#we need our priorities straight

[very-gay-poet]

way r all these cute little prompts on my whatever-you-call-it like DAMN I DIDNT NEED TO BE HURT TODAY BC THOES SAD LITTLE GAYS

[dresstv]

the way i’ve seen not one vid of the vigilante shit performance tonight

[cherry-leclerc]

purely platonic ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst??, secret crushes, just two idiots who can't read the room of what we call 'feeeelingsss', they friendzone each other without knowing they're friendzoning each other BAHA

word count: 3.8k

It goes without saying that you and Lando are like two peas in a pod; always finding something to do. But when things suddenly shift after the summer break, it leaves you two to settle with the idea of one another with a rather doubtful mind.

req!...got this one a long time ago and the request was kind of confusing?? but i tried to make something out of it hahaha enjoyyy??

“Does this top make my boobs look big?”

Lando’s watercolor eyes quirk up, squint, then shakes his head full of curls. “You don’t have much to worry about.”

You muster a dirty glare before prancing over to the mirror, picking up a tube of gloss, laying it onto your plump lips. When you first started working at McLaren, you never truly thought you would end up here, on holidays with a witty British driver, but your friendship had blossomed rather quickly.

Don’t bother—they taste like absolute rubber.

Looking up to face the mysterious voice, you awkwardly choke, dainty hand dropping the last chocolate wafer. 

Have you tried them?

Lando grins widely before reaching out to pick it up and popping it into his mouth. He winks.

Mmm. New recipe or something like that.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” you call out, pulling the baby voice he hates with a strong passion. Rolling his eyes, he kicks his feet against the bed frame, twisting like a pretzel. As long as I don’t get a ransom call, then yes. Go. You’re giddy with excitement; pick up your purse, spray some perfume—probably the entire bottle—and finally peck his cheek, to which he grimaces, instantly pulling away. 

“Make sure to wake me up once you’re back.”

You do. Patting him, you eagerly bounce up and down against the fluffy mattress. “Brazil was a mistake.” His lashes flutter tiredly, skin slightly pink from rubbing his eyelids. Why? Folding your legs beneath your butt, you huff, tangled hair flying towards him. He can almost smell the sea salt that lingers onto your clothes, the scent of aperol spritz. It makes him wonder how many you’ve taken as he props up against his elbows, dark brows drawn together with attentiveness. 

“First of all, I paid for the entire thing.” No, he gasps. You nod, pursing your lips tightly. “I’ve never seen someone so tan turn paper white in a matter of seconds. It was quite fascinating, actually. Sucks,” you ponder, shoulders dropping drastically. “He was stupidly gorgeous too.” 

I hate it when they do that. You laugh, eyes crinkling with true emotions for the first time that night. “He did dance like a pro though, oh God, I could barely keep up.” A lazy arm flies up to massage your neck, wincing as if you’ve just stubbed your toe against a brick wall. “I might have to see a chiro.” Tapping your finger against your chin, you close your eyes. “After all that, he invited me back to his place.”

The Brit sits up straight away, turns on the lamp that sits besides him. “Why are you here then?” he screeches. You curl a brow. The fuck is that supposed to mean? Lando sighs heavily and rubs his temples before flashing you with a pair of stern eyes. “We’re here to have fun, remember? Sex, sex, sex. That’s our priority.” The twenty-four year old relaxes against the comfy pillows. “We made a pact.”

“But I just—” You become visibly green, too grossed out with the idea. “He was handsome—don't get me wrong—a fucking hunk.” He gags. “Probably had a massive dick.” You’re disgusting! A giggle erupts while you wiggle your way underneath the covers. “But I think I need to form an actual connection with someone in order to actually…yeah. A connection.”

It was about five months ago that you got dumped. Constant travels, not enough quality time. Too much work, not enough fucking. Far too lovey dovey eyes batted towards a certain brunette—that’s where you drew the line. You stood up for yourself; for Lando. It had taken you years to gain his trust and now that you had an unbreakable bond, you weren’t going to let the first insecure man make you feel like shit for it. But he didn’t like it, leaving you to cry on someone else’s shoulder. 

For some factor, the Brit felt bad. Perhaps it was his fault—perhaps he did intervene—but he was pissed too. For the way your ex had treated you, for him even considering the twenty-four year old would hit on somebody’s girlfriend. He knew the difference between flirting and a platonic relationship. Yeah. You were better off.

Brazil was great. Summer break was great. One night stands were great. At least he thought so.

Placing his hands over his broad chest, he releases a breath. “That’s actually pretty cute.” A sudden growl slides up your throat as you kick his shin. He scoots further away. “I only suggested because I thought it’d help…”

“Now you know.” A beat. “I can’t keep up with the Sex God.” Loopy eyes flicker over at him. “I’m talking about you, Sex Machine. Sex enthusiast. Can’t keep it in his pants— ”

He gruffs. “Understood.” He steals the blanket away as you squeal, hands flying out to tug it back towards your body. “Loud and clear.”

-

He had a plan to visit as many places as possible, and while that was fun for a while, you reasonably started to miss home. I’m tapping out, you would declare when you got to Bali, enjoying the view with an exhausted state. Last one. But he would somehow, always, convince you. There’d be too much to see. Too much to experience. And you would stay.

It’s only up until Australia where you find yourself taking an actual break. Maybe it was because you were staying at Daniel’s, but you were grateful nonetheless. Days consisted of hikes, rodeos, undercooked steak, wine, and dirt biking. Quite fun—definitely better than being back home feeding your pet fish. Ms. Lockwood has it all taken care of, thank you very much. 

“This is nice,” the Australian murmurs as he bites down on a slice of pizza. “I’m glad you guys made a pitstop.”

Wandering eyes roam the open field, dusty boots kicked up against his car. “Us too.”

Lando clicks his tongue knowingly, tilting his head at you as you hush him. For once in his life, he was glad to have someone around. Oftentimes, there’d be moments where people would assume you two were dating—possibly even married—but it was simply an unhinged friendship. Exactly what he was looking for. Thank God all of that is over now.

“How long have you two been together?” Heidi asks sweetly, leaning against her boyfriend. Mid-sip, you spit, red wine painting Lando’s white tee. Bloody hell, he moans, drying his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” you gurgle. “We’re not…” When you gag, the Brit scoffs.

“She’s too immature. You think I would willingly sign up for that?” The couple share a skeptical glance, eyebrows raised to where he hands you a napkin. “Come on, mate, who do you take me for?”

As you both make your way over to the house, Daniel and Heidi settle into a deep conversation. There was not a single doubt within them that you two weren’t meant for one another. It made perfect sense—but why were you both so blinded to the idea? 

“Hmm,” the blond says. “Two months of traveling together? That just doesn’t happen.” Heidi spins on her heel, facing the Australian. “There’s obviously a connection between them.”

-

Men like you are the reason I left Finland. Men like you are the reason I left Finland. A sip of water. Men like you are the reason I left Finla—

“What are you even talking about?” Lando groans from his seat. Peeking over at him, you shrug, and continue mumbling. “For the love of God, must you keep repeating yourself? You’re making a simple twenty minute drive feel like four hours—stop it already.” 

Coldly glaring at him, you pinch your face like a clam and point a narrow finger at him. “Men like you are the reason I left Finland.”

The Brit lets out a scream and jumps towards you, slapping a large hand over your mouth. You squirm for a good minute before biting down, forcing him to pull away with a sudden hiss. “Rascal.”

The view was breathtaking; the white snow, the green trees, the sunlight beaming from afar. His agenda continued and you kept tagging along. You’ve never visited, so everything was a pleasing journey. Staring out the foggy window of the van, you pout, pondering. “You’ve seriously never watched Confessions of a Shopaholic?”

“A Cock-A-Who?”

You laugh. “Not even close. I’m not doing this again.”

You’re sure you get frostbite by the end of the day, but the Northern Lights make up for it. After snapping a couple thousand pictures, you finally settle down on the snow next to him. “Hey.” A white puff exits his mouth, chapped lips. 

“Hey.”

The silence prolongs, then you let out a sore cough, taking a sip of hot chocolate. You can’t help but roll your eyes when you barely get a drop, realizing he had finished it all while you weren't looking. “Out of all the places we’ve been to, this has to be my favorite.” You direct your attention over to him. “Thank you for bringing me along. It means a lot.”

“Ah. Don’t mention it.”

You hum. “I never get bored of you.” You can hear his snowsuit scratch as he shifts to face you, wide eyes admiring the colorful lights. “I keep thinking I might—even just a little bit—but I don’t. It’s weird.”

He chuckles, relaxing. “I’m glad you haven’t. We’ve been traveling for a while now, so if that were the case, then I’d be worried.”

Pursing your lips, you let out a sheepish grin. “You’re like…the Suze to my Rebecca.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Finally, you turn to him, taking in his puppy lost state. Specks of snowflakes cling onto his long lashes, the bridge of his nose is beet red, a hint of dried blood coats his overly frozen lips. Patting his shoulder, you let out a light whistle.

“Let’s just say, I never want to leave Finland.”

-

The season picks up once again, and so do the travels. But they’re not the same. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it’s not only you two anymore. Sure, you have your friends, but…it’s not the same. The thought alone is confusing, but you don’t let yourself think about it too long. Running after Oscar, you hand him a black binder. “What's this?”

“Not sure. Zak just wants you to read over it before the meeting.”

Frantically, he skims the white pages, flipping eagerly. You giggle. “I know it looks bad, but it’s not!” The Australian barely has a chance to protest before you skip away, shooting a quick thumbs up. “Take notes!”

Reaching the familiar dressing room, you find yourself gently knocking, foot tapping against the tiles. He swings open with a loopy grin. “Hey.”

“Hey.” A beat. “Meeting in ten minutes. Don’t be late.”

He nods. “Is there anything I should go over?”

You shake your head, extending a singular piece of paper towards the British driver. “As long as you go over these notes, then you’ll do just fine.” You take a step back. “Ten, Lando, ten.”

“Got it.”

You’re the last one entering the crowded conference room, teasing snickers spilling from McLaren colleagues. Zak claps loudly. “Great! Let’s get started.”

You’re bored halfway through, zoned out, doodling onto your notebook. You were aware of everything, so you suppose it didn’t really matter. Gray led slides coolly. A sharp sound rips you away from your daydreaming as you look up, eyes flickering between the three main men.

“I wasn’t aware there was any special treatment.” His accent is laced with humor, brown eyes drifting over to you. You curl a brow at Oscar. 

Zak chuckles. “I wasn’t either.” 

Once the meeting is adjourned, Lando strolls over to where you sprawl onto a row of chairs, blanked out. He swallows a chuckle down. “You alright?”

“What have I done?” You sit up, maniatic eyes dancing . “I’ve never done that before—not intentionally.”

The Brit closes an eye teasingly before releasing. “The notes?”

Leaping up, you march over to him. “Yes, the notes! Since when do I sum up things for your benefit? God, I didn’t even think about Oscar…”

“I’m sure you weren’t thinking straight. We all know you like to help both of us out.”

A queasy feeling flips inside of you as you tilt your head. He was right. You got caught up, made one set of bullet points, and coincidentally gave it to Lando. No further meaning.

“I need coffee.”

-

As soon as you bolted out of McLaren Hospitality, Lando made his way through the paddock. “Norris,” a deep voice calls out. Alex grins widely, jogging closer. 

“Done for the day?”

Alex nods. “What about you?”

“I think so. Had my last meeting. Reckon I should be good.”

The Williams drivers shimmies with a low chuckle. “Why are you still here then?”

The Brit freezes. “I actually don’t know…”

Huh, Alex hums. 

“You’re looking for someone?”

He unfreezes, chest tightening. “I don’t know.”

-

“Hey, hey, watch out.”

“Daniel!” you shriek. He lets out a toothy smile, extending his arm out as a silent greeting, cup of coffee in hand. You rip it away, taking a large chug. “Thank you—gotta to go.”

“Wait.” He reaches for the hem of your shirt, stopping you from slipping away. “Are you okay? You look a bit…” He motions a crazy sign. You glare back at him. 

“I need air, I need air,” you gasp, zigzagging past him. Running after you, he hauls you into the nearest restroom. You screech, panicking. “Air, Daniel, air.”

“What happened?”

Something in his voice tells you he knows. You don’t want him to know. How could anyone know what you don’t even know? No one can know. 

“You’re right—I’m losing my mind.” You step out of his embrace. “Let me out before I kill you.”

Brown eyes stare back in amusement. “You can be honest with me.”

“I’ll scream, Daniel.”

“Be honest with yourself.”

“I’m a black belt. My limits are endless.”

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it.”

You close your eyes, groan, and kick the wall. “Shit, I like Lando.”

Heavy pants, desperate huffs. Anticipating eyes, nervous fiddling with your hair. His lack of response makes it all worse. 

Daniel clicks his tongue. “I knew it.”

-

“Want anything?” he asks, gazing up at the wall of foreign treats. Singapore knew what they were doing. Your voice catches, releases, then wave him off. Weird, he thinks to himself, but continues to pay for his own sweets. The way you prance around the small convenient store makes him smile, occasionally making sure you were still there.

“I won’t be going to the next race. Thought you should know.”

It obviously catches him off guard as he spins to face you with a neutral expression. He’s good at hiding things—feelings. 

“I…um…” He coughs. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s my Nana’s birthday.” A beat. “She only has so many left, dude.”

The Brit would love to relax and laugh at your dark humor, but one simple word makes him deflate, nodding along with a sheepish look. He hands you a bag of penguin gummies. “From me, to her.”

