#sorry for rambling but i only recently came to the realization of just how harsh i have been to myself

[patheticlizard]

i realize now i havent actually posted any art (on this page anyway) in almost a full year. i didnt really draw much in 2023 but i still had a handful of finished works that i was just not in the right mindset to post. i will try to get around to that! will have to remember to set up a queue. definitely need to remember all my tags...

im trying to get into a better mindset about drawing at all. the past 3 years have done nothing but make art become increasingly more and more negative to me, and anytime i tried to draw i just got mad at myself to the verge of tears because im just. not as good as i used to be in my opinion. but thats not very fair to myself and im trying to get better about that! ive been drawing again recently and having fun doing so because i lowered expectations of myself and honestly. its really nice to just fuck around and draw silly little guys again.

[kolsmikaelson]

girls just want to have fun ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

Synopsis ; In which, Neteyam’s best friend, Y/N, has been having a rough week so he decides to make a special night for her. He wants to make it perfect but his plans go south when Lo’ak gets injured while out with the hunting party and gets stuck watching him for the night.

a/n - i saw avatar and fell for neteyam and this is what came of it | warning(s) - use of y/n, sweet neteyam, not proofread | word count - 1.4k+ | taglist

“Lo’ak you skxawng! You just had to go and get hurt today didn’t you?” Neteyam scolds his brother, Lo’aks ears flatten against his head and he begins spewing apologies. He really hadn’t mean to get hurt, it was a stupid mistake and he knew it. He felt for his brother and spent most of the journey home begging Jake to let him stay behind by himself instead of forcing Neteyam to watch over him.

“Come on, you know that I have been planning this night for Y/N for days now.” Neteyam knows that he’s being harsh with his brother but the remorse he feels is pushed to the back of his mind when he remembers you.

You and Neteyam were attached at the hip ever since birth, being born only a few days apart. People would often make comments about the two of you becoming mates when you were of age. When you were still children both you and Neteyam would make faces at whoever said it, claiming that you were best friends and only that.

Now that you are older, having passed both yours and Neteyams eighteenth birthday a few months back, you knew that your feelings for the boy had changed for the better. Instead of being disgusted by the comments of being with him, you would get flustered and the butterflies in your stomach would feel like a wild stampede running through your belly.

Unbeknownst to you, Neteyam felt the same way as you did. He realized his feelings for you before you did, he’d known since just before his sixteenth, he didn’t know what changed but all of the sudden he couldn’t wait to see you each day and make you laugh the way he loves to hear. Most days he couldn’t tear his eyes off of you, it was something Lo’ak and Spider teased him relentlessly for.

“Why can’t Spider or Kiri watch him? They’d be just fine.” He questions turning to his parents angrily. He had been looking forward to not only the night off, but to spend it with his favorite person. He wasn’t sure of the last time you’d gotten to spend any alone time together and he knew how rough things had been for you recently.

Jake gives a disapproving look to his eldest son, “Because Neteyam, Kiri had already promised to take Tuk out to play tonight and your mother and I trust you with your brother far more than we trust Spider. You know how he follows your sister like a lost puppy.”

“This a bad time?”

Every head in the room turns towards the opening of the hut, Neteyams being the last one to look in your direction.

“No, no, come in Y/N.” Neytiri insists, ushering you over the threshold.

“How are you, Y/N?” She questions, leaning against Jake’s side who instantly wraps an arm around her waist.

“I’m alright ma’am, I have been having a tough time recently I will admit.” You confess with a tight lipped smile, Neytiri though can see that you’re holding back.

“I see, if you ever want to speak about anything you’re welcome to come to me, sweet girl.” She hums, giving you a smile so sweet it brings tears to your eyes.

“And call me Neytiri, dear.”

“Thank you ma- Neytiri.” You clear your throat, willing the tears in your eyes to disappear, hoping that they weren’t noticeable.

“Are you ready to go, ‘Teyam?”

There’s a pregnant silent moment before Neteyam speaks up, “Actually, um I have to watch Lo’aks skxawng ass, he got himself hurt when he was hunting earlier.” He rambles, ignoring his father’s disapproving scoff at his language, “And I’m so sorry, I was really looking forward to tonight and I wanted to do something special for you…”

“ ‘Teyam,” Putting your hand on his chest, forcing him to take a break from his rant, “It is fine, don’t worry.”

“We’ll just do this another day, okay?”

“Actually, why don’t you two stay in tonight? That way Neteyam can keep an eye on Lo’ak but still spend the night with Y/N.” Jake suggests, looking at Neytiri who is nodding in agreement with her mate’s proposal.

“Yeah! It’ll be like I’m not even here!” Lo’ak exclaimed, wincing in pain at his sudden movements, “Maybe..” He adds.

“What do you think, Y/N? Think you can handle two Sully’s tonight?” Neteyam smirks, nudging your arm with his elbow.

“Okay, yeah all right.”

“Good! Your father and I need to head out but there’s food,” Your gaze follows where Neytiri’s finger is pointed at, “Nete, put this on your brother the way I showed you to in an hour.”

“Yes ma’am. See you later.” he nods at his parents as they climb out of the hut before they swing off through the trees.

“Here, was going to give these to you when we got to the spot, but now works too,” The boy hands you a clump of beautiful flowers and he brings his hand to the back of his neck, scratching the area where his fingers landed.

The flowers were a mix of blue and purple hues, some of them were larger while others were smaller, it was obvious they had been plucked with care. Your heart squeezed with warmth at the sweet gesture. It was something he did often, bringing you little things to cheer you up or things that remind him of you and each time made your heart swell with happiness.

“Had to ask Kiri to help me pick the right ones.” He says bashfully. This made the gesture even more special to you, Neteyam wasn’t one to ask for help but knowing he did for you made happy tears burn in your eyes.

“Thank you, Neteyam. So much.” You throw your arms around his waist, nuzzling your head against his chest pressing a soft kiss to his blue skin.

Fuck it, Neteyam thinks. He’d planned to confess his feelings for you after he brought you home but now he didn’t want to wait anymore, he couldn’t wait anymore.

“Come here,” He pulls you to the farthest spot from Lo’ak, hoping he wouldn’t hear what he was about to admit, “I was going to do this at the end of tonight but I can’t keep this from you anymore,” Neteyam takes one last deep breath before continuing, “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long, long time, forever I think. I want to be yours and you to be mine, for the rest of my life. We are of age now, nobody would deny us of this.”

Your eyes widen at his implication, thoughts running rampant in your mind.

“I love you too, ‘Teyam. And I would love even more, to be your mate if that is what you were implying.” You smile smugly, poking him in the chest. You rest your hand on his cheek, pushing a braid out of his face and behind his ear.

“Eywa, I’m so glad you told me. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, Nete.”

“Can I kiss you now?” Neteyams hands find themselves planted on your cheeks, his eyes looking intently into yours.

“Please ‘Teyam…”

In the blink of an eye, his soft lips are on yours. The kiss is kind and passionate but turns into something slightly more heated. Only breaking apart when you’re both in need of air.

“Thank Eywa.” Lo’ak comments.

“Shut up, skxawng.” Neteyams quip causes a laugh to bubble in your chest, it only spills out when you see he’s thrown his middle finger in the air aiming it at his younger brother.

“I know this isn’t what you expected tonight to turn out like, but I’m glad it worked out for us.”

“Me either, ma Neteyam, me either.” Planting one more kiss on his lips you walk to the food Neytiri had left for the three of you.

“Who’s hungry?”

You plate some food for Lo’ak, handing it off to Neteyam to pass along before making one for you and Neteyam to share.

———

“Look at them, I told you it would happen one day.” Neytiri murmurs to her mate, seeing her eldest son and the girl she’s always thought of as a daughter curled into each other asleep under a blanket.

“They remind me of us, a bit younger than we were but have you seen the way they look at one another?” She continues.

“They deserve it, they’ve both been working so hard lately.” Jake wraps his arms around Neytiri, his tail swishing back and forth behind him, lightly tickling Neytiri’s legs.

“C’mon, lets go to bed.” He pressed a kiss to her neck, stalking towards his and Neytiris space for the night.

taglist (bold means i cannot tag you) ; @lvtilzs @2manytabsopen @jimzk @tainted-artist4161 @boqvistsbabe @777slatina @michelledelray @i-bet-you-think-about-me-mp3 @i984​ @tinafuentes @whotfatemywaffles @conniesanchor @izzy-laufeyson @swagabclearner @fallonaurr @ke1ramar1e @georgi-salva @lastwandastan @lonelywitchv2 @hopefulwitchcandy​ @lovelyy-moonlight @alexxavicry​ @hockeyboysarehot​ @bluesongbird​ @sunflowerlamb @hopexargent @liltimmyst​ @prettysummerbaby​ @fictionalho​ @ssprayberrythings

[shorkbrian]

How about some barbarian bakugo noncon?

Prelude - One time I came home from a walk and smelled this scent so freaking thick that I could taste it, and I almost threw up cause it smelled like skinning a deer but like, ten times worse?? and I was like lol that’s kinda weird and it turns out the neighbor had caught a skunk in a catch-and-release trap (which we gave him cause we didn’t want him catching a skunk in a trap that’d kill it) and apparently decided to kill it right then and there, and just let it by the edge of his property, right by my car. That was fun. 

Anyways, Katsuki makes a big deal about reader looking different in this. You can take that any way you’d like. Personally, I was feeling insecure about my freckles (I have so many that my skin almost looks even-toned because they almost all touch rip) and my hair color/odd face so I wrote him liking that reader looked different. It’s not super deep lol

Pairing - Bakugou Katsuki X Reader X slight Izuku Midoriya

Warnings - NSFW, dubcon, noncon, voyerisum, exhibistionism, blood mention lol. Idk groping?

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4FeWr4OsidcJClBjUEBHWI?si=OPHwLWXrTsiNQ42SlMKLEg

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There is a point where you stop screaming.

A point when you realize that no one is coming to save you, that you’re wasting your breath, that it’s fruitless. Does nothing more than raw your throat and grate against your own ears.

It’s no use. The Barbarian King seems unaffected, perhaps even spurred on by your ear-splitting screams. There’s no reason to scream anymore - it’d be impossible to scream forever.

——

Village in flames, corpses littering the streets. You’d heard about the stench of death from books, from traveling warriors who stop in your village for a night, regaling the people with tales of heroics and strength. It smelled quite different from what you had imagined though.

Metallic, yes, but tangy, thick enough for you to taste the iron seeping into the ground. Raw, like the scent of the butcher’s shop, heavy and suffocating - you hadn’t been able to breathe.

Everything had happened so fast, too fast. People were dead, people were dying, people were killing and being killed. You had been running, trying to escape the stifling aroma of your village being drained, the barbarians running amok through the streets leeching out it’s lifeblood.

Then you had been falling, tripped up by a loose limb on the ground, a body still warm and rattling with it’s last breaths. Shocked by the vivid image of the gore underneath you, a man reaching for his severed arm, you hadn’t been able to catch yourself as you fell, a cry leaving your lips.

Darkness.

And then light as you slowly blinked to awareness, slumped on the ground. A line of prisoners, prizes from the raid. You were one of them, hands bound to your neck, ankles tied to the people on either side of you. Two men had come by after a while, a green haired man in dress similar to your own - perhaps a captured man from the village?

The other man was bare chested, as many of the barbarians were, gold and red paint swirled across his skin in intricate, sharp patterns. He looked fearsome, and he barked at the green haired man accompanying him who scribbled furiously onto paper at each utterance of the fearsome blonde man.

They seemed to be going down the lengthy line of prisoners, assigning them? Selecting them for something? You didn’t know, couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were numb, sealed off from the horrific event you had just experienced, safe within your cocoon of forced apathy.

And then the two men were in front of you, the blonde man silent as he stared you down, the green haired man with his pen poised, though he studied you also.

But they quickly moved on, the barbarian barking something at his companion, before striding to the next prisoner.

You had been untied from your fellow captives, led through the barbarian camp. Red tents, warm fires and laughter filled the space, bare-chested warriors of both genders celebrating their recent victory.

The large red tent you had been led to was warm, a fire crackling in the deep pit in the center, silky furs softening the harshness of the ground. There was a table in front of the fire, a large basin filled with water nearby, close to the fire. A desk in the corner, near the tent flap, and a folding screen hiding the back of the tent from view.

Promptly tied to the leg of a table, you were left alone, the woman who had dragged you here leaving before you could ask what was happening.

Shortly, green hair popped through the tent flap, quickly followed by the rest of the man from earlier, the one dressed like your people.

“Izuku Midoriya!” He had introduced himself, giving a little flourish as he bowed, before being pushed aside as the fearsome blonde from before entered the tent.

Still tied to the leg of the table, numb to the world, you merely stared at the ground when the two men approached.

“What’s your name?” The green haired man - Izuku - asked.

He was met with a blank stare.

The blonde man growled at your lack of answer, spitting something in his native tongue, words you didn’t understand. Izuku seemed to shrink, before turning to address you again.

“Please tell us your name. Kacchan is not the most patient man.”

The fearsome man beside him bared his teeth towards you, and you shrank back. He did not seem the type of person who tolerated being left waiting.

“(Y/N)….” You whispered, eyes falling to the ground.

“(Y/N), ah! Such an interesting name, the first part means-“ Izuku was cut off from his ramble with a shove from the blond man - Kacchan - who crouched down in front of you, rolling your name around his tongue.

Turning, he spoke to Izuku in the same jumbled language, who listened, then addressed you as Kacchan turned back to study you again.

“Kacchan would like to know uhm, uuh.....” Izuku trailed off, uncertain eyes flickering between you and the blonde.

Kacchan scoffed, listening to Izuku’s hesitancy with disdain, saying something directed at the younger man, yet Kacchan’s eyes were fixed on you the entire time. It was intimidating.

“He uh, wants to know ifyou’reavirgin.”

Oh god.

Even though the man’s words were rushed, you understood, limbs beginning to shake. You were going to be violated.

A finger poking your calf made you jump, the blonde man leering at you, head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised as if to say “Well?”

You shook your head - lovers had existed in your life, not many, but you still cherished each one deeply, thought back on the experiences you shared fondly.

When relayed this information, the blonde man seemed to grin even wider, rising to his feet. “This will be easier then, no need to go slow.”

With a gasp, you lifted your gaze, wide eyes taking in the man hovering above you. His words were completely forgotten as you took in the shock of understanding his words. He spoke your tongue? Wasn’t he using an interpreter? Why-?

The confusion must be apparent on your face, because Kacchan scoffed, turning to stride to the table, taking a seat facing the fire.

“It pays to play dumb.”

“Loose lipped locals give information more freely when they assume that Kacchan can’t understand them.” Izuku beamed, crouching down in the Barbarian’s previous place to begin untying the rope binding your hands and feet to the table leg.

“Stand up for me please.”

You did as Izuku asked, shakily rising to your feet with a helping hand from Izuku on your arm. He began leading you towards the basin nearby, Kacchan watching the two of you with sharp eyes.

“Do you need help with the fastenings?” Giving Izuku a confused look, your eyes fell to the basin, to the fire, to Kacchan seated at the table. Were they going…. Were they going to boil you alive? Eat you?

Trembling even harder now, it was only Izuku’s surprisingly strong grip on your arm that kept you upright, knees giving out beneath you.

“Help her out, she’s damn near useless.” Kacchan’s strong voice cut through the air, the air that seemed too thick, the air that was choking you, throat closing up.

What does one even do in this situation? Do you beg for your life? Scream for help? Who would come? Accept your inevitable fate?

There was no time to make a decision, however, because Izuku’s nimble fingers were pulling at the fastening of your dress, quickly unlacing it.

You were numb again, fingers leaden, legs heavy, mind fuzzy and listless. Izuku peeled down the top of your dress, and you barely thought to cover yourself - you’d be dead in minutes anyways, what did it matter?

Still, your hands rose to your breasts, shielding them from view involuntarily. Kacchan snorted from his sweat, but said nothing.

When you were completely bare, an arm over your chest, a hand over your sex, Izuku ushered you towards the basin, prompting you to step into it.

This was it, you were going to die.

One last shot of fear raced up your spine, and you turned to the green haired man by your side, his hand falling away from the small of your back. “Please, please don’t kill me, I don’t know what I did but please spare my life. Please, I’m sorry.”  Tears were burning your vision, throat choked up with thickness.

Kacchan burst into laughter. “I’m not gonna kill you, the fuck?! Goddamn, your people call us barbarians yet you’re afraid of a bath, fucking hypocrites.” There was a mirthful glint in his eyes when you looked at him, the man leaning back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he relaxed.

Izuku chuckled also, putting his hand on your lower back again, gently pushing you towards the basin. “You’ll be okay, it’s just some warm water. It’s close to the fire because we don’t want you to catch a chill. You know, the human body actually operates best when it’s within the temperatures of-“

“Deku, shut your trap before I come kick your ass, just get the girl into the water, you dumb fuck.”

The water was warm, and it felt pleasant against your skin, just on the right side of too warm, hot enough to have you relaxing your shoulders as you sank down lower, the liquid covering you up to your neck.

Izuku-Deku? Held your hair out of the way, quickly using a scoop to wet down the strands before rubbing some kind of herbal scrub through your scalp, cleaning out the dirt and debris that had gathered during the raid. You were certain you were absolutely filthy, covered in mud and small scraps, half of your side crusted with dried blood and muck from falling in the bloody street.

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at your earlier panic, silly and like a stupid child, thinking that they were going to boil and eat you. It was clear now what their intent had been, but riddled with fear your thoughts had been clouded and slow.

Fear was still present, rolling through your brain in waves, goosebumps rising from your flesh as you tried to hypothesize what was going to happen to you. From their earlier questioning, you had a faint idea, but you couldn’t bear to think about that outcome, didn’t know if you could tolerate it.

Instead, you let the warm water soothe your body, washing away the grime and dust. Izuku’s hands were gentle in your hair, as he massaged your scalp, as he rinsed out the soap. You tried to ignore how his breath hitched whenever you shifted - you couldn’t keep all of your body covered, no matter how you positioned yourself.

His hands disappeared from your hair, instead prompting your to sit up straight so he could scrub at your body with a cloth smelling of the herbal soap.

It felt weird, and goosebumps arose on your skin as strange hands touched your body. You closed your eyes and endured, for there was nothing else that could be done.

Running would be a bad idea - a naked woman sprinting through the barbarian camp would surely be caught and violated, or brought back to this tent for some twisted punishment. And you could only run if you managed to get past the two men, who ere watching you like hawks, and much, much stronger than you.

Izuku’s hands paused briefly at your chest, eyes flickering over to the blonde man, who nodded in permission. Then Izuku’s hand were running the cloth across your breasts, washing them in gentle circular motions, taking care to not scrub too hard or push too deep.

You bit your tongue as you waited for it to be over.

And it was soon, at least that part. Then the green haired man was instructing you up on your knees, facing him. Telling you to grab onto his shoulder (the man was also kneeling) and spread your legs apart.

Trembling limbs obeyed, face flushing bright red as you followed his commands, eyes squeezing shut so you wouldn’t have to look at his own flushed face.

He ran the cloth down your back, over your ass, then slipped it between your legs to wash your sex with easy swipes of the cloth. The man’s breathing picked up subtly, and you could tell, leaning up against him as you were. His hands wandered, the cloth moving slower and slower upon your cunt, almost stroking at your folds, his fingers pressing through the cloth.

“Oi, Deku! Keep your shitty hands to yourself, you’re supposed to be washing her up, not feeling her up, shitbrain.” Kacchan barked, slamming his fist down against the table to get Izuku’s attention.

Both you and the man in front of you jumped, Izuku immediately blushing the deepest red you’d ever seen, flashing the blonde an apologetic look and you a nervous smile, before he seemed to gather himself, continuing to dutifully cleanse your nether regions.

It was awkward for the both of you, feeling his hands run over your private areas, over your sex, through your ass cheeks. But then he was down, rinsing you off with scoops of warm water before fetching a large towel, ushering you out of the basin, holding out the towel to wrap around your body when you stepped out.

Then you were ushered closer to the fire, sat upon a small stool as you huddled close to the warmth, clutching the towel tightly around you. The air was quite warmer than outside, but was still cold to your wet skin.

Izuku began running his fingers through your hair, parting knots, patting sections dry with a corner of the towel. By the time he was finished, you felt warm again, face rosy from the heat of the fire.

The heat felt pleasant, like the feeling of a full belly after a long day.

You were tired, exhausted from the emotional weight you had endured. Village burned, tripping over corpses and disembodied limbs, taken captive, forced away from your fellow villagers.  Stripped down and fondled - at this point, you just wanted to sleep.

To sleep and sleep, wake up and have this all be a bad dream. Some twisted nightmare your mind conjured up while in the warmth and safety of your own home.

A large hand upon your shoulder roused you from your half-asleep state, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the quietness of the tent. You jumped, turning to find Kacchan towering over you and Izuku both.

Kacchan crouched, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hair, then onto your cheek. “You look so fuckin’ weird.”

Izuku sputtered. “Oh my god, what he means to say, is that we’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re… quite unique, and very um, attractive.”

You leaned away from the hand on your cheek, and Kacchan let you, red eyes blinking slowly as they scanned your features.  He was an odd man, as was Izuku. There was an obvious dynamic of power, Izuku submitting to Kacchan willingly.

“Alright, you’re dry enough, get up.” You blinked at Kacchan, processing his words, before he huffed out a breath, rising to his own feet. “C’mon, let’s go, are you stupid? Get the fuck up.”

You scrambled to your feet, towel still wrapped tightly around your body, preserving your modesty.

Kacchan’s hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you along with him as he strode towards the back of the tent, towards the sectioned screen acting as a wall.

“Deku, make your ass useful and dump out the bathwater, will ya?”

You weren’t able to see Izuku move due to the hand forcing your head forward, but you could hear his footsteps as he hurried to do what Kacchan instructed.

Rounding the screen, it was clear to see that this was where the Barbarian King slept, a pile of cozy-looking furs strewn in a pile on the ground.

You were promptly shoved towards them, stumbling down to your knees as you lost your balance. The furs provided cushion though, soft and inviting.

But you were scared again.

It was happening, it was going to happen, you were going to raped by the King.

Turning back towards the man, you began to plead, hands securing the towel around your shoulders like a safety blanket. “Sir, please, don’t do this, why me? You can have anyone, not me, please not me.”

He ignored you in favor of beginning to strip, unfastening his cloak, removing his weapons. You decided to try and appeal using a more personal approach.

“Kacchan-“

Suddenly the man was in your face, his own visage twisted into a growl.

“Don’t you ever fucking call me that. Stupid ass Deku made that shit up when we were kids, I’m not some brat anymore. I’m Katsuki-“ He backed away from you, leaving you trembling. “-Barbarian King.”

The man resumed removing his clothes, dropping his belt to the ground, grumbling as he began to undo his pants. “Should beat his fuckin’ ass for calling me that, so goddamn disrespectful. Fuck him, stupid little ass wipe twerp-“

You tuned him out, frozen. What could you do? Another impasse where your options were none.

A strong hand gripped your shoulder, or more accurately, your towel, tugging it forcefully away from you.

“No!” You cried, trying to pull it back, to cover yourself, but the man was stronger, ripping it away before you could utter another word.

“No! Stop, please!” You tried again, finally taking in Kacc-Katsuki before you. He was naked now, aside from the paint decorating his skin. His cock was quickly hardening, plumping up with each step he took towards you as you scrambled backwards.

“Katsuk-Katsuki, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything! Please just have someone else!” You sobbed, back finally meeting the wall of the tent.

Katsuki smirked, crouching down just out of your reach. “You’ll do anything? You’ll let my horde use you as a toy then?”

Dread flowed through your already fear-filled body, and you gulped thickly, eyes closing.

“No?”

Shaking your head, you started to cry silently, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“You’re already doing fucking anything.” Katsuki growled, hand shooting out to grab your ankle, dragging you down and towards him.

A high-pitched cry left you as he pulled you under him, until he was hovering over you, grinning. “Cry all you want, ain’t gonna change a damn thing. In fact-“ He surged down, until his forehead touched your own, red eyes blazing “-It just turns me on more.”

The man pulled away, a hand falling heavily around your throat, giving a compulsory squeeze before hie started moving his hand downwards, fingers skimming across your flesh.

Immediately, your own hands caught his own, trying to still their journey as they neared your breasts. Katsuki paused, a sound akin to a growl falling from his throat as his eyes flickered away from your body and up to your own eyes.

There was a threat there, a warning. Let him touch, or else. Trembling, you removed your hands, instead grabbing at the furs you rested upon. Katsuki made a gruff sound of approval, before resuming his exploration of your body.

“You’re like nothing I’vs ever seen before, know that? Like some fuckin’ alien or something, but damn, you’re gorgeous. Didn’t even know someone could look like this.” He mused, entranced as he watched his hands splay over your body, pinching at your skin, caressing your breasts, slipping over your stomach and down between your legs.

“Oh god, pleaseee-“ You sobbed out, cringing as a finger trailed down your slit.

Katsuki stilled, quirking a brow as he smiled meanly. “Please what? You wanna cum?”

“Please stop…” You whispered, eyes clenching shut again as he found your clit, giving it a few quick rubs.

The man scoffed, before quickly teasing one of his fingers into your tight hole. “Tough shit, I’ve never had whatever the fuck you are, I ain’t stopping”

His finger burned, dry and too large, and you struggled to keep from clenching down upon it in discomfort, trying to force out the intrusion. This would go easier if you relaxed, if you let him have his way. You knew that, rationally, but it was hard to make you body obey.

Katsuki prepped you quickly, fingering you open until he deemed you ready, withdrawing his fingers and crudely wiping them off upon your thigh. You twitched away at the wetness, at your own slick being cleaned off  on your skin, but Katsuki ignored you.

“Why do you look like this anyway? What the fuck happened?” Katsuki asked coarsely, shuffling off of your thighs, moving to lounge by your side, studying you.

The man seemed to be taking a break, more interested in your looks than fucking you, but you were glad for the reprieve, trying to wipe tears from your face as you struggled to think of a response.

“I-I don’t know?” You finally spoke, genuinely at a loss for how to explain your appearance.

Katsuki studied you with sharp eyes, a hand reaching down to his cock, beginning to absent-mildly pump himself while he looked you over.

“I’ve traveled through every shitty little village in the north, met with the damn piss-baby tribes of the east, I’ve ransacked the towns of spoiled nobles, and I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you.”

You sat up, subtly shuffling away from the Barbarian King while you shrugged, at a loss.

Your appearance wasn’t anything superiorly unusual, but apparently it piqued Katsuki’s interest. Yes, your skin was perhaps a bit different, but it’s not like you were inhuman.

Katuski seemed to get tired of talking though, settling further back into the furs, getting himself comfortable as he jerked himself off. You refused to look between his legs.

“Alright, whatever. Get up here.”

Pausing, you looked at him incredulously. Did he mean on his lap? His chest? You didn’t want to be anywhere near him - wouldn’t he find more pleasure with someone who was willing?

“Are you fucking deaf? C’mon, up.” He growled, patting his thigh, urging you over.

A gulp before you started moving, limbs heavy and hesitant, unwilling as you slowly crawled forward, towards the intimidating, impatient blonde.

You straddled his thighs unsteadily, swinging your leg over, trying to avoid touching his cock.

Unfortunately, despite your best efforts, you caught sight of it, the red tip, the precum making his length shine, the wrinkly, darker skin of his balls, his blond pubes.

You cringed, distaste evident upon your face, and you heard Katsuki chuckle darkly before his hands grabbed your hips, dragging you forward.

“What, don’t fucking like what you see? Am I not to your taste? I’ve fucked whorebag princesses less fussy than you. Get over yourself.” He spat, before taking a hand off your hip, reaching underneath you to line himself up as his other hand kept you lifted.

You trembled in his hold, twitching and swaying to the side, but this was unavoidable.

A gasp left your lips as he entered you, tip slipping through your folds, teasing into your wet hole, stretching you out.

Katsuki let out a groan, slowly dropping you down until he could remove his hand from his cock, returning it to your hip, guiding you to push further down. You felt disgusting, his cock sliding against your velvety insides, dirtying your walls with leaking precum.

When your sit bones rested against his upper thighs, his cock resting fully inside you, it felt impossible to breathe, your chest rising to draw in air but failing, the distress you felt upon being speared open seemingly too much for your body to handle.

“Fucking hell, you’re so tight. You got a dirty little cunt, don’t you? Feels fucking amazing.” Katsuki groaned, moving his hips minutely, relishing the grip your inside had on his cock, how warm you were around him.

“Ride me, will you? I’m getting bored down here.” He snapped after a moment, delivering a harsh slap to your rear to emphasize his words, spurring you into tentative action.

Problem is, you didn’t want to.

Your palms rested against his heated chest, eyes raising to the ceiling as your cheeks burned. This was embarrassing, you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t be an active participant in your violation. What would that make you?

“Oi, princess - I don’t got all night.“ Katsuki growled, landing a significantly more-jarring hit to rear, hard enough to make you squeak and jump, hips twitching at the sensation of his cock moving around your pussy at the movement.

Afraid of more forceful repercussions, you started to move, slowly sliding up, then down, creeping along, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy the man.

It wasn’t.

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, before tightening his hold on your hips, planting his feet in the furs, then plunging into you with force. The sudden movement jostled you, and you fell forward with a cry, head bouncing onto Katsuki’s chest by your hands, the man groaning as he found a satisfactory rhythm.

“There we go, that’s fuckin’ nice.”

You cried into his chest, hands clutched into fists as you were bounced up and down, the led slap of skin too loud and jarring in the tent. The paint on Katsuki’s body was beginning to smear, sweat dampening his skin and letting the paint drip onto the ground, transfer to your own skin.

It was starting to feel good, make your stomach tighten, limbs tremble with pleasure instead of fear, and you hated it.

Slick sounds reached your ears, out of rhythm with Katsuki’s quick prods. It was wet, pulsing, as if someone-

Gasping breaths reached your ears, not from the man grunting beneath you.

Another round of cold fear dampened your arousal as you honed in on the sound, realizing it was coming from the other side of the screen.

Someone was on the other side of the screen, listening in to the Barbarian King taking you against your will.

A stuttered cry left you when Katsuki pushed too hard, hitting your sweet spot, making you clench and shudder, forgetting about the other person for a second.

But they were so loud, little gasps and moans, and the shlick, shlick, shlick, was getting faster and faster, it was impossible to ignore.

Should you try to tell Katsuki? Would he stop? Would he be mad? It was so disturbing, knowing someone was sitting on the other side of the screen,  jerking themselves off so obviously .

“Katsuki-Katsuki wait, oh-“ You started, quickly cut off by a series of battering thrusts against your sweet spot.

But you had to try again. “Wait, sto-o-op, wa-unh, unh, Katsuki pl-mmh!”

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care.” The man snapped, out of breath.

“But there’s-oh…. Katsuki there’s someo-“

“I don’t /fucking care/.” Katsuki reiterated, gritting his teeth. He shut you up with another perfectly placed push against your sweet spot, and a cruel spank against your already-stinging ass.

“Ow!” You yelped, clenching up.  It was clear now, that Katsuki was aware of the listener, he just didn’t mind. Maybe he got off on it, knowing someone was listening to him take apart his latest conquest.

Clenching up was the wrong response, because the Barbarian King swore, before his hips sped up, bouncing you so violently on his lap that you found it hard to breath, barely able to hang on for the ride.

“Oh…. (Y/N)….” The voice behind the screen moaned lowly, almost whispering.

It was Izuku.

You shivered, at the sound, feeling creeped out with the knowledge that the gentle, timid “interpreter” was listening. He must have returned at some point from dumping out the basin. You were feeling revolted by this entire situation, disgusted with Katsuki, Izuku, and most importantly with yourself.

Pleasure was building quickly in your stomach, zapping up into your chest, making you tingle and shake with the sensations assaulting your body.

“Sit back, fucking sit back-“ Katsuki panted, pushing at one of your shoulders to push you up, so he could see you as he fucked up into you, watch your body move, your face contorting in pleasure.

