#so I started to negotiate that I would say EVERYTHING in front of the class if they did ALL the rest

[adrianastrix]

I will not get involved I will not get involved I will not get involved I will not get-

Goddammit if I don't get involved we won't make it home on time, will we?

UGH SURE I WILL ORGANIZE THAT DANGING EXCEL SHEET AND BE THE SPOKESPERSON FOR THAT DANGING FREAKING THING GIVE ME THAT

[endlessmidnightcreates]

Finally was able to finish the character sheet of my girl, Opal Skai for my most recent DND campaign. It's going super well so far!

Can you see all the lil notes I made, I had a lot of fun doing those :3

Here's the low down on her below the cut

She is a Fire Genasi Druid who is all smarts and like 2% fight despite her ferocious appearance (some would say). She is sometimes seen smoldering or glowing. But she is a Huge Nerd and Babygirl and a bit odd.

Opal is a Bookshop Keeper in Baldur’s Gate. Even though the town is regarded as a nest of vipers, she values knowledge and community and takes pride in the family library/store that she runs with her mother. People around it respect her and the store and it’s seen as neutral ground and is both used for gang negotiations and occasional toddler reading circles, sometimes in the same day. 

She Spends 50% her time in the store, 30% in nature and doing #HotDruidShit (like hot girl shit but with druids) and then the other 20% vibing. She’s quiet, but not shy and actually quite talkative when the moment is right (someone asks her a question about a book–or she’s drunk). She will talk and say hi and bye to people on the street. When it comes to fighting, she prefers not to but that won’t stop her from slapping a bitch (with her hand or staff). But like she reeeeally prefers not to (int. modifier Is -1). Mainly cus she’s Genasi and she is mostly untrained so she would rather not kill someone. But she’s capable.

More Deets

Occupation: 

She owns a small bookshop specialty store. Well, technically it belongs to her mother, but it will go to her once she retires or dies (god forbid).

Denizens of Baldur’s gate can get a wide range of books and scrolls as well as several common herbs and spell components. Everything from eye of newt to various animal bones. She partly keeps it stocked with her own foraging as well as having a supplier and an elderly mother (human npc) who watches over the shop and manages logistics. She manages the front of shop. Having read all the books and catalogued everything in the store, she has begun to work on her every-expanding growing “To buy” list that consists of various rare books and magical items. 

She has started to take on minor mercenary/adventurer jobs to build up capital. There are expensive texts and components in Elturel that she wants to get her hands on. These jobs have ranged from delivering 20 rabbit pelts to serving court papers in creative ways (read: transforms into a cat and tricks them into letting her in). Though, for some of the more rare artifacts, she figures, the easiest way is to tag along with one of the many Adventuring parties in BG to gather information on its whereabouts. 

Class: Druid

Why is she a druid. Druidism runs in the family. Opal’s mother and a few aunts and uncles are and were druids. Her grandmother was as well. It was only natural that Momma Opal taught the ways to her flaming baby. But Opal was resistant to the lifestyle as a young one. The spells, the philosophy, heck, being around leaves as someone whose average body temperature could easily reach 300°C made it difficult for her to find the value of the practice. She figured that blacksmithing would be more useful. Being a Druid helps her live more in harmony with the energies and elements that swirl around in her blood. She’s a valued member of the Druid Community in Baldur’s Gate because she’s just a cool gal, but also because she has helped many a druid get lava flowers (a flower that grows inside volcanoes)[i also literally just made that up] 

Combat 

Opal has only ever unwillingly killed once. She was on one of her many quests. She was an ox, lugging a massive stag carcass behind her. Bandits attacked her and she fought them off, maiming a few and kiling one instantly. The others escaped. She went straight home, fleeing the scene. That was the first time she had ever been attacked. She was rarely provoked or approached in human form because of her stature. But as an ox, people didn’t recognize or fear her. She missed a big payday that day. She doesn’t know if they survived or not. She tries not think about it often. 

Fighting and killing are not things she often does. She’s the type of gal to grab a spider and let it outside rather than smush it. But– She CAN do it. She CAN fight (in humanoid form) and she CAN and WILL hurt someone if they hurt or try to hurt her. She will turn into what the situation needs and act accordingly - need to make a quick getaway? HONSE. Need to serve court papers? KITTY. Need to slap a bitch? HUMANOID

She will not attack unless provoked physically. Her moral code is fuck around and find out but reeeally hopes that they don’t have to find out, cus she doesn't know herself tbh.

Childhood:

Opal doesn't know much about her Genie father’s side, though he comes to visit often enough from the elemental plane. She also has a way to contact him whenever she wants.

She has 12 aunts and uncles who are scattered throughout the country, quite a few of them are druids and frequent their local bogs while the others reside in normal villages and have average families and lives. Opal has ALOT of cousins.

She has an aunt and uncle who live in other parts of Baldur's gate. they sometimes take shifts at the shop. All of them contribute to building the shop’s library and maintaining goods. Her aunt is an adventurer while her uncle is a cook at a tavern.

Religion:

She believes in the spirit of nature. Thus she tries to respect it whenever she has the opportunity. Aside from that, she tries to be respectful of everyone else’s gods, except the evil ones (like bal) or the ones that expect an unhealthy blind devotion. She’s not a devout worshiper. Prays on occasion to the universe but other than that, she focuses on her own actions.

[claudeng80]

Inscrutable as a Shadow (High School AU/Animorphs AU 2)

“You know I can’t be gone more than two hours, and it shouldn’t take even that long. I’ll be back by fifth period. It’s just P.E. and lunch, no big deal, right?”

Obi knows he can’t say no when Zen begs, but for the sake of his pride he has to at least put up a token resistance. “I’ll miss history.” It seemed like a better argument before he said it out loud. What’s one absence from a class he sleeps through anyway?

“But you get to eat my lunch.” Zen waves the box in front of Obi like he can see the contents, but he doesn’t have to see a thing for it to weaken his resolve. Mrs. Zakura makes sandwiches Obi’s never imagined before, and every one of them is a delight. Obi’s stomach growls just imagining it.

“You have to be careful. I don’t want to have to be the one to tell Shirayuki something happened to you.”

Zen waves it off. “It’ll be fine.” He holds out his hand. “I’m counting on you,” he adds, and Obi gives in as he always knew he would. Zen’s breathing slows as Obi lays his hand on his arm, the calm that always comes over as a subject as one learns a morph.

And then he knows everything he needs. “This is going to be so weird, man,” he says, and with a deep breath he concentrates.

It has to be strange to watch. Zen’s eyes are wide watching him change, the shift so much quicker from human to human. He doesn’t have to curve his spine or grow feathers, just drop a couple of inches and go blonde. For a moment there are two Zens in the bathroom mirror, one scowling, one grinning.

<Does this work?> Obi asks, and Zen’s grin widens even further. 

“It sure does,” he answers out loud. “This is great.” And Obi would be lying if he wasn’t tempted to raise his math grade a bit by having Zen go take the midterm for him, but that’s a negotiation for later. Zen hands over his backpack, and with no further discussion he closes his eyes and starts his own morph.

Obi looks away. He never likes watching faces turn to beaks and feathers sprout from skin. It looks even worse than it feels. He doesn’t look back until Zen squawks, a whirring of feathers ending with a red-winged blackbird perched on his shoulder. Zen’s claws are sharp. Obi walks him to the window, tipping the glass pane out to let the bird go. <Meet you back here after lunch. Don’t be late,> he insists.

<Yes, mom,> Zen says, and he’s gone.

***

Obi’s banged up and sore when he gets to lunch, but more than anything he’s irritated. P.E. has always been his best subject, and it’s not like Zen isn’t athletic in his own right, but he hasn’t been this short in a while. It throws off his perception.

The door whacks him in the arm on the way in, because of course Zen and Shirayuki are buddy-buddy with the chem teacher and can’t just eat outside like all the normal students. Everybody in the room turns to stare, and for a moment Obi freezes. When he’s a dog or a mouse or whatever, he’s got instincts and reflexes. But there’s no muscle memory for being Zen.

It doesn’t help that his arm’s throbbing, too, the new bruise from the door just adding to the collection track and field gave him. Zen’s going to have some real questions to answer next week when he’s making up all the events Obi wiped out on.

“Zen!” Shirayuki runs up to him, hands right on his arm around the scrapes. “What happened to you?”

“Tripped on the hurdles,” he says, trying to sound as casual as a prince of the school should. Obi would prefer theatrics, but that would be a little too suspicious. <Apparently the pale imitation is not as graceful as the original,> he adds, silently so she knows who’s she’s got her hands on before she embarrasses herself. He’s trying very hard to be a good boy.

Nobody has ever accused Shirayuki of being a good actor. She does jerk to a halt, mouthing his name when she’s made eye contact. As if there were any question. It should be obvious enough by process of elimination alone; Mitsuhide has zero cool whatsoever and Zen would not trust Kiki with his body for anything short of a life or death situation. He nods, and because he can, he leans in close and whispers in her ear. “He thinks that policeman he was worried about goes somewhere in the middle of the day. He’s checking up on him.”

She’s not thrilled with the idea, he can tell from her face journey alone. It settles into a frown he’s never seen her give Zen before. “Well, come eat lunch. We can get that scrape cleaned up at the sink.”

***

The others think they can’t hear them.

“Oo, trouble in paradise!”

Shirayuki knows exactly where to find the first-aid kit, and that concerns him a bit. She does have a delicate touch with the alcohol wipes, and the scrape already feels better without quite so much track grit in it. Thankfully it’s mostly skin he lost and not so much blood, so if Zen wears long sleeves tomorrow they’re not going to have to bandage him up to match.

“Maybe they’re fighting.”

Shirayuki eyes the band-aids in the kit, none of them even close to big enough to cover the largest patch of road rash. Obi shakes his head and blond hair falls in his eyes. Apparently Zen’s little hair-clearing head-flip that makes all his groupies sigh does not come with the DNA either.

“We all knew he’d get tired of her.”

Obi clenches his jaw. Shirayuki slams the first-aid kit a little harder than she usually would, and they both pull out their lunchboxes. It’s hard to be enthusiastic about even heavenly sandwiches when he can’t help but feel like he’s torpedoing his best friends’ relationship. He’s no match for Zen. He always knew that.

“Yeah, usually he’s all over her by now, but he hasn’t touched her once.”

Obi’s hands shake just thinking about it. He’s gotten very good at not wanting, at not thinking about her. They’re friends. That’s important. And she loves Zen.

Sitting here in Zen’s skin is a temptation he should never have to endure.

He pulls a slice of strawberry out of the lunchbox and holds it out. <Here.> he says.

Shirayuki looks at him like he’s got a spider on his face. Of course if Zen were to do this, it would be an elegant motion. She’d understand right away, and it would be sweet and endearing. <The strawberry. It’s for you.>

“You should eat that,” she whispers. “You had P.E. today and you’re always hungry.”

She’s not wrong, but she’s missing the point. He checks the clock again; there’s only a few minutes left until time to go meet Zen. He’s got to do something, and the strawberry snack still hanging out there in midair is not it. He’s just pulling it back- she does have his number, of course he’s hungry- when her fingers close around his wrist. She leans in and delicately takes the strawberry with her teeth.

Obi doesn’t breathe. Too many pairs of eyes watch them; he can feel every single one on the back of his neck.

He knows exactly what Zen would do now.

He really shouldn’t do it. Shirayuki looks at him with those big green eyes, and even the way she chews is cute. Maybe it comes with the DNA, the need to lean in and kiss her. If Zen’s body does it, does it matter that it’s Obi inside? <I don’t know what else to do,> he says. His hand reaches out, slow enough that she can stop him at any time, and rests against her cheek. It’s as soft as it’s always looked.

He leans across the desk. She doesn’t pull away. No, she leans in and meets him the last few inches, soft and chaste and sweet as the strawberry he can smell on her breath. And she lingers, a slow breath until she pulls back and her eyelids flutter open. It’s the nicest kiss Obi’s ever had, and it’s not even his.

“I should go.” The words drag out of him with an effort. He should be more forgiving of Zen; the fact he gets anything done through this haze of sweetness is a miracle.

“Don’t be late to class,” she says. There’s a look on her face that’s not quite normal, and if he had leisure to study he would figure it all out, but there’s no time. “And finish your lunch.”

“See you soon,” he says. He does remember to grab the right backpack, and if he’s floating through the halls to the meeting point with a lovesick grin on his face, that’s no different than Zen looks most days. Nobody will ever notice the difference.

[ria-writes-stories]

For: @taminam02 because- art- I dunno I just wanna show my appreciation towards an artist that I enjoy the content of very much

Ship: Smokey bat (Uzi x Sam, cuz I noticed they liked the last one)

Genre: Romance, Cotton

Title: Cozzy cats

---------

(No one's pov)

Uzi was simply doodling in class, as usual, because her intelligence was far above the average of the class, meaning that every work that the teacher assigned to the class was under stimulating for her, therefore...the teacher gave a challenge enough for her. "Uzi, Sam, pair one for the group project-" "WHAT?!" Uzi said snapping her head up as her eyes widen while she broke the pencil she was holding in her hand as a few other students near her got startled by her sudden burst of a loud scream.

The teacher sighed and rolled his eyes. "Uzi- you need to partner up and develop social skills-" "I DON'T NEED 'EM!" Uzi said standing up on the desk angrily. "Ugh, Uzi please sit down." The teacher said rubbing his forehead as Uzi proceeded to point at the teacher while pressing the poor student's head in front of her onto the desk using it as support for the strange cat like position she was in. "BITE ME!"

The discussion was cut short by the bell and everyone left the classroom as did the teacher leaving Uzi unable to negotiate to do her project on her own, like always.

Uzi groaned loudly in annoyance as she kicked a chair and crossed her arms over her hands before hearing a snore which caught her off guard, startling her and making her turn around to see where the noise came from. To her surprise a drone was asleep, resting their head on their arms, folded over on the desk. He was wearing a cozy sweater and a beanie with his eye color a magenta. Sam was of course as usually far too stoned to be aware of what is going around him so there is no surprise that he was sleeping during class and even now when classes were over, just now Uzi realised the true challenge she had in front of her, however...she saw it as an opportunity. If he was this spaced off she could still do the project on her own and just write his name at the end of it. Great! Should she tell him about the project? Probably. It was the decend thing to do after all, right? Yeah.

Uzi walked over and gently shook him. "Hey- wake up." "Hm-? Duuude- huh?" Sam looked up at Uzi puzzled as if he expected someone else. "Uhm...so we got paired up for a project but-" "Where is everyone?" Sam asked confused as he looked around tiredly. "They left- school is over. As I was saying we got paired up for a project and-" "Who are you-?" "STOP INTRERRUPTING ME!" Uzi snapped like a hissy feline as Sam's eyes widen in shock as he raised his hands up. "We got paired up for a project however you do not have to do anything, I will do everything and credit your name as well so I'll be going off now, also my name is Uzi-" "Oh-? But- paired up for a project means we both work dudette." "Have you not been listening? Why even would you want to work when you can just not? Also what's a dudette-" "Dudette, it would be unfair if I let you do everything, come on I can do something too." Uzi looked at Sam utterly confuse as he got up and Uzi got a reality check on how tall this guy was besides her, as if it wasn't enough that she was already shorter than Lizzy and Doll...

"Ugh! Fine-! Just- follow me I guess." Uzi mumbled as she took her backpack and started to head out as Sam followed her covering his mouth as he yawned.

Uzi was thinking about the project while Sam followed close behind her, and before Uzi knew she was in her home. Strange...usually she was so lost in thoughts she bumped into all of the doors on her way somewhere, well, usually she didn't have Sam behind her to notice that she's so concentrated in her own world that she could hurt herself, so, he simply opened all of the doors and kept them open until she passed by, hell he even greeted Khan by waving, catching the old man off guard but he didn't seem to question much about why Sam was there or following Uzi, he was too uninterested.

Uzi threw her backpack on the ground. "Take a sit somewhere or something." Uzi said waving her hand as she took out her notebooks and school manuals.

Sam simply flopped onto the bed, resting on his back as he closed his eyes and simply breathed while Uzi opened her PC and began to take care of the project since she already does all of her homework throughout the week the moment she receives it, sometimes doing it during school recess and the small break between lessons as to save up time. Boring details shoo. Any who, while Uzi was working on the project Sam proceeded to get up and sat his head on Uzi's.

"?! What are you doing?" Uzi said with a slight blush on her cheeks as Sam simply looked at the screen. "I told you it's not fair if you are the only one to do the work dudette." Sam said as he placed his hand on Uzi's, which was resting on the mouse of the PC, which caused the angsty rebellious teen to blush further.

He moved it around and clicking at stuff, adding customize to the project, with some surprisingly intriguing animations and features that aren't found in the base of the program, things that Sam simply did on the moment in a few clicks. Uzi was genuinely impressed. "How... did you do that?" "It's just shapes dudette, it's suuuuper easy!" Uzi said in his usual slow sheepish tone as he gave a dorky smile. "You- can't even read!" Uzi said absolutely flagger blasted by Sam's talent. "Yeah dudette, only pictures." He said pulling some papers from under his beanie. How did those fit there? Uzi wasn't going to ask...

Uzi took the files and went through there. They were all advanced programming and engineering! Most of them were indeed based on pictures. Uzi looked up at Sam with a spark of curiosity as she didn't know of any drone other than herself and her dad to be good at these things. "What classes do you take again?" "Advanced coding and engineering dudette, but you seem pretty sharp yourself, why don't you come to those classes?" Sam asked politely as Uzi blushed a bit at the compliment and looked away. "Shut up! And- uh- well- I did take them but I found them...boring so I-"

"Boring? Wo-ho! You are smart dudette!" Sam said doing finger guns at Uzi as he winked and Uzi proceeded to turn around in her chair since it had wheels as she frowned while her cheeks grew extremely hot as she wasn't used to compliments. "Uh-?" Sam said scratching his head as he didn't understand what he did wrong. "So- do we continue the project-?" "Yes! The project!" Uzi said snapping from her flustered self as she turned to the PC. "Uh- I don't have another chair, sorry." She said looking up at Sam. "That's ok, we can work on the bed." "..." Uzi looked at the bed, considered it, and decided to just get over with it.

