you whole in which he was. You needed to stop though, because it was overbearing at the moment. Your hands tapped his shoulders, since your mouth couldn't produce the words to get him to stop. He made sure to suckle hard on the spot of your throat that he was attacking, before coming to a stop and pulling off your throat with a pop. He sat up and looked in your eyes with slight irritation.

"What's the problem?"

"Bakugo, are we really about to do this?"

"Why not? We feel the same way about each other, don't we?" He questioned with a sign of annoyance laced in his voice.

"Yeah, but I haven't... you know."

He knew what you were getting at, but that didn't phase him at all. He's in your exact same boat, that's why he wasn't really feeling anything after you said that to him.

"I haven't done it before, neither, so what's the damn problem?"

"You... haven't?"

"No! How could I when my heart has been stuck on you all my damn life! I honestly don't even find anyone else that attractive..." He turned away from your face as he said that, kind of like he was embarrassed which you found cute and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek. He jolted out of surprise, his eyes wide as he stared down at your giggling form with the apples of his cheeks tinting red.

"You're so cute, Bakugo, I can't really handle it."

"I'm not tryna be cute!" He shouted which only made him even cuter, "And stop calling me Bakugo, damnit! Call me by my first name!" You only continued laughing at the male above you, which made him soften again and stare at your beautiful form underneath him. He couldn't deny how much he was waiting for this, his face even softening and losing the usual angered expression it held.

"Well, Katsuki, thank you for being real with me. I love you..." You couldn't believe how bold you were being but you couldn't help it, you've loved him for years. And personally, his heart couldn't handle how you showcased your affection for him. No one has ever showed him this kind of affection before, and it's practically magical as he's seeing it from you. He never wanted to be with anyone else but you, so that's why his soft side that is extremely rare is coming out.

"..."

His words were mumbled so softly that you didn't even register what he said. Your hands grasped his face to make him lock eyes with you, but he did everything to to avoid your gaze.

"What did you say?"

"I said I love you, ____!" He yelled but it was still heartwarming to hear from him. "Stop tryna make me be a whimp, you know I fucking love you. Now let me love you and show you that I'm not shitting you."

You could already see how serious he was, but you wanted him to make love to you too. Even if you haven't done this before, knowing he hasn't done it neither made this all the more special. No matter that it's happening in the backseat of your car. You were nervous but you were ready, no matter if you're not experienced, he's not neither and that's all the more reason for you to be ready. You've both loved each other for years, so just getting him to finally return that love made some nervousness fly away.

"Then, let's not waste anymore time, Katsuki~."

He was surprised by your words, but his shit eating smirk returned as he didn't even bother taking off his shirt, and pulled it apart from his body. Your eyes widen from slight surprise, seeing how forceful and ready he was. As his toned body came into your view, his muscles flexed and tensed from the cold air that ghosted his skin. Bakugo was even more fit than you thought, his arms containing thick veins that made his body even more attractive. It just made him look stronger than he is. You didn't even know the sight of his veins would be a weakness for you.

"I didn't realize you'd be this needy for me, but I don't hate that."

His words were followed by him sitting on the other end of your carseat, his back against part of the door and seat while he sat back. You were confused as you sat your body up and looked at him, confusion spreading across your face from his actions. It's like he could read your mind and answered your question.

"I wanted to take my time with you but you seem like you really want me to fuck you. So, come on and take what you want~."

That embarrassed you and halted your body also of wanting him so badly. You did want him but when he put it like that, you couldn't stop how embarrassed you were.

"It's embarrassing when you put it like that, Katsuki!"

He chuckled and eyed you from his corner, his gaze only heightening your embarrassment. "Just strip, ____." He could see how you visibly tensed up from that, and he already knew what that was about. He smacked his teeth before continuing to talk, "Stop letting your past thoughts get in the way. There's nothing wrong with your body, I fucking love it. Don't even ask how I've already seen you naked, before.” You really wanted to know the answer to that. But it wasn't as important as this moment. You were just slowly pulling off your clothes, Bakugo watching you as he undid his belt. He pulled it from around his hips and dropped it upon the floor, his eyes boaring holes into you as you stripped.

"Okay, it was an accident. You invited me over to your place and I was looking for you. Shit, you know how quiet your shower is and when I went into your bathroom, you were stepping out of your shower and I saw everything. So before you ask, no I'm not a fucking creep." You chuckled, he looked so embarrassed that that had happened but you didn't mind. He was so cute. He saw how you stopped at just your shirt and underwear, but he didn't mind that. He knows how you feel about your body and wants you to be comfortable, so he had absolutely no problem with what you were doing. He snatched your body up and guided you to his lap, your body straddling him that embarrassed you.

"Look at me..." He spoke and you did as told and as you did, your heart melted from the soft smile that was plastered across his face, "...all of this..." He gestured to your stomach before placing a soft kiss agaisnt your belly, "...belongs to me. Don't be embarrassed, we're doing this together, not with anyone else." You didn't know Bakugo could go completely out of character because of you. He stared into your eyes the entire time he unbuttoned his pants, his arm wrapping around your body so he could lift you up as he lifted his hips to lower his pants enough to display his underwear that had a bulging tent in the front of them.

He... was so damn attractive to you, that you couldn't help how your body squirmed on top of him. His hands went to his crotch, letting your body lean against the carseat behind you while he fished himself from his boxers. You gulped from hearing it slap agaisnt his abdomen, but you couldn't bring yourself to look. "Come on, ____, look down. Unless you want it to be a surprise?" You didn't respond to that which enlightened a chuckle from him. He leaned forward to your ear and whispered into it, "I'm taking that as a yes~."