You felt like you couldn’t help it, your eyes closing, mouth falling open to let out girlish, high-pitched moans.

Your breasts were being jostled, jiggling up and down with the movement of your body, and it hurt. Hands moved to hold them, stopping their bouncing, but Katsuki appreciated the view apparently, because he groaned, pushing his head back while still trying to watch you.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Keep touching yourself princess, keep moaning like a little slut. Let Deku know how fucking good I’m making you feel.”

Your body didn’t give you a choice, noises being pushed from your throat involuntarily as Katsuki pounded into you, red eyes trained on your frame, intense and unwavering.

An orgasm ripped through you, seemingly out of nowhere despite the steady buildup of it the past few minutes. You gasped, breathing catching in your throat, hips furiously grinding down against Katsuki’s as you rode it out, trying to stimulate your clit to intensify the feeling.

The noises leaving you were perverted; wet gasps, little squeaks and long moans as you fucked yourself onto Katsuki’s cock, previous hesitance forgotten in preference of chasing your pleasure.

Katsuki swore underneath you again, rabbiting his hips up into you in response, breathing raggedly as he neared his own release.

You were so lost in feeling the sensations in your own body, you didn’t register the stuttered groans on the other side of the screen, the speedy clicking of Izuku jerking himself through his own orgasm, the almost-silent spatter of his cum hitting the screen.

Katsuki swore once more, a vehement “Shit, shit!” before he pulled out quickly, orgasm apparently catching him by surprise, the first few warm strings of cum shooting into your warm cunt, adding to the wet mess of your own orgasm.

The rest was aimed onto the puffy lips of your slit, one of Katsuki’s hands leaving your hips to pump his cock as he gasped, hips twitching upward at the sudden temperature change from your burning heat to the air of the tent.

Then there was just the sound of three people breathing heavily, completely spent, sweaty and dirtied from sex.

Katsuki pulled you down onto his chest, chuckling breathlessly as he brought his clean hand to your head, ruffling your hair tiredly.

“Well, you’re a goddamn catch, pussy’s like a fuckin’ vice.” The crude comment made your cheeks color, but as exhausted as you were, you couldn’t find the energy to offer a rebuttal.

“I think you’re gonna stick around for a while.” Katsuki mused, and you felt your heart drop. “Yeah, you’re a keeper. Maybe if fuckface over there-“ The blond slapped at the screen “-can stop being a pervert, we could actually fuck without feeling creeped out.”  He growled, although the blonde didn’t sound irritated in the least.

A small “Sorry Kacchan” was whispered from the other side of the screen, and Katsuki laughed dryly.

“Tell you what bastard, maybe I’ll let you touch her a bit.” Katsuki said, a hand creeping down to knead at your ass. “Then you don’t have to act like a little freak. Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you fuck her if you do good translating those maps we found. Got it, you little shitnugget?”

“Mm, alright Kacchan.” Came the tired response.

You were barely awake, already drifting off on Katsuki’s warm chest, too preoccupied with the red and gold paint no doubt smearing against your cheek than with the conversation going on around you.

You could panic about that later.

[literaila]

a void on your side of the bed. 

loki x gn!reader 

summary: loki is feeling lonely. and guilty about that. 

here was the thing:

loki tried not to ask for too much. he tried to be the perfect partner, the perfect person just for you.

he didnt complain when you wanted to sleep in, or when he was supposed to make you breakfast (he enjoyed doing that). he wasnt upset when you asked him to ‘clean up’ around the house, or when you refused to buy him any more ice cream.

he tried to eliminate any problems-- never been done before by the god of mischief --he might cause before they even appeared, and tried to give you anything and everything you might want.

it wasnt a hard task, actually. he liked the feeling in his chest when you smiled at him, when you were grateful for his help or when he surprised you with something that made your life just a little bit better. he liked taking care of you, causing less trouble than before.

but. it was really hard not to complain when you werent paying attention to him.

when you needed space for just a bit too long for his liking. when he felt like an interruption every time he attempted to make any small talk with you, and you sighed-- almost reluctantly --before turning to him.

he knew you were busy, and he knew that you wanted to get as much work done as you could during the day. he just didnt like it.

he didnt like not conversing with you during the day, not cuddling with you on the couch during lunch while you snacked on something beside him. he didnt like leaving you alone until it was nine o’clock at night and you looked like you were contemplating murder.

he felt lonely. and he just missed you.

and, gods, he was really trying not to complain.

he was really trying not to make this a bigger struggle for you by stealing any of your time. he knew how hard you were working, knew that it drained all the life out of you by the end of the day, knew that the last thing you needed was him telling you that he was upset.

he was used to not sharing his emotions, to building up walls and keeping all his thoughts locked in. but usually, he didnt have to do that with you.

it was all looking up for loki when the week was coming to a slow end. friday night, he felt excited to get you back for at least two days, to steal all the time he could from you before you got annoyed of him. he got his usual smirk back when you came out of your office friday night, giving him a soft smile as you headed to the bedroom.

this was it, he knew. tomorrow morning, he wasnt going to let you leave bed until at least noon.

he fell asleep that night, arms tucked around you, lips smiling against your head, with thoughts of the next day filling his dreams.

so, when he woke up in the morning, colder than usual, a void where you were laying in his arms, it wasnt surprising that he was feeling more upset than before.

disappointment was a violent emotion.

still, he walked out of the room with some hope left, that maybe you were just drinking coffee and eating breakfast while you waited for him.

that hope disappeared when he heard the familiar click-clacking from the room you had proclaimed was your office.

you were working. again. and loki was alone. again.

he felt a groan building up in his chest, a terrible feeling filling him as he listened for your breathing. he knew it was madness to miss you this much when you were only a door away, but he wasnt used to spending days away from you.

he reminded himself that you were right there with a bitter laugh.

he was trying not to be angry or disappointed with you, he knew that it wasnt fair to put you at the end of the blame when you didnt even know how he was feeling and that it wasnt fair for him to want you to stay with him of every second of every day. to ask for so much.

he turned toward the bedroom again and tried to drown his emotions in reading.

it wasnt really working, but at least when he was this far away from you he didnt feel like you were ignoring him.

at around noon, after hours of re-reading the same chapter over and over again and illusioning himself as his brother and throwing a fake hammer around, he finally decided that you needed lunch, at least. he decided that bringing lunch was a perfectly acceptable thing for a significant other to do.

(and hopefully, it wouldnt annoy you too much)

“my love,” he called, knocking on the door. “i’ve brought you sustenance”

you replied a quick ‘come in!’ and loki put a smile on his face, walking in the room deviously and grinning down at you in your chair.

“thank you, loki,” you whispered, kissing his cheek when he leaned to place the plate on your desk, rubbing a hand down his arm when you looked back at the screen in front of you.

loki tried not to preen too much at the touch.

“how are you, love?” he asked, bending down to stare at the screen with you. he didnt understand anything about it, but it was still fun to pretend. to include himself with you.

“oh, tired,” was all you said as you leaned over to type something yet again. loki frowned at your words and focused his attention on your face instead.

you looked perfectly normal, perfect and normal, he supposed. your eyes were bright and your face was blank, but still, loki was worried over your words.

“maybe you could take a break for lunch then?” he asked, bringing a hand to your face and tracing your jawline with his thumb. he was trying to sound casual, to not let the hope that you might concede slip.

“i wish i could,” you sighed and looked over at him with a smile, taking the hand that was on your face and placing a gentle kiss on his palm. he froze under the attention. “thank you, sunshine, for lunch. i adore you,” you kissed him again, and turned away.

his hand was still in the air, left behind.

your words were sweet. exactly what loki wanted to hear, really, but he heard the unspoken dismissal of his presence. he knew this was your way of asking him to leave, even if you didnt realize it.

he wanted to plead with you to let him stay.

he stood up instead, not letting the sigh escape his lips in the room with you, and headed toward the door. he touched the doorknob, feeling all the emotions building up in his chest. making their way through his body like a stampede.

it was all very much for him. this disappointment that he could barely hide anymore. the loneliness he knew he had to return to in the other room.

before he realized it, the words were slipping from his lips.

“have i done something wrong?” his usual teasing tone was there, his usual indicator for dramatics, but when you looked at him the look on his face was much more serious than his tone.

you frowned immediately, and loki scolded himself. “quite the opposite really, sweets. you just brought me lunch?”

“right, of course.” he nodded to go, but you stopped him.

“is there something wrong, loki?” you were turned towards him completely, concern tainting both your face and your tone. loki felt terrible like he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

he tried to put on a smile. “no, darling.”

but you werent easy to trick, he knew, and you scowled at him. “loki.” you were staring at him with your intimidating eyes now, only slightly soft because you were worried. even to a god, it was scary.

reluctantly, he nodded. avoiding your eyes now.

“come sit, sunshine,” you said, gesturing to the couch next to your desk. loki could hear the concern more now, stronger. he winced and took a seat.

after a few moments of silence and loki looking at the wall with furrowed eyebrows, you spoke first. “whats wrong?”

he sighed, feeling silly. you were supposed to be working and he was interrupting that with childish emotions that he could deal with himself. but still, he couldnt help but feel grateful at your asking.

“we havent been spending as much time together recently and..” he stopped, still avoiding his eyes to run a hand through his hair. “i suppose i’m feeling a bit..excluded? or maybe lonely?” he winced, sighed, looked like the perfect definition of regret. “i dont know” he said, almost silent.

but while loki was feeling ridiculous, you were looking upon him with something similar to horror in your eyes. terror at the thought of hurting him.

you were well aware that you’d been working more, the exhaustion every night made sure of it, but you hadnt realized that it was taking a toll on loki too, that he was... missing you while you were preoccupied.

you hadnt even considered it, really, when you longed to go watch a movie with him or have dinner together. your clinginess wasnt surprising, but loki?

he never seemed to mind space.

your brain took a few seconds to process it before you could speak again. “i’m so sorry, loki.” you were already pleading with him, begging for forgiveness.

how could you have disregarded him so much this week? you felt disgusted at the thought.

loki’s head snapped up in shock. he thought you might be tired with his admission, maybe even upset. not... regretful? he didnt expect to see this look on your face, one that was so disappointed, so loving.

“i didnt realize that you might be feeling lonely also, which is completely unthoughtful of me, i just thought that maybe-” you were gesturing with your hands, looking around the room rapidly as you used all your breath.

“you arent upset?” loki asked carefully, interrupting your rambling.

you paused, then blinked, looking at him curiously. he was serious, that much you could tell. he had that same frown on his face. you blinked again.

“upset?” you repeated, astounded. “why would i be upset?”

loki was just as confused as you now. he scratched his neck, looking down. “because i’m getting in the way of your work, interrupting you, being troublesome?” he said it as if he was trying to ring any bells in your head. he seemed sure of every word he spoke.

all you felt was more horror.

“your emotions are not interruptions or ‘troublesome’“ you mocked his accent, mostly with anger at yourself as you scowled at the floor. your words were harsh, but loki didnt flinch away. he still didnt understand.

“they aren’t?”

your eyes snapped up to his, guilt pouring from them. immediately, you jumped up from your chair, coming to sit next to him and taking his hand in yours. his face relaxed a bit at the feel of your touch. “of course they’re not, loki. if you’re upset i want to know. you and your feelings arent burdens on my day, i love you!” you promised him with strong eyes, with a strong grip on his hand.

it was probably the most important thing in the world to you that he knew this. that he didnt feel unwanted again.

“i love you too” he answered, quickly, before he even had the chance to think over your words.

he almost smiled when he did, proud of himself, of you, for seemingly no reason. you loved him.

it was nice to hear.

it was also nice to hear the softness in your voice, the sweet words, his name. it was nice to be sitting next to you.

he was hit was a sudden burst of longing, this time for something different.

he wished he would’ve talked to you days before, wished there was more he could do. if that had happened, he might’ve saved you both from some unwanted feelings. might’ve kept you from the sorrow that you still had on your face.

you were still upset, he knew.

“i’m sorry i’ve been so busy. that i havent spent enough time with you,” the words fell from your lips before you could stop them, despite the happy look on loki’s face. you still felt horrible, guilty for making loki feel anything but joy.

“its okay, darling, i know you have a lot of work to do.”

though his words were sweet, they only made you scoff.

“thats not an excuse.” you insisted, scowling again. “i havent been taking care of you,”

loki, who no longer felt disappointed or lonely, who was enjoying just the sound of your voice and feel of your skin, frowned with you. he didnt like the pain in your voice, the anger he could hear.

he really wasnt upset anymore, never upset with you, to begin with. he was only glad that you knew he’d missed you and that you seemed to feel the same. he was happy to see you away from your desk.

his brows furrowed.

then he smiled again, leaning in closer to you with an idea.

he lifted your face towards him with gentle fingers, admiring you before he spoke. “i know how i’d like you to make it up to me,” he said, smirking at you.

it was a familiar look. one you hadnt seen in far too many days.

“you do?” you asked him, forgetting your guilt for a moment while he stared at you.

he nodded, staring down at your lips. his damned smirk was glued to his face now, distracting you from anything besides him. “i rather think you’ll enjoy it..” he assured.

and then he kissed you, and guilt was the last thing on your mind.

the thing was: loki was already the perfect person for you.

*

[oreomonsterhunter]

Life Sucks

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Word Count: 10K (I know.....this was a surprise for me, too)

Genre: fluff, romantic comedy

Warnings: language (our characters have a tendency to curse, apparently)

Summary: Sunshine reader is in love with love, but hasn’t had much luck with it herself.  When she meets Minho, a self-proclaimed cynic and disbeliever of “true love”, she’s determined to change his life.  If she can’t find the love of her life, she’s going to try to find his.

This fic was inspired by a tag game once upon a time.  It was supposed to be a short drabble, but apparently I can’t hold back with Minho.  Tag game featured this specific Lee Know and just kinda spiraled from there lol

Nearing the end of January, winter sometimes seemed endless.  Yet when you stepped out into the morning chill, you were pleasantly surprised to find the snow banks melting a bit.  Your boots splashed through small puddles as you strode down the street, and you smiled softly at the lavender sky.  It was still early enough—for a Saturday—that the sidewalks weren’t too packed yet, so you indulged in a more leisurely walk than usual, dancing along to the music from your headphones.  You caught a few odd looks, but you simply smiled and waved at everyone you passed.  They could judge your happiness all they wanted, nothing could possibly spoil your day when it was off to such a good start—

“Shit,” you gasped, jumping back onto the curb as a car barrelled through a red light.  Had you been a second slower, you would’ve been a vehicular manslaughter case.  “Asshole,” you hollered after them, flipping two middle fingers in the air.

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose, attempting to banish the exasperation and get back into your music again.  More careful this time, you double checked both ways down the street before entering the crosswalk.

Unfortunately, your streak of bad luck continued.  Just as you hopped off the street, a truck passed by behind you, tires bumping through a pothole.  And with the recent snowmelt, this resulted in a spray of cold water hitting the backs of your legs.

You froze, mind stuttering as you tried to comprehend how the morning had taken such a turn, all within your first five minutes outside.  Pursing your lips, you twisted around to inspect the damage.  The dirty water might stain your jeans, but the most pressing matter was the cold and wet denim now plastered to your legs from your calves to the backs of your knees.  You bit your lip, contemplating just turning back and spending the whole day in your apartment.  Pajamas, a blanket, hot coffee and tea readily available.  Maybe a movie, just because you could.

Then you shook your head, determined to make the best of the day.  You wanted a cappuccino, dammit.  And chocolate babka from the cafe.  No homicidal drivers or puddles could stop you.  It was a Saturday, just past sunrise, and you had a whole day ahead of you.  No need to wallow a few minutes in.  And besides, who knew what would happen.

You set off for the cafe, determination heavy in each step.  You forced a smile back onto your lips, though it was thinner than before.  You switched to a different playlist so that your boots could thump the concrete in time.  And you breathed, spooling calmness back into yourself.

It was a Saturday.  You might meet the love of your life today.  And nothing could stop you from finding out.

The bell over the front door jingled merrily, and you softened a little further, relaxing into the familiar surroundings.  You hardly even noticed the damp denim chafing your legs as you skipped up to the counter.

Ruth, currently manning the register, chuckled as she rang up another customer.  “Well would you look at that, the sun came shining right in our front door,” she said.

“Good morning,” you giggled.  You waved to Jonathan, Ruth’s husband, in the back.  The couple had been running the little cafe and bakery for years, and you were a faithful customer, coming by at least once a week since you first moved to the neighborhood.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he called, hands busy kneading dough for what would doubtless become something delicious.  You hummed thoughtfully, considering the baked goods in the glass case before you.

“Your usual?”

You tapped a finger on your chin, “You know, the poppy seed muffins look awfully tempting.  I might just have to switch it up today.”

Ruth nodded, tapping on the register.  You handed over the requisite bills and she shooed you off, sliding the muffin over the counter.  “Go on now, a table opened up by the window, perfect spot.  I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you said, but Ruth was already fussing over the espresso machine.  Shaking your head, you weave through the maze of tables and chairs, dodging patrons on your way to the window seat.

You had your eyes on the prize, and you were only a few feet from the chair when you pulled up short.  A stranger, their back to you, plopped down in your chair.  You blinked, suddenly and painfully aware of your wet pants, the muffin growing cool in your hand, the fact that you could give up now and walk home but perhaps you’d just get hit by a car and never get a chance to enjoy your breakfast.  You sighed deeply, breathing out through your nose as you closed your eyes, seeking inner peace or something.

“Can I help you?”

The voice knocked you out of your momentary meditation, and you looked at the table thief in surprise.  He loosened the fluffy scarf around his neck before sliding his arms out of his winter coat.  A beret, of all things, tilted dangerously to the side before he adjusted it on his head.  He looked like some kind of absent-minded professor, but for the youthful features that peered up at you.  A sharp nose, tinted red from the cold, and a soft mouth.  Dark and depthless eyes, paired with high cheekbones and a cutting jawline.

You realized you were staring when he waved at you, eyes widened.  “Hello?”

“Um, sorry, I just,” you stammered, lost for words.

“Do you want to sit or something?”

You stopped again, mouth dropping open.  You checked the time—you had fifteen minutes or so, enough time for another table to open up.  “Uh, sure, if that’s ok with you.  I was hoping for a table, I’m meeting someone,” you said, beginning to ramble.

“No problem, I don’t need all this space, and I’ll head out soon,” he cut you off, raising one brow at you when you continued to stand there, rooted to the spot.

Ruth’s arrival with your cappuccino was what ultimately forced your hand.  You sat down, gratefully accepting the drink, your smile less shaky with a taste of the familiar.

“I didn’t think they did table service,” the stranger mused.

“They don’t, I just know the owners,” you shook your head, cutting yourself off when you saw his disinterest.  “Sorry, I should introduce myself,” you switched tacks, giving your name with a bright grin.  So what if it was forced?

The stranger looked at you, and his lips twitched in a shadow of a smirk.  “Minho,” he responded.

Silence fell, heavy and awkward, and you found yourself leaning forward desperately.  “So how’s your day so far?”

Minho snorted, reaching for his own drink—an iced americano, you guessed, despite it being the middle of winter.  “Probably better than yours.”

“What?” your brows furrowed in confusion.

He gestured to your legs with one hand.  “Unfortunate accident this morning?”

Your lips tightened, holding back a frown, “Puddles, you know.”

Minho sighed, sounding sympathetic now, rather than snarky.  “Yeah, life sucks, doesn’t it?”  And there was the sarcasm again.

“One or two bad things doesn’t mean life sucks,” you countered, sipping your coffee.  “I’m excited about the rest of the day, it’s not even eight in the morning!  And it’s the weekend, and it’s sunny and warm, and I have hot coffee and a delicious muffin, and the world is out there and ready to be enjoyed,” you finished, lips curling up as you looked out the window at the sunrise, the horizon flaming golden.

“Sounds like you’ve never had a job,” a harsh voice cut into your admiration.  Your smile faltered as you looked back at Minho.  You gaped at him, brain processing the way this soft-looking boy sounded like the king of cynics.  The last thing you expected from someone wearing a fuzzy beret and looking like a sly teddy bear was this blunt conversation.  “No one’s that excited when they have to work fifty plus hour weeks to pay the bills.  Trust fund baby?” he inquired, sipping calmly.

Yep, there was no fighting the frown now.  “No, and I don’t appreciate the judgement.  Why can’t I just be happy?”

Minho smirked, “Never said you can’t.  I just wanted to see if you had a personality beyond being Positive Polly.”

Your eyes flamed, but your phone buzzed, distracting you before you could smite the snarky boy.  You fumbled at your coat pocket, whipping out the device to check for a new message.  You slumped—just a spam email.

“Waiting for something important?” Minho asked, tilting his head.

You huffed, shoving the device back in your pocket.  “As a matter of fact, yes,” you sassed, tossing your hair over one shoulder.  “I’m waiting for a date.”

He hummed at you, expression unreadable.  “You’re too excited.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyeing the clock on the far wall of the cafe.

“You’re significantly early, watching the clock like a hawk, and they haven’t even texted you an update.”  He took a long sip.  “What time is your date anyway?  Eight in the morning?  They’re not coming.”

Your smile faltered again.  Damn him, why was a total stranger dimming your joy?  You shoved your chair back, even though no tables had opened up yet.  You’d wait by the counter and chat with Ruth.  Anything was better than this asshole.

Minho glanced over his shoulder, checking the clock himself.  “Five past, and still nothing,” he commented.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

A spark appeared in his eyes, and he grinned.  “Good to see you have some backbone,” he commented.

You could’ve sworn steam was coming out of your ears, but your phone vibrated again.  You checked the lock screen, seeing a new text pop up from Jay: hey I can’t make it.  You swiped on the message, but nothing followed it.  Seriously?  That was it?  No explanation, and not even a half-assed apology?

“Told you so.”

You spun to face Minho, glare renewed.  “And what makes you so sure of yourself and my date?” you demanded.

He snorted, “Life sucks; so does dating.  The only thing you’re guaranteed is disappointment.”

Your anger faded slightly as you watched the boy sip his iced coffee, his silhouette stark against the snow outside.  When you took a breath to get past your own mingled frustration—both at Jay and your new snarky companion—you saw the tense lines of his face.  You wondered what disappointment had left Minho so defensive.

“Alright, enlighten me,” you said, throwing yourself back in the chair.  This time, you settled in, sliding out of your coat and leaning forward with your coffee.  “Who broke your heart?”

A look of disgust slid over those pretty features.  “No one broke anything,” he scoffed, turning to the window and giving you another dose of his sharp profile.  You rested your chin on your hand thoughtfully, just watching him and waiting.  “Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered.  “You’re not my therapist.”

“But I am a perfectly kind stranger.  And strangers are the easiest people to talk to,” you said sunnily.

“And don’t sound so happy.”

“No can do, people call me Sunshine for a reason.”

Minho gave a long-suffering sigh.  “I’m not calling you that.”

Now you were the one with a cocky smirk, “Why, does it hurt your delicate masculinity?”

A beat of silence, and then, “One of my best friends is called Sunshine.”  Minho looked at you sharply.  “I’m not calling you that,” he said again.

You waved him off, oddly touched in spite of his gruff tone.  This human version of grumpy cat had a best friend named Sunshine?  Incredible, and surprisingly soft of him.  “Ok fine, no arguments from me.  Tell me about her.  Or him, whoever it is,” you stumbled over your words.

Minho didn’t seem to notice your blundering.  He stared somewhere beyond your shoulder, “No one broke my heart.”  Then his eyes focused on you again as he asserted, “I’ve just experienced enough to know better than to hope blindly.  The world isn’t looking out for you.”

Humming, you folded your arms as you considered his statements.  “Well, I believe in true love,” you started.

“Why am I not surprised?”  Minho groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I also believe in the power of positive thinking,” you continued as if he hadn’t spoken.  Ignoring his dramatic moaning, you steamrolled ahead.  “Yeah, my morning turned out pretty shitty, but if I just go crawl back in bed, I’ll have wasted a whole day over something as silly as wet jeans.”

“Wet jeans and being stood up.”

“And being stood up,” you allowed, gritting your teeth to maintain a smile.  “But if I let that stop me from living my life, then I’ve let the negative win.  If I go check out a new dating app or two and keep trying, one day I’ll have something good.”

Minho put his coffee down, resting one hand on the table as he met your eyes, gaze hard.  “Listen, nothing good comes out of a dating app.  You’re wasting your time.  And didn’t you say you hate doing that?”

You wanted to argue, but your friends had told you much of the same.  Minho was just less polite in his delivery.  But you hadn’t had any luck with real life men, either.  Case in point: your irritating argument with the perfectly attractive guy in front of you.  So that left apps, even if the pickings were regrettably slim.  And only growing slimmer, if the ghost date was any indication.  You didn’t have the guts to tell Minho that this wasn’t the first time you’d been stood up.

Then you had an idea.  Your grin widened, and Minho’s irritated expression faded into apprehension.  “Well if I’m doomed to never find love,” you started, batting your eyelashes teasingly.  “Why don’t I look for the love of your life instead?”

Minho blanched, recoiling with enough force that his chair rocked back on two legs.  “Yeah, no.  I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” you beamed at him.  “I’ve been a successful matchmaker for a bunch of my friends, too.  I’ve just had trouble finding my own love interest.”

“What is this, a rom com?” he hissed.

You clapped your hands, overcome with excitement for the first time since the puddle.  “Oh, a romance, I wish,” you nearly swooned at the thought.  “I promise I’ll do my best.  You’d get along great with one of my friends, they’re just as irritable as you.”

Minho exhaled sharply, massaging his forehead with one hand.  He closed his eyes, muttering, “What am I doing here?”

“Wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.  No matchmaking until I know you better,” you amended, whipping out a notebook and pen from your bag.  You had just about everything in there—you never knew what emergency might pop up, like brainstorming a match for a stranger.  “What are some of your hobbies?  Favorite color?  Ooh, what about first date activities you love?  Oh my goodness, wait, are you looking for men or women?”

Part of you expected Minho to shove his chair back and leave.  You wouldn’t be too upset, that just meant you’d have the table to yourself, even if you weren’t waiting on a date anymore.  But you didn’t totally hate this guy.  And another part of you kind of felt bad for him.  He’d never experienced love!  Not that you’d had a taste of true love, either, but you knew what was out there.  And it was a shame that he didn’t see that too.  It was like...someone hating your favorite holiday—unacceptable, if only because you wanted everyone to enjoy it as much as you did.

You begrudgingly admitted that another teeny tiny part of you thought he was too attractive to be so cynical of love.  Some lucky girl out there was waiting for Minho, and you were gonna help her out, even if it meant dragging the man kicking and screaming towards her.

But Minho didn’t do what you expected.  He didn’t storm off, coffee in hand, scarf flapping in the wind dramatically.  He sighed and stood up, but made no move for his coat.  “If we’re doing this, I need more coffee,” he said, then turned and made a beeline for the counter without any further explanation.

You blinked after him, more than a bit surprised.  He was...going along with this?  You tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, watching his shoulders flex beneath his turtleneck as he talked to Ruth.  His head turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his smile—a real one—taking your breath away.

Now, if only you could get him to smile like that for any potential dates.  You clicked your pen with renewed vigor, laughing when Minho approached with a new coffee, exasperation written into every line of his face.

* * * * *

It was a lovely Thursday night, and you were curled up on the couch in your comfiest pajamas.  Your only companions were a blanket, a mug of tea, and your phone, which you checked every fifteen seconds.  The first time all week that Minho hadn’t answered your messages, and it was the night of his first date.  You were buzzing with anticipation, practically vibrating as you waited for news, not caring who it came from first.

Finally, you gave up waiting, throwing the blanket as you went to reheat your tea, since you’d let it grow cold while refreshing your messages.  The second you reached the kitchen, however, you heard a buzz.  You dashed to the couch, scrambling for your phone to find a text from Mari:

He had to dip early, lame date

You nearly screeched.  He left?  Your fingers pounded the screen:

What!?!?!! Did he say whyyy?

Mari’s response was short and to the point:

An “emergency”

You could read between the lines.  Mari was irritated, to say the least, since the blind date had been your brilliant idea.  But what on earth had happened with Minho?  Your stomach dropped, considering that he might have an actual emergency.  You quickly tapped out a message to him to check in, gnawing your lip in worry.

Hey, Mari said you had an emergency, is everything ok?

You waited what felt like ten thousand years before finally seeing the little bubbles appear.  His message, however, was not worth the wait:

Didn’t get on with her

You fumed, pressing dial on his contact with enough force, you were amazed your screen didn’t crack.  “You left because you didn’t like her?” you screeched as soon as he picked up.

“Yes.”

Gaping like a fish, you fumbled for words to explain how bad that was.  “You can’t just—”

“But I did,” Minho cut you off.

“But you can’t,” you said, exasperated.  “Jeez, I thought you knew what you were doing.  Obviously not.  You need a practice date or something so my friends don’t murder you.”

Now it was Minho’s turn to squawk indignantly.  “I do not need practice,” he started.

“Yes, obviously you do.  You might look like a player but you’ve obviously never talked to a girl for more than ten minutes,” you scolded him.  “Who leaves in the middle of a date?  With that bad of an excuse?”

“I hate wasting my time.  Didn’t we discuss how we should avoid doing that with our love lives,” he snarked.

You groaned, “There’s a difference between not wasting your time and being rude as heck.”

“So what?  She was abrasive, rude, cynical, and had a terrible sense of humor,” Minho said, as casually as if he was discussing the weather.  “I can’t believe you’re friends.”

“That’s a pretty great description of you, too,” you sassed back, irritation taking over.  “We might not be that close, but you can’t just insult everyone I set you up with.”

“Who said I wanted you to set me up with anyone?”

“I assumed you did, otherwise why are you going along with this?” you tried your best to calm down, lower your voice.  But something about Minho just put your back up.

“Uh,” Minho actually seemed lost for words.  Your ears perked up, eager to catch his answer.  “My mom wants to set me up with her friends’ daughters,” he tossed out at last.

Seemed a bit too easy.  “Sure,” you drawled, leaning back on the couch.

“Yes, really,” he sneered, and you giggled, picturing the exact expression on his face.

“Ok, whatever you say,” you allowed, laughing slightly.  “But you’re still going on a practice date.  Tomorrow night, six o’clock.  Meet me at the cafe.  If you’re not there, I’m gonna find your mom and help her out.”

You hung up on him before he could argue with you, grinning madly as you concocted your plan.

* * * * *

You half expected to wait for Minho to show up, much like your friend did, but much to your surprise, he was waiting for you under the awning when you arrived.  “You’re late,” Minho accused, and you grinned sheepishly.  You may or may not have lied about the time.  Just in case.

“The queen is never late.  Everyone else is simply early,” you quipped.  Minho rolled his eyes—absolutely what you expected.  You giggled, linking your arm through his and tugging him down the sidewalk with you.

“Woah,” Minho yanked at his arm, trying to free himself.  “If you wanted to hold hands, you could have asked.”

“You’re too much of a grinch, you’d just say no.”

“Exactly.  It’s called consent, sweetheart.”

He nearly fell at the sudden freedom when you released him, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets to escape the chill.  “Alright, follow me then, you unromantic dork.”  He muttered under his breath as you skipped away, having fun despite his attitude.  Time to show him what a real date looked like.

Five seconds later, and not even two blocks from the cafe, Minho groaned, “Are we there yet?”

“No.”

A pause, then, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” you told him, not for the first time.  He’d texted you all night, demanding to know, but your lips were sealed.

Except a certain someone seemed determined to annoy the answers out of you.  “Are we there yet?”

You sighed, your skip feeling a little less peppy.  “No.”

“Are we—”

“Minho,” you ground out.  “If you ask me that one more time, I’m taking you to get your nails done.”

“Ok, sure.  I could use a bit of pampering,” he said, the epitome of casual.

You stared at him.  “This feels like a trick,” you said slowly.

A grin flashed, “That’s because it is.  It’s after six, they’re all closed by now.”  But then he frowned slightly.  “Now you have me wanting a manicure though, I’ve never gotten one.”