The colorful bag crunches against your touch, awkwardly beaming at it, then looking up into his soft stare. “She has diabetes, but thanks.”

-

He realizes just how much he misses you once you jump onto the plane back home. He had been kind enough to offer to drive you to the airport, and you had been rude enough to decline. A weak exchange of words ensued between you two before reluctantly coming to an agreement.

Here is fine!

Blue eyes wander the busy drop off zone; humming with concern. 

Let me help you with your bags, then.

No! Drive safe, Lando. Oh—and make sure to take your vitamins! 

The British driver wonders why he feels different; pacing the room back and forth. Vitamin C is important. He eyes his watch. That’s probably why—he forgot to take them. Or maybe it was his biotin. 

“Mate! You have my charger!” The twenty-four year old gazes at his taking door and makes his way over. Daniel stands with loopy eyes, half shaved mustache. “Bon Iver died mid-For Emma, so you better hurry and give it to me.”

“I have it right here, chill.” The Australian invited himself in, brown orbs flickering carefully through the dark room. He chuckles. 

“Can’t find your birth control?”

Lando cocks his head to the side, recognizing his mess that lies on the floor. The orange bottles make him stutter, briskly pushing the white charger towards his friend. “B6, I’m looking for my—” A nervous hand runs through his messy hair. “Got what you need? Great. Off you go.”

“Ah, ah—hold on a second; is that my girl, Isla Fisher?”

The Brit cackles, remembering about his open computer. “How do you know?”

Daniel plops down. “Confessions of a Shopaholic? Classic. Heidi loves it.”

The brunette hums, finding a spot next to the Aussie. “Who’s Suze?”

“Have you not been paying attention?”

“I’ve been looking for my calcium!”

The thirty-four year old pouts. “I thought it was your R2-D2?”

“Clever.” 

A Tim Burton looking girl comes on-screen, perfect bangs hanging just above her brows. The redhead and black haired duo exchange a small phone back and forth, panic evident. “That’s Suze. She’s Becky’s best friend. They go through a bit of a rough patch, but they come back together, don’t worry.”

“Suze? Rebe…” He pales. “Friends?”

“You thought they were lesbos?”

Lando shakes his head, harshly. “What about Finland?”

“A fantasy land, sort of.” Daniel props up against his elbows. “It’s her getaway from all her debt. It’s real, but it’s not real.” The blue eyed boy’ shoulders droop furthermore as he watches the scene play out.

“Friends…”

Chomping down on a mysterious pill, Daniel shrugs. “Mhm. Just friends.”

-

It’s safe to say that you’re refreshed. You thought things through—you could never speak about your sudden realization. This probably happens all the time, all around the world, nothing to see here. Your feelings were there, but they wouldn’t be your downfall. Not when he mattered this much to you. 

“Read over this. Pay close attention to three and seven—Zak is going to ask you about it.” Lando hums slowly, eyes tracing your beauty. You’re a shade tanner due to your small vacation, if you can call it that, and that somehow tugs at his heart. If he pays close enough attention, then he could point out a few new freckles. “Any questions?”

He blinks. “Zero. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.”

Something has shifted inside of him, something…new? Every chance he gets, he would peek and admire the way you laugh with a couple of the engineers, with Zak. Then, he would have to pinch and remind himself that he was your friend; nothing more, nothing less.

“Any additional notes? Oscar? Lando?”

Raising your hand timidly, you beam. “If I could suggest one thing, maybe we can keep the floor the same? I know we spoke on how a drastic change can possibly lengthen our kph, but if we actually think about it, then we would be able to see that it’ll only worsen things. It’s perfect, really, where it’s at. What we should be focusing on instead are other areas. Find ways to lighten the car, mark our attention to the aerodynamics.” Red creeps carefully onto your cheeks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you shrug. “Just a…thought.”

Zak hums, crossing his arms in deep thought. “We could do that…we could definitely do that.” He grins. “Boys?”

“Anything to make us faster, count me in,” Oscar agrees, voice steady.

“We should change it.”

Everyone turns to face the twenty-four year old. Pens glide faster, keys click harder, and you stumble clumsily. “Sorry?”

Lando tsks. “I like what you were saying, but we need to change it in order to stand a chance against the Red Bulls. They’ve cracked the code, and we’re so close. We need to adapt.”

You burn up. “I’m sorry, but I disagree, Lando. Things should stay the same. Same is safe. Change is…” You lick your lips, biting down momentarily. “Not necessary. Not when things are already good where they’re at.”

The British driver hisses. Oscar jumps at the cold sound. “Safe is a pussy move. How will you ever know what could have happened? One thing can flip everything around.” His eyes soften. “A-and put us in front of the grid for good. Good, good.”

Caught in the flame, you grit your teeth together. Who were you to have a say after all? Your attention circles the quiet room before nodding stiffly. “Alrighty then.”

-

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

Lando frantically chases after you, shoes squeaking with every drastic turn. “I was just being honest!”

The sudden speed you turn back to face him with makes him flinch, forced to come to a halt. He can practically see the fumes exiting your body. “But did you have to say it in that tone?”

“What tone? I didn’t have a tone.”

“Yes! Yes, you did!” You continue your march. “Oh, hi! I’m Lando Norris, professional Formula One driver, who knows everything you don’t.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“You’re right. You sound worse.” A huff. “Listen, I’m not actually mad, but I do need time to myself, so can you please…” You motion him away and he scoffs. Are you being serious right now? “I am! Leave!”

He sort of replicates a zombie, the way he drags his feet back to hospitality. Was he really ready for any of this? He liked you, a lot, but things like this would eventually stir up in any relationship, and maybe he didn’t have the strength in him to fix things yet. But if you stayed friends, then…yeah. Things would stubbornly fix themselves.

You, on the other hand, have a sudden bounce in your step. A stride. This is what you needed. Suddenly, your stupid little crush wasn’t as important as you had imagined. Fights would bubble between you two if you ever dared cross the invisible line, and you weren’t the biggest fan in facing them. Friends. That’s all this was.

Daniel crosses Lando first, intrigued by his dead-like state. “What’s up with you now?”

The Brit blinks. “I’m no Luke, Danny.” He kicks a rock. “I’m fine, however, being a Suze.”

Son of a bitch, the Australian thinks as he watches his friend stroll away. He actually paid attention. 

Placing his headphones back onto his head, he continues his walk down the paddock, confused. When you make your way with a bright smile, he, too, reciprocates. Your lips move fast, hand gestures flying theatrically, and he can’t hear a single thing. The Alpha Tauri driver snakes his hand to slip them off once again. “Having a g’day?”

“Best,” you beam. “Connection lost.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (cont.)

MC: *seeing all the injured devils*

MC: *looks at that one demon who only has his head*

MC: ...

MC: Get better soon.

The bodyless devil: *croaks a thank you*

MC: ...

MC: Hey, Satan. Is Belial still alive or what?

Satan: I've heard he's dead.

MC: So he's in the morgue?

Ppyong: Sir Belial is not dead, aye!

Satan: Huh? That's not what you said before, Ppyong.

Ppyong: You weren't just listening to me, aye.

Leamas and Nina: ...

Nina: Samael...

Leamas: *holds her hand* We'll be safe here, Nina.

Nina: ...

Nina: But for how long? *worried she would lose herself again*

Leamas: ...

Leamas: *smiles* The descendant of Solomon is here.

Leamas: You have witnessed what they can do.

Bimet: *approaches* In honor of our courageous Sir Belial, we kindly ask you to consider making a contribution. *holding a small, golden pot*

MC, Satan, Sitri, and Ppyong: ...

MC: *unloads their gun and drops the remaining bullets into the pot*

Bimet: Hey!

MC: 'Seeds of the Damned'.

Bimet: *his expression turned serious* Ah, it's you. Follow me.

Sitri: Solomon? You know Sir Bimet?

MC: No. It's my first time meeting him.

Satan: Hm? Don't tell me you've met him in your dreams?

Satan: We haven't done anything yet and you're already cheating on me.

MC: *looks at him with a disgusted expression*

Satan: *laughs* Just kidding.

Bimet: Can we go now? You're wasting my time.

MC: Tch.

MC and Bimet: *entered a different room*

Bimet: Your Majesty Mammon, we're here.

Mammon: Thank you for your assistance, Bimet. You can continue with your business now.

Bimet: *bows then exits the room*

MC and Mammon: ...

Mammon: *smiles*

Mammon: Are you here to make a deal with me?

MC: Nah. You said last time (in a dream) that you would do me a favor.

Mammon: *chuckles* Indeed.

Mammon: What is it that you want?

MC: ...

MC: Don't touch my butt. Never EVER touch my butt.

Mammon: ...

Mammon: I thought you would ask me to modify the seeds.

MC: Nah, I need to set my priorities straight. Plus, I can do that myself.

Mammon: ...

Mammon: *smiles* You're an amusing individual. However, have you decided what you will do with that angel and Nina?

MC: ...

MC: I promised them death and that's what I will do.

Mammon: Well then. *returns the bullets to them*

Mammon: I'm sure you're as wise as Solomon.

MC: *raised an eyebrow*

Mammon: I'm not patronizing you.

MC: Good.

MC: Nina, Leamas.

Nina and Leamas: ...

Leamas: Is it time?

MC: Yes. You have explained it to her, haven't you?

Nina: *nods* You promised Samael and I would be together.

MC: That's right.

Nina: *smiles* Thank you, descendant of Solomon.

MC: *has requested an empty room*

MC: *loads their gun*

Nina and Leamas: *quietly waiting*

MC: You can talk to each other while you wait.

Nina: It's fine.

Leamas: We only want to enjoy the peace and quiet.

MC: Is that so? Well, if that helps to calm your nerves.

MC: *points the gun at them*

Leamas: ...

Leamas: We're doing it now?

MC: Yeah? I'm finished with the preparation.

Leamas: ...

Nina: *giggles*

Leamas: *sigh*

Nina and Leamas: *both smiled, holding each other's hand*

MC: I'll shoot you straight in the heart.

MC: It'll hurt a little.

Nina: That's fine.

Leamas: Descendant of Solomon, we will never forget your kindness.

MC: Sure.

Leamas: ...

Nina: Samael!

Leamas: Is that... Nina?

Nina: Samael!

Leamas: Nina...

Nina: SAMAEL!

Leamas: *opens his eyes*

Leamas: Nina?

Nina: *who's back to being a demon* *is in tears, but smiling* Samael...

Leamas: What happened? Didn't we die?

MC: *holding the defibrillators* Yup.

Satan: How are ya' feeling, Leamas?

Leamas: Your Majesty Satan... I feel... weird.

MC: You're having some side effects, but you'll feel better after you have sex.

Leamas: Huh?

Nina: You're no longer an angel now.

Leamas: ...

Leamas: Does that mean-

MC: Yes. I've turned you into a demon.

MC: Which I didn't know I could do.

Leamas: ...

Leamas: *starts to tear up* Descendant of Solomon-

MC: No. Don't. Nina already gave me a hard time.

Nina: *who cried earlier thinking she survived but Leamas didn't* *giggles*

Satan: We should celebrate this success. What do you think?

MC: I'm not going.

Satan: You can't.

MC: The fuck you mean 'I can't'? Let me rest.

Sitri: I agree with Solomon. We can celebrate some other time, Your Majesty.

Satan: Okay. I'll just visit you in your dreams then.

MC: *unamused*

[the-delta-quadrant]

since rishi sunak talked about wanting to ban transgender people from using public bathrooms, i see a lot of talk about "transgender people deserve to feel safe in the bathroom that aligns with their gender".

completely ignoring that such a bathroom doesn't exist for a big chunk of transgender people?

transgender men and women being allowed in the men's and women's bathroom respectively doesn't really do much for nonbinary people at all.

a lot of us feel unsafe in such binary gendered spaces no matter what, already because we can't use them without misgendering ourselves. but it's barely ever taken into account because people love to act like the "transgender bathroom issue" will be solved if we just allow transgender men and women in the men's and women's bathrooms.

even some transgender people act like all gender bathrooms are too much to ask for now, they're something to implement "at some point", they're not a priority, etc. nonbinary people are yet again to wait our turn for safety and comfort. nonbinary people are still basically told even by other transgender people that we shouldn't exist in public spaces if we can't even piss safely. i've seen binary transgender people straight up say nonbinary people who bring this up are "derailing the conversation from what's important", like nonbinary safety doesn't matter.

transgender bathroom ban or not, i feel unsafe in a binary bathroom either way.

for *all* transgender people to safely exist in public life, gendered bathrooms need to be abolished. no safety for some of us without safety for all of us.

[girlgenius1111]

i'll be whatever you need

part 2 of birthdays are supposed to have surprises

alexia x reader angst / fluff no warnings :)

Alexia didn't do anything halfway. Not football, not outfits, and apparently, not training puppies. The woman made schedules for when they were supposed to eat, play, go out, and when you both were supposed to train them. You were less strict about them then your girlfriend would have wanted, sometimes slacking off on the schedule she had imposed.

It felt ridiculous, making them sit, and stay, and roll over, and bark. They did all those things already, when they wanted to! Alexia was adamant, though, that they be well behaved dogs. And, in fairness, you were the reason the two of you had ended up with 2 puppies at one time, so you went along with it.

You weren't bothered by it at first; really, you thought it was cute, how committed Alexia was. And then, it seemed like all she did was go to training and play with the puppies. They were a lot of work, and, as Alexia was on an easier schedule due to her knee injury, she was home with them more. They became attached to her, more attached to her than they were to you. You weren't jealous of your dogs, that would be absurd. You just wished Alexia would pay a bit more attention to you.