For the next two hours Sam and Uzi worked on the project together with Sam resting his head on Uzi's and lazily placing his hand on her's and clicking things as he didn't have the energy to just ask her for the mouse so he could do the work himself, and Uzi was too flustered to correct this bad behaviour of his. The project was done before you knew it and as Uzi sat her laptop to it's place as she noticed that Sam was barely awake at this point. "Alright. You can head home now, thanks for the help." Uzi said closing her eyes as she opened the door waiting for Sam to leave but when she didn't hear anything she peeked with one eye and realised that Sam wasn't moving, was he...asleep?

Uzi went over and when she was about to poke him she suddenly got pulled in by a pair of surprisingly strong arms. "WOAH!" Uzi said in shock as Sam pulled her onto the bed, holding her closely to his chest out of instinct. He yawned and then proceeded to go to sleep resting his head on Uzi's. "Hey! Cut it off! Let me go!" Uzi said embarrassed as her cheeks went ablaze. Sam's response? He simply took Uzi's beanie off and held it in the air out of her reach while with the other hand he held her down. Uzi's eyes widened in shock, and they widened even more when she saw that Sam opened one eye and stuck his tongue out with a mischievous smile on his face.

Uzi was absolutely unable to react to this as she felt her heartbeat in her chest as she groaned and tried to get her beanie back squirming in Sam's hand as he simply watched Uzi with a smug smirk, and after a long time of struggling Sam simply placed Uzi's hat back on as he chuckled.* "You're cute dudette." *He said with a sheepish innocent warm smile as Uzi had to move her beanie since it was slightly over her eyes as she blushed madly looking away with a frown as she didn't want to admit that he managed in fact to get her to such a messy state.

An lazy orange cat and a devious black cat, but either way, a cat's a cat. All cats have a hint of mischief, and all cats are stubborn, but they still enjoy affection in whatever shape and manner that they receive it as long as it is gentle and soft.

Silence fell over the two and before you knew it Sam was sleeping while holding Uzi closely with his chest pressing against her back while she was on her phone before she eventually succumed to the warmth of his body.

Two cozy cats sleeping together.

The end

[enaelyork]

Long time ago in Breenthal IV (PART 2 ~ Sorry)

[Gif made by : @benmendo ]

First : thx you so much for all your support in my previous post about these two.

It was a bit of a chaotic thought about how Orson and Galen evolved on Breenthal IV and I had that sort of flash again this morning. So I wrote it all down in a beautiful, nameless mess. Sorry about that. I don't know how many parts there will be in this story (there was only supposed to be one) but I guess I'll write whatever comes to mind regarding Galen and Krennic. This can be interpreted as a deep friendship or something platonic.

I was supposed to write one paragraph but it's 3 pages...Sorry not sorry.

– I agree to follow you again but on one condition.

I look up at him and I guess he caught the look of surprise in my eyes. How long has he been doing this? Since when has negotiation been part of Galen Erso's vocabulary, he who has always been unconditional in everything he does: thinking, creating, living, befriending the worst person in this galaxy.

– Do you have a condition? Repeat I. He's smart enough to understand that 1) I'm not the type of guy to agree to conditions 2) he's following the worst example he could possibly have. Usually Galen doesn't argue when I take him on this kind of illegal expedition.

And it was this resignation that pushed me to move up a gear in transgression. This time our little nocturnal trip involves neither a classroom nor a clandestine laboratory constructed on the fly at one o'clock in the morning. This isn't about any of Galen's whims. It's my world. It was time for Galen to embark on a different type of discovery. He was ready. After months of seeing me, of guessing through my glassy looks that I sometimes slip into a reality parallel to his, Erso is going to go on an adventure into the unknown and he is so scared that he starts to act like me .

– I want you to take me home tonight.

I hope he's joking.

I have never accompanied anyone except those who end up in my bed.

– I am not your mother. I show you the way and I told you that if you got tired of it you could leave.

I lace up my impeccable pair of shoes then tuck my chaotic curls behind my ears with an indifferent air. He is not offended by the tone I use because he knows that it is a way of defending me against his attacks which further cracks the ice around my heart. And that's the worst part. He knows absolutely everything he does to me. The fact that he is the only person I still see after the twenty-four hours following our meeting or that I tolerate him much more than I do others are edifying proof of this.

– You don’t understand Orson. It's not a question of weariness, it's a question of calm. We go there together, we leave together.

- You are scared ?

For the first time since these ridiculous negotiations began, our eyes meet. I'm still standing in front of a dusty mirror that Galen only uses to reflect his thoughts, and he watches me perched on his bed, a glint in his eyes that tells me his mind is spinning like never before.

-Yes. But not for what you believe.

His words crack the air like a whip, lacerating my mind with such violence that I nearly lose my balance. Galen never had the physical strength going for him, but the impact of what he says can be as harsh as a punch to the gut. He says little, but the words are carefully chosen to hit where it hurts. Somewhere deep in my ribcage, where something pulses that I have decided to forget. Is he afraid for me? I quickly put the idea out of my head before it contaminates everything else and leaves me vulnerable to Galen's demands. But the latter is far too smart to let escape the loophole he has just opened and rushes in without having been invited, as usual.

– Do we just have to establish an emergency code? I chuckle. Him and his mania for putting codes anywhere.

– We are not in the programming class.

–Don’t pretend to be stupid.

I was thinking more of a word that would directly indicate to the other that this outing is degenerating and that we must return.

- A word ? My response should have been something like: If you think things are getting out of hand, get your shit together and go home. But instead, I play into his stupid game because I don't plan to go out without him tonight.

- A word. If you hear it it means it's too much for me. Do you want to take me to where you go out at night? Fine, but I want a guarantee that things are going well.

–And what is this word?

His eyes light up with amusement when he realizes that I have already accepted his offer without saying it.

- Treason.

I breathe loudly. How ironic. Isn’t that the word I constantly hear about myself from lips other than his?

- Your turn.

- Pardon ?

– It’s a code, Orson. You also need to have a word to put an end to this.

– In case you missed it, I don’t intend to end anything.

He is silent. Looks at me with his little air of unbearable genius and leaves me there with all my questions escaping without the slightest barrier to hold them back.

– A word, Orson. Just one.

- Sorry.

He widens his eyes, bats his eyelashes several times before snickering discreetly.

– It’s very unlikely that this word will ever come out of your mouth.

– You understood everything, Galen. Now let's go. I'm tired of this little game and we're going to be late.

However, as I am about to cross the threshold of his door, dragging him with me, a strong resistance pins me to the spot. Freezes me and forces me to turn around. Galen's hand is so firmly anchored to my wrist that one more step would tear my hand away.

– Will you promise me?

I raise my eyebrows, falsely surprised and pretending not to understand.

– Will you promise to stop this if I ask you? To bring me back here? The trap seemed to be closing on me for good. I had accepted this stupid game of code, I had even agreed to listen to this whole absurd conversation instead of taking him away by force and presenting him with a fait accompli. I was no longer one scam away from him and I noted with anguish that he was surpassing his master in terms of negotiation.

—I guess I have to if I want to keep my hand. I pause before looking him straight in the eyes as if I were about to seal an oath. I promise you, Galen. I won't leave you alone there.

—

Spoiler: I didn’t keep my promise.

I knew I was going to screw up the moment Britley slipped a glass into my hand and waved her sparkling emeralds before my eyes. I was lost in the cacophony of the music, the throes of the alcohol, and I didn't know how long it had been going on when Galen's grip tightened on my shoulder.

– Orson, stop that right now.

He had dragged me to the dingy bench seat of the bar away from my group of friends and my survival instinct had pushed me to grab a bottle as I passed and put it to my mouth to give me the courage to confront him. I burst out laughing under his nose, sure I'm making him drunk with just my breath.

- Stop what ?

Don't force me. His gaze pleaded with me as I taunted him with this bottle, still far too full for my liking. I took a sip before presenting it to him to lighten the mood but he coldly declined. Galen had refused a single drink of alcohol since we had been here, I was pretty sure of that, just as he had refused the advances and taunts of those who were surprised to see him here.

– If you want me to stop, just say so.

Looking back, I realize that I provoked it. I was drunk and the alcohol fueled all the worst things in me, starting with my pride and my anger. I wanted him to capitulate because in my eyes he was the one who started this stupid, sick game. He could have been content to follow me without discussion, without seeking guarantees and commitment to me, but obviously, things could not be simple with him, he always had to complicate them.

So he shut up. He was content to pierce me with his murderous gaze and I saw nothing pleasant in it. Galen had the gift of seeing the good in me, always and probably he was the only one in the world to do so, but it was not only in this area that he excelled.

He also showed me all my horror, in a way no one else could.

Nothing came out of his mouth, but his eyes spoke. What he let me see was how much I bothered him, how sad my lack of control made him. He wasn't sad for himself - even though he was perfectly aware that I was ripping him off - but for me and that made me all the more abject.

– If you have nothing to say, you can leave. I say, averting my gaze to meet those of more amusing people who urge me to join them quickly.

I had just spit in the face of the person who was closest to a friend in my eyes and I had done it precisely for that. Because all I would have to do is bat my eyelashes in front of him tomorrow for everything to go smoothly. Galen forgave me everything, all the time. And I turned my back on him.

----

Three days.

He hasn't spoken to me for three days.

Three days of these incessant thoughts coming back to my head.

He didn't say it.

He didn't say it when we were arguing at that bar table. He didn't say it when he saw me hug this girl and drag her upstairs with me. He didn't say it afterward, because his shadow vanished and I fell asleep unaware of what would haunt me next.

Reality.

He didn't say a word, not because he knew I didn't care. But because he preferred to remain silent, to take it upon himself rather than force me to break the promise I made to him. And it tears my heart. Shit; It's horrible to admit it but it tears my heart.

Every time I pass by his bedroom door it remains closed even though it is constantly ajar waiting for me to push it. Galen avoids me, tries to act as if nothing had happened but maintains a reasonable - unbearable - distance between us.

When I observe him from a distance, nothing seems to change in his attitude. He remains deep in thought, but I know everything is different. For the average motel, Galen is constantly immersed in a deep meditative state that helps him see more clearly in the flood of scientific reasoning that assail him.

Except, he no longer meditates.

He ruminates.

He broods and buries himself in something so dark it terrifies me. Something that not only isolates him from others, but also from me. And when he gets jostled in the canteen, once again, and bursts of laughter escape into the room, I throw myself at him to grab his arm, exactly like him that evening.

- Talk to me.

He doesn't even bother to reject me. Turns his head, stands up indifferently and takes his empty tray to put it back on the display before walking. Only his pace indicates that he is running away from me when he enters the long corridor of the programming workshops.

–Galen.

I follow him. It drives me crazy but in the end I wonder which of us is the loneliest in the world at this precise moment. Him, me. The two of us against the rest of the world?

- Shit !

Usually my swearing shocks him, but not even my rudeness shakes him out of his torpor. He doesn't stop, doesn't turn his head, moving without hesitation towards the elevator that leads to the dormitories in an attempt to escape me.

- Sorry !

The word leaves my mouth as my arm blocks the elevator door from closing on him and he freezes. Alone in the metal cage, he observes me, asking the same question as me: did I say it to stop this stupid game or for a completely different reason?

– I didn’t want to bring you back the other night. I wanted you to understand that you were capable of living with others without being afraid. He needs to stop staring at me like he does. I'll slap him, or cry, or maybe do both at the same time. In any case I'm damned if I still dare to believe that I'm ruthless towards everyone. The world is not Galen Erso.

– And you did it. I add before entering the elevator to join him. The door closes behind me and the machine starts up with a dull whir.

I wait, but only his shining eyes prove to me that he is still alive.

- I have a question.

Why did you do that ? Why you lied to me ? Am I really your friend? Are you making fun of me like they do? It was a preview of what he could ask of me. The doors had just opened to the dormitory and the only question I had was whether he was going to leave me here or let me follow him.

– Professor Lawrence told me that I had to solve the equation on the fusion of steels with crystals by modifying the first part of the calculation. He tells me that it is dangerous to want to take the risk by modifying the very essence of the materials, but I do not agree with him...

I freeze.

I feel like I'm missing the air as the cool breeze from outside rushes in in a draft.

– Do you think I should listen to him? Because really, I'm not sure that's the solution. And I've been thinking about it for three days, I can't sleep Orson... You understand. What if…What if…

He pauses, his throat tightens and I can tell in his eyes that he is collapsing.

- You were not there.

And this sentence, more than his silence, reduces my pride and my arrogance to pieces. If I wasn't Orson, if I hadn't grown up in a world different from his, maybe I would have allowed myself to touch him. But it’s also part of us, all of that, this crazy awkwardness that constitutes the very essence of our bond.

– You know what I think about all this, right? Of obedience.

[master-jarrus]

So about the bikes separate from the poll just so that post doesn't become all jumbled with photos and I can make sure I am completely up front because I want to be genuine

So bikes are cheaper and cars keep being extremely problematic for my husband and I

We don't have kids and it's just the two of us so two motorcycles are actually a really convenient  and viable option for us

(They are also more eco friendly if you take care of them right but that's for another day)

So no matter what way the vote goes I am getting a bike

However, bikes are still more than a grand and while we can afford it, we can't afford it.

It's one of those weird spots of like yes we can. But everything else will be tight

That's where the vote idea came in from

I am unable to find jobs that are actually hiring

AND my career field of costuming, sewing, etc is dying. No one has these skills anymore unless they are really old or weird gremlins like me. So sewing shops that would hire me are impossible to find

So I thought hey I know how to cosplay and I'm professionally trained (it was actually a certificate I was pursuing they just refused to offer the last 2 classes) in it

Maybe other people would like to see me actually cosplay and watch and learn how to make good quality costumes and props from scratch/as scratch as possible

This happened to coincide with us looking at bikes and an tiny event on tiktok where I got yelled at by cosplayers for saying I wasn't a professional so I decided to ask if people would be interested in a cosplay that combines everything together

The vote isn't over yet but so far (I voted just to see the votes but it doesn't skew the results I promise) everyone seems in favor so unless a bunch of people suddenly vote no I am going to start setting stuff up

In the meantime here are the update bikes we are looking at

2008 Suzuki, owner already responded. They are active duty military and is on a training thing so when they come back we be looking at the bike

The silhouette is already pretty close to Lloyd's main thing I would need to do is paint. And then I would probably change the tires to handle touring (long distances). I may also make the mirrors bigger. This will make my ability to see better and also aids in the cartoonish look

Older bike that might make it harder to find parts if it ever needs a repair

Clean title

*my husband is also active duty and this may give us good negotiating leverage

2018 Suzuki, owner has not responded and some of the pictures appear to be stock photos which makes me a little wary because that's unusual for a non dealership seller

Same cosmetics as the above bike

Newer bike if it needs to repaired we can probably find the parts. But it may require more premium gas

Clean title

2005 Kawasaki Ninja, only recently found it. I will be showing it to my husband when he gets back from work. I haven't contacted the owner yet because my husband is not in the loop yet

Would just need paint, bigger mirrors and the touring tires

Older bike might make repairs difficult

No titled mentioned

Those are the 3 bikes, because the title isn't mentioned on the ninja it will likely get removed.

Unfortunately theft is common in my area and my husband and I have even had a vehicle stolen from us so anything that doesn't have a title is sketchy

Anyways I hope this was informative and not just me rambling and I will be working on that youtube video today if my internet likes me enough

[alltid-og-for-evig]

TVDU Femslash Week - Day One: Canon Rewrite

Josie doesn’t stay in Belgium, instead, she comes home. . .

The bell rings, and Finch closes her textbook and sighs. Finally. It’s always harder to go to class at the end of the year, with summer in the air. Some of the other wolves slap Finch on the back and ask her about later plans, and Finch laughs along with them, but her mind is already on the smoothie she’s been craving since lunch. 

Not the kind they have at the school, one from town. Something fruity. . . 

Finch drops her things off in her room, grabs her keys, and then heads down the halls to the front door. 

“Hey,” Jed says as he falls in line with her. 

“What’s up?” Finch asks. 

“The pack is trying to negotiate with the new Headmistress about letting us wolves out during the full moon,” Jed starts. 

“Whoa, really? What about the townies? What someone gets hurt?” Finch asks. 

It’s only been a little over two weeks since the whole Ken and the Gods thing. Finch thought things would settle down, and for the most part they have, but since Dr. Saltzman left, Finch has heard rumblings about different things each supernatural faction wants. 

But, whatever Jed says in return falls away from Finch’s ears when they round the corner. Everything falls away.

There, standing at the doors to the school, is. . . 

“Josie?” Finch calls out. 

Josie turns, and when their eyes meet, a huge smile blossoms on her lips. 

“Finch!” Josie drops her bags and crosses the space between them. 

Finch shakes her head, arms already out to hug her. “I thought you were in Europe. I thought you were going to stay there?” 

Josie falls into her arms, and it feels so right that Finch nearly cries. It hasn’t been too long, but she missed Josie. With all of her heart. Having her back now, safe and warm, feels like a dream. 

Josie pulls away, but doesn’t leave Finch’s arms. “I thought about it. But, I don’t think my place is there.” 

“So. . .” Finch dares to hope. “You’re staying?” 

