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lemonbooties · 1 year ago

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5. Blood Oath | Choso ੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

by lemonbooties

Find my work on AO3, Wattpad and Quotev here!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Chapter 5. Reunion

You wasted no time burying your head into Choso's chest, crying loudly. You had been so concerned about Yuji seeing you cry the day before but here you were, on the streets of Harajuku wailing like a toddler. You felt Choso's arms around you, as well as Yuji's, as the brothers attempted to comfort you.

When your crying finally hushed to a few sniffles, you pulled away from your friends and noticed a few tears in Choso's eyes. He always cried whenever you or Yuji did. This time, he looked as if he was trying not to cry. You could tell he was only trying to appear put-together for you guys.

It took a lot of explaining on the train ride back to Jujutsu Tech, and a lot of tears, but you eventually had everyone on the same page. You decided not to mention your father's words to Choso as that was something you felt should be kept between yourself, Yuji, Choso and Yaga and you knew Fushiguro or Nobara could be listening in, curious about their new classmates.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful, aside from Nobara and Yuji bickering pretty intensely. You joined in occasionally, poking fun at your longtime friend and adding fuel to Nobara's arguments. After some good laughs with your new classmates, you started the track back to school and arrived in one piece.

Once back at your dorm, you said goodbye to your friends and made plans to meet in your room later so you and Yuji could talk to Choso about everything you knew so far. You had all avoided talking about the death surrounding you while on the train but you knew you'd need to tear that bandaid off soon.

You put your phone on charge before quickly changing into comfier clothes. Gojo had mentioned that the trip to Harajuku would be all for today so you planned on walking down to the shops and using some money you had saved for some new clothes and possibly a better pair of shoes since you only had your school shoes and the pair you had worn today.

You started the shower and went to gather all of your toiletries before realizing that Yaga, or maybe Ichiji, hadn't grabbed your shampoo but rather, two different conditioners. Yours and your mom's. You let out a sullen groan before opening the door to the hallway.

Nobara had been placed in the room across from you and you could hear music lightly playing from inside. You shuffled across the hall, your slippers scraping against the wood. You knocked on the door and after a few noises inside, Nobara opened the door.

"Hi." You started, taking in her appearance and what little of her room you could see. Her room already looked more settled in than yours. Turning your attention to her, Nobara had a fluffy headband on and had removed her makeup, a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. She hummed at you, prompting you to ask her what you needed so she could get back to her business.

"Sorry, I just noticed I have two conditioners and no shampoo." You nervously laughed. "Do you think I could use a bit of yours?" Your classmate nodded and moved aside, ushering you to come inside. She disappeared into her bathroom for a second before emerging with a shampoo bottle and no more toothbrush.

"Here. You can bring it back when you're done with it." You smiled and thanked her. You apologized for bothering her, which she dismissed with a slight wave of her hand. "Don't worry about it. Itadori did say that both of you came kind of late, last minute transfer or something. With sorcery, you kind of get dragged into it, am I right?" You laughed and agreed.

"Yeah, you can say that again."

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

After your much-needed shower, you ran the borrowed shampoo back to Nobara and thanked her again. You wanted to invite her shopping with you but you figured she was busy unpacking, plus she had already shopped earlier that day in Harajuku.

Next, you stopped by Fushiguro's room to ask if it was okay for you to leave and shop or if there was some rule against leaving or maybe even a process to leave campus. He said you were fine as long as someone was aware of your location, which he was. He gave you the okay and you thanked him as well before returning to your room.

Luckily, shopping went by without an event and you were able to return to your dorm with enough time to settle down before Yuji and Choso came over. You unpacked a few more things from your bags and finished one of them, right in time for the knock at your door. You shouted a quick, "coming!" and stood, making your way over to the entrance to your room.

You swung the door open and must not have disguised your disappointment well enough because Yaga looked down at you and remarked, "Not who you were expecting?" He had a slight smile on his face when you met his gaze, obviously finding this amusing. "Um-" You cleared your throat, "no sir, I was expecting Yuji and Choso. You lowered your head in a meek apology before looking up at him.

"It's alright, Y/N. I would like to speak with you about your father." You froze a bit, not expecting this to happen so soon. I mean, he does run an entire school. You expected your little chat about good ol' dad to kind of be on the back burner but it seems you were wrong. You nodded your head before going to grab your shoes. You figured you could stay in your comfy clothes as they weren't inappropriate at all.

Your body ran ice cold with anticipation as you closed your door behind you. You couldn't tell if you were nervous or scared, probably both. All you knew for sure is that you were definitely on edge. You picked at your nails to keep your hands occupied, looking at your hands and feet intently. You didn't even notice when you stopped in front of another room.

The strong knock from Yaga made you look up, curious as to who's room this was. You only knew where the first year's rooms were so you felt your stomach drop at the possibility of you meeting one of your upperclassmen.

This thought of the upperclassmen definitely scared you. Whereas Nobara and Fushiguro were experienced enough to actually participate in class, you still weren't the only one among the first years with no prior curse training or whatever they called it. Gojo had given a "cursed tool" to Yuji earlier so you were a bit relieved that you would never be defenseless as long as you had a weapon full of cursed energy. Maybe you could mention getting one to Yaga during your talk.

After a bit of shuffling behind the door, Yuji opened the door to your surprise. He greeted the principal before him, making sure to use the proper honorifics while addressing someone with a higher position. Yaga cleared his throat and asked a question that made your blood run cold, "Hello, Yuji. Is your brother here?"

Sorry for the extremely short chapter! I've had so much going on and this week, I've come down with tonsillitis, among other things :(

I made the decision to keep this chapter short as it was always meant to just be a set-up chapter and I was having a hard time bulking it up again after I lost a decent bit of the writing.

I do post updates like this to my Twitter (X) for any readers wanting to stay in the loop on updates and such! I try to keep other posts to a minimum so it isn't too hard to find info on my page.

The next chapter should be longer and I would like to have it up by next Friday but as I already delayed this chapter a bit, it may be pushed back. I will keep everyone updated when I know for sure <3

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

#choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #f!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #female reader #jjk #jjk choso #jjk fanfic

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beneath-the-irish-sky · 2 years ago

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June 10th

My alarm went off and I immediately got up to get ready. I cannot believe we were able to get tickets to this concert. It was sold out and we purchased two resold tickets by chance. I stopped over at my classmate's room for a few minutes to help her with her eyeliner and then we were off. This was going to be an epic adventure! Once at the bus station, we realized she forgot her phone charger so she could connect it to her battery pack. She was panicking, and so was I. We set out to find a charger. We stopped into every hotel and store, asking if they sold chargers. They did not have the kind that was needed. Luckily, right before we got on the bus she ran into a Centra and found the charger she needed!

While on the bus to the venue, I styled my hair for the concert and my classmate got some sleep. After a 45-minute ride we were there and had to prepare for the long walk ahead. By the time we found our section by the stage, we had 13,000 steps in already. It was so worth it though because we were in the third row of the pit. It also rained on and off but it didn't matter.

We arrived at Slane Castle at 10 am. It was beautiful and the land sprawled out as far as I could see. It would soon fill up with over 80,000 fans waiting to see Harry Styles take the stage on his Love Tour (picture 15). Harry wasn’t scheduled until 8pm. We enjoyed the music of Wet Leg, Inhaler, a DJ, and one of Harry's songwriters as we waited for him to take the stage. We caught glimpses of him standing outside the castle looking on as the crowd grew.

The long awaited intro music started and Harry Styles took the stage (pictures 1 - 10, 14). It was epic! His energy is so infectious and intoxicating. He was so close to us and he played music that I love but thought I wouldn't hear on this tour. He also played an unreleased song that is not played at many of his shows. He ended the show wrapping the Irish flag around him. Again, it was epic but the long walk back was not. After standing in the sun for 12 hours, we were tired and it was another 13,000-step journey to catch the first bus back and then the subsequent second bus. We finally arrived back at UCD at 2 am. A day to remember! One I probably wouldn’t have experienced in the States because of the rising cost of tickets. The tickets would have cost thousands more than the $300 we paid. Thank you Ireland!

June 11th

I woke up pretty late and in a lot of pain from the night before. So much walking and standing! The rush of the concert was still present as I got dressed to go to the Hurling Match. I think I may have underestimated the toll the journey would have on my body. I was so exhausted. I eventually got up and met with the group of five I was going to the game with.

We took the bus to the stadium in Dublin, where the match was being held. It was the Leinster Senior Hurling Championship . The Leinster Senior Hurling Championship started in 1888 after a man named Michael Cusack realized there needed to be one set of regulations in Hurling.

The match was so exhilarating (pictures 11 - 13). We sat in the front row and were right near one of the goals. The action was so close to us. We got to talking with a few fans from Galway, and they told us that Kilkenny wins every time. That made me root for Galway even more. I always like an underdog. Unfortunately, Kilkenny won but Galway played the game so well to stay in it for as long as they did. Right down to the last few seconds. I bought a t-shirt there to remember my time.

After the game, I was sunburnt and still so tired. I decided that I would go back to UCD and turn in early so I would be refreshed for the week ahead. I watched a movie, took a shower, returned the bag I borrowed from my classmate, and went to sleep.

June 12th

I woke up feeling refreshed today! I am ready for whatever this week brings and I am excited to visit Scotland this weekend. To prepare, we decided that we would each look into things to do in Edinburg on our own and then come together as a group to figure out what excursions we would book.

Today, I am supposed to meet up with my classmates to plan for a group project. We met and divided into two groups; me and the classmate I borrowed the bag from would work together, and the other three would be in their own group. We decided to do our 10-minute video on Hurling and the match we saw yesterday. We wrote out the entire script and then decided that we would film the next week when we had more time.

We all went our separate ways and got ready to attend the Irish Literature Class that we had that evening. Our teacher had described it as a pub crawl, and she was not wrong. We went from pub to pub, listening to our tour guide recite and sing passages and verses from various Irish books and folktales. He quoted stories from the Dubliners and took us to places that were mentioned in those stories. We were walking in history.

The night went by quickly. After the tour, we went back to one of the pubs for Baileys Cheesecake. Unfortunately, they were out so my classmate and I found something else to eat. After the pub, we went back to UCD, and I fell asleep quickly.

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makangerous · 7 months ago

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Fukuya Rank 2 (Temperance Confidant)

You receive a text message from Fukuya.

My lesson plan's finally ready! First lesson: recognizing golden opportunities and seizing them. Call me the next night you're free.

You call Fukuya over for tutoring. You invite him up to your room.

We're having the session in your room today? That's a wise idea. If everyone hears what I have to teach you, it will lose all its value. And if I can't make money off of this, I don't know how I'm going to keep funding my research…

>What research?

Oh, it's basically playing around with chemicals. Sometimes, I create slight poisons to cause temporary illness. But other times, I try to invent new products for the mass market. Cleaning solutions, soft drink formulations… really anything I can think of.

Well, let's get started. I had a whole lecture prepared, but you're my classmate. Lecturing you wouldn't be fun for either of us. But I do need to share a bunch of info with you. So, I'm going to give you one of those quick idea showcases. What are they called? Oh yeah, a TEDDIE talk! You don't have to take notes or anything. Just listen closely.

People make mistakes. You make mistakes, for sure. But other people always make more mistakes, dumber mistakes than yours. And the many acquaintances in your life each make many mistakes, and it piles up and gets so inconvenient. They're your friends' and family's problems, but they inevitably become yours. Or are they? You can turn around other people's misfortune to your benefit! The trick is to take the time they're having to use to fix their mistakes and spend it on yourself. For example, imagine we're in homeroom. Miss Kawakami forgets the flyers she's supposed to hand out in the teacher's lounge. She needs to step out of class for a bit in order to retrieve them. What do you do?

>Wait patiently for her.

You'd really sit there and twiddle your thumbs the whole time? What if another teacher pulls her into a conversation and sidetracks her? What if it ends up taking half an hour? You would end up doing something you want to do, right? Such as reading a book, or building an incendiary device.

Let's use a less obvious example now. There's rain in the forecast, but your friend neglected to bring an umbrella. Of course, it starts pouring the second you two leave the school gates. You have an umbrella. There's three main choices you can make. One, you give your umbrella to your friend. He's grateful, but now you're soaked. You'll have to spend extra time at home drying your clothes and shoes, and you probably won't feel well. Two, both of you can stand under your umbrella. At the cost of a little bit of personal space, you both stay dry. He's happy, society's happy. But no one ever seriously considers choice three. You tell him the rain isn't your problem. He'll have to find his own umbrella. He can find someone else to borrow from, wait inside until the rain stops, or buy one from a store. He might be upset with you, but he'll forget eventually. And you have some quiet time to yourself…

Oh, I'm not trying to say anything bad about your friends. It's a hypothetical. But see? The selfless option isn't always the best one. It takes a while to overcome what society tells us is the right choice, though. Tell you what. You need some time for yourself? I just got a new doctor's note that says the teacher must escort me to the nurse's office every time I'm sick in class. I might have a few more "incidents" in Kawakami's class. I get to skip boring lectures, and you'll get some unsupervised free time. Sound good?

Ugh, I have another client paging me. Why now, of all times? Well, I have to duck out. See you in class.

Late at night, your phone rings when you're alone in your room.

You paid attention during my talk earlier, right? I do hope so, since I have another quiz for you. I bet you're rolling your eyes. But what kind of teacher would I be if I didn't check your understanding of the material? So tell me, what's the secret to finding more free time?

>Have a fake doctor's note.

Well, yes. But was that the only part you listened to? I mean, I suppose I don't care as long as I get your money. In fact, only paying attention to what immediately pertains to you allows you to selfishly zone out, so maybe you did absorb the lesson.

That talk was just the beginning, you know. Next session we'll--

[crash]

Ow, shit! Frickin' desk. Who the hell put this here?! …Wait, I moved it, didn't I? Can't believe I forgot again… The stupid desk in my bedroom jumped out of nowhere and hit me in the shin! Like I don't already have enough problems. I've got to go lie down. I'll text you the next lesson's topic once I clear my head. Read it as soon as you get it, and let me know when I can come collect that sweet, sweet tutoring fee. Goodbye.

#fanfic #fanfiction #confidant #oc #persona 5 #persona 5 female protagonist confidants #p5 #p5r

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slasherscream · 4 years ago

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Hi I don’t know if you write for Thomas Hewitt or Vincent Sinclair but if you do you could you please make some headcanons about them and the other slashers like if they got into a fight with their s/o and how it would go, what it would be about, and how they would make up with their s/o please? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to. But if you do then thank you so much!

fighting with the slashers

A/N: i do write for vincent (on a related note i also write for bo and maybe lester i haven’t tried him out yet)!

vincent sinclair

You didn’t stay put when Vincent told you to and you got hurt.

You hadn’t planned to leave. Until the sun started to go down and no one came back to the house to check up on you the way they so often do when there are visitors in town.

You are Ambrose’s second best kept secret. Alive because Vincent took one look at you and couldn’t bare to hurt you. And though Bo gripes about you he couldn’t tell Vincent no. Not when Bo saw the way Vincent held you behind him, head lowered but shoulders set, ready to actually fight him on something for once in their lives.

So you’re kept in the house when there are people around. Other than not being able to leave it’s your only real rule. Vincent wants you to have no part in the more grisly aspects of the town and Bo and Lester honor his wish.

But the town is dead silent and no one has come to check on you. Most times Lester even comes to stay with you like some sort of babysitter. It used to irritate you, despite your fondness for the youngest brother. Now without him there your hands shake, and your eyes wander, and your ears burn as if pumping extra blood there will make you hear better. But there’s nothing to be heard. No screams. No cries. No Bo shouting. No guns going off.