-----

It was around week 4 that you became rather fed up. Alexia, for all her insistence on rules with the puppies, was weak when it came to not letting them on the bed.

Finley's cries woke you up, as was customary, his tiny little voice carrying from his crate in the living room, all the way back to the bedroom. He was fine, just a bit lonely. It was still early, and you and Alexia had a rare morning to sleep in, with training scheduled for later afternoon. You reached out for Alexia's shirt, grabbing on and pulling when she tried to get up to go get him.

"No, stay," you said sleepily.

"I will be right back amor, I am just going to get Fin," she whispered, kissing your forehead before pulling away from your grasp. Of course, she didn't just go get Finley, she got Fernando too, entering the room with two hyper puppies in her arms, dumping them unceremoniously on the bed by your face. They both began frantically licking at your face, and you pulled the covers over your head, grumbling loud enough for your girlfriend to hear.

"Hey, they are saying good morning," Alexia said, removing the covers from your head. "Say good morning." She demanded.

"Good morning." You sighed, letting your eyes fall shut again. A soft nip at your nose had you sitting straight up in bed, eyebrows furrowed as you glared down at Fin's little face looking up at you innocently. Alexia was biting back a laugh, holding Fernando in her lap on the other side of the bed.

"Ow, Finley," you scolded, moving to put him on the floor. Alexia's hand stopped you, pulling Fin into her lap as well.

"He is just a baby, amor, be nice."

You gave her an exasperated look, one that didn't seem like you were joking, before rolling over and burying yourself under the covers once again. Alexia stared at your back for a minute, confused. She wasn't sure why you seemed to be so annoyed with her.

"Do you want to come with me on our walk?" She asked, putting the dogs on the floor, and pressing up against your back, leaving a gentle kiss on your ear.

"What time is it?" You asked.

"Already 9:30. I thought we could go to the dog park, and take the puppies to see my mom after."

You went rigid against Alexia. You were supposed to get breakfast at your favorite cafe that morning, at 9. Alexia had said she would wake you up, and you'd leave the puppies to enjoy a morning to yourselves. Evidently, she'd forgotten. It shouldn't have bothered you as much as it did.

"Amor?" Alexia asked, only growing more confused when you shifted away from her.

"No. I'm tired, I'll stay here."

"You do not want to come at all?" Alexia asked, sounding slightly hurt. You couldn't bring yourself to care, not when her priority was clearly the puppies.

"No." You responded harshly, squeezing your eyes shut. Alexia was still for a moment, before she got up from the bed without another word, and began to get dressed.

-----

The dog park was not very fun without you. It was hard to watch both puppies, and Alexia decided to cut the trip short, especially when her mom called and asked to reschedule her visit because she had come down with a cold. She was getting increasingly worried about your behavior the longer she was away from you She wasn't quite sure what your problem was, but she was hoping that your grumpiness would have resolved by the time she got home.

You were out of bed, dressed and messing around in the kitchen when she got home. You were still acting kind of... off. You greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek, instead of on her lips. You looked paler than normal , and eventually ended up lounging on the couch while she trained with the dogs. She was working on getting them to follow simple commands, like sitting and staying. They were not very good listeners. She was completely wrapped up in the puppies, while you watched on sullenly.

"Fin, venga. Siéntate." Fin stared at her for a moment before clumsily sitting down. "Buen chico," Alexia cooed, giving him a treat.

You cracked a small smile, before letting out a quiet sigh. You didn't feel right today; you weren't sure why, maybe because you were still kind of upset with Alexia, who remained oblivious. Either way, you just wanted to lay in your girlfriend's arms.

"Ale?" You called.

"Hmm?" She responded distractedly, not looking over at you.

"Will you come lay with me?" You asked.

"Not right now, amor, once I am done with the puppies' training I will." Alexia told you. You felt ridiculously rejected, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

"Okay." You said, getting off the couch and hurrying back into the bedroom. Your voice was shaky, and Alexia turned around just in time to see the door shut behind you. She was confused, not quite sure why you were seemingly upset. She stood, abandoning the dogs completely to follow you down the hall.

"Amor? What's happened?" Alexia said, peeking in through the door to see you curled up on the bed, head tucked into your pillow, hiding your face. You didn't respond, simply burrowing further into the bed. Alexia walked around to her side, climbing over to where your back was turned to her.

"Amor, please," she said. Still, there was no response from you. Alexia pulled on your shoulder, ignoring your resistance, out from under the throw blanket and onto your side, facing her. She noticed dried tear tracks on your cheeks.

"¿Por qué estás llorando?" She said urgently, wiping at your face with her thumb as if the tears disappearing would make your sadness go away too.

You pushed her hands away, blinking away a wave of fresh tears at the distraught look on your girlfriend's face. If it wasn't bad enough that you were crying, for an absurd reason, but now you were going to have to explain it to Alexia.

"I'm fine." You replied, but Alexia shook her head, pressing the lightest of kisses on your nose.

"What is it?" She asked again, holding your face in between her hands.

"It's stupid." You mumbled.

"If it is making you upset, it is not stupid. Tell me, please."

"You forgot about breakfast." You told her quietly, avoiding her gaze, even as you saw understanding flash across her face. You still felt so stupid, being upset over something so small. It just didn't feel small. It felt like Alexia was using any excuse she could to avoid you.

"No, amor, I am so sorry." Alexia whispered, pulling you into an almost suffocating embrace. "I am so, so sorry."

"It's fine." You mumbled into her.

"No, it is not fine. You were so excited about it. I was busy with the puppies, and I completely forgot." The blonde explained.

"You're busy with them a lot, recently." You said softly, embarrassment flushing across your face as Alexia pulled away to look intently at you.

Alexia is silent for a moment, thinking about the past few weeks. She hadn't realized how she'd put you to the side, spending most of her time training, or focused on the dogs.

You mistook her silence for annoyance. "It's okay, Alexia, please don't worry about it."

"I have not been spending much time with you recently, have I? Between getting back on the pitch, and the dogs..." Alexia trailed off, looking rather horrified at herself.

"It wasn't- it wasn't on purpose then?"

Alexia's eyes flew to yours, her jaw dropping at what you'd said. You knew you were wrong, then, that you'd been silly. There was no way to take back what you'd said.

"No, amor. Of course it was not on purpose." Alexia told you. She yanked you forward into her arms again, squeezing tight. "You thought it was on purpose?"

"I don't know, I was just... worried. You know how I get."

She did, she was well aware of how insecure you could get for seemingly no reason. Normally, she could recognize when you were heading that direction, and stop it before you began to completely doubt yourself. This time, though, she hadn't done that.

"Pack a bag." Alexia said suddenly, pulling away and sliding out of bed, heading into the closet.

"What?" You questioned, sitting up, confused at the sudden change in her demeanor.

"We a have a day off tomorrow, and we will take the day after that off too. We will go away for the weekend, leave the dogs with Alba."

"Ale, what?"

Alexia didn't take days off. Neither did you, really.

"Get up, pack, venga mi niña, time is wasting!" Alexia responded, peeking out of the closet with a large smile on her face.

"Are you being serious?" You laughed. She sighed, dropping the stack of shirts she was holding, moving closer to take your face in her hands.

"Dead serious. I need time with my girl, no interruptions. You need the same, yes?"

You nodded, smiling shyly up at her.

"Good. I will pack your favorite strap!" Alexia smirked, backing away from you when you blushed, and swatted at her. You stared after her in disbelief, as she headed back into the closet, leaving a mess of clothes in her wake.

"Come on, come on, come on!" She yelled excitedly.

You got out of bed, smiling to yourself. Alexia was not a spontaneous person, that was all you. As evidenced by the 2 puppies sitting in your living room currently. She would always be what you needed of her, though. Even if it didn't come naturally to her; she'd be whatever you needed. Always.

-----

shorter than i was planning, but perhaps it's because i didn't want to rush the smut i was planning at the end. so. be on the lookout for part 3 :) it'll be dirty 😈

[thegoldencontracts]

ONE OF MY TWST OCS IS A TOTAL TSUNDERE WHAT THE HELL

Make twst tsundere content, I DARE you(I'd say I'd match you with content of my own, however it is drama and science finals week and I'd rather not burn myself out on more than one front bc my english final is next week. So I will not guarantee that lmao BUT STILL THAT SOUNDS AWESOME MAKE THAT CONTENT I WILL EAT IT UP)

- thoughtlessdesires

THANK YOU SOMEONE ELSE WHO UNDERSTANDSSSSS

Hello, you there, yes, YOU 🫵 can help make tsundere twst by uhh... idek man it's tsundere twst,,, it's cuteee i swearrr imagine THIS:

I-It's Not Like I Like You!

Summary: The Housewardens deal with their affection in the oddest of ways.

Notes: This is a taste of what we can make possible GUYS tsundere!twst is cute and it's not ridiculously ooc or smth like that i SWEAR- Also the last sentence in Azul's part is literally ripped straight from the third part of his dorm vignette (the tsundere potential of this man is so understated guys PLEASE let me yap here I have a point-)

Night Raven College; a place of raw meritocracy. Sentiment is rarely found, and affection is often mocked. Logic and strength are meant to take priority, and discord between students is common.

So what happens where these students find someone who treats them with kindness, understanding.

...Completely flounder, of course.

The housewardens, during one of their meetings, even discussed the dearest Ramshackle Prefect, so odd, so understanding. Kalim had brought the topic up, of course.

"...Why's this important?" Leona had said, a bored look on his face.

"I-Indeed," Riddle said. "The Prefect isn't particularly relevant to our current topic of discussion, regardless of accomplishments."

Azul sighed in his typical, overdramatic manner of his.

"How cold!" he said. "Kalim was merely doing his duty to discuss the needs of all students, regardless of how-"

His nose wrinkled.

"Talentless."

"Well, the Prefect's not that bad." A lukewarm praise. Even Kalim wasn't speaking highly of the Prefect? Just what was going on here?

"A total normie," Idia had said.

"It's true, the potato could use some work," Vil said,

Wow. These housewardens sure did hate you, didn't they?

Wrong! At that moment, all of the, were lying! They liked you. And no one in that room had any clue how to deal with it.

Riddle hasn't ever really got to experience relationships due to the stifling pressure of his mother. Thus, he has absolutely no clue how to handle the sudden affection for you he feels. He'd often stop by Ramshackle to help you with your homework. Just because you happened to need it way more than the others, of course. N-No ulterior motives here. What do you mean 'his face is red'? You're just imagining things!

Leona's always been treated like a cold, uncaring individual, and that's what he's used to. That leaves him completely flabbergasted when you suddenly start making him lovesick. He happens to "accidentally" drop money and the like while you were near. Not that he wants to help you, of course! He just doesn't really care about the money that much. Why're you looking at him like that? He's not that kind of sap!

Azul's childhood's left him used to rejection. After so long of being mocked for any desire of love and companionship, he's shunned it. Love's just business to him, an easily exploitable emotion. So he'll never be able to admit it now that he's the exploitable one. He gives you stuff... for free? Since when did he do that? Ask him about it and he insists he's just doing it for business' sake. What kind of business? Is he sure he doesn't just like you? W-What sort of foolish questions are those? Do you honestly think him capable of such an illogical sentiment as "attachment"?

Kalim, of course, isn't immune. Even he doesn't understand this. Someone actively returning his kindness? He's absolutely in love, and he doesn't know how to handle it. Although he won't be quite as abrasive as the others, he'll definitely struggle to admit his feelings. He might actually be less nice to you than to others. Not in a rude way, of course, he's just a bit quiet because he's always so flustered around you! Can you blame him?

Vil, too, despite his normal mentality of being candid and mature, struggles to handle his affection. He'll buy you skincare and the like. B-But, he'd do this for anyone, of course. There's nothing particularly special about the way he feels for you! Once again, though he isn't particularly defensive, he'll definitely struggle to admit his feelings, and it causes him boatloads of internal conflict. Why's he being so immature all of a sudden?

Idia doesn't get you. Why'd some normie suddenly have to start talking to him? J-Jeez, it's not like he enjoys your company or anything! Idia can vaguely recognize the word 'tsundere' in his head as he mulls over his interactions with you, but he denies it. Denying his feelings? U-Uh, what feelings?

"Looks like you have some competition, huh?"

"What competition, Lilia?" Malleus's face twisted in displeasure. "The Child Of Man- they're merely a friend."

Malleus doesn't know how to feel. He's never really had these sorts of close relationships before, so when his heart pounds around you and sparks seem to fly, he has no clue what to do. He's so deep in denial, partially due to his obliviousness when it comes to matters of sentiment and partially due to how he's used to being intimidating, and blushing like a schoolgirl around one's crush is the opposite of intimidating.

[amenemisa]

Yeah very well, i read a fiction about him and we have a sleepy eating severus :')

I usually like to draw his hair straight and slightly wavy, but this time we have a severus like this. I'll leave you a short paragraph here~

°°°

“Afternoon Severus,” Professor McGonagall chirped.

“Afternoon,” Snape muttered, sluggishly dragging himself into his usual seat at the teachers’ table.

“Is everything alright? You look positively drained.”

“I did not get much sleep,” he grumbled, sipping on a cup of coffee.