Josie nods. “I’m staying. And,” she takes Finch’s hands, “if you’ll have me, I thought we could figure us out.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Finch breathes. “I’m just so happy you’re back.” 

“Me too.” Josie smiles. 

[emptycoffeemug]

The door opens and the sounds of chaos flood into the tiny office like a fanfare announcing the arrival a boy with a mop of unruly red curls.

It's orientation day in hell's elite prep school for future contractors, the Mephistocles Institute, and chaos is to be expected, but the noise seems to have more terrified screams than usual, and the boy in front of you is not terrified in the least. He's grinning.

You sigh, brushing back a stray snake as you find his file. Jacob Davidson. A human. First ever recipient of the Expelled scholarship, a prestigious award for humans only. The requirement was for no other school to be willing to take them. In other words, a problem child.

You are just a humble school advisor in hell. You don't get paid enough to deal with delinquent human children.

"So Jacob", you say, "it's nice to meet you. I'll be your advisor while your at school here. We'll be scheduling your classes today."

" Good to meet you as well, Miss Bellatrix," the boy says, eying the nameplate on my desk.

He has his hands in the pockets of a leather jacket, which definitely does not fit the dress code. He seems rather self assured. When you had been assigned to the first ever human to attend the school, you had expected to deal with a whimpering mess. You find yourself thinking you would prefer a whimpering mess.

" I hope you didn't run into any trouble out there?" You say. "Our students can be a bit rowdy on the first day."

" They didn't bother me much," he grins." Not after I showed them who's boss."

You aren't quite sure what he meant by that but it isn't your concern. Just as you are about to start going over classes, a knock sounds outside the door.

Immediately after it opens. A well dressed devil enters. He carries a briefcase and flashes an ID. The logo of the Doomsday Bureau gleams in gold.

You rise to your feet. "Inspector, what brings yo-"

He shushes you with a wave of his hand." This is the boy, I presume." He settles a pair of spectacles on his nose. Really he's a fine looking demon. Jet black hair pulled back in a bun revealing the designs traced on the side of his head...you turn your attention back to more serious matters.

The inspector has pulled out a sheath of papers and deposited them in front of the boy. "We'd like to make a deal with you," he says simply. "Everything you could ever want if you keep to its conditions."

This whole time, the grin hasn't left the boy's face. If anything he seems amused by all the occurences. "And why should I?" He asks.

The inspector seems taken aback." It's your destiny to help us," he explains. "Besides, if you'd rather not, I intend to persuade you."

"Oh I intend to make a deal with you. But I'll write it myself."

"Preposterous!" The inspector growls." The terms are absolutely non negotiable."

The boy ducks his head down below the desk for a few moments, and pops up again with a battered violin under his chin. "Then I hope you like to dance."

The inspector's eyes widen. "No one told me the antichrist was a fiddler."

"Well he is one and he has a name."

"Mister Davidson."

"Please, call me Harley. I think we'll be getting to know each other real well."

You are the first human to attend a school full of demons. Despite your appearance, the demons run away in fear at the sight of you. You tell your school advisor about this.

[diamonddaze01]

contractual obligations

pairing: csc x f!reader | wc: 1.7k au: rival ceos, suggestive | warnings: none a/n: based on eunha’s @svtiddiess ask for my 101 drabble prompt game! // surprise i’m also turning this into a series bc i can heheheh (i am a slut for coups in a suit)

The conference room is tense, charged with the weight of years of rivalry. Seungcheol leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the polished wood of the table, eyes focused on you like a hawk. His posture is casual, but there’s a sharpness to his presence—his shoulders squared, his chin slightly lifted in that challenging, arrogant way you’ve always known. He’s not smiling, but there's something about his gaze that feels like a challenge. It’s a look you’ve become all too familiar with—a look that’s made you want to prove him wrong countless times over the years.

You’ve been in the corporate world long enough to know that every move matters—every word, every decision. The stakes today? High enough to change the entire balance of power between your companies. The air crackles with a tension that’s almost palpable, as if the room itself knows what’s at stake. You both lead competing tech conglomerates, giants in the industry, and for the past few years, it's been a constant battle for market dominance. But it’s not just business. No, it’s personal. You and Seungcheol go way back—back to university, back to the days when his arrogance rubbed you the wrong way, and you refused to let him get away with anything. Over the years, your rivalry evolved from petty arguments in class to fierce corporate wars, but the history between you two? It’s always there, lurking just beneath the surface.

Today’s meeting is supposed to be a discussion of a potential merger. Your company has made an offer, and while Seungcheol’s company seems interested, everyone knows it’s just a power play. The terms you’ve proposed have ruffled his feathers. You’re not here for collaboration; you're here to win. The glance you exchange with him speaks volumes—this isn’t just a business negotiation anymore. It's another battleground in your long-running war.

“Honestly,” Seungcheol starts, his voice smooth but carrying an edge, “I didn’t expect you to bring such a weak proposal to the table. Did you forget who you’re dealing with?” His words are a direct shot, aimed to provoke. His gaze lingers on the stack of papers in front of you, his eyes sharp, as though daring you to challenge him. He knows your company is doing well, but he's banking on you not being able to match his vision.

You glance up at him, your smile tight, but filled with all the quiet confidence you’ve perfected over the years. “Careful, Seungcheol,” you say, leaning forward, your voice low but cutting. Your fingers graze the edge of the table as you push yourself closer, and the air around you seems to thicken. “Why don’t you say that to my face?”

He leans forward as well, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk. “I was waiting for you to offer, darling,” he taunts, his eyes flickering to your lips as he speaks, his body language relaxed, but there's a subtle tension in his shoulders, a coiled readiness. “But now that you’ve made your move…”

“Don’t be so sure of yourself,” you snap, eyes flashing. “You’re not the only one who knows how to play the game.”

The tension in the room rises, thickening with every exchanged glance. Every word is a chess move, every gesture a challenge. You and Seungcheol have been like this for as long as you can remember—two people fighting for dominance in the boardroom, constantly testing each other, testing the limits of each other's patience. The room feels smaller now, suffocating, as if the air itself is charged with the history between you both.

You think back to college—those late nights after finals, when the stress of everything would hit you both at once. There were times when your arguments would escalate so quickly, fueled by frustration and alcohol, that you’d both end up drunk and tangled in each other’s sheets by the end of the night. The first time it happened, it was a blur—too many shots, too many harsh words. You’d fought over everything, your careers, your egos, and yet somehow, it had all led to a kiss, desperate and full of anger. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t even a conscious decision—it was just... there. A moment of release, a way to escape the tension you’d built up over years of rivalry.

The next morning? Business as usual. You’d wake up, both pretending it didn’t happen, both burying it under layers of professionalism and polite indifference. No words, no acknowledgment—just another argument waiting to happen.

It happened more times than you’d care to admit. Every time, you’d both get too drunk, argue too fiercely, and fall into bed with each other. But then, just like that, you’d go back to being business enemies the next day, like nothing had ever changed. It was a cycle. A dangerous one.

But today, it feels different. The air is charged with something heavier, something you both can’t ignore anymore. There’s something in the way his gaze lingers on you now—something unspoken, something that hasn't been there before.

You stand up slowly, your heels clicking against the floor with precision as you walk toward him, each step purposeful, controlled. The sharp sound of your footsteps seems to echo in the silence of the room, heightening the anticipation. Your eyes lock with his, and you see the subtle shift in his expression—his jaw tightens, and his fingers curl ever so slightly against the table. The smirk falters, just for a second, like he can sense the shift in the air, but he doesn’t move. He’s waiting for you to make the next move, and he’s damn good at that—waiting, studying, calculating.

“You still think you can beat me at my own game?” Seungcheol asks, his voice dropping into something darker, more dangerous. His lips twitch, as if he's testing you, but there's an unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

“Not beat,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, the words slow and deliberate. “Outsmart.”

He looks at you, his gaze flickering from your lips to your eyes, and for a moment, you can almost see the walls he’s been building up between you start to crack. He doesn’t respond immediately, his lips curling into a grin that’s more of a challenge than a smile.

You stop in front of him, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint trace of his cologne—a deep, earthy scent with hints of tobacco and cedarwood, warm and familiar, wrapping around you like a cloak. His body is a wall of muscle beneath the tailored suit, his breath steady but heavy as if he's trying to control the urge to lean in, to close the distance between you.

Your breath mingles with his, and for just a moment, the world outside the conference room seems to fade away. The tension between you two is palpable, so thick you could almost reach out and touch it. You lean in just a fraction, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin, the faintest brush of his hair against your cheek, but you stop, your lips hovering just shy of his. He stiffens, eyes widening as the distance between you seems to grow even though you're inches apart.

Your breath mingles with his, and for just a moment, the world outside the conference room seems to fade away. The tension between you two is palpable, so thick you could almost reach out and touch it. You lean in just a fraction, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin, the faintest brush of his hair against your cheek, but you stop, your lips hovering just shy of his. He stiffens, eyes widening as the distance between you seems to grow even though you're inches apart.

Without saying another word, you pull away slowly, your smirk teasing as you watch his eyes flicker with surprise, his lips parting to say something, but the words catch in his throat, his breath hitching as he watches you pull back. His eyes narrow with a flash of frustration.

“What—” He starts to speak, but you don’t let him finish.

He leans in, instinctively reaching for you, but you stay just out of reach, savoring the way his body tightens with the struggle for control. His gaze flickers with a wild, desperate heat, and you know exactly what he’s feeling—a challenge to his authority, his dominance, his carefully curated calm.

Without saying another word, Seungcheol reaches up and grabs your chin with a firm, almost possessive grip, his thumb brushing the delicate line of your jaw. He pulls you toward him, his lips pressing hard against yours in a kiss that’s rough, demanding, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as you.

Before you can fully process the move, he shifts, guiding you to straddle his lap, your knees settling on either side of his thighs. The sudden proximity is overwhelming—his chest presses against yours, his hands instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His breath is hot against your lips as he deepens the kiss, his mouth moving against yours with urgency, as though he’s been starved for this connection.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as you kiss him back with just as much intensity, your body already responding to the heat of the moment. There’s no going back now—not with the tension between you both finally snapping, no more masks or barriers left. The years of rivalry, of suppressed desires, of everything that’s been left unsaid, all pour into this kiss. It's messy, it’s urgent, and it’s undeniable.

When you finally pull away, both of you breathless, his hands still on your hips, keeping you steady on his lap, the room feels quieter—almost like the world has momentarily stopped spinning. His lips hover near yours, and you can feel the pulse of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

“I—” He starts to speak, but you stop him, your lips brushing against his once more.

“Still think you can outsmart me?” you whisper, voice low and teasing, knowing full well that it’s no longer just about the game.

He smirks, his grip tightening around you, but the wild glint in his eyes says it all. “We’ll see, darling. We’ll see.”

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[oh-my-damn]

Justification

A/N: Chapter nine of Diplomatic Negotiations

Series Summary: Newly dumped and freshly fucked by a handsome stranger you met at a bar, you start your final year at college in high spirits. Only to realize that your new teacher in your Diplomatic Negotiations class, is none other than the guy you had an amazing one night stand with.

Chapter Warnings: Angst and tensions, Hayden being a little bitch for a while. FLUFF. SO MUCH fluff! SMUT - p in v, shower sex, oral /f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, filthy teacher ari, daddy kink, teasing, choking, dumbification, degradation (mild), praise (lots), petnames. A lot of sex and sweet moments and lovemaking and fluff in this one!

Word Count: 9000 (I would apologize, but...)

The beautiful divider is by @firefly-graphics

"Hayden," You stammer out, eyes wide with shock, "What are you doing here?"

Hayden is frozen in shock, wide eyes locked on Ari, mouth agape as his mind processes the information in front of him.

"Hayden," Andrea says sternly, finally making him snap out of it when she gently guides Ari back towards you and steps in front of him to face Hayden. She crosses her arms over her chest, "We moved our plans to tomorrow, what are you doing here?"

"Y-you-," he stammers, still looking at Ari who is now standing behind Andrea in the hallway, shielding half of you as you hold onto his arm. "You said you weren't feeling well," he finally says, turning his sights to Andrea, "So I.. I brought soup."

He lifts his hand, revealing a take out bag, and you sigh audibly.

"Hayden," you say, pushing past Ari and Andrea before you grab his arm, "Get in here."

You pull him inside, and he stumbles a little as you close the door behind him. He's watching you with wide eyes still, darting between you and Ari.

Ari stays quiet, watching Hayden carefully, unsure what to say or do in this situation.

You put your hands on Hayden's shoulders, offering him a small smile, "Come have some wine, I'll explain everything. Okay?"

You're sitting at the dining table across from Hayden, the glass of wine in front of him. Ari is by your side, although he's considerably less close than before, while Andrea is sitting next to Hayden and Jessica is leaning against the counter, watching you.

"So," you breathe out, folding your hands on the table, "Remember how we agreed to allow the other to keep their secret?"

Hayden nods once, his eyes glancing to Ari before they move back to you.

"This is my secret," you say with a small smile, "And now I'm going to need you to keep it."

Hayden remains quiet, his shocked expression staying locked on you before he suddenly picks up the glass of wine and chugs it in one sweep. He cringes as he swallows, setting the glass back down on the table with a clink.

"What the fuck is this?" Hayden asks, finally speaking, "What's he doing here, what's the secret exactly?"

You tilt your head a little, "I think you already know."

"Mr. Levinson?!" He exclaims incredulously, leaning on the table towards you, "You're fucking Mr. Levinson, our teacher?!"

You let out a deep sigh, about to interject when Ari does it for you, speaking for the first time since Hayden arrived.

"That's not what it's like," he says calmly, watching Hayden as he turns his incredulous gaze to him, "We're not fucking, we're.. Dating."

"But you're old!" Hayden exclaims, throwing his hands up to make a point, "And you're our teacher! Why the fuck would you do that!"

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, and you can sense how Ari tenses beside you, his jaw clenching.

"Hayden," you say, his attention snapping back to you, "You don't understand, this isn't-"

"Oh I think I understand perfectly," Hayden scoffs, "I remember how Sheila and Sarah were gushing over him, I just figured you'd be different. He's taking advantage of you, don't you realize that? Fucking a student is crossing so many lines, it's like a kink, it's-"

"Hey," Ari says sternly, effectively shutting Hayden up, "That's not what it's like. We knew each other before I started teaching the class."

"What?" Hayden asks, his expression changing from angry to confused, "What does that mean?"

You sigh and look down at your folded hands on the table, "We hooked up the weekend before class started. I had no idea he was going to teach our class until I walked into the auditorium on Monday morning."

Hayden frowns, "Okay, I see how that's complicated, but you're still now fucking him while he's our teacher. This is breaking so many rules, it's like, illegal. Not to mention gross."

Ari scoffs and shakes his head, his stern gaze practically burning into Hayden's skull, "It's not illegal, we're both adults. And I'm not even permanent faculty, I'm only a guest lecturer for this semester." Then he cocks a brow, "And I'll choose to let that last comment slide, considering the situation right now."

Hayden scoffs obnoxiously, frowning angrily as he looks at Ari, "Like you even have a leg to stand on, you should be ashamed of yourself. I can't believe I actually respected you, this is so far out, and the fact that you don't even realize makes it so much worse."

You sigh deeply as you cover your face with your hands, mumbling into your palms, "This is a fucking mess."

"You think?!" Hayden exclaims, and you can practically feel the anger oozing off of him. Andrea puts a hand on his arm to calm him, but he remains furious.

"Hayden, please," you say quietly, dropping your hands to look at him, "Please, just.. Just listen, okay? It's not what you think, we're not just hooking up, we're dating. I lo- I like him, alright? We're.. We're together, and it works, and we're happy. We're not hurting anyone by being together."

Ari glances at you at your words, his features softening a little. But then they harden again when Hayden speaks.

"It's not ethical and you should realize that. Besides, isn't he like, twice your age? Do you have any idea how many guys on the football team would love to date you? Half of them begged me for your number after the bonfire, why would you date an old man when you could have anyone?!"

"Hey," Andrea says sternly, making Hayden look at her, "Shut the fuck up, you don't know what you're talking about. He's a good guy, and he cares about her a lot. It doesn't matter how old he is."

The angry rant you were about to fling in Hayden's direction is swallowed at Andrea's words, your form relaxing a little. Ari is tense as he sits besides you, clearly biting his tongue, and you commend his ability to stay cool when Hayden is being so disrespectful right now.

Hayden scans Andrea's face for a moment, "How long have you known about this?"

"The entire time," she replies as she looks at him, "I was there when they met at the club, I've known the whole time."

"And you didn't tell me?"

Andrea shakes her head, "No, I didn't tell you, because I was worried about how you'd react. And you're confirming my worries by acting like a dick right now."

You watch Hayden's brows furrow before his face turns more apologetic. He turns to look at his empty glass of wine, and then grabs the bottle, pouring another one that he immediately takes a large sip of.

"Fine," he says as he puts the glass back down and looks up, eyes bouncing between you and Ari, "Fine, I'll listen. Tell me everything."

You spend a long time talking to Hayden, doing your best to explain everything that's happened in the short span of time you've known Ari. Hayden listens intently, and you can tell he's conflicted.

"So this is like.. Real, then?" He asks you, glancing over at Ari, "Are you guys planning on being together once he's done teaching?"

You look over at Ari, whose eyes meet yours for a moment before you both turn back to look at Hayden, "Uh, we haven't really talked about it-" you start to say, but Ari interjects.

"That's the plan, yes."

Hayden nods at his words, eyeing you for a moment before he focuses on Ari, "You really care about her? This isn't just for sex?"

"Yes, I care about her," Ari replies immediately, "She's special. It's not just sex, I know it may seem weird because of the circumstances, but I've liked her since the moment I met her. I want to date her. And I'm risking a lot to do it because I couldn't stay away from her."