So you leave the house, searching for one of them. Instead you’re found by a survivor and held hostage in front of the twins.

You all stand still for a long while, the victim not knowing what to do and the boys unable to move due to the knife digging into your neck, already drawing blood.

Lester had been the one to save you, sneaking up behind your captor and stabbing them. You ran to Vincent on shaking legs and he gathered you into his arms, moving to take you back home. You could hear the screams of the man who’d almost killed you ringing through the streets behind you and shivered.

Vincent had cleaned your cut in silence and somehow had managed to barely touch you. Before you could blink he’d shut himself into his workshop and you were left alone until Bo came home and chewed you out.

You kept yourself busy cleaning and then prepared for bed, knowing it would be awhile before Vincent would come and join you. The sleep didn’t come easy as you were still shaken up, but eventually it came.

You woke in the middle of the night to an empty bed and realized that if you didn’t go to get him Vincent wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

You walk drowsily through Ambrose’s underbelly, the smoldering heat not doing you any favors, until you arrive at Vincent’s workshop where he’s hunched over his desk, unmoving.

Not wanting to startle him you call his name quietly and you see his head tilt in acknowledgement but he doesn’t turn to look at you.

Slowly you move until your front is resting against his back, even slower your arms encircle him and you kiss his shoulder, feeling guilty at the tension laying dormant in them. “I’m sorry, Vince. I was just worried about you so... so I left the house. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I won’t do it again.”

He turns and there’s a pause, and then he moves his hands, fluid but slow. They’re shaking despite how strong you know they are. He tells you how he can’t lose you. How he loves you. He asks you to promise him that next time you’ll listen and you do, and you mean it.

It’s only then that he pulls you into his lap and holds you tightly. You think he’s crying behind his mask but you just hold him back equally as tight and whisper I’m sorry against his steady pulse.

pelle

He doesn’t like the company you keep.

He has a plan. He has a plan to take you away from this strange, uncaring world that doesn’t deserve you. That doesn’t love you or care about you. If he sticks to the plan everything will be so easy.

But sometimes Pelle loves you too much to bite his tongue.

He can see it clearly, your perfect future where he takes care of you, and his family takes care of you, and you let them do it, and you’re happier for it; but you don’t live in that perfect future, you live in the frigid, imperfect present.

Here you stay up late in the night to help a friend finish a term paper when last week they didn’t even call when you were sick. You gave a classmate your umbrella to borrow a month ago, and today you come back shaking from the rain because they never bothered to return it.

A thousand little kindnesses that the world outside the Hårga spit on.

He knows that all these moments of careless apathy towards you will only strengthen the draw you’ll feel when you finally meet his family.

You have the heart of a Hårga and he knows that you’ll feel that connection.

Still, the way the outside world, the way your friends and family slight you at every turn, makes his blood run hot. He’s never felt anger like this before. It is all consuming and yet he must stomach it alone.

And so his tongue is careless sometimes. He asks in tones that he shouldn’t use with you “you’re going out with them again?” and “but didn’t they-?” and still he is angry. The words do not ease the feelings because they do not fix the problem.

Pelle must lead you into the arms of his family and their way of life. He cannot push you. But he doesn’t know how not to take care of you.

He wants to beat away the leeches and moths that cling to your light and whisk you away to home where the sun will warm you with its love.

Your fights are gentle, and so you might never refer to them as fights when people ask you if you ever argue with Pelle.

There is no yelling, or balled fists, or the animal sensation of fight or flight. He leads you to sit down with him and holds your face in his hands. Unthinkingly you mimic the gesture and he smiles at you lovingly. One kiss and he tells you that he doesn’t like your friends. Another and he says that you deserve better, deserve the world.

You try to get a word in edgewise, to deny the claims he makes, to tell him that they really do care about you, but the words are smothered by his soft lips. He kisses you until your brain goes somewhere loved and numb. He slips your coat off of your shoulders and pulls you close. He keeps you there until you forget that you had anywhere to be besides his arms.

You and Pelle don’t fight.

chucky and tiffany

Tiffany is used to Chucky being a piece of shit. You are not.

Upside to fighting with Chucky is that Tiffany is immediately on your side, even if you’re in the wrong (I’m joking it’s always Chucky’s fault.)

Downside is that the whole house is now up in fucking chaos.

chucky: tiff where are my fucking keys?

tiffany: in hell! why don’t you go and grab them?

You appreciate her fighting spirit but she’s really going in on y’all’s man.

Which is not to say that Chucky doesn’t deserve it. Because he does deserve it, but you know from personal experience that being on Tiffany’s bad side is scary.

Why are you and Chucky fighting? Chucky is an insensitive asshole, and even the toughest skin isn’t bullet proof.

The aftermath of whatever Chucky did is a lot of sullen silence from you; the sounds of a knife chopping a little too loudly in the kitchen from Tiff; and loud bits of huffing and puffing from Chucky as he stomps around the house.

At first he thinks he can just wait out your anger until you start missing him. It used to work with Tiffany all the time!

But this relationship involves three people. You’re not so quick to get desperately lonely, especially if Tiffany isn’t the partner you’re fighting with. Do you miss Chucky? Sure. Do you miss him enough to let him be an asshole just to get some cuddle time in on the couch? As if! Tiffany is the better cuddler anyway.

The man child is going to have to say sorry and mean it.

Of course this means that your relationship is going be sans-Chucky for at least a week.

Tiffany reaches the breaking point before Chucky does. Obviously more in-tune with your feelings she can tell how much the fight is getting to you and no one messes with her sweetheart! Not even Chucky.

You’re going to hear her delicately clearing her throat, look up from your phone, and find Tiffany holding Chucky at fucking knife point.

tiffany: do you have anything to say, chucky?

chucky, trying to decide if he’ll let tiffany kill him just to prove a point: ....

tiffany: i’ll start with your dick-

chucky: i’m sorry! are you fucking hAPPY?!

You’re gonna be like no!!! I do not accept the apology you gave me under extreme duress! At which point you turn over in bed and pull the covers over your head.

You’ll hear rapid-fire whispering and then the bed dips behind you. A knee presses into your back, and kisses are pressed carelessly to where your head should be beneath the covers. Then, finally, the quietest “I didn’t mean it, doll.” as he pulls the blanket back in order to look at your face.

You’re stopped dead by the softness on his face. By the softness he let’s you see, even if it’s only for a moment. It might not be the words I’m sorry but it sounds like them. It sounds like an I miss you, as well.

When you drop your phone and throw your arms around his neck, touching him for the first time in a week, Chucky sighs in relief.

Not ten seconds passes before Tiffany has thrown herself over the both of you, suffocating you in her loving embrace. Just like that, balance is restored in the Lee Ray-Valentine household. For now.

#vincent sinclair x reader #chucky x reader #tiffany valentine x reader #pelle x reader #tiffany valentine x reader x chucky #slasher x reader #charles lee ray x reader #bride of chucky #house of wax #not my first thing for vincent being sad adjifjd #the juxtaposition between vincent's part of this post and the poly tiff and chucky part??#fill.

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maria-akira · 4 years ago

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good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader

—♡—

READ PART 2 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he has to (fake) date you. if he falls in love again, he loses and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: private school au, fuckboy!michael, slight mention of sexual topics + i didnt proofread this mwahaha

this fic is inspired by the song 'good girls (don't get used)' by beach bunny.

i don't know if other private schools have bells, because mine doesn't :(

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song. but in this chapter, there are none since this is like an intro :)

—♡—

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"Are you kidding? She really said that?"

"You really think that's gonna happen?"

"Who's class do you have first?"

Voices of different students flooded the white and grey hallways of the school. Different friend groups and teachers can be seen roaming the halls, getting stuff from their respective lockers as they waited for the bell to ring.

"Y/N! Do you mind if I borrow your calculator? I forgot mine at home and Math is my next class." She said while panting.

"Sure, here it is. If you lose it, I'd probably drop kick your ass." Y/N let out a small laugh and grabbed the calculator from her locker, giving it to her friend.

"Gosh, Y/N. I'll never lose it! I'll give it back during recess. Thanks again!" She flashed Y/N a smile and waved bye, before returning to her locker.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror she had on her locker, fixing the tie that always seemed to be out of place whenever she checked. Her hair was neat, complete with a white headband that complimented the color of her school's uniform.

A few seconds later, the bell rang and everybody started rushing. Different couples were seen kissing before they parted ways for the mean time.

Cringe. Y/N thought. She shrugged it off and held her books tightly to her chest, walking to her next class.

Walking straight into the classroom, she noticed a group of guys dart their eyes to her direction as she entered. They gave her weird smirks. In return, she stared back at them while she made her way to her seat and never broke eye contact. Eventually, she noticed a familiar face among the group.

Michael, her ex.

How the fuck is he in my English class? She thought, along with a whole hundred thoughts roaming around her head. Michael stared back at her, giving her a wink.

Y/N's face gave a hint of disgust, "The fuck do you want, Langdon?" She stood up from her seat and walked over to Michael, pushing his other friends. She heard his friends coo and tease Michael for his act towards her.

Michael put up his hands in defense, "Chill, is it bad to wink at a pretty girl like you?" He said with a smug look, while he grazed his hand over her arm.

"Shut the fuck up, Langdon. Don't you ever touch me." Y/N slapped his hand away, his friends taken aback from her actions. As she walked back to her seat, the teacher entered as well.

Y/N put her face in her hands. By now, a million thoughts were in her head. It's been 2 years since Michael and her broke up, and since then, she made a promise to herself that she would never fall in love with men like him. She was so tired of all the tears and sleepless nights that Michael gave her.

She let out a sigh and lifted her head from her hands. The soft light from the windows filled her eyes after the darkness formed by her hands, causing her to rub her eyes to adjust from the light.

The rest of the hour went smoothly for Y/N, after English class was recess, her most favorite time of the day— aside from going home, of course.

She glanced at her watch, 10:28 AM.

2 more minutes, and English will be over. She thought.

She averted her gaze back on the white board full of scribbles about some writing lesson she clearly did not listen to. She looked over to her classmates and friends, Well they aren't listening either. She laughed at the thought.

As soon at the bell rang, everyone started packing up their notebooks, textbooks, and whatever they had on their table. Every student was seen rushing out of every classroom in hopes of being the first ones in line for the cafeteria.

On the way there, Y/N bumped into her friend group. "Hey Y/N! We heard about happened in English class. Michael is really in your class?" A friend of hers mentioned, "Yea, and apparently that son of a bitch winked at me, such a disgusting ass motherfucker. he should keep his fuck boy ass to himself." Y/N spat out, earning a chorus of 'oh's' from her friends.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the line was painfully long, all of them groaned in frustration and they had no choice but to wait for the line to move. But once it did, it was faster than usual. After Y/N and her friends received their food, they left the cafeteria to eat at their usual place.

The school rooftop.

A few students know that staying in the school rooftop is permitted, which was why Y/N and her friends loved eating there.

When they arrived at the rooftop, they saw the usual people that they always encounter while staying there. The view was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. The small garden in the rooftop gave a beautiful and elegant touch.

Though there were a few chairs and tables, Y/N and her friends always preferred to eat on the floor. So, they laid the linen cloth on the ground and sat on it. Y/N was wearing the skirt uniform, thus she removed her tux and placed it on her legs to prevent her skirt from lifting.

They shared a few giggles while they ate their meals, laughing about some life experiences, or whatever they wanted to talk about.

Y/N loved this. She loved how she and her friends would have little moments like these, it was like an escape from reality.

The rest of the day went smoothly for Y/N. She didn't fall asleep in any of her classes, which in this case was a very big accomplishment for her.

As soon as she arrived home, her little brother, Aaron, rushed towards her. "Y/N!! I missed you!" He chimed, Y/N kneeled down onto his level and gave him the tightest hug. "I missed you too, Aaron!" Her mom came into the room and smiled. Y/N stood up and gave her mom a hug as well.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, Y/N placed her tux on the coat hanger by the door. "It was fine, Mom. Where's Dad?" Y/N walked over to the fridge and poured herself a glass of milk, "He'll be home soon, he still has a meeting right now." She took a sip of her milk, "Oh, okay. I'll be upstairs doing school work." The glass of milk that was once full, now empty.

She took her things upstairs and plopped herself on the bed. Out of nowhere she felt a vibrating noise from her bag, she rummaged through her bag to find her phone and once she did, a message was see on her lockscreen.

Unknown Sender has sent you a message.

She unlocked her phone and went to her messages.

Unknown Sender: hey ;)

Her eyebrows furrowed. What the fuck?

(Y/N): hi? whos this?

read 2:29 pm

Unknown Sender: oh shit you deleted my number? damn.

"Huh? I don't recall deleting anyone's number..." She went to her recently deleted contacts and it showed nothing.

(Y/N): im sorry, i haven't deleted anyone's number recently, maybe you have the wrong number?

read 2:32 pm

Unknown Sender: im pretty sure you know me, Y/N.

They know my name. And her heart started pounding.

(Y/N): and im pretty sure i dont, so just reveal yourself before i report this number

read 2:35pm

Unknown Sender: ayo chill 😬 its me michael.

"Michael fucking Langdon? You've got to be fucking me right now." She felt rage fill her, slamming her keyboard.

(Y/N): langdon what the fuck do you want? i made it very clear that i dont want you talking to me.

read 2:40 pm

Before Michael could reply, she changed his contact name to 'Motherfucker'

You have changed Unknown Sender's contact name as 'Motherfucker'

Motherfucker: damn you still mad at me after 2 years? gosh (Y/N). whats with the nickname?

(Y/N): of course im still mad, asshole. ill never forget what you fucking did.

read 2:43 pm

Motherfucker: i thought you forgave me 🥺

(Y/N): FORGIVE YOU???? god langdon you're so fucking stupid, i will never forgive you. you didnt even say sorry in the first place!

Pissed off, Y/N blocked his number. "That fucking asshole." She mumbled to herself.

—

"Hey! Y/N!" A familar voice called out from the crowd. Y/N removed one earbud and turned around to find the voice that called her.

Once she saw the shiny blonde locks from that stood out in the crowd, she immediately ran in the opposite direction in hopes of avoiding him.

It was Michael, again.

"Y/N wait!" Michael called out again, chasing her

For some reason, Michael was able to catch her. He pulled Y/N into an empty science laboratory and they were both panting.

"What the fuck do you want this time, Langdon?" Y/N was catching her breath, fanning herself with her hand.

"Okay. First off, sorry for the sudden message. I know I pissed you off and that wasn't my intention at a—"

"What was your intention then?" She cut him off.

Michael panicked.

"Uh, you know? I just wanna talk to you again. Clear the bad air between us.."

Y/N let out a laugh, "Clear the bad air?? Oh gooood Langdon, you are really so stupid! You know what? You just made it worse." She pushed him off and walked out of the room,

"Whatever it is your planning, Langdon, I'm telling to stop it. I don't wanna talk to you or even go near you."

Michael was dumbfounded. She changed so much. He thought to himself.

2 years ago, Y/N was the sweetest, most innocent girl he knew. Playing with her feelings was Michael's biggest regret, and he's starting to feel it again.

Michael was about to leave the room until he felt a buzzing from his pocket, He pulls out his phone to see who was calling him.

Duncan, one of his bestfriends.

Michael answered the call, "Hello?"

"What's the update on your little girl?"

"She still doesn't trust me."

"That's sad man."

"I know. She changed alot. "

"What do you mean by 'changed'?" Duncan emphasized,

"I can't point it out, Dunc."

"Whatever you do, don't chicken out. I promise this bet is worth it."

"Fine, I trust you."

Call Ended.