Unfortunately for Snape, his “morning business” commenced quite literally at the crack of dawn. After his rounds concluded at 3 AM, he crashed into bed only to bitterly rouse a couple of hours later to receive and compartmentalize a large shipment of potion supplies. He skipped breakfast to acquire some much-needed slumber and he still wanted to crawl back into bed as he ate his lunch. His hair was a bit unkempt and ruffled from bedhead, but he didn’t care as his physical appearance wasn't a top priority to him.

...

He’s dragging.

You had noticed the drowsy state of the potion’s master when he entered the Great Hall for lunch. His typical determined strides were slower and seemed heavier. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that Professor Snape was tired. Pair his movements with his bedhead as well as the slow pace he ate his meal and you have your answer. Snape was typically always the last to arrive for meals, but he was always the first to leave as well; today not being the case as he chewed at a snail’s pace, his head slightly resting against his hand. Meanwhile, you had already finished your lunch, even after slowing down your own pace. You wanted to leave the Great Hall, but you would feel guilty if his notice of your departure possibly inclined him to rush. It didn’t matter to you what time you went to Hogsmeade. Perhaps if you were discrete…?

°°°

Here is the fiction ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ

[marvelsmylife]

Priorities

Pairing: Cassian x reader

Plot: Cassian used to say it was you and him against the world. Now, you’d be lucky if he even looks your direction.

“You know I would choose you.” “That’s the thing. I don’t.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Because you haven’t chosen me. Not in a very, very long time.”

-King of Greed

A/n I’m not going to lie, this one is ANGSTY ! ! ! !

Masterlist

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Ana Huang Quotes Drabbles Masterlist

The day Cassian, the lord of bloodshed met you, his mate, he promised to always be by your side. He would protect you and would frequently say that it was you and him against the world. He promised nothing, and no one would get in between your love, and he kept that promise until Hybern happened.

Ever since then, Rhysand has been hard on everyone to get him information on what the king of Hybern was doing. He was especially hard on Cassian and Azriel, but Azriel sometimes had the decency to say no. Especially if he knew what Rhysand was asking for was unnecessary.

Cassian, however, followed Rhysand’s command without question and often blew you off to please the high lord. You thought this would be a faze, and he would revert to his old self, but you were sorely mistaken.

You realized Cassian wasn’t going to change the night of your anniversary. With the help of Feyre, Nesta, and Elain, you set up a dinner with his favorite foods in a beautifully decorated room. Feyre, Nesta, and Elain volunteered to help bring out your dinner to just so they could see Cassian’s reaction. Cassian usually gushed about how you would go all out for your anniversary, but tonight, Cassian completely ignored your presence.

Feyre, Elain, and Nesta sent you sympathetic looks as they watched Cassian walk past you and walked straight toward your shared room. The sisters were going to say something to make you feel better when you said, “I can’t do this anymore,” before following Cassian into your shared room.

Once inside, you spotted Cassian getting undressed and getting ready to shower. A smirk appeared on Cassian's face when he saw you and teased, “You just can’t stay away, can you? I think we can squeeze a quicky in the shower before I have to report to Rhys.”

“I’m moving out,” you told Cassian bluntly.

Cassian’s body went still at your words because he had no idea if you were joking, “Can I ask why?”

“I’m surprised you suddenly care for an explanation,” you replied while packing your things, “But if you must know, I’m tired of being last on your priority list. For the past six months, you’ve chosen to follow Rhysand’s command and disregard the plans we have to please our high lord. I deserve a male who will choose me first, and clearly, you’re not that male, at least not anymore.”

A frown appeared on Cassian’s face as he felt nothing but sadness through the bond, “Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. You know I would choose you.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t.” A tear slipped down your cheek. “Because you haven’t chosen me. Not in a very, very long time.”

Cassian wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness when Rhysand walked into your room. “Ah, Cassian, there you are. I know you just got home, but I need you to do recon at the autumn court. I have a feeling- wait, is everything ok here?” Rhysand asked once he took in both you and Cassian’s appearance.

“Peachy,” you replied sarcastically before looking at Cassian, “Cassian is all yours, as always.”

Rhysand gave you a puzzled look as you walked out of the room with suitcases in your hands. “What just happened?” Rhysand asked.

“I ruined my relationship with my mate, and I didn’t even realize it,” Cassian whispered as he tried not to cry in front of his brother. 

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of the proposal, Bradley wants to make sure all three of you are on the same page. And as happy as you are, you're still having a hard time deciding how to best merge your past with your future.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley held you in the grass for a long time while you clutched that baseball in your hand. He couldn't remember another time he felt so calm as Everett ran around in the grass tossing a ball up in the air and catching it. 

"Will you move in now?" you asked, setting your heart covered baseball in the grass and running your fingers along Bradley's mustache and stubble. "Ev and I both really want you to."

"Yeah, Kitten. I'll move in," he promised. "Right after the three of us have a conversation about expectations, okay? It's really important to me that we're all on the same page."

"Oh my god," you groaned, crawling up his body to get better access to his lips. "How are you this perfect?"

"I just needed to get my priorities straight," he said between kisses. "I never meant to hurt you like I did before, you know that, right? I just never in a million years thought that I'd meet anyone like you and Ev and fall in love so hard."

You just whimpered and snuggled up on him again. But once Everett started bugging to play baseball again, you pulled Bradley to his feet. This time Bradley put on the catcher's gear and let Everett pitch to you, which was honestly pretty funny. 

"Am I good enough to play on the rec league, too?" you asked as you missed another pitch.

"No," Bradley and Everett replied in unison as you laughed. 

"But that's okay, Mommy! Bradley loves you anyway even though you aren't that good at baseball."

"That's true," Bradley replied, removing the mask when they were done playing. "Being good at baseball was not a prerequisite. She just needed to understand and appreciate our love of the Phillies," he added, giving Everett a high five.

"Can we come to your game?" Everett asked, eyes wide as Bradley scooped him up along with his gear bag. You carried the bucket of balls back to the Bronco with your special ball right on the top of the pile. 

"Kiddo, you can come to as many games as you want. And later today or tomorrow, we can talk about me moving into your house, okay?"

"Okay!"

"But I'm not going to stay in the extra bedroom," he said seriously. "So we can talk about that too." He wanted Everett to understand that he wasn't going anywhere, and that he was going to marry you as soon as he could. As soon as you wanted to. 

Once he got Everett buckled in, he helped you load everything into the back. You had some grass stains on your shirt, and your clothes were all rumpled, and Bradley was so in love with all of it.

"Come here," he whispered with a smile as you slipped into his arms right where you belonged. "Can we get married tomorrow?" You laughed and he buried his face against your neck. "Please, Kitten? I'm dying for it now!"

"Bradley, we've been engaged for an hour."

"That's a pretty long time," he replied, enjoying the feel of your hips in his hands. 

"We can talk about this later." You giggled and kissed him until Everett started whining that he was starving for lunch.

---------------------------

The Independence Day party at Maverick's hangar was in full swing by the time the three of you arrived in the Bronco. There was almost nowhere to park, but Bradley found a spot next to Bob's truck. 

"Bob came?" you asked, eyeing his truck. "I think Molly's working today. Something about double overtime."

"I don't know why she didn't just take the day off," Bradley mused, killing the engine. "Does she really need the extra pay? It's not like Bob isn't her glorified sugar daddy now."

"What's a sugar daddy?" Everett asked from the backseat.

You glared at Bradley and muttered, "Yeah, Bradley. Try explaining that one to a seven year old."

He had the decency to look a little concerned before turning back to look at your son. "Uh... I think that Bob bought a lot of candy for your Aunt Molly."

"Ohhh," Everett replied. "Yeah, that makes sense, because she likes snacks. Do you think he'd buy some for me, too?"

Bradley cleared his throat and nodded slowly. "I think so. Just as long as you don't call him a sugar daddy," he muttered.

"Ev, why don't you go say hi to Bob and Natasha," you said, pointing out the window. "I see them right there. But don't tell anyone about the baseball ring yet, okay?"

"Okay!" Ev called, and then you and Bradley were alone in the front seat, and you started laughing.

"Really? A sugar daddy?" you asked.

"I'm sorry, Kitten! I'm still new to all this dad stuff."

Your lips parted in a soft smile as you unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled toward your fiance. "But you're already really good at it," you told him when he welcomed you onto his lap. "It's like you were tailor-made for us."

You kissed along Bradley's neck and he pulled you snug against him. "The two of you are perfect for me," he grunted, watching the sunlight catch your diamond ring. "Let's get married soon?"

"Okay," you agreed, your lips teasing his ear. 

"Did Danny ever give you a ring?" he asked, unable to help himself. 

"No. And I should have never married him. He obviously didn't want to but felt obligated to."

"I hate that guy," Bradley growled. "I'll be so much better."

"You already are," you promised him. "But would you mind if we don't tell anyone we're engaged yet?" you asked, and Bradley pulled away from you. He watched you remove your ring and reach for the glovebox. 

"Why not?" he asked, clearly upset as you put the ring inside and closed it.

You quickly placed a dozen little kisses at the corner of his mouth. "I want to tell Molly first. That's all."

"Oh," he replied, nodding as he rubbed his hands along your legs. "Sure, Kitten. We can tell Molly first."

You liked how he said we, like you were all part of a team now.

"I love you, Coach," you whispered, kissing him before you hopped down out of the driver's door and into the hot sunlight. Bradley jumped down behind you with his hand at your back, and he led you toward Everett.

"Mommy! Can we get changed and go play in the splash pad? Please?" he begged just as Nat strolled up and gave Bradley a kiss on the cheek. 

"I'll take him over," she said. "I've already got my bathing suit on, and Mav set up some changing stalls."

"Thanks, Nat," you replied, handing Everett his swim bag. 

"Kitten," Bradley groaned, wrapping his arms around you. "It's killing me not to tell her we're engaged."

You giggled and tucked your hand up inside his shirt. "You can tell her tomorrow, okay? Just let me tell Molly first."

Bradley just melted into your touch. He had his hands all over you the rest of the day as you ate burgers and chatted with everyone. He even ducked inside the tiny changing tent with you, kissing you all over as you tried to put on your leopard print bathing suit.

"I haven't seen this since the tee ball swim party," he groaned, slipping his index and middle fingers underneath the strap at your shoulder and pulling you closer. "I love it when you dress up like a kitten for me."

You bit your lip. "I did wear this to the pool party just so you'd notice it."

"Mmm," he hummed, letting his fingers stroke your nipple through the fabric. "Oh... I noticed it, Baby."

You let his hands slip lower to your hips. "And now, after you move in, I can dress up for you all the time."

"Fuck," he groaned, his lips finding the pulse point in your neck and sucking gently. "Please, let's get married next week."

You laughed softly and shook your head. "We'll talk about it later, Coach. You need to get changed so we can go splash with Ev." Then you brushed his erection softly with your hand before ducking outside. 

When you walked away, you heard him cursing softly, and the smile on your face felt like it was stuck there permanently. You were getting married. A second time. To Bradley. A man who loved your son every bit as much as he loved you. And he wasn't afraid to show it or talk about it. He wasn't afraid to let you know what you meant to him. You had never experienced anything like this before.

"Mommy!" Ev called out, soaking wet and holding up two water balloons.

"Don't you dare!" you told him, but he just held one out to you.

"Let's get Bradley," he whispered, looking past you. When you turned, you saw him heading your way in his swim trunks, pushing his aviators up on his nose. 

You nodded at Everett. "Absolutely." And then you watched as your balloon managed to hit Bradley in the shoulder right after Everett's hit him square in the chest.

Bradley looked up in shock. "Oh, it's on," he growled, and you tried to hide behind Everett as Bradley stormed closer with a playfully angry look on his face. 

"We need more balloons!" Everett screamed, pulling you toward a large bucket filled with them. Then the two of you launched dozens of water balloons at Bradley. Everett's accuracy was a lot better than yours, and Bradley pretended he was getting more and more wounded with each balloon he took to his body.

"You're too good!" he gasped at Everett, dropping to his knees on the splash pad while Everett laughed. Then he ran over and tackled Bradley with a big hug. You could hear Bradley tell him, "Hey, your pitches are looking great, kiddo," while Everett hugged him around the neck. "So proud of you."

"Thanks, Coach," Everett replied, and Bradley kissed him on the top of his head before scooping him up and standing. 

"But I don't know if I can trust the two of you now," Bradley said, squeezing your butt as he walked toward the sprinkler. "Some family you turned out to be. Getting me soaked before I was ready." He walked into the spray of water, and you listened to Everett scream with laughter as Bradley got both of them even more soaked.

Then Nat and Bob joined in, and you wished Molly was here. Because you had to be the one to remind Bob to put on more sunblock in her absence. And you didn't want to text her a picture of your ring, you wanted to tell her in person about it. You wanted her to see it and be excited for you. 

If she had the day off tomorrow, you'd try to stop by after work and tell her. But for now you'd just enjoy the rest of the first day of your engagement. You ran toward the sprinkler and wrapped your arms around Bradley.

----------------------------

"That's a familiar sight," Maverick said as the sun was dipping lower in the sky. Bradley gave him a funny look as he held a very sleepy Everett in his arms. "It's just that you look so much like Goose. And Everett looks like he could be your son." The words hit Bradley right in the heart.

"I want him to be," he managed, voice raspy with emotion. 

Mav nodded and grinned before looking at the ground. "You picked a good one." Bradley looked where Mav tilted his head and saw you talking to Bob. "Well, both of them."

He held Everett a little tighter as he slept, head on Bradley's shoulder. "Thanks."

Mav patted him on the back as he took Everett to the Bronco where he started to stir. "Where are we going?" he asked in a sleepy little voice that made Bradley smile.