Hayden nods at Ari's words, and you can feel excitement blooming inside, butterflies swarming around your belly.

You smile softly, looking at Hayden hesitantly, "Will you keep our secret? Please, H. I know it's a lot to ask, but he's really important to me."

Hayden's features soften when he looks at you and the genuine expression on your face. He smiles a little, gazing at you for a moment before he nods and quietly replies, "Okay, yes. I'll keep your secret. I promise."

You and Ari both release a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing where you sit.

But then Hayden turns to Ari, "If you break her heart I'm coming for you. I can take you, old man. Don't try me."

Ari nods once, offering Hayden a small smile, "Noted. I won't break her heart."

"Good."

About half an hour later, Andrea brings Hayden to her room to talk through everything, which finally gives you some reprieve. Jessica retired to her bedroom, and you immediately take Ari's hand and tug him with you in the direction of yours.

Ari chuckles softly at your eagerness, his fingers entwining with yours, "Where we going, sweetheart?"

"My room," you mumble, pulling him closer until he needs to grip your waist to keep from crashing into your back, "We need some alone time."

Ari smiles at your words, the worries from earlier slowly dissipating. For a moment he wondered whether this would be the end for the two of you; he worried that some of what Hayden was saying would sink in, make you change your mind.

Hayden was wrong about some of the things he said, but not everything. Ari is old. Too old for you. You still have your entire life ahead of you whereas his has hit that comfortable space where he's ready to stop running around and settle down instead.

He knows you don't have any dreams for the future — or at least he knows that's what you keep telling yourself, as well as others.

He suspects you actually do have dreams. Perhaps you don't like to say them out loud, either out of worry that they won't come true, or out of worry that you'll get judged for them.

But he knows you. He's watched you, your work ethic, how dedicated you are. There's not a doubt in his mind that you dream of something, even if you say you don't. And he hopes one day you'll trust him enough to tell him what it is.

Ari follows behind you as you push open the door to your bedroom, ushering him inside. You close it behind the two of you, leaning up against it as he takes a few steps inside.

Ari glances around with a soft smile on his face, taking in your private space.

It's filled with pictures of your friends and presumably your family, as well as posters and memorabilia. It's a little cluttered, but in the cute way, the kind that lets him know that despite there being a lot of stuff, every single item has it's own dedicated spot.

His eyes land on your bed, not quite as big as his king-sized one, and the floral patterned bedding covering it. He smirks as he turns back to look at you, "I like your room. Very cozy."

"You think so?" You reply meekly, taking a few steps closer to him, "Yours is so.. Clean, and organized. I didn't know if mine would give you like.. A heart attack, or something."

Ari barks out a laugh, shaking his head, "No sweetheart, no heart attacks yet. So far so good."

He looks around again, eyes fanning over the jewelry hung by the mirror, the different colored nail polish carefully placed on a shelf. Then his eyes move further, zeroing in on a plushie sitting on a chair in the corner of your room. "Who's that?"

"Hm?" You murmur, your mind elsewhere. Having him in your space like this feels so intimate, in an entirely different way than you're used to, and suddenly you feel so young and immature compared to him. His place is organized and tidy, whereas you hold on to memorabilia like they're a part of you. Which, technically, they are.

You look up as Ari takes a few steps away from you, eyes immediately widening when he walks in the direction of your stuffie.

"Oh," you immediately say, tensing a little, "Oh, uh, that's.. Nothing."

Ari picks up the penguin, his fingers brushing over the soft fur before he adjusts the little gold bow tie around its neck. "What's his name?"

Your cheeks immediately heat up as you watch Ari inspect your most prized possession, a stuffie your mom gave you as a teenager after you got your first period. You'd hated it back then, letting her know in very clear terms that, getting your period meant you were no longer a child and stuffies were for children, but as you grew older, you also grew more fond of him. He was soft, and cuddly, and he would often be your favorite comfort when you were feeling down.

"Uh, his name is Pingu," you explain, making Ari quirk a brow as he looks back at you. You chuckle, "I wasn't very creative, but it fits him well."

"Sure does," Ari hums, letting his thumb brush over the soft fur again before he places the stuffie back in its designated spot, "It's cute. Looks like you took good care of him."

"Yeah, I guess," you mumble, scratching the back of your neck nervously as you look down at your feet.

Ari turns to you, his smile turning warm as he watches your nervous form. He walks closer until he can reach you, his hand landing on your arm to gently stroke it, "You okay?"

"Mhm," you nod, glancing up at him, "Yeah, it's just.. Your place is so nice and mine is so.. Cluttered."

Ari chuckles softly, tilting his head, "I quite like your place. It's very homey, and it's very you."

"Yeah?" You ask, taking a small step closer until he's only inches from you, your neck craning to look up at him, "You really mean that?"

"Absolutely," he whispers, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you into his chest before his lips land on yours.

He cups your jaw, his thumb sliding under your chin to tilt your head up as he whispers against your lips, "You're so beautiful, you know that?"

Your eyes flutter open to look at him, lips brushing over his when you reply, "And that's coming from you."

Ari lets out a quiet chuckle, the arm around your waist tightening its hold, "Doesn't even compare."

You're about to make a sassy retort when he pulls you close again, his lips gliding over yours carefully. The hand on your jaw slides back to curl in your hair, your hands sliding up his chest to wind around his neck at the kiss deepens.

Ari's large hands travel down your body before they land on your ass, getting a firm grip. His tongue slides into your mouth when you gasp into the kiss, strong hands hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

You mewl, your fingers sliding into his hair as he walks the few steps over to your bed, your legs staying firmly wrapped around him.

He lowers you down, carefully, hovering over you when your back hits the mattress. He keeps kissing you, turning more insistent with each passing second, his strong hands wandering down your chest, nimble fingers teasing the neckline of your dress.

"Mmh," Ari hums, kissing down your jaw and neck, his beard scratching your skin, "I'll never get sick of how soft your skin is baby, you always feel so good. Smell amazing too."

He nuzzles his face in your cleavage, teeth pulling at the neckline and it makes you giggle, your fingers running through his hair, "Must be my lotion."

"Maybe," he murmurs, kissing the peaks of your breasts, "Smells so good, I just want to eat you."

"Oh yeah?" You smirk, his large hands finding the hem of your dress to push it up over your hips, "Feel free to eat me anytime."

Ari chuckles against your skin, pulling back just enough to pull the dress over your head. He discards it on the floor, his gaze heating you up when he takes in your lingerie-clad form.

"Fucking hell," he whispers, warm fingers immediately there, touching your exposed skin and gently teasing the covered parts, "I like this. New?"

"Mhm," you nod, watching how his pupils dilate as he drinks you in, "Had a feeling you'd like it."

"I love it," he husks out, gentle hands gripping your hips as he looks up at your face, "So fucking beautiful. Like an angel."

You chuckle and reach out for him, which makes him lean over you, supporting himself on his forearms. Your ankles hook around his waist, pulling him closer until you feel the bulge in his pants pressing on your core, "Need you to fuck me, daddy. Please. I've missed you all week, need your cock."

Ari's breath hitches at your words, a deep groan rumbling in his chest, "My dirty girl. Dressed so innocently but so filthy once we're alone, isn't that right?"

You nod and smirk, your fingers pulling on his hair teasingly, "Only for you, daddy. No one else."

"That's right, you're daddy's good girl, his pretty baby. No one else gets to see you like this."

"No," you whisper, pulling him closer until his lips land on yours.

He grunts into the kiss, a large hand sliding down your chest, cupping and squeezing your breast through your lace bra. You moan into the kiss, your back arching off the bed at the intoxicating feeling.

Ari's hips ground into yours, grinding against you deliciously, and it makes you even needier than before.

"Daddy," you gasp, your tone pitiful.

Ari's teeth tug on your bottom lip before he pulls back to crawl down the length of your body, "I know baby, but daddy's gotta do something first, okay? Need a taste, just a little one. It's been too long."

Long fingers curl in the waistband of your lace panties, maneuvering you around until he can slide them down your legs. He discards them just like your dress, large hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wide as he slots himself between them again.

Then he bends down, his beard scratching you when he mouths at your lace covered nipple, moaning against your skin. His fingers edge closer to your core while his teeth find your hardened peak, tugging on it through the flimsy fabric.

You whine, bucking your hips up eagerly, a gasp escaping when Ari suddenly pulls your bra down before his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue flicks and toys with it before his teeth find their way, making you cry out at the mix of pain and pleasure.

Strong fingers finally find your wet center, two of them putting pressure on that sweet spot that makes you cry and beg for him pathetically. His fingers rub your needy pussy languidly, deep groans emitting from his throat as his lips continue their assault on your nipple.

Your back arches and your fingers in his hair tighten when he suddenly slides two thick digits inside your soaked heat, curling them up to hit that spot he knows will make your mind go blank.

He's right, you can feel everything slipping away as he starts pumping his fingers inside you, teeth giving your nipple a tug before his lips release it with a pop!

He kisses his way down your stomach, fingers still moving in and out of you until you finally feel his hot breath tickle your bundle of nerves.

He doesn't give you any reprieve when he dives his face into your weeping pussy, tongue expertly finding your clit while his fingers pick up pace inside you.

He groans when your taste hits his tongue, only making him more feral as he eats you out like his life depended on it. You cry out, your thighs threatening to shut, but Ari's free hand grips one to keep them pried apart.

He loves how needy and desperate you get, how you lose all thoughts about the world surrounding you. He can feel the pleasure as it overtakes you, turns you into his perfect girl whose only focus is to chase that sweet high she longs for.

Ari's fingers pick up pace, his tongue flicking your clit as you pant and squeal, your body squirming under him. When he adds a third finger to your tight channel he feels the resistance at first, but it's quickly replaced by the loud moans you let out. He can tell you're close and he wants to push you over that edge so badly, he wants you to lose yourself to him in every sense.

"Daddy," you cry, your fingers pulling on his roots, "Daddy, 'm close, 'm gonna-gonna cum!"

Ari groans against your pussy, growling out a lowly, "Come for daddy, sweet girl. Give me your cream."

And that's all it takes.

You stiffen under him, body going rigid as the orgasm flows through you before you tremble as your juices squirt out around his fingers. Ari lets out a feral growl, eagerly lapping at your folds to get everything he can, his cock so hard against his zipper that its bordering on painful.

He coaxes you through it until you're whimpering pathetically under him, your fingers going pliant in his hair, and that's when he finally pulls away to look down at you.

You're panting as you lie on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are hooded when you look up at him, plump lips parted beautifully.

"You okay?" Ari asks quietly, fingers gently stroking your stomach.

"Yeah," you breathe out, blinking sleepily, "Just give me a second. That was a lot."

Ari chuckles deeply, wiping a hand over his thick beard before he leans down to place a few kisses on your stomach. He gets up, unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants, watching as you remove your lacy bra.

"I'm sorry I took it off so fast," he muses, crawling back into bed with you once he's naked, his hard cock standing at attention, "I really did like it, I promise."

You chuckle and reach out for him, urging him to lie down between your legs. He complies, kissing his way up your chest to your lips, slotting his beefy body between your thighs. His erection pokes at your inner thigh as he lies down, placing a quick kiss on your lips before he tucks his face into your neck.

"You're addicting, you know that?" He murmurs, soft lips brushing over your skin as his beard tickles it, "I can't get enough."

"Good," you smile, your fingers gently stroking his back, "Don't want you to ever get enough."

"I won't," Ari replies earnestly, pulling back to look down at you, "I swear."

Your stomach flutters at the adoration in his eyes, and you want to say so many things but choose instead to guide him closer until his lips find yours.

He kisses you gently, with tender care, your hand moving down his body until you find the hard length pressing against you. You spread your thighs wide, angling your hips up a little as you whisper into the kiss, "Give me your cock, daddy. Please. I can't wait any longer."

Ari hums, his lips moving over yours as he reaches down, wrapping his fist around the base of his cock. You gasp into his mouth when the thick head of his cock prods at your entrance, slowly slipping inside to make you stretch around him.

"This fucking pussy," Ari murmurs into the kiss as he pushes further, "God, I've never felt anything this good, jesus christ."

You let out a whine when he bottoms out, his wide girth making your walls stretch and clench around him, the pressure inside a delicious mix between pain and pleasure.

"You're so big," you hiccup, linking your ankles behind his back, "So big daddy, fucking huge."

Ari grunts at your words, grinding his hips into yours and making you whine. He kisses down your jaw, nipping on it when he slowly pulls out only to push back in.

You keen, your hands landing flat on his back at the feeling, opening yourself up like a flower to him when he starts to gently fuck you.

You let go as the pleasure floats over you, envelops you, your mind going blank, the only thing you're able to focus on being his thick cock dragging against your walls.

"God, so good," Ari moans, hips meeting yours with more determination, "You're so good, so fucking good, honey. My good, sweet girl."

Your pussy flutters at the praise, making Ari grunt in appreciation, and in turn, he picks up the pace a little more, his face tucking into your neck.

You feel his hot breath on your skin as he pants, his beard scratching and tickling your skin in a way that makes you needy for more.

"You take me so well, baby, take my cock so well. Look at how good you're doing, taking all of me with no complaining, that's my good girl."

You want to be his, in every sense of the word, you want him to mark you all over.

Which is why you cry out loudly and your pussy squeezes his cock when his teeth suddenly nip at your neck before he starts sucking, leaving his intentions clear. He sucks harshly, clearly leaving a hickey, while his hips start slamming into yours with more fervor.

"God yes," he growls, sucking another mark on your skin, "Fuck yes, that's it, you feel so good honey. I can't hold it for long, this pussy is just too good, too fucking tight. You want it, hm? Want my cum, baby? Want daddy to fill you up?"

"Yes!" You moan, your nails digging into his back when he starts fucking you harder, his hips stuttering when you tighten around his girth, "Yes, yes, yes!"

Ari growls deeply against your neck, rutting into you, "I will, I fucking will, I promise sweetheart. Just need you to come for daddy one more time, can you do that? Come for me, baby, come on, choke my cock with this sweet little cunt."

You wail when the waves of pleasure suddenly crash into you, the orgasm flooding your senses suddenly. Ari groans when you squeeze him like a vice, his hips stuttering as he grunts out, "There it is, fucking hell. Gonna fill you up, give you my cum. Take my cum, that's it, take it, fuck."

His spend spurts against your walls suddenly as Ari lets out a deep and guttural moan, his heavy body slumping on top of yours as his hips pushes into yours.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, murmuring quietly, "Just gonna stay here for a moment baby, not ready to pull out yet."

You nod slowly, catching your breath as your arms encase him, stroking his skin softly, "Okay daddy."

Ari cleaned you up before you went to sleep, making you giggle as he grumbled about having to put on underwear to go to the bathroom because "this place is practically a fucking frathouse, filled with people."

He enveloped you in his arms once he crawled back into bed next to you, pulling you into his chest. He held you close all night, his warm body pressed up against yours, and your sleep was peaceful and deep as you melted into him.

When the morning light filters into your bedroom to pull you from your slumber, you nuzzle your face into his chest. Your nose tickles when it brushes over the dark hair coating it, but it's comforting in a sense, making you press against his full pecks, into the relaxed muscle.

The heavy arm holding you close tightens its grip momentarily before his fingers slowly stroke your back. Ari inhales deeply, murmuring, "Morning baby."

"Good morning," you whisper, keeping your eyes closed as you stay close, placing a kiss on his chest.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Good," you smile, tilting your head up to look at his face. His eyes open at the movement, a fond smile painting his lips when his eyes meet yours. "How about you?"

"Very good," he responds, kissing your forehead, "Your bed is approved."

You chuckle, moving to place kisses on his collarbones, "Good, I'm glad. In that case, we can alternate between places."

Ari hums, his fingers carding through your hair, "It's a deal, honey."

You hold each other close, slowly waking up in each others arms. You lean up to kiss his cheek, and then his lips, and he hums as he kisses you back.

You lean back, placing your head on the pillow to look at him, keeping your leg wrapped over his hip as you ask, "Any plans today?"

"Yeah," Ari responds with a smile, which makes your stomach drop with disappointment. But then you chuckle when he adds, "I'm spending the day with my girl. Hopefully I won't have to leave this bed."

You giggle, quirking a brow at him, "You sure you're up for it, old man? I remember last weekend, you were hanging on by a thread at the end."

Ari scoffs, narrowing his eyes teasingly, "We fucked all day long, I'm only human. And you said yourself you felt sore at the end."

You laugh and lean in to peck his lips, "I'm sorry, I'm just kidding. I was sore, you're not easy to take, you know. But practice makes perfect, I guess."

Ari hums, a warm hand sliding over the curve of your hip, "How're you feeling this morning?"

"Good," you smile, "Not sore. Yet."

Ari chuckles, "I'm sure we'll change that soon."

After cuddling for a while, Ari slips out of bed to go to the bathroom and you take a moment to stretch, raising your arms and squirming around like a cat on the bed, before you find an oversized shirt and a pair of sleep-shorts to pull on.

You walk out to the kitchen, cocking a brow at Hayden when you spot him sitting at the dining table, eating a bowl of cereal.

"Hey bud," You chuckle, reaching into the cupboard to bring out two mugs, "Fancy seeing you here."

"You too," Hayden murmurs as he chews his breakfast. "I just saw Mr. Levinson in his fucking underwear. It'll most likely haunt me for years to come. That's your fault, missy."

You snort, pouring coffee into the two mugs in front of you, "Hope you enjoyed the view. He's good, huh?"