Michael ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and left the room before the bell rang.

—

It was the last subject of the day. Most students were falling asleep or on their phones.

Y/N was scribbling weird things on the back of her notebook, when suddenly the bell rang. She packed up her stuff and stood up from her seat. Before she could leave the room, she saw a familiar face again.

Michael stood by the doorway of her classroom, the strap of his bag over one shoulder while he looked for Y/N among the other students.

Y/N ignored Michael and walked past him, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him.

"Langdon! What the fuck do you want?!" She screamed, all of the students averting their attention to her.

Michael put a finger on his lips, shushing her. "Let's go somewhere private, yea?"

"But—"

Before she could object, Michael dragged her outside towards the parking lot.

"Okay this is actually something serious—"

"CUT THE SHIT LANGDON! IM TIRED OF YOU."

"Woah‐woah! Easy now. I actually need your help, with school..."

Michael rubbed her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. For once, Y/N believed him. His eyes were speaking the truth.

"Okay, fine. Shoot."

"I can't believe I'm saying this.."

"Don't waste my time, Langdon."

"Fine! I'm failing."

Y/N's mouth hung open. Michael was one of the top students in their batch and this was obviously a huge surprise for her.

"Oh, really? What am I gonna do about that?" She crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

"Can you please help me? Like, tutor me?" At this point, Michael was desperate.

"Um, no thanks. Just fuck some other girl's pussy for your grades." Y/N pushed him away, but Michael stopped her again.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I really need your help."

"Why me?"

Now that made Michael nervous.

"Because you happen to be the top of our batch right now?"

"Fine! Under one condition."

Michael was curious, "What?"

"If I do this tutor shit, we're doing it at my place. I can't tutor you in your messy ass room." Y/N said. She always remembered how messy Michael's room was when they were together. He would only clean when he was scolded by Y/N.

"That's fine by me."

"Okay then. 5pm, sharp."

She walked away, but Michael pulled her again.

"Let me go! What do you want now?" Y/N said, clearly annoyed.

"Unblock my number, silly." Michael chuckled,

"No."

"How are you supposed to know if I already arrived?"

"Theres a doorbell, dimwit. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

"Bu—"

"Bye, Michael. I'll see you later." Y/N flashed him a small smile and continued to walk away.

Once he saw Y/N reach the bus stop, he started walking to his car, until someone tapped him on his shoulder.

"Hey Michael, whats the update? I saw you talking to her." It was Duncan. His brown hair was lightly gelled back and the first two buttons of his white dress shirt were undone.

"I'm still trying to win her back, I lied to her that I was failing so she could tutor me. That way, it'll be easier."

Duncan smirked, "That's my boy! When will this tutor thing start?"

"Later, 5pm."

"Hmm, that's good. Remember, if you fall in love again, bet's over."

"I won't."

—♡—

tags mwah: @kitwalker02 @sojournmichael @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs

i hope you guys enjoyed this. i wrote this while doing schoolwork </3

#michael langdon imagines #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs x reader #american horror story #ahs #ahs 8 #ahs 9 #ahs smut #cody fern imagines #cody fern x reader #duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #michael langdon smut #duncan shepherd smut #american horror story 9 #xavier plympton imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagines

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haikyuuishete · 5 years ago

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Heartbroken to moving on|| Headcanons

Synopsis: He breaks your heart and you move on

Angst

Oikawa and Kuroo

Pt2

Oikawa:

He loved you but to him everything was a game, he didn’t take you serious or the relationship

He dismissed all the love you gave him

Pushed you away (too busy for you)

Even though you supported him and his volleyball career (it wasn’t enough for him)

He met a fan girl at a game that you didn’t attend

She was pretty, to extent of her being confident to flirt with him knowing he was dating you

He forgot that he was dating you, she gave him his number to call her

Which he did after he got home only to end up in his room with her, together

In his self conscious he knew it was wrong but the girl he was with made it so good that it was just right

He told Iwaizumi who lashed out at him for doing that, Oikawa listened but he kept doing it behind your back either way

It was fun he said

He eventually told you, he acted so confident about it, it broke you that he never loved you

He did but he didn’t show it

He apologized about his actions but never told you to stay which you hoped he did but never happened

You didn’t break down in front of him but looked at him in disappointment, you cared and loved him only for him to do this to you?

You didn’t even say anything but walked away because if you did you would’ve broken down to the point of hitting him

You had to cry it out before shutting him out from your memories, forgetting that he existed

You were broken, he knew that but he would brush it off and go on with his life

You started to dislike him little by little, you just stopped loving him

You went to his games for the last time to fully move on from him, it was a very cold night

You forgot to bring your jacket, “hey do you want to borrow my jacket?” You turned around to me a volleyball player with silver hair who was smiling sweetly at you

“thank you” “no problem” he smiled shyly “can I get your name?”

It didn’t take long for Oikawa to feel the darkness that was waiting for him along the way

He felt cold in a way that you couldn’t describe it , the feeling of being loved wasn’t there anymore

He didn’t even realize that he kept thinking about you, missing you

He would secretly watch you pass by only feel the coldness radiating from you, almost like he never existed made his heart clench

He would be staring at your silhouette for too long

It didn’t take long for him to burst out in tears for you, crying himself to sleep when he realized how much he missed you

He needed your hugs kisses anything you could give him

He screwed up and it hurts to see you walk away not even acknowledging his presence

It took a month of pain to even function right, only to see you with someone else in the end

He watched you fall in love with someone else, watched you smile at this person who deserved it, watched how you held and kissed him tenderly, it made it worse knowing it was Sugawara; a guy that would treat you better, a person who would never dare to hurt you

Oikawa shut himself up in shame and in disgrace of what he did to you to the point locking himself in his room, Iwaizumi always got in and comforted his friend from crying to point his eyes was blood shut red

To gripping his phone as he stared at your picture

If he was a better person you would’ve been next to him

“Iwa do you think she could forgive me one day?”

Kuroo:

He was a good boyfriend that any girl could ask for

He treated you so well

Sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve him, he was just perfect

It didn’t last long not until Nekoma’s new manager appeared

She was gorgeous every team and guy wanted her; she was nice almost pure

She caught Kuroo’s attention; not only she was the team’s manager but his classmate

He got closer to her and had more things in common with her than you

Their friendship blossomed to the point it made you jealous

He would always make sure you were happy telling you he loved you and she was just a friend

She got closer to him and he got closer to her to the point of hanging out, even at her house

He didn’t dare cheat on you, he would never do that to you

But he did fall in love with his manager, but never had the heart to cheat on you

He and his manager wanted him to break up with you so it wouldn’t hurt you; she was being nice about it

It took months for him to actually have the courage to break up with you; you weren’t dumb either you knew he fell out of love with you

When he actually told you the truth you broke down a bit, sitting on the pavement close to your house

“I’m sorry y/n I’m truly am” he kept holding your hands “I can’t ask you to stay when she’s waiting for you Kuroo, just go to her” you voiced out weakly

Weeks of crying and moping around, your heart kept breaking into so many pieces seeing them together, happily

Took months to finally calm yourself down, “hey do you need help?” You were trying to reach a textbook high on the shelf “can you?”

“Of course” Your classmate smiled beautifully

Your recovery of healing, your classmate was one of a kind to be honest, someone that was willing to take your pain away

Kuroo was feeling empty with his new girlfriend, to the point he would walk away from her

He would walk home alone, wondering if you already ate

Before realizing you weren’t his anymore which made him ball his fists in anger and in saddness

He wouldn’t get sleep either, which made Yaku scold him

He felt lonely, the warmth you gave him that would always make him blush and smile stupidly wasn’t there anymore

He missed you to the point of running back to you, to beg for forgiveness

It stopped him from doing it seeing you kiss your new boyfriend on the streets bidding goodbye to each other

Broke him to the point he could never go back

He was stuck in his own little world where you two were still together, to wake up next to you smiling and teasing each other

It was his fault for thinking he fell out of love with you

He would never show these emotions to his teammates; Kenma isn’t dumb he knows

It took something like losing a game to make him break

He couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted to be in your arms

“Y/n!” He shouted tackling you into a hug in the dark halls of the gym

He cried so loud whispering his apologies, begged you to stay to come back

“It wouldn’t be fair to him Kuroo, it wouldn’t be fair for me either” He trembled in your arms as he tried to make you stay

“Tell me that you love me” he whispered

“just this once” he asks in a broken voice

“Lie to me” he gripped on to your sweatshirt, the only thing he could hold on to at the moment

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu nekoma #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #kuroo x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu aoba johsai #oikawa tooru #oikawa headcanons #oikawa angst #kuroo angst #oikawa scenarios #kuroo scenarios

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aliensunflower-fics · 5 years ago

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The Liar Trap: A Lila Salt Prompt

You expect me to believe that after Lila gets Marinette expelled that Marinette would just leave that alone? Marinette the girl who made a tamper proof DIARY box?? Yeah I don't think so years of Chloe messing with her and her things, Lila proving to be the same kind of bully, and then of course the added paranoia of hiding Tikki and a secret identity everyday should mean that Marinette is some kind of bully prepper from hell. So I present to you my idea:

Lila’s first attacks were when Marinette was unprepared Chloe had been getting soft lately choosing words over playing dirty the change had been brought on partially by Adrien and partially because Chloe and Sabrina were tired of falling prey to Marinette’s traps. And with the threat of Chloe diminished Alya and others had been able to convince Marinette to disarm her many safety precautions. But then sure enough along came Lila to exploit those weaknesses and exploit them she had! Marinette had been EXPELLED and even if the issue was eventually cleared up Marinette was back on the warpath!

By next monday her old traps were back up and new ones were being drafted. Everything from her bag to her sketchbook to her special art room locker had been fortified and prepared. Marinette had no doubt Lila would lay low for a while but eventually she would coil herself to strike again and when she did she would be caught in Marinette’s traps. Until then all she had to do was prepare and take lessons on composure and remaining calm reacting harshly to Lila’s lies would serve only to bury her; she needed a cool head to deal with the liar. And luckily Kagami was an amazing teacher and a devious friend with many suggestions of her own on how to handle Lila effectively now all Marinette had to do was wait.

It took Lila 2 weeks to make her next move the plan was simple enough, the liar had snagged Alya’s phone and planned to wait until Alya was frantic before ‘helpfully’ pointing out she'd seen it in Marinette’s school bag hopefully the whole thing would build tension between the pair and distrust for Lila to feed on. Only that never happened, stage 1 acquiring the phone was easy but it was during stage 2 slipping it in Marinette’s bag during class that she hit failure as her thin thieving hands were suddenly met with a SNAP upon entering Marinette’s bag. The trap was simple, a design loosely based on your everyday mouse trap only softened so it didn’t hurt QUITE as much after all Marinette didn't need Lila actually getting hurt. But still it hurt enough and was shocking enough that the little liar screamed disrupting class.

Now it was time for Kagami’s lessons to come into play. As Lila revealed her hand and wailed about Marinette’s bag attacking her, the baker keeps a calm head amid the confusion and accusations and “what the heck Marinette!” She explains that after being framed for cheating on the last test and her PAST experiences (At that everyone glances at Chloe) she decided to make her bag tamper proof. Lila is quick to accuse Marinette of bias against her as she tries to save face but Marinette just hides a smirk as Alya and everyone are quick to assure Lila that it isn't her but someone else (Chloe) that Marinette is accusing with the class firmly on her side Marinette frees Lila’s hand and tells the italian that next time she needs to borrow a pencil she should simply ask first. Furious Lila reveals her last card, Alya’s phone! And how it was in Marinette’s bag! Instead of an uproar or Marinette scrambling to defend herself Alya hugs Marinette and thanks her, apparently the blogger losing her phone is a common occurrence and its standard protocol for someone in class to pick it up and give it to her later. Score One: Marinette.

In the following weeks similar incidents occur. Lila manages to break into Marinette’s locker thinking the flimsy looking lock was the only thing holding her back only to find herself covered head to toe in cheap sticky glitter paint! Lila throws a fit and Marinette feigns concern that the art supplies she brought were so precariously placed she apologizes and kindly offers to make Lila a new outfit and then makes a point to ask in an innocent and confused tone that EVERYONE can hear just what Lila was doing in her locker in the first place? Lila gets her paws on Marinette’s sketchbook dreaming of stealing the girls designs and framing her? Tough luck she opens the sketchbook to an artfully crafted pop-up mocking her failure and every other page is empty! She goes after Marinette’s precious designs in the school art room? This time it's latex paint that falls on her. Dump coffee on Marinette? Somehow everything important is in waterproof cases and now the cutest guy in school (yes even cuter than Agreste) is offering Marinette his sweater so she can finish up the school day without an emergency home visit and hey is she free for the school dance? Steal her purse? Strangely enough, she gets seemingly cursed with bad luck and ends up caught red handed by Alix and Max and getting a REAL sprained wrist!

And during every single incident Marinette is calm and forgiving and understanding and apologetic. She has answers for every accusation and is quick to turn whatever she can around after all why IS Lila looking in her locker? Why is she in the art room alone going through Marinette’s stuff!? Why does she clearly have one of Marinette’s sketchbooks in her bag? That’s the third thing she spilt on Marinette this month! The final piece is Marinette’s purse and the plague of bad luck it brings Lila the moment she snatches it suddenly everyone is a LOT more suspicious, because before? Well it could just be coincidence or bad luck or any of the other many excuses Lila had come up with but this time was different and Alix and Max were witnesses. Now everyone is keen to keep an eye on Lila, and with them paying closer attention they start to notice how easily and how often Lila is to blame Marinette for things, or how she casually and ‘helpfully’ (accuses) points out that Marinette of being a bad friend, or a ‘bully’.

Now how does Lila get exposed? There are options, maybe she gets caught red handed by the now observant classmates and this time she cant lie out of it. Maybe after all her failures to destroy her at school Lila tries to lie her way into the bakery only to learn the traps in Marinette’s room are worse. Maybe she gets careless in her frustration. Maybe Tikki’s residual bad luck from when Lila snagged the purse follows Lila ruining her. Or maybe now that everyone has a closer eye on Lila they realize how she targets Marinette how her friendly advice is needlessly harsh how her honey laced words don't sound QUITE right so eventually they all treat Lila like a friendly acquaintance but never trust her words eventually Lila snaps in frustration or maybe she just moves on. But no matter what happens the class apologize to Marinette and they work to be better friends the kind of friend Kagami turned out to be during the entire Lila ordeal, loyal trusting relying on honest communication to work through hardships.

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#my fic #ml salt prompt #ml salt #lila salt #lila salt prompt

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sigillaria-svt · 4 years ago

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Notes from the Moon (University AU)

Pairing: Moon Junhui x Reader

Word Count: 5,637

Warning: None

Genres: fluff, secret admirer, bestfriend!Minghao, female reader

Synopsis:

Throughout his college life, Junhui has been contented with admiring from afar. It didn’t matter to him that she wasn’t aware, or that nothing was between them except a friendly acquaintance. However, Minghao knew deep inside that Junhui wanted to start moving forward, and thus he provided the starting ground for a series of secret notes that would end up becoming the seed to building Junhui’s confidence.

Junhui wasn't entirely sure when it all started. On his first day in college, he barely knew anyone except Minghao who he went to high school with. He couldn't remember the names of his classmates after they introduced themselves. However, there was one person that made a strong impression on him. Although he didn’t remember her name at first, he was drawn to the way that her eyes seemed to glow with curiosity.

Because of his bad eyesight, he always wanted to sit in the front along with Minghao, albeit at the far right corner of the room so that he can get away with dozing off just in case it was going to be a long class session. Somehow, with the same mindset, she sat at the front too. At first, it meant nothing to Junhui other than an interesting classmate.