"Home. You can sleep until we get there. Gonna watch fireworks on the back deck and have a snack."

Everett just nodded and then fell back asleep, his head tipped to the side. Bradley buckled him in and waited patiently for you to finish saying goodbye to Bob. 

"You think he'll be my brother-in-law someday?" you asked with a laugh as you climbed in next to Bradley and glanced back to check on Everett. 

"You know," Bradley said, scratching his chin as he started the engine, "yeah, I do."

"Good," you replied, opening the glove box as Bradley drove down the long drive to the main road and turned toward the sunset. He breathed a sigh of relief as you slid your ring back onto your finger and examined it in the golden light.

"It's so pretty," you whispered, taking Bradley's hand in yours. "Thanks for letting Ev help pick it out."

Bradley scoffed and squeezed your fingers gently. "You think I could have done it without him? Not a chance. I almost texted Molly for final approval."

Your laughter filled the Bronco, and Bradley smiled as he got on the highway toward your house. "She would have ruined the surprise!"

"I figured," he mumbled, kissing your knuckles. "Better to keep it a secret between the boys."

You were quiet for a little while as Bradley drove. Eventually you turned toward him and whispered, "I do think we should get married pretty soon."

"Yes," he agreed. "We're both off on Saturday...."

"Please!" you laughed. "I didn't have a real wedding before. So I'd like to plan something this time. Nothing crazy, but a real wedding would be so nice." Your voice was soft and dreamy. 

"Anything you want, Kitten. Anything. I mean it. I'm already getting the things that are most important to me: you and Ev. So whatever and whenever works for me." 

When Bradley pulled into your driveway and thought about how he'd be living here soon enough, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed into his lap.

"Watch it, Kitten," he whispered as you rubbed yourself against him. "We've got company, Baby." 

"I know," you replied softly, kissing his lips. "I just love you so much, and today has been kind of wild, but I want you to know that I can't wait to marry you."

The way your hand slid up to rest over his heart while you kissed him had Bradley ignoring his own caution. He let his lips and mustache trail along your neck as he reached for the button of your shorts.

"Can we go watch fireworks?" Everett asked through a yawn from the backseat. Bradley closed his eyes and sighed, kissing you one more time.

"Yep," he grunted. "It's almost time." Then he carried Everett inside after you unlocked the door. He got both of you settled on the back deck under a blanket, and then he made some popcorn and carried it out just as the first fireworks lit up the sky. 

Bradley sat next to Everett who held the bowl of popcorn. "This was a really good day," Everett said, the colors reflecting in his eyes.

"I loved today," you added, turning to look at Bradley as you ate some popcorn.

"Yeah," Bradley said with a deep sigh. "I got to spend it with my family."

-------------------------

Everett was looking a little worse for the wear, snuggled up against Bradley as the fireworks ended. 

"Can we all talk for a minute?" Bradley asked when it was just the three of you sitting quietly under the moon glow. 

"Okay," you agreed as Everett nodded.

"I just wanted to say," Bradley started before pausing for a beat. "Kiddo, I'm going to move in with you and your mom. If that's okay with you."

"Yeah!" Everett cheered, perking up. 

Bradley kissed his forehead. "But I'm not going to move into the extra bedroom, okay? Your mom and I are going to get married, hopefully pretty soon. And I'll move my stuff into her big bedroom."

"Okay," Everertt agreed. "Maybe we can turn the other bedroom into a Phillies room or something."

"Hey, that sounds great," Bradley agreed, laughing as you rolled your eyes. 

You ran your fingers along your son's cheek so that he was looking at you. "Ev, Bradley is going to be part of our family. For real."

"I'm not going anywhere, okay?" Bradley asked, and Everett's gaze snapped back to him. "I'll be around all the time. You understand?"

Everett nodded enthusiastically. "Does that mean you'll be my dad soon?"

Bradley met your eyes, and your heart started pounding. His gaze was questioning, but you weren't sure exactly what you wanted to say here. "He'll be your stepdad, Ev."

Everett still looked a little concerned as he wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck. "Can I call you dad?" he asked Bradley, and you felt tears in your eyes. All you wanted was for your son to have everything he deserved. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Danny and child support and Everett's face in tears.

But Bradley held him tight and nodded against his neck. "If you want to. And if it's okay with your mom."

When Everett looked at you, a smile crept along your lips. "Yeah, it's okay with me."

Then you listened to the two of them in quiet conversation before Bradley took Everett inside and carried him up to bed. You followed them up the stairs but went into your bedroom and let them have a few minutes to themselves. You contemplated changing into something cute to wear to bed with your fiance, but you ended up sitting on the bed wiping away your tears instead. And then after a while, Bradley walked in, and you could tell he had been crying as well. 

He paused next to the bed and you asked, "Are you okay?"

A nod was all you got right away. Then he rasped, "He called me dad. While I got him ready for bed."

"He loves you."

Bradley looked up at the ceiling. "Listen, I had every intention of walking in here and absolutely ravaging my wife-to-be. I swear. But instead, I think I just want to hold you first."

How could anyone possibly disagree with that? You reached out for his hand and pulled him into bed with you and into your arms. "I love you, Coach."

"Fuck, Kitten," he groaned against your neck as you hugged him. "I didn't think I would end up crying so much the day I got engaged. Actually... I never really thought I'd ever get engaged. Especially not to a mom."

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off with his lips on yours. "But you're right, Kitten. I was tailor-made to be with you. And Everett."

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed all of the words from your lips. You were left softly sighing as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, the prickle of his mustache on your skin driving you crazy for him.

"I was going to put on something cute to celebrate with you tonight," you whispered. 

"No, no. I love that stuff, you know that. But you're perfect just like this." Bradley kissed you through your grass stained clothing before he started to remove it. "Perfect."

When he took his time like this, it was almost better than when he went wild. Bradley ran his nose along your lace covered breasts, his thumbs grazing your sides, skimming down your ribs. Wordlessly, he moved every bit of your clothing before he pulled his shirt over his head. His skin was hot beneath your hands, and the sound of his heavy breathing filled the space. When his lips met your bare breasts, you whimpered. His big palms were on your hips, holding you in place as you spread your legs wide for him.

His words were too soft, the sound of your whimpering nearly drowning him out as his lips and mustache met the sensitive skin below your belly button. 

"Bradley."

His hands left your body, and you heard him work his zipper down. But then his mouth was on your pussy, kissing and licking you as your fingers tangled in his hair. And he would be here every night with you. When he wasn't deployed, he'd be in bed with you, right here, every night. 

"Bradley," you whispered again, this time with a little sob. You were going to marry him, and he would always be there with you. 

He swiped his tongue slowly up to your clit before kissing you there. "Kitten?"

You pulled him up by his soft hair and wiped away your tears. "I love you." Then his lips were on yours, and you could feel his cock at your entrance. The way your body welcomed every part of him, like you'd been waiting for him, had you wrapping your leg around his waist. He groaned softly against your lips as he sank into you, filling you up. But he didn't move yet. Not for a few minutes. He just stretched you in the most wonderful way while you pulsed around him, and he told you everything he was going to do now that you were engaged.

"I'll move in next weekend, Kitten," he whispered against your neck. "And then I'll start doing your yardwork, because you kind of suck a pulling weeds, Baby."

"Hey," you whined, with a laugh that turned into a moan as he pushed himself deeper inside you. 

"I'll pay half the bills. And I'll make breakfast in the mornings. And you can pack my lunch. And I'll play baseball with Ev, because I love him. And then I'll fuck you all night, because I love you."

His words got ragged as he started to thrust. And as soon as he was moving, his rough hairs harsh against your wet clit, you could feel the pressure building inside you. After a few more strokes, you were whining his name, and he was smiling against your lips. Bradley fucked you slow and steady through your orgasm, drawing it out and making your sweat-slick body shiver beneath him. And he went nice and slow until he was grunting and spilling himself inside you. 

Your fingers dug into the back of his neck as he kissed you hard. "Please don't make me wait too long to marry you. To be Ev's stepdad for real."

"I won't." 

As he panted on top of you, a plan was already forming in your mind. You tried to hold back your grin as you thought about it. Bradley would love it, and so would Ev. If it was even viable. But you'd have Bradley all to yourselves soon enough, and he could help you plan it out. 

A little while later, as you were snuggled up with Bradley, nearly asleep, he whispered, "I told Everett I'd take him to the park tomorrow evening. Thanks for sharing your son with me."

You laughed softly, and then you froze up.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stroking up and down your spine with his rough hand.

You propped yourself up to look at him, unsure if you should even say anything. 

"Kitten. Did I say something wrong?"

"No," you whispered, shaking your head slightly. "It's just that... I never told you this, but I don't want to have anymore kids, Bradley." You bit down hard on your lip as he studied your face. 

He looked a little surprised but not disappointed. "Oh. I mean, I hadn't given it much thought, to be honest. I guess I thought the three of us would be perfect, you know? Happy."

You heaved a sigh of relief and wrapped your arms around him again. "Yeah. The three of us. Happy."

---------------------------

The following day, after work, you put your ring back on and drove to Molly and Bob's condo. Bradley was picking Everett up from summer camp, and you'd have a chance to talk to your sister alone for a few minutes if Bob wasn't back from base yet.

You knocked on their door loudly before using the key they gave you to let yourself inside. 

"Come in!" Molly called out, and you found her in the living room, under a blanket, eating chips and watching reality TV. "Hi!"

You laughed and plopped down next to her. She looked tired as you kissed her cheek. "They working you too hard?" you asked, running your hand across her forehead. "Molly, you look exhausted."

She yawned and snuggled into your touch. "I'm so fucking tired. These double shifts are killing me. I thought it would be an easier adjustment to all daylight shifts than this! But they keep asking me to pull extra hours, because we're short staffed."

"That's not good," you whispered with a frown as she yawned again. But she just brushed you off.

"I'll be fine after Bob dicks me down and I get a good night's sleep again tonight for work tomorrow."

"Oh, I didn't really need to know that, but thanks?"

She nodded at you with a serious look in her eyes. "I love him. He's the sweetest man in the world. And he has a big cock. I'll be just fine. Don't worry about me."

As you cleared your throat to try to change the subject, Molly reached for your hand and screamed, "What is that?!" She started pawing at your engagement ring, kicking her blanket to the floor and jumping up. "You're getting married!"

You laughed at your wild eyed sister standing in front of you in a sports bra, boxer shorts and mismatched socks. "I'm getting married!" you confirmed, and she screamed again. "He asked me yesterday."

"Oh my god! Bradley really went all in on the ring, huh?" she asked, pulling it off your finger to examine it. "I mean...damn! He probably thought you'd say no if the ring sucked. Look at the size of this thing!"

"I wouldn't have said no!" you told her, laughing as she pretended to be blinded by the sparkle. "Ev helped him pick it out."

Molly screamed again. "Ev helped?! Okay, Bradley can stay forever, I guess."

The two of you were on the floor laughing and sharing the bag of chips when Bob walked in wearing his khaki uniform.

"Mo, it's uniform time, Honey," he said with a grin, but then he saw you on the floor with some chips halfway to your mouth, and he blushed. "Oh... you're here too... that's great." 

"Hey, Bob," you said before shoving the chips in your mouth and standing. "I was actually just leaving, so feel free to have uniform time."

He still looked embarrassed as you patted his cheek. "Oh, um..."

"I just stopped by to tell you both that Bradley and I are getting married. Hopefully pretty soon." You held up your hand, and Bob pulled you in for a hug. 

"Ugh," Molly groaned from the floor. "He's going to be my brother-in-law."

"You just told me how happy you were for me!"

"I am," she confirmed. "I just kind of like to pick on him. It's fun. And easy."

You rolled your eyes and hugged Bob tight. "Stay tuned for a wedding date, okay? I just need to make a few phone calls." Then you turned to leave, but Molly followed you after she kissed Bob.

"You can stay for dinner, if you want."

You smiled and put your high heels back on. "Nah, I don't want to interrupt uniform time."

Molly grinned like the devil, but she said, "I ordered some cute shirts for both of us and Ev to wear to the rec league games. But the Bradshaw on the back of yours is going to have a whole new meaning now! Are you going to ditch Danny's last name?"

"God, yes," you groaned. "As long as it's okay with Bradley."

"And what about Ev?"

You puzzled her question in your mind for a moment. You'd been waiting for the child support from Danny to kick in. But you'd probably be waiting a lot longer. He wasn't going to hand it over to you willingly. But you just knew that Everett was going to want a new last name as well, and honestly it made you want to cry. 

"I'm not sure," you whispered, forcing a smile and kissing Molly one last time. "Go have fun with Bob. I'll see you soon." 

And when you got home, Bradley and Everett were there, eating a pizza they brought back after playing in the park. Bradley jumped up to get a slice ready for you, and you hugged him around his middle while Everett told you about his day.

-------------------------------

Ev called him dad! He's moving in! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 27

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I was re reading your pool fic bc it’s one of my favourite and I wanted to ask ab how Vil would go over giving you a make over when he finds out you’re a girl or how Vil, Rook and Epel would be involved?

Would Epel finally be happy to not be the only one being tortured by Vil with his 20084 step skin care routine?

Would Vil take you shopping and go full MUA?

Would Rook stalk you so Vil can find our about your current beauty regimen?