Your brows were practically in your hairline but you just nodded.  “Ok, another time, then,” you agreed.  You caught sight of a familiar street sign and quickened your steps.  “Almost there,” you were nearly vibrating in excitement.  You felt Minho’s eyes on you, your skin prickling with awareness, but you ignored him in favor of racing around the street corner.  And there it was—the zoo!  All lit up...all lit…...not lit up at all.  Your feet stumbled to a halt.

“So the zoo is open at night now?” Minho inquired at your shoulder.

You gaped at the dark expanse before you.  “But where are the lights?”  Because indeed, not a single light was on in the zoo.  You’d just visited, not too long ago, and they had been open for night visits, so guests could walk around and see the trees all lit up, and wave hello to a few animals in the enclosures.

“Lights?”

“The Christmas lights,” you cried out, frantic.  “They were up the last time I was here.”

“You mean a month ago?  For Christmas?  Back when it was still December?” Minho questioned you.  You nearly snapped back before you realized.  It was January.  February next week.  Of course the lights were down, what kind of idiot were you?

You groaned in defeat, slumping against the wall and sliding down to a crouch.  You threw your arms over your head.  “I don’t know what we’re going to do, then.  I’m sorry I made you walk all this way,” you mumbled into your knees, wishing you could disappear into the sidewalk.  Gosh, and you’d really dragged him along, hadn’t you?  He obviously hadn’t been that excited, and all of your mysterious “it’s a surprise” nonsense only made this a bigger disappointment.

“It’s a Friday night, things are still open, you know,” Minho pointed out.  “So what if you somehow forgot a whole month happened.  I forget the year sometimes.”

“What are you, an old man?” you tried to perk up, but the tease fell flat.

“I’m only twenty-two.  You must be ancient.”  You picked up your head to look at him.  A faint smile curled on his lips as he played along.

“Oh my gosh, I’m your noona.  If you’re a grandpa, then I’m practically in the grave,” you forced out a chuckle.

Minho’s smile grew, and he extended a hand.  “Come on, get up.  Night’s still young.”

For a moment, you simply stared at his hand.  Then you met his dark gaze, “You aren’t going to take advantage of this?  I thought you hated the whole practice date idea.”

He sighed, wiggling his fingers at you.  “I don’t hate spending time with you, alright?  Now get up or I’m leaving you here.”

Your mouth twitched, a true smile threatening to form, and not just a cover-up.  You slid your hand in his gratefully, and Minho pulled you to your feet with more strength than you thought he had.  You blinked at him, realizing he hadn’t let your hand go yet.  But the second his eyes followed your gaze, he dropped it, sliding his hands into his pants pockets instead.

“So where to?” Minho asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, remembering a pretty little outdoor skating rink, but the skies cracked open, interrupting you with a sudden deluge.  You gasped as the first fat raindrops splattered on your forehead, eyes widening before you made a mad dash for the nearest storefront, Minho already a few steps ahead of you.

You’d barely been in the rain for a minute, but the icy water had your teeth chattering already.  Had it been any colder, this would’ve been pretty snow.  Instead, you got an arctic firehose.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you peered down the street.  Beside you, Minho checked a weather app, hissing through his teeth.  “Looks like rain all night,” he muttered.

You groaned again, wanting to cry.  You’d completely messed up the evening, first with the lights, and now by not checking the weather.  You’d planned an outdoor date, why hadn’t you checked?

A hand brushed your shoulder lightly, barely detectable through your coat.  “Um, this might not be what you had planned, but my apartment is actually on this street.  Wanna just order pizza?”

Your first instinct was a vehement “no”, but you stopped that answer on the tip of your tongue.  Minho wasn’t one of the sleazy guys you’d gone out with in the past, the ones who’d thought an apartment invite was more than that.  Plus, this wasn’t a real date or anything.  It was a practice date, just pals, nothing crazy about that.  So why couldn’t you grab pizza at his place?  Especially with the monsoon and a long walk back to your own place.  And no umbrella.

You found yourself nodding, shivers wracking your body.  Minho’s teeth flashed in another fierce grin, “Alright, sweetheart, let’s make a run for it.  In three, two, one—”

The two of you raced down the slick sidewalks, dodging lampposts and puddles alike.  You skidded to a stop at one of the apartment buildings, nearly slamming into Minho’s back as he yanked the door open, and the two of you tumbled into the warm lobby.  Once out of the wet, Minho shook his head like a dog, water droplets spraying everywhere, and you shrieked, hands coming up to protect yourself.

“Sorry,” Minho laughed, not sounding apologetic in the least.  “I’m on the sixth floor, so we can take the elevator,” he said, pointing you in the right direction.

The ride up was awkward; the only sound was your jacket zipper rattling from the force of your shivers.  Minho unlocked the door to his apartment, waving a hand dramatically.  You stepped inside tentatively, toeing off your boots by the door.  You watched Minho follow suit, then pad over to a closet along one wall.  Your confusion abated when he emerged with towels, passing one to you with raised brows.  The two of you were still soaking wet, and you didn’t want to track rainwater all over his apartment.

Minho was already drying his head off one-handed.  When he stopped, letting the towel slip down to rest on his shoulders, you giggled at the sight of his hair.  He made a face, only adding to the comic effect of his hair standing on end.

“I know you drink coffee, but what about hot tea?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen while you continued to dab at your clothes.

You nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the space from where you stood in the entryway.  It was pretty minimal, not a ton of color or anything, but cozy.  Black couch, gray curtains, some photos on the wall.  Fairly tidy, but definitely nothing out of a magazine.  A meow at your feet interrupted your train of thought, and you looked down to coo at the cats that were slowly approaching.  “Well aren’t you gorgeous,” you complimented the bravest of the three, who nosed at your hand gingerly.

“Soonie, Doongi, and Dori,” Minho said, pointing at each cat in turn.  He leaned on the counter while waiting for the water to boil.

“They’re adorable,” you beamed at him.  “And much more friendly.”

“Hey,” he narrowed his eyes.  “I’m friendly.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed at him.  Your mirth was interrupted by a fierce shiver, reminding you that you might not be dripping wet, but your clothes were still icy cold.

Minho eyed you as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  “I have sweats you can borrow.”

You started to protest, but the next shudder of cold made you change your mind.  Besides, you didn’t want to get his furniture soaking wet.  So you nodded and waited while Minho disappeared into the bedroom.  You shuffled awkwardly to the kitchen, toes curling in your socks.

Minho reappeared.  “Here,” he said, voice gruff.  He pressed a pair of sweatpants into your hands, along with a fuzzy looking sweatshirt.  Your turtleneck wasn’t too wet, just a little damp along the neckline, but you slid the extra layer over your head gratefully.  Before you had to ask him, Minho pointed to a half-open door.  “The bathroom.  I’m going to get something dry on, too,” he added.

You smiled in relief, escaping to the small bathroom gratefully.  As soon as the door was shut, you were scrabbling at the soaking wet denim, peeling it down your legs.  You grimaced, not missing this experience at all after the last time.  Minho’s sweatpants were soft and oh so warm by comparison.  And fleece-lined, too.  You slung your jeans over the shower rod to dry, rolled the ankles of your borrowed pants—just enough so you wouldn’t be drowning in excess material—and went in search of that promised hot tea.

You found Minho on the phone in the kitchen.  When he noticed you, he waved you closer.  “Do you like anything on your pizza?” he asked.

“Um,” you scrambled to collect your thoughts.  “Cheese?”

Minho cracked a smile.  “Cheese it is then.  And peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, garlic, basil,” he rattled off what sounded like an entire grocery list.  When he noticed you staring, Minho raised his brows in confusion.  You shook your head with a small laugh, leaving him to it.  On the counter behind him, you found two mugs, tea bags already steeping.  You wrapped your cold fingers around one, humming in contentment.  Finally, the shivers stopped.

“Wanna watch a movie while we wait for pizza?” Minho asked, but then he froze, grimacing.  “Oh shit, sorry.  I mean, you can go home if you want.  I don’t mean to keep you if you don’t want to stay.  I have an umbrella, and you can keep the sweats I guess—”

“Sure how about a romance?” you interrupted him, grabbing your tea and making your way to the couch.  You plopped down, eyeing Minho, who was still stiff as a board by the counter.  You giggled at him, “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from Mr. Darcy.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor.  An indignant expression wiped away any trace of sheepishness, and he stomped over to find the remote.  “Yeah right,” he scoffed.  “I’m not watching a romance.”

“A romantic comedy then,” you decided, snatching the remote out of his hands.

He grabbed it back, lightning quick.  “Action.”

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly.  “Drama.  Fight me and I’ll demand a Hallmark movie.”

Minho smirked, “Fight me and I’ll make it a horror movie.”

You groaned in disgust, glaring at him.  “Ok, fine, let’s fight over it.  Rock, paper, scissors?”

He rolled his eyes, but ended up on the couch beside you, holding one fist out to meet yours.  “Best out of three,” he smirked.  “Get ready for a zombie fest.”

After a crushing defeat, Minho slumped on the couch, moaning dramatically when you selected Pride and Prejudice.  You giggled at the grumpy man beside you, and his similarity to Mr. Darcy.  Most notably their matching pouts.

To your surprise, Minho didn’t interrupt the movie once.  Sure, he grumbled at first, but when you snuck a peek at him after about half an hour, you caught him watching intently.

You’d seen the movie at least a dozen times by now, but you still couldn’t resist the pull, and your heart fluttered at the brush of hands the way it did every time.  Your breath caught at every interaction, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away to save your life.  Until the pizza arrived, at least.  You were about to press play, two slices at the ready, when Minho looked over at you.  “Why are you so in love with the idea of love?” he asked.

You gaped at him for a moment, taken aback.  “What?”

“Not just the movie, but real life,” he said, twisting to face you fully.  “Why are you so determined to find Mr. Right?  Or to set me up on the perfect date?”

“Don’t you want to find someone?” you questioned him, backing away from the question.  “You can’t possibly be putting up with me just to avoid your mom playing matchmaker.  I’m literally no better than that.”

He scoffed, “You haven’t met my mother.”

“Maybe I should team up with her.”

“Oh please no.”

You grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza.  “Oh please yes,” you teased.  “Two matchmakers are better than one.”

Minho shot you an unimpressed look.  “I told her I already have a girlfriend, but I felt bad lying to her, so I’m hanging out with you instead.”

You nearly choked on your pizza.  So you were a pity friend, great.  Or worse, you weren’t even real friends, you were just a convenient excuse to alleviate Minho’s guilt complex.  You set the slice back down, no longer hungry.

“Hey, you know I’m joking, right?  That was a joke.  I’m sarcastic all the time, remember?” Minho nudged you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Minho sighed, leaning over to bump his shoulder into yours.  “I might not love the matchmaking, or this dumb movie, but I guess I’m glad we bumped into each other so I could tell you to dump ghost boy from Tinder.”  You snorted, biting back a small smile.  Noticing this, Minho forged ahead, “And this better not be part of the act to get me to forget my first question, because you still haven’t answered.”

“Minho,” you whined.  “Why does it matter?”

“Pretend it’s girls night.  We’re practically having a sleepover, minus the nail polish and braids.  This is the part where we talk about boys,” he smirked.

“I hate you.”

“Do we need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You next?”

Your brows rose.  “I thought you didn’t like romance, how do you even know that movie?”

“.....No reason.  Now answer the question already,” he huffed.

You sighed, curling up on your end of the couch.  “I guess it’s just something I’m not good at, so I can’t help wanting it to fall in my lap,” you said.  “I can’t pull all nighters to find love, that’s not how it works.”

“Well no, studying isn’t the answer,” Minho agreed.

“My parents have the kind of love I want.  I’m not rosy-eyed or anything, I know it’s hard work and commitment.  But the friendship—that’s what I love the most.”

The two of you sat in silence for a little while, Minho chewing on your words.  And you mused on your recent attempts to find a partner.  Perhaps dating apps weren’t the way to go, you admitted.  Not to Minho, though.  He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Maybe,” Minho started.  “You should look for new friends instead of new boyfriends.”

“What do you think this is?” you laughed.  “I’ve been setting you up, not looking on Tinder or whatever for myself.”

“Good, you’ve wasted enough time on those trash apps already,” he groused.

You grinned at him, “So I guess you don’t want me to start looking for Bumble girls, huh?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

You giggled, but Minho pressed play on the movie before you could tease him any more.  To your surprise, he looked as interested in the ending as you were.  You doubted he was misty-eyed like you, though.

A yawn snuck up on you, and you glanced at the clock in surprise.  How had it gotten so late?  “I should probably be going,” you started.

“I’ll walk you home.  It’s late.”  Minho grabbed your dishes to bring to the sink, snatching them right out of your hands.  You blinked after him, then shrugged, making your way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, your jeans were still damp, but they’d be fine for the walk home.  You squeezed yourself back into the denim, emerging with the borrowed sweatpants.  “Laundry?” you asked, since Minho was busy with the dishes.

“Just inside the bedroom, next to the door,” he gestured with his chin, hands still sudsy.

You slid the sweatshirt off as well, placing both in the hamper by the door.  Despite your curiosity, you didn’t linger, but you caught a glimpse of an equally tidy bedroom.  And a large bed with dark sheets.  Why was your heart pounding?  Mr. Darcy hadn’t been that distracting.  You shook your head, hurrying out of the room.  Only then you came face-to-face with Minho, and you had to fight a blush.  What on earth was wrong with you?

The awkwardness continued, and you felt strange and itchy the whole walk home with Minho.  You were hyper aware of how close you were under the umbrella, of the way your elbows brushed every few steps.  Minho was surprisingly quiet, as well.  Ordinarily, he’d be making fun of you by now.

As you walked the last block together, you tilted your head to look at him.  “So tonight was a fail,” you said.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“The practice date?” you giggled at his expression.  “Total failure.”

Minho’s frown deepened, “I thought it was fun.  Even if you made me watch a period drama.”

“Oh no, it was wonderful, but the date part of it was a bust.  We need to do another, since tonight doesn’t count,” you told him, slowing to a stop in front of your building’s entrance.

“Well what does count?” Minho asked, exasperation dripping from his tone.

“Hmm, something in public.  No one ever does a private first date, and obviously that’s what you need the most help with,” you sassed.  “Maybe I’ll kick your ass in laser tag or something.”

“Maybe I should beat you in bowling,” Minho retorted.

You hummed, tapping a finger off your chin.  “You might be onto something, actually.  How about you come up with our next practice date.  That’s your homework.”

“Since when is this a class?  With homework assignments?” Minho demanded.

“Oh shut it, or I’m making profiles for you on every dating app I know.”

* * * * *

You looked over at Minho, suspicion tugging at you.  “So when you said you should beat me at bowling, did you mean it?”

“I’m going to try and win at whatever we do, I’m competitive like that,” Minho said, holding the door open for you.

“No, I mean, are you secretly a professional bowler or something?” you corrected, making your way towards the shoe rental.

Minho chuckled, “I doubt you’ll believe whatever I say.”

You opened your mouth to object, but decided he was right.  “You better not be hustling me,” you threatened, slapping cash down on the counter.

“Pay per game or pay per hour?” the attendant asked.

Minho cheekily slid a few bills beside yours.  “Best out of three?”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, watching as the attendant took his money instead of yours.

At least Minho looked just as goofy as you did.  The brightly colored bowling shoes looked very out of place against his “cool guy” outfit.  You’d already poked fun at him.  Who showed up to a date wearing sweats?  Not that he looked bad in them, but you had at least dressed up a bit.  Then again, you might not have worn a dress if you had known that bowling was on the agenda.  You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater dress, feeling a bit out of place as you looked at all of the other couples.  Jeans, slacks, more jeans...why had you decided to dress up?  You should’ve known Minho would pick something casual.

“Hey, you wanna go first, or should I?” Minho’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you shook the negativity away gratefully.

“You go ahead,” you called over to him, trying to find a smile.  What were you so worked up about?  It’s not like this was a real date.  You could have shown up in a potato sack if you wanted, you weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all Minho.  On that thought, maybe he had the better idea after all.  You eyed his sweatpants enviously.  You knew how comfy they were, and they’d doubtless be better than the tights you were terrified of ripping.

“Ok sweetheart, prepare for a thrashing,” Minho joked, selecting a bowling ball from the rack.

“You prepare for a thrashing,” you countered, despite knowing it was an empty threat.  You probably needed the bumpers if you wanted anything but gutter balls.  Then you caught sight of the names on the board.  “Did you seriously make my nickname ‘Loser’?  What are we, five?”

Minho smirked as he passed you.  “We’ve been over this, I’m a grandpa, you’ve got one foot in the grave.  Childish antics are beneath us,” he said with a laugh.

“So you’re ‘Lee Know’?” you inquired, curious about his chosen nickname.

Minho turned to face you, tilting his head.  “Yeah, that’s what my friends call me.”

“...Am I supposed to call you that?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?  Call me whatever you want.  Just not ‘asshole’,” he joked.  Your heart warmed, and a true smile found its way to your lips.  You watched as Minho wiggled a little, eyeing the pins at the end of the lane.  Then, to your utmost surprise, he turned around and rolled the ball between his legs.

“What?” you choked on a laugh, nearly falling over at the sight.  Minho backed up, and you both watched as the ball rolled down the lane, painfully slow.  It ended up knocking down half of the pins, much to your surprise.  Minho just looked proud as he picked up another ball.  Miracle of miracles, he wound up with a spare.

You had no words, didn’t even bother trying to explain how his technique had any sort of success.  Your own attempt was...pitiful by comparison.  Your form looked good, but both balls wound up in the gutter in a matter of seconds.

Minho didn’t waste the opportunity to gloat.  “Told you I’d beat you at bowling,” he said with a wink.

You grumbled, flopping down onto the bench next to him.  “I didn’t expect you to be successful at the toddler technique.”

“Give it a go, maybe we’ll change your nickname if you win,” he laughed, getting up for his turn.

Halfway through the game, you even tried the ‘toddler technique’.  This was also a fail, made worse with the mortifying realization that your underwear would be visible if you bent over too far.  When your attempt ended up in the gutter, you resolved to get bumpers for the next game.

But Minho had other plans.  You had just approached the lane when you felt a hand on your shoulder.  “Keep your wrist straight, you keep twisting it at the last second,” he said.

You turned to face him, finding him close behind you.  “Anything else, wise one?”

“Don’t overthink it,” he smiled at you.  This close, you could swear his eyes were twinkling.  “We can both go get bumpers next round, I need them almost as much as you.  I’m amazed at my own streak of luck tonight.”

“I’m terrible at bowling,” you whined, looking away from him.  Your cheeks felt warm.  Gosh, it was embarrassing to be this bad.

“We can go do something else, we don’t even need to finish this game, let alone all three.  As long as you’re having fun, I’m happy.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but looked away quickly.  He was watching you so intently, the flush burned hotter, threatening to run down your neck.  “I’m sorry you paid for so many games.  We can definitely finish them, it’s fine—”

“I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do,” Minho murmured.  You looked at him in surprise, surprised to hear him sounding sincere rather than snarky.  “Otherwise, I’d be a shitty friend, wouldn’t I?”

“Right, yeah.  An asshole friend,” you agreed, nearly stumbling over the words.

“Ok, I’ll let you focus on your first strike of the night.  Don’t overthink it,” he reminded you, walking back to the bench.

You nodded, ignoring the tight feeling in your stomach that reminded you of disappointment.  And you sank another one right into the gutter.

Minho’s solution to the bowling fiasco was consolation ice cream.  Somewhat surprising, since a part of you had expected him to gloat.  Instead, he talked about anything and everything but bowling, entertaining you while you both sat at the window of the local shop.  You simply watched him, enraptured.  He had hardly opened up at all to you at first.  Visiting his apartment felt like the first peek into the real Minho.  The happy memories captured in picture frames, the handmade mementos here and there on shelves, all hints as to the soft interior of your once-prickly friend.  Now he was regaling you with stories of his best friends—brothers, by the sound of it.  Loving rivalry, playful banter, sibling torment.  And the look on his face...pride.  He was proud of them, his family.

Then you paused, tilted your head to look at him anew.  When had Minho stopped being prickly?  Where was the cynical, negative, angsty boy you’d befriended, partly out of spite?  When had he stopped trying to hold you back with barbed wire edges?

When Minho caught your gaze, he lifted one brow, mouth twitching into a crooked smile.  “See something you like?” he sassed you.  But his remark was devoid of bitterness.  It wasn’t mocking, it was warm, inviting.  It was asking you to join in on the joke.

“Yeah,” you said softly.  Then you turned up the wattage on your smile, grinning widely at him.  “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Minho rolled his eyes at your antics, spinning his ice cream cone between his fingers.  But hidden behind your grin was more than a little truth.

* * * * *

You knocked on the door, stepping back tentatively.  You could hear raucous laughter on the other side, which would ordinarily have you curious, maybe a little excited to join in.  Not tonight.  Right now, standing in the hallway outside Minho’s apartment, you were nervous as hell.  And on top of it all, you were nearly an hour late, having dragged your feet the whole way there.

“Stop it, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, shifting from foot to foot.  It felt like meeting the parents, which was dumb.  Firstly, you and Minho were not dating.  Secondly, these were his best friends, not his parents.  And thirdly, you and Minho were good friends.  You had nothing to worry about.  Absolutely nothing.

Which was why you were currently worrying all over the place about meeting Minho’s best friends.  What if they hated you?  Or worse, what if they pitied you?  You thought you’d disappear into a crack in the earth if that happened.

Before you could spend too long contemplating your inevitable end, the door swung open, and a boy came rushing out at you.  You gasped, jumping back before he could run into you.

“Sorry, sorry, excuse me!” he blurted, skidding to a stop, then immediately taking off running down the hallway.

You blinked in confusion, but your eyes only widened when a second boy came barrelling out of the apartment after the first.  “Minho?”

Minho paused briefly, eyes alighting on your stiff figure.  “Hi!  Um, I need to take care of something, but I’ll be right back.  Go on in,” he waved at you, breaking into a jog, and then a sprint.

Immensely confused, you peered into the apartment, now that the door was wide open.  Now or never, you told yourself firmly.  Easing through the doorway, you caught sight of six more boys in various states of chaos.  Upon noticing your entrance, they all froze.  “Uh, hello there,” came a voice on your right.  You looked over to see two boys in the kitchen, appearing to be mid-struggle with a bag of popcorn.  “You must be Minho’s friend, he said you’d be coming.”

You gave a tiny wave, pasting on a sunshine smile.  “Hi guys, it’s nice to meet you, I think?  Should I be concerned about the escapee?”

Popcorn boy number two laughed, arms bulging as he ripped open the bag.  “Oh no, Hyunjin will be fine.  Minho hasn’t made him eat toilet paper in years, he’s above that now.”  You must have looked concerned, because the boy chuckled again, waving you off.  “It’s all empty threats with that one.  Mostly.  I’m Changbin, by the way.”

Popcorn boy number one stepped forward, extending a hand to shake.  “I’m Chan, and this is our menagerie of chaos.  Let me introduce you to everyone,” he offered.  You grinned at him, relieved.

By the time Minho returned, practically dragging Hyunjin with him, you were giggling on the couch with the rest of the boys, embroiled in a fierce MarioKart race.  With Hyunjin still trapped in a headlock, Minho paused to watch.  You just barely caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, too focused on staying on the track.  Jeongin had chosen Rainbow Road for your first match, and you were determined to crush them in the dust.  Even if it had been several years since you last played.

You watched as your character was knocked off the edge, a cry of dismay falling from your lips.  “Dang it, I wasn’t even in first place, what gives?”

Han grinned victoriously, only to cry out when he accidentally drove over the edge as well.  “Friends fall together?” he joked.

“You made me go ziplining.  Alone,” Minho said, announcing his presence at last.

“Uhhhh,” Han fumbled for an excuse.  “You love me anyway, though, right?”

Before Minho could retort, Seungmin stood up.  “You can play next, if you want,” he offered.

The rest of you blinked at him in surprise, before looking at his screen and realizing he’d already won the race.  Jeongin groaned dramatically, flailing on the couch as he came in second.  You and Han just gave up entirely, letting your characters fall off the track once more.  Meanwhile, Minho finally decided to release Hyunjin, and the blonde escaped to the other end of the couch, diving into a bowl of chips like nothing had happened.

Felix looked excited, so you tossed him your remote for the next round.  “I believe I was promised food,” you said, arching an eyebrow in Minho’s direction.

“I believe I told you to arrive at six,” he fired back, stalking towards you.  He finally stopped a foot away, looming over you.

You smirked at him, “What did I tell you on our first date?”

The room went silent, and you froze, realizing your mistake.  “You guys are dating and you didn’t tell us?” Han exclaimed, eyes wide.

Your mouth opened and closed, but you couldn’t seem to find any words.

“Oh yeah, real fancy dates, too.  We had dinner at the Eiffel tower last week,” Minho drawled.  “Isn’t that right, sugar plum?”  The cherry on top was when he reached out, lightly pinching your cheek.

A stranger might have mistaken his dry tone for sincerity, but everyone in the room knew Minho’s humor well.  Half of the group dissolved into giggles.  Changbin rolled his eyes and threw a pillow, but Minho caught it before it could smack into you.  “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Changbin joked.

“All those promises and no follow through,” Han clucked his tongue in mock-disapproval, then ducked when Minho tossed the pillow at him next.

Your cheeks threatened to catch on fire again.  The situation only worsened when you met Minho’s dark gaze, his eyes ensnaring you.  “So,” you threw out desperately, clapping your hands together.  “The food?  Or am I going to starve?  Not very boyfriend-like,” you tried to laugh.  The joke must have been convincing, because the boys merely chuckled, going back to their game.

Minho still hadn’t moved from where he stood over you.  Instead of moving back so you could get up, he extended a hand.  You bit your lip, teeth digging in, but you placed your hand in his rather than make a scene.  The last thing you wanted was more attention, especially with your cheeks warming up past their usual temperature.

Fortunately, he released you as soon as you regained your footing.  Your fingers flexed lightly, hand falling back to your side.  You kept your chin high as you followed Minho to the kitchen, ignoring the prickling feeling that the boys were still watching you.

“Pizza?” you blurted out, incredulous.  “Don’t you eat anything else?”

Minho snorted, leaning against the counter.  “For the record, I do know how to cook.”

You snooped in the fridge, disbelieving.  “Of course, all evidence points to you being a five star chef,” you said, casting a pointed look at the empty shelves within.

He chuckled, folding his arms while he watched you investigate.  “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was ask.”

You hummed, closing the refrigerator once more.  “I’m kinda afraid you’ll burn something, to be honest,” you teased, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and selecting a slice of now-cold pizza.  You popped the pizza in the microwave, then relaxed against the counter opposite Minho.  He was still watching you intently, and you frowned.  “What?  Do I have something on my face?” you asked him.

Minho shook his head wordlessly.  Self-consciousness took hold, and you looked down awkwardly, brushing your hair behind one ear.  “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said.  I totally didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I know,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile.

You tipped your chin again, unable to look at him for long.  Even if Minho seemed to forgive your blunder, you still couldn’t believe you’d blurted that out.  Your hair fell in front of your face again, and you let it, happy to hide behind the locks.

Then another pair of feet appeared a few inches from yours.  Plain black socks next to your patterned ones, covered in cartoon rainbows.  Then a butterfly touch along the side of your face, soft enough that you almost doubted the sensation.  You lifted your gaze, but this time, Minho’s eyes weren’t on yours.  Instead, his laser focus was directed on the hair he was gently situating behind your ear again.

You realized you had forgotten to breathe when he finally took a step back, and your lungs remembered to inflate.

“For the record, you’re right,” Minho said softly.  “The queen is never late.”

* * * * *

It was nearing midnight by the time Minho’s friends started leaving.  You eyed the clock, then went to grab your shoes as well.  “I better get going, I want to get home sometime before dawn,” you joked.

“How close do you live?  Are you taking the bus?” Chan asked, worry evident in his tone.

You waved him off, “I’m just a few blocks away, not too long of a walk.  Bus doesn’t run after ten or so, anyway.”

Chan frowned, but Minho cut him off before he could say anything.  “I was going to walk her home, it’s pretty late.”

That was a surprise to you, but seemed to alleviate Chan’s concern.  The others waved goodbye on their way out, Chan following them.  “Nice to meet you,” he said, shooting you a quick grin before closing the door behind him.

“You really don’t have to,” you started.

“I want to.  It’s late,” Minho reminded you.

“I didn’t argue last time, but I didn’t want to steal your umbrella.”  You narrowed your eyes at him.  “I’m not some little girl in need of protection.  It’s a perfectly safe neighborhood.”

Minho didn’t look up, busy tying his shoes.  “I like walking.”

“At midnight?”

“Any time of day, really.”

You rolled your eyes.  “Do you walk Jeongin home, too?”

“Sure did.  He moved in with Han, though, so I don’t anymore,” he said simply.  “You don’t have a roommate.  If no one’s there to make sure you get home safe, I want to walk with you.”

You gaped at him, unable to fault his logic.  And not really wanting to.  “Thanks,” you murmured, scuffing one shoe into the floor.

Minho stood up again, a crooked smile on his lips.  “Don’t mention it,” he said, snagging his keys.  “After you.”

Walking home with Minho, you were reminded of the first time.  Then, you’d been so awkward, quiet.  Unsure of yourself.  You’d been worried that you were some kind of pity friend at first, but after getting to know Minho, you knew that wasn’t the case.  And now that you’d grown comfortable around each other, you could hardly get him to shut up.  Even now, he was talking about his dance team’s newest choreo, his words running together from excitement.

You smiled, just listening.  This was all you really wanted, if you let yourself admit it.  The Tinder dates were just a shit attempt at finding someone to sit and listen to for hours.  You wanted movie nights and quiet mornings with someone who cared about you.  You wanted a cute little house and kids and a dog.  Maybe a cat.  Maybe three.

Shit.

You were so wrapped up in your realization that you didn’t realize you’d reached your apartment building until Minho snagged your elbow to pull you to a stop.  “This isn’t a midnight hike, where do you think you’re going?” he asked incredulously.

You laughed nervously, “Oh, sorry, I was pretty lost in thought.”

“Apparently.  Were you listening to a word I said?  Some friend you are,” he snorted.

Friend.  Right.  Your realization didn’t mean much.  Why were you surprised?  You hadn’t had luck in the romantic department in years, why would that change now?  Minho was your friend, and it was obvious that his opinion of you wasn’t going to change.  Why would it?  He was way out of your league.

Gosh, now you felt like a fool.  You’d really just daydreamed about a happily ever after with him.  Why did you ever bother getting your hopes up?  You were always bound for disappointment.  Hadn’t your crappy dates taught you anything?

Minho called your name, bringing you back down to reality.  “Sorry,” you muttered, fumbling in your bag to find your keys.

“Are you alright?” he asked.  Shoot, now he sounded concerned.

You pasted a sunny smile on your face, “Totally fine.  Thank you for walking me back.  I won’t keep you any longer.”

You turned away to walk up the steps, but the smile fell as soon as he was out of sight.  How were you only just coming to the realization that you were halfway—or perhaps all the way—in love with him?  His face was burned into your mind’s eye.  Brows furrowed in confusion, slight pout, and those damned eyes.  You’d probably been in love with his eyes from the beginning.

“I only agreed to let you play matchmaker so I could see you again.”

You stopped at the top of the steps, not quite believing your ears.  Turning slightly, you looked at Minho over your shoulder.

Once he had your attention, he continued, “I bailed on the date with your friend because I knew you’d yell at me.”

Lips parting in surprise, you turned to face him fully.  Minho put a foot on the first step, gaze locked on yours.  You weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you, but his mouth softened into a slight smile.

“I was going to do the classic move of teaching you to bowl, but I chickened out,” he said.  “I wish I hadn’t.”

“What are you...why are you telling me this?” you asked, fingers curling nervously.

He ascended another step, “You only smile like that when you’re sad.  When you start getting in your own head about what you deserve.”  Another step, “And I’m tired of hiding.”

Now he was only two steps away.  Close enough to touch, if you dared to reach out.  You didn’t.  “We’re friends,” you said, voice small.