That is, until he started paying more attention to her, and less attention on the lesson.

She wasn’t the type that attracted looks at first glance. She was a normal person with a strong sense of passion, but somehow, Junhui didn’t quite know how to act around her. Eventually, he just decided to look from afar, where he knew he didn't have to deal with overthinking what to say and do. It's not like he didn't try to before, either. On some days, he tried to approach her to ask about an assignment or to borrow a pen, but it ended up as small talk that fizzed away after a few sentences.

Doesn't help that her eyes tended to be fixated on the whiteboard, and not much else.

In a way, Junhui was thankful that she was always set on the lessons and assignments. He could look at her all day and she wouldn't notice a thing. For a time he was satisfied with just this—just admiring her every day without her knowing anything. It’s not like she was going anywhere. No one else ever showed romantic interest in her either, which gave Junhui all the more reason to continue staying as he was.

However, feelings can’t always be completely contained, especially if they’ve been growing slowly over a series of months.

It was a beautiful warm day in June, so Junhui and Minghao took the opportunity to be in the library for most of it. The library had large windows that spanned the entire wall, giving a view of the greenery outside the building. The temperature inside was just right, making it a favorite spot for students who wanted to study in comfort and quietude.

She was sitting a few tables away, a pair of earphones filling her time with piano music as she prepared to take notes for the test the next day. Junhui sat with Minghao, who was studying seriously while Jun was looking up from his notes once every few minutes.

"If you keep on looking at her like that, might as well stop studying and look at her for three hours." Minghao said, eyes still fixated on his notes below him.

"What? I’m not doing that, I'm studying!" Junhui said defensively, careful to make sure that his voice doesn’t go above the appropriate level for libraries.

"Then what are you looking at?"

"This book, of course." Junhui responded while indicating the book in his hands.

Minghao looked over at the page Junhui was on, "Uhuh, and what does it say about the Law of the Minimum?"

"Hmm, something about a function..."

Minghao looked at him, "Jun... it's been two years. Are you really just going to stay as an admirer from afar?"

"I know, I know. I'm just not sure how to approach her. I mean, I know what I want to say and do, but I'm just afraid that I'll mess it up." Junhui scratched the back of his hand. “You know what I mean right?”

Minghao sighed and put his hand on Junhui's shoulder. "So do you want to make a move or not?"

Jun raised his eyes and looked around, scared that someone else might overhear them. "Huh?"

"Come on, I know you do. The silent admirer thing has been fun and all, but you’ve really been getting more restless these past few days, especially when she’s around.”

"No, I mean yes. I mean...”

Minghao groaned in slight exasperation, "She's smart, so I'll teach you something that will make sure that she won't stop thinking about you."

He pulled out a pouch from his bag and took out a stack of green sticky notes. He laid it in front of Junhui along with a pen. Junhui looked at him with confusion, but Minghao simply raised his eyebrows and motioned for him to take it.

"If you're too shy to talk to her, then you can just write instead." Minghao said.

Junhui started to panic internally. "But what if she finds out that it's me?"

"If she finds out, she finds out." Minghao said with a shrug, as if it were no big deal. He tapped on the stacks of sticky notes. "It's not like she memorizes everyone's handwriting. To be honest, you don't write much either, so she isn't going to know."

Junhui took the pen in his hands and thought hard. He wanted to write something that wouldn’t make it seem like it's him, but something that would pique her curiosity enough for her to keep the note.

He started writing. I like your shirt. He bit his lip as he finished writing. He looked up at Minghao who looks at Jun as if he just committed a crime.

"Seriously? I like your shirt?"

Minghao took out the note and crumpled it. "Make it something nicer. Don't think too hard and try again."

"But..."

"Did I stutter? Don't think too hard."

Jun was about to whine, but stopped. He thought about the first thing that he's ever wanted to said to her, but couldn't. He knew that it was somewhere at the back of his head, he just had to put it into words. He thinks about the way that she seems to put all her focus into whatever it is she was doing, about the way she lost track of time working on a project, and in the way that she was excited to answer any question that you threw at her.

He didn’t understand why simple things about her made him so flustered. The simple existence of a person shouldn’t be making you lose sleep thinking about what things made her happy. Junhui pursed his lips and wrote a simple sentence on the piece of paper.

Your passion is beautiful.

He looked at it for a moment, wondering if it would be enough. No, it had to be enough. This was the starting point of everything, not the end. It shouldn’t matter if he messed up now.

Minghao looked over and smiled at him. "See? I knew you had it in you."

Just as Jun had finished writing, she took off her earphones and stood up. She headed over to the bathroom with her phone in hand, leaving her textbooks and notes scattered on the table.

When she's out of sight, Minghao nudges Junhui. Junhui looks at his friend with wide eyes, broken out of his focus on his newly written note.

"Go on and put it on her table while she's not there!" Minghao whispers.

"What, we're doing this now?" Junhui whispers back.

"When are you supposed to do it? When we graduate? Go ahead and do it!"

Minghao pushed him enough just to get him off his seat. Jun clumsily walked to her table, looking to see if her friends are around. Once Jun saw that it was clear, he quickly stuck the note on one of her open pages and walked back to his table red as a tomato. Jun falls to his seat and covers his face in embarrassment.

"Was that so bad?" Minghao asked.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this." A mess of red blushes covered Jun's face, up to his ears.

Just then, she got back from the restroom and sat on her chair as she put her earphones back on. She picks up her pen to continue writing, until she noticed the green note that was left on her notebook.

Minghao pulled Jun's hands away from his face. "Wait, look, she's reading it."

She took out one earphone and picked up the not, a smile forming over her face as she read the sentence. She looked around to see who might have left it, and Junhui quickly looked back down at his book, pretending not to notice. However, he did take a small peak up from the corner of the book enough to see her tuck the note in one of her notebooks. Minghao gave Junhui a proud smile, but says nothing else.

For the rest of the afternoon, Junhui watched as the girl he's been liking for the past two years smile widely as she wrote notes and highlighted sentences on her textbook.

Now, he didn’t have to keep on thinking about what made her happy. Here was there actually doing it by his own efforts.

Now that he was finally able to say what he always wanted to, it left a soft and fuzzy feeling in his chest. The fact that she kept his note and didn't throw it away makes him even happier.

He thought about the idea of her ever liking him back. It seemed like a childish thing to think about, but it was the first time he ever put serious thought into things like this. He realized that he has no idea how to even go about finding out, at least not the first time. It's fine if he doesn't find out right away, anyway. He's just happy that he's finally taken the first giant step forward.

Eventually, she packed up her things and made her way to leave the library. Meanwhile, Jun's eyes followed her around until she's out of sight.

"I think it's time to go." He says, standing up from his chair.

Minghao looks up from his book, nodding back to him. "Yeah, me too. So, what do you think? Happy?"

Junhui says nothing else, opting to give his best friend the biggest smile instead. Minghao didn’t need any words either, he understood Junhui just by the look on his face. So long as his friend was happy, he was more than willing to help him build up his confidence.

This was just the start of the many notes that Junhui would leave on her books or on her desk whenever she wasn't looking. For all those years that he wasn't able to say anything, he was finally able to put it into words and send it over to her. Every day, Jun would end up excited to write another new note that he would try to sneak in without anyone else noticing. At times, he wrote whatever just came into mind, at times earning a weird look from Minghao because of how cheesy it sounded.

You look amazing even when you think you don't. If you weren’t aware, now you are.

I don’t know why, but you look very attractive when you’re focused.

You've done well, don't forget to rest well and eat well. Congratulations on getting the highest score.

I hope you don’t mind me admiring you in secret.

You looked sad yesterday, I hope you’re doing alright. I found out myself that watching puppy videos online cheered me up, you should try it too.

I like the way that you laugh, it’s very joyful and carefree. I hope you stay happy and healthy all the time.

On other days, he ended up writing something without much thought. It didn’t bother him—he wanted her to know his thoughts, even those that seem random and out of nowhere.

The moon was beautiful last night, did you see it?

I noticed that you really like the color yellow. It’s nice and bright, I like it too.

I think the chicken came before the egg, but my friend has been bugging me that the egg came first. I wouldn’t know, really, I’m not a bird.

Are you curious about who I am?

As much as possible, Jun would try to stay around to check for her reaction. To Jun's satisfaction, it would always leave a smile on her face. That smile was all he needed to continue his hopes of starting something between them. It's not like he could just go up to her and say "Hey, do you have a moment? I’m actually that guy that keeps sending over green sticky notes."

As much as Jun enjoyed sending notes over, the girl had been starting to grow all the more curious about who this secret person was. It happened one early morning when Jun had arrived at the classroom to stick his note on her desk where she always sat for their first class. However, instead of seeing an empty white desk, he saw a yellow sticky note right where he usually stuck his notes on.

Similar to his own notes, she wrote a message:

Who are you?

She had also written her name and class on it. Now that she had asked, he wasn't going to reply with just his name, he wasn't ready for that just yet. To be honest, he was just delaying the process, but that was fine by him. What could he say?

Not wanting to make it too obvious, he wrote down a riddle instead. She's smart enough to get good marks on their tests, so Jun was sure she would figure this out in no time. However, he wanted to make it vague enough to just reveal a bit. Jun took out the pen in his pocket and wrote:

You can find me at night if you look up in the right direction.

He took off her note and placed it carefully into his notebook before replacing it with his own green note. He quickly walked out of the room, heart beating fast. He didn't expect her to respond in that way, but he was happy that she was getting interested.

Just as he had predicted, he saw her at the classroom later that morning. There were a group of students gathered at the front of the room, but she still managed to catch his eye. However, this morning was louder than usual, with her friends surrounding her in excitement.

"They left a riddle?!" One of her friends said, leaning in to read the note. "As if he, or she, wasn't already mysterious enough."

"What does it say?" The one who had asked the question for everyone else now asks her.

"It says you can find me at night if you look up in the right direction."

One of her friends crossed his arms. "Probably one of those night owls that spend their time in those 24/7 cafes until morning. Explains why they always seem to give you notes early in the morning when no one's around."

Jun gave a small chuckle as he listened in from one corner of the room. The only reason why he was able to put in those notes early is that he lives in the dorm right across from their campus. He just went in before anyone else arrived at the room and returned to the dorm to go back to sleep. Junhui continued to listen in as the group tried to unravel the riddle.

"So, what's the answer?" One of the guys asked.

Before she could respond, someone else answered for her. "Don't you think it has something to do with the sky?"

Shee points upward as if the answer is right there. "Either way, we have the first-period class in 10 minutes, so we better hurry and solve this." The first one said, turning around.

After a few moments of trying to think of the possible answers, the first person spoke again. "Hey, why don't we just... Call him out on it? I mean, if he's been leaving all of these notes on your desk, then he probably knows where you sit all the time. He's got to be a classmate."

Junhui's heart started to race. He knew that if they just try hard enough, they're bound to figure out that it's him, especially since her group of friends is quite large. All they really need is just the time to check the handwriting and ask around. Someone must have seen him at least once or twice with the pad of green sticky notes.

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?" She said with a laugh, to Jun's relief. "I want to try and figure out who they are based on their hints."

"You're just making this harder for yourself, you know?"

"I mean, if they wanted me to know who they were right away, then they would have just approached me right then and there." She tucked in the sticky note in her notebook, which was now filled with all of Jun's other secret notes. "Let's try to figure it out more after class."

As the topic is changed, Jun felt relieved. He wouldn't have been able to concentrate in class with everyone trying to figure out the riddle right beside him.

However, Jun was feeling a bit braver today than usual. In one of their classes, they were free to work on their task however they wanted so long as everyone stayed inside the classroom. Jun and Minghao managed to find a spot in the classroom next to where the girl was sitting. She was typing something on her laptop, but her notebook was right beside her with some of the green papers peeking out.

Minghao decided to join in on the plan. "Hey, I heard about the commotion before class. Have you really been exchanging notes with this mystery person?"

"Yeah, why?" The girl said without looking up from the laptop.

"How does it feel?" He said, leaning towards her.

"How does what feel?"

“Ahh, come on, I know you know what I’m talking about.” Minghao crossed his arms. "How does it feel to get notes from someone you don't know?"

"It's nothing special." She said, not sounding enticed at all by his question.

Junhui's heart drops for a bit, and Minghao tries not to give him a look.

"If someone I barely knew was leaving me notes, it would definitely mean something." He said, trying to take a different route. “It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

The corners of her mouth go up, trying to suppress a smile.

"See?" Minghao said, half at her and half at Junhui. Her face started to turn red and she turned around to face away from Minghao.

Her shoulders started to shake as she tried not to laugh. "Would you go away already?" She laughs, turning off her laptop and standing up. "It's nothing special, I just find it kind of cute that this person, whoever they are, is so clueless about how I feel."

Minghao and Junhui exchange looks. She's definitely not confessing anything to them.

"Ahhh, come on. How long have you had those notes from him?"

"A while now." She answers, picking up her bag and laptop. She grabs her things and walks past the two of them, turning her head to look at them.

"So what's the deal then?"

"We’ll see once I figure it out." She said finally, giving one last glance at the two boys. She briskly walked to the front of the room, passing her flash drive to the professor before she headed out of the room.

Junhui finally released the breath that he never realized that he was holding. He leaned back in his chair as the professor reminded them that they have 20 more minutes to pass their outputs.

"She likes you." Minghao said quietly.

"Shut up." Jun said, but he can't help but smile.

Just like that, Jun had been dropping small hints about himself. It made him really excited to see that she was also enjoying it. Her friends became just as invested as she was, but she always made sure that they wouldn't try to do a stakeout to figure out who the mystery writer was. On the other hand, Minghao had been working with Junhui to make it even more exciting. The idea came to him one night while they were hanging out at Junhui's dorm.

"What about we attach a QR code and make it into a kind of treasure hunt?" Minghao said as he takes a bite of his chicken salad.

"A QR code to what?"

"To a music playlist." Minghao opened up the Spotify app on his phone. “They’ll enjoy trying to figure out each song. I’m pretty sure she isn’t the type to just listen casually to songs without understanding what the lyrics mean.”

"Wait, isn't she going to know that I made it?"

"Not if we make a new account to make it all anonymous." Minghao replied. "So, do you want to try it out and see their reaction tomorrow?"

Junhui thought it through, kind of shy at the idea of making a playlist for someone. However, he went along with it. He tried his best not to include songs that would immediately give him away. With Minghao's help, he eventually printed out the QR code and stuck it on the sticky note. Junhui took out his pen and wrote above the code:

It looks like you're really trying hard to figure out who I am. Check this out.

Then he got really nervous and turned the notepad over. Minghao gave him a look, but Junhui only rolled over on his bed, flustered at the idea. Junhui paused for a moment with his face buried in the pillows. "Okay, alright, I'll do it. I can do it."

"Good." Hao hit him on the leg before getting up to clean his plate.

The next day, the reactions were just as Minghao expected them to be. One of her friends immediately took out their phone to scan the code, ecstatic to find themselves at a Spotify playlist.

At this point, they still didn't know who the secret admirer was, but one of them was starting to think it was Junhui. Although they never saw him put the notes on himself, Junhui always seemed to be around the area whenever she got the notes.

However, they were never really able to find enough evidence that it was Jun, so it was all left as a theory on their side.

Although the notes were there every single day for the past month, Jun suddenly stopped sending them. This wasn't because he was losing the mood for it, but because he wanted them to actually start figuring out who he was. He was happy that she had been getting curious, but he wanted to start going beyond just leaving notes on her table every morning. He wanted to go up to her and talk without getting shy, to hold her hand instead of imagining it. He didn’t expect that his feelings would grow like that.