Hayden glares at you as you quirk a teasing brow, chuckling, "No one forced you to stay at my apartment, you know. Tell me again why you're here this early in the morning?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hayden snickers, eating another spoonful. He chews and swallows before he looks at you with a raised brow, "You owe me fifty bucks, by the way."

You scoff and shake your head, adding milk to your cup, "I do not."

"Yes, you do," Hayden replies pointedly, "Our bet is still valid, even if I didn't know we were talking about you when we made it."

You place a hand on your hip as you look at him, "That bet was about whether or not he was in love, if I recall. Not whether or not he was dating."

"I know what it was about," Hayden replies casually, in-between chewing his cereal, "And you owe me fifty fucking bucks."

You scoff and chuckle, taking a sip of your coffee, "You're delusional."

"I think you're the only delusional one here, if you truly believe I haven't earned that money fair and square," Hayden retorts, finishing his bowl of cereal, "I'm no idiot, I know what I know."

"Oh yeah?" You sass, putting your cup of coffee down on the counter, "And whats that?"

"What I know is that, that man who just scarred me for life by walking by in his underwear, is a man in loooove," he chimes, singing the last word dramatically.

You laugh and shake your head, turning back to your coffee, "Why don't you go cuddle Andrea if you're so obsessed with loooove, hm? Fairly certain only one man in this apartment is pussy whipped, and he's sitting right in front of me."

"Yeah right," Hayden snorts, "Like you couldn't bring him to his knees with a snap of your fingers."

You chuckle and shake your head again, but choose to remain silent as you take a sip of coffee, which only makes him bark out a laugh.

"See? I'll be expecting that fifty bucks by Monday morning, thank you very much."

"Hayden, you can go fuck yourse-"

"Morning sweetheart."

You're interrupted when Ari walks into the kitchen, still in only his boxer briefs, and he immediately stiffens when he spots Hayden sitting by the dining table. You can tell he's just about to turn around and walk away, presumably to hide in your bedroom, but you'll be damned if you let Andrea's boytoy scare away your man.

"Morning," You say with a wide smile, picking up the cup of coffee you made and directing it towards him, "Made you a cup."

Ari is visibly conflicted, glancing between you and Hayden, standing still in the doorway until Hayden says, "It's fine, Mr. Levinson. We're all delusional here, let's just pretend this is normal and get on with our day."

Ari chuckles shortly before he takes the cup you've offered him, placing a quick kiss on your cheek in return, "How about we stick to Ari when we're not in class? Makes it feel just a little bit less weird."

"Works for me," Hayden responds as Ari walks over to sit by the dining table, "This is weird enough already."

"You're telling me," Ari mumbles quietly as he takes a sip of his coffee.

You smile at him before you turn to Hayden, "Technically, you're the odd man out. I cleared it with all the residents in this apartment that Ari would be sleeping over. But you never did answer my question; why are you here again?"

Ari chuckles under his breath, taking another sip of coffee while Hayden turns to you.

"I'm here because your roommate is absolutely insatiable and I'm not cruel enough to let her suffer."

You gag loudly, in a joking manner as you put your hands up, "Okay, enough, ew. Don't need the details."

"You sure?" Hayden jokes as he gets up from his seat to clean his bowl, "Because I have sooo many, I could tell you about how I-"

"Enough," you grumble, picking up your cup of coffee to take a seat next to Ari at the table, "You being here is plenty of information. Go back to her room so I can pretend you're not here right now. Please."

"Why?" Hayden muses, wiggling his brows at you and Ari, "You two going to get it on? Again?"

You sputter into the sip you're taking, and Ari chokes on his sip as well.

"Hayden, go touch some grass," you reply incredulously, "You fucking need it, you little snoop."

"That's a yes," Hayden laughs before he starts walking out of the kitchen. As he crosses the threshold he yells, "Have fun!" Before he disappears.

After a beat, Ari muses, "Tell me again why he's even here right now?"

"He's fucking Andrea," you grumble into your cup of coffee, "Much to everyones dismay."

"Right," Ari murmurs, taking a sip of his coffee, "Presumably not to Andrea's, though."

You scrunch your face up as you turn to him, "Please don't say that. It makes it worse."

Ari chuckles at your expression, "What, you don't want your roommates to have as much fun as you're having?"

A smirk grows on your lips before you tilt your head, "Believe me, there's no way in hell Andrea is having as much fun as I am."

"Oh really?" Ari replies, mirroring your smirk, "You want to elaborate on that?"

"Sure do," You chirp out happily, "You want the power point presentation or the practical one?"

Ari quirks a brow, watching you for a moment before he replies, "As much as I would love to see how you'd put what we do into a power point, I think I'd enjoy the practical one more."

"Oh I know you would," you smirk, immediately rising from your seat. You take his hand, pulling him with you as you get up, "Come on, Mr. Levinson. Let me show you what I've learned so far."

Ari chuckles and follows behind you when you drag him down the hallway, "Where are we going? Your bedroom is the other direction."

You shake your head, "We did it in bed already, on to the next room."

Ari barks out a laugh, that carries through the apartment until you tug him into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. You lock it before you push him up against it, your fingers immediately tangling in his hair when your lips land on his.

Ari doesn't miss a beat, his lips moving over yours possessively, his large hands gripping your waist as he hums, "Mmh, in the bathroom, hm?"

You nod as you keep kissing him, letting your hands travel down his chest, brushing over the dusting of hair covering it, "Yeah, thought that might be fun. What'dya say, daddy? Wanna fuck me in the shower?"

Ari lets out a low growl, his eyes darkening when he pulls back to look at you, "Abso-fucking-lutely I do."

You squeak when one of his hands suddenly lands on your ass in a smack, and then your head spins when he starts moving around, swiftly turning on the hot water before his hands curl in your shirt. You lift your arms in the air to let him pull it off you, his eyes locked on your breasts when they're exposed to him.

One warm hand cups your breast instantly, squeezing and groping the flesh, while the other curls behind your neck to pull you in for a searing kiss.

You mewl, hands traveling down his stomach until you reach the edge of his briefs, quickly wrapping your fingers in it to pull them down.

Ari lets you, and once they're on the floor, he mirrors your actions, pushing your panties down until you're fully naked for him.

"Come on baby," he husks out, both hands grabbing your ass, "Hop on."

You giggle as you jump up and he maneuvers you to wrap your legs around his waist, your hands on his shoulders when you lean in to kiss him again. He moans into the kiss, the tip of his cock poking you teasingly as he walks the both of you into the shower, a gasp escaping your lips when the hot water hits your back.

"You're insatiable," Ari murmurs, pushing your back up against the wall as he angles his hips, "I don't know how I'm going to be able to keep up in the long run."

You moan out a small chuckle when he rubs his cock between your wet folds, not wasting any time before he slowly pushes in.

"Having trouble, old man?" You breathe out, your fingers digging into his shoulders the deeper he pushes inside you, "Need a break, hm? Maybe a nap?"

Ari growls lowly, the sound coming from his throat, "Little fucking brat, you better behave."

"You like taming me," you moan as he bottoms out, and he mirrors the sound, his head falling back for a moment.

"You're so fucking tight," he whispers, tilting his head forward again to look at you, "Gripping me like a damn vice."

The familiar blue of his eyes is darker, almost completely swallowed out by his pupils, and it makes you want to drown in the depth of them.

When Ari pulls back a little and pushes back in, his thrusts slow but shallow, you choke on a moan, "It's 'cus I was made for you, daddy."

"That's right," he says, his deep voice lulling your mind into a space of pure desire, "You were made for me, made for taking my cock like my good little slut."

You moan at his words, your head dropping back to rest against the wall, your eyes closing when he starts fucking you in earnest, his thrusts going deeper.

"Isn't that right?" He grunts, his fingers digging into your ass as he fucks you up against the shower wall, "You're my little slut, aren't you? My dumb baby, such a pretty girl when your head goes empty like this, all you can think about is how badly you want to get fucked."

You whimper, a halfhearted nod as your body jolts in his hold, the cool tile soothing on your burning skin, excitement bursting through your veins every time his cock kisses your cervix.

But then your eyes shoot open in surprise when Ari suddenly wraps a large paw of a hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your pussy tighten around him.

"Fuck, you like that, huh?" He moans, picking up pace, his cock filling you again and again as he fucks into you, "Like getting choked, hm? I wasn't sure if you would, but good to know."

His fingers squeeze carefully, your wide eyes holding his as you let out an airy moan, your pussy tightening around him again.

"God damn it," he growls lowly, the hold he has on you forcing you to meet his hard thrusts, "You'll be the fucking death of me, I'd die for this pussy, jesus."

Your hands slide up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as your moans get louder. He picks up pace again, now fucking you mercilessly up against the wall, your toes curling as your legs are wrapped around his waist.

"G-gonna cum, gonna cum daddy!" You stammer out, a wanton moan filling the bathroom when his thrusts suddenly get harder, more determined.

You hold his gaze, his dangerous blues burning into you as he fucks you with abandon, his brow a little furrowed as he tries to hold off his own release.

"Yes, come for me," he grunts, his fingers tightening around your throat, "Come for me, squeeze the shit out of my cock. You're not breathing until you come for daddy."

His words are stern, and it triggers something in you, your high pitched wail echoing on the bathroom tiles as you come undone in his hold. He lets out a deep, satisfactory moan as he watches you come, shaking and hiccuping when he releases your throat to place his hand on the tile behind you as he chases his own high.

He grunts, hips stuttering repeatedly before he shouts and buries his face in your neck, releasing into you. His warmth fills you as he pants against your skin, your hands stroking his broad back as you try to catch your own breath in turn.

You gently run your fingers through his hair, your bodies sticking together, the bathroom feeling hot and damp from the running water.

"You're going to kill me," Ari whispers breathlessly, "I might actually die."

It makes you giggle, and you smile fondly when he pulls back to look at you, his cheeks and neck flushed red from the heat. You cup his face, stroking his cheeks as you whisper, "How about some cuddles after we shower, hm? I promise not to wear you out. I'd like to keep you around."

"Sounds good," he smiles, placing a kiss on your nose before he carefully pulls out of you.

You and Ari showered together and took turns washing each others hair. He kneeled in front of you to give you better access considering your height difference, and you thought it was the cutest thing in the world whenever he'd look up at you as you lathered the shampoo.

You made sure he used your conditioner; you were not willing to go down on hair care for those gorgeous locks of his. Ari complied happily, despite his own hair care routine being a little different at home, but you're fairly certain he just said yes because it meant you'd keep running your fingers through his hair.

You dried off, and went back to your bedroom, where you cuddled up in bed, choosing to toss your towels. Which brings you to here.

Ari is lying between your legs as you have a movie playing on the TV, his head resting on your chest. Your fingers are running through his hair and scratching at his scalp, and he's purring lowly whenever your nails apply a little extra pressure.

His body is warm on top of yours, and the skin-to-skin contact is amazing. It feels nice, being naked and vulnerable with him, despite it not being sexual. It feels intimate.

"I like being with you like this," you murmur as you watch the screen, moved around so Ari can see it too, despite his current resting position.

"Me too," he replies quietly, placing a kiss on your chest, his cheek nuzzling into it a little as he smiles, "You feel nice."

You chuckle softly, scratching at his scalp, earning you another purr, "So do you."

"Not too heavy?"

"No," you smile, "Not at all. It feels good, actually. Having your weight on me, I like it. It's comforting."

"Yeah?" Ari asks, glancing up at you, "You like the feeling of me on top of you?"

You smile shyly, "Yes, I do. That's why I like missionary, too. I like how big and heavy you are, it always turns me on."

"Hm, interesting," Ari replies, looking back towards the TV. "Wonder why that is."

"I'm not sure I want to know," you snort, "Sounds like a rabbithole."

Ari chuckles at your words, "I think you have a point. Might be better not to go down it."

Once Sunday morning rolls around, Ari is still at your place. You get up after cuddling for a bit, both heading to the kitchen for breakfast.

You're just about to start bringing out pans to cook on when Ari stops you.

"Let me," he says, taking the pan out of your hand before he places it on the stove, "You go sit over there, I'll cook."

He gestures to the dining table, and you frown as you look up at him, "You don't have to do that, you're my guest, I should-"

"Shush," he chuckles, taking a sip of the cup of coffee you made him, "I want to make you breakfast. Let me."

You look at him for a moment before you relent, bringing your own coffee over to the dining table as you sit down. "Fine," you chuckle, shaking your head as you take a sip, "If you want to cook so bad, by all means, be my guest."

Ari snickers, cracking open an egg on the pan, "Thanks. I'll make enough for your other halves, as well."

You snort into your coffee, putting it down to look at him pointedly, "You make it sound like we're dating, or something. They're not my girlfriends."

"Oh?" Ari muses, quirking a brow as he cracks another egg, "They're not? What are they, then?"

Your brows furrow momentarily before you backtrack, "Okay, technically, they're my girlfriends, but not like.. Girlfriends-girlfriends, you know?"

Ari snorts at your clumsy wording, nodding as he chuckles, "Uhm, yeah. I think so."

"I don't have a girlfriend-girlfriend," you quip, watching him as you take a sip of coffee, "I don't swing that way."

"That, I do believe," Ari retorts, smirking at you, "You're way too into my cock for that."

You cough and sputter into your coffee, looking at him with wide eyes, "Ari!"

He laughs at your shocked expression, while you wipe the table with a cloth to clean up your spill.

"Relax," he says through laughs, "I'm only kidding."

"Are you?!" You exclaim between laughing huffs, "Who even are you, I don't know this brazen man!"

Ari's laugh gets louder, smiling from ear to ear as he continues cooking, "You know I'm not shy, why are you surprised?"

"Uh, because we're in the kitchen?" You sass, sipping your coffee.

"You know that's never stopped me before," he retorts, cocking a brow and almost making you stutter again.

You quickly recover, putting down the coffee, "Stop that, Mr. Levinson. Someone might hear."

Ari shrugs, "Eh. They've been in the apartment the past two days, they already know."

You scoff and shake your head, chuckling before you reply, "You're the worst."

"Thanks baby."

You smile at him, rolling your eyes before you change the subject, "Hey, so, how long will you be staying? When do you need to go back home?"

"I need to go back when it fits," Ari replies, "I won't be gone long, just gotta grab some of my stuff."

Your brows raise in surprise, "Oh, you're uh.. You're coming back after?"

Ari turns to you, his brows furrowed, "Well, yeah, I thought I would. Why? Do you not want me to?"

"Sure, I'd love to spend the day with you," you smile, before you add, "It's just, I kinda have to study.. So I need to.. Focus, you know?"

Ari nods and hums, pouring the food onto a plate, "Okay, I get that. I have some work to do as well. We can be around each other while still working though, right? And then we'd have the evening together."

Ari brings the plate and two forks over, putting it down in front of you on the table before he takes a seat next to you.

You pick up your fork and take a bite, while Ari does the same.

"Yeah, that sounds nice," you reply, humming at the taste, "Like being together while doing other stuff."

"Exactly," Ari chuckles, his head dipping to place a kiss on your shoulder, "And this way, I still get to sneak a kiss or two from you in between. Much more fun than being at home."

You chuckle as well, leaning before you place a kiss on his lips, "Me too. Sounds perfect."

Ari went back to his place to get some things but he was gone for less than hour. You're sitting by the dining table, typing on your computer with the course book in front of you, taking notes, when Andrea lets him into your apartment.

"Back so soon?" She muses as he walks inside, "That didn't last long."

Ari smiles at her, shrugging his shoulders, "Had to get some stuff for tomorrow. Why, am I annoying to have around?"

Andrea chuckles and shakes her head, "No, not at all. You cook a nice meal, so I'm excited for later."

Ari quirks a brow at her, "Is that a hint that you want me to make you dinner to make up for being around all the time?"

"Yep," Andrea replies immediately, "It sure is. Buddy."

Ari nods slowly, "Okay, I can work with that." He glances around the hallway momentarily, "Is your boytoy still here?"

"No, he had to go do some football stuff," Andrea replies with a dismissive wave of her hand, "I don't really get into that, I can't remember what he said."

"Okay, well, let me just work for a little while and I promise to make you dinner, as repayment for allowing me to invade your space."

Andrea grins widely, "Great! I'll let Jessica know."

She walks off, and Ari heads toward your room, poking his head into the kitchen when he spots you at the dining table, "I'm back. I'll just drop my bag in your room and then I'll come work next to you."

You glance at him, your fingers stilling their typing for just a moment, "Okay, but no distracting me. I can't behind on my studying."

Ari snorts and nods, "Aye aye, Captain."

You and Ari worked opposite each other at the dining table, him grading papers and preparing next weeks lectures while you studied. It was nice, sitting in comfortable silence while you worked individually, and it was also nice to be able to look up from your computer once in a while to see his handsome face.

In the evening, he made dinner for you, Andrea and Jessica, and they were both beyond grateful, eagerly engaging him in conversation. It made you smile fondly to watch them talking while you took a backseat, it made your stomach flutter in excitement at how well they were getting along.

Jessica almost talked his ear off when she started telling Ari about this guy she met, the one on the football team, but Ari was so considerate and sweet, listening intently and offering up advice on how to handle boys.

All in all, the weekend was perfect, and it felt like it meant something. You weren't labeling anything, but something about how he acted around you and your friends, the things you did together, you had a feeling it wouldn't be long until you did.

Either way, you loved being around him, absorbing his aura, enveloping yourself in him. He was all-consuming, but in the good way, the kind of man you're willing to drown in but who'd never let you because he'd always make sure you never sacrificed anything important for him.

And it felt good. Amazing, actually. It made you wonder about the future, and what was going to happen once the semester ends.

[seiyasabi]

Fixation

(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao 

TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc.. 

Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) ) 

Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt. 

Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for. 

Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare. 

Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed. 

Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?” 

The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.” 

Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”

Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone. 