“Yeah, we are,” he agreed.  Then he bit his lip, drawing your attention like bees to honey.  You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes firmly.  When you opened them, Minho was on the step just below you.  “Tell me to stop,” he said, voice low.  You didn’t.

Your breath stuttered to a stop, your whole body stilling at the electric shock of his lips on yours.  For a moment, you were frozen, utterly focused on the whisper of a touch.  Then Minho pulled away, and you could breathe again, gasping for air.  But you didn’t want it to be over.  Your eyes fluttered open, finding his dark gaze melting into you.

This time, you let yourself fall into him, ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said this was a fantasy.  He caught you, one arm wrapping around your waist, his other hand coming to your jawline.  He ascended that final step, pulling your body into his.  His lips were plush, a little dry.  Real.  Minho was here, warm under your fingertips.

His hand slid up into your hair, slowly enough to make you shiver.  You sighed into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your arms as his fingers gently tugged the strands.  And then his mouth opened beneath you, and you let yourself tumble into sensation, drowning in him.

You don’t know how long you kissed, but your heart was racing when you finally came up for air.  Minho panted, little breaths puffing against your lips.  He rested his forehead against yours, the weight somehow grounding you.

“Do you understand now?”  Minho’s voice was hoarse, deeper than before.  You shivered, just a bit, and the corner of his lips twitched up.

You couldn’t find words, unable to string any coherent thoughts together.  And you didn’t really want to, happy to have your mind all to yourself, no doubts in sight.  You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the tip of Minho’s nose.  He scrunched his face up, making you giggle.  But you needed to know one thing.  “Are we—are things different now?”

“We’re dating.  Unless you don’t want that,” he backtracked, eyes wide.

You grinned at him.  “I do.”

He heaved out a sigh of relief.  “Thank goodness.  I thought I really fucked up there.”

Now you really laughed, head falling forward to rest on his chest.  Minho’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer than you thought was possible.  You could hear his heartbeat, thudding just as fast as yours.

“You said the friendship was your favorite part of love,” Minho mused.  You hummed in agreement, nodding against him.  “Well I hope you don’t get sick of me.  I hear I’m pretty annoying.”

“Minho,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know you just rolled your eyes at me,” he teased.

“Well, you are annoying.  But I suppose it’s a part of your charm.”

He chuckled, “So that means you like my jokes?”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t push it.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

[generallybarzy]

i loved you first.

an: I wrote this mostly a couple nights ago when I was listening to my "ouch" playlist and sobbing so hard I got a 48-hour migraine over the fact that I'll never see my crush again and I can't do anything about it because a) I'm moving in less than a month and leaving everything I know behind and b) he has a girlfriend. But that emotion eventually evolved into "i'm never gonna see some of my best friends again after we move away from each other next month" and that just turned me into this big pit of anxiety where I felt like time was just moving too fast but not at all and I'll miss everything if I don't go do something. So. I was fucking sad and this was the result. completely unedited angst. probably sucks ass, but that's how I'm feeling right now. Anyway, I don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't really been around for a few days. I deleted all my asks so if you had something sent, its gone, and i'm just popping in to post this. idk when I'll be back this time, but i'm trying to take care of my irl relationships and moving and college and all that and it hurts a lot more than i can explain and everythings putting my anxiety through the roof lately. anyway........

song inspo: i loved you first- joan

word count: 2.3k

"You keep running away when I need you most

Running away when I get too close

My heart is full but yours is running out

I think I'm afraid of what comes next

Yeah, I'm afraid you've lost your head

Baby, you know that I loved you first

But now, you're in love with somebody else."

Mat was losing you.

You were his best friend. You'd grown together, laughed together, made stupid decisions together in the wake of your last breakup, he always came to to with his troubles, and, as much as he hated hearing the way your ex treated you, he kept his mouth shut and kept being the shoulder you needed to cry on again and again.

And Mat had been in love with you for as long as he could remember.

Ever since the night of your breakup, he'd been waiting for the right moment to tell you how he felt. You were fresh out of a breakup, and he knew that was the worst time to say anything, so he kept quiet. He helped you get yourself out there and smile once again. He brought that beautiful, gleaming smile back to your face. And it warmed his heart to know he had helped bring some of the sunshine back to your life. He waited and waited, comforting you after all your bad first dates and keeping his cool when you came over for movie night. He tried to ignore the way his heart pounded when you circled your arms around his waist and mumbled "At least I'll always have you, Maty." He tried his hardest to calm his heart and keep his eyes on the movie while you cuddled up with him, wearing his clothes, but the light of his TV betrayed him and lit up the way you were smiling against his chest, deep in sleep, safe and comfortable in his hoodie. He didn't tell you how he felt, all those years. He couldn't lose what he had of you in trying to get more. He would be happy with just this for now.

You rested against his chest, unaware of the way Mat was staring at you as if you'd put the stars in the sky all for him. He was so ready to give you his all, to tell you everything he wanted to say, to finally get to call you his, and hear you call him yours. He leaned down to ghost his lips across your cheek, letting the words fall before he even realized his mouth was moving.

"I love you so much, more than you'll ever know."

Maybe he said the words then because he knew you wouldn't hear, maybe he was afraid of actually telling you, afraid of the chance that he would scare you away with how full his heart was. But he didn't mind. He said it, and as long as he knew he loved you, he'd be content with staying like this for a while while you picked yourself back up and regained your confidence. Once you weren't still reeling from your breakup, he'd let it out. He'd tell you for real.

But then, one of your first dates went well.

He'd gotten his usual post-date text from you, the one he always made you promise to send just so he knew you were safe. He expected another letdown, a list of all the things wrong with your date, or ways they were just like your ex. Instead, you were gushing. Mat couldn't stand the hope in your messages, the way you were so excited, rambling on and on about this guy. He wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to be glad you were finding someone you liked, but he couldn't help feeling the pain from the sting that someone was actually taking you away from him again.

Soon, your movie nights together as friends were overtaken by date nights, and Mat was left alone in his apartment, sitting on the couch you used to cuddle him on, wearing the hoodie you loved to steal, and watching the TV show you introduced him to, half heartedly checking your snap story to see you in the middle of a date with him. He tried to hide his jealousy whenever you spoke of your boyfriend, he tried to appear proud and excited for you, but the hard truth he didn't want to face was that he was losing you. He was losing his best friend, the person he loved the most.

He didn't know when this started. He didn't know how to stop it, but you were pulling away from him. And that scared him. Mat couldn’t stand watching you fall more and more in love with this guy, not when he was right there, willing to give you all the love he had in his heart.

You were the one Mat went to on his worst days. The days when he felt like a waste of space, like he'd never amount to anything more than he was. The days it seemed like the weight of everyone's expectations was about to make him crumble to his knees. The days he needed you most. It only took a quick 'you free tonight? I need you.' text, and you knew exactly the state he was in. 'Of course Mat, I'm always free for you.' But ever since you started dating this guy, his texts went unanswered, unseen, and he was left alone on his hardest nights, with harsh reminders that the girl he loved was falling in love with somebody else right in front of his eyes, while he could do nothing but watch.

This guy had no right to come between you two. After all, Mat had loved you first.

He had comforted you for years over your shitty boyfriends, and this newest guy was no exception. Mat would still find himself, on rare nights, holding you in his arms while you sobbed about how your boyfriend made you cry again, whispering to Mat that 'at least I know you would never do this to me'. But the next day you were gone, running away from him as if you'd never snuggled up in his arms for comfort, as if the late-night conversations meant nothing to you.

'You're right, I would never do this to you." He thought to himself, watching you toy with the sleeve of his sweater and snuggle into his chest to dry your eyes with your best friend's warmth. "So why do you keep going back to the man who hurt you, when I'm right here?'

Mat had so much he wanted to say, and though he didn't want you to run away again, he could only hold his tongue for so long.

"I'm so glad you invited me out for lunch, Mat. He's been such an ass lately, so I'm glad to get away. It's been a while since we talked, yeah?"

Mat couldn't bring himself to answer. God, his heart was throbbing in his chest. He loved you so much, but you were falling in love with an asshole who didn't treat you right. You looked so beautiful sitting across the table from him. The sun was gleaming off your hair, but the beauty was made sour by the necklace that sat around your neck, the necklace your boyfriend had given you on your 3 month anniversary. Mat swallowed back his nerves. "(Y/N), I need to be honest with you."

Any trace of happiness on your face was gone, replaced with dread. Part of Mat felt like shit for making you feel like that, but another, more sinister part, felt a little glimmer of revenge. You'd been running away from him for months, abandoning your best friend for some shitty boyfriend who you still cried over to him, and maybe now you were feeling a slimmer of what dread he had felt when he thought of your crumbling friendship, and the love he had for you that he couldn't do anything with. "What's wrong, Mat? It seems really serious."

"It is." Mat took a deep breath. He couldn't meet your eyes. He didn't know when he started to feel uncomfortable around you. You had always been the person he could admit anything to. Now, you were pulling away from him. "We've been friends for so long, but recently, I feel like I'm… losing you."

"Mat, you're not losing me."

"Yeah, I am. I'm losing you to your new boyfriend.”

Finally, Mat met your eyes, and was astonished by the fear there. How could you spend the last few months drawing further and further away, and then be shocked when he confronted you? Hadn't you realized how little time you spent together? Hadn't you noticed how the only time you spent with him was when he was comforting you from something your boyfriend did to upset you? Hadn't your words- 'at least I know you'd never do this to me'- meant nothing?

"Look, I know you're happy with him, and I'm happy for you… no matter how much you complain about how he's an ass... but… we- you don't come over anymore.”

“I’m- I’m sorry, Mat, I’m more busy than I was when I was single-”

“No, it's not just that. You stopped answering my texts. You know… the ones… when I'm vulnerable. When I need you. I get that you’re gonna be busy, but I opened up to you about shit I would never tell to another person, and I can’t even get a response. You're running away when I need you most…"

He let the silence fall between you again. After a few moments, you spoke up, "Mat…" but your voice fell flat when you couldn't think of the right words to fill the air.

"You still come over, but only when you need someone to dry your tears when your boyfriend did something stupid. You come to me. You only come to me when you need my comfort, but you can’t give me the comfort when I need it, and I’m fucking tired of it.” His words weren’t bitter towards you at all. That’s not what he felt. He wasn’t angry at you, he was angry that either of you had let your boyfriend come between you, he was angry at himself for letting you go, for being too fucking insecure to tell you anything. “You- you keep telling me you wish you could find someone like me. But can't you tell how perfect I am for you?"

"Mat, stop." You were picking with your fingers, a habit he knew all too well.

“I know you remember that night.”

“Mat…”

“It was when you were still trying to date, and always came over after your bad first dates. We cuddled, we…. We got way closer than friends should. I thought- I guess I just thought there was something there. I thought we’d end up as more…”

“I-” Your throat was tight. You hadn’t even realized how much Mat’s words were affecting you. “You can't just… drop all this on me right now, it's not fair."

"What do you really see in him?"

"What?"

"What do you see in him? Does he really love you like you know I do?" You sat quietly, your mouth agape, eyes dropping to the table. Mat’s voice dropped quieter. “You know I love you. I know you know. Friends don’t just cuddle and… and fucking open up about every single little insecurity and promise each other they’ll never leave, and say ‘at least I know you’d never do this to me. I loved you. So fucking much. And it’s so hard to watch you fall in love with someone else, when my heart is so fucking full of love for you.” Mat scoffed in spite of himself. He knew he was fucking it all up, your friendship, any chance of a relationship with you, and it was making his words taste even more bitter. "You know what's not fair? How I have to sit here, watching you fall in love with someone who doesn't love you nearly as much as I do."

“Please stop, Mat.” You quieted him, your hands shaking, in fear of what would come of your surely-shattered friendship. “I- I didn’t know. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Bullshit.” Mat was well aware of the tears beading in his eyes, but he tried his hardest to ignore the burn of them rolling thickly down his cheeks. “I- I was always there to hold you… to comfort you when your dates didn’t go well or when your boyfriend fucked up. Can’t you see?”

The silence that fell between the two of you was deafening. Neither of you could make eye contact, and instead focused on staring at the table, not caring about the people inevitably walking around you and wondering what was happening.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Mat.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn't… I’m with my boyfriend. I can’t just…” You shook your head. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“Nothing.” Mat sat back in his chair. He’d said what he invited you here to say, and that was all he had planned. He didn’t think of anything else past this point. “I just… I had to tell you. I’m not gonna tell you what to do, I’m not gonna say you have to choose me or him, and I’m sure this fucked up our friendship like crazy. I just- I can’t keep watching this, okay? That’s all I had to say. I know you love him, and I… fuck, I still love you. I just hope you don’t forget about me, alright?”

“Mat, you’re my best friend.”

Mat stood up, sliding down some money for the drink he had bought earlier. God, he felt like shit, watching the girl he loved move on, knowing there was no way they could keep going on like this, no way she would want to keep seeing him knowing how he felt. But he couldn’t hide it any longer, and now, it was ruined.

“I gotta go.”

[countryclubstarkey]

Competition - Rafe Cameron x Reader x JJ Maybank

Requested  (I hope you like this! @countryclub-sloppytop​)

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader x JJ Maybank 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Threesome, Drinking, Choking, No protection, Cream Pie, Anal, Squirting, Overstimulation, this is also extremely dirty (I don’t know why I keep doing this LOL).

Word Count: 3.5k+ 

A/N: The rivalry between the pogues and Rafe isn’t that big in this, so he’s basically the rude brother of Sarah. The beginning is kind of long because I want to introduce the character, but then it gets into it. 

The Outer Banks, paradise on earth. Which is bullshit in your opinion, recently your parents decided to move you to the Outer Banks far away from your childhood town and friends. You were grateful for everything they give you, but moving you away on your last year of high school is stupid. They know that it takes you a while to open up to people, graduating with no friends isn’t that fun either. 

The only thing that you don’t mind is the beach, and living by the ocean. You come from a big city, so going to the beach is a once in a while thing that you and your friends did. 

“Okay, y/n, we have a family friend who lives here and they’ve invited us for dinner so please be ready by 7 pm.” Your mom says while walking into your room. 

Rolling your eyes playfully at her, “Mom, I don’t want to have dinner with a bunch of adults,” you whine at her. Rolling her eyes at you, you can see where you get it from now. 

“They have three kids, and two of them are around your age so please socialize tonight and come out of your shell,” she pulls out a black dress setting it on your bed. “Wear this tonight, and start getting ready, or else we are going to be late,” while walking out of your room. You let out a loud sigh dreading tonight’s dinner hoping it doesn’t end as horribly as you think. 

Around 7 pm, you finally arrive at a mansion in the extremely rich neighborhood of the Outer Banks. You feel out of place right away, their kids are probably some snobby rich kids. You’re wearing a black deep plunge dress that comes to your mid-thighs. Earlier, You felt slightly overdressed, but now seeing the house you feel like you should have came in a gown. 

A middle-aged man opens the door when you reach it, “Hello, oh you must be y/n, nice to meet you sweetheart,” he tells you while shaking your hands. You shake his hand and walk into the house amazed by the architecture and the decor. Your eyes land upon a blonde girl who looks about your age smiling widely at you. 

“Hi, I’m Sarah, nice to meet you,” while pulling you in for a hug. You didn’t expect her to be so straight forward, but you return the gesture, “I’m y/n.” 

She grabs your hand and begins to give you a tour of her house, you didn’t expect Sarah to be this nice. The rich kids at your old school looked down on everyone and laughed at everyone who they thought was beneath them. She takes you down to the basement where you heard laughter, which seems to belong to a teenage boy. 

“Rafe, this is y/n and y/n this is my annoying older brother Rafe,” she says while ruffling his hair. He slaps her hand away and stands up where you can actually see his face. All you can say is wow. He’s at least a foot taller than you, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair, and a chiseled jawline. 

He looks you up and down, biting his lips before extending his hand out, “Nice to meet you, sweetheart.” You blush at his nickname and shake his hand. Sarah pushes him away from you, grabbing your arm and pulling you back upstairs. 

“Please, don’t fall for my brother’s game, he has a reputation and I don’t want you to be added to his list,” she rambles on letting you know. You nod your head, but you know you’re going to fall into his trap at some point. 

“Kids, dinner,” Ward yells out at all of you causing you to walk towards the dining room. You meet Rose, who is definitely an interesting personality. Also, Wheezie who’s Sarah’s younger sister, she seems a little bratty but it’s probably because she’s not close to your age. 

You take a seat next to Rafe across from Sarah, who narrows her eyes at Rafe sending him a warning. Throughout dinner, it was just the parents talking, while the rest of you just ate your food in silence. Towards the end, you felt Rafe’s hand land on your thigh causing you to let out a slight cough. He smirks at your actions and removes his hand pretending like nothing just happened, just wanting a reaction from you. Before you can head out with your parents, Sarah pulls you aside for a second. 

“There’s a party on the cut tomorrow night that my boyfriend and his friends are hosting, and you are going to come with me.” Debating whether or not you should go. “I don’t know, I don’t really party,” you simply reply to her. Back home, you preferred partying with your small group of friends rather than a large group. 

She pushes you out of the house yelling, “I’ll pick you up at 7.” You laugh at her actions and realize that tonight wasn’t as bad as you thought. 

The next night, Sarah picks you up on the dot with Rafe driving the car. While Sarah is talking, you glance at Rafe admiring his features. He notices your stare and sends you a quick wink causing you to pull away and pay attention to Sarah again. You notice the car stop by a huge beach filled with teenagers drinking and basically humping each other out in the open. 

“Come on, I want you to meet John B and his friends.” You come face to face with a group of teenage boys who are extremely attractive and a stunning curly-haired girl. 

“Guys, this is y/n, y/n this is John B, Pope, Kie, and JJ,” while pointing to each one. You all acknowledge each other, but your eyes linger on JJ a little longer than the others. He throws an arm around your shoulder pulling you towards the keg. 

Handing you a cup, “You got to be a bit tipsy for these parties to be fun,” he whispers in your ear cheering his cup to yours and chugging his down. For the few hours, you try to keep up with JJ but the boy was like a machine. Downing each drink like its water, you’re slightly concerned but too drunk to care. You get to know him a little and can point out that he is a natural flirt, which you don’t mind at all. 

You forget all about Rafe until you see him walking towards you and JJ. You notice JJ’s mood alter once he reaches you. 

“Pogue,” Rafe sneers at JJ. Okay, maybe this really is paradise on earth, because you never thought you would be between two of the hottest guys you have ever seen. “Kook,” JJ replies with the same attitude. However, the tension is a bit much between the two of them, you don’t know why and you don’t want to know. 

“Umm, the testosterone is a bit much here so I’m going to go find Sarah,” you say while patting their chests. The two watch your hips sway as you walk away, and look at each other before rushing after you. As they’re running after you, JJ pushes Rafe a little bit causing him to stumble a little falling behind. JJ grabs your waist spinning you around before you could walk any further. His fingers tickling your sides causing you to break out into giggles. Your fun is cut short when Rafe pushes JJ causing him to trip and land on his ass. You burst out into laughter at the look on JJ’s face, but he retaliates by pushing him back. 

You sober up a bit when you notice the harsh expressions on their faces, so you stand between the two pushing them away, “how about you both put your toxic masculinity aside and not fight tonight.” The two scoff at you continuing to glare at each other like they’re arch-nemesis. 

Feeling bold for the night, you pull the two boys closer to you so that you’re stuck between the two, “how about you fight it out another way,” you whisper at the two. The two boys frown at you not understanding your statement before smirks appear on their faces. 

“I don’t know, I don’t want to humiliate you JJ,” Rafe tells the surfer boy. Letting out a low chuckle causing you to feel the vibrations through his body. JJ steps even closer to your body grabbing your hips tightly, “Don’t worry pretty boy, let’s just hope you can get it up.” You try to cover up your giggle with your hand, but JJ does it for you. He leans forward pressing his lips to yours, he tastes like cheap beer, weed, and surprisingly sweet like honey. You wrap your arms around his neck bringing him closer to you, feeling like putty under his touch. 

Rafe grabs your body pulling you away before connecting his lips with yours causing you to let a soft moan satisfying him. He tastes like the opposite of JJ, you could taste the vodka that he drank earlier, and his mouth still minty fresh from the gum he took earlier. Rafe’s touch is a bit rougher than JJ, he’s kissing you like you are his last meal. You pull away not wanting everyone in the Outer Banks to see your business, “Is there a place where we can go that’s more private,” you murmur at the two. JJ nods grabbing your arm pulling you away from the beach with Rafe following you guys close behind. 

The three of you pull up to what looks like an old fish shack turned into a little house, it looks extremely cozy. Rafe looks at the place in disgust, “you live in this trash?” Rafe questions. You slap his stomach, scolding him.

JJ rolls his eyes pulling you into his lap while sitting on the couch, “Sorry, my daddy doesn’t pay for everything.” You felt another fight coming, so you grab JJ’s face pulling him into a bruising kiss. 

“How about instead of fighting, one of you fucks me,” you tell them and tugging your shirt off leaving you in your lacy light purple bralette. The alcohol is still in your system making you bolder than other times. They look at each other, agreeing to be civil just for one night before turning back to you looking you down like you’re their prey. 

Rafe connects your lip, moving one leg on his lap, while the other remains on JJ’s lap. JJ leans forwards pulling one of your straps down exposing your breasts to them. He grabs the one closest to him and kneads it in his hands. Bringing it into his mouth, his teeth brush against your nipple causing your core to ache for him. His mouth begins to suck and nip the area, leaving love bites all over your breast leaving a reminder of the sinful night you’re going to have. 

Rafe turns your attention back on him, biting your bottom lip bringing it in his mouth. His tongue envelops your own, his hand reaching up to wrap around your neck bringing you closer to him. Loosening his grip a bit, “Harder,” you whimper at him. He readjusts his grip slightly causing your breathing to become uneven. The mixture of the tight grip on your neck and his tongue in your mouth causes you to pull away for a second to catch your breath. Rafe immediately pulls you back in basically fucking your mouth with his tongue. The sensation from Rafe on your lips and JJ on your breasts cause your core to tighten.  

JJ unbuttons your shorts, slipping his hands down feeling your pussy shudder at the sudden touch, “Fuck, she’s soaking,” he tells Rafe. His fingers move your panties to the side, slipping into your heat. You pull away from Rafe whimpering, panting from the pressure on your core. Rafe starts to rub figures on your clit joining JJ. The two begin to match each other’s pace, JJ pumping two fingers in and out of you with Rafe rubbing your clit leaving you wanting for more. Rafe’s other hand returns to your throat stimulating you further causing you to let out a loud moan, “Come on, let me hear you scream,” JJ mumbles in your ear-biting your lower lobe. You feel yourself getting closer, and let out a shrieking scream as you cum all over JJ’s fingers. 

JJ slips his fingers out, glistening with your juices. He taps your lips urging you to suck his fingers clean. 

You lean forward wrapping your pink lips around them tasting yourself, you lick a long strip gathering your wetness before wrapping your mouth around his fingers again pulling away when you feel satisfied. You felt their members poking your thighs, reaching out grabbing both of them rubbing them through their pants, “How about you suck us off like you just did with his fingers.” Rafe says while unbuttoning his pants and rolling them down his legs, JJ copies his actions urging you to get on your knees. It’s an intimidating sight, the two standing up with you facing them in their briefs, their bulges prominent. 

You pull down each of their boxers, their erections pop out hitting their belly buttons. Grabbing each one in your hands, Rafe’s shaft is a lot thicker, while JJ is winning in length. You pump JJ’s length while wrapping your lips around Rafe’s thick shaft spreading his precum around with your lips. Rolling your tongue around his tip causing him to let out a muffled grunt, he grabs your head having enough with the teasing, “Open wide.” He begins to thrust in your mouth, grabbing your head as leverage letting you adjust to his length before delivering harsher thrusts. 

On the other hand, JJ begins to thrust in your hands wanting some pleasure as well. You spread his precum around using it as lubrication before speeding up your movement making him let out tiny grunts. Your movement comes to a halt when Rafe thrusts a little too deep causing you to gag around his length. He gives one more thrust not moving back, causing you to control your breathing around his member. Finally, pulling away and looking at your face with your mascara running, a few tears blotched on your face and your plumped lips. 

JJ turns your attention to his length before thrusting a little more in your hands and pulling you up from your knees. He pulls your shorts and panties down tossing them in a random corner of the house, “Come on,” he grunts at the two of you. He tosses you on a random bed before diving in between your legs and smashing his lips against yours. 

You reach for his member, but he slaps your hands away. He spreads your legs, eagerly thrusting into you. Both letting out a sigh of relief, lifting your leg he puts it on his shoulder continuing his stirring thrusts. Rafe joins you on the bed, palming your breasts under his large hands. He starts playing with your nipples increasing the pleasure that you’re feeling all over. JJ moves you targeting your g-spot causing your body to rip away from the bed before Rafe grabs a tight grip on your hips pushing you down onto the bed. JJ reaches down rubbing your clit causing your orgasm to build up, “Fuc-k, JJ I’m coming,” you scream out. He places a harsh slap on your clit causing you to jolt and making you feel like you’re floating after calming down from your orgasm. 

JJ lays down on the bed pulling you on top of him before Rafe reaches down circling his thumb around your tighter hole, “You’ve ever been touched here,” he whispers in your ear. You shake your head, body trembling from the previous orgasm. JJ pulls his lips against yours giving you an impulsive slap to your ass. Gasping out from the sudden action, JJ swallows your gasps slipping his tongue back in your mouth. 

“You got any lube, she’s tight as hell here I got to stretch her out a bit,” Rafe asks JJ. He reaches for a bottle hidden in his dresser tossing it to Rafe who catches it with ease. Pouring some lube over your hole, and his fingers he slowly presses one in your rear. An uncomfortable squeak blurts out from your mouth, which JJ silences with his lips. Rafe continues to stretch you out with his fingers pausing when he feels you stiffen. After managing to get his third finger in, he decides to try it with his cock. He signals JJ to distract you, you feel his member press against your tight hole slightly whimpering, “It’s okay princess, you’re going to beg me to go faster in a minute,” Rafe grunts in your ear. Moving slightly, pushing his length inch by inch, feeling yourself stretch out, you grab JJ to steady yourself. He reaches down rubbing your clit to distract you from the uncomfortable feeling, you feel Rafe’s hips touch your backside when he finally enters you fully, “F-uckk,” he whimpers. 

Not moving for a few minutes, he feels you clench on him causing him to give shallow thrusts, “I want you too,” you tell JJ. He grabs his cock watching it disappear between your legs again, Rafe’s thrusts stopping so you can get used to the feeling of the two. You shut your eyes in pleasure and pain, never feeling this full in your life. The two begin thrusting simultaneously, while Rafe would thrust in, JJ would pull out. Feeling yourself already getting close, you move your hands to your clit rubbing it pleasuring yourself further. Rafe pulls you up moving you towards his body, one hand on your chest while the other grabs your neck once again. JJ moves your hand out of the way replacing it with his own rapidly rubbing your clit. 

A new feeling begins to build up with your core causing you to scratch at the air trying to grab onto something, the boys quicken their pace gripping every part of your body trying to get closer to their own orgasm. Beginning to see stars, you try to push JJ’s hands away, his strength preventing you. Your vision goes blurry as you let out silent scream falling limp in Rafe’s arms, “Fuck, she just squirted, that’s so fucking hot,” JJ groans. Finishing up their own orgasm the two fill you up with their cum, milking it out until every bit is inside of you. 

Pulling out of you and watching their cum leak out of each of your holes onto your thighs mixing together with your own juices. Slowly opening your eyes from your euphoric state, you face JJ’s baby blue eyes, “Welcome back Sunshine,” he grins at you. Rafe begins leaving sloppy kisses all over your body, your body trembling from the new feeling. 

He reaches down getting close to your heat before you can stop him, his fingers slip inside you gathering your wetness using it as lubrication. Your body moves off the bed trying to move away from him because of the overstimulation, “Please, Rafe I can’t anymore.” JJ pulls you on his lap whispering sweet things in your ears, “He didn’t see you squirt babe, you going show him how beautiful you look right?” JJ asks you while twisting your nipples between your fingers. Rafe nods his head giving you a pouty look, “You going to do it again right, just for me sweetheart.” 

He speeds up his fingers while lowering himself and presses his tongue against your clit at the same time, your body craving him and inviting him further to continue his actions. He finds your g-spot when you let out a yelp, screaming “Right, there.” He claims the same spot over and over again, while JJ continues to whisper in your ear urging you to cum for them. The same feeling comes back building up in your abdomen once again, “I---,” you try to say but it’s too late you squirt all over Rafe’s fingers, tongue and body. Your body trembling and exhausted from the multiple orgasms you had that night. Feeling satisfied with seeing your shaking body because of what he did, he pulls his fingers out of you, slipping them in his mouth, licking your juices clean. You sigh at the sight, feeling turned on but no ounce in your body wanting to continue. 

JJ leans in one more time leaving a passionate kiss on your lips before laying down beside you, while Rafe lays on the other side. The room is foggy smelling like pure sex and sweat with the only sound echoing through is your deep breathing. 

Breaking the silence, “So who was better?” Rafe asks you. You look at the two boys and realize that they were serious, leaving you a giggling mess you shake your head at them. 

“I never said I’ll choose, I just said you guys should do me instead of fighting,” you tell the two before wrapping your arms around Rafe pulling JJ closer to cuddle you from behind. They share a look before leaning in pressing their lips against your body again. 

“Maybe, we need to try it again, so that you have an actual answer.” 

[itsuki-minamy]

WONDERFUL SCHOOL DAYS: MY PRECIOUS RED

CHAPTER 1: START

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: skyflyinginaction

* Gakuen K (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Suddenly she raises her face to the sound of something rolling.

It looked like it was a dolly.

The morning dew turned everything milky white.

The light red of cherry blossoms stretched over her and the world turned pink.

A school route that shouldn't be there yet.

The refreshing air that touched the surroundings was cold, humid, and heavy.

The cool green was also wet with dew and reflected the morning sun softened by mist.

There was still a little time left before the morning dew cleared, the air warmed with the breath of the students going to school, and spring felt warm and joyful.

"Super Ashinaka High School, huh."

From today she will attend classes here.

Her new uniform was a bit embarrassing.

A mixture of anxiety and tension, she could barely sleep last night. She should be weak in the morning, but she woke up at 5 in the morning.

She was told that she had to go to the school principal's office in front of the classroom to register and receive various explanations from her teacher in the staff room. So she left early, but it may have been a little too early.

She walked alone before a row of cherry blossoms full of morning dew.

Being alone in a world that melts into light red made her uncomfortable.

She decided to move to this school because she no longer wanted to be alone. But after all, she had the unpleasant feeling that she here she too would be alone.

Thinking it too much, she wondered what to do with everything from the first day of moving, but she kept thinking.

"……!"

When she was desperately trying to get rid of the anxiety that was born when she moved out, she heard a jerky sound again.

"Ah?"

Was there anyone? At this time of day?

Suffering from loneliness and anxiety, she was scared and ran away. She continued to the plaza in front of the school building.

In the gradually fading milky-white morning dew, she gasped as she encountered a figure that seemed drawn in light ink.

Along with the sound she heard earlier, the shadow made strange movements.

She was a little scared, but at the same time, her curiosity grew.

Beyond the miserable line of sight, there was a boy.

A boy in a black school uniform.

Navy blue hat. Peculiar auburn hair that bounced.

The open-chested shirt was hemmed at the pants and was a bit baggy.

She instinctively looked at the bright sky blue jacket he was wearing.

A school uniform? Hey? What? Student from another school?

But here on the school grounds? But the uniform here was...

"……?"

She didn't know why, but she tilted her head.

However, when she suddenly saw his feet, she was convinced of only one thing. Ah, she already understood it. That shaking sound was the sound of a skateboard.

The boy, who seemed unaware of her existence, was skating and skating, whether he was playing or practicing.

She thought he was jumping energetically. He turned the skateboard under his feet a few laps and got back on the skateboard. He spun on impulse, lifted the skateboard with one foot, and mounted again.