That's why he needed time. Time for them to actually talk to each other and not be simple classmates anymore.

For the next two weeks, the notes just stopped, and they were left with only the Spotify Playlist as a hint for who the secret admirer was.

They talked about it in class, some thought it might be a fellow student, while others thought it was too vague and might be someone outside of school. Fearing that she forgot about it, Jun left one final note for her to unravel.

Junhui stood in the dim room early in the morning, pen and sticky note pad in hand. He leaned on the desk and writes his final message.

Do you know who I am now?

Jun paused for a moment, before adding the first hint he'd ever sent her.

You can find me at night if you look up in the right direction.

It was perfect for the occasion. There was going to be a full moon tonight with cloudless skies. She'd surely be able to find the moon. His last name isn’t necessarily the most common one out there. She should be able to figure that the moon was meant to point to him, Moon Junhui.

And so, he left the notes for her. Jun quickly returned to his dorm. He was too nervous to go back to sleep and ended up playing games on his phone in an attempt to pass the time.

However, when he went into class that morning, there seemed to be no fuss. The note was nowhere to be found and she was studying on her desk like she normally would.

Anxiously, he glanced around, but there's nothing out of the ordinary. His heart began to race. Did she find his clue? Did she realize who he is? He'd have no way of finding out. The rest of the day felt like walking through the mud as Junhui tried to hold himself back from outright approaching the girl and declaring himself to be the secret writer all along.

He was too nervous that he wouldn't know how to explain himself if she really did figure out who he was. At the same time, he wanted to finally take the next step forward, still slightly scared of how she might actually react.

Just as he was about to lose all hope, the full moon finally appeared in the sky. Jun was on his way back to the dorm when he received a call from an unregistered number. "Hello?"

"Did you run out of sticky notes? Is this why you haven't been sending me notes for the past few weeks?

Jun stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. It was her. She finally figured it out. He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know what to say without stuttering.

Jun stood there for a good ten seconds before the girl spoke up again, "Hello? Is this Junhui? Did I get the right number?" She started to hum some song on the other end, not hearing the silence from his end.

"Uh, yeah...erm..." Jun managed to spit out. "How did you find out?"

"Having 'moon' as the title of your playlist wasn't exactly the most mysterious thing, you know?" She said with a bright tone. “How I figured it out is a long story, so let’s just say that you sound a lot like the notes you were putting up.”

"So you've known for quite a while now?"

"Yeah, I just didn't want to do anything yet before... checking out a few things." She pauses for a moment. "Are you free right now?"

"Uh... yeah I am." Junhui managed to spit out, a bit more steadily than before now that he’s gotten himself together.

"Good, because we need to talk. Don't be so scared, It's not bad news." She laughs at the other end. "Meet me at the department lobby in ten?"

Jun gave her a small yes and dropped the call. With shaky hands, he quickly dialed Minghao and told him all about it.

"Well, isn't that good? You're finally getting to where you want." His friend said nonchalantly.

"That's the point! I didn't know it was suddenly going to happen like this!" Junhui paced back and forth. "I'm going to be a stuttering mess, I didn't prepare for this! Well I mean, I wanted this, but it’s just…AH!!"

"Look, you're going to be fine. You're just nervous, that's all."

"...Can't you come with me?"

"Huh? Jun, I'm just going to be an awkward third wheel. You need to go to her yourself. I'm going to hang up, good luck."

"Wait, no, Hao--" Before Jun could continue, his friend ended the call, leaving him alone in his nervousness.

He had to go do this himself. If he didn't, he'd always regret it. Junhui gave himself a few slaps on the face before turning around to head back into their building.

The lobby was found right at the entrance of their building. It had a small indoor garden with a few benches and tables. Jun fidgeted with his phone as he stepped in, looking for the familiar figure that he had been watching over all this time.

When Junhui found her, he held his breath.

This is it. This is finally it.

She turned her head to look at him, smiling at him. She was sitting on one of the benches, her notebook filled with Junhui's notes on her lap.

She stood up and walked towards him. "Hi."

"H-hello." Jun says nervously, taking a small step back. "So you finally found out, huh?"

"Well it wasn't that hard to figure out. It wasn't until I started noticing that you've been staring at me a lot during our classes that I was definitely sure that it was you."

"I do?" He knew that he absolutely was, but he wasn’t aware that it was actually that obvious to her.

"Yeah, you do. But I didn't mind it, if that's what you're wondering." She answers as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say. "One question though, why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you like me? As far as I know, I'm not really the kind of girl that gets all the guys riled up. Being a study freak doesn’t really scream girlfriend material, you know? As far as I’m concerned, I even hear that people get intimidated by me for reasons I can’t really pinpoint.”

"I... Eh..."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not mad."

A small laugh escaped from Junhui's mouth. "No, I don't think you would be."

The girl looked at him patiently as Junhui takes a few moments to compose his thoughts. "Well, you're smart and outspoken, but I don't think that's something I should be intimidated about. I actually think it's pretty incredible that you stand up for what you believe is right. I don't know if you see it or not, but you become different when you concentrate on your work, well I mean, in a good way, of course."

"You really think so?" She asked in disbelief, as if she didn't have a kind word for herself.

"Yeah, I really think so." He nods, being completely sincere.

The girl tilted her head a bit as if considering his compliments. Then, she returned her attention to her notebook.

"You know, these notes really meant a lot to me." She said with a small voice. "I've been having a difficult time these past few months, but I didn't really tell anyone about it. Just when I was really getting sick of everything, your notes suddenly popped up into my daily life. For that, thank you so much."

"You're welcome." Junhui pressed his lips together. "Do you mind if I ask you a question in return?"

"Go ahead."

"What do you think about me?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He immediately clamped his lips and cheeks shut, waiting for her answer.

She laughed. "Don't be so nervous." She told him. "Well to be honest with you, I'm not yet sure. It's really the first time someone liked me in this way. I tried to think about it to settle my feelings, but I always get caught up doing something else in the middle of it. If anything... I guess you make me happy in a way?"

"I make you happy?" He could barely believe she said that.

"Yeah, that's it. You can make me really happy, or at least that's what I think you're capable of doing."

"That's, that's great!" Junhui felt like he was floating.

"I'm glad that it made sense to you." She grinned. "I don't know if I'd call it love just yet. Would you give me time to think it through?"

"Uh, of course." He nodded. "I'd hate for you to make a hasty decision just because I reached out to you."

"Alright. Thank you, Junhui."

The both of them stood there in silence for a few seconds. Just ecstatic to know how they felt about each other. After all the initial anxiety and sneaking around, everything finally felt that it was worth it. Sure, he didn't know if she would ever reciprocate his feelings in the same way, but now that the cat's out of the bag, he felt that there really was something waiting for them at the end of the road.

Junhui can't help but smile like a kid.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The girl asked.

"I'm just in shock. That's all." He smiles.

She gives a small chuckle and looks away. "Your personality is very adorable, are you aware? If not, now you are."

"Huh? What? Oh! No. Well, I mean I know, but I'm just surprised someone told me." He laughed nervously. Junhui cleared his throat. "So, do you want to grab some dinner with me? I know all the good Chinese restaurants around campus."

The girl smiled. "I'd love to."

That was the start of it all. At first, Junhui regretted not telling her earlier, but now he understands that it was just the perfect time for it. He was happy enough to have her by his side, slowly figuring out the complex intricacies of her personality one small piece at a time. It was a joy to know her, and an even greater joy to fall in love with her. It didn't matter that they were taking slow steps, what mattered to him is that they find peace in the pace that the other was on.

This was more than enough for him.

#svt #seventeen #wen junhui #jun #svt jun #seventeen jun #moon junhui #moon junhwi #seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #junhui x reader #jun x reader #moon junhui x reader #wen junhui x reader

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charkyzombicorn · 3 years ago

Text

Okay thought up a quirk and a villain motivation so I'm gonna put it on Izuku because reasons.

The quirk is called Picture Perfect

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️

Whoever Izuku takes a picture of (physical picture, digital doesn't count) is frozen, disappearing from the real world and only existing in that photo. Izuku doesn't discover his quirk until he's about 14, he was given the diagnosis of quirkless and no one uses polaroids anymore so it wasn't exactly easy to catch. Since he was 'quirkless' for a whole decade, his dad left and him mom had to work two jobs to support them both and he started coming home beaten bloody by his classmates and after ten years Izumi Midoriya is always tired. She rarely looked happy anymore, and Izuku couldn't help because the whole world seemed to be crushing her. And when Izuku is 14, he decides to get a polaroid so that he can start putting more than just his idol on his wall.

It's his mom's birthday, he made her her favorite dessert and picked up some shifts at the library so she wouldn't have to work that day. She was smiling the brightest smile he'd seen in years and he used his polaroid for the first time to take a picture of his mother. So he was terrified at first when he realised he'd accidentally trapped her, deducing that it was his quirk and that he could let her out if he tried. He almost did, but then he saw the smile on her face, frozen, happy. He put her picture down on the table and left, going outside and testing his quirk on a few strays to make sure he could absolutely get his mom back without hurting her. He went back home an hour later and he realised something.

She was frozen, happy, she didn't have to worry about anything in there, the world wasn't crushing her, she was safe. Keeping people safe and happy is what heroes did, wasn't it?

He carefully used double-sided tape to fasten the picture to the wall without tampering with the ink. That's what he was doing, he was protecting her from all the harsh things even pro heroes couldn't protect people from.

He didn't tell anyone, if he did, they would make her go back to working herself to death, they would take smile off her face. He wouldn't let that happen. He stopped going to school, he left his house with only a few pairs of clothes, some money, and his mother safely stashed away pressed in a hardcover cookbook. He had to give up the idea of UA, but that was okay, because he was gonna be a hero to protect people for all the harshness of the world instead of just villains.

He thought it was selfish that he had the power to freeze people in bliss and only gave his mother said freedom, so he marched up to the first homeless man he saw and explained his quirk, offered the man a trouble-free existence.

To his surprise, the man seemed horrified at the idea. He said he would keep his life and the hardships that came with it, and sped away as if Izuku were crazy. Izuku didn't offer anyone else, wandering around the red light district looking for a cheap hotel to stay the night. He ended up accidentally going in circles and it was starting to get dark when he came across an alleyway, and some part of his gut urged him toward it.

Eventually his steps became wet and he looked down, in the dim light he could barely see a figure to he turned on the flashlight on his phone. He threw up a second later. There in the middle of the alley was the corpse of that same homeless man, mangled and broken and not breathing. If he had just listened to Izuku this never would have happened, he would have been happy and alive and as well as his mother. He ran away, tears clouding his vision because he couldn't protect this one.

Next time, he didn't ask. Instead, he offered the homeless woman a sandwich and talked to her. It seemed she didn't get that sort of kindness often because she brightened at the wide-eyed little boy she met. They chatted and laughed and it was one of the best days the woman had had in months of misfortune. He decided to capture her, which he thought sounded much worse than it was. He whipped out his camera and told a lie about taking pictures of people he helped in the community for a school project and she obliged happily. He put her picture in the cookbook for safe keeping.

He kept doing this, for every down-on-their-luck person he came across, he was reported a missing person along with his mother so he started dying his hair and wearing a medical mask, purely to keep all his pictures safe and happy.

But then the news started getting on with all the missing persons, and he was labeled a villain. He knew why, the general public don't know how happy they can be, forever. He was given the name Broke Bandit, which was a rather dumb name, but a bit fitting considering he mostly took pictures of people who were down on their luck money wise. He started being more careful, only making people happy when they were alone because he'd already done too much good to give it all up now. He was helping people, no matter how much the public wanted to twist his motives. He took odd jobs to keep himself fed and housed, occasionally sleeping in empty bachelor pads and borrowing money from wallets that wouldn't be needed where their owners were. The UA exams passed and his Kacchan got into UA just like he always wanted, Izuku was so happy for him. But then UA was attacked by the league of villains and that wouldn't do. How could Kacchan be happy if he wasn't safe at his own dream school?

He did research, but that wasn't enough. He started taking up different kinds of odd jobs. People traded people for information, a few questionable individuals but if they were consorting with these types the people he captured must have been bad types. He gave away the photographs with minimal questioning, not releasing them from their pictures though. Even if these people wanted to kill the people he captured for them, he wouldn't let them hurt. That wasn't was heroes did.

He found the LOV base too late, Kacchan was kidnapped by those bastards and that wouldn't do. He made his way there as quickly as possible, he picked up a few tricks capturing people before they could see him, and he got into the base with a bit of struggle. He positioned himself right behind the chair they had crudely strapped Kacchan to, and got his camera ready.

He took a picture of everyone in the room from just above Kacchan's head so he wouldn't be captured too, and every villain disappeared into the tiny piece of paper.

He walked into view of his former bully, waving the picture casually as if he weren't internally bouncing off the walls with excitement to see his oldest and only friend. But before he did, he had business to take care of.

He held up the picture, showing the final moment of the LOV. "They're all in here, trapped until I let them out." He said evenly, before gently opening the blond's palm and placing the picture there before closing the fist, hearing the paper curl and crinkle. "Destroy it." He said, staring down at his friend with a mad glint in his eye.

Red eyes went wide, his jaw clenched before he started hurling insults like they were still five and he was having a tantrum. "What the fuck?! No! Why should I believe you?! Fucking asshole! I'll kill you! Why would I kill them I ain't a damn MONSTER!!" He struggled harshly against his restraints, accidentally making his palms sweat more.

No, Izuku couldn't get rid of the LOV, the credit would go to an unknown mask instead of Kacchan, and Kacchan wanted to be number one. Taking down a whole villain organisation that even got past All Might would surely help Katsuki more than him. He sighed, and decided once again, since people refused to see the bigger picture, he'd give it to them free of charge whether they liked it or not. He hooked a finger under his mask, and pulled it down. He smiled kindly at his friend, who suddenly looked like he'd seen a ghost.

Then all the rage that had been collecting over all those months since Deku had disappeared made him slip. He lost control and reflexively made an explosion big enough to decintigrate the tiny photo.

Ash fell through the teen's fingers as he realised he had just killed people. He struggled against his restraints more harshly, hissing and spitting barely comprehensible threats.

Izuku's work was done, so he tugged his mask back up before putting a finger over his covered mouth. Katsuki froze. "Don't tell anyone I was here, then you won't get all the credit for such an amazing feat, ne?" And he left.

Katsuki told. And Izuku had never felt more betrayed when he saw his face on the news of the cheap motel TV talking about all his heroism as if he were evil. He cried.

He needed advice, but he had no one. So after a lot of debate, he got out his mother's picture, still smiling in front of her birthday cake as she was when he'd taken her. He released her.

She stumbled backwards, losing all the colour in her face and falling as if she hadn't used her legs in months, her puples like pinpricks. She looked up at Izuku and everything she emitted was fear, not tainted with relief or happiness at all. Izuku didn't understand.

He tried to explain what happened, but she didn't say a word, she kept crawling away from him feebly as if he were everything bad in one small package. "Y-Y-You're a murderer." She said, and Izuku would have revelled in hearing his mothers voice again after so long were it not for the words.

"What?"

"I was there, I couldn't move, you let people die, you killed people, you trapped people." Her voice got more steady as she got more angry but it barely covered a portion of her skin-bleaching fear. Izuku blinked at his mother.

"I-I was just trying to help--" his words made her flinsh as if she didn't know he was her son.