“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.” 

Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her. 

“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences. 

“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that. 

Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!” 

Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before. 

With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh. 

-

Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage. 

Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home. 

With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces. 

“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before. 

“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor. 

Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this. 

You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso. 

“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably. 

Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!” 

Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat. 

“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.” 

Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well. 

“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”

The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.” 

You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!” 

A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid. 

“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form. 

“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone. 

“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words. 

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face. 

“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”

Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it. 

-

Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight. 

Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling. 

The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well. 

“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him. 

In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?” 

Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”

Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you. 

She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets. 

“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt. 

“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties. 

“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!” 

The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart! 

She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal. 

Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly. 

“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.” 

Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”

“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can. 

“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute. 

“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so. 

After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties. 

“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.” 

You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead. 

Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you. 

“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour. 

Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you? 

Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?” 

You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before. 

“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny. 

“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you. 

Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on. 

“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing. 

Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls. 

“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.  

“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more. 

More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest. 

“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth. 

It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you. 

Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously. 

Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it. 

A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven. 

Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you. 

“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?” 

Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin. 

“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading. 

“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh. 

“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.” 

You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive. 

Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table. 

Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation. 

Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you. 

Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket. 

“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?” 

An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera. 

Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you? 

[ejzah]

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 12

***

The next day went surprisingly smoothly; there were a minimum of tears and, miraculously, no one went home sick. With the year winding down, each class was preparing for a special concert. Every afternoon, the grades went down in sections to practice their specified song.

It was absolute chaos, but Kensi adored every moment of it. Her students had grown so much over the year each in their own individual ways. The most obvious change had occurred with Caleb Deeks. It amazed her how much he’d opened up in just a few months, going from shy and clinging to his dad to gregarious and curious about everything.

As much as Kensi tried not to play favorites, she couldn’t deny that he’d carved out a special place in her heart. Just yesterday, they’d built a lego village together with him while Deeks made dinner. In between creating a dinosaur music store-a music store run by dinosaurs for the other animals-Caleb shared loosely connected stories about his dad, his old school, and a friend he’d made since moving. Playing and talking with him reminded her of what had inspired her to pursue teaching originally.

He’d only mentioned his mom a few times in passing, proudly showing her the stuffed toy she’d brought him during a visit. He’d informed her that “Talking about mommy makes dad sad. Sometimes it makes sad too,” while petting the teddy bear sized ladybug with an introspective look. He seemed confused by the whole situation, yet understand that it wasn’t a topic Deeks preferred.

Despite her deep curiosity, Kensi didn’t pursue the topic. Deeks had told her as much as he wanted to, getting more out of his five year old would be highly inappropriate. Still, she’d found herself considering taking a page out of Nell’s book and looking Deeks up on Facebook a few times. She held herself back though; she had a feeling that once Deeks’ trust was broken, it would be almost impossible to win it back.

Back at home, she started a load of way overdue laundry, briefly considered tackling the mound of dishes in the sink, and decided on tossing a frozen pot pie in the oven while she finished some grading. Her mom would argue that anything frozen wasn’t real food, but Kensi considered it an improvement over pop tarts or ramen which made up an embarrassingly large number of her dinners.

Kensi made it through a quarter of her work when her phone buzzed with an incoming call, Deeks’ name appearing on the screen. She accepted the call, smiling at the welcome distraction.

“Hey, I didn’t think I’d hear from you tonight,” she said, sinking further into her seat as she tapped her pen against the her knee.

“Yeah, my meeting ended early, thanks to my stunning negotiations skills,” Deeks answered smugly.

“And the award for most humble lawyer goes to…”

“I’m just being honest,” he insisted, laughter in his voice. “How was your day?”

“Good. We actually accomplished a lot, which is always an amazing feat when you’re talking about Kindergartners,” Kensi said. “Only one glue incident all day.”

“That is truly amazing. It’s hard enough wrangling one tiny person, I can’t imagine handling a entire classroom of gremlins,” Deeks agreed. “Endearing gremlins, but gremlins nonetheless.”

Kensi snorted at his amendment, picturing him sitting in his office or at the kitchen table, in a similar position to her own. He probably had shucked off his suit jacket by now, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She shivered a little at the thought and quickly straightened before her imagination got any more out of hand.

I also got a little video of Caleb practicing for the end of year performance if you want me to send it to you.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess he’s being a complete ham. He can be so shy sometimes, but get him in front of a camera and he’s a seasoned actor,” Deeks said wryly.

“He gave a truly impressive performance. Oscar worthy I would say.”

“Sound about right.” There was a few seconds of dead air and then he cleared his throat, and Kensi almost felt the shift in demeanor. “So, uh, I actually called for another reason,” he continued. “I have this company dinner and I wondered if you wanted to join me.”

“Oh,” Kensi exclaimed in surprise. She definitely hadn’t expected that. “What kind of dinner party?”

“Formal, edging towards gala kind. Black tie. It’s to celebrate our clients and all that, so I’m kind of required to attend.”

That was a lot more than a simple dinner, and Kensi felt a touch of unease. If it was just a few of his coworkers, she would be less hesitant, but his whole office…she cleared her throat, asking another question to hide her uncertainty.

“When is it?”

“Saturday. This Saturday,” Deeks answered quickly.

“Gee, thanks for the advanced notice,” Kensi drawled.

“I know, it’s super close,” Deeks apologized, and she could almost hear him wince. “I thought I could get out of it, but one of my, ah, shall we say colleagues, is threatening to set me up with a friend of hers if I don’t list a plus one by the end of tomorrow.”

“So I’m the least objectionable option. I see.” She let her voice drop to a scathing tone.

“That is so not what I meant,” he insisted. He sighed heavily, and Kensi could picture him tipping his head back. “Yes, this is very last minute, but I would love nothing more than to take you to the gala.” He was definitely laying on the charm now, but she could tell he was also sincere. She flushed a little at the fondness in in his voice.

“Mm, and what do I get in return?” Kensi asked, playfully.

“Free drinks, overpriced hors d’oeuvres, and my delightful presence,” Deeks replied quickly. “Oh, and the opportunity to meet a few celebrities.” He paused a second and added, “I get it if you can’t. It’s a lot to ask last minute.”

“No, I think I can pull something together.” Mentally, she was indexing her wardrobe, considering anything that would be suitable for a formal event.

“Is that a yes? Because as a lawyer I know how important explicit content is. I can even draw up a contract or a—”

“Yes, Deeks,” Kensi interrupted loudly, laughing despite herself. “I will be your date for the gala.” Deeks released a small breath she wasn’t sure she was meant to hear.

“Alright then,” he said more seriously. “I’ll pick you up around 6 on Saturday?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Thank you, Kensi.”

They hung up a minute later, and Kensi tossed her phone on the table, lightly smacking her forehead. She stood, pacing the length of her living room.

“Oh my god. What were you thinking, Kensi?” she demanded of herself, quickly descending into a state of slight panic as she realized what she’d just agreed to.

Grabbing her phone again, she dialed Nell’s number, pressing her lips together, still pacing.

“Nell, I need your help. I have to find an evening gown for Saturday.”

***

A/N: After a bit of a break, we’re back. Hope you enjoyed!

Side note, do you think Kensi will remember her pot pie in all the excitement before it burns to a crisp?

[nxrthmizu]

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug 

genre | lila salt, so much salt 

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life. 

w.c | 8.1k 

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass. 

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it. 

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?” 

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess... 

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared. 

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.” 

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child. 

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.” 

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate? 

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain. 

Was it...? 

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps. 

Perhaps it was possible. 

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise. 

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?” 

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?” 

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?” 

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.” 

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily. 

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks. 

No. 

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again. 

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again. 

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead. 

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them. 

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!” 

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines. 

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?” 

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.” 

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for. 

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl. 

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,). 

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything. 

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed. 

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. ��It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one. 

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on. 

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.” 

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one. 

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart. 

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” 

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done. 

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks. 

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation. 

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself. 

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill. 

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers? 

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!” 

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.” 

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter. 

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?” 

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen. 

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face. 

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was. 

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.” 

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.” 

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery. 

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being. 

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had. 

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist. 

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white. 

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...? 

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.” 

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom. 

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?” 

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string. 

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done. 

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.” 

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone. 

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!” 

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her... 

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on. 

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...” 

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?” 

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.” 

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...” 

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?” 

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word. 

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.” 

A collective choir of groans rounded the class. 

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?” 

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely? 

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?” 

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed. 

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?” 

“... No.” 

“...” 

“... Maybe.” 

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.” 

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.” 

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?” 

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.” 

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression. 

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?” 

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?” 

This elicited another round of groans. 

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally. 

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery. 

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam! 

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled. 

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette? 

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right? 

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point. 

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft. 

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other? 

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.” 

Alya was silent. 

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes. 

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?” 

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally. 

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates. 

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job. 

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.” 

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom. 

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?” 

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.” 

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know... 

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.” 

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. 

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.” 

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row. 

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.” 

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him. 

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?” 

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered. 

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.” 

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in. 

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled. 

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea. 

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?” 

The class agreed, nodding along. 

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president. 

This is your problem now. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?” 

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?” 

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly. 

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.” 

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?” 

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile. 

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—” 

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.” 

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’. 

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?” 

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice. 

“Determination was always one of your good traits.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there. 

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.” 

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it. 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations. 

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond. 

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come. 

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet. 

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars. 

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”  

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write... 

[bbangsoonie]

goal: your heart

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 5,423 synopsis: due to a budget cut, you have to follow the soccer team around for both the school newspaper and yearbook despite knowing nothing about sports. before you know it, you find yourself warming up to the team’s star player, who you swore was the most annoying and arrogant person ever.

a/n: this is a part of the star player collab with @atbzkingdom​ for sunwoo’s birthday! (also, this will be written with the american academic calander in mind)

You knew exactly what you were doing. You were the top student of both your class and school and the leader of many clubs. Your college application was full of achievements and your essay exquisitely written. The only problem? You had no idea what to do after graduation. You didn’t know where you wanted to go or what you wanted to study.

Growing up, everyone told you that you’d eventually find something you love. By senior year, you thought you would at least have an idea by now.

But nope, you were even more lost if anything. Dream job? That was just a capitalistic lie meant to make people happy to slave away for money.

Grumbling, you listened as your friends rambled on about the campuses they visited. It was only the first day back and everyone was already obsessing over one thing and one thing only.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky,” Juyeon pouted. “You don’t have to worry about getting into a university. Your stats are literally perfect.”

“I have other things to stress over,” you groaned. “At least you know what you wanna pursue.”

“Y/n has other things to worry about. She’s about to graduate without ever finding love,” Younghoon teased.

“It’s all our fault,” Jaehyun squinted as he pinched his nose bridge. “We raised her standards too high. I’m sorry, Y/n, that I can’t take responsibility.”

The notebook in your hand threatened to fly over to his seat. Luckily for him, he was saved by Juyeon’s very unnatural attempt at changing the subject. He inquired about the school newspaper that was barely spared in a major budget cut last year.

Thinking about it made you sigh. You had poured in so much effort over the years for the paper and it was almost taken from you. The school was cutting funds for a lot of clubs and diverting the money to the many sports teams that brought home trophies.

A part of the negotiations to save the newspaper club was to feature more sports events and student athletes in order to garner support for the teams. You weren’t pleased with the decision. Your plate was already full without trying to inflate the ego of players who had a god superiority complex. Jaehyun was a great example of the type of jock you didn’t want to raise on a high pedestal.

You had also promised Kevin, the president of the yearbook committee, to help out with photographing games since you had to attend them anyway. Despite the many tasks assigned to you, you were relieved that you could spend your last year continuing to write articles.

“Does that mean you’ll get to come to practice with us? The basketball team is always on my ass about introducing them to you. Now I can finally stop being pestered to be the middleman,” Jaehyun grinned.

“No shot,” Younghoon shook his head. “My swim team has already tried but Y/n puts up a cold front.”

“Hey, I’m a delicately guarded rose with sharp thorns,” you joked, making Jaehyun pretend to gag. This time, the notebook hit his arm.

“No one is good enough for our Y/n,” Juyeon defended. You turned around to coo at him and said something about him being the only nice one as Younghoon guffawed.

The first day of soccer practice meant you had to stay behind after dismissal to meet the team. The coach introduced you to the players and beamed when he got to the last one.

“This is our ace, Sunwoo. Although I’m sure you know that already,” he said proudly.

To be honest, you had no idea who he was. The school was too big to know everyone and you had absolutely no interest in sports. You rarely even went to Juyeon and Jaehyun’s basketball games and Younghoon’s swim meets.

Not wanting to offend anyone, you simply smiled. Sunwoo, catching your hesitance, raised a brow. However, he kept quiet until he approached you during one of his breaks.

“Do you really not know me?” he asked as he took a seat next to you on the bleachers.

Surprised by his sudden question, you blankly stared at the boy in front of you. Sweat was dripping from his hair but he paid it no attention as he chugged an entire water bottle.

“How cocky are you?” you scoffed.

“You really don’t know our soccer team’s star player, Kim Sunwoo?” he gaped.

“Sorry to disappoint but I really don’t care or know much about soccer. Or any other sports for that matter,” you shrugged.

“You’re going to write about the soccer team… when you don’t even know who we are or what we’re doing?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s why I’m here to observe,” you snapped back.

Finding you amusing, he finally wiped away his sweat as the coach blew his whistle to gather the players again.

Sunwoo always gave it his best but for some reason he found himself practicing extra hard that day. Knowing your eyes were on him motivated him to show off his skills by annoying his teammates and stealing the spotlight. After his third goal in a row, he looked at you to see your reaction but was baffled to see you busy writing something down.

Frustrated and peeved, he kicked at the grass with a huff.

When practice came to an end, he snuck up behind you to see what you were so intently focused on. Reading the notes on your notebook, he hummed.

“So that’s what you were doing instead of watching me,” he mused.

You were listing physical traits and personality attributes of each player. He scanned the paper for his name and frowned when he saw what you wrote about him.

“Arrogant and conceited? That’s all you have to say about me?” he whined.

“What? It’s true,” you deadpanned.

“Haknyeon gets “tall, bubbly, and extroverted” but I get “arrogant and conceited”? That’s not fair. This is biased journalism!” he exclaimed.

Realizing that practice was over, you gathered your belongings and stood up to leave. With his cheeks puffed, he watched as you left the field. You were unlike any person he had ever encountered.

“Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo?” Younghoon repeated with his eyes wide. “The soccer caption Kim Sunwoo?”

Jaehyun and Juyeon’s chopsticks froze midair in shock. Finding their reactions odd, you nodded as you took another bite of your lunch.

“I can’t believe the lady killer got rejected by the man hater,” Jaehyun broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Now that’s a title I’d like to see on the school newspaper,” Younghoon snickered.

“Okay, first of all, I did not reject him because he did not come on to me,” you rolled your eyes. “Secondly, who the hell is he anyway? Why do you all know him?”

“He’s notorious for his fuckboy image. Although I think that’s an exaggerated reputation,” Juyeon said you picked out all the vegetables from your plate. He willingly moved them to his own and you smiled gratefully in response.

“So my first impression of him was correct,” you said.

“He’s not that bad. He’s actually pretty cool. Rumors don’t do the sweet guy justice,” Juyeon explained.

“Our lovely Juyeon sees the good in everyone,” Younghoon gushed as he pet his friend, earning him a smack on the back of his head.

“We were partners for a history project,” Juyeon clarified. “I got to know him a bit and he’s a good guy. Just enjoys attention a little too much. Like Jaehyun.”

Weirdly offended, Jaehyun scowled. You shrugged it off, returning your attention back to your food. You had no intentions of getting to know Sunwoo anyway. At least, that was the plan until he bombarded you in the hallway while you were walking to class.

He blocked your path with that irritating smirk on his face. Exasperated, you asked him what he wanted.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he started.

“Oh, so you do think?”

“Hey!”

“Do you think you can move and get out of my way?”

“Anyway, as the president of the newspaper club who’s in charge of covering the soccer team, I think you lack way too much information about the sport. And our school’s players.”

“How do you know I’m the president?”

“I asked around.”

You look at his eyes, trying to peer through any ulterior motives. He was being suspiciously generous. But he wasn’t entirely wrong. Even you thought it was ridiculous that a person who didn’t know a thing about soccer had to write articles about it.

You were also aware that any interviews with the athletes would be surface level stuff that all the students probably already knew. You were the only one out of the loop.

You pursed your lips, annoyed that he was right. Realizing that you were in agreeance, Sunwoo grinned.

“I am offering you the very special privilege to follow me around and learn everything there is to know about the team. For the paper of course,” he quickly added the last part after seeing the look on your face. “I can teach you about both soccer and my teammates.”

After pondering his proposal, you finally nodded.

“Deal,” you eyed his happy expression. “What do you want in return?”

He was taken aback by your question. He hadn’t expected you to assume that he would demand compensation. Your presence and attention were what he was after in the first place. However, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by.

“Bubble tea,” he declared after some thought. “You can treat me to bubble tea after practice and I can tutor you then.”

“Fine,” you sighed before pushing him aside to make it to class before the bell rang. He was left behind with a stupid smile on his face.

The first tutoring session was extremely awkward for you. You weren’t used to hanging out with guys other than Juyeon, Younghoon, and Jaehyun. They were the only members of the male species you didn’t despise. This riled up Sunwoo’s competitive side. He was determined to get close to you.

He couldn’t stand having someone not like him. He was used to being on friendly terms with everyone—including teachers and even wallflowers. He had a strong desire to receive acknowledgement from everyone.

Perhaps that was why so many girls fell for him.