Although he was gliding at considerable speed, he avoided obstacles like nothing.

A series of light techniques that made him feel like the skateboard was part of his body.

Crack...

Involuntarily, she likes it.

She wondered if she could do it, or she would fall terribly.

How will he balance it? Why does that skateboard stick to his feet even if he jumps? It was strange…

It was like playing with the wind. It was like the wind itself.

Light, fast, refreshing and unpredictable. Freedom anywhere.

There was nothing to bind or trap him now.

His appearance was carefree and he didn't seem to have anything to do with worries and problems.

Integrating with the wind as he wanted.

It was at that moment that she became curious and was watching every move he made.

"Ah?"

The boy with the skateboard got on the railing of the stairs and went down.

"What?"

In an instant he was gone and involuntarily screamed.

Hey? Uh, it can't be! He fell?!

Before thinking, her feet moved forward. She was running out of breath.

She immediately reached the stairs and stood on them. Looking down with her heart pounding, he seemed to skid over the railing, landing brilliantly at the bottom. He slid down as he was and leapt to the top.

Did he hear her when he inadvertently held her chest with both hands and took a relieved breath?

Her shoulders shook and she quickly looked up at him.

"……!"

He had amazing eyes. Sharp, fierce, warlike, and savage. Hot and strong. It was like a flame.

She took a breath and opened her eyes. He looked at her too.

At that moment, he suddenly turned bright red and hurriedly turned around.

As he was, he kicked the ground several times and accelerated. Without stopping, he left her behind.

"Wait."

She swallowed the words that rose to her throat, surprised that the words were coming out of her throat.

She rambled a bit and lowered her hand, which reflexively pursued his back.

She felt that she wanted to see a more splendid technique, but it was a bit disappointing, but was it enough to stop him?

She turned her head and turned around.

The morning dew was quite sunny and the petals of the cherry blossoms fluttered happily in the blue sky.

"I am Konohana Saya. Thanks."

The letters "Konohana Saya" written on the board. When she bowed her head, she received crackles and scant applause.

Super high school "Ashinaka", 2nd grade group.

Ashinaka Junior High School, an integrated education school from kindergarten through college. This island centered around the school is called "Super Ashinaka Gakuenjima".

The economy is established only on the island and it feels like another country other than Japan. In fact, it seems that few people come to the island, even if they are not related to the school.

Until recently, she didn't even know such a school existed. She found out about it from a letter of recommendation to move suddenly.

But she believed that this was exactly like a ship for migration.

At the time, she was in a situation where she had to transfer to another school and hopefully she would stay away from her parents and the environment around her.

So, she came to this school, which has a dormitory on this island far from her parents' house, and they recommended that she move.

Suppressing her nervous, throbbing chest, she looked around her at all who will be her classmates.

"……!"

And then, she gasped when she saw the boy with a bat on the window seat.

Eh? Was he the boy from this morning?

Was that boy from this school? Was he wearing a black school uniform?

Behind him... a big blond boy with sunglasses, he was wearing the same school clothes.

Why just those guys?

The moment she turned her neck, she realized she was wrong.

She was wrong. Not just those guys.

On the side of the hall, she glanced at the boy who was looking away.

The boy with glasses was wearing a pure white school uniform.

She did not believe that the uniform was free choice. She had not seen such a guide.

Then why?

When she was filling her head with question marks, the master said, "Then, Yukizome-san. Please take care of her.", and he walked around the main room.

In the classroom, where there was a lot of noise when the teacher left, she was a little anxious and looked around her. A girl with sincere and friendly eyes ran up to her and smiled at her a friendly smile.

"Yes. Transfer student. Nice to meet you. I'm Kukuri Yukizome."

"Yukizome-san."

"Call me Kukuri. I'll call you Saya-chan too."

She was relieved that she had a carefree smile.

"So, Kukuri-chan."

"Hehehe. If you have any questions, ask me anything! I'll show you around the school today after classes, but trust me for whatever you need."

"So what comes first?"

Kukuri begins by explaining the PDA, which is a student ID card.

Ah... the uniform. She had wasted the time to ask.

She wanted to know about the boy she saw in the morning, but at that moment Kukuri's explanation was more important. She couldn't be rude to overlook her kindness.

She regains her mind and look directly at Kukuri.

After all, that question solved itself after lunch.

"It looks delicious!"

Around the same time that the teacher left the classroom, she looked for a place to sit for lunch, and suddenly they hugged her from behind her.

"Kyaa!"

"Oh, I'm hungry! It smells good!"

When she hurriedly glanced back over her shoulder, she met stunning strange eyes, blue and gold, and her eyes widened.

She was a beautiful girl. Literally, truly, a beautiful girl.

White skin and cherry cheeks. Long straight light red hair.

A boy with silver-white hair and tender eyes came towards her, who was stunned and hardened, and clasped his hands in a hurry.

"Sorry. Hey, Neko!"

"Shiro! That gohan smells delicious! This class was really difficult!"

Hmm? Is it a delicious gohan smell?

Eh? Isn't that the delicious smell of gohan?

Kukuri smiles bitterly beside her like a poker.

"Wagahai-chan, Saya-chan = Gohan, right?"

"Yes!"

"Yes!" She said cheerfully.

"Sorry. Neko isn't good at remembering people's names. She's not malicious."

"Eh? Oh, it's fine. I don't feel uncomfortable. I was surprised."

Um... when she looked at the boy, she thought he realized the meaning of that line of sight. The boy smiled and bowed quickly.

"I'm Yashiro Isana. Everyone calls me Shiro. So I'm glad you call me that too. That girl is Neko. Shiro and Neko."

"Shiro-kun."

"Yes. And this is Kuro."

A boy approached before she knew it. He had beautiful black hair and straight black eyes.

"I am Kuroh Yatogami. As a classmate, thank you for your continued support."

"Huh? Oh, yeah! This is it!"

Unexpectedly, she bowed at the harsh self-introduction. She was shocked. By no means, when she introduced herself, have they thanked her for any support.

"Shiro~. I'm hungry~."

"So, let's make a lunch box. Konohana-san, we'll let you go then. Konohana-san has to have lunch too."

"Bento!"

Neko suddenly let go of her and looked at Yatogami-kun's heavy weight with her eyes shining.

"Hmm. Okay. Then Saya-chan, let's go. I'll show you the school cafeteria and tell you the location of the shopping department."

"Eh? But…"

Kukuri's hand seemed to have a lunch box.

"If it's a cafeteria, I think I can go alone with the navigation system. That's Kukuri-chan's lunch box, right?"

"That's right, let me go with you. Oh! I'm not just a guide am I? I want to eat lunch with Saya-chan."

"Eh? Ah…"

She said those words softly to her. She was so happy that she was going to cry.

"So, I take your word. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank, because I want to talk a lot and get to know you well, Saya-chan. Let's go!"

Kukuri called out to her and smiled.

She wanted to meet her. Those words were a bit shocking, but she was still happy. It was amazing that she wanted to be her friend.

They greeted Shiro and left the room together.

"Oh, it's true."

They were probably boys from another class. She remembered the uniform when she saw the boy in the black school uniform fluttering around and came forward.

"Hey, Kukuri-chan.", she told her as she showed her the back of the boy who was walking away from her.

"Why do some guys have different uniforms?"

"Oh, that boy belongs to a special club."

"Special club?"

"Yes. Special club activities. It is one of the characteristics of this school. There are seven special club activities at this school in addition to the regular club activities. Club members will be able to use special skills when they join the club. They are popular among students, because the word "special ability" is great, isn't it? But only the "chosen ones" recognized by each director can join the club."

The word "special ability" surprised her.

"Only the chosen ones?"

"Yes. Not everyone can enter. In that sense, it is 'special'. The one wearing that black school uniform is from the red club."

"Red club... There were two people in the class, right?"

"Yes. Yata-kun and Kamamoto-kun. Yata-kun has auburn hair and a hat. Misaki Yata. The boy with the big sunglasses is Rikio Kamamoto."

"Yata-kun. I see. His name is Yata-kun...", she thought.

"Some boys wore white school uniforms, right? That boy was from the blue club. Fushimi Saruhiko-kun."

"Blue. So all seven of them have different uniforms?"

"No. There is also a regular uniform section. For example, the silver part. There is also a club that wears a rabbit mask and wears a ninja costume only during club activities."

"Eh?"

Ninja costume?

Did she wonder why? Was she the only one to whom all this was really suspicious?

"In this school, the special club activities are something special. Well, I think you will know right away. Oh, Saya-chan. There are several ways to get to the cafeteria and the shopping department, but the shortest route is to through this courtyard."

"Courtyard?"

"Yes."

Saya pushed open the glass door that led to the courtyard.

"Wow..."

She involuntarily screamed into the courtyard, which was much bigger than she expected.

The well-kept flowerbed had colorful spring flowers. The fresh green of the plantation was also visible.

The lush grass. No trash had fallen on the cobblestones. Light pink petals fluttered from the beautiful and splendid cherry blossoms. The white garden table and chairs below were very fascinating. It would be very nice to deliver her lunch there.

"Ah, but it's better to stop by on limited menu day. I think it's best to tour the school building. There are plenty of places to shop."

What?

"Eh? Did you buy it now? I heard it well?"

Eh? A joke? Would they laugh?

Kukuri just laughed kindly, "Yes. Is that true?"

"As Miwa-san says, it is a tactic. It is a strategy to expel the rivals. Most of the students cross the courtyard, so the courtyard is inevitably the most dangerous place."

She said it naturally, didn't she? Waiting? Was it weird that she didn't understand?

"I set up a purchase to get a limited menu... I haven't had any experience with that."

"Oh, is that true? It's interesting once you get used to it."

So it was.

But surely it would be fun to think of getting a limited menu through the differences? Should she think of it as a game?

That was when she thought about it.

"Sorry. I can't come here."

Kukuri sighed and looked back.

"Eh? Why?"

When she tilted her head, Kukuri pointed at something, saying "That." She was just looking around her and, for the first time, she realized that there were a lot of people gathered there and she opened her eyes.

Also, the atmosphere was not good for compliments. It was terribly upsetting and she felt bad.

A group of black school uniforms and a group of white school uniforms staring at each other. Was it a special club activity?

People who wore black school uniforms had a slightly mischievous impression. In contrast, many of the people wearing white school uniforms appeared to have a tight look. She felt like they were honor students.

However, all white school uniforms with his honors wore sabers at the waist.

So those sabers were weapons that can kill people. What was that?

"Kukuri-chan? They seem to be looking at each other, but what the hell are they doing? And what they have around their hips is a saber, right?"

"It's a conflict. What they wear on their waists is a saber."

"What?"

The answer is so simple that she doubts the ears of her.

"Conflict... is that a fight?"

"Of course it is."

"Eh? Are they fighting? Students?"

"Oh. It's a good reaction. Fresh and cool. Okay. You'll be surprised at first, but you'll get used to it. It's the usual thing."

What was that reaction?! It was really weird.

She realized that she was used to conflict.

However, when she looked around her, there were people looking away, but no one was surprised or made noise, and it seemed that Kukuri's reaction was correct there. She said it was a statement of fight, maybe the common sense of this school was a little strange?

Struggling to understand, she returned to a group of gazes.

"Oh, Yata-kun..."

"Yes. I told you that he is a member of the red club and wears a black school uniform. There is also Kamamoto-kun."

Kukuri pointed a finger at that big blond boy with sunglasses.

"Most of the red club members are bad. Oh, but that's fine, you'll be sure. We don't take the word 'bad' as a bad thing, so they are accepted by the students in general."

Eh? What kind of place was this? She didn't understand anything.

"Isn't it bad?"

"Hmm. It may be wrong to use the word 'bad', it doesn't mean they are bad people. How to say it? I think it's like people who aren't good to keep up with everyone. People who live their own way can be the closest ones. The principal is Mikoto Suoh, a third-year student. He is also one of the heads of this school, it is said that he has a lot of fights. You see, it's that red-haired person next to Yata-kun."

Kukuri points to the person in the middle of the black group.

Chillingly sharp red eyes. Tense and delicate cheeks.

Was he really older? He seemed charismatic. Regardless, his presence was astonishing.

"The blue club are wearing the white school uniform. They have excellent grades and good behavior. Most of the members of the group are super elite who also serve as student organizers and members of the disciplinary committee. The activities are the maintenance of discipline, student orientation, activities such as leading students at a school event, etc."

Discipline, right? Eh? So... what about sabers? Isn't it a violation of the law to use weapons and swords?

"That's why they don't seem to get along with the blues from one point of view. The director of the blue club is Reisi Munakata, a third year student. He is the director of the Student Organization within the School, the example! of exemplary behavior!"

That's right, the central figure of the white group that Kukuri later showed was like the "exemplary student".

Sharp glasses with calm and cool eyes. He listened to the red club swearing with a sweet smile on his lips, as if he were listening to classical music.

"You saw the one next to him in the hall, right? That's Fushimi Saruhiko-kun."

"Fushimi-kun."

"That's why I can't come through here. It's hard to get involved."

Well, could they involve her?

She was scared and just wanted to get out of there immediately.

"Hey, Monkey! Bastard, say it again!"

However, at that moment, a strong voice rang out from the courtyard.

She turned around and looked at the group again.

"Oh, I'll tell you a few times. Your power is below mine. MI SA KI."

Fushimi laughed vividly. Delighted, as if he was intoxicated with something.

He was creepy.

What was that look?

Furthermore, Misaki really looked angry.

"Hmm...! I can't take it! I'll take you down!"

Yata jumped up, fierce fury fading into his eyes. That's it… Misaki is Yata's name.

Suddenly, his classmates began to move.

"Wow. It's started. This is the end of the story for the special part. We have to move fast."

Kukuri came out in a hurry.

But she couldn't answer.

She was fascinated by the fiery bat metal that rose from Yata's hands.

What? It was certainly a flame.

Born from empty space, grew up in the blink of an eye and covered Yata's hands.

She was stunned by the fist that burned like a torch.

"What?"

"Saya-chan?"

The shape was slightly different, but everyone in it was able to easily create a flame and target the blue club. The members of the blue club also drew sabers one after another and defended themselves.

It wasn't just a saber, there was a blue light on the blade.

Is that a special ability?

It's like the magic that appears in the story... Wasn't it a dream?

Well then, what about her...?

"Saya-chan!"

Her shoulders were shaking and she suddenly returned to herself.

"Ah... sorry. Kukuri-chan..."

"Okay. It's dangerous here. Let's go now."

"Yes."

At that moment, Kukuri urged her to move quickly.

Yes, it was exactly a fight. Other students in the courtyard were screaming.

"Ah!"

Looking back, the first thing she saw was a knife with a red lotus flame approaching them.

And that was the last thing. She didn't have time to think about anything.

"Kukuri-chan, it's dangerous!"

Kukuri's body moved quickly. At that moment, a flash of light enveloped her.

In the bright light she was unable to open her eyes, and a tremendous destructive sound was heard.

"Tsu!"

However, it was only a moment, and soon the light disappeared like a lie.

However, the numb ears remained as they were, and the sound of the world that was lost immediately after the destructive sound had not yet returned, leaving only a high-pitched beep.

She thoughtfully held her ears with her hands and shook her head to shake her eyes and limbs from her.

A vague hum came from a distance, and she suddenly lowered her eyes over Kukuri in her arms.

"Ah...! Kukuri-chan, are you hurt?"

"No. I'm fine. Nothing happened to me, but... Saya-chan..."

"Eh?"

"Well, the light is coming out of Saya-chan's body, but..."

"Ah!"

She was surprised by the words. She quickly released Kukuri and looked at her hands.

Both hands had a vague white light. Her whole body was in that state. It was as if she herself was emitting light.

When she looked around her hastily, the stone pavement was severely broken and scraped only around her. It was like they had excavated with heavy equipment or something.

The knife... strangely, it pierced the stone pavement with the flame burning.

The knife turned to stone. It was also deep. That should not be the case.

"Ah!"

Many of the impossible visions piled up and the blood rose again. Reflectively she hug her.

Oh! She again...

"Saya-chan. What's wrong?"

Kukuri's question chilled her back.

When she stood up, she took a step back and walked away from Kukuri.

"Saya-chan...?"

Kukuri's astonished face stared at her back.

What did she have to do? What was she to answer?

She didn't even know what that was.

It was at that time...

"A 'skill', right?"

A sweet, low and gentle voice resonated with the usual sound of his shoes.

When she shook her shoulders and raised her face, the person standing there was Reisi Munakata, who was the head of the blue clan and the Student Organization within the school.

In his hand was a sword that glowed pale.

It was horrible, but... no, more than that.

"Skill...?"

She was amazed at the words she heard for the first time.

"Yes. People with innate special abilities are called 'Strain'."

With that said, Reisi Munakata put the saber in the scabbard and pulled up his glasses with his fingers.

"The power of a Strain sometimes hurts people."

A painful memory crossed her mind at that moment.

She instinctively she pursed her lips.

"It is also our job to prevent that from happening. The other day, there was a report that a Strain had entered the island, but are you a transfer student?"

With a rattling noise, Munakata took a step closer. He turned and took a step back.

"The birth of a talented person off campus is infinitely equal to zero."

"Oh, that, I ..."

"In other words, the exception is that you are a Strain. Transfer student Konohana Saya. If you don't resist, nothing bad will happen to you. Surrender quietly and quickly."

Surrender.

As usual, a soft, sweet smile on his lips.

However, there was a dignified and sharp light in the eyes behind the glasses, showing that the words weren't a joke.

"Here we go."

Reisi Munakata approached her.

She knew she must accept. She should quietly surrender.

But what would happen as a result of the surrender? She already knew what to do after that.

She didn't want to think like that again!

A trauma revived in the back of her eyes.

She shook her head violently and took a step back. And when she held her head, she screamed.

"I do not like it!"

"……"

At that moment, the flame worn by the knife driven into the stone pavement on the rocky shore swayed and suddenly turned into a terrible glow.

Munakata was shocked and flew away.

At the same time, a column of fire that was burning the heavens unnaturally swelled and surrounded her.

"Eh?"

The heat increased and the view was surrounded by flames.

Although she glanced around her hastily, it was a flame on one side. A flame surrounded her.

What?! What was happening?!

No way, this was her too?!

"What...?"

She thought about it for a moment. Suddenly feeling congested, she looked at her limbs.

She got worse and worse and she knelt on the spot.

"What?"

The field of view was blurry. The smoke soaked her and tears came out, she spilled and got wet, she was fed by the heat and she dried herself quickly

Her head was shaking and she fell.

"Evacuate!"

Was it Munakata senpai? A sharp voice rang out.

Beyond the flames she was terribly crowded, with countless footsteps flapping.

"......"

Why did this happen?

The earth was burned, the sky, while the flames protected it and prevented other invasions.

No, it could be the other way around. Maybe to protect everyone from her. She maybe she was trapped in a fire ship so as not to harm her surroundings again.

That's. The witch must be burned at the stake. So the price to pay is fixed. She is not a good common person.

"Cough..."

She fell and coughed.

It was painful. The air was not getting well into her lungs.

Severe pain ran down her left hand.

It was a stabbing pain, but she could no longer move her body.

She tried to stand up, but she couldn't even see anymore.

However, as if she were hazy, her consciousness blurred and vanished.

(Oh really. Why did this happen?), she thought.

She wanted peace. But that was it. It must have been terribly modest.

It was at that time.

"Reject."

Lowly, a voice echoed out.

When she opened her eyes slightly at being invited by that voice, a black figure appeared in the fire in front of her. She seemed to rush there without hesitation.

No way, because such a burning flame. She couldn't just touch him and be sure.

It sure was a hallucination. It was a convenient illusion, because no one would come to her like this.

The moment she thought that, she felt something put on her head.

She was surprised by the feeling. Her vague awareness woke up and she opened her eyes.

Immediately afterwards, she had the sensation that her body was floating gently.

She didn't scream (she couldn't), but she was in awe.

When she hurriedly raised her face, it was red that was occupying her field of vision.

His red hair swayed from the heat and his red eyes stared directly at her.

Certainly, Suoh. He was the head of the red clan.

She gently touched what she had on her head.

Something with sleeves and black, maybe the school uniform?

Suoh said "Let's go.", while he held her, but did not understand the situation (it was not a hug like holding a princess, but a hug where she felt his arm. As parents do with small children).

Go where? How?

However, she still couldn't say those words.

And it seemed that he did not ask for her consent, and Suoh began to walk with her in his arms without waiting for her response, towards the flame.

It was no longer a scary story, and she reflexively tightened Suoh's shirt and supported her face to cling to his shoulders, but strangely it was no longer hot. The flame that had burned her skin a while ago was completely gone.

On the contrary, the cooling breeze immediately caressed her feet and her hair, and she widened her eyes in amazement.

"Hey! Transfer student!"

At the same time, a strong voice echoed out from the vicinity.

The voice was the same that started the fight, she shook her shoulders and raised her face from him.

His fierce eyes were now terribly anxious, painful, and distorted.

Yata.

Nor did her voice come out.

"You, your hands..."

Yata's expression, who seemed to be terribly surprised, slowly looked at her left hand. Both her blazer and shirt were charred and the back of her hand was swollen red.

Looking around her, the pillar of fire was still there. Behind Suoh and her.

How did they get out of it? What the hell happened?

As he held her in a self-defeating state, Suoh looked around him.

When she turned her gaze from her to him as if she was invited, she saw Munakata and Fushimi holding a saber.

Behind them, people in white uniforms were still busy moving.

Suoh stared at them, raised the edge of his lips and laughed lightly.

"This girl is mine."

Saying that he began to walk calmly.

She had a lot to say, but she couldn't get it right, she couldn't speak, and she closed her eyes softly, clinging to his neck.

"It's a clubroom, but... sorry I rarely use it. It's dirty."

Silky light brown hair. A good man with tender eyes offered her a can of juice and smiled.

"I am Totsuka Tatara. I am a third year student from the red club."

"Totsuka-senpai."

"Yes. You burned yourself, are you okay? How about the infirmary?"

After that, Suoh took her straight to the infirmary.

Her wound was a burn on her left hand. A slight low-temperature burn on her right knee. When she fell, she hurt her left knee a bit. It looked like her left hand was a bit awful.

She let the burns cool, then applied an ointment, covered with a bandage, insured and strap up.

All she had to do is wash, disinfect, and apply an ointment.

The time was about fifteen minutes, but during that period, the members of the red club stayed in front of the infirmary and nobody could get close, so it became a bit of a scandal.

So the nurse told her to rest, but she rejected that and immediately left the infirmary.

At the time, she was surrounded by a group of black school uniforms and in the meantime, she was led into a somewhat crowded empty classroom.

Several desks and chairs were stacked in one corner, and an old black leather couch was placed in the shape of three triangles. Juice cans and bottles were placed on the central floor, and it was really like a "gathering place".

Oh, Suoh? Suoh left her with the nurse and left immediately, but where did he go? He wasn't there either.

He had helped her and she wanted to thank him.

Sitting on one of the couches, Totsuka, who was sitting next to her, offered her some juice and looked at her left hand, which was bandaged.

"The burn on your left hand seems to be a bit terrible. You should go to the hospital after school."

At her words, Yata, who was near the door, made his shoulders explode.

"Yes. I am concerned. I hope there are no marks left."

Scars?

"Scars, what ..."

That didn't matter to her.

When she smiled and shook her head, Totsuka frowned.

"Um...?"

"I have to find a new school again."

"Eh...?"

When Totsuka was surprised, his eyes rounded.

That was a bit strange.

She was sure that this person was also in the yard. It was very strange to see that and not think "why?"

She smiled selfishly and slowly spread her hands.

"I have a power that ordinary people don't have. Did you see it? A while ago, in the courtyard. I did that in the previous school. I broke the school building in half, injuring a lot of people. That made me incapable of stay at the old school."

"……"

"That is exactly what Munakata-senpai said. I hurt a lot of people with my abilities. I have done something irreparable."

People from the red club were looking at her.

"Living as a 'normal person' in this school. Hide the ability. Never let my abilities go crazy. Do not disturb anyone, just control myself, do not stand out anyway and live calmly. That's what I imagined."

But it does not work. No way, and it all happened on the first day.

Oh, no matter how she fixed it, she was a "monster".

"Guh!"

She couldn't do anything else.

It went dark in front of her.

That show that never went away while kept burning in her mind.

Perhaps even a big earthquake happened, a part of the school building was ruined and turned into ruins.

Students who were at that time. A blue sheet placed in the schoolyard. The groan that filled the place. A bloodstained towel. And…

Involuntarily, she clenched her back teeth tightly.

She was unharmed. It was as if she was protected by the light emitted from her body.

A mixed look of amazement and fear towards her. It soon turned into disgust. Neither her friends, her classmates nor her eldest looked at her. They didn't try to get involved. Even the teacher looked away from her.

Even her family was scared and they always tried to be in a good mood. If they were in a bad mood, that house would be destroyed next. Her parents believed they could be attacked.

She lost everything that was important at the time.

She didn't want to repeat that feeling.

"No, wait. Um, Konohana-san, right? You don't have to do that. Konohana-san, you can stay here. Rather, I think you should be in this school. The "Ashinaka Super High School" is a school. where talented people meet."

"Eh? Are you gathering talented people?"

"That's right. Did you ask anyone about extracurricular activities?"

"That is…"

She had heard it.

But it was a story where you could use special abilities when you entered a special club, wasn't it a story that people with abilities met in this school?

At her words, Totsuka understood easily.

"That's right. That's true for most, but some people have the ability before joining the club, like you."

"Ah… Before joining?"

"Yes. It is training. But that is not what I mean. The important thing is that there are many talented people in this school. The skills are both congenital and acquired. That is this. It is the 'normal' of the school. You understand It is not "abnormal"."

"It is normal..."

"Yes, no one discriminates against talented people."

Discriminate?

"But... that person, Munakata-senpai said that I should give up..."

"That's because your ability is a mystery. I think I wanted to have it on hand before the hardships happened. It seems that Strains are rarely born outside of the school island."

Does that mean that she was a "foreigner" among talented people?

"You are so different from other talented people that he wanted to keep you close and monitor you."

She involuntarily clenched her back teeth and squeezed her skirt tightly.

Her burned left hand ached, prompting tears.

Why? Why did he have that ability?

The overflowing sound slid gently down her cheeks, and the voice of Totsuka and the members of the red club breathing in the room echoed out.

She didn't need something like that. That is why she lost everything. On top of that, he said it was different in another way and will likely be a target in the future. Until she surrenders, until she's under his control.

She didn't want to be a talented person. She wanted to be normal.

All she wanted was "peace". That was all.

Normally, she just wanted to enjoy school life every day. Why wasn't even that allowed?

"Usually I want to enjoy school life. I don't need any skills..."

"Uh..."

That's when she told him to leave her and roughly wiped her tears away.

"That was wrong!"

Yata, who had been standing in front of the door until then, suddenly threw himself in front of her and sat on the ground. Then, with a loud voice echoing through the room, he screamed, "It was wrong!", and rubbed his forehead against the floor.

"Eh? Ah…"

"That knife, I threw it at you!"

"……!"

""I threw the knife thrown by the monkey! Well, that's why I was the one who created the opportunity for you to use your skills!"

So it was like that.

But beyond that, she didn't know what to say.

She may have misinterpreted him as angry. Yata looked up and stared at her, then leaned down to slam his forehead hard against the ground again.

"The knife flame was probably me too! I hurt you...!"

But it was probably she who created the pillar of fire, and it was Yata who was injured.

She shook her head and wanted to say it. No, she was trying to say it.

But before that, Yata raised his head again, stared at her and yelled, "I won't let you do that!"

His eyes pierced her and held burning flames.

Dedicated to it, he gasped.

"Yata-kun..."

"Thanks to you, I didn't hurt the average student! And yet my benefactor saved you... Let me make it up to you!"

"Huh? But the wound is..."

"I will never let them monitor and control you! I will not let you do that!"

She involuntarily lost her words at the powerful scream.

"I won't let the blue club do anything! I promise to take care of other departments too!"

There was no hesitation in his hot eyes.

It was a trustworthy word that she could understand from the bottom of her heart and made her heart warm.

"I'll protect you!"

"Ah…"

"It has nothing to do with talented people or Strain! You are you! Enjoying normal school life, it is not allowed to do anything to you! Absolutely!"

"Yata-kun ..."

"Like I said, you'll be fine! So... uh, uh, don't cry, uh... that face..."

Yata lowered his eyebrows as if he was in trouble.

But still, Yata did not take his eyes off her.

"Guh..."

The tears overflowed again.

"What?! Did I say something strange?! Or did your wound hurt?"

Yata fluttered hastily and looked at her.

He was wrong. That was not. What should he do? She was happy.

She was a "monster" and there were people who wanted to "protect" her.

She could have hope and "peace", be "normal". That was forgiven.

She never thought that she would get a word like that.

Oh what should she do? She was happy!

When she brought her hands together, she squeezed her eyes tight.

Yata's worried voice, "Hey, Konohana…" made her heart flutter.

"Ah…"

She was glad. Her heart was full and she couldn't say anything more.

She could not believe it. From that day on, her life was going to change completely. She had experienced it. They hurt her and she suffered. It was still in her, too vivid a memory.

Talented people weren't special. She could stay at this school. She should calm down. Although she was happy with just that word, they would protect her.

She now she was normal.

She could enjoy her school life in peace and safety.

Will she be forgiven? Such thing. Furthermore, she, who caused such an incident...

(Oh, but I don't want to be a "monster" anymore! I'm so scared of myself! I want to recover "every day".), she thought.

"Hmm..."

Nobody said anything anymore.

Yata didn't even say, "Don't cry."

They were all there, silent.

A bell rang on the way to announce the start of classes, but no one seemed to mind that.

He was kind and gentle and surrounded her.

"Konohana?"

Kamamoto looked at her.

After skipping class for an hour, she returned to the classroom with Yata and Kamamoto, but she was scared and she stopped in front of the door.

Kamamoto breathed as she clasped her hands, holding her breath.

"Are you afraid?"

"……"

"Okay. There's Yata-san. I'm also."

"It's true, but..."

"Okay. Maybe there's nothing Konohana should be worried about."

Was that so?

Was it really possible that they saw her with the same eyes as this morning when she knew nothing happened?

"Okay. Come in."

But she couldn't escape.

She couldn't say that she couldn't get into the classroom if she was going to stay at that school.

She took a deep breath and desperately suppressed the tremors in her body.

When she looked up, Yata looked at her and opened the door.

Kamamoto patted him on the back.

She takes a breath and half shaking she enter the classroom.

"…!"

Immediately afterwards, the classroom, which had been noisy until then, quieted down.

At that moment, something cold ran down her back.

Ah! Ah! After all, she couldn't lift her face and closed her eyes. Was when…

"Hey, Saya-chan!"

It was Kukuri's strong voice.

Then there were turbulent steps and they grabbed her by the shoulders.

When she opened her eyes in amazement, Kukuri's crying face appeared right in front of her.

"I was worried! Oh, bandages! You're hurt! Oh, your legs! Do you hurt? Are you okay? I was worried because you didn't come back soon."

Shiro and his friends also run towards her with other classmates.

Was this a reality?

"Kukuri-chan..."

"Thanks for your help on the courtyard! I'm sorry I couldn't thank you right away!"

That said, Kukuri hugged her.

The warmth of her finally made her realize that this was not a dream.

Her back back of her nose hurt, and at the same time, her chest.

"Kukuri-chan... Am I not unpleasant?"

"Hey, why?"

Kukuri looked into her eyes as if she didn't really understand her meaning.

"Because, this ability..."

"Yeah?! I don't believe that at all. You were great as an ally of justice, right?"

"Ah..."

"Because you are a lifesaver, I don't think I could feel uncomfortable. Tell me if there is anyone who thinks otherwise! I will preach for about three hours! Hey?"

At Kukuri's words, Shiro and Yatogami took control.

"Ah..."

Oh, she already understood... what should she do? She was happy.