You could feel his hard length poke into your stomach from the position, poking into it and smearing the liquid of pre-cum against your abdomen that made you quiver. You were nervous as he lifted you up and pulled you agaisnt his chest, securely holding you with one arm as he gripped the base of his cock with the other and angled it to your anticipating hole. His hold on you tightened, once he began lowering you onto his throbbing cock, the tension in the air thickening as the thick tip seeked entrance on your virgin tight hole.

Bakugo wrapped his free arm around you while lowering you more, onto him, his breath catching from the feeling of your walls trying to swallow only his tip that could barely enter you correctly. You were so unready, that your walls didn't quite brace themselves for the thick tip protruding into your entrance, only to stop as a thick barrier kept the blonde haired male out of your body. The lump in your throat was harshly swallowed, once the male forcibly began prying open your insides that necessarily needed that force, if you both wanted this to genuinely happen.

But pain shot to your brain as he hit a thin barrier, the tightness worsening it which made you clamp your arms around the males neck, only for Bakugo to pull you against his chest and hold you to help you pacify the pain. "It hurts, huh..?" He questioned, knowing that he wanted to just plunge his entire throbbing length inside you, "Just try to calm down, ____. We're both taking part in this, so just relax and focus on me and not the pain." His voice always soothed you and took all the pain away, so it wasn't really hard to focus on only him even if you could still feel the pain that merely felt like a sting from a needle or a bee.

Even so, you still weren't naturally opening up to him which caused the male to softly start rutting his cock into one of your barriers, your teeth clamping down on his shoulder the more he moved. He was nearly losing his mind already, the squishy and gummy texture of your warm walls sucking a thick load of pre-cum from his trembling tip that made Bakugo practically moan out your name. He was so blinded by your gummy walls that he didn't realize your teeth punctured his skin, though, he couldn't control himself as he grasped your hips and began fucking himself up into you.

The pain wasn't as bad as before, slowly fading the more he drove himself into your sopping heat. You still couldn't speak, your grip on his shoulder only tightening the more he hammered into you. "Fuuuck, ____~!" His voice called out, which only made you clamp down tighter on the thick organ that was leaving and reentering your body for a desirable feeling that your body drooled over. He could literally feel your insides shaping to remember his thick cock, only his and that he will make sure of. You only belong to him and no one else and he wanted you, most importantly to know that.

His hands pushed your body against the front seat behind you, one of his hands going to hold your stomach down while his other traveled to your throat to apply pressure that caused an electrical nerve to shock every part of your body. Your eyes were closed shut, the dominance of him fucking desperately into you getting to your mind that nearly took over it. His eyes stared at your fucked out face with twin patches of pink painting his cheeks, your eyes sealed shut as your lips were parted.

You looked so erratic, riding his hard cock only for him to dominate you in the process. His face held the same expression as yours, pleasured and nearly taken out, only though his eyes were opened and focused on your body. The image of the woman he fell in love with caused his cock to already twitch, his veins pulsing along the skin of his cock which you could feel that transmitted a vibration through your walls and signaled for your cervix to clamp down on his cock. That partly stopped his movements, the males eyes closing as he sucked in a breathe before letting his hips move, once again. You've never felt anything as amazing as this, to be connected with the man of your dreams in such an intimate way.

"Katsuki..! I feel like- ngh~! I'm gonna explode!" You confessed, only getting a harsh snap of his hips in the process.

The blonde's hold on your throat tightened, only for him to pull your face closer to his where he licked the side of your cheek, "Then I'm gonna make you explode like dynamite!" His hand forced your head back into the seat, the pounding of his throbbing length increasing only for that pleasure to be added with an even greater sensation of his thick fingers rubbing harshly at your drooling pearl. He could feel how you tightened which made him squeeze harder on your throat, your hands going to his wrist as you felt your core throbbing and quickly trembling around his thick cock.

Your juices sloshed out, making Bakugo's eyes trail to your heat that swelled with every harsh thrust of his hips. The sensation was nearly too much, only pressuring your walls to release and your cervix nearly choke on his cock. "Damnit, I'm gonna fucking cum!" He sounded so angry about it, like he didn't want the experience to end which you could understand and agree with. You loved this feeling you were feeling with him, even though your body could hardly handle it.

"Katsuki, please~! I'm cumming!" You screamed, making the male wrap his arms securely around your body and practically fuse your bodies from how tight his hold was. Your cervix burst harshly agaisnt his cock, making Bakugo's eyes shut tightly and plant his face in your shoulder while you did the same from his harshly fucking cock.

"Damnit, ____!" The male shouted as his cock twitched inside you before shooting thick jets of cum into your womb, the sensation causing his and your toes to curl. "Fuck, I'm so fucking in love with you!"

His words were almost muffled but you heard him, "I... I love you too, Katsuki." You breathlessly moaned agaisnt his hard chest. And he wasn't lying, he was going to stay true to his word that he'd be the only hero to only protect and love you for however long you live. His hold on you loosened as he let your back fall agaisnt the front seat, again. Your bodies were drenched in sweat, his hold staying on your hips as he stayed buried inside of you. His eyes opened to meet your face, taking in your still fucked out expression.

"Wanna do this again, at your place?" Your eyes snapped open to look at his smirking... no, smiling face that stared into your eyes. "This time, we can go as many times as we want. And I fucking wanna go until morning."

Well, you were fucked quite literally . It would be an understatement to say that he was very good sexually, so you knew that in bed it would be a different story...

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This work was originally written by @compressingsins , if you see anything similar, please report it to me. 🫶🏾