Also I love your writing so much

Aforementioned Makeover | Yandere Pomefiore

The thing about the pool party is that everyone knew you were a girl 

You had told them straight up

But they either written it off or the time you casually mentioned it or it just wasn’t a priority

Rook most definitely already knew 

More than willing to share one of his extensive photo albums on you when Vil finally decides you are indeed in need  of a makeover

Whether it’s through Rook or forcefully making Epel ask or just interrogating you himself

He’ll go full steam ahead once he has an idea on your situation

But it gets tricky when he realizes Rook’s has a loooonggg list of things he notices and actively updates about your health and routine

It kind of makes him jealous

So he steps up his game a little and demands your presence in Pomefiore immediately

He might wait for exam season where everyone’s on edge 

And far too anxious to debate whatever craziness he’s imposing on the Ramshackle Prefect

“This is just for the time being, no need to lose your head. Focus on your exams and I’ll focus on you. Got that?”

He’s reworking your entire life routine to fit around and with him in the center

Because Rook get’s to openly patrol and monitor you he’s not upset

He also expected it’d turn out this way but that’s a discussion for another time+

Epel though is at first willing to excuse himself

Leaving you to the proverbial wolves until he realizes what this means

“After the fitting, we’ll polish their elegance training, and then after that we’ll have to do a hearty meal otherwise they’d whine all day–” “I agree!”

“But they told me that tomorrow we’d go to the racing derby together…”

“Hm, well we’ll have to cancel that then. (Y/n)’s incredibly short energy and requirements for tomorrow can’t have them waking up too early to go to that. We only have time for what we’ve planned.”

“Yup sorry, monsieur crab-apple! Now please continue Roi du Poison!” 

“...”

If he doesn’t actively include himself or remind Vil of his obsession with training him

He’s going to be left out

Lose more time to get close to you

Less chances for him to win you over

Not to mention the bonding and learning he gets from just aiding his upperclassmen in their endeavors

“Now this Epel is the perfect time to ask questions. In this condition their mental state is still intact, so any questions you ask isn’t immediately going to be met with mindless and incoherent blubbering.”

“But why would I want to ask questions? What good is talking to this piece’a crap gonna do?”

“Tsk Tsk pauvre malheureux you have so much to learn! Consider this prey the beginning of a larger scheme…a member of a conspiracy against notre chéri!” 

“I see…”

Unbeknownst to him he’s prepared to use it all against them when the perfect time strikes

But it’s not wise to underestimate your teachers 

Where do you think that urge came from?

“We at Pomefiore value beauty above most, consider it a privilege we want to highlight yours.” 

“Though the urge to lock it away is palpable; for my Roi du Poison I’ll stiffle my urges just a tad longer!”

“Don’t expect to get too far from me I’m mo’ than set onya heart.”

“Epel!”

“I know I know, geez.”

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve. 

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?” 

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.” 

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands. 

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue. 

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her. 

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-” 

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles. 

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for. 

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?” 

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA. 

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while. 

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.” 

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her. 

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.” 

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face. 

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.” 

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too. 

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them. 

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.” 

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them. 

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.” 

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now. 

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time. 

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them. 

Jealousy. Longing. Needing. 

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person. 

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath. 

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes. 

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.” 

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.” 

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?” 

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him. 

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head. 

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat. 

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side. 

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.” 

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima. 

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’ 

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood. 

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty. 

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely. 

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor.  “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.” 

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.” 

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life. 

The Paris Opera Ballet

[syrupgirl]

warnings:

descriptions of blood(like fr), mentions of death, i call neteyam’s injury ‘a hole in the chest’, my very limited knowledge of medical procedures(both human and na’vi), me changing the severity of his injury probably, that’s it methinks?

a/n: this one just fell out of me. a fix it fic if you will.

Lie si oe Neteyamur -Neteyam

“You cannot rush this, daughter.” Your mother says as she strokes your head.

It has been days since the battle. Many lives were lost, even more injured. And as selfish as it is, you mind would not drift away from one person.

Neteyam.

-

You had been in charge on taking care of the injured that were brought back to the village. Being a Tsahik in training, you mother deemed it essential to have experience in real conditions to feel the pressure you would be carrying until you passed on the status to the best Tsahik.

After countless gruelling hours of tending to the wounded, you heard your name being called from the shore. After passing of your patient off to your partner, you down ran to the beach, only to be greeted by a sight you never thought you would have to see.

“Neteyam?!”

Sand kicked out from under your hurried feet as you approached Tsireya who had a bleeding Neteyam attached to her side.

“H-he..He was shot! It went straight through h-him.” The poor girl was hysterical. The blood of her friend covered her hands and even some of her stomach.

Neteyam himself looked terrible. His complexion was blanched and his eyes could barely stay open. Across his chest, he looked to be wrapped in seaweed, probably to stop the bleeding. You guessed that once you undid the bindings you would also find sea moss plugged in the wound as well. Curtesy of your sister, you guessed.

As much as you wanted to curl up and cry until you couldn’t anymore, Neteyam didn’t have that time. Right now, you weren’t Neteyam’s…friend..You were the one in charge of saving his life, in charge of his healing, and, if all went well, his recovery.

“Here, give him to me, I will take him to our marui.” You shouldered his body and he groaned. “Yes, yes, I know and I’m sorry.”

Neteyam didn’t seem to be capable of conversation but keeping him conscious was your top priority until you could get your remedies.

It was a struggle up the shore but you made it, with Tsireya stumbling behind. You lay him down as gently as you could.

“Neteyam? Neteyam, can you hear me? It’s yn.”

You spoke to him as you checked his body for any other injuries. Anything that would make it more difficult to deal with the hole in his chest. Nothing turned up so you continued to speak to him.

“Neteyam? I’m going to unwrap your chest now, it will hurt but I need to to stay with me, okay?”

He was awake but you had no idea if he was actually hearing anything you were saying. With a deep breath, you slowly started to unwrap his chest.

You weren’t ready for what greeted you.

The tight wrappings had slowed down the bleeding but there was still so much. It covered your palms and wove itself between your fingers. You heart was beating out of your chest and you got closer and closer to his naked chest.

Neteyam was moaning and muttering above you but you didn’t want to take your eyes off his injury.

“Tsireya? Is he still awake?” You asked your sisters, fingers still working on the makeshift bandages.

“Uh..uhm.” She knelt down closer to his face. “Yes, I think h-he is.”

“We need to keep him with us, as much as it will hurt him, we cannot risk him slipping away.”

Tsireya nodded and started to try make conversation with him. “Your brother still needs you, he is lost but he needs you to bring him back.”

You felt yourself tear up at her words. It was not just his brother who still needed him.

After discarding the seaweed in a pile, you came face to face with the bloody mess. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be bleeding as much as it was before and just like you thought, there was a large clump of sea moss packed around the wound. You picked it up as gently as possible and the boy above you jerked.

“It- it hurts!” He whined and you put a hand gently on his shoulder.

“I know and i’m sorry but it is what needs to be done.”

He didn’t respond after that but kept whining in pain and wriggling slightly.

“Tsireya-” your sister looked up and you handed her a tightly woven basket, “-fill this with water.”

She nodded and takes it from your hands hurriedly. You use the sea moss to clean up the sight as much as you can before putting is next to the seaweed.

In record time, Tsireya ran back to your side, handing you the basket now filled to the rim.

“Thank you, sister.” You said. You brings your hands up to her face and she closed her eyes. “Be calm, he will live, i’m sure of it.” She meets your gaze again and sniffs. You try to give her a reassuring smile before turning back to Neteyam.

With the basket in hand, you shuffle up next to his shoulder. As slowly as you can, you tip the container forward and watch the water wash into the hole in his chest. The blood melts off of him as the water takes its place.

Neteyam sounded like he was downright sobbing and you hear Tsireya whisper to him, “Be still, Neteyam. You are in good hands.”

You hoped she was right.

-

It had taken many hours of tears and screams but you had managed to bring Neteyam back to where he was stable. He now rests in his family’s marui like he has been for days, surrounded by the love of his family.

And as much as you want to see him, you know better than anyone how important family is in times like these. They need space.

“You did a great thing, without you, my love, the loses would have been so much greater.” Your mother is known for her stone cold resolve and tough exterior but you wouldn’t have it any other way. She loves you and your siblings in her own way. “I feel so proud knowing I chose you to take my place as Tsahik of this village once I return to our great mother.”

“Thank you, mother. It is a great honour.” She smiles down and you and holds you closer.

-

That night you cannot sleep, opting you go for a swim, a now common occurrence since the battle. You lie of your back, floating on the surface and looking up to the sky. You remember your father telling you that Jake Sully was from one of the distance stars. How fascinating.

Small waves lap underneath you. A small light shoots across the sky. Everything is still.

Well it is until someone dives in next to you.

You’re so surprised, you slowly a mouthful of water.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” It’s Lo’ak’s voice you hear while dying cough out all of the water from your mouth.

“It is okay,” You splutter, turning to face him. “Why do you come to me, Lo’ak?”

He looks down into the water and it is silent for a beat. “To thank you. I should have done it sooner and I apologise, but I just couldn’t..couldn’t-”

“Leave him?” You interrupt him and he nods. “I understand. After something so major, your family needs to heal. That includes you.” The sound of lapping water fills the silence between you.

“That’s not the only reason i’m here.” He continues. You look up to him again, slightly confused. “Neteyam, he has been asking for you.” Your eyes widen a little. “While our parents aren’t around, he asks us where you are and how he still has to thank you.”

It’s a bit sill, but you can feel small tears well up in your eyes; he’s been asking for you?

“Since his..injury, he has been moved into a separate marui to heal and he asked if I would bring you there.”

Now you feel like laughing; this whole time while you have been aching to see him, he has been feeling the same.

“I would like that, Lo’ak.” You sniffed and Lo’ak grins.

“I had a feeling you would.”

-

Before you reach Neteyam’s marui, Lo’ak decides to go back to his family’s marui. You try to insist that he joins you but he flat out denies and just grins while he walks away.

When you arrive to the doorway and look inside, you see Neteyam sitting up against the side of the dwelling.

“Neteyam?” His head immediately spins your way and there is a big smile on his face. It is contagious.

“yn, it’s so good to see you!” He whispers as you kneel next to him.

“How are you feeling? Should you be sitting u-”

“I knew that would be the first thing you ask me.” His smile gets even bigger and again, you match it.

“I’m sorry, force of habit.” You both chuckle. “Was there any reason you wanted to see me?”

“I want to thank you, for saving me.” You are about to tell him that you were just doing your job but he keeps going, “I was..I was so scared. I felt like a little kid again. But when Tsireya brought me here, to you…I knew that I would be okay.”

“Oh Neteyam…” Your eyes well up with tears and Neteyam out his hands on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you cry.” His thumbs caught the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

You suddenly wrap your arms around his neck. “I have been so worried for you Neteyam…” Your words are muffled against his skin and he can feel the vibrations echoing up his neck. Neteyam hesitates, before wrapping you up into his embrace. Silence blanketed the two of you, interrupted only by the sound of your occasional sniffles and the waves breaking against the beach.

Neteyam is the one to finally shatter it.

“While I was out there, I fought as hard as I could…To defeat our enemies, yes, but also…I knew that, whatever happened, I had to get back here,” He brings a hand up to your face that is still planted in his shoulder and lifts it gently. “I was so scared…”

Your eyes flutter close and another tear slips down your cheek, down past your quivering lips.

“But when Tsireya brought me here, to you.” A smile weaved itself into his voice and you looked up to him. “I knew that I was going to be okay.”

Neteyam looks like he is crying now and you can’t bear it.

“Oh Neteyam..I’m so happy that you’re okay.” You lean forward and rest your forehead again his.

“The great mother is not ready to meet me yet.” He chuckles and you let out a watery laughter with him.

In this moment, all is well, all is calm. He is here. With you.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your dear Neteyam.

[toomuchracket]

fourth of july (politician!matty x reader smut)

another summer75 fic. warnings for shibari (light) and breeding kink (HEAVY). bon appetit <3

“you're sure you don't need anything else, ma'am?”

“thanks, claudia, but we're all good,” you smile at your assistant, her eyes flitting between the windows (and the party on the lawn outside) and you. “it's been a busy morning - i think you should go and relax, do some celebrating of your own, yeah?”

her eyes light up. “really?”

you laugh. “of course. just, piece of advice? don't drink anything anyone tries to serve you from a fishbowl tonight,” you grimace, shaking your head. “too many 5th of julys have been ruined for me that way. and for the president, actually, he was so much worse than i was at parties. stupid boy.”

claudia giggles. “noted, ma'am. i'll be sure to have a glass of water after every drink, too.”

“smart girl. well, i'll leave you to it,” you stretch, moving to close the door to the presidential living quarters. “have a good weekend!”

“and you, ma'am!”

closing the door behind you, you wander through towards your bedroom. aside from the sound of your husband humming to himself in there, the place is quiet, only the two of you around.

just how you like it.

you smile as you enter your bedroom, ogling matty as he pulls his shirt over his head. his hands move to his belt, but he stops his undressing in favour of walking towards you with love in his eyes and a grin on his lips; you pretend to sulk, but open your arms anyway. “damn, i was enjoying the show.”

“of course you were,” matty kisses your forehead, pulling back to arm's length to look at you. “i don't look half as good as you do, though. i love that dress, baby.”

“i thought it was pretty,” you clasp your hands behind matty's neck, and his find home on your hips. “it's really uncomfortable, though.”

it's a blatant lie, and you're sure you aren't being very subtle, but matty has the good grace to play along anyway. “is that right, my love?” he coos, hands moving across your back to undo the halter neck “well, we'd better take it off, then.”