The exact opposite of the previous school. But it may be that she used to hurt people with her abilities, and this time she protected people with her abilities. Still, it's the same thing that was destroyed here and there with the non-human ability. However, by no means, would it be accepted like this!

"Eh? Saya-chan? Why are you crying?"

"Gohan~? What's wrong? Does it hurt?"

Both of her hands caressed it gently.

That invited more tears.

When she suddenly looked for Yata, he was already moving by the window.

When Yata looked into her eyes, he turned red and turned away from her. That was not the case a little while ago. Kamamoto gave him a small blow.

Finally, she was relieved.

She took a deep breath and put her hand on Kukuri's back.

++++++++++

"Yata-san! I'm here!"

Around the same time that the teacher was leaving the main room, the members of the red club entered and greeted Yata.

"Oh, come in."

"Understood."

"Wow, Saya-chan."

"Eh?"

Wow, she?

As she prepared to go home while glancing at him, she was shocked when she was suddenly called by her name. Surprised, she looked at the boy who was looking at her with a smiling face.

"What?"

"Oh, hi. I'm Chitose Yo. This guy next to me is Dewa. We're sophomores and members of the red club."

"Chitose-san and Dewa-san?"

"Yeah. The blonde over there is Eric. It was a bit noisy to get into the room, I wonder if it would have been better later. Let's go first."

Eh? Where?

"This is your bag."

"Eh?"

"Yes. Princess. Please give me your hand. Right hand. Take your left hand, don't you?"

"Eh?"

What? What was happening?

When she looked at Yata with a feeling of confusion, for no apparent reason, he turned red and turned around. Kamamoto who was next to her raised his hand and said: "Okay."

But that was it. She did not understand the meaning.

As she filled her head with question marks, they gently lifted her up and carried her out of the classroom.

(What? Well, wait. Where are we really going?), she thought.

"Ah, that? Where are we going?"

"Let's go to the red club room."

"Eh? Let's have lunch, that?"

"Oh, no. Not there. It's where we usually hang out."

Eh? Oh, that's right, Totsuka said, "We rarely use the place for lunch."

"Yes. That's right. I'll show you, so follow me."

He asked Dewa to please give him her bag, while Chitose tugged at his hand.

A boy in sunglasses and a hoodie under his school uniform pushed his back.

Behind it was a slim blond boy. Next to them, a boy who seemed to be serious, although his hair was standing on end, seemed to be calm. There were many others.

Yata was the first to walk. Kamamoto followed him diagonally behind.

Kamamoto suddenly turned around and raised his hand saying, "Okay."

Really? No, she didn't think Yata and his friends would do something to her.

But was she worried after all? Because she didn't understand the meaning or the intention.

Why were they trying to take her to the red club?

The appearance of walking surrounded by the members in black school uniforms of the red club seemed strange, and all the students who passed by had round eyes.

"It's unreasonable, it's not good."

Anna Kushina. A mysterious Japanese teacher, a beautiful girl with long straight hair and big red eyes, looked like a girl.

It was Chitose, not Yata, who replied with a smile: "I understand."

Anna nods and passes without stopping.

She looked back over her shoulder and saw Dewa.

"Huh? What happens now?"

"Anna-sensei. Doesn't she know?"

"No, I know. I know."

"Oh, Anna-sensei, the red club advisor."

After thinking about the meaning of her question for a moment, Dewa convinced her. It was true, that's why she couldn't resist.

"We got to the living room. Yes, let's go."

"Ok. You can change clothes yourself!"

Chitose, who tried to be fragile, is hastily stopped and their shoes are changed.

Oh, she's already seen it! She can look at it with a sense of interest!

However, apart from her, they march around her began again, probably because they didn't mind the direct gaze of other students.

She was embarrassed and lightly clasped her hands in front of her chest and denied.

"Oh, should I go to the girls' dorm? I'm out of school, but something..."

Eh?!

"Is this outside of school? Even though it's a clubroom?!"

"I wonder if it is a clubroom or a place that replaces the clubroom."

"Yeah? Well that's..."

"By the way, do you think Anna-sensei and other teachers will get mad when they find out I'm going in there?"

Would they be offended?

When she asked them all of a sudden, not all of them showed a congested expression, they just looked at each other and said, "Okay."

"Yes. It's fine during the day."

She got more anxious.

It was like that, they walked a bit. She went to a bar where they took her.

The name of the store is "HOMRA".

"Homura?"

"Yes. Homura. The common name of the red club."

It was strange. Was the red club commonly known as Homura?

Retro look and nice British flair. The deep, calm red was very impressive. The gold lettering "BAR", the lights and the exterior menu board were very atmospheric and liquorous.

The tenant on the first floor... but the building itself was made of brick and the window frame was dark green. It felt like you were on an English street that you see in the movies.

She knew it was prejudice, but it wasn't a "bad hangout."

"Oh, I see. It's fine during the day because it's a bar."

"Yes, please!"

Chitose opened the door with a smile.

A bright caramel colored wooden counter that can be seen as antique. A wooden floor that squeaked when you stepped on it. A classic that flowed smoothly. Various traditional and elegant interiors. The spacious couch seats looked very comfortable.

At the back of the counter, there were many bottles of liquor.

One person was polishing glasses, had shiny auburn hair and purple glasses. She wondered if he was the age of a college student. He was like an older brother with a big smile.

"Oh, that boy?"

The boy smiled as he watched her enter.

"Then Kusanagi-san, do something sweet."

Perhaps he arrived a little earlier, Totsuka, who came out the back, beckoned her to come.

"Yes, sit there on the couch."

"Eh? Ah, that..."

"Saya-chan, right? You don't like it?"

"Huh? Oh, I can't drink alcohol."

When she answered that while she was sitting on the couch, they looked at her like everyone was shocked for a moment.

Eh?

"Ah, that?"

"Well, did you think they'd be drunk? Well, it's definitely a bar here, right? But it's not good for minors. It's a waste."

She smiled and waved her hand.

She believed that it was different for not drinking because it is not good...

Oh, but that's not what she just said.

She shook her head, looked at Totsuka and then looked back at the young man.

"I thought they were drunk, but it was about making sweets. I'm not good at cakes made with western liquor, nor compotes boiled in alcohol, although I skipped the alcohol and the rum raisins. I mean, sorry. I think I am. I said many words."

"Oh, that's how it is."

"Wow, did you think it was going to be bad?"

"Saya-chan."

She felt bad. In a hurry, he waved his hands and apologized, and put the glass he had polished on the shelf and laughed mischievously.

"If you forgive a man too much, he will eat you, don't you think?"

Eh?!

"Hmm, wait a minute. Look, you guys are scaring the princess, don't you think?"

"Ah, that?"

Eh?! Princess?!

She was surprised to hear that, but the boy started to prepare.

When she looked at Kamamoto, who was standing next to him, Kamamoto said "Oh." and he point to the young man with his hand.

"Izumo Kusanagi. He is a college student at 0B and from the red club. He is the same age as Mikoto. He is the owner of this bar."

What should she be surprised about?

Is he the same age as Suoh? Does that mean Suoh was repeating a year? So he was a college student and a business owner? College student?!

"Kusanagi-san, what about Mikoto-san?"

"He comes in the afternoon, now he is sleeping."

Kusanagi responds without stopping to Yata's question.

"Oh, upstairs? The second floor is also a store?"

"He has nothing to do with the store. He's using the empty room on the second floor as a nap spot. He's the King."

"King..."

"Mikoto-san…"

At Kamamoto's complementary explanation, she looked ahead.

Late? So after that he came there? What? And the lessons?

"The basement is the storeroom for the store and it feels like our gathering place."

"I'll tell you. Even though I'm immersed in this all year, it's never been quiet in the basement and they've interrupted my business."

At Chitose's words, involuntarily, she chuckled softly.

"Oh, now you have a nice smile."

Then Totsuka laughed, gestured with his thumb and forefinger, and looked at her.

"You brought her in because you wanted to see her smile, right? Yata."

"Eh?"

When she looks at Yata sitting on the counter, Yata turned his bright red face and turned around, saying, "Ah, that's not it!" She's been thinking about it since noon, but maybe Yata was really shy?

"Yata-kun, really?"

"Ah...! But I said you would have fun in your school life!"

When asked, Yata yelled as he looked away. His profile was tinted red, and surprisingly the red was turning redder.

He somehow embarrassed her and her cheeks heated up.

"That's right. That's why Saya-chan…"

Chitose knelt on the ground and reached out in front of her.

"Plays with us."

"……!"

"Oh, I said it, it's not because Saya-chan is a Strain. I'm sure she created that pillar of fire. I'm glad she protected the students in general. No, I'm really grateful. I think she is. It does worst thing to do to injure a student in general."

When she shook her shoulders, Chitose rushed to shake her hands and said, "Oh! I don't blame Saya-chan!"

"We want you to join this special club, we have skills too. It's different from you that you didn't even know you had the skills. We got them because we wanted it. I think there is a great responsibility there."

Totsuka looked at her and said calmly.

"That's right. It's like Chitose said."

"Everyone in the red club is grateful to Saya-chan."

"Really...?"

(Wow, thankful to me? Um... why did I do that?), she thought.

She was confused and denied, but everyone was smiling at her.

"Yes. Thank you. Oh, and we're sorry that your hand got hurt, Saya-chan. I'm not saying that because I feel responsible, only Yata got hurt."

"Eh?"

"The rest is fine. Because the red club has a reputation for being bad. It's great that you didn't see us with that kind of eyes, but, above all, seeing those tears and doing nothing would make a man leave."

"Chitose-san..."

"We're having fun. Maximize that out now. I want Konohana-san to have fun. So I thought. That's why you came to this school, right?"

"Totsuka-senpai..."

But, she was a different "Strain".

(I'm happy, but...! But it can be a hassle!), she thought.

However, no one seemed to care about that. Why?

On the contrary, everyone was very happy.

"I'm happy. The first female member! It's the first time I've seen it of all generations, isn't it? Kusanagi-san!"

"Saya-chan. It certainly is. There has never been a female member in the red club. I hope you join the club."

Kusanagi, who came out of the counter, said that and placed a fruit-filled parfait in front of her. It was cute and it looked delicious.

"Yes, here you go."

"Oh, thanks! It looks delicious..."

Well, everything was getting really good. It would be good?

The moment she received the spoon that was offered to her while thinking about it, the floor creaked.

They all looked back in surprise. Kusanagi also laughed and stood up slowly.

"Good morning, Mikoto."

Suoh, who came down from the second floor, yawning sleepily.

No one said anything, and naturally everyone turned away. There was nothing to block his red eyes staring at her.

Great charisma. A bottomless flame.

She shrugged reflectively.

That wasn't horror, it was amazement... she felt a bit shocking.

"……"

Looking at her like this, Suoh scratched his head.

Then he took a little breath and walked over to her silently and sat down casually next to her.

"Hey."

"Oh, yeah!"

"If you feel like it, join."

The hand that reached out in front of her, made her eyes open inadvertently.

She was instantly engulfed in flames, and she gasped.

"Eh?"

"Okay, it's like a rite of passage."

Totsuka told her gently, and she turned to look at him.

"A rite of passage?"

"Yes. Sorry, but it is absolutely necessary to join the red club. There are many people who cannot take that hand and stop joining, but trust."

Totsuka wiped the smile on his lips and looked directly at her.

"Trust me. We, the red club, will never hurt you."

"……"

Looking at Yata, there were some members who seemed a bit concerned, but his gaze was very sincere, determined, direct, and fiery.

She was relieved, it should be fine. She had just met them, but she could believe it. There were no lies in those words. They would protect her. She looked at everyone around her.

They were all staring at her.

She swallowed her breath and looked at him.

That's why? There was no wonder or anxiety.

Without anxiety, she had no reason to be surprised.

This is where her words wanted to come out of her throat.

When she pursed her lips, in the hand that held the flame, she placed her hand.

[katsukikitten]

Back at it again since tumblr didnt want me in the tags the first time

Bakugou was irritable today. Not that his irritability was anything new but every little thing set his skill crawling. His forearms littered with threatening pops as he bared his teeth to anyone brave enough to look his way. 

He figured the only way to get his agitation out was to hit something, anything.

 So he headed to one of the two closest gyms from his small apartment to blow off some much needed steam. The local 24 hour gym that was open to the public was a no go, not just because it was always over crowded but also because he got banned after cussing out some damn extras who were snapping pictures of him instead of working out like one should. Leaving his only other option to be the agency's "gym". 

When he first set foot into the sorry excuse of a gym he demanded a better upgrade for it, if they expected to keep him and Kirishima in top shape. Otherwise he would begin to look elsewhere considering other agencies were dying to have the newest upcoming pro hero in their rankings. The agency obliged, delivering his expectations and more in less than a week. Guess being in the top five really did have its perks. 

The ash blonde pulls his shiny new coupe into the parking garage and finds a spot closest to the entrance. He grabs for his water bottle from the passenger seat before exiting the car, locking his black beauty as he made his way inside.  He swipes his fob over the keypad before it beeps while flashing green, allowing him entrance to the back door of the basement. Walking past the long corridor of support labs that had long since closed to get to the gym. The rooms illuminated by the low light of locked computers, secrets and redesigns stowed away behind bullet proof glass. 

Nearing the end of the dimly lit hall he spies harsh light flooding onto the linoleum floor, indicating that someone seemed to be collecting some major overtime. From his experiences at UA he figured each room would be filled to the brim with over eager support, eccentrically yelling at one another over specs and improvements, sharing their love of science at a volume much too high for Bakugou's taste. Shortly after his hero debut he discovered just how wrong he was about the support labs. He had needed a 2am, mid shift, costume adjustment so he came here, expecting the place to be brimming with brilliant minds only to find one person still working. 

So it should be no surprise that at 10:30 at night there was one room that was clearly occupied. Still a rare curiosity takes over the hot head as he peeks into the room while passing, wondering if he will catch a glimpse of you again. 

He found you odd, as you seemed to be nocturnal or better yet maybe you didn't sleep at all. No need for it as your hunger for knowledge seemed to outweigh any basic human need.

Bakugou had only seen you a handful of times, here and there in passing towards the gym at all hours of the day and night. Maybe it was just coincidence that he would find you hunched over something with this gleam in your eye as you destroyed and rebuilt the item over and over again.  

He shakes his head, he doesn't get it. Doesn't get why you dedicate so much time when no one else in your department seemed to give as much of a damn as you did. Or maybe he did get it, maybe it was similar to how he pushes himself so he can be number one, except yours was just for intellectual stimulation. 

After an hour and a half of throwing weights and punches around and becoming heavily drenched in sweat, Bakugou finally calls it a night. Gulping water from his water bottle before wiping at the sheen that collected on his forehead. He sighs out, before catching himself in the mirror. Smirking as he flexes, letting go a few pops. Admiring not only his improved physique but also his new hair style. Sides faded but top long, ash strands looking borderline messy, as if someone had just caught him and a lover kissing heavily in a dark hall during a house party, their fingers desperately pulling at his hair. 

He reaches for the ceiling in a grunting stretch as a yawn forces its way out. He leaves the gym, switching off the lights before making his way back to the parking garage. A furrow of his brow as he notices the light to your lab is still on, maybe you had forgotten to kill the light when you left or maybe you were still tinkering away.  Crimson eyes peer into the room, spying you as you begin to stretch. Your eyes latch onto his as he watches your expression go from concentrated to elated. You jump from your seat, causing Bakugou's brow to furrow more before you're flinging open the door and yanking at his wrist.

"Wow what are the odds?! Well I guess they would be around 4.64% considering you don't normally frequent this gym but I should also factor in your recent ban raising it up to.." 

"Oi, shitty woman, quit the nerd talk!" He yanks his wrist from your small, delicate hands. Totally unsure of what your name is and even if he did know it, he would sooner address you with an insult than your family name. 

"Ah I forget, not everyone loves numbers. But still I am quite lucky tonight." You beam up at him, hair threatening to fall loose from its haphazardly shaped bun, "You're just the man I needed to see, Bakugou." 

He isn't sure why but a faint blush creeps to his cheeks, was it your bright smile that threw him so off guard or was it the way your lips formed around his name?

He sucks his teeth, looking away from you with crossed arms. 

"Well I'm sweaty as fuck, so you really don't need me." He huffs but before he can turn on his heel you're clamping cool black metal to his forearms. You guide him to the door to the testing area of your lab, turning his arms this way and that to make sure your measurements are perfect as you ramble on. 

"No! No! That is the perfect condition for this experiment. I've been working on your winter costume since there are deficiencies with your current one. Since you, and I'm sure you already know, sweat less in the winter there needs to be some sort of counter balance to offset the possibility of little to no stored sweat. Preventive measures could be made sure and you collect sweat from previous activities but 'stale' sweat does not ignite as quickly or as violently as fresh sweat. One could argue that using heavier and denser materials could help aid in more sweat production but this risks overheating should a mission need you inside or a rapid change in environment all together outweight any benefit. So not only are these bracers less obnoxious than your gauntlets, no offense, but they collect 56 to even 62% more of expandable sweat compared to the normal 54% all while reducing the amount needed for ignition. Sure my colleagues could say that's a marginal improvement at best but…" Heat radiates off of him in waves, pulling your eye upwards. You're met with a red hot gaze that seems to rake over your skin. An odd chill runs down your spine as you realize your mistake. 

Nerd talk.  And rambling nerd talk at that. 

All the while Bakugou wonders why your hands are so damn cold and yet they feel good, soothing to his warmed skin. Refreshing even as it reminds him of a passing breeze in the summer or hiding in the shade from the sun.

A bit of heat rushes into your cheeks as you suddenly realize how close you are to THE Ground Zero. Someone who you knew so intimately through paper and yet knew nothing about all at the same time. You knew his measurements, the circumference of his head, his biceps, the number of inches around his thighs. Hell, you had them memorized since the big boss upstairs assigned you his costume and accessories well over a year ago. And yet you couldn't even fathom to name his favorite color or favorite food for that matter.

You swallow thickly, clearing your throat as you move on, dropping his deadly hands as you do.

"Ah, anyway, these bracers are designed to help with not only better sweat collection in both summer and winter but to aid in some stealth missions as they make no sound compared to your heavy gauntlets." You smile at him once more causing his stomach to flip before those small icy hands press harshly into his toned hot back, pushing him into the testing chamber behind diamond glass. 

"I just need you to test them. I need to make sure they can withstand your heat and power." With that you shut him away, quickly trotting to the mic on the other side. Pressing the button to speak as he turns his arms over looking at the smooth black material 

"Now, remember, it takes less sweat. So don't go all out!" At first you worry it falls on deaf ears before he gives a nod your way. Suddenly you are in awe of the power house that stands before you as his expression changes from utter agitation to complete determined focus, all with something as simple as a deep breath out. He focuses on producing enough sweat to ignite, calling on his quirk as if it were an extension of himself. Pooling it onto his skin, permeating the air with the slight smell of burnt sugar before he let's go a small pop. 

But the medium sized explosion he had expected was anything but what was produced.  Suddenly the brace on his arm explodes from the pressure as does the diamond glass in the room. Fear grips Bakugou as shards of glass go flying towards you before you flick your wrist harshly.  

The deadly shards bypass you, glistening shrapnel sinks deeply into the tile floor around you like a piece of jagged art.

And yet you seem unphased, delighted even as a manic smile paints your lips before it sours. Eyes noticing that the bracer barely stood up to the challenge. 

"Fuck…the density still cannot withstand the joules output or force that Bakugou is capable of…" A string of murmurs that remind him all too much of Deku as your fingers curl in the air, calling forth the failed experiment with unseen forces. The blonde long forgotten as you hunch over the workbench, going back to square one. 

Crimson eyes dissect your form and actions as you pull various books and tools towards you with the influence of your quirk, hovering around the work space. 

Suddenly you feel heat radiating behind you when normally you're enveloped in the cool air of the air conditioning, kept extra low in the labs to prevent overheating of parts. You look over your shoulder, suddenly remembering the Pro hero who's beginning to wonder why you're in support with a quirk like that. 

"I know, I know. The last bus and train left hours ago. I'll catch them in the morning." You guess at why he's lingering as you wave him off with your hand. He's caught off guard by your statement before he notices the clock, going to open his mouth to scold before snapping it shut. 

Why should he care if you work through the night? What was he gonna do? Offer you a ride when he didn't even know your name? 

He sucks his teeth biting out as he leaves. 

"Just call me when you're ready to test these again." 

Weeks pass and it's as you never left the lab. Glued to the same spot as he tests the product every other week only for you to grow more and more frustrated with each failure punctuated by shattered bracers. 

And every time he enters the lab room he learns something new about you. He can tell when or if you've left the lab for longer than a few minutes by how tidy the space is or lack thereof. A chaotic circle encompasses you filled with random items that you hope will ignite a spark of inspiration. Anything from books to thin sheets of metal and even to soft fabrics that haphazardly lay atop metal tools. Anything one could possibly imagine was probably there, sitting along-side several empty cups that once held iced coffee. He notices the bags beneath your eyes as they darken with each passing week and he's beginning to wonder if you've ever left as he leaves anywhere between 12 to 3am most nights. 

Tonight is no different as he makes his way to the gym at midnight while you're hunched over his bracers. A part of him wants to tell you to stop being an idiot, to rip you from your little stool and drag you to your bed or wherever the fuck you'll sleep as the other part points out 'why do you fucking care?' So he watches silently, eyes fixated on you until he runs out of glass to look through before he locks himself away in the gym. 

Bakugou puts in his black wireless earbuds before cranking his music up, tossing his phone onto a nearby workbench. He stretches this way and that, reaching for the sky as he looks at his form in the mirror, his hard earned V and bottom two abs wink at his reflection beneath his signature black tank top and his black hoodie. 

His fist connects easily with the heavy black bag suspended by a large chain. The sandbag swings back and forth with a creak with each heavy handed blow. Bakugou loses time with each kick and hit thrown at the bag, each passing song fueling his desire to melt his frustration until his hair is plastered to his forehead. He lets out a steadying breath as his heart roars in his chest,he rears his fist back for a final blow backed by a bit of his quirk. It connects with the well worn leather with such force a weak link in the chain snaps as the fabric obliterates, the 200lb bag flies into the mirror behind it. Shards of reflective glass glitter as they rain onto the matted floor. 

"Fuck." He huffs, stretching and turning to the opposite mirror. Sending a quick snap of his tongue out with the caption "Oops" as the background showcases the decimated gym to Kirishima. He picks up his bag, removing his ear buds to be met with the cool air of the hallway. 

Your light is still on causing him to grind his teeth as his phone reads 2:45am. He's angry enough he chooses to avoid looking into your enclosure as he walks past, fearful his sharp tongue will give him away. He misses you perk up, frantically waving for him to come in before you're at the door, flinging it open to yell out much too loudly in the empty halls. 

"Bakugou!" Your voice is hoarse and cracks from disuse before you clear your throat, lightly jogging to catch up to his large stride, "I've done it!" 

He ignores you, lips pursed in a tight line before your cold hand wraps tightly around his wrist. Pulling him back to the lab with eager steps. He rips away his wrist with a growl and follows you reluctantly, you seem unphased by his harsh actions. 

"I've finally perfected it. I'm sure this time. I was looking at it all wrong. Larger surface area does not always equate to better absorption. Not to mention the pressure for the explosions beneath the bracer is what was causing the failure in the first place. A marginal error that I should have caught earlier. This new design covers less than 15% of your skin but increases…." You ramble but it all falls on deaf ears. 

Bakugou sees that your hair is so loose in its ponytail it might as well be down. The bags beneath your eyes weigh heavy on your pretty features, your skin showing signs of dehydration as it seems to have lost some of its elasticity. Your lab coat is wrinkled and your nametag, that you're wearing for once, is pinned on upside down. He commits your name to memory although he finds it odd that it must be your first name instead of your family name, then again you do hail from overseas. As the two of you walk into your lab he realizes instantly that it has become your main living space. Shards of diamond glass still litter your floor, there is no rhyme or reason to the placement of objects.  Tools, and trash commingle in dangerous piles and stacks around the room. Something knits itself as it floats in the air, wavering a bit when you pause your rambling to yawn.

"Oi nerd!" Bakugou's voice is sharp, authoritative as he grips onto your wrist. Eyes still washing over the room before they land on you. Somehow you're too daft or too tired to pick up on his concern. 

"Yea yea nerd talk. I fucking get it." A half snap from your exhaustion, "Just…" 

You lose his grip before grabbing onto his arm, finding a mesh woven bracer somehow on that disastrous desk. It seems to be made of a soft, elastic fabric as you slip it over his thick forearm after shoving away his sweatshirt sleeve.

"Perfect, your sweat output was pretty close to max earlier. I could smell caramel from the gym. This is going to be so fucking great!" You giggle in delight as the other mesh bracer finishes itself, dropping before you frantically reach for it. He notices your faulty step, your under the breath curse and the long moment your eyes flutter. He almost bites his tongue clean off. 

Again your cool hands find his burning skin as you try to keep your tired brain focused on the task at hand and not how his forearms have grown nearly a half inch since your first encounter. It's difficult not to fall victim to his intoxicating smell as you force yourself to not sway on your feet and collapse into a lovely muscular man. His heat seems to have some sort of affect on you, causing an odd affinity between you both.

"Okay all done! Please give a medium sized blast!" You encourage, shoving him into the testing chamber as he glares down at you. He isn't sure why your chaotic state is bothering him but it does. He rolls his eyes as you slam the door shut. He brings clarity to his mind, focusing on his quirk and how the sweat feels against his skin. How it yearns to be something more, to explode into a whispering flame that may catch something ablaze. 

He gives in, just a little, giving it what it wants, igniting it with a simple thought. An explosion he would have considered large if he were still at UA but since all he's done is grow these past five years, earning him the number 3 rank, it comes to no surprise when the glass shatters yet again. 

Except this time you're too entranced with the smoke clearing, of seeing if your baby you've slaved over has made it through to comprehend the sharp threat. You notice the flying glass a moment too late, flicking your wrist to change the trajectory from what was supposed to be your entire body but your arms are grazed by the razor sharp shards. You grit your teeth, cursing to yourself calling forth a first aid kit. 

But nothing shows up in your peripheral except for a looming presence. One you give your back to in order to find the first aid kit with your gaze, when was the last time you ever had to look at something to summon it? 

Damn it, how could you be experiencing quirk failure from exhaustion right now? Sure it took a lot of brain power for your quirk but it takes weeks of no sleep for a failure plus you had been eating...your eyes glance around the room. You hadn't been eating, or so it says from the lack of any sort of plate or take out aside from your iced coffees with the added protein and carbohydrate shots your body needed to process your quirk with ease. 

Fuck, guess it really was quirk failure. You bite your lip, unable to find that damned kit hoping the hot head wouldn't catch on to your short coming. 

Vermillion eyes watch crimson spots bloom across the white fabric of your coat. He grinds his teeth, searching for the first aid kit only to find it knocked beneath a shelf. He rights himself, stalking your way with a grimace just to stop in his tracks. He watches you slip your oversize jacket off of strong shoulders, toned arms adorned with several thin slices that weep red, but what has really caught his attention was that body con dress. 

Sticking to you like a second skin, but looking somehow comfortable at the same time, he wonders for a moment if you've made it yourself. It's similar to the fabric used to make his shirts, breathable, soft, always smelling a bit sweet like you when they are fresh from the lab. His hand twitches as he can imagine how supple your curves would feel in the delicate yet sturdy material, palm already too familiar with the soft sensation. Red catches his eye once again pulling him from the trance that is your body. He sneers at the cuts as he grabs onto your cold shoulder, shoving you into your chair so he can work on you. You look up a bit shocked with a pinch of anger mixed in and a dash of hurt pride. He takes no notice as he wraps bandages tight around your arms, your eyes locked onto the bracers. The smile on your face cannot be helped as you stare proudly at your work, it was able to withstand so much power and remain not only in tact but unsinged. You grab onto his wrist turning it this way and that, a pen and pad float near by as you take notes. Bakugou cannot hide his astonishment as he watches the invisible hand borrow your neat yet rushed script as it is unable to keep up with your thoughts. You pull the bracers from his arms, fabric begins to tear itself thread by thread before spooling itself, wrapping around wood as if it were a snake. He pulls away, eyes hard as he talks himself out of whatever the stupid "heroic" side of him is saying. He takes a step back and with it taking his warmth. You shiver but you are too busy to notice, teeth chattering ever so slightly but you're too busy studying. He growls to himself. 

Suddenly you're enveloped in a dizzying sweet smell and warmth, it is then you realize that Bakugou had shoved his hoodie over your head. Slinking your arms into the holes to move the hood of the sweatshirt back, quickly realizing the material is not damp as you had once thought. It's warm from his quirks use, material dry as a bone, reminding you of pulling your favorite blanket fresh from the dryer just to wrap yourself in it as rain taps on the window of your apartment. 

Subconsciously you snuggle into it, opening your mouth to state how much work you have to do but instead you have to stifle a yawn. 

Had the cold of the lab always kept you awake, were you starting to actually feel the weight of your work only because you were warm? 

"I think it's time for bed, nerd." 

He places his hot palm on the back of your neck in a power move as he speaks. He enrages you and entices you all at once as your face snaps up to meet his gaze, your own eyes burning holes into him. He smirks down at you, deciding in this moment that he really likes you.  

"I'm taking you home. Get your shit." He squeezes your nape as a warning. He isn't taking no for an answer.

"I'll take the bus and train in the morning, three hours is child's play." Hitting his hand away, trying to return to your work. He scoffs in response. 

"You sure are oblivious for someone so smart. Tomorrow is Saturday." He crosses his exposed arms, unable to hide his smug smirk as realization washes over your stunning features, "That means the bus won't be in the business district til 10am." 

"I think I'll be okay." You say after a moment of silence, "I've waited longer. Or I could walk..." 

"Will you?" He retorts, "Your office says otherwise." 

You follow his gaze, your entire office in disarray, as if a bomb went off. 

You guess in a sense one had gone off. Biting your lip as you mull it over, eyes finding Bakugou's file shuffled across your desk, spying your own hand written cliff notes. 

Stubborn your script reads, you sigh admitting defeat as you wave your hand over the file. It tidies itself, papers folding neatly back into the Manila folder before you snap your fingers. 

Bakugou watches items soar around the room, books fighting and bickering over their order, pens and pencils long forgotten in corners of the room race back to their place on your desk. Papers flutter and fall into the trash or shredder in defeat as plastic cups sink into the plastic bin in the corner. The diamond glass follows suit as your own hands grab onto the bracers, giving them a gentle squeeze before you access an invisible drawer on your desk, hiding away your project before pushing it back. Wood flush against wood as if there were no drawer at all. 

A question burns on the tip of Bakugou's tongue, it dies in his throat for now as a new one is born. 

"That Kirishima's faceplate?" The question comes out in the form of a bite, for some reason the thought of his more likeable friend coming in here as often as Bakugou has set his blood boiling. 

"Ah yes, I just got this assignment from the big boss. Kirishima's new unbreakable breaks his faceplate everytime. Otto had it before me, which was odd. He is more of a reverse engineer. Taking an unknown material and figuring out how it works." Your eyes linger over the empty office across the way, "But he's been out and Kirishima can apparently no longer be on the back burner. Especially now that I've finished with the company's top hero." 

His heart melts just a bit as he watches a smidge of pride form in your dazzling eyes. He scoffs to change the topic.

"Come on, shitty woman." He guides you to the parking garage. 

Once there he acts out of character. At least what you would believe to be out of character as he holds open the door to his car for you, waiting for you to step in. 

"What?! I ain't fucking kidnapping you but I ain't letting you weasel out of this shit either." He growls, waiting impatiently by the door. You step in as he gently shuts the door behind you. He steps in himself, the engine purrs to life as you give him your address. 

"That far out? And you were gonna fucking walk?" He laughs, "Hell no, never again. You'll call me before you do that next time." 

"I don't have your number asshole." You grumble to yourself but he grabs your unlocked phone from your hands, plugging in his number and calling it. 

"There now you do." He locks it and puts it in his cup holder, demanding your attention. No longer can he keep that burning question to himself, "Why are you on support?" 