Nevertheless, the wall around you remained thick and high. Just as he was well known for his playboy persona, you were infamous for never letting guys in. You cold heartedly turned down any and every guy who asked you out. And there had been a lot.

Sunwoo, on the other hand, was excited to spend time with you. Bubble tea was just an excuse to meet you outside of school grounds.

His phone dinged, notifying him of a text. Haknyeon had sent him a screenshot of a post made on the school’s gossip page and wrote “this you?”. He snorted at the content speculating his relationship status after supposedly receiving another confession and rolled his eyes. Curious, you asked him what he was looking at.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shook his head as he put the device away. “Just the stupid tea account.”

“Oh you mean that anonymously run social media page that popped up over summer break?” you frowned.

You hated everything about it. It spread rumors, without fact-checking, and started drama. It resulted in both a breakup and the end of a friendship in the span of two months. It was exactly what you and the school newspaper stood against.

Nothing could be done to stop the false information and invasion of privacy because it wasn’t officially affiliated with the school and the students continued to feed into it. People even sent in stories to be posted.

“So tell me what you do know about soccer,” he leaned in and propped his chin on the palms of his hands.

“I know the very basics from catching glimpses of the World Cup,” you leaned back on your chair, making him pout.

“Well, to be honest, explaining the rules is a lot easier to do when directly pointing things out during a game. There’s a match airing tonight. Do you want to come over and watch it with me?” he asked expectantly.

“We can watch the replay tomorrow during study hall,” you said.

“Then we can start by talking about me today,” he chirped. “My squad number is 19 because 9 is usually worn by centre forwards but I wanted to be special and added a 1 in front of it. I’m the centre forward, which is the main striker. That means playing offensive is my main objective. Which is why I’m the highest scorer on the team.”

You wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. It irked you how he so easily bragged about himself.

“I also really like movies and can play the guitar. A true all-rounder and romanticist,” he smiled.

He continued to reveal fun facts about himself for another half an hour. It was only at the end that you realized most of it was useless when writing for the paper. You groaned, realizing you had fallen for his trap.

Still, you learned some things about soccer and his position in the team. Following him to the cafe hadn’t been a complete waste of your time.

The next day, Sunwoo hunted you down to make sure you kept your promise about watching the game together. He dragged you to the computer room during study hall and pulled out the earbuds he prepared. He had purposely rummaged through his drawers the night before to the share wired ones with you.

You had to admit he was extremely helpful when explaining the rules and strategies of soccer. Despite being uncomfortable with the proximity of his body to yours, he was a great teacher. He made everything sound so simple. After you began to understand the game, you even found yourself enjoying the match.

After spending a week with him, you hated that you couldn’t say you still disliked him. After all, you two met almost every day for hours.

You had a gut feeling that you would come to regret it and were proven right. You had a bad feeling the moment you saw Jaehyun run up to you as if his life depended on it. Panting, he barely pulled himself together to show you the post that made him immediately report to you.

“KSW and Y/INITIALS seen cozily spending time together. Will he be the one to finally break through her?” you read aloud.

A photo of your backs from the computer room and a mosaicked side shot of you two at the cafe were attached to the title. The comments under the post were even more ridiculous.

“A challenge to be anticipated.”

“Poor girl will only end up as one of his many heartbroken playthings.”

“I know who KSW is. Who’s Y/INITIALS??”

“The legendary man hater? With a guy?? Wow how good must he be 👀”

“Damn so she rejected me for him?”

Your blood boiled and you shoved the phone away. Trying to calm yourself down, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. And failed.

“What is this, fucking Dispatch?” you exploded. A few students passing by stared at your outburst and widened their eyes when they saw that it was you. You sighed, knowing that the whole school saw the post.

“I’m not a celebrity! Why are people so invested in fake rumors about me?” you yelled, trying to keep your voice to a whisper as you pulled Jaehyun into an empty classroom.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” he assured.

“If I ever find out who the admin of this page is, I will ruin them,” you glowered.

You almost didn’t go to the soccer practice that day. But you knew that avoiding him would only add fuel to the fire so you sucked it up and went to the field after school as usual. You heard the hushed murmurs that stirred among the team when you arrived and you wanted to turn back around and leave.

Before you could, however, Sunwoo appeared and shut everyone up with a warning glare. He announced that the coach would be late and to start by running laps.

You were more annoyed than upset about the post. It just stupefied you that people really had nothing better to do than gossip about you. You didn’t think you were that interesting.

You were so close to escaping after practice but Sunwoo caught you trying to sneak away. He stood in front of you, crossing his arms as if to ask where you were going. Giving up, you muttered a “fine” and waited for him to change out of his uniform.

This time, you two wordlessly agreed to go to a different cafe. With the bubble teas on the table in front of you, you sat in silence until Sunwoo finally spoke up.

“Don’t mind what the post or others say,” he huffed.

“I’m not too bothered by it,” you shrugged.

“Good. Because I want to get to know you as just Y/n and Sunwoo. Through whatever you wish to tell and show me. I feel like we’re always just talking about me.”

His words left you speechless. Juyeon hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned how thoughtful Sunwoo was. You felt your heart warm as you smiled.

“Well what do you want to know about me?” you asked.

“Anything. Everything.”

So you spilled about your interests, hobbies, and goals. It was strange. Although it hadn’t been long since you met him, you felt comfortable around him. He made you feel at ease and you didn’t think twice about opening up to him.

You told him about your struggles as a high achieving student. About the pressure you felt and how embarrassing it was to tell people that you didn’t have any dreams.

With your grades, all the teachers expected you to apply to medical school. On the other hand, your parents encouraged you to work towards a high paying and stable salary as a corporation employee. Your friends suggested that you go for something in journalism because of your passion and commitment to the school newspaper.

But the club was just something you did for fun. You didn’t know if you liked it enough to pursue it as a career.

Sunwoo listened attentively as you went on about your concerns. From the outside, you looked like you had your life together. You were the perfect student and the girl that many guys chased after. But as he spent more time with you, it became clear that you were very uncomfortable with boys.

“Can I ask how you got so close with the Bermuda line?” he asked.

“The Bermuda line? What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the term? Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon are called the Bermuda line because they’re the most popular athletes out of all the sports teams. The girls say that once you fall for them, you’re stuck in between them forever because you can’t get out.”

You hadn’t laughed that hard in so long. You knew they had fans but found it hilarious how the trio even had a nickname.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to make fun of them for this,” you laughed, nearly in tears.

When he told you that they actually took great pride in the title, you bursted out in laughter again. Their self love truly was on another level.

“So how’d you end up friends?” he asked again.

“Juyeon, I’ve known since middle school. We were in the same class for all three years. Jaehyun didn’t go to the same school as us but he was friends with Juyeon because they played basketball together. I met him and Younghoon at the end of freshman year. They kinda crash landed into my life but we really clicked so that’s why I still bless them with my friendship.”

Sunwoo giggled at your own overwhelming confidence. He loved that you never sold yourself short. He didn’t notice he had been staring at you until you pointed it out. Blushing, he insisted that it was nothing and took another sip of his bubble tea.

Two months passed by and you eventually came to call Sunwoo a friend. Younghoon teased you about him being more than a friend and at first, you thought he was crazy. But with him planting the idea in your head, you began to question your own feelings. Cursing Younghoon, you blamed him for confusing you.

As the designated photographer, you tagged along to the soccer team’s last match. The entire team was nervous as it would determine the winner of the tournament. Even Sunwoo was anxious.

Before the game started, you offered him a supportive smile and he felt all worries lifted off his shoulders. He erased all thoughts of winning and losing and just concentrated on the ball. He wanted to enjoy the last match of the season and look cool in front of you. That was all that mattered to him.

Fortunately, he got both plus the win. The crowd erupted into cheers as he scored the winning goal just seconds before the whistle was blown to signal the end of the game. His knees fell to the ground and his teammates rushed to surround him.

Seeing how happy he looked brought a smile to your lips. He jumped up and scanned the bleachers for your face. When he finally spotted you, he broke away from his team to run up to you and embrace you in a giant hug.

Caught off guard, you froze as his teammates hooted and applauded. You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention.

“Congratulations,” you chuckled, patting his back. “You did well.”

“Did you get a lot of pretty pictures of me?” he grinned, pulling away to look at you.

“No, I only took pictures of Haknyeon,” you joked. By now, he was used to your teasing and simply ruffled your hair in response.

“There’s gonna be an after party tonight,” he brought up carefully. “I’d really like it if you came. Only if you’re okay with that type of scene though.”

Surprised, you nodded before you fully thought it through.

That was how you ended up moping at Jaehyun’s house. The invitation was extended to the Bermuda line as well and they were all planning on dragging you there. Younghoon was excited at the thought of finally going to a party with the whole group and Juyeon was picking out an outfit for you from Jaehyun’s sister’s closet.

“I don’t know if I trust your fashion sense,” she made a face at the top he held up.

This was your first party and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. There was a reason you hadn’t gone to one throughout your high school years.

Nonetheless, you were dressed up in an outfit that definitely reflected Jaehyun’s sister’s style more than yours. She fawned over how pretty you were and urged you to go with the boys.

So you walked through the doors and into the house vibrating with music. Everyone who recognized you was shocked to see you there. Feeling awkward, you stuck by Jaehyun’s side as you maneuvered around the throng of people. When he finally caught sight of Sunwoo, he dipped and left you alone with him.

“Thanks for coming,” he shouted over the loud music.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you shouted back.

Sunwoo offered you a drink, which you declined. Following your choice, he opted for a soda instead as well. You weren’t much of a dancer so you enjoyed people watching instead. It was fascinating to see your classmates have so much fun.

You giggled when you saw Juyeon be so painfully oblivious to a girl’s advances and walked away to dance with Younghoon. Meanwhile, Jaehyun was having the time of his life flirting with girls. You blocked your eyesight when you saw him leaning in to kiss one of them.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringed. “I do not need to know this side of my best friend’s love life.”

Laughing, Sunwoo offered to take you outside for some fresh air and a change of scenery. You gladly agreed and let him guide you to the backyard.

The night sky was full of tranquility that contrasted the chaos that ensued indoors. You sat on the grass and Sunwoo joined next to you.

“You look beautiful today,” he commented.

“Only today?” you laughed.

“Especially today,” he answered in a serious manner. His sincerity made you clear your throat and look away. He stunned you by cupping your face with his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Are you drunk?” you blinked.

“I haven’t had a single sip of alcohol.”

His voice was slow and raspy. Your heart was beating faster than you wanted it to and you knew the corners of your lips were betraying you.

“You can either lean in or pull away,” he said as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Your heart now felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Red alarms were going off in your head and you didn’t know what to do. All you knew was what you were only a few centimeters away from kissing Sunwoo.

So you did what any insane person would do and closed the gap between your lips. You wanted to punch him when you felt him smirk but he pulled you closer and held onto you tightly.

The weekend passed without much changes in your relationship with Sunwoo. You were worried that you had either ruined your friendship or that he was sick of you but Juyeon reassured you that he probably wanted to talk about it in person. Anxiously, you overthought things until Monday finally arrived.

Wanting to keep yourself busy until you met Sunwoo, you stopped by the club room early in the morning to import the photos from the last game. Shortly after you connected the camera to the computer, you heard a knock on the door.

Startled, you looked at the door and saw Jacob sheepishly poking his head through the door. You told him to come in and he took a seat next to you.

“Kevin told me to drop by before class for an interview,” he said. You nearly facepalmed. You had completely forgotten about that. You were supposed to interview him for the paper.

“Oh yeah! Hold on, let me go get my notebook,” you searched through your backpack to find it.

The volleyball player was this month’s star of the month and you had to write a piece on his past achievements. He was extremely kind and was careful not to use any advanced sports terminology to make sure anyone could easily read the interview, which you were grateful for.

Before you parted, he gave you a side hug out of habit and apologized when he realized that it was only his first time meeting you. You laughed it off and insisted that now you could be friends since you two hugged already. Relieved that you weren’t disturbed, he happily waved goodbye to you as he walked away.

Being in a different class than Sunwoo meant that you had to wait until lunch period to see him. You honestly didn’t even know if you wanted to see him. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

When the bell finally rang and it was time for lunch, Juyeon forced you to go to the cafeteria instead of hiding out in an empty classroom. The moment you sat down with your tray, however, you felt all eyes on you. Your stomach dropped, knowing it couldn’t be good news.

“Y/n, is this true..?” Jaehyun asked, showing you the new post on the gossip page. You hated that you were always right about bad intuitions.

KSW and Y/INITIALS caught making out at last night’s party… is BJY a side hoe?

You had no idea when a photo was taken in the brief second you and Jacob hugged that morning. When you scrolled and saw the next part, your heart dropped.

A shocking revelation of history: Y/INITIALS and SYJ used to date in freshman year. Does this have anything to do with the swimmer and basketball players always next to her?

You felt your breath caught in your throat as you read through the comments.

“Isn’t BJY on the volleyball team and SYJ on the baseball team?”

“Wow she clearly has a type.”

“I guess athletes just hit it well 👀”

“And here I thought KSW was the hoe… who’s playing with who?”

“Aye so KSW finally managed to break through her. Thanks for my $10 bro.”

“Aren’t the basketball players LJY and LJH? And the swimmer KYH? The Bermuda line, right?? I always thought she had a thing with one of them.”

“So much for the icy Y/INITIALS. She was acting all pretentious when she was already having all her fun.”

Juyeon grabbed the phone out of your hands and glared at Jaehyun. You never thought your past relationship would ever get exposed. There were only a handful of people who knew about it and it had stayed hidden under the rug up until now. It was something you wanted to bury and never think about ever again.

Shakily, you got up and ran out of the cafeteria with Younghoon calling out after you. You ran as fast as you could. You didn’t stop until you busted through the doors and collapsed on the rooftop. Your lungs were on fire and you closed your eyes to stop the ringing in your ears.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo was running across the school to find you. When he didn’t see you in the club room, he changed his target and sought out Eric.

“Is it true?” he demanded when he finally saw his friend.

“I can’t believe people already figured out that it’s me,” Eric sighed.

“Is it true?” Sunwoo repeated.

“Yes, yes, it’s true,” he answered with his hands up in defeat. “She never wanted anyone to find out. We didn’t exactly end on good terms. It’s something I’m not proud of.”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to contain his anger. “What did you do to her?”

“I…” Eric trailed off. “I cheated on her.”

“What the hell, Eric?” Sunwoo yelled.

“I-I was stupid! And young. It’s the biggest mistake I made in my life,” he admitted.

Frustrated, Sunwoo left and ran off in search of you again. When you weren’t anywhere to be found, he checked the rooftop as a last resort. He didn’t expect to actually see you there.

“Y/n,” he breathed. You felt a lump form in your throat. It was the first time he had addressed you by your name.

“Get away from me,” you glared. “Was I nothing but a bet to you? Was I just a challenge for you to win?”

“Y/n, I never placed bets on you. I don’t know what other people have been betting on but I have always been genuine with you,” he affirmed.

You refused to let your tears fall. There was no way Kim Sunwoo was going to see you cry.

“I like you,” he confessed. “I like you a lot. I meant to say this that night but got too flustered. So I wanted to tell you today. Whenever I see you, the butterflies in my stomach won’t go away. When I don’t see you, I miss you like crazy. You inspire me to become a better person and all I want to do is hold you and call you mine.”

And now Kim Sunwoo has officially seen you cry. He bent down to wrap his arms around you as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled after you calmed down.

“I think you mean the opposite,” he chuckled. “Whatever barriers you put up to protect yourself, I’m going to take them down one by one. With you. Together.”

“Who said I’m helping?” you muttered.

“Then I guess I have to work twice as hard to prove myself,” he softly smiled.

“This is embarrassing,” you groaned.

“This will only be embarrassing for me if you reject me,” his hand reached out to the nape of his neck. “So what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“I’ll think about it,” you huffed, prompting a chuckle from him.

[just--another--daydreamer]

Close to you

» Izuku Midoriya x male reader

» Angst with some fluff » Requested (by anon): I need a fix of desperate, angsty fluff with Izuku. Maybe his hero bf recklessly goes after a villain alone and gets captured, so Pro-hero Deku has to rush to his rescue, scared of what he might find. » Warnings: mentions of religion at the beginning; dissociation; anxiety; overthinking; smoking; emetophobia; descriptions of blood & gore; mentions of death » Words: ~3.5k

You can find a link to my Masterlist etc in my bio and pinned post

Midoriya had never been one to pray to any gods for a wish. To him, it often felt selfish – after all, there were people who needed help more desperately than he did and they should receive it first. Even during his darkest moments, he had never even thought about praying, he had always known that he could rely on his own strength as well as his friends.

However, this time, his hands trembled as he put them together in a manner meant for praying. With his eyes closed and head lowered, Midoriya tried to think of a way to phrase his prayer but no right wording would come to his mind – in the end, he only stared at the dark behind his closed eyelids, incomprehensible thoughts filling his mind.

“Izuku.” A firm grip on his shoulder pulled Midoriya from his thoughts. It caught him off-guard, and he almost prepared himself for an attack before he recognized the person who stood before the bench Midoriya sat on. “Oh Shouto, it’s you!” Midoriya sighed in relief at the sight of his friend. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but the meeting should start very soon, and I didn’t want to miss the chance to talk to you before the others are here.” They were still the only ones in the bright yet depressing hallway of the hero agency that Deku currently worked at, and after taking a quick look at his watch, Midoriya figured that it would still take the other heroes a few minutes to get there. “Sure, what is it?” The light smile that had adorned Todoroki’s lips from when he had just greeted Midoriya vanished again and was replaced by a deep, concerned frown.