Suddenly anger flooded the teenage boy. "I gave up UA to try to keep you happy, I gave up my name to protect people from killing themselves with all the hardships of this world! I gave my life to keep bad people off the streets and to keep people happy!! I lost everything, and now you won't even look your own son in the eyes?!" He hated this, he gave everything and she was looking at him like this. Angry tears flowed down his cheeks as he harshly grabbed the polaroid still hanging from his neck, and his mother scrambled to try to stop him even though all she could do with the lack of practice moving was crawl.

His next picture of her wasn't happy. She was pale, crying, pathetic, reaching for the camera with wide eyes that held nothing but fear for her only son. He crumpled up the paper into a crude ball, stomping out to the hotel parking lot and burning her picture on the concrete, followed by everyone else he kept safe in his cookbook.

If everyone insisted he was a murderer, if he was going to be punished as a murderer no matter what he did, he might as well be guilty.

#bnha #its a bit long but hey #villain deku #and a bit of #bakudeku #if you squint

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alarriefantasy · 4 years ago

Text

Hi, all! So it seems that the wonderful AO3 user - objectlesson - aka on tumblr as - horsegirlharry - has sadly deleted their fics. I have only a few saved in my files, but there are some I would really love to possess, if anyone has them? I would really appreciate it if you would message me and let me know! :)

Also, I am posting the whole list of amazing stories they shared for our fandom, and I am marking (with an asterisk*) the ones that I have myself, in case anyone else would like them too! <3

Silver White Winters

by objectlesson

In which Louis catches a cloud and pins it down.

Words: 5106, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

I Must Confess (I Still Believe)

by objectlesson

Louis shrugs, eyes on the road. “You look cute in the blazer, too,” she says nonchalantly, and what the fucking fuck, what is Harry supposed to think?

“You probably do, too, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t even think you own one? Do you ever actually wear the entire uniform?” she asks, deflecting.

“Not since freshman year!” Louis boasts proudly. “They stopped giving me demerits because it’s, like, a lost cause. I literally haven’t seen my blazer in three years, I just borrow Veronica’s when I walk into Mass.” Her grin is very cheeky and bright, and she’s squinting in the sun, aviators pushed up into the overgrown auburn shag of her hair. The horizon is hazy and pink-orange as dark sneaks up on them, the air smelling of sprinkler water and BBQ smoke from people leaching the last warmth of October before summer’s gone for good. Harry feels alive with possibility, eyes watering as she smiles at Louis, unable to stop. She wrinkles her nose like it’ll somehow hide the way it looks on her face to be in love.

Or, Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl’s School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever.

Words: 44304, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Powerless (and I Don’t Care It’s Obvious)

by objectlesson

“Oh no, Lou, don’t make me laugh,” he whimpers. His Ribena-purple mouth twists into a glorious, breakable shape, and Louis’s heart stops. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet.

Words: 4090, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park

by objectlesson

The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse.

Words: 7556, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Life Saver

by objectlesson

Nerd Boy’s giant, dorky, adorable hand shoots into the air. Louis notices he has chipped red polish on a few of his nails and some tattered friendship-looking bracelets, like the sort you make in camp, and he might hear the distant chime of wedding bells. He thought he didn’t even believe in marriage because it’s, like, oppressive and heteronormative or whatever, but that was before Styles, Harry (Harry Styles!!! What an absurd, wonderful name! What a perfect thing to scrawl in the margins of all his notebooks surrounded in hearts!) appeared in the bio lab at his new school and ruined all his principles forever.

or, Louis is a sweetheart punk with a theater background and a heart of gold, Harry is an inexperienced nerd who plays by the rules. Classmates, lab partners, and eventually friends, what happens when Louis knows he’s in love, but doesn’t know how tell Harry?

Words: 14809, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Even Your Honey Dew

by objectlesson

It probably says something about Harry that he’s so obsessed with another omega’s arse.

Words: 9512, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

What a Heavenly Way To Die

by objectlesson

She’s thought about it a lot, and two big things seem to be holding her back, aside from the uncontrollable paralysis that overtakes her body every time she so much as tries to sneak a hand under the waistband of Harry’s knickers.

Or, Louis is afraid to do stuff to Harry, who has done a lot of stuff to her.

Words: 8052, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Firm Believer and a Warm Receiver

by objectlesson

a few months ago, Louis had his first heat. It was no big deal, aside from it being awkward and weird and all the other things it was supposed to be. He figured he would present as an omega, so he wasn’t exactly surprised or anything.

But then, last week, Harry had his first heat, too.

Or, the omega/omega sleepover fic no one asked for but y'all really, really need.

Words: 10895, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You’ll Know What Makes The World Turn

by objectlesson

Sometimes, when things are messy and they have more than a few weeks apart, they need the reminder. It’s comforting to have stars to map your course by.

or, Harry’s blue bandana is a day collar.

Words: 4624, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Sing You Butterflies

by objectlesson

Louis stares for a moment before some primal sympathetic force in him activates. He has to help this boy. He can hardly walk, and he seems so young (yet ageless, beyond age, like a sea turtle or a parrot or a tree or something else odd and magical), and on top of all that, he has body glitter clinging to his skin, like that roll-on stuff his sisters used to use as preteens, only pink-gold and twice as thick. It’s, like, professional grade. He’s also wearing grass- and dirt-stained pink silk women’s underwear, so maybe he’s from London. Maybe he’s a drag queen who crawled all the way from a nightclub in Soho just to save Louis from his horribly mundane and woefully heterosexual neighbours out here in the middle of nowhere.

or, Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap.

Words: 22701, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Holy

by objectlesson

She deserves not to be so goddamned put together all the time. Being in the world’s biggest and highest exposure girlband means she’s never seen without a flat stomach, a spray tan, contouring, eyelash extensions, the whole of her body inescapably toned and plucked and waxed so frequently she genuinely forgot what fucking color her own pubes are. Louis wants to eat burgers and smoke weed and be twenty three. She wants to wake up with Harry and spend the whole day in bed fingering each other because they finally don’t have to have goddamn acrylic nails for once. She wants to grow her pubes out. She wants to lounge around in a posh, red-velvet High Hefner robe.

Or, Louis is dressed like a fucking queen, Harry’s begging please.

Words: 6608, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only One I Dream Of: A Drabble Collection

by objectlesson

A collection of all the m/m One Direction drabbles and timestamps I’ve written on tumblr, so my readers on here aren’t missing out!

Words: 5164, Chapters: 5/13, Language: English

Diamonds in the Moonlight

by objectlesson

The 70s au where Harry is a rich girl stuck in the suburbs who thinks she loves Shaun Cassidy, and Louis is the skater who breaks into her backyard and changes everything forever.

Words: 16136, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

In the Heat of the Night

by objectlesson

“You’re sleeping with me, obviously,” Harry says then, pausing to regard Louis with a funny expression, nose wrinkled and brows drawn tight. “Don’t tell me you thought that I’d let you freeze out here!? Absolutely not! C’mon, the bedroom’s cozy, I dragged a space heater out.”

Louis wants to protest about as badly as she wants to sleep next to Harry Styles, which is a lot. Too much.

Or, Louis is the only butch in London with a truck and Harry needs to move a couch.

Words: 7726, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Once Upon a Dream

by objectlesson

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Words: 16643, Chapters: ½, Language: English

From Now Until Forever

by objectlesson

The girls go to Britney Nite and Louis wears Juicy track pants and Harry is not ok.

Niall takes the pint glass back from Harry and takes a swig, regarding her over the rim knowingly. “You’re nervous,” she observes with a grin. “Because you’re gonna get drunk at a gay bar with Louis, and you haven’t told her yet that you wanna marry her.”

“Oh, my god, stop,” Harry scolds, hiding her face in her hands, everything suddenly hot and shivery. “It’s not that,” she adds, even though it most definitely is.

“Then…you’re excited to see Louis in a schoolgirl skirt and bra? Covered in that body glitter that smells like cotton candy?” Niall presses, waggling her eyebrows, making Harry blush at the mere thought of Louis’s golden skin shimmering and sticky under club lights.

Words: 9223, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Hello, Heaven (you are tunnel-lined with yellow lights

by objectlesson

“Oh, yeah?” Harry asks, playing dumb as he helps Louis out of his coat before hanging it up. “A new phone charger? Mine’s still broken, the electrical tape didn’t work.”

Louis makes a face at him, all arched brows and tongue pressed into cheek. “Oh a phone charger? Is that what you need?” he quips lightly, voice high and lilting in this sing-song way that’s so, so high and gentle that it’s scary. He’s putting on a show for Harry, and Harry’s thrilled with it, already shivery and hot-cheeked because Louis got him something naughty, and they’re talking about it without really talking about it, wrapping it up in layers of mundanity and domesticity, still so excited to play the role of two Adults living in their new Adult flat in London that they bought with their own money from the X Factor. Harry’s living an unimaginably glamourous life so suddenly, and Louis and his gifts are right in the middle of it, the heart of his every dream.

Or, Louis buys Harry things sometimes.

Words: 2988, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Dream About That Casual Touch

by objectlesson

And that was the first thing Louis noticed about her. Not her nipples, or not only her nipples, anyway, but the fact that she was so confident with her body and didn’t seem to care that her tits were sort of soft and floppy and uneven or that she had a little roll of pudge around her hips that poked over the top of her jeans when she wore crop tops. She wore what she wanted to wear whether or not it was in fashion or technically even flattering; her hair was always messy, she only wore makeup half the time, and she seemed to like heeled boots even if she was already fairly tall and they made her tower over the boys. Louis always thought it was so fucking sexy how unconcerned Harry seemed with what people thought of her, how comfortable she was in her own skin. That by itself seemed like a sort-of gay thing, so Louis kept a remote, careful eye on her, hoping to one day see something else that blipped her radar.

Or, Louis and Harry fuck up two dates before they finally get it right.

Words: 7678, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Smoke Dreams from Smoke Rings

by objectlesson

“When I get a craving?” Louis says, “You have to help me chase it away. Distract me”

Oh. Harry can think of about one hundred different ways to distract Louis Tomlinson. One hundred better uses for his mouth, for example. “Erm,” he squeaks, well aware of the fact that he’s grinning and dimpling and blushing all at once, his whole face a suddenly mortifying warzone of transparent emotion. “How?”

“By hitting my arm as hard as you can,” Louis announces, holding out the arm in question. It bridges the gap between them, stiff and expectant, and Harry stares, not entirely sure if Louis’s being serious, if this is some prank that he isn’t clever enough to understand, or if the promise of touching Louis under any circumstances is so titillating that he just can’t process it. Louis rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie then, revealing his pale inner arm in maddening increments, pushing Harry somewhere between drooling and vomiting, he isn’t sure which. He just knows that his mouth is flooded, and the barely-there ghost of Louis’s veins through his skin is the prettiest thing that he’s ever seen. “Go on, hit me,” Louis orders. “Don’t be shy,”

or, Louis enlists Harry to help him with his bad habit.

Words: 18116, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Black Stars and Endless Seas

by objectlesson

Or, A Star Trek Original Series AU where Lt. Styles is a young science officer on his first away mission, and Louis is the headstrong ensign assigned to his security detail, and maybe they would be able to function together professionally in a normal setting, but not when their shuttlecraft crash-lands and they end up marooned together on an improbably and unfairly beautiful planet.

Words: 32246, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English

Rose Garden Dreams

by objectlesson

Harry thinks it’s a fever-induced delirium, at first. After all, she’s been sick in bed for a full forty-eight hours following the Best and Most Important beach trip of her entire life because fate is a cruel and jealous bitch who doesn’t want Harry to go on a date with the girl of her dreams.

or, Harry is sick and Louis comes to visit her.

Words: 9464, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Palms Reflecting in Your Eyes

by objectlesson

Harry visits Louis at his campus and finds a crop on the wall.

Words: 6496, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Wrap You Up in Daisy Chains

by objectlesson

Ten minutes later, an awkward, long-legged, curly-haired, so pale she’s reflective, and so obviously gay-looking Harry Styles is sitting shotgun next to Louis in a bikini, denim cut-offs, and heart-framed sunnies.

Or, Harry and Louis and a too-small bathing suit.

Words: 10613, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

To Keep the Night From Ending

by objectlesson

It doesn’t always feel real to kiss in the dark, Harry guesses. He wants it to feel real. He wants it to be the realest thing, burnt indelibly into his skin.

Or, Harry and Louis take a night swim.

Words: 5036, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Good Enough to Eat

by objectlesson

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

Words: 6722, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Grenadine Sunshine

by objectlesson

Harry’s only sixteen, it shows right now, and Louis wants…he wants so many things. He wants to taste the faint, sugary ghost of lip gloss, he wants to cup Harry’s face between his palms and swipe the shimmery wet shadows from beneath his eyes. He wants to show him everything he knows, even though he doesn’t know anything about this, about kissing boys or flirting with them or doing their makeup or even showing them it’s okay to want to wear makeup in the first place. Still, Louis just wants, wants and wants and wants. It’s what Harry does to him.

Words: 18067, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only Angel

by objectlesson

Louis pops his hip out, looking down at Harry from beneath the cut of his fringe sassily. “How do I look?”

Harry…Harry doesn’t have words, not really. He sits there on the floor with a half-hard cock, gazing up at this taller, scarier version of Louis with wide eyes. “Like I want you to spin-kick me in the face,” he admits after a moment, shakily inhaling. “You look…really good.”

Or, Louis finds a pair of heels that fit, and Harry wants to be ruined, as per usual.

Words: 6599, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Someone Who Knows How To Ride

by objectlesson

Harry gives Louis a lap dance. Or, at least, he tries to.

Words: 5114, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Copper Kiss

by objectlesson

Harry’s not allowed to fly back to the UK without marks to remember Louis by.

Words: 4604, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You Drive Me Crazy ( I Just Can’t Sleep)

by objectlesson

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Words: 18520, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Christmas Without You

by objectlesson

It’s Christmas Eve and Harry misses Louis so badly he might be going little crazy.

Words: 5639, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Vinyl and Lace

by objectlesson

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn’t think it’s very funny.

Words: 7541, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Touch of My Hand

by objectlesson

Words: 3104, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Tour Bus Sex, Bus Sex, PWP, Up All Night Tour, Uan era, Canon Compliant, baby boyfriends in love, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Established Relationship

Born to Make You Happy

by objectlesson

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

Words: 25662, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Taste of a Poison Paradise

by objectlesson

Louis notices Harry’s mouth right away.

Words: 9894, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Little Love (is better than none)

by objectlesson

It’s supposed to be no strings attached sex, but Harry’s in love with beauty and tragedy and Louis Tomlinson so there might actually a few strings they’re not talking about.

Or, alternately, the four times they fuck and don’t kiss, and one time they fuck and do (with a few more times thrown in because I’m a mess and know how to write short fics).

Words: 15074, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Take Me Under the Blue

by objectlesson

Louis hasn’t even seen his legs yet. He doesn’t know how they work or how long they’ll be. Maybe they won’t suit the rest of Harry at all, and he’ll have to grow into them or something. It doesn’t matter; Louis has loved Harry for a year with scales, so he can’t imagine wonky legs putting a damper on his attraction.

He supposes he’ll just have to find out. In the meantime, he wonders how the fuck he got here, in his squelching wellies about to save the love of his life from the sea and take him to bed and bang him for the very first time.

It’s sort of a long story.

Words: 19011, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

#deleted fics #objectlesson #horsegirlharry #larry fics #larry stylinson #larry fic rec

84 notes · View notes

peachyteabuck · 5 years ago

Text

study buddy, part v

series summary: after crushing on you since freshman orientation, Natasha finally gets the guts to ask you help you pass her postmodern lit midterm, to which you agree.

chapter summary: one restaurant date, two confessions, and three grades that will make or break natasha’s degree

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 4,881

trigger warnings: overstimulation, use of a safe word, teeth rotting fluff, strap on sex, ball gags, explicit conversations about whorephobia, orgasm control, angst if you squint

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

part one, part two, part three, part four

The warmth of the sun filtered through blinds is what woke you, wrapped tight in Natasha’s arms. The sex-stained blankets were as messy as can be, some of them hugged your intertwined bodies like a tightly wrapped burrito while others were nearly falling off the bed.