It puzzles you for a second before you realize he means it as a compliment to your quirk and not an insult to your intellect. 

"Oh that's easy. Being a hero wouldn't benefit me, it's too restrictive. I'm more of a…." You ponder on your words, vigilante was wrong, you wouldn't take justice into your own hands for the sake of others and villain was too strong, "Chaotic neutral. My moral compass is pretty grey and being in this lab benefits my need for knowledge." 

Bakugou glances your way, respectful of your honesty while your eyes become heavy watching the street lights blur, the hum of the engine pulling you deeper into relaxation.  There was something about a car ride that took you back to your childhood days in America.  The outskirts of the city would quickly wind into back roads lined with corn stalks that scrapped the sky. 

The street lights slowly became fewer and farther in between as the black coupe took you further from the heart of the city, soon more stars began to dot the sky.  You see just the tip of his zodiac constellation, it stirs a question within you. 

"So why do you want to be a hero?" You keep your eyes focused on the backdrop that lies beyond the tinted glass, missing Bakugou's knuckles turn stark white. 

He doesn't speak and that's answer enough for you.  

It took him an hour to get to your side of town, an hour. One you had said you would walk, one you mentioned you had walked before. He pulls up the sidewalk by your building, turning to you. 

"We're here…" His announcement turns into a sigh as he sees your slumped form. Head limp but thankfully not leaning on the glass as you're snuggled into his hoodie. You're murmuring how you need to update your measurements in your sleep causing Bakugou to roll his eyes. He pulls away to parallel park. He debates, should he wake you? 

No, who's to say you wouldn't attempt tor eturn to your work? He sighs, pocketing your phone and pulling the lanyard out of your purse that has, what he assumes,your house key on it. 

Katsuki's blood runs ice cold in his veins as realization sucker punches him square in the chest. He had NO fucking idea which apartment was yours. He turns your key over and over but why would that have the number on it? 

"Fuck." He would have to pray your mailbox was both clearly labeled and inside. He shoulders your purse before scooping you into his arms, sure to cradle you like the princess you are. 

He steps through the automatic doors, relief washes over him as a wall of mail boxes greet him. Better yet, they were neatly labeled with names AND apartment numbers.

But it is not long lived as his red eyes rake over the names, the family names, last names. He only knew your first and of course, of fucking course the Gods would laugh at him as panic rises in his throat. You had to have the most common first initial didn't you?  He had spotted it six times already but none of the last names seemed out of the ordinary, if anything they were all ordinary, run of the mill Japanese last names. Nothing foreign about them. 

"Fuck." He murmurs, plan B wouldn't work either, he can't just try out every fucking apartment with your first initial, how weird would that be, some guy shoving keys in random doors with a passed out woman in his arms. 

"Fuck." He cusses again. Was he going to have to take you to his apartment? Fuck, fuck fuck! He couldn't do that, the press slunk around his apartment like vultures, even at this hour.

"Oh you must be the guy that's been keeping her up so late at night." A voice sounds behind him, he turns towards the sound. A smaller young man smiles at him as if he and Bakugou share an inside joke. 

"Quite nice of you to bring her home, and get her mail." He laughs softly reaching for something in the desk, he approaches slowly, "But she must have forgotten to tell you she lost her key a couple of weeks ago. She always asks me to get the mail instead of paying the lost key fee. Don't blame her though." 

The desk clerk, Wantanabe, rambles on as Bakugou's sharp eyes watch closely. Silently thanking the Gods' for their blessing as he watches Watanabe slide the spare key into your mail slot. He commits your last name to memory, but more importantly 5C burns into his retinas. 

"...she hasn't been home in four weeks,  so she has a lot of mail." That snaps Bakugou back to the present, a small stack of mail is presented to him. He stares down at your form unable to keep the scowl off of his face. The dark circles beneath your eyes seem to become darker by the second. 

"Thanks." He growls through gritted teeth, snatching the mail as best he can without disturbing you. He looks for an elevator and when he sees he will have to climb five flights of stairs he wonders if this is the reason you don't come home often. 

Soon enough 5C is staring Bakugou in the face. He is hesitant, even if he does bring you home safely he wonders if you would misread his actions. As the saying goes, no good deed goes unpunished. Still his hands move quickly, sliding the key into the door and unlocking your mysteries. The apartment is sizable for the area, clean at least what he can see from the light of the hall flooding in. He flips on a switch with his elbow, he expected harsh light but instead ambient string lights that line the ceiling illuminate the space in a warm light. A three chair island with a marble water fall looks out into the living room, a large sectional couch swallows the space, a TV atop a nice entertainment table while books litter the coffee table and one part of the couch. The apartment feels as if it had been warmed by the sun through the drawn curtains but not overly hot, it feels cozy really.  As if Bakugou could imagine himself spread out on the grey sofa while you're curled against him, half dozing half reading your book. 

The thought jarrs him, he feels too close to you now, feverish almost as he rips your key from the door, shutting it softly before placing the lanyard onto the kitchen island. He spies a hall and passes a full bath, then a freshly vacant guest room to see a final door closed that he assumes is the master. He flips the switch and again light snakes around the ceiling washing the room in this comfort. He can understand the soft yellow lights considering you spend forty plus hours beneath harsh, bleaching white lights. He pulls back the comforter as best he can and lies you down gently. He removes your red bottom heels and praises the Kamisama when he sees you do not have on tights not that he would remove them anyway. You snuggle deeper into his hoodie, smiling as you do, dreaming of whatever little scientist's dream about. Katsuki imagines it's all math, measurements, molecular structures, nerd shit. You begin to murmur in your sleep.

"...gotta update his chart…" 

"Fucking nerd." Bakugou smiles to himself, you look peaceful even as your mind races with reminders. Another snuggle deeper into his hoodie, he goes to reach out to push hair from your face and stops himself. 

"What the fuck am I doing?" He growls aloud, he doesn't know you. Barely figured out your last name and that was by both chance and stupidity on the desk clerk's. He heads for your bedroom door, stopping with his hand gripping the handle. He peers over his shoulder before killing the switch, flooding your room with darkness. 

He shuts the door and with it the odd ache that's growing in his chest. 

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (part 17)

Title: Touch my Wings (and watch as they melt from the sun)

Summary: Ranboo is healing. Tommy is not.

Phil finally comes face-to-face with his consequences.

Chapter One

Chapter Eighteen

Masterlist

_____________ It was a few weeks later when Technoblade walked into the living room and plopped down on a chair, a heavy book clutched in his hold. It was still fairly dusty, but by the look of the worm pages, it used to be much dustier.

Ranboo looked up from where he was reading. “Hey, Technoblade.” His shoulders didn’t tense up, his voice didn’t waver. He wasn’t completely comfortable, but his body didn’t scream at him to run. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress, and that was what was important.

“Just the hybrid I was looking for,” Technoblade greeted back. “I’ve found you some answers.”

There was a pause. “Answers to what?” Ranboo racked his memory, but couldn’t for the life of him remember ever asking Technoblade anything.

“Answers to why you had more than one thin day in a row?”

Ranboo’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought about that. “Techno,” he asked hesitantly, “how much sleep have you gotten in the past few weeks while you’ve been researching?”

An uneasy chuckle was the only answer that he got.

“Techno,” he said a little more forcefully, a little more harsh. “How much sleep.”

The piglin snorted. “Not a lot. But that doesn’t matter-”

“Yes it does!” Ranboo protested. “You can’t just let yourself waste away, Techno.”

“How else am I supposed to show that I care?” he responded defensively.

It was quiet for a beat. “You care?”

Techno looked at Ranboo and nodded. “Of course I do. I know that we don’t have a good past, but… you’ve made me more human, you and Phil. I cry more, I feel remorse for the lives I’ve taken or almost taken, I have emotions now. I’m not all the way good, but I’m getting there, and I’m sorry that it took you almost dying for me to realize that I wasn’t on the good side.”

Neither knew what to say. 

“Well.” Techno said. “About my research.”

“Yeah, yeah, your research.” Ranboo nodded, leaning forward. 

“This book was a whole lot of nonsense, but there were some good passages.” Techno explained. “Basically, thin days are more than just a thing hybrids go through. It’s kind of like a bonding moment that makes you stronger, if that makes sense, but it only happens when the hybrid part of you feels safe, so for instance, you guys all feel safe here. And, families tend to have thin days near each other because when other hybrids are there, your hybrid is reassured that it's safe.”

Ranboo nodded. “So, since I haven’t, uh. Since I haven’t really had a thin day on this server…”

“You never felt safe enough to. And, since you never have them, your enderman side is desperate to develop. So, when your non-enderman side wants to take the wheel, it can’t.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” Ranboo shrugged. “Oh, have you heard from Kristin recently?”

Techno winced. “Yeah. She hasn’t quite warmed back up to me yet, but I think she’s out flying with Purpled. There aren’t people dying because of wars right now, so she’s got free time.”

As if on cue, Death and Purpled walked in. Purpled was running around excitedly, and his wings flared out behind him.

“Ranboo!” He greeted, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Purpled!” Ranboo returned. “Have fun?”

“Yeah! My wings are so cool, and they’re purple, so they match my brand-”

“Those are blue, though.” Techno interjected.

Ranboo squinted. “No, those are purple. I don’t know what you’re seeing, Techno.”

Tommy strolled in to see what the commotion was about. “What’re we arguing about? I’m right, and you are all wrong.”

“What color are my wings?” Purpled asked.

“I dunno, blue?”

They never came to a conclusion, or maybe they did. Tommy didn’t stick around to find out, though. He was hungry, so he rifled through the pantry to find something to snack on. 

“Hey, Tommy.”

He turned. “Oh, hey Fundy. How’s the castle repairs going?”

The fox smiled. “They’re going really well, actually. Eret has a bunch of rooms in it if you guys ever want to visit.”

“Pog!” Tommy said. “Are you going to stay there or here? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, but have you thought about it?”

Fundy hesitated. “I was thinking about staying with Eret, actually. Do you think Sam will be mad?”

“Of course not,” Tommy reassured. “Just don’t be a stranger. We’ll come visit you, too. I promise. Next week, maybe? Tomorrow?”

“Whenever.” Fundy said, clearly feeling better. “I’m going to go find Sam. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Tommy responded, turning back to his hunt for snacks as he listened to the fading footsteps.

Another pair approached him.

“Hey mate.” Phil said, getting a glass of water.

Tommy tensed. “Hey.”

Phil was about to leave, then sucked in a breath. “Tommy, your wings look awful. Whose been preening them?”

“Whoever is nearby. I think they do fine,” Tommy said defensively. 

“They could use some work,” Phil insisted. “Why don’t you let me preen them? Everyone’s out of the living room.”

Was that meant to reassure him? That no one was there to act as a buffer? As much as Tommy wanted to forgive Phil, he knew Ranboo would, too easily. He needed to be cautious because Ranboo forgave too quickly, and yeah, maybe he was also hiding from the hurt that he felt because of Phil by focusing on Ranboo’s, but…

Phil looked so hopeful.

He didn’t want to, he really didn’t, but the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I guess, yeah.”

It all felt so wrong, sitting down on the floor to let Phil touch his wings. They wanted to fold up and refuse to open, but Tommy forced them to stretch out. He grimaced as Phil announced he’d be starting, and hoped that it would feel nice. Preening always felt nice, right?

Phil put a hand on one of Tommy’s wings, and it took everything in him to not swat it away. It felt irritating, like a piece of sand between your toes or a snarl in your hair as you tried to brush it out. It was bearable, though, and if it made Phil happy, then it was worth it. 

It was bonding, right?

Then, it got worse. Phil’s fingertips left the feathers aching a little bit, almost stinging, and Tommy shifted a little. It was fine. He could deal with it. Phil was probably almost done, right?

Phil asked him if he was okay, and he grunted. The pain got worse. It hurt, it hurt so bad, and whereas preening usually felt nice and lulled him to sleep, this time it felt like when you stub your toe. Except it was his entire wing.

It only got worse. He wanted it to end, but he was scared that if he opened his mouth, he’d vomit. The nausea gathered in his stomach and crawled up his throat, forcing him to ignore the stabbing feeling that happened whenever Phil touched his wing. 

He just had to deal with a little more. Phil was done with the edges, it was time for the part that always felt the best when Sam or somebody else preened his wings. It would feel good, right?

It didn’t. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tears gather in his eyes. He wanted it to stop, but if he said anything, he knew he would start crying. It hurt so bad, so incredibly bad, and he just sat there. 

Phil was humming happily, and Tommy nearly yelled at him to stop. Everything was so much more… annoying, suddenly. The humming was too loud, his shirt was too itchy, his leg wasn’t positioned comfortably, his throat hitched with every breath. He hated it.

After a particularly bent feather was corrected, Tommy cried out a little bit. 

“...Tommy?” Phil asked. “Are you alright?”

“Please stop.” He managed to choke out, and the hands on his wings were lifted away almost immediately. He managed to stumble out of the room before the tears started to fall, but he didn’t miss the way that Phil’s disappointed, almost betrayed, gaze burned his back.

Tommy went down the hall and found Ranboo in the bedroom. “Ranboo,” He called out, and hesitated.

“What happened?” Ranboo asked. “Are you okay?”

Tommy shook his head, and the tears fell quicker now, accompanied by a few desperate chirps and hiccups. 

“Oh, Tommy,” Ranboo said, patting the bed. “Come here, Do you want to talk about it?”

He flopped onto the covers and buried his head in a pillow. “Phil tried to preen my wings. I let him, because he just looked so hopeful that we were going to finally be family again, but it just-” A small trill interrupted his rambling before he picked back up, “It felt so wrong, and then it started to hurt, and Ranboo it hurt so bad, and I thought I was going to barf, and-” He continued slower this time. “What if that’s just how preening feels? What if every time I need to take care of my wings, it hurts? What if I never can feel that safe again?”

“Do you want me to try?” Ranboo asked softly. “I’ll stop as soon as you tell me to, I promise.”

Tommy thought for a minute, but nodded. “Please?”

His body slumped with relief as soon as Ranboo started petting the feathers and before he knew it, he was purring. He mumbled out something, and Ranboo must’ve taken that to mean stop.

Tommy whined and pushed his wing back against Ranboo’s hand. “Don’t stop. It feels nice.”

“Okay, Tommy.” Ranboo chuckled, and started the preening again. 

“We should take a vacation to see Fundy,” Tommy hummed.

Ranboo nodded, and responded. “Yeah, I haven’t seen Niki in a while. When do you wanna go?” It was silent. “Tommy?”

Tommy was fast asleep, his face content and relaxed. Ranboo smiled, and stayed with him until he woke up.

Phil, however, had gone back to his house with Techno that they’d built not far from Sam’s base. He sat by the window, unmoving, until Techno came in for the night.

“Phil? Are you okay?”

He turned his head to look at Techno and shook his head. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-” His throat was dry. “I offered to preen Tommy’s wings because they looked like they needed it, and I thought it would be a good bonding time. It went okay, but then he made a noise and asked if he was okay, and- and my touch hurt him, Techno. I’m not- Not only does he not consider me part of his flock, not even deep down, but my touch hurts him.” He rested his head in his hands. “When did I fail so bad?”

Techno didn’t say anything.

Phil ignored the tears that gathered in his eyes. “Maybe Kristin was right that I didn’t feel bad, yet. I didn’t realize, really, the impact of my actions, but now- Techno, how do I fix this?”

Techno looked back to meet Phil’s teary gaze. “You do the best that you can, Phil, and if Tommy still can’t forgive you, then you live with it.”

“I just live with it?”

Techno shrugged. “What else can we do?”

[tiny-slasher]

Billy Lenz x Reader | Coffee Shop AU | Part 2

(Mild blood tw)

The lights were beginning to worsen the never-ending headache Billy always seemed to have. They were too bright- and if the loud music blasting in his ears wasn't bad enough, the crowd of people loudly conversing sure was. Overly loud noises never managed to drown out the bad thoughts from Billy's mind...it just made them yell louder.

"Sorry, your drink is almost finished!"

Billy just glared at them, even folding his arms to make a point. Nearly ten whole minutes of his life wasted on waiting for a drink he probably wouldn't even enjoy. He prided himself in being able to brew quality beverages, even if his customers didn't have enough tastebuds to appreciate them. There was no way this...person could possibly outdo him. Their customers probably only came for the horrible music, and loud laughter of others. Overrated, and extremely irritating.

"Here you go! One latte," they said, giving Billy that smile. "Sorry, it's a lot busier here today than usual. You picked a heck of a day to come visit!"

"S'fine," Billy said, grabbing his to-go cup and giving them a wide and plastic smile.

"You okay? You look a little pale..."

"...S'loud."

They nodded in reply, wringing their hands a bit guiltily. As Billy sipped on his latte (which was disgusting), they leaned over the counter and gave him a kind smile.

"I was going to close up early today anyway, if you still feel like sticking around?"

Stick around? In this nightmare?? Who the hell did they think they were-

"Okay."

Fuck.

They had the nerve to wink at him as they went back to work. It made Billy want to vomit. If it weren't for the small child picking out a cookie not five from him, he would have, if only to see the look on their face - see if they winked and gave him that sickening smile after that! As it was, they would steal glances in his direction every so often, oblivious to the compulsions running through Billy's thoughts, and itching at his fingertips.

They should be thankful he had recently started working on that in therapy, otherwise they'd have been in a real mess. Literally.

Billy tapped his foot, watching the way the faux leather of his boot shone in the harsh lights above him, too dull to reflect the scowl on his face. Despite the atmosphere, Billy felt himself less bothered by the ordeal than he'd expected.

That was beginning to change with the increasingly loud complaints from the child near him.

"I don't want- I want the cookie! Mama, please- are you listening? I don't want a muffin! MAMA!"

Billy slammed his drink onto the counter before his fist, now clenched from annoyance, could crush the cup. As it was, some of his latte splashed out and hit him on the back of the hand.

"Take these again, for to the noble mind. Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind," Billy mumbled, clenching his jaw.

He felt them turn to look at him, and he wondered if they had actually heard him over the loud, obnoxiously generic jazz music blasting throughout the room. He couldn't bring himself to look at them, knowing it would only overwhelm him to do so. Still, the hairs on his neck stood up as he continued to ramble, trying to drown out everything and regain some composure.

Slowly, he felt his heart rate slow, and his nerves calm. He managed to relax his hands enough to stretch out his fingers, sighing at the feeling of his joints releasing. He straightened his back, took in a deep breath, and-

His leg nearly gave out as the whining kid shoved themself into his side, completely ignoring him and continuing to complain about their mother's choice of muffin. Billy's hands gripped the counter as he nearly fell to the ground, and narrowly avoided splashing scalding hot coffee all over himself and the child beside him. The kid glanced in his direction once, but then continued to pay him no mind - clearly focused on getting the dessert he wanted, instead of apologizing.

There was a loud ringing in Billy's ears as he grit his teeth and clenched his fists, angry and humiliated at not only being knocked over, but being ignored. Not even the kid's mother paid any mind to him, or apologized on their behalf.

Only harsh pants of breath escaped his lips as he tried to regain self control. His fingernails dug into the palms of his hands, no doubt leaving welts behind. He shook so hard he couldn't see clearly.

"She s-speaks mu-much of her f-father. S-says s-she...hears..."

Billy could no longer feel his fingers, or his toes. His heart felt as if it had stopped beating, and was simply sitting outside of his body. He felt a pressure around his waist, and visually he could tell that he was moving, but all he could focus on was the ringing. It sounded similar to an old rotary phone...

Brrrrrring! Brrrrrrring!

His vision grew dark for a moment, before white lights fulled the area. He could see a shape in front of him that seemed so familiar...

Brrrrrrring!

It was a person...he knew this person...but...

Brrrrrrrring!

HE COULDN'T THINK OVER ALL THE RACKET. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UPSHUTUPSHUTUP-

"Billy?"

He heard his name whisper through the noise. He could feel a pressure over his hands, gentle but grounding. He felt the way his lungs expanded as he breathed a bit too quickly, and as his heart raced in his chest. The shape in front of him cleared a bit as his shaking subsided, revealing a pair of concerned eyes staring back at him.

"Billy? Are you alright?"

Blinking once, Billy took in his surroundings. He was sitting in a chair in what he assumed was a back room, filled with boxes of unopened coffee grounds, and unused to-go cups. Rectangular ceiling lights burned into his eyes as he stared directly into them. He saw the carcass of a bug lying in the cover of one, wondering how long it had been there. It was some sort of beetle...

He turned back to them.

Suddenly, everything came rushing back to him. His eyes widened and felt his throat tighten as his pulse picked up from fear.

"Did I hurt anyone?" his voice was a frightened whisper.

Confusion took over their features, staring almost in disbelief at him.

"No...you were having some sort of panic attack, I think."

Billy's shoulders slumped in relief, and he tried to wish away the nausea in his tummy. He fought the urge to rip at his hair, and instead settled for staring up at the light again and letting it burn into his retinas.

"I took you back here where it's quieter...I'm sorry, I didn't really know what else to do..."

"S'fine..." Billy mumbled, unable to look at them.

As he glanced down, he realized their hands were holding his clenched fists. He jerked his hands away as if they’d been burned, his heart threatening to leap out of his throat.

They backed off upon seeing his reaction, looking a bit lost.

Staring down, he relaxed his hands, watched as the crescent shapes in his palms beaded with blood. A few of the cuts were fairly deep, considering he’d just trimmed his nails (for this exact reason).

"Oh no, here I'll get some bandages for that-"

They got up and left the small room, rustling what sounded like a container nearby for medical supplies.

Billy sighed, disappointed in himself. He'd had another episode...the first one in a while...and he hadn't been ready for it. He should have been. He knew he had been in a weird mood all morning, but he still decided to get coffee and visit them. He knew it was a bad idea. He should've have been more prepared. He should have done better.

Useless. Pathetic. What a pathetic excuse of a human being. No wonder he had no friends. No wonder his family wouldn't speak to him. Who would want to hang out with such a sad, miserable-

"I'm back! I brought some bandages and disinfectant!" their voice was so soft and gentle as they quietly opened the door.

“I’m back...” Billy whispered too quietly for them to hear.

They kneeled in front of him, opening up a packet with a disinfectant wipe.

"Can I see your hands?" they asked him, patiently waiting for him to respond.

He nodded, still unable to look them in the eyes, and held open his hands. The alcohol burned as it ran against the cuts on his palm, but he deserved it. He deserved to feel pain-

"You doing alright?" they asked, cutting off his thoughts. "I hope it doesn't burn too much...these look painful."

"...I've had worse."

They glanced up at him, brow furrowed, but said nothing. Setting the wipe down, they grabbed the bandages and began wrapping one of his hands. He watched how they ran it around and around, pulling it snugly, but not too tight. Definitely, not as tightly as he would have, if he'd been doing it himself.

"I'm sorry for what happened... You didn't deserve that."

Yes he did.

"I understand if you want to leave..."

See? They didn't even want him. They were trying to get rid of him, just like everyone else-

"But, I’d love if you stayed. I already turned the closed sign on the door..."

Billy watched the bandage wrap his other hand, as the two of them sat in silence. They were being so sickeningly sweet to him, as usual.

"You just want me to tell you my latte recipe."

Their laugh was so abrupt and loud and made Billy jump, but he couldn't help but notice the butterflies in his stomach at the sight of their smile. It was brighter than the damn lights.

"Nah, it would take away the magic. I prefer not knowing," they giggled. "It's your iced coffee you should watch out for."

"Fuck iced fucking coffee."

They covered their mouth, trying to contain their laughter. It didn't work, but Billy found it extremely annoying that he could stare at their teeth anymore.

He reached up and grabbed their wrist, catching them off guard, and gently pulled their hand down. Their smile began to wilt out of confusion, and Billy frowned in disappointment.

Probably because he was being a creep. Disgusting, filthy, nASTY-

Billy let go of their wrist with a sigh. Their eyes searched his face, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"You always seem to have so much on your mind..." they whispered.

Billy grimaced and turned away from them. He swallowed down the acid reflux creeping up his throat.

“I'm always here, if you need someone to vent to. I’d be happy to listen."

Disgusting. It made him sick.

Slowly, Billy looked into their eyes, seeing no signs of malice. He ignored the beat his heart skipped.

"Come on, I'll make you some iced coffee," they winked with a smile, standing up and offering their hand to him.

He stared at it for an abnormally long length of time, looking at the shape of their nails.

Hesitantly, he reached out his own hand and took theirs, acknowledging the way their skin felt against his fingers. It was more comforting than he was willing to admit, and much more intense now that he was aware of it.

He was beginning to suspect that they knew that before he did.

They were horrible.

[voidcat]

Intrusion

– 4: gone with a snap (wc: 1.9k)

prev ; next ; m.list

a/n: another filler. sorry i forgot to upload the other remaining intrusion chapters from ao3 to here,,, i’ll upload other two in the following days.

After that day out, everything seems to fall back into place and regain its old rhythm.

Except that Iwaizumi becomes a part of the said rhythm of your life now, conversing and interacting with him a lot easier and almost refreshing.

What he said about your view of people seeing you play plays on loop in your mind but in a way, it feels like a breaking point on your journey of friendship. It feels good to step outside your comfort zone once in a while.

It’s funny how sudden some changes can appear before someone.

The first school day since your little hang out and you’re awfully cheery. Waking up in a good mood, not cutting conversations short; not even a certain teacher’s discriminating opinions can burst your bubble.

Your friends notice the sudden change during your typical lunch meet up.

It starts with wondering where some of your friends are. Ever since the rearrangement, it feels harder and harder to stick together.

“I heard the MUN club is holding a meeting during lunch break.”

“Again? This is the 3rd time in the last two weeks. Can’t they do that after school?” Okemia’s sudden outburst catches you off guard and causes Etsuko to drop one of her cookies. Meanwhile Ayame is nodding approvingly, backing up Okemia as always.

“Yeah because every single club wants to create a gap between us and the boys.”

“Well, they could be! They might be planning for it right now and we would be none the wiser!”

“A little bit of a reach, don’t you think?” Koto says as she sits down. The rest agrees in silence.

Everyone finishing up with lunch and occasionally eyeing the distance in case anyone else shows up, time passes by like that. Leaning against the tree behind you, you start watching the blurry figures in the distance, eyeing the leaves once in a while and getting cozier.

Startled by the sudden poke by your ribs, you break out of your trance.

“And what about you? You have been awfully quiet lately…” You slowly turn to Okemia.

“Not that it’s bad!” She adds worriedly. “It’s good to see you feeling, better. But at least one of us is there to witness the reason behind it. So… Spill.”

“I- spill what?”

“It’s the one you saw this weekend, right? It has to be! What else could you have done without us that would cause such a-“ She moves her hand rather dramatically, all digits pointing at you. “-change. So, who is he?”

Here it comes.

“There is no ‘he’ if that’s what you are asking. I’m just feeling lighter for no particular reason.”

“Hey, no need to get defensive! Nothing wrong with having a crush now.” You can hear the teasing tone in Etsuko’s words.

“Uh… Wait! Have we had a hobbit day recently? We haven’t had a hobbit day recently! I think we should have one soon and do nothing but eat!” Your desperate attempts at changing the topic of discussion is acknowledge. You’re not sure you’ll be getting away for a second time.

“Last time was fun, except for the moment our literature teacher saw Ayame and I feed each other chocolate though.”

“That’s because you two aren’t as fast and experienced as us!” You pull Koto to your side a bit too harsh as you say these. She just puts her arm around you in support and Okemia rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, keep lying to yourself.”

Successfully avoiding the possible news of your crush, you all set a date for your next grand ‘feast’ and some of your friends start to talk and giggle about their crushes. You just go back to looking at the sky and zoning out.

Trying not to dwell on your friends’ implications, you find yourself walking back to your classroom.

The looks and knowing smirks they sent your way when you announced you’d be leaving your little lunch spot a bit earlier making your blood rush, causing you to walk a little faster.

Pushing unwanted thoughts about why you might feel a bit different about someone proves to be an issue, especially when that someone is the one you hope to talk with a little before class starts.

Passing people by fast, ignoring their looks and heading straight to restroom, you stand over the sink.

Taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds.

You breathe out as you look at your reflection in the mirror.

Taking another deep breath and you start to examine your face.

 A pink blush spread on your cheeks and your nose, which you hope is caused by your quick pace and not a certain someone. Other than that, your eyes look fine, your mouth in a straight line and your face not giving away a single thought on your mind.

Splashing some cold water and standing for another 10 seconds, you slowly exit and make way to the classroom.

You’re almost disappointed to see Iwaizumi preoccupied with someone else. Key word; almost.

He’s sitting by his seat and a tall figure is looming over it.

From the way the figure moves his hands almost theatrically, it’s clear they’re the ones doing the talking. You can see their shiny brown hair and the gestures pull your attention to their skilled-looking fingers. They must know the enchanting presence they have right now, half the people in the classroom doing nothing but watching them. And they keep on talking about whatever it is they’re talking about purposely, not moving their head an inch from where Iwaizumi is sitting. And from where you are standing, they don’t block your view of Iwaizumi.

You can see him watching and nodding at them. Moving his mouth to make small comments, you assume to be words of agreement and encouragement, once in a while. He looks like in any other class; posture not slouching, hands rested on his desk, gaze focused on the speaker.

Yet the impression on his face. That, you cannot pinpoint.

Maybe you were wrong about Iwaizumi Hajime being an open book. Maybe you don’t know him enough to recognize this specific emotion on his face. It is clear there is something in the way he looks, the way his jaw clenches and the way he breathes. But you can’t make it out.

Startled by a sudden bump by the shoulder, you turn your head, mouth open ready to blurt a harsh word out, only to realize you’ve been blocking the entrance this whole time. Bowing your head slightly in what you hope is an apologetically way, your attention is back to them.

Eyes sliding back to the hall once in a while, you walk back to your desk and to Iwaizumi. Silently hoping he notices you or maybe not. Do you want him to notice you? Do you want to engage with someone who seems to be close to him as well? Do you-

Is that his voice? Head spinning around so fast to confirm with your eyes and yes it is the idiot you’ve been looking for all day, you rush to your desk, all your worries about Iwaizumi and his friend long forgotten.

Muttering few complaints and insults under your breath, along with a “wait up dumb ass” to no one in particular, you furiously search through your bag and make a run for the door as soon as you find what you’re looking for.

You don’t realize the puzzled look on Iwaizumi’s face or how his hand almost reached out to you.

You certainly don’t feel the cold gaze the brunette directs your way either.

You’ve been in an awfully good mood all week so far, Iwaizumi’s sure of it.

It’s almost impossible to miss when the typical demeanor of someone like you is cold and lacking in the smiles department. It’s a relief to see you like this, a little uplifting too. He wants to ask if it’s because of the mysterious text bearing news of hope you had received at the café. He knows better than to pry and settles with waiting until you decide to tell him yourself.

He can’t help but wish he is part of the reason why you’re happy.

Life goes the same for him; practices with the volleyball club, coming up with new strategies to beat Shiratorizawa, dealing with his highness’ shittiness whenever he is too handful. Additionally, you become a part of his life; slowly but surely giving more bits about your true self, talking with much more enthusiasm, making or saying something that is so you that he can’t help but agape once in a while too.

It is a nice change, welcomed, a little challenging because how you hold back and take things in time. He may not be the type to go and befriend anyone he sees but it doesn’t take a genius to know people don’t go all the trouble of slow processing and the effort when making friends nowadays. Lucky for him, Iwaizumi is not the type to back down from a challenge.

  Except for the times you disappear off to god knows where and all he has left to do is to wait. The back and forth between the two of you in thrilling somehow, adding a pinch of adrenaline to all this and leave him wondering what more to discover about you, what more to unlock with you, which layers to reach. To Iwaizumi you’re a little like a matrushka sometimes, reminding him of an oh-too-familiar friend he has spent a life time knowing.

But knowing him and discovering, bonding and growing together with him is what pulls Iwaizumi to the potential your friendship holds and offers.