“fabulous idea, mr. president,” you snuggle into him, sighing when the fabric of your dress falls to the ground and your bare chests press together. matty's arms wrap tightly around you, and the feeling of home washes over you. the two of you hug in comfortable silence for a second, your fingers gently twisting into your husband's curls, before you speak softly. “m'really proud of you, you know. it was a good morning. and i know you were reluctant to host anything today, but… i'm glad you did. it was fun.”

matty huffs out a laugh into your hair. “was only reluctant because it cut short our usual long weekend plans. and you know how much i love those.”

his hands travel towards your ass, sliding under the waistband of your thong to squeeze it; you giggle softly in response, pressing a long kiss to your husband's neck and enjoying the moan he lets out. “sometimes i wonder if you'll ever get bored of driving to the cabin whenever we get a few days off.”

“if we ever get rid of the shibari rigging hooks, i might.”

“as if we'd do that. be serious, please, matthew.”

matty laughs, scooping you up and dropping you onto the bed. “i love you, my perfect little rope bunny. and wife, obvs.”

“love you too. i also love that you've got your priorities straight,” you bite your lip as you watch matty undo his trousers, leaning up to kiss him messily as he crawls up to hover over you. it's a good kiss, sloppy and passionate, one that goes straight to your underwear and prevents your brain from thinking about anything other than matty inside you. “fuck, baby. tie me up now, please? we still have,” you glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “two hours before we need to start driving. pleeeeeeease?”

matty simply raises a brow.

you pout, batting your lashes. “come on, baby, please? just a little design? a little preview for the rest of the weekend?” you wrap your legs around his waist, smiling prettily the way you've done to get whatever you want from matty since you were twenty-two. “because you love me?”

at that, your husband sighs, nodding and trying to keep the smile from his face. sap. “legs only, alright? just because i love you.”

“mhmm,” you take his face in your hands and pull him in for a kiss, smiling at the way he melts against you. “thank you, my love.”

“sweet girl,” matty strokes your cheek, before moving off you and reaching to pull a box from under the bed; inside, you see pink rope neatly arranged in loops of figure eights. your heart leaps and core gushes at the sight, but matty makes a face at it. “not very patriotic colour-wise, is it?”

“pretty sure the amount of time i'm gonna spend on my knees worshipping you this weekend will make up for that, mr. president.”

“fuck. underwear off, now,” your husband quickly takes two separate loops of rope from the box, twisting them into position while you shimmy your thong and lie down, practically vibrating with happy anticipation. “and speaking of knees - bend them for me, darling, that's it. tell me if it's too uncomfortable, yeah?”

“i will.”

“good girl.”

with that, he begins to loop the rope around your left thigh and shin, securing them together with an intricate pattern you hope to god will leave a mark on your skin. you can't remember whether it was you or matty who first suggested trying shibari a decade or so ago, but you both took to it with enthusiasm - since then, every extended private moment you've had together has involved some sort of artistic bondage, exploring new designs and positions and making each other feel good. the rope took a bit of getting used to, initially, but now you love the feeling of it against your bare skin; it's a reminder that, for at least the next few hours in your busy lives, it's just you and matty, alone together, getting to love and appreciate and care for each other at the most primal, most intimate level.

once he's done, matty taps your bound knee. he moves back, smiling at his handiwork. “that feel alright, gorgeous?”

“yeah. thank you, angel.”

he blushes, and your heart flutters. “you're welcome, my darling. gonna do the other one now, yeah?”

“go ahead.”

the two of you settle back into comfortable silence, matty continuing his work while you smile at the way his tongue pokes out of his lips in concentration, one of the things that first endeared him to you when you met at law school. suddenly, those lips part as he speaks. “isn't it funny how many people just, like, handed their babies to us at the garden party this morning?”

your brow furrows slightly. interesting topic of conversation. “happens to me quite a lot, to be honest.”

“yeah, i've noticed. s'happened eighteen times to you in the past week alone.”

your brow furrows further. “you've been counting?”

matty's cheeks go pink again. “well… not deliberately, darling, i just,” he sighs, finishing off the shibari and sitting back on his heels to look at you sheepishly. “i can't help but notice when you're interacting with babies at the minute. like, i really can't.”

oh. how interesting. and, if you're honest, not entirely unwelcome. you smile. “you think it's time?”

his eyes widen. “for… for us to-?” he clears his throat. “for us to… have a baby of our own?”

“yeah, sweetheart,” you reach up to caress his face, smiling softly at the way matty leans into your hand. “do you think now’s the time?”

“well… yeah.”

you smirk, removing your hand from your husband's face so you can use it to pull your bent legs open as wide as possible and expose your glistening cunt. “let's make a baby, then.”

matty blinks. suddenly, your instructions seem to sink in, and he follows, not even bothering to take his boxers off fully before sliding through your wetness and pushing inside you; his lips meet yours as he bottoms out, the two of you sighing into each other's mouths.

home at last.

for a moment, there's nothing but the two of you kissing like teenagers, passionate and messy and desperate, matty throbbing inside you in the most delicious way, and then he moves, pulls his hips back and snaps them forward again, over and over and over, drawing soft moans from your lips every time he slides in. a huge part of the reason matty was elected, everyone says, is because he does everything with focus and conviction - the way he fucks is no different.

he pulls back from your lips, resting your foreheads together in the most tender way and sliding his hands over yours against the pillow; when you intertwine your fingers, he smiles. “sweet girl, taking me so fucking well.”

“your sweet girl.”

“that's right. my girl, all mine,” matty beams. something about the ownership reminder spurs him on, makes him thrust faster and harder and deeper into you. you whimper his name, and he kisses your nose. “what is it, darling? need me to fill you up, is that it? put my baby in you and let everyone know you're mine?”

the words go straight to your cunt, brain too hazy with pleasure to properly take them in. “please.”

“cum for me first, sweetheart, and i will,” he coos, stroking your face and dropping a sweet kiss onto your nose. “touch that pretty clit for me, yeah? and then i'll fill up that needy little pussy of yours. promise.”

“okay,” you exhale, hand sliding down your sweat-shiny chest and between your legs, circling your aching clit the way you know matty would. ecstasy shoots through your body the instant you touch the bundle of nerves, causing you to whine and clench around your husband's dick - which in turn makes him whine - but, somehow, it isn't enough. “matty,” you croak out, blinking up at him. “need you to talk to me. please.”

“oh, my darling,” matty grins, not unkindly. “need me to tell you how good you feel, how much i love how fucking tight your cunt is? even after all this time, after all the pounding i've given you, she's still clenching around me like a fucking vice. could stay inside you forever, you know. wanna do that. i think you want me to, as well, don't you, gorgeous? feels like it, anyway.”

the pleasure's practically blinding you at this point, tightening your muscles and clouding your mind - all you can do is frantically rub your clit, and whimper. “yeah, yeah, want you in me all the time.”

“needy girl,” matty's lips crash onto yours, tongue licking into your mouth before he murmurs against you. “can't fucking wait to fill you up properly, sweetheart. please tell me you're close.”

“i am, oh shit, i am!” you aren't lying, either - your legs are quivering as much as they can within the rope, and the pressure building in your lower stomach feels like it's about to reach breaking point. you're vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face and pooling on your chest, but all you can focus on right now is matty. “gonna cum, please, please let me cum.”

your husband leans forward, cock driving impossibly deep and lips ghosting over your ear. “do it, my darling. cum for me, let me give you a baby. our baby.”

and that's all it takes.

you cling to matty like a liferaft as your orgasm hits, although the more accurate nautical metaphor would be to liken him to an anchor; without him above you, hands digging into the flesh of your legs almost as much as the rope, you're certain you'd float away, buoyant from sheer fucking ecstasy. he cums with a guttural moan of your name as you clench around him, kissing you deeply as his thrusts get more and more shallow, and you don't think you've ever been more full, metaphorically (of love) and literally (of cum, crass as it sounds). once he's done, your husband nuzzles into the crook of your neck, both of you sweaty and breathing heavily.

for a few blissful minutes, you stay like that, weaving a hand into matty's messy curls and scratching his scalp while you exchange murmured “i love you”s. your eyes flick sideways to the alarm clock, and you tap his shoulder in a feeble attempt to get him to move. “sweetheart, we need to get cleaned up before we leave.”

“just give it another minute or two, darling,” matty mumbles into your skin; he pulls himself up just enough to kiss you, looking adoringly into your eyes. “have to make sure the baby sticks, after all.”

you giggle, stroking his flushed face with your thumb. “we'll miss seeing the fireworks from the cabin if we don't get a move on, though.”

“trust me, my love, you'll get your fireworks this weekend no matter when we leave.”

“whatever you say, mr. president.”

[peachsukii]

𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

( chapter 4 - the grey )

『 ♡ pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo; pro-heroes au | friends to lovers 』

status: on-going rating: mature (16+) #✩.hollowheart

꒰ summary ꒱ A glimpse of hope appears out of nowhere, giving Bakugo and Midoriya the lead they needed to pursue your location. It proves to be much more difficult than they imagine, so they call upon some friends for a search party.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance

꒰ Ao3 version | word count; ~20.6k as of ch.4 ꒱ Master List 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩

"So...let me get this straight," Uraraka ponders, finger on her chin while staring up into her metaphorical thinking space. "She's underground?"

"Yeah, I know, it sounds fuckin' insane." Bakugo shakes his head as he crosses his arms defensively. "But we gotta try. She needs m- our help."

Midoriya nods in agreement and turns to the group. "Sorry to ask on such short notice, but thank you all for -"

"Like you have to ask!" Jiro interrupts, hands on her hips. "She's important to us, too ya know." 

Bakugo and Midoriya had called all of their friends the following morning of your text, gathering an emergency rescue group. Uraraka, Kirishima, Jiro, Mina and Todoroki dropped everything they were doing and met up at Bakugo's apartment the following night. They needed a plan, one that the agency won't catch wind of before they can execute it. It wasn't going to be easy, that much the boys knew, but the consequences did not outweigh the reward - getting you home, safe and sound, was their number one priority. 

"The agency doesn't give two shits about this, so we're takin' it into our own hands. I'm done sittin' around waitin' for a miracle." Bakugo's words are flat as he motions for the group to follow him over to the kitchen table to analyze the diagram that him and Midoriya drafted. He points to the left side to start explaining their plan.

"Ears, we'll need ya to figure out where the compound is located, see if you can hear vibrations or some shit. It's gotta be somewhere in this field. Pinky'll burn a hole to make an entry point for us. They'll keep guard while the rest of us go inside. I'm guessin' it'll have multiple floors, so we'll split into teams to cover it all. I'll take the first floor, Deku and Icyhot take the second while Cheeks and Red take the third. Get in, search for her and other hostages, get 'em out and fuck up anyone in our way." He stands back, shifting his gaze to everyone's faces. "Got it?"

"You sure you wanna go alone, Kat?" Kirishima asks, quirking his head to the side. "Not sayin' you can't handle it, but I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Bakugo grunts, casting his eyes to the floor. "It'll be fine. We'll have our comms and stay in contact."

Midoriya knew the reason why he wanted to go alone and didn't dare vocalize it to the group. He trusted Bakugo knew what he was doing, even if it meant going head first into danger by himself. They're top heroes - intuition is one of their strongest feats and he trusts his childhood friend with his life.

"Do we know anything about the drug they're making?" Todoroki asks, directing his question at Midoriya. 

He frowns in response. "Not much, unfortunately. I tried to analyze it in the agency lab and couldn't crack anything about it, didn't have enough of a sample to properly break it down. The only thing we know is that one dosage lasts about an hour."

"Deku, come with me for a sec," Bakugo demands, stomping past Midoriya and into his bedroom away from the rest of the group. Midoriya obeys and follows him down the hall, stopping in the doorframe.

"What is it, Kacchan?" he asks, unsure of what he needed him for. Bakugo droops his shoulders in defeat, palming his face in embarrassment. 

"Izuku, I need a favor." His voice is hushed.

Midoriya walks up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to gather his attention. 

"Anything, what is it?"

"Don't make me say it," Bakugo grumbles, shaking his head in disbelief that he was asking him for support a second time.

Midoriya knew exactly what that meant. He silently wraps his arms around Bakugo, enclosing him in a soft hug.

"We'll find her, Kacchan, I promise."

Bakugo loosely returns the embrace with one arm. 

"What if I'm not strong enough to save her again?"

Midoriya pulls back to look him in the eyes. "That's not going to happen, we have your back - all of us."

Bakugo knows his friends would support him through thick and thin, but that's not what he's questioning. The possibility of letting you slip away a second time is slowly eating away at him, afraid he'll have to experience you disappearing all over again. A quiet 'yeah' is all he can muster before composing himself.

Bakugo pats Midoriya on the head as he leaves the room.

"Let's get goin'." 

~ TIME: 8:39PM

An hour goes by as the group makes their way to Sector 42, enough time for the sunset to fade into a starry sky and help hide their presence in the night. The seven of them re-group in the same area that you'd previously disappeared in - the barren field. 

"Where did you say the portal opened?" Jiro questions.

Bakugo walks over to a set of rocks, pointing at the area. "Right there. Deku marked it a few days after it happened."

Jiro nods and kneels to the ground. She plants both her headphone jacks to the dirt and focuses for a few moments, listening for any frequencies below them. She hears it straight away, the sounds of metal clanging faintly in her ears. 