“I don’t think you should be leading this mission, Izuku, but someone else should do it,” Todoroki’s voice sounded just as concerned as he looked. “To be frank I would not even want you to participate in this rescue at all, but I don’t think that I could ever stop you from that.” Midoriya took a moment to think about his fellow pro hero’s words. It had already taken him all the self-control he had to not immediately run after you to save you, so he had to be on this mission. Though, he had to admit that due to the personal feelings toward this mission, his judgement might be off, so having someone else lead it would probably put them at an advantage.

“When you’re saying, ‘someone else’, do you mean yourself?” he inquired, and Todoroki nodded in confirmation. Midoriya took a few seconds to consider the proposal. Down the hall, he could hear the rest of the team for the rescue mission approach them. “Alright, let’s do it!”

The small conference room was unusually quiet. There was no happy catching up with one another, no euphoric reunions after not seeing each other for a few months. A pressing silence filled the room like thick, heavy fog as the ex-class 1A students Midoriya, Todoroki, Iida, Kirishima and Uraraka sat around the table, eyes fixed on their hands and the files in front of them. The only words that had been spoken were words of solidarity towards Midoriya, which he appreciated.

While Todoroki opened the meeting by greeting everyone and thanking them for coming, Midoriya stared down at his hands. The skin on his fingertips around the nails was reddened, a side effect of his anxious habit of biting his fingernails. Midoriya thought that he had gotten rid of said habit, but the current situation had changed many things. Before him on the table, his hands started to blur as his eyes filled with tears once again. He quickly wiped them away, hoping that nobody would notice.

Todoroki’s speech only barely reached him, only as a seemingly distant, faint mumbling as though he was speaking to Midoriya through a thick concrete wall. The whole room started feeling like a wide and open space with his former classmates miles and miles away. Mind numbing emptiness filled Midoriya’s heart and went through his veins until it was the only thing he felt in his whole body. As his breathing got faster, his heartrate picked up. Why was he there? Why was he not on his way to get you already? Even though he sat perfectly still, Midoriya felt dizzy, only from the way his mind spun – around and around and around like a carousel, Deku being the only passenger on this horrendous ride.

“You look really pale, Deku, are you alright?” Uraraka’s voice was as soft as ever. The soothing tone was able to momentarily stop Midoriya’s mind. For a second, he looked at her without an answer before simply nodding.

Only when Todoroki asked Midoriya to go over the situation once again, he was completely pulled back into reality. His legs trembled a little as Deku stood up. The eyes of his former classmates all followed his movements very carefully, trying to get clues about their friend’s mental state that the situation caused. Uraraka and Kirishima looked especially worried whereas Todoroki and Iida kept their expressions professional.

“Thank you everyone for coming on such short notice,” Midoriya started. He balled his hands to fists and squeezed as hard as he could to keep his mind from wandering too much that might cause him to break down again. “The villain organization that has been watched by several agencies for the past few months made a move about a week ago, as some of you may know. It was the first incident of that kind and several civilians got hurt in the process.” Deku clearly remembered the pictures of the scene on the news. Neither his nor the hero agency you worked for had been able to stop that despite being the ones watching the organization. “Y/N went after the villains alone and has not been seen since.” His voice got quieter with every word he spoke.

Your actions contradicted what you had learned at UA not so long ago. Staying calm and collected in crises, thinking rationally, and getting help was the priority. But guilt and anger had eaten you up. Midoriya could not blame you for that, even if he wanted to. He had experienced the same feelings in the past, put himself in danger, worried others, all because he wanted to play hero. Midoriya sat down again and let Todoroki take over once again.

“Since we know where the villains are hiding, it will be easy to retrieve the target.” ‘The target’. Midoriya flinched. The way the words came out of Todoroki’s mouth, the lack of emotion and his straight face were something admirable and scary at the same time. Reducing you to merely the word ‘target’ and the emotional disconnect that came with it would probably make this mission easier for Deku, but he just did not manage to think that way. With a sigh, he sank deeper into his chair and listened to Todoroki’s plan.

It was an easy one, starting with negotiations led by Iida. He was the best that that sort of thing, so Midoriya had no problem leaving that to him. However, he was not really fond of the idea of exchanging your life for something like money but since it was the easiest way to avoid direct confrontation, they had to try it. If that did not work, Iida would go in through the front door, and Todoroki, Deku, Kirishima and Uraraka through the back door in two teams to get ‘the target’ out by themselves. Combat was to be avoided. The top priority was getting you out, not arresting the bad guys, though the police would be waiting in front of the building to take them in.

The base of the small villain group was an abandoned warehouse – because of course it would be that. The alley behind it was narrow and dirty, littered with shards of glass and cigarette butts. Next to the dark water in the potholes, Midoriya could see dried as well as fresh blood shimmering on the asphalt. The sight made him sick, a feeling he had not experienced in a while.

The four heroes came to a halt at the place where they would go into the building through the back door. There were no guards, which came as a surprise, but even if there had been some it would not have been a problem for any of them. Midoriya and Todoroki stayed back and inspected the alley while Uraraka and Kirishima got ready at the heavy double-winged door

 Midoriya crouched down and inspected the blood stains. Todoroki’s eyes were fixed on him, he could almost physically feel it. With his gloved hand, Midoriya moved some reddened shards around, not entirely sure of what he was doing or why he was doing it in the first place, but it was a way to keep his hands and mind busy. Todoroki had his own ways of doing that. “I thought you quit,” Midoriya remarked. “I thought so too, but-” Todoroki did not care to finish his sentence and only a few seconds later, the smell of cigarette smoke reached Deku. He wrinkled his nose. “The situation is getting to me too, you know?” Todoroki’s pronunciation was a bit curious with the cig between his lips. “The same goes for the others. Kirishima, Uraraka, Iida, they’re all worried. Bakugou, too, even though he isn’t here today.” A short pause. Deku assumed that Todoroki was taking a deep drag. “It is really getting to me.” His voice was quieter this time and it had a tone to it that Deku barely knew from his friend. It was desperate, hopeless, pleading.

Midoriya had no words of affirmation that he could tell Todoroki. Hell, if he could think positively in this situation, everything would be a lot easier. He searched and searched for words, but none would come to his mind. And in the end, he did not need to say anything. Midoriya’s communication device made a static sound, before he heard Iida’s voice, loud and clear. »Negotiations failed. What will be the next step?« “We’re going in,” Todoroki told them without hesitation. “Understood!” Midoriya got back up and was at the door in less than a second. He looked at Uraraka and Kirishima, both had a determined look on their face.

Todoroki stepped to them and – given the lack of a bin – dropped his half-smoked cigarette to the ground. “That’s not very heroic of you, Todoroki,” Kirishima commented. Uraraka giggled and even Midoriya managed to crack a smile. “I’ll pick it up later,” the leader of their mission said and Deku was sure he saw his lips twitch into a fond expression as well, even if it was only for a split second. They all became serious again. “Deku, open the door for us.”

  The inside of the building was dark and empty, and Midoriya was not sure why he had expected anything else. His and Uraraka’s footsteps on the wet ground resounded through the empty hallway. It was quite dark, most of the lamps on the walls were either broken or very dim, so the major source of light were the occasional holes in the ceiling. It took Midoriya all the self-control he had not to activate One For All and charge forward – Uraraka and he were a team, and they should stay together since running around alone might be dangerous. The further they got into the building, the harder it got for Midoriya to keep it together. With every door they opened, with every room they inspected, anxiety and terror grew withing him. There was no sign of you.

It did not take long for some villains to show up, but at this point in time they were no match for Deku. Anyone who tried to get in his way right now was put down in mere seconds. Uraraka kept his back free and had an eye on him in case he got too reckless.

The last door he approached was a pain to open. Midoriya had to push it with his shoulder since the hinges were rusty and it took him a few tries until the door finally budged and creaked open. Behind the door, Midoriya was met with a pitch-black room. He reached over to the wall besides the entrance and searched for a light switch. A single light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered on, only giving enough light for Midoriya to see the rough shapes of the room’s interior, but it slowly started glowing brighter. That was when his heart stopped.

For a split second, Midoriya thought that maybe he had come too late, that maybe you were already dead. The sight of you, tied to a chair with ropes so tight that they were cutting into the flesh on your wrists and ankles sent shivers up and down his spine. Blood dripping down from your chin had already formed a small pool on the already wet floor. He noticed the smell of blood, sweat and vomit still fresh and heavy in the air.

“Y/N?” His voice was merely a whisper. Maybe he was afraid that if he were loud enough for you to hear, you would not react. Midoriya forced himself to take a step. Lift his foot off the ground, move it onwards, put it down again. Now with his other foot. Lift, onwards, down. And again. With every step, a new wave of sensations and feelings washed over Midoriya. First it was disgust – he could not help that one but looking at your skin peeling off your flesh and exposing the bare muscle tissue and bone almost made him vomit. Then it was hysteria – Midoriya could both laugh and cry out loud until he lost his voice, kiss you on your dead cold bloody lips, dance and jump through this awful room – because he finally found you but what if it were too late? Then it was fear – and with this feeling numbing his mind once again, he reached you.

“Y/N?” He crouched down so his face was on one level with yours. The dull sound of Midoriya’s gloves falling to the ground echoed through the room, to him it was almost as loud as an explosion. As he held his breath, his now bare hand reached out for you almost all on its own, touched your neck, searched for a pulse. To Midoriya’s relief, your skin was not cold, but warm. Maybe even a bit too warm. His hand wandered up your neck and he cupped your cheek, wiped away some blood with his thumb. Under his touch, your muscles twitched. Midoriya pulled back and watched as your eyes fluttered open. Your gaze was empty and unfocused for a while, wandering from the dark walls of the room to the lightbulb over your head, until it stopped on Midoriya’s face.

He watched as your eyes widened. “Izuku?” Your voice was hoarse and filled with so much desperation that it made the hero’s heart drop. “Is it really you?” Midoriya nodded. He pressed his lips together and did not dare to answer, afraid that his voice would break if he said anything. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You made an attempt to reach out for him but the restraints around your wrists made that impossible. Midoriya swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to stay focused. “And I’ve been looking for you. I’ll get you out of here now.” Over the comms, he quickly informed his teammates over the mission’s success before he reached into his pocket for a knife. “I’m sorry that I’m so late,” he told you as he cut through the ropes. They were sticky, some even slippery from the blood. Deku tried not to pay too much attention to that but the sight of the crimson red shimmering on his hands made him gag. “The most important thing is that you’re here now.” You cracked a smile, but it did not look too convincing.

Once your hands were free, you swiftly wrapped your arms around Midoriya. It took him by surprise, but he hugged you back, careful not to use too much strength that might hurt you. You buried your face deep in Midoriya’s chest, fingers digging into his back, clinging to his suit. Just now he felt the way your body trembled, Midoriya did not know if it was exhaustion or fear. Maybe he was shaking as well. He wanted to stay like this forever, feel you in his arms, warm and alive, hold onto this thought and only this one while ignoring the horrible reality. Blood wet Midoriya’s clothes but he had nothing to take care of your wounds with. To be honest, he did not want to look at them. All he wanted was to keep holding on to you, forever.

Fighting noises reached his ears, not too far away. Men yelling. Your grip tightened a little and Midoriya thought that maybe you were shaking a little more now. “I want to leave, Izuku,” you whispered. Midoriya did not say anything. He listened carefully as the noises faded away. A few seconds of pressing silence passed awfully slow. »We’re all clear!« Todoroki’s voice was calm but Midoriya heard a hint of relief. However, he decided to stay put for a few more minutes to make sure that no other people were picking a fight anywhere else.

“Let’s go,” he said after a while. He could not spend another minute in this building, afraid that you might end up dying from your injuries.

As gently as he possibly could, Midoriya lifted you from the chair and carried you out of the building.

  Talking to the police and the press was a pain. Todoroki did most of it, given that he had been the leader of this mission, but Deku still had to talk to everyone as well. Press conferences with countless questions, some challenging their beliefs and morals as heroes, some too personal for Midoriya to answer – questions about you, your wellbeing, your relationship to the hero Deku. When he was not currently being interrogated by the public, Midoriya spent every free minute in the hospital, by your side. At first the doctors had not let him see you, but he had still stayed there the entire time. And when he was finally allowed in your room, Midoriya could not contain himself and his emotions any longer.

He sobbed and cried and swore and apologized all in one go without taking a breath while you tried to calm him down. He held your hand the entire time he was there, afraid that if he let go off you for one second, some villains might separate the two of you again.

“When are you getting released from the hospital?” Uraraka questioned while she put a small bouquet into a vase on the windowsill. The blossoms shone in the golden light of the evening sun and threw dancing shadows on your white blanket. “Next week, probably.” You gave her a tired smile. “Though I’ll have to be inactive for a while during my healing process.” Midoriya knew that having to neglect your hero duties like that was hard for you, so he squeezed your hand reassuringly. “We’re all wishing you well!” “Thanks Uraraka!” The two of you watched as the young woman left again. She was not the only one who had visited. The whole team had been there, Todoroki visited frequently, and even Bakugou had showed up once or twice.

“This sucks, I’m so bored!” You whined, getting a short chuckle from Midoriya. “I know, but you need some more rest.” He looked down at your intertwined fingers. Your wrists were still covered in bandages but some of your wounds had started to heal again. However, it would still take quite a while for you to fully recover. Midoriya ran his thumb over the fabric. “You’ll get better soon, and I’ll always be here to support you during this time. I miss you at home and being close to you.” “Thank you. And I miss that too.” A soft smile formed on your lips, so Midoriya leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on them. He lingered there for a moment before standing up and grabbing his jacket. “I should get going, it’s late and you need your rest.” “Alright!”

Midoriya slipped into his jacket but before he could leave, you sat up, grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him down into another kiss. “Hey, you’re supposed to lay dow-” Midoriya started to complain but quickly quit to return the kiss. When you let him go and Midoriya walked towards the door he had a smile on his face. Everything was going to be fine. He turned around by the door and looked at the flowers and the curtain moving in the wind. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” “See you tomorrow, Izuku!”

[txdoroki]

when they truly realized they were in love with you.

bakugou, todoroki, denki, kirishima

you had only been dating a month or two, but you both spent a lot of time together. every now and then you’d spend the night at his room. the first time you did, bakugou had had an especially bad nightmare, and had woken up with tears in his eyes. he hated those tears. he dug his palms into his face over his eyes, trying to clear the images of his nightmare from his mind. a hand on his arm shook him from his focus on his screaming thoughts. he moved one of his hands from his face and looked at you with squinted, teary eyes, confused as to why you weren’t yelling at him right about now. “‘katsu, what’s going on?”. when he hesitantly told you about the nightmare, you began to rub soothing patterns into his back. even though he was frowning at you he felt safe. he has never forgotten that night, and a few weeks later when he had brought it up, you said you’d do it whenever he needed.

you both were sitting quietly in his dorm, you on your phone and todoroki on his as you leaned against his side, your head resting on his shoulder. he turned to see your phone when you scoffed at whatever you were looking at, curious as to what you had seen. it was a photo of endeavor, the caption saying ‘mans is so fine it’s unfair’. “what is it?” he cocked his head. he hadn’t exactly told you about everything endeavor’s done to him just yet, you both hadn’t been together that long. so he was looking forward to see why you weren’t a fan of his father already. “endeavor is just fucking stupid, hate his ass,” you giggled, laughing harder when you saw the small smirk on shoto’s face. he just nodded, and went back to scrolling on his phone silently. a few minutes later you heard a mumbled “i agree, y/n,” come from his mouth followed by a chuckle.

denki and you had been playing minecraft together for quite a few hours in his dorm, he was the miner and you were the builder. you would always add little roses and daises next to his mines, insisting that it gave him good luck. before each time he’d go out to mine for a while, you’d play different minecraft parodies and dance around your well-built house together. you both looked forward to after your classes when you both would get onto your pcs. it was the highlight of his day, well, either that or the soft kisses on his nose you’d give him everytime he found diamonds. mans become desperate for diamonds after that, he really does love your kisses. whenever he kills a mob that was a little too close to his and his beloved’s house, you’d cheer him on. you weren’t the best at fighting, so he’d always be sprinting to wherever you were if there were a lot of mobs around you. one time, you were shouting, “denki, save me! mobs!” and then when he came to where you were, you had hit him with your sword a few times and killed him, you both were roaring with laughter during the whole ordeal. “c’mon babe, what was that for?” he fake pouted and looked up at you from his computer at your lack of response, his lips turning up into a smile when he saw you crying from laughing. his heart felt so full with joy everytime he saw you.

the first day you and kirishima had started dating, you agreed on having a tradition of a non-negotiable movie night every saturday. more often than not, you’d watch some random children’s movie you had decided on. you got to choose the movies probably two thirds of the times, but whenever he got to choose, he’d always choose the most stupid, badly rated horror movie he could find. so, he figured out the perfect plan to mess with you. he found the best horror movie he could find (with the help of sero), and played it, not telling you it was well-made. it made his heart melt whenever you slowly got closer and closer to him, your eyes wide as you focused on the screen. “what? need me to be your hero and protect you?” he toothily smiled at you, giggling when you nodded and cuddled further into him, pressing as far into his side you could get. his arm was wrapped around you tightly as you trained your gaze back onto the movie in front of you, your nearly overwhelming fear making you feel as if your stomach was turning over itself. “i thought this was supposed to be bad and not scary,” you whispered, although it was just the two of him in the room anyways, no need to whisper. “it is bad hah! don’t worry, i’m here to protect you, of course,”. “yup, wouldn’t doubt it for a second. you know .. you’re so manly, kiri. what would i do without you?” his heart swelled when he heard you say those words. “really?”. “manliest guy i know, i’m glad to be your partner,” you kissed his cheek with a bright smile after saying the last bit. yep. he loved you, alright. he really did love you.

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