It was messy, beautifully and wonderfully so. If you felt the need to move (which, of course you didn’t because who in their right mind would try to disentangle themselves from such a lovely human person) you doubt you could’ve; Natasha held you with arms too strong and heart beat too soft. You wouldn’t dare disturb her if the house was on fire; then again, if the world was burning down around you – you’d rather die in her arms than reach for uncertain safety. It’s there that you fell back into sleep, tucked under her chin and running your fingers through her hair.

Eventually the growling of your stomachs woke the both of you up, each respective organ desperate for nourishment – and the two hard-boiled eggs, sour gummy worms, gluten-free bread, and half a container of mustard wasn’t gonna cut it. The waning sun was an ominous sign of how long you’d truly gone without food, and you soon didn’t feel all that bad about poking your poor g-

Poking poor Natasha awake.

You didn’t feel all that bad poking Natasha awake as your insides beg for sustenance and your head feels light and holy shit, if you didn’t eat right then you were going to start taking bites out of her – and, for the first time, not in a fun and/or sexy way.

“Hey,” you pressed your forefinger to her nose. “Nat.” You poked the end of each eyebrow, then at various locations of her forehead. “Natasha!” Still, she remained asleep, and buried herself further into the blankets as some unconscious act of survival. “Nat.” You poked her right cheek. “Naat.” You poked her left cheek. “Naaat.” You poked each cheek with each hand at its softest part, pushing until you felt her teeth. “Nat wake uuup.”

She just grunted and pushed you away before she nuzzled back into the covers. “Go away. I want to die here. Let me become a body without organs.”

She paused.

“Or is it organs without bodies?”

You sighed but make no move to displace her. “One, Natasha, we have the midterm coming out soon. If you do not know the original work done by two far left authors from the sarcastic critique by another far left author, I’m breaking up with you. Two, that’s not what that means and you making a vague reference to some postmodern concept does not mean I am going to stop being annoying. Three, would you like to come get dinner with me?”

Natasha shot up, flame-red hair messy and shirt disheveled – it made her look like the top of of a thicket of trees during a forest fire. Along the side of her face, you could see indentations from where her skin was pressed to the pillowcase. “Food?”

You nodded, pushing the strands from her eyes. “Yes, darling, food.”

She wiped at her face and pushed the covers from her legs, eyes half-closed. “Food.”

You picked some of the crust from the corner of her eyes. She blinked indignantly at you but made no move to stop you. “Do you care where we go?”

Natasha shook her head left-to-right silently, then moved to wipe her face once more.

“Okay. There is a very good Chinese place that I want to show you. Is that okay with you?”

Natasha nodded and made a mmhmm noise.

“Cool.”

You kissed the tip of her nose before you got up and scrounged together a passable outfit that would cover the bruises that still littered your body and shield you from the cold. After a few moments, Natasha opened her eyes wide enough to see a few feet in front of her and did the same.

There was s a wonderful silence that filled the air, the comfortable kind. Like the day of that quiz, it’s a wonderful kind of cozy – soothing and sweet.

You could get used to this…

It was a short walk to the restaurant, one you were all-too familiar with due to your many, many nights there. It was the first place you ate at on campus (that wasn’t one of the mind-numbingly mediocre cafeterias) the day you moved in and it had become some pseudo-home, the place always warm and waitstaff always nice (and always willing to let you eat as much as you pay for and abuse their free WiFi).

The menu hadn’t changed much (by “much,” you mean they’ve fixed two of the five typos) since you first started going there, so you should have already known what you want. Still, you opened the folded, laminated paper and read each item with genuine interest, just as Natasha did.

You looked up at her once and awhile just to see her again. Every time you tried to keep her out of your line or sight for more than a few seconds you’d almost burst at the seams, like a sunburst than could only be quelled by looking at her.

“What year are you?” Natasha asked, which broke your unbelievably tender train of thought.

Your brain, which was still very fried, did not compute. “What?”

She reached over to point to the Chinese zodiac calendar on your menu with one of many of her fingers that was inside you last night. “What year are you?”

You mumbled something and shrugged, fake-intense-reading as your neurons attempted to rebuild your capacity for speech. Luckily, Natasha seemed determined to continue the conversation.

“I’m the year of the dog,” she said, nonchalant, as if you were not losing your goddamn mind on the other side of the table. Your brain was fried, your mouth was gaping like a fish out of water, and were your hands shaking? What the fuck were you supposed to say? How should you respond?

Think, you fool! Think!

“There’s a feminist critical theorist who fucks her dog,” you blurted.

Natasha just smiled – god her smile was so big and wide and beautiful - and laughed. “Part of me thinks you’re lying, but part of me worries you’re telling the truth.”

You laughed then, too, smiling big as she did. It set the tone for the rest of the night, mood light and happy as the tired, probably-high waitress took your order and then brought you the food a suspiciously-short amount of time later. It was good, very good.

“And my mom turns to me and she goes,” you wrinkled your noise in an effort to properly invoke your mother’s nasally tone. “This family does not get Fs or Ds or Cs. You better fix this or else.”

Natasha almost choked on her soft drink at your impression. “You were supposed to make an omelet for a foods and nutrition class, what did she want you to do!?”

You took another bite of orange chicken before you rolled your eyes and shrugged. “I have no idea what that woman wants from me now, let alone when I was fuckin’ fourteen.”

You were both laughing as you took food from each other’s plates and swapped small stories. Natasha told you about her own coding mishaps (apparently it was easy to hack into news websites and create fake stories involving certain celebrities and a certain large bird and many, if not too many, phallic objects), you told her about the time you stress-cried in the bathroom so much the janitor kept tissues in a secret compartment for you.

One hand from each of you remained occupied as you held hands on the side of the table farthest from the prying eyes of fellow college students (as if any of them were sober enough to notice, though. Along with being great to you, the restaurant’s very greasy menu meant it was a good spot to quench munchies or quell the pain of an especially bad hangover).

A phone – your phone, you realized – vibrated obnoxiously on the other side of the table. Previously forgotten, you broke from the moment to reengage with the (seemingly) hundreds of people who were attempting reach you via text. At first you thought it’s an email from a client – but then you realized it was a text from a classmate. Specifically, the girl who sat front and center in the lecture hall you and Natasha shared.

“Who’s that?” Natasha asked.

You furrowed your brows as you texted, swallowing the last bit of food. “Oh, Lindsay from our class. She wants to know what I got on the quiz.”

Natasha then realized she never bothered to figure out her grade, and it brought all her anxiety about graduating on time and also making sure you’d never leave her and oh my god what if she failed this fucking quiz?

A few moments of soul-crushing silence passed before you put your phone back down. Natasha watched you like a cat stalking a fake mouse on a string, or a drunk mom at a Christmas party eyeing a dessert table; the drive was genuine, but the goal? Ridiculous. Absolutely, totally ridiculous.

You didn’t press her like she expected, though, didn’t even stare at her with that evil eye Natasha’s sure you got from your mother on more than one occasion. You just went back to eating your food, and put your phone back out of reach.

You noticed her staring at you when you went to borrow (steal) another piece of food from her plate.

“What?”

Natasha furrowed her brow. “Don’t you…Don’t you want to know what I got on the quiz?”

You shook your head as you stole another few bites worth of food. “Not unless you want to tell me.” You shrugged as you swallowed. “I’m not gonna, like, push you if you don’t want to tell me. I’m not my mother.”

Natasha smiled at that and left the conversation there. She was unnaturally quiet for the new few minutes as she listened intently while you told more stories and commented on the food and thought out loud about school and the rest of your life and should you go shopping soon?

Throughout all of it, Natasha remained incommunicative – to the point you started to worry.

“Are you okay?” you asked and reached across the table to put your hand over hers. She smiled, softly, before she replied.

“I really care about you, you know,” she said, low and almost inaudible. You said nothing in return. “And I’m very bad at this. I’m so bad at this. I spent a lot of my childhood in rooms with therapists who said less than I did. I’m not good at,” she waved her hands as she tried to find the right words. “I’m not great at emotions. And expressing them and telling people about them and all that shit. Okay?”

You swallowed the last tastes of duck sauce that coated your back teeth. Despite the sweet substance being a liquid, it felt like a waterfall of boulders cascading inside your throat. “Nat, I-“

“This isn’t me saying I love you, but I want…” Natasha was on the verge of crying, just as you were. She averted your gaze as she continues, staring at the booth cushion directly behind you. “I want to commit to you in some way. I like you, I like the person I am when I’m around you. And I don’t want to lose you because I was too much of a pussy to make a move.”

You said nothing, did nothing. Despite her not looking at you, you stared at her very serious facial expression and watched every muscle twitch for some signs of lying. You saw none.

“I…,” Natasha met your eyes as you spoke. Your mouth was so dry you nearly coughed – but the idea of making any sound terrified you. “I…I need some air.”

You didn’t wait for a reply as you pushed yourself out of the booth and ran out the front entrance.

Natasha didn’t wait for the door to close behind you before she chased after you. She left both of your phones and wallet at the booth, not wanting you to get out of eyeshot but also terrified of the waitstaff thinking the both of you were dine-and-dashers (and terrible ones, at that).

She followed you outside, ache in her heart an excellent distraction from the nighttime chill that dug tiny knives into her pale skin. Still, as her breath was visible in a faint fog in front her, no pain was as unimaginable as the one as losing you.

“Babe, plea-“ began, voice small and nonthreatening as possible.

You interrupted her and avoided looking into her eyes and picked at a loose thread in the sweater you were wearing – Natasha’s sweater you were wearing.

You worried it was the last time you’d ever see her again, and yet you refused to look at her. You refuse dto look at her large eyes and the bags under them, at her nimble hands – thin and agile from years of typing; at her plush lips or beautiful hair or-

Wasn’t that the cruelest irony of all? Of the cognitive dissonant fear of missing something while desperately avoiding looking at it. Still, you chose to jump off the proverbial cliff with your eyes clenched shut and nails digging into the pads of your soft palms and blood rushing in your ears louder than anything you’d ever heard in your life.

“I’m a sex worker.”

Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed and she breathed heavily, like when your mom got mad at you for bringing home that C your freshman year. “There’s-“

“I’m a sex worker. I make my own porn. I sell my nudes. It’s my main,” you sighed. “It’s my only source of income. It’s how I make money. It is how I will continue to make money. It’s how I stay mostly-independent from my very judgmental mother. It’s how I plan on staying mostly-independent from my very judgmental mother and my very judgmental family and the very judgmental world. And if you think that’s morally wrong of whatever, or that I’m some sort of sub-human, or that I’m evil, or that I should stop…”

For the first time that night, you looked her straight in the eyes. No smiling, no laughing, no wishing to see her beautiful face. Power. Authority. Truth. You tried to channel the red you saw on all those feminist theory books you’d had to read for the class that brought you and Natasha together.

“If you don’t believe in the validity of my labor I cannot and will not date you,” you were snarling as you stomped toward her until your toes nearly touched. “I’m not going to let someone who can’t love what I do love me.”

As you stood there, teeth bared and hands balled into fists, stories of rage flashed like lightning in your brain. Narratives of horror from your media studies class, of actresses whose only chance to scream was in front of a camera. If you had sharper nails, sharper teeth, glowing eyes that would be some award-winning monologue where people clap and call it “mind-blowing” and give it “five out of five stars.” You’d be a prime example of how satisfying rage can be as a subversive practice.

But no. You were no antihero(ine), no supernatural being caught on tape. You were not on the silver screen, you were not being streamed on some overpriced platform, you were not the subject of dissertations on media studies or really good articles on feminism or whatever else academics were doing with their time in tenure. You had filed-down nails and wide eyes and soft skin and an uneasy stomach and shaking hands and breath that faintly showed in the air when you exhaled. You had tears that threatened to fall. You had fear.

Natasha’s eyes flitted nervously, her lip between her teeth. For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Natasha was the one to speak first. Her voice sounded as terrified as you felt – with words that were spat through a set jaw and teeth bared.

“Who hurt you?”

You took a half-step back, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? Natasha, what the fuck are y-“

“Who hurt you?” she whispered, words like knives and eyes just as dangerous. You stepped back, almost scared of her and what she could do to you.

You were pressed against the side of the building then – you could feel the brick and mortar itching at the skin of your back through your top. “Natasha what the hell are you talking about? I don’t kn-“

“Yes,” she stepped back, but grasped at your left hand as she did so. She was a ship tethering to a dock, floating out on the water but always willing to come back to port. “Yes, you do. You know exactly who, what, I’m talking about. What they did. Just tell me who they are, and I’ll ruin their lives.”

You looked for the joke, the punchline. You looked for a glint in her eye that said she was fucking with you and was waiting for you to laugh it off. When you were in seventh grade you got asked out as a joke and the football player made the exact same facial expression you now hunt for.

But you found nothing, no teasing or set up in a larger scheme to mock you. She was serious as you’d ever seen anyone be. “What in the fuck-“

“Tell me who they are. Tell me the name of every person who ever made you feel like shit and I’ll ruin their lives. I’ll steal their identity. I’ll make it so they can never get a job, or a car, or a house again. I’ll do it in a heartbeat,” Natasha let go of your hand and held your face in her food-warm palms. “I will destroy the very existence of every person who ever made you feel like this, because you deserve someone who will protect you from all that bullshit. And I want to be that person.”

The silence was painful, almost. But also comforting. Still, you broke it so speak. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Natasha smiled, and pecked your lips. “Good. Now come finish my food with me, it’s getting cold and our waitress is definitely judging us.”

You broke into a fit of laughter, nearly wheezing as she guided you back inside. The food was good, even though it had cooled considerably while you were both outside – greasy and thick with flavor and hot in your mouth along with your soul and Natasha held your hand on the table and fed you with her fork and you stole bits of her food while she was distracted. At one point, Lizzo played on the restaurant soundtrack and Natasha sung low with you, and you ordered more food to take home and it was hot, too hot in your hands as you carried the large brown paper bag soaked with grease to her apartment. Maybe you were going eat the food in the morning, maybe you were going eat it later tonight. It, truly, did not really matter.

There wasn’t much time between when you put the leftovers in the fridge and when Natasha pushed you onto your knees in her (and your) (it was now shared) bedroom. There also wasn’t much time between when your knees hit the ground and when Natasha grabbed the ball gag from its place in her toy drawer.

“I’m so happy you’re mine,” Natasha cooed as she adjusted the matte black straps. She kissed at your temples when it was secured, murmuring sweet words into the top of your hairline. If there was anyone else watching you, if there were some voyeur witnessing this profession of ownership, you doubt they could hear her. The entire world could be gazing at the two of you under a microscope and they would know nothing. Wasn’t it something wonderful, to share such, dare you say it, love that cannot, will not be observed by a single being outside your pairing? “Such a pretty little thing, a beautiful little toy for me.”

You didn’t dare move, worried even a flinch would disappoint her. Even as spit began to fall down your chin and between your breasts, as it pools in the gap between your legs, you successfully resist the urge to wipe it away. Natasha walks to the end of the bed, perching herself on the covers. The silence isn’t thick or uncomfortable, rather something closer to electric, something you can feel on the insides of your nose as you sniffled.

Slowly, she raised her right hand and crooked her first finger. You understood immediately and you got on your hands and knees to crawl across the room to her. When you reached the end of the bed you waited, obediently, for her.