So here he is one lunch break, sitting by his desk, most gazes locked onto where he is because Oikawa decide to pay him a visit in his classroom instead of calling him outside like he usually does.

He is not even there for something urgent, not even a hair crisis or a sudden volleyball strategy he came up with. No, Oikawa Tooru had to come and just ramble about nothing for no reason Iwaizumi can see. Yet he finds himself listening to his friend’s blabbing, nods when agreeing, making a small comment here and there, watching his comical gestures.

This goes on longer than he can comprehend, not long enough for lunch break to come to an end but long enough for Iwaizumi to zone in and out few times.

By the time his focus his back, he can see you aggressively going through your bag and cursing it. Unaware of Oikawa’s sudden silence, right when he’s about to touch your shoulder, you’re gone with a snap of fingers.

From where he is sitting, the view of the halls is limited. It takes a while for you to be seen again, walking besides someone and giving them whatever it was you were looking for a second ago. The figure’s back turned to him, Iwaizumi cam make out their built and height a bit, hint them to be in a sports team. He doesn’t realize the silent stance Oikawa has whenever he is observing, planning, breaking something into pieces in his mind; not until Iwaizumi realizes the mixture of words and giggles taking over the classroom as they’re done fawning after Oikawa. Before he can say anything else to his friend, besides a hurried “See ya!” Oikawa is gone, followed by the bell.

[vergilthelibrarian]

Lovesick Angel.

Yandere/Angel!Taeil x Male!Reader x Joshua

Taeil breathed in slowly, taking deep breaths as his eyes stayed on Mark.

“Taeil. You have sinned one to many times.” Mark started. “Before I let you go… I just want to know why? You were one of our most powerful angels yet you let human emotions control you… Why is that?”

Taeil smiled dreamily.

“It’s because I’m in love.”

“Love? Your love should be with God.”

“My love is far more worthy than God herself.”

Mark’s jaw clenched, anger contorting his features.

“You have lost your mind...” and Taeil nodded in agreement.

“So I have...”

“Whoever this love is better be worth it. Taeil, I deemed you banish from Heaven.” Mark spat and Taeil began laughing. At first it was just a giggle but it turned manic and as Taeil leaned backwards to fall, Mark caught a glimpse of the madness that was in Taeil’s eyes and shuddered.

Whoever caught the now fallen angel’s attention was a goner he thought and he prayed that God would protect them.

~~

You giggled with your boyfriend Joshua as you 2 baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

The doorbell to your apartment rang and Joshua went to go answer it.

He came back, a quizzical look on his face and a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands along with a yellow envelope.

“It’s for you Y/n.” he said handing the flowers to you.

You got up from the chair you were sitting on and took the flowers and the envelope.

Curious, you set the flowers down on the table and opened the yellow envelope, taking out a letter.

“What does it say?” Joshua asked standing next to you, trying to peak at the letter.

“Dear, Y/n.” you began. “You may not know me but I’ve known you for a very for a very long time and slowly I’ve fallen for you, figuratively and literally. Just recently I was able to start a brand new chapter in my life and I plan on having you in it. We will meet soon, love your guardian angel.”

You stared at the note, frowning.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all.” Joshua remarked and you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, this is pretty weird.” you sat the letter down on the table.

“The flowers are pretty though.”

“They’re your favorite too. Hmm… Seems like you have a secrete admirer.” he said, picking up the letter to read it for himself.

“I’m gonna get a vase.” you said, walking off to the closet.

Once you got to the closet, you opened the door and grabbed a vase that was decorated with painted bees. You closed the door, turn around only to scream, nearly dropping the vase.

You saw a shadow standing not far from you only for it to vanish as soon as it appeared.

Joshua came running out the kitchen.

“Whats wrong?! Are you okay?!” he asked, coming up to you, worry in his eyes.

You were visibly shaken.

“I just saw this huge black shadow standing right there.” you pointed in front of you.

Joshua looked behind himself then back at you.

“Have you’ve been taking your medication?”

“I have.” you sighed. “Maybe I need to start a new medicine...” you said sadly, smiling when you felt your boyfriend hug you tightly.

“It’s okay babe. I’m here. No shadows demons are gonna kidnap you.” he laughed causing you to giggle.

Joshua always knew how to make you smile.

~~

You awoke in a cold sweat, your breathing harsh and your heartbeat fast.

Shaking your head, you try to get the mental image of your dead boyfriend out of your mind but you couldn’t

Lately, you’ve been having the same exact nightmare, of your boyfriend being murdered by a black winged man. You didn’t tell Joshua about the dream because well, you didn’t want him worrying about you too much. But the dream was getting to you and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something dreadful was going to happen soon.

Sitting up, you gulped loudly, noticing that your throat was dry and decided to go to the kitchen to get a drink.

As you walked to the kitchen, you noted how cool the apartment was.

Turning the faucet on to cold, you grabbed a cup and watched as the water poured into it. You turned off the faucet and drunk the whole cup in one go. Sighing, you put the cup down, your hands gripping the sink.

That’s when you heard a melodic voice coming from somewhere.

Your heart shook as you listened to the voice humming.

Turning around, you cursed to yourself as you realized you didn’t turn on any lights and was in the dark.

Gulping, you walked out of your kitchen, only for the voice to grow louder.

Looking to your right, you saw that your balcony door was open which was strange because you made sure you closed it before you went to bed last night.

The light of the moon shined upon your living room, giving you some light.

Walking to the balcony, you notice that the humming was coming from there.

Alarms went off in your head. One part of your mind was yelling at you to run into your room, lock the door and call the cops but the other told you to check where the humming was coming from and as much as you wanted to run away to your room, you legs seemed to be moving on it’s own as you stepped closer to the balcony.

Your foot touch the cool concert and your head poke out to the side.

You were met with the back of a person in an all white outfit. They didn’t wear any shoes and their head was up, looking at the stars of the night sky, their hands resting on the balcony ledge.

You noticed that the humming had stopped once you got on the balcony and you nervously asked, “Who are you? What are you doing here on my balcony?”

You heard a chuckle and a deep sigh.

“You know… I use to live up there. I was one of God’s most powerful angels. I loved her and she loved me.” the stranger said causing you to frown in confusion. “But then one day, while on patrol, one of her creatures caught my eye. A human… He was crying because he had fallen off his bike he’d had scraped his knee. Poor thing wouldn’t get up. His own father had to carry him back to his grandmother’s house to be patched up.”

Your eyes widen.

That happened to you. That exact scenario happened to you when you was about 7 years old. How did they know that?

The stranger continue.

“I would watch the human as he grew up. And as I watched him grow, I felt things, things I never felt before.” his fist balled up. “Love. Greed. Envy. And lust to be exact. Those were the things I felt for him but he had no clue because well, God didn’t allow non guardians to be near humans.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, wondering if this was just the drunken ramblings of someone who broke into your house.

“But I wanted to be near him so bad.” the stranger ignored your question. “I needed to be near him. And that need, that hunger grew and grew. My passion for you grew to where that now I am too far gone. I can’t be saved. And neither can you my love.”

You grew scared as the stranger turned around.

The man looked at you with a dreamy look on his face.

“I grew so tired of Heaven and I know you’ve grown tired of Earth. Run away with me.” he said walking towards you, your mind going blank.

The man grabbed your hands, his eyes scanning your features.

“Run away with me and you’ll never be alone again. I’ll worship you like the God you are, just say yes to me.” it felt as though he was speaking directly in your mind as he spoke out loud. His voice had an echo affect.

“W-who are you?” you asked nervously.

The man chuckled, his eyes turning black.

“I’m Taeil. Your guardian angel.”

You fainted.

~~

You woke up in bed, your head pounding.

Before you could even wonder how you got it bed, you remembered the event of last night and wondered if it was all a dream.

It had to be.

There was no way that what had happened was real but yet you couldn’t shake the thought away of it being real.

You sighed checking your phone.

20 missed calls from Vernon

“What? Why did Vernon call me twenty times?” you thought out loud, pressing the calling icon to call the man.

You were answered with a hysterical Vernon who was crying so much that he couldn’t properly string words together.

“Vernon calm down. Take deep breaths.” and he listened, breathing slowly.

Once he was a bit calm you asked him to tell you what was going on.

“It’s Joshua. He’s dead! They found him in the baseball field near the lake with claw marks on his body and his heart missing! I’m so sorry Y/n.” and he broke down again.

You dropped your phone and ripped out a heartbreaking cry of anguish.

No.

No this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening.

He was just here with you yesterday and now he’s gone.

Just like that within a blink of an eye, he’s gone…

You picked up your phone.

“I’m gonna come over.” Vernon said and you shook your head.

“No. I… I need to be alone for a few days.”

Vernon didn’t press you, understanding that you wanted to grieve and soon you 2 said your goodbyes and hung up.

As you cried, you heard a humming and without a thought, you legs moved on it’s own to where it was coming from, this time in your living room.

You sniffled as your eyes landed on the man from last night, Taeil, sitting on your couch, his white clothes and mouth covered in blood.

He smiled upon seeing you.

“Honestly… who would’ve thought becoming a fallen meant I’d get taste for human. Strange really.” his nails were razor sharped and all of his teeth seemed sharp as well. Compared to last night, he seemed unhuman.

“You killed him.” you whispered and he smirked.

“Of course I did. How can I let the man I love attention be on some other man? I can’t have that.”

He got up from the couch, walking to you and as much as you willed your body to move, it just wouldn’t budge. It was like you were glued in place.

You looked at him before moving your attention down to the floor, not wanting to look at him, tears drops falling from your eyes, hitting the ground.

“That look in your eyes. I hate it.” he said, his bloody hand caressing your cheek, his face so close to yours that his nose was skimming your forhead. “Do not fear my love. For I am a messenger of God.” his voice echoed in your mind.

Suddenly you found yourself enclosed tapped between him and his black wings.

You wanted this to be dream.

You wanted to wake up and have this be all over but as you finally, slowly moved your head up to look at the monster, your heart sunk as you met his charcoal colored eyes, a lovesick grin on his lips.

“Only I can worship you.”

[thepaperpanda]

Scream And Shout || Alfie Solomons x Reader

Summary: When reader tries to pull Alfie out of bad habits, he gets pretty mad.

Warnings: Angry Alfie

Words: 1619

Request by: @peakyheckingblinders

Authors: Cass & Rouge

It could have been water in the glass but it wasn't. It wasn't and everyone knew it. Even at three in the afternoon that transparent liquid that was nothing else but vodka and that wasn't even the start of it. There was brandy in his morning orange juice, "just to give it a little kick". If Alfie was ever drinking coffee mid-morning there was whiskey in it too, cream liqueur if he could get it. By dinner time he was slumped in his chair, dribbling between the snores. It really was best to leave him that way, waking him meant him rambling on about the war, about how bad and "fucking shitty those bastards are", about how you were the best woman there in his life that ever was and ever will be.

His workers had already learned that Alfie Solomons wasn't an easy person to deal with; most of time he was moody, nasty, aggressive, impatient and no one could do anything about this.

That afternoon you had no other option then to step into his office, with few papers in your hands, looking at him sleeping onto his desk counter again.

Being the distiller was too much to handle for him sometimes apparently. You walked to his desk, placed documents on the counter and gently poked his shoulder. "Alfie?"

Alfie woke up pretty quickly, no matter what his mind was never all clouded by alcohol. Probably because of the years of "training" in this matter.

"What? What this fuckers fucked up this time?," Alfie muttered and improved himself in the chair to sit in it properly.

You sent him a brief, warm smile and pushed the papers to him on the counter, pointing at them. "You forgot to fill the agreements so I thought I'll remind you about them," you informed sweetly.

Alfie rolled his eyes highly annoyed, he gently rubbed bridge of his nose. Putting on his glasses, Alfie looked at the paper. "That's all nice and sweet, love, but I will do it may be tomorrow. I don't feel like doin' it now."

"But... It's important, our contractors have to get those agreements signed today...," You tried to explain, still smiling gently at him.

Yes, Alfie was a tough man to deal with, even though you were calling him your boyfriend, partner, lover.

Alfie looked at you with a soft frown. His hands were resting on his knees while one of them bounced.

He still wasn't used to you being around him, nagging, reminding him about stuff. It were just roughly three days since you two became an actual thing. He loved you in his own,weird way but so much attention toward him was starting to drive him crazy.

Alfie shook his head and signed the paper. "Fuckin’.... Here. Happy?"

You shifted in place, slowly raising your eyebrows and wrinkling your forehead. "Thank you, Alfie. You don't have to be rude," you told him taking papers in your hands, squeezing them tightly as if from them your life would depend.

He snorted shortly and pointed at you. "You’ve never ever seen me beein' really fuckin' rude before, woman. This is nothing. You done? Because I could use a drink."

"You drink too much, recently," you told him openly, you sounded worried.

Alfie got up from him seat and walked to one of the cupboards to grab a bottle. "Yea, and? It ain't your problem, really, love. Go look for something to do, okay?," He waved his hand at you and soon returned to his seat with bottle in hand.

Instead of doing what he said, you out papers down on his desk and walked to him, you pulled the bottle out of his hands. "Alfie, please," you asked him.

He smashed his fist against the table. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me!?Give me that fuckin' bottle back and it ain't a fuckin' joke, Y/N!," Alfie roared at you, without really controlling the loudness of his voice.

You blinked but hugged bottle to your front and stepped away from the man. "No," you replied.

"I won't be fuckin' playing with you, woman!," He growled and grabbed the bottle."And never fuckin’ ever do this again,” Alfie warned you. "Now, go and do your fuckin' work, Y/N."

As soon as you felt how your chin trembled, you turned around quickly and rushed out of the room. You grabbed your coat from the hanger, put it on and left the bakery.

On your way back home you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your cheeks.

Meantime Alfie rolled his eyes, women always were too emotional for his liking. "She will be fine," he muttered to himself before opening the bottle.

---------

The rest of the day went normally for Alfie. He sat in his office, dealt with some fuckers, drank. In the end, he dressed up and went home.

"Y/N! Imma home! Where are you?," Alfie asked as soon as he passed the threshold.

There was no response. No light was lit in the house, it was cold still, filled with darkness that peered out at Alfie from any corner.

"Y/N! What the hell is happening?," He muttered, turning on the lights and walking deeper into the house.

Mean time you were sitting on the wooden floor in your shared bedroom, leaning your back against wooden door that were locked from inside with the key you were hugging to your breasts. You couldn't calm down after his sudden outburst, and even though you loved him more than anything else on this world, you were shocked that he could have behaved so awfully towards you.

Alfie looked around the flat confused as hell, you never left the house alone. He checked every room for you until he got to the bedroom, the locked door didn't let him in. That was weird. "Y/N? Are you there, love?," Alfie asked, trying to push the door harder.

"Go away!," You said aloud, sniffing a little.

"Oh, so you are there. What's wrong?," He asked and again tried to push the door. "Why are you hiding there, little one?"

"Just go away!," You repeated weakly. "I don't want you to scream at me again! Go away! Go and spend another evening with your beloved bottle!"

"Come on, I came home to you. Ain't that a nice thing?,” He asked.

"No!" You pulled knees under your chin, a shiver ran along your spine as you did. You were trembling both in and out. You were being in despair. You took a deep breath to pull yourself together, you got up slowly after awhile and unlocked the door to let him in.

Alfie watched you opening the door, he honestly started to feel bad when he saw you fully. You didn't look good, you looked scared. Such a look he always saw on his enemies' faces, he never wanted to see it on your rosy cheeks. It simply didn't suite you at all. "Love...," Alfie said, slowly stepping inside the bedroom.

"Don't come any closer, Alfie," you warned him by raising your hand and pointing your index finger straight ath im. "Don't you come any closer."

Then you walked to the window and sat at the wide windowsill, peeking at the street throughout the curtain.

"Love, please," Alfie said softly walking closer to you. His hands gently rested on your shoulders. "I am sorry.”

You shivered and squeaked a little at his touch and even though it was a good feeling, yet it made you dizzy.

Alfie moved his hands away. "Y/N, please. I ain't gonna hurt you, love. You are too important for me."

"And yet you didn't have any objections before screaming at me."

"I was just angry, you know me. My temper is short, really short," Alfie explained looking at your reflection in the glass. "I am really sorry, love."

"I only wanted to help you. I wanted you to realize that you drink too much and care too less," you whispered barely moving your lips.

"I know, love," he let out a sigh. "I am really sorry, you are right and I am just an old fool."

You tilted head on the sides lightly, looking up at him.

He looked at you sadly. "I am really sorry, love. I might be rough, harsh, dangerous, I don’t doubt it, but there are things I would never do. Hurting you is one of them," Alfie explained.

You sighed and nodded at his words, you slowly got up and grabbed his rough palm in yours.

"I didn't mean to scare or hurt you. I would never let this happen," he said softly watching you. "I ain't used to love, it's still a new thing for me."

"Love being a new thing to such an old and experienced man like you? That's funny," you managed to smile at him bluntly as you teased his palm with your nail.

"I am experienced in many things, love. Murder, crime... And many other bad things," Alfie shrugged and looked at you. "And you are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Stop it or I'm going to believe it," you said as you nuzzled face to his chest.

"But it's fuckin' true," Alfie said before wrapping arms tightly around you. "I love you, Y/N. I would never hurt you."

"Prove it," you whispered and looked up at him.

Alfie smiled softly and pulled you into the kiss. It was slow and tender, your tongues danced together in a soft rhythm. After longer moment the pulled away, looking you in the eyes. "Is it a good proof, love?"

Blushing hardly you nodded your head. "It is. So, let's go to the kitchen. The supper still needs to be made."

Pandies🐼: @imidarogerson @grossograsso @thewildgardensstuff @leven-and-ashley @la-verdura @bearded-steve-rogers @sebbystan-plantlover @atuckyismylife @krispyjellyfishzombie @personality-within @haseki-huricihan  @choppedgardenwhispers @vroobelek @lattimelka @chris-beamz @hidden-secrets69 @purepearls @volcanoxxx @kastrup-sofie @mikkal-akasaki @withoutashadowofhope @radbluebirdeagle @marvel-fan-site @smutloversblog @buquete @super-psycho-love69 @tanglesss @peter-sommer @baysidewest @vegemania @philip-stan @chodiusmmm @subwaystunnel @tykorclint @dagger-dragger @kurant @nothing-can-least-forever @oxfordkipem @deliciousbouquet90 @tuptuptup @hellenna80 @karina-marina9 @latimeriaaa @bratko @wurld89 @scott-evans @kiss-me-rouge @ovonel-espaniol @dancing-tacco @ratugadhi @white-tiger-shangrila  @axn69 @eternal-life-awaits @mrs-laura-harmon @artsy-inside @gleeeeees  @darkllaama @jatut @agawux @fuzzy-tigrrr @jrjohnsson2 @maaargoshaaa @dontgetmewrongman @einexx @nwmtagsb @anini71 @secretlygrantaire @kyloren-supreme-ben @infinity-stones-seeker @thehappyspider @wings4life @huxyluxy @dontbeafraidchild @misafiryanki @electronicpatrolcollective​ @thisismysecrethappyplace @aulika @hidden-secrets69 @a-happy-wolf​ @creative-seahorse​ @biologyforliving​

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Insānĭa || Alfie Solomons x reader || Part One

↬ Part Two ↫      

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “Hi luv can you write a Jealous Alfie that's leads to in ur words good old fashioned rough sex pretty please 😉”

Warnings: swearing, dirty talking, smut, rough sex, oral sex, jealous Alfie getting me on my knees

Author’s notes:

Sooo, I’ve definitely decided to use this kind of titles for fics about strong feelings such as jealousy because Latin is a magnificent, very expressive language that allows you to grasp every single shade of a word and fully understand its meaning

I had to split this in two since it was awfully long, part two will be out in the next hours!

Alfie -and Tom Hardy in general- is one of my most remote wet dreams, I truly hope I did a good job with this one ♡

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected  ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Insānĭa  [insaniă], insaniae feminine noun I declension  1. madness, insanity 2. fury, frenzy 3. excess, extravagance 4. profligacy, luxury

The dark green brocade of your dress flawlessly embraced your body, creating a ravishing contrast between the bright colour of  that precious fabric and your y/s/c velvet skin, as you gave a final glimpse at the mirror, appreciating what you saw for once. That surprising realization made a small smile appear on your ruby lips and you brushed behind your pearled ear a stand of your hair escaped from your fine coiffure, before finally leaving Alfie’s office, headed to the great hall of the distillery where an important business dinner was about to take place. Actually, your fiancé hardly ever involved you in his working life, indeed he always tried to keep you safe, far away from the atrocities of that cruel world, almost like you were his rare rose under a bell jar, he would’ve never let anything happen to you, at the cost of his own life. But that was a special occasion and it demanded an exception: Alfie had finally succeeded in reaching an agreement with a new Italo-American partner, in order to expand his traffic in rum all the way to the Americas; consequently, that opulent feast was arranged not only to celebrate, but also to define the ultimate details of their recent deal, and your presence was required too. Entering the huge room already half full of people, you immediately waved your hand at Ollie who was friendly smiling in your direction, before your eyes went looking for your boyfriend, finding him seconds later, while he was busy talking with who you assumed to be Mr. Antonio Fontana. As you approached them, you had to admit to yourself that Alfie’s latest business associate was, without a doubt, one of the most charming men you’d ever seen; his tall, muscular figure stroke a thrilling fear into you, as his dark greedy eyes examined your body with surgical precision and, when you eventually found yourself right in front of him with flushed cheeks, a slight smirk formed on his fleshy lips surrounded by a hint of beard, just as black as his curly hair.

You remained caught up in your inappropriate thoughts, unable to pronounce a single word, until a strong arm unexpectedly harpooned your waist, catapulting you back into real life, and you recognized Alfie’s intense cologne as it forcefully filled your nostrils. Only then you raised your eyes at him, noticing an irritated look contaminating his sublime masculine features, still you didn’t manage to say anything because, just as you attempted to open your mouth, Antonio’s deep voice overtook you, capturing your attention again.

“May I ask who this stunning creature is?” Although that question was in effect addressed to Alfie, your guest’s impudent gaze entangled yours once more, as he held your right hand, leaving a brief kiss on the ardent skin of its dorsum; his strategical sweet-talk, along with his sudden gallant gesture, inevitably intensified the blush on your face, preventing you to look the other way, so you simply kept your irises locked with his.

“I’m y/n ...” Before your full name could leave your red lips, Alfie nonchalantly took your tiny hand from his, sending him an indecipherable, unsettling glare in stark contrast with his apparently mild voice, while his fingers automatically stroked his long beard .

“Antonio, this is Y/n y/l/n, my lovely wife-to-be” That last appellative in particular was marked with far too much emphasis as his strong hand, still laid on your side, gently pulled your back closer to his vigorous torso covered by a creamy-white shirt and black jacket; already bothered by all of that impudence, he was obviously making it clear that you were not available, still the half Italian just didn’t seem to care and continued to shamelessly court you, right under Alfie’s harsh stare.

“This means it’s not too late for you to make a better choice, angel” Antonio’s grin widened while he spoke those insolent words, making his black eyes blatantly travel from your mouth to your deep neckline, his tongue slithered on his bottom lip in a salacious movement as he lingered on the soft skin of your chest. You felt your fiancé’s fists brutally clench, moreover his muscular arms visibly tautened together with his large shoulders, and you knew he wouldn’t have contained his anger for much longer, still, before your spellbound brain could start working again, your rambling mouth raced beyond the point of no return.

“Guess it’s never too late”

You said lightly and, as soon as you realized how idiotic your answer was, your eyelids snapped wide open with absolute panic for the likely destructive consequences of your foolishness; however, to your great surprise, nothing of what you expected actually happened. Alfie was still holding you tight, his heavy breaths slightly betrayed his attempt to remain calm: he was well aware that the deal with the Americans was way too important for him to ruin everything at a few inches from the finish line, so he just had recourse to all his self-control and somehow managed not to blow his shareholder’s head off his neck right on the spot. He simply cleared his throat before speaking again. “You know, my friend, we are businessmen, aren't we?”  Your boyfriend’s husky voice revealed a hint of edginess, even though he was using his usual unintelligible tone  “And as a businessman, there’s only one fucking thing I demand when it comes to my affairs, and that’s respect, ‘cause respect, mate, is fucking sacred, innit?” His tattooed hand drew a few little circles in the air as his brows and mouth raised simultaneously, giving birth to a brief pretentious expression.  “I mean, no matter how hard I want to, I can’t just break into your house and fuck your mother under your bloody eyes, eh? That wouldn’t be right, mate” Antonio looked at him with a cheeky smile never leaving his face, and again he chose to totally ignore those veiled warnings, his attention utterly moved to your silhouette once more and his fingers dared to move a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Amico mio*, I think when you desire something so bad, you have to take it, even if it meant breaking the rules”

With fiery blood both in his greenish eyes and on the palms of his hands, due to the nails now wedged in his own flesh, Alfie abruptly breathed out, ready to assault his new sworn enemy and probably kill him right there and then, without a second thought; luckily, you were able to read him like a book, so, with great timing, you successfully avoided a bloodbath by yanking his arm, in order to dissuade him from the violent intentions crowding his turbulent mind. “Mr. Fontana, if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, I just remembered I need help with a couple of things before our dinner is served” You put on an apologetic smile, starting to back off towards Alfie’s private room while dragging him with you “Please, take a seat, we’ll be back in a moment”

As soon as the two of you entered the main office, you quickly closed the door along with the curtains, conscious of how hard it was to cope with your man’s wrath, especially when it came to other blokes brazenly flirting with you. “What the hell was that, eh?” Alfie furiously removed his jacket, carelessly throwing it on the floor, his hoarse voice echoed between the walls almost astonishing you, as he approached your minute figure with a literally livid look. “How dare you eye-shag that fucking wop, in my own fucking home! He was practically about to put his dick in you right in front of me; and you would’ve fucking let him!”  His savage screaming paused for a short instant when he spasmodically messed up his hair, madly pulling its tips in a desperate effort to hold back his rage.

On the other hand, you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him: whenever he got angry, the way veins swelled in his solid neck and half-exposed forearms drove you crazy, you were in a haze as you kept staring at his manly features pursed in such a cursed yet handsome expression, and if that wasn’t hot enough, his muscular body tensed several times, showing all of its virile glory, while he continued to shout at you. “I don’t even know why the hell I haven't killed that cunt yet! Maybe I should just go and rip his throat open” A familiar heat began to rise in your belly and you tactically sat on his desk, viciously martyrizing your bottom lip with your teeth, determined to tease him a little more, in order to eventually get what you were craving. “Oh, c’mon, love, no need to be this irascible! He is a gorgeous man, you can’t deny that” In truth, you couldn’t care less about that eyetie, still you kept using that coquettish tone, knowing how easy it was for you to find his weak spot, indeed Alfie immediately got close to your face, slightly squeezing his menacing eyes. “Are you fucking trying to make me mad on purpose, y/n? eh?” His palms loudly collided with the wooden surface on each side of your legs, his plump lips were now only a few inches apart from yours, his hot breath warming your flushed cheeks as you pierced his dilated pupils with a lustful gaze.

“Maybe.”

*Amico mio = My friend

@namelesslosers

[satoruvt]

special

so basically i want izuku to marry me. thats it. here’s a bunch of fluff

pairing → izuku midoriya x reader

word count → 895

request → I hope I can make it in time to request! Can you write a scenario where fem!reader has a healing quirk who keeps on helping izuku heal his wounds? His s/o has been doing this from their childhood, high school and pro hero days c: I have been thinking about this for a while since izuku gets hurt most of the time and I think he’ll appreciate the comfort he gets from someone he considers special 💖 That’s all! Sorry for rambling! Hope you have a good day ☺️ + hey! can i have #50 from prompt list 2 w/ izuku or friends to lovers with any of the kiss prompts? 💓 + 50. A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck. + i changed the first request the Tiniest bit (they’re not together at the start of the fic!!)

song inspo → i switched between ur so beautiful by grace vanderwaal and losing my love by verzache!!

“Really, Izuku,” you murmur, running your finger over a cut to heal it. “You need to be more careful.”

Izuku grins shyly, but the glimmer in his eyes shows no regret. “You’ve been saying that for years now, Y/N.”

“And you’ve been ignoring it for years.”

“Hey! I’ve been more careful recently!”

You snort, turning around to find some bandages in your mirror above your sink. Your bathroom had become a go-to clinic since, well… forever, pretty much. With Izuku being so set on becoming a hero and getting hurt so often, you figured Recovery Girl could only do so much, and medical bills are always expensive. Even after you moved further into the city after high school, Izuku still came to you after particularly harsh battles with villains. Since going pro, however, he’s come back with more intense injuries that even your quirk had some trouble with. Basic first aid was handy.

Having found the bandages, you motion for Izuku to move his head to the side so you can patch up a rough wound on the junction of his neck and shoulder. He does so without hesitation, wincing when you run over the cut with a wet washcloth to clean dried blood away.

“Sorry,” you say, brows furrowed in concentration. “This one’s pretty deep.”

Izuku only nods, and in no time you’ve fixed him up well enough. More scars to add to his collection, but you’re not sure he minds, the way he’s looking at your handiwork in the mirror. You sigh, dusting your hands off for a finishing effect. 

“Alright, you’re good to go,” you say, gathering his hero suit from the bathroom floor. Both of you know the drill already - he gets hurt, you patch him up, wash his hero suit; he’s got many spare outfits in the bottom drawer in your dresser. Mostly tank tops and baggy shorts, but they’re good enough. 

“Really?” Izuku pouts sarcastically. “No kisses? They might make me feel better, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, eyes flickering from his to a small cut on his cheek. With your quirk, it might really help him, and it’s always fun to tease him…

In a swift movement, you gather his hero suit in one arm and lean on his unharmed shoulder with the other, pressing your lips to Izuku’s cheekbone gently. You feel him tense and bite your lip to stop from smiling as you pull away, watching as blood rushes to his face. The cut is barely noticeable, now, and you admire your power for a quick second. You’re about to leave the bathroom to put his clothes in the washer when his words stop you from moving altogether.

“There are… other places. That could do with a… a kiss.” 

Izuku’s words are shaky, unsure, and you feel your heart rate increase. It’s been so long since you felt anything like this towards him - not since your last year of high school - that you thought you’d gotten over it, but with the butterflies gathering in your stomach and your now-dry throat, you’re apparently not. You’re sure you’re as red as Izuku, if not more. 

His hero suit falls to the ground, forgotten. You take a half step forward - testing the waters, making sure he’s not joking. He lets out a shaky breath, but doesn’t back away. His bright eyes meet yours and you can’t hold that eye contact for long, so you look for the next place to heal, but all you can focus on is a cut above his lip.

You’re so close to him now. Chest to chest, eyes level with his lips. You look up at him, fingers tracing his hand. 

“If I…” you start, swallowing. “If I do this, we can’t go back.”

“I know.” Izuku says. He makes the first move, leaning down to you slowly.

When you kiss him, you’re floating. 

Honestly. It’s like Ochaco activated her quirk on you - the only thing keeping you grounded is the feel of Izuku, how warm he is with his hand on your cheek and arm around your waist. You loop your arms around his neck - Gently, you remind yourself, remembering that he did just get back from a fight - to tangle your fingers in his hair. When you tug on his curls softly, he groans into your mouth. You drink the sound down greedily. 

Before you know it, you’re trailing your lips down to his neck, even if there aren’t any wounds there. 

“Ah,” Izuku breathes when you sooth over a hickey with your tongue. “That’s…”

You start to realize what you’re doing and your kisses slow, because holy shit you’re making out with your best friend. In your bathroom, no less, surrounded by gauze and this is definitely not how you wanted this to go down. When you pull away from his neck, Izuku’s blushing rosy but he kisses you again, soft and tentative. You feel flowers bloom in your chest.

“This is probably obvious, but…” Izuku says when he pulls away. “I really like you, Y/N. I have for a long time now.”

You grin. “Pro hero Deku likes me? Wow, I must be special.”

The laugh he lets out warms you, but when he dresses you in his gaze you feel even warmer. “Yeah,” he says, tracing a thumb over your jaw. “You really are.”