Like at the restaurant – you were nearly bursting out of your skin with excitement as you awaited instruction.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” she cooed. “Now come up on the bed and let me wreck that pussy.”

You do as you’re told without hesitation, scrambling to get on the bed and onto your back. Natasha grabbed a bottle of lube out of seemingly nowhere and poured it over the same strap from the first time she fucked you.

You moaned deeply and reached for something, anything; you whined high in your throat as she pounded into you, the bed smacking against the stained wall with each thrust.

“You’re too pretty for your own good, you know,” her voice was breathless as she spoke. “Normally I would try to keep my toys intact, try to keep them in good condition, but I just can’t seem to help myself around you.”

With each word your back arched farther, your fingers tightened around the sheets.

“F-fuck,” you moaned around the thick plastic sphere in your mouth as you tried to push your back closer to Natasha’s chest.

She grabbed your hair and bit at the curve of your ear before she spoke in a low voice that sent another wave a slick down your inner thighs. “What do you belong to?” she hisses. “Who does this pussy,” she slapped your cunt and you cried out at the stinging pain. “belong to?”

You didn’t hesitate. “You Mommy, I belong to you!”

In that moment, you wondered whether Natasha’s neighbors could hear your screams. But in the one right after, you realized you really, truly, di not give a single flying fuck what they could hear.

“Fuck yes, you’re mine,” she growled as she pressed your face into the sheets, as she loomed over you like a god would punish some human exercising an unholy level of hubris. “Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You couldn’t speak because of the ball gag – didn’t even try to – yet Natasha seemed to know exactly what you wanted to say.

“You wanna cum, love?” she cooed, still fucking into you. “You wanna cum over Mommy’s cock?”

You nodded, the whines high in your throat resembed something close to a please yes please Mommy please I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum.

Just like the lube, Natasha grabbed the hitachi out of thin air before she turned it on low and pressed it to your neglected clit. It was something, it was enough, but only just so. Your muscle tensed and you wailed out as you bucked your hips, as you tried to fuck yourself harder onto the toy. Natasha notices and slows her thrusts, laughing as you become more and more desperate.

“You’re so pathetic,” she hissed. “Such a pathetic little toy. You’ll do anything to cum, won’t you?”

You nodded; words garbled.

Natasha laughed again. “Of course you would, slut. You’d do anything for me, right? You’d do anything I told you to? You’re just a mindless little toy for me, just a dumb little thing with no thoughts besides how you can please me…”

You were drooling around your gag so much it covered your cheeks and pooled on each side.

You’re blissed out, eyes glazed over and body wonderfully lax. Natasha’s isn’t done with you yet, though, because of course she isn’t. You’re now officially her girlfriend, officially hers, and maybe it’s that satisfaction or excitement or whatever in her blood but it it’s letting her stop, not now, not when you look so ethereal with a halo of sweaty hair and the sheets looking like wings and your skin practically glowing.

Not just any angel, her angel – her perfect little blessed creature, sanctified even as she degrades you in such a sacrilegious way.

“I want you to cum when I count to ten,” Natasha murmured as she pushed the sweaty hairs that had escaped their confines from your eyes. “Alright, baby?”

You nodded and tried to chase the fleeting feeling of her fingers as they dusted over your feverish skin.

She turned the Hitachi up a setting, smiling as it met your clit and you cried out.

“One,” she mumbled, rubbing the head against you in small circles. It was something, but certainly not enough.

“Two.”

Natasha knew this. She knew you didn’t orgasm all that easily.

“Three.”

Regardless, she agonizingly slowly turned the toy up a setting. Just as you feared, it remained insufficient.

“Four.”

God, nearly halfway there and you were terrified what would happen if you couldn’t cum. Part of it was exhilarating, but part of it gnawed a small hole in your stomach that left you…empty, somehow.

“Five.”

She ticked it up one, two more settings. You sighed in relief and moved your hips with what little mobility she’d allowed you.

“Six.”

She increased the vibrations again and reveled in your squeals.

“Seven.”

You cried out and wanted to beg for mercy.

“Eight.”

You didn’t.

“Nine.”

You felt like you’d forgotten how to breathe, lungs shriveled up into nothingness. It was as if you could feel each of your cells as they begged for oxygen, as your blood desperately tried to each your heart and brain.

“Ten.”

You came with a deafening scream, your whole body shaking for what feels like forever.

When you came down, your girlfriend was next to the bed, holding what you could only is another section of rope. What she planned to do with it, you had zero idea.

“How ya doin’, baby?” She asks. Natasha could sense something was off, but worried about misreading the signs.

It’s obvious she was not incorrect, though, when you tapped at your thigh three times.

Immediately, Natasha drops the toys in her hands and rushes over – untying the gag and freeing your limbs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She scanned your body – terrified of finding blood or something worse. “What do you need?”

You swallowed what little spit you could find, your voice hoarse as you spoke. “Red,” a pause as you attempted to swallow once more. “Water.”

It was all Natasha needed before she was rushing off to the fridge to grab a chilled bottle of the stuff and one of those reusable straws she stole from your apartment.

When she returned to the room she pulled you into her lap, keeping you upright as she leaned against the wall.

Natasha watched every muscle, every twitch as you drank from the straw. Your body seemed unwilling to move itself, relying on Natasha to hold you upright enough so that you didn’t choke. The room was silent except for the sound of your noisy swallowing (and, soon, the slurping of last droplets of water). You were about to ask for more, but Natasha found an unopened plastic water bottle within reach and held that for you, too. It reminded you of the first time the two of you fucked, and suddenly the world didn’t feel so cold anymore.

“I’m done, Mommy,” you told her when half the water was gone. “I’m good.”

“You sure, babygirl?” her voice laced with deep, genuine concern. Her eyes reflected the same emotion.

You nodded, leaning into her and rubbing your knuckles where they laid against her thigh. “I’m sure, Mommy. Thank you.”

Natasha closed the bottle and tossed it into the half-open bedside table drawer before she wrapped you in her arms. “Of course, honeybee. I’m proud of you for using your safe word, thank you for trusting me.”

You mmmed and laid there for a moment, your breathing in rhythm with Natasha. You two sat there, comfortable in the silence. If there was anything else to say, you’d say it – but for the while you enjoyed the wordless space you and her existed in.

It took a long while, after your heart had slowed and your breathing had evened out, but you eventually fell asleep in Natasha’s arms. It was peaceful, deep – somehow impossibly more satisfying than any of the other times you’d fallen asleep, even the times you’d fallen asleep with her. There, secured from harm in her arms and wrapped in blankets, you felt secure. It was indescribable, it was wonderful, it was safe. And to you, in that moment, it was heaven.

#study buddy #lukis writes stuff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader

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rosethornewrites · 5 years ago

Text

Fic: Playing with Fire

Relationship: Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant

Characters: Lila Rossi, Rose Lavillant, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Juleka Couffaine, Alya Césaire, Ivan Bruel, Chloé Bourgeois, Luka Couffaine, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Penny Rolling, Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Fang

Additional Tags: Lila salt, Good Chloé Bourgeois, Uncle Jagged Stone, Emotional Support Crocodile, Principal Damocles salt, Bustier salt

Summary: Lila tries to break up Kitty Section. It doesn't go as planned. Salty.

Notes: Had this stuck in my head as an idea. There’s been a trope of Luka being kicked out of Kitty Section because of Lila pulling something like this. Except I don’t think she’d get that far with it. Also, every time I hear this song it makes me think of Lila.

AO3 link

She's got a history of making a scene, yeah

She's telling stories she’s gaslighting

-The Interrupters

“Are you sure it’s… appropriate for an older boy like Luka to be in Kitty Section?”

Marinette froze in the middle of taking a bite of a croissant as Lila’s words floated across the courtyard, her mind filled suddenly with the desire to shriek at the liar, even knowing that would backfire as it always did. She wanted to defend Luka. If Adrien was here rather than at a photo shoot, he’d see Lila was actually trying to hurt people with this.

She barely realized she’d stopped breathing until she started coughing, and that nearly sent the bite of food down the wrong tube. By the time she’d recovered, she had missed any response from the present members of Kitty Section, and Lila was talking again.

“I’m just concerned, is all. I’ve told you I’m like Jagged Stone’s favorite person, right? I know a few people in the industry, really. And some of the execs just don’t sign bands if there’s such a big age gap between members. Like you three and Luka.”

Marinette put down the croissant, trying to build her courage. She could defend Luka.

“But Luka’s Juleka’s brother,” Rose said, looking concerned.

“Yeah, that can look even weirder.”

Marinette started to stand up, but then she caught a Look that passed between the couple. At times they were so in sync it was scary.

Juleka glanced her way, shook her head minutely, and quirked a half-smirk as though to say, We got this.

“You must have worked with some amazing people, Lila!” Rose gushed.

Her admiration sounded just a touch off, but Lila was too busy preening to notice.

“I have. Clara Nightingale texts me all the time.”

“Oh, I have an idea,” Juleka said, her voice faux shy. “I-I mean, if you don’t mind? Like can we try guessing the artists you know? Like a game?”

Lila’s smile widened. “Oh, that sounds like so much fun!”

Marinette carefully kept her face blank, picking at her croissant and ignoring the pitying look Alya sent her way from her seat beside Lila. It wouldn’t do to give the game away.

Ivan’s expression had also gone blank, as though he too knew what was up and wanted to see what happened.

“Oh! I have one. 30 Seconds to Mars?” Rose asked.

Lila shook her head. “No, but I know their producer.”

“What about My Chemical Romance?” It was Juleka’s turn.

“Yeah, they’re a silly bunch,” Lila said with a giggle. “I dated the lead singer for a few months. We’re still friends.”

Marinette had to stop herself from snorting—like an artist in his 40s was going to date a teenager! But clearly Lila only knew the band name and that they were popular among teens.

But apparently the game wasn’t over, and Rose made another guess. In the next three minutes, Lila told them all about three songs written for her and exotic concert venues. Some of the smiles of their classmates were becoming a bit forced as they recognized band names and knew more about them than the liar. Marinette knew enough about music to know that every single band they’d named had sibling members.

“The Carpenters?” Juleka eventually asked.

By the way Lila’s face brightened, Marinette could guess she definitely knew they were famous and would make a great story.

“Oh my gosh, we’re so close! I helped them write some of the lyrics for their most recent album!”

Alya made a choking noise, and while trying not to crack up Marinette realized the girl had finally caught one of the lies.

Chloé was suddenly hissing in her ear, “Put the call on speaker when it rings,” before she moved toward the stairs to the classroom.

Marinette glanced at her suspiciously, but was immediately drawn back to the show when Juleka crossed her arms and laughed.

The smile on Lila’s face faltered for a moment, before returning with a look of confusion. “Did I say something funny?”

“Their last album came out in 1981, so unless you’re secretly like 50 years old pretending to be a teenager like I’m guessing you’ve pretended everything else, it’s hilarious,” Juleka drawled loudly, her shyness momentarily absent in her glee.

In the stunned silence, during which Lila’s face twitched and turned an interesting array of colors, Marinette’s phone rang.

The screen read Uncle Jagged.

Marinette blinked, suddenly realizing what Chloé had meant, and—

Chloé had gotten Jagged to call her?!

She answered the call, putting it on speaker. “Um, hello?”

“Marinette! Where’s the fire?! Drive faster, Penny!” He sounded almost frantic.

“Fire?” She asked.

“I heard my favorite niece is having an emergency. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just at school, Uncle Jagged,” she said, putting emphasis on his name and taking joy in how Lila’s face turned a mottled white. “Having lunch and a show. Are you in Paris?”

“The school? Penny, she’s at the school.” Jagged’s voice was distant as he talked to his assistant, then came back full force. “Hang tight. Uncle Jagged and Aunt Penny are coming. Clara’s here, too!”

The line went dead.

Lila stood abruptly. “Oh, I just remembered, I need to—”

Ivan put his hands on her shoulders gently, suddenly behind her. “Sit.”

The Italian’s eyes darted around the table, finding no sympathy. She sat. Ivan kept his hands on her shoulders, not quite menacing.

Chloé’s laugh rang out from above, and Marinette glanced up to see that the blonde had M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier in tow.

“What is it you need us to see, Mlle. Bourgeois?” the principal demanded. “We were enjoying lunch.”

Jagged sprinted through the entrance, Fang on a leash and easily keeping up. “Marinette! I came right away!”

“M. Stone!” M. Damocles sounded a bit strangled. “You cannot bring that… creature on school property!”

“Can so. Fang’s my emotional support crocodile!”

Penny trotted up from behind him and handed a slip of paper to the principal.

Clara was behind Penny, looking concerned as she approached. “Marinette, are you unwell? I hear for us you’ve a tale to tell.”

Marinette’s face grew warm. “I’m okay, Clara. I’m not sure why Jagged thought there was an emergency.”

Chloé let out an irritated huff. “Because there was. The entire class was being seduced by a liar’s pretty stories, and that thot was bullying you.”

Jagged let out an outraged string of what sounded like they could be curse words if they were pronounced in a non-Cockney accent.

Eventually he scanned the courtyard. “Okay, which of you has been bullying my niece? It’s time for Fang’s lunch, anyway.”

“We don’t have the paperwork to cover that, Jagged,” Penny commented, though she too was leveling a hard stare at the students.

“Bullying certainly isn’t cool. Why was it allowed in this school?” Clara took a seat next to Marinette, taking one of her hands. “You of all people deserve much better: why, you’re a wonderful budding trend-setter.”

A lump was forming in Marinette’s throat; she’d spent so long being strong while all of this had been going on, figuring no one would believe her. But Chloé, of all people, had brought in the cavalry.

Juleka was the one to finally answer Jagged, pointing at Lila. “She’s the one. Just tried to convince me to kick my own brother out of our band and claimed she helped the Carpenters write their last album.”

Jagged studied Juleka for a moment. “You’re Anarka’s kid, yeah? ’Course you’ve got a band. Music’s in your blood.”

Then he turned to Lila. “So what other tall tales has this one been making up?”

Nathaniel opened his sketchbook. “That she’s best friends with Ladybug, has arthritis, got tinnitus saving your kitten from a runaway airplane, you wrote a song about her—“

“A kitten? A song? I’ve never seen that brat in all my life.”

“I mean, there’s more. But she also told us that Clara texts her all the time earlier.”

Clara’s expression turned stormy. “Using my name to borrow fame? I truly think you have no shame! The rest of this class needn’t lie, for they’ve all danced at my side!”

“She was pretending to be in Achu when we participated in your music video, Mlle. Nightingale,” Rose offered softly. “She’s also claimed to know Prince Ali, but I bet if I texted him right now we’d learn that’s a lie, too.”

Chloé scoffed, turning to M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier. “Did you even look into her claims about being in Achu, or having disabilities?”

The principal stuttered an excuse, while their teacher turned pale.

“It seems the school has dropped the ball. Her parents they should try to call.”

Lila chose that moment to push away from the table and out of Ivan’s reach, fleeing from the school as though her ugly-ass romper was on fire.

Marinette sighed. Volpina, take three, was likely on the horizon.

But as her classmates gathered around her apologizing, Alya sitting beside her and hugging her, she could feel it was all going to be okay.

Especially if she got to smack Lila around a little when she was akumatized.

I’m a match, she’s kerosene

You know she’s gonna burn down everything

She’s an arsonist in her pastime

And I’ve been burned for the last time

-The Interrupters

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #lila 'the liar' rossi #lila salt #jagged stone #clara nightingale #chloe bourgeois #chloe redemption #ivan bruel #penny rolling #damocles salt #bustier salt #alya cesaire

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