"Found it!" she exclaims, unplugging herself from the soil. "About 20 feet deep, and it's a huge facility. I can't quite tell how many floors, but it's big." 

"Knew I could count on ya. Pinky, you're up. Make a big enough hole for us to fit through," Bakugo orders, standing back with the others. 

"Roger that!" Mina gathers a coating of acid around her hands, forming makeshift armored gloves. She began to dig while oozing acid into the ground, carving out a tunnel for the group. The others stood nearby, keeping lookout for any potential sneak attacks. Bakugo can’t help but repeatedly thump his foot like an angry rabbit, his patience wearing thin as he’s forced to wait, not able to direct his anger at anything in the moment. He wanted nothing more than to blow the whole place to smithereens, scoop you up, and take you home. Uraraka notices his fidgeting and pulls him to the side.

"You wanna talk?"

"About what?" Bakugo grumbles, scrunching his brows at her in annoyance. Obviously, he didn't wanna talk about anything at all, let alone his feelings.

"Fair enough. How about I make you a promise?" she says, extending her pinky to him. "When we find her in there, you'll be the first one we call."

Bakugo stares at her, blinking a few times before sighing contently. He wraps his pinky around hers. 

"Thanks, Cheeks. I...really miss her." He lets his hand fall away from hers as she gives his shoulder a light squeeze. 

"Me too. You better make a move once she's back!" Uraraka bats at his arm playfully before skipping back to the others. Bakugo's got his arms crossed and nose to the sky, failing awfully at hiding his flustered expression. Meanwhile, Mina crawls out of the hole she's dug, covered head to toe in dirt. 

"Hah...okay," she pants, out of breath and wiping the sweat off her brows with the back of her hand. "It's wide enough for two people. It takes you to a hallway...that's all I could see. Bit of a drop, so just be careful."And with that, the plan was in motion. The five infiltrators shimmy down the hole one at a time, dropping into the hallway as quietly as possible. Bakugo and Midoriya exchange quiet glances, noting how off-putting the silence is to their entrance. 

"Eyes up, keep a low profile, and call immediately if something happens," Bakugo whispers. "And try not 'ta get hurt."

The four of them nod in agreement at him, partnering up according to plan and going their separate ways.

~ TIME: 9:18PM

Things are quiet in the compound tonight - eerily quiet. It's been days since your distress text was sent to Bakugo, leaving you yearning for escape to the outside world. Did he have a plan? Are him and Midoriya on their way? The lady who helped you steal your phone hasn't returned since that night, not since she took your phone back to the contamination room. Something felt wrong about this setup, that same gut feeling invading your body like the night of your abduction. You can't help but feel guilty about pulling the boys into potential danger, but what choice did you have? There was no possibility of you being able to escape yourself, much to your dismay. It was physically impossible without your quirk. Being helpless has been humbling, but a fucking aggravating experience.

You roll over on the cot, tracing imaginary drawings on the metallic wall as a distraction. The annoying 'beep!' of a keycard sounds from the cell door, but no footsteps follow. You're expecting a barrage of harsh commands, but they never come. Even though that's peculiar, you don't turn over to investigate - you couldn't give two shits about anything in the place any longer.

~ TIME: 9:43PM

Once they've successfully navigated their way through the compound, Uraraka rounds the corner of the steel corridor on the third floor with Kirishima at her side. She stalks slowly down the hall, taking time to examine all their surroundings. 

“Hey, up there! Looks like another cell,” Kirishima mutters, pointing over her shoulder. She silently nods in response.

The two of them approach the glass wall of the cell and carefully peer inside. Uraraka audibly gasps and she scrambles to the door, anxiously fidgeting with the electronic lock. She kicks the door as a last resort and is shocked when the cell door pops open, loosely swinging inward on its hinges. She pushes her way inside, a soft smile crosses her lips when she spots your form on the small cot. You don’t move out of habit, assuming it’s a pissed off guard coming to grab you for another round of testing.

“Found ya,” Uraraka sighs, desperately trying to hide the tears pooling in her doe eyes.

Is that…?

You flip over at the sound of her voice, bewildered at her physically standing before you. 

She’s not an illusion...right?

“Ochaco?” You compose yourself as you sit upright. “Is that…really you?”

Uraraka doesn’t hesitate any longer as she’s rushing toward you, wrapping herself around your frail form. One of her hands makes its way to hold the back of your head, trembling fingers clutching a handful of your messy locks. Her warmth engulfs you and coaxes the emotions to the surface that you previously submerged, soft hiccups bubbling in your throat. You return the hug, squeezing her tightly and shrinking in her arms. 

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m really here,” she assures, quietly stroking your hair. Kirishima comes into focus over Uraraka's shoulder.

"Hope we didn't scare ya!" he says while wiping a tear from his cheek. He strolls over to the cot and takes a seat next to you, gently patting your back. "Good to see ya!"

Uraraka pulls back and moves her hands to your shoulders. Her eyes are glassy as her lips curl into another smile, her signature dimples adorning her cheeks. You haven’t seen the sun in a months time, but seeing her euphoric gleam more than made up for it in the moment. 

“Before we talk about anything, I promised someone a small favor,” she says, nodding her head. She clicks the earpiece that adorned her helmet with one hand while thumbing away a stray tear off your chin with the other.

Promise?

“Hey, Dynamight,” she says over the intercom. The mere mention of his hero name from Uraraka is enough to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter ferociously. You can barely make out his voice through the device, but hear Bakugo’s signature twang when he replies. It makes your cheeks flush strawberry. 

She grins at you as she replies to Bakugo, "I've got a message for ya."

Your heart stops as Uraraka releases her hold on you and reaches for her helmet. Her hair ruffles from underneath when she tugs it away and shifts to place it over your head. She runs her fingers over your hand delicately, urging you to talk to him. 

She mouths ‘go ahead’ while holding the intercom button for you. Kirishima pats you twice on the shoulder for encouragement. 

How does she know?

You swallow, hard. Every nerve in your body is firing on all cylinders. There’s an endless amount of things you want to say to him, but that moment isn’t here yet. You choose to settle on a greeting, praying you don’t start bawling your eyes out. 

“Hey Katsuki,” your voice quivers as his name leaves your lips. 

You hear Bakugo suck air through his teeth over the radio communication, knowing he’s probably cycling through a million emotions over the sound of your voice, too. 

He clears his throat briefly before responding. “Hey…y’doin’ okay, Lite-Brite?” 

You can tell by the way his voice trembles that he’s doing his damndest to keep his shit together. Uraraka continues to hold the button on the helmet, motioning for you to continue talking. 

“Never better,” you joke, huffing out a laugh. “Food sucks here, though. I had to trick myself into thinking it was your cooking to even stomach it.” 

He exhales a quiet laugh. “I’ll make ya whatever you want when we get home. Now get your ass movin’ so we can get the hell outta here.” 

The signal turns off with a click. Uraraka takes the helmet from your head carefully and places it back on her own. 

“You’re gonna have to tell me everything about you two when we get home!” she exclaims, pinching your pink cheeks lovingly. “I’ve missed you - we all have.”

“It’ll be a relief to have you home,” Kirishima chimes in. “C’mon, lets get a move on.” 

He stands from the cot and extends his hand for you to take. Him and Uraraka help you to your feet as you brush yourself off and fluff your hair over your shoulders.

“Are you hurt at all?” Kirishima asks, removing his arm from your back. He takes a look at your arms - they're covered in bruises of varying sizes and colors.

“Not on the surface, no. It’s a long story,” you explain. “The condensed version is they’re formulating a quirk suppressing drug. The experiments they’re running down here are fucking horrific.”

His face morphs into shock and slowly fades into sympathy. Flashbacks of the Overhaul situation from high school come flooding back to him, wincing at the thought of another anti-quirk uprising.

“But you’re okay?” Uraraka asks a second time as she takes your hand in hers, one pinky lifted to prevent her quirk from activating.

You decide to spare her the mental agony you've been through, saving it for later. “...yeah, I think so. Just exhausted. My quirk isn't fully restored, either.”

Kirishima’s earpiece beeps twice when a muffled voice comes through. He turns his head while clicking the button to respond.

“Yeah, we’ve got her. How’s it goin’ up there?” he asks. The voice that responds faintly resembles Midoriya's. He responds once more before clicking off the communicator. "Alright, we'll head up now. Hang tight!"

“There’s one stop I’d like to make before heading upstairs,” you say, knowing you do not want to leave the prison in your current hand-me-down clothes. “It’s around the corner.”

~ TIME: 9:54PM

Once you've successfully retrieved and changed into your hero suit, along with collecting your cellphone, the three of you proceeded to the second floor to meet up with Midoriya and Todoroki. You can't help but notice how the material hangs from your frame and no longer hugs you comfortably. It's to be expected, all things considered. Even though they fed you, the stress was more than enough to cause you to lose weight and muscle strength over the course of the month. If anything, it pissed you off to know you'd have to work hard to build back your prior stamina. 

They didn't bother to wash the damn suit, either. It thankfully didn't smell, per se, but was covered in aged splatters of dirt and grime. Your phone screen was also cracked, hinting that the lady who helped you dropped it "for effect," or some other stupid excuse to inconvenience you.

Your ears perk up at the sound of voices around the corner as Uraraka, Kirishima and yourself are approaching the second floor corridor. 

"There's only 10 hostages here, that's strange," Midoriya explains aloud, presumably to Todoroki. "I thought the reports noted more than 10. Maybe I'm misremembering..." his voice tapers off as he begins mumbling to himself. Oh how you've missed the sound of his rambling, something so minuscule but endearing about him. 

The three of you come into view, catching both of the boys' attention. Midoriya's eyes whip up toward you, emeralds glistening when they widen under the pale hallway lights. He’s charges down the hall to you, tripping over his own steps from the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

"Izuku!" you cry out when his body engulfs yours, gripping onto the back of his costume and squeezing the material as you buried your face into his shoulder. You can't help the tears reforming in your eyes as he spins you around, overwhelmed with joy to see you safe and sound. Before you can stop the tears, you're sobbing into the crook of his neck - a combination of relief and dread. 

"Hey...it's alright, Y/N. You're safe," he soothes. "It's okay."

Midoriya places your feet back on the floor, pulling back and cradling your face tenderly. Not surprising, he's got tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, too. He wipes some of the tears from your eyes with his gloved hand.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" he asks, dropping your face from his hands while assessing your body for any visible harm. 

"N-no. Couple bruises, but that's about it," you stutter, a sudden tremble taking over your body. "Quirk's not..." you trail off while your vision dilates out of focus for a second. Midoriya doesn't skip a beat and catches you by the shoulders.

"Save your energy, Y/N. I'll carry you upstairs, okay?" his smile is genuine, but you can tell it's laced with anxiety. "We'll get you back to the entrance with Ashido and Jiro, they're keeping watch outside. We'll get the hostages out of here, too."

You nod, the vitality within you draining at a brutal pace. Could it be withdraw symptoms of the quirk suppressant? Is it possible to get addicted to such a drug? You're not sure what in the hell they mixed with the drug itself, it seemed to be different concoctions with each test. You're praying to any deity that would listen to be free of this hell.

Midoriya gives you a quick peck to your forehead before turning around, arms out and ready to lift you onto his back. Uraraka places a hand on your back to help you into his hold, securing your arms around his neck and legs tucked at his sides. 

"Uraraka, Kirishima, come help me gather the hostages," Todoroki notions, waving a hand to the cells at the end of the corridor. 

"Go ahead, I'll regroup with Kacchan upstairs and get her to safety," Midoriya vows with determination. The others hum in acknowledgement as the party separates.

~ TIME: 10:02PM Bakugo's stalking the area of the first floor, seeing a bunch of empty laboratories and rooms with no one in them. No one has reported any sightings of scientists, workers, or anything since they broke into the compound.

What the hell? Ears said this place was rattling with vibrations. Somethin's not right.

He's habitually calm during patrol missions, but now? His nerves are on fire, shoulders tensed from the stress in his heart. Bakugo couldn't shake his intuition, guts churning with unease at the silence of the facility. A faint scraping sound catches his attention, spinning on his heel with an arm raised. Taking careful steps, he makes his way back toward the entrance and into, what he presumed, the large concourse.

"It's about time one of you shows up," a woman's voice calls out, reverberating off the walls. Bakugo jumps back a few feet, gauntlets raised and hands prepared to fire explosions at any second.

"Who the fuck are you?" he seethes, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent his anger from overflowing. 

He hates that his gut feeling was right. ~ TIME: 10:12PM Midoriya is taking his time with you on his back, vigilantly navigating the two of you to the first floor. He's attempting to keep you as steady as possible, even though you've told him multiple times you're unharmed. Your head is tucked against the back of his shoulder.

"You holding up okay?" he asks, tilting his head back toward you.

"Yeah, thank you. I feel like if I let you go, I'll float away," you mutter, bitting your lip to prevent more tears from spilling out of your eyes. You're so fed up with crying, not wanting to be perceived as weak - a damsel in distress. Midoriya would never think you're anything less than strong, and you knew that in your heart, but still can't help feeling powerless in the moment.

He gives a reassuring squeeze to the back of your thighs. "Don't worry, no one will take you away from us ever again."

BOOM!

Midoriya halts in surprise, looking upward as the floor shook. The sound shakes you out of your self-deprecating chain of thought.

"Kacchan?! What's going on?" he asks frantically into his earpiece. There's static on the other line - no response. A few more explosions ring out above you two, increasing in succession.

"Dammit! Hang on tight," Midoriya warns, rocketing down the hallway while green energy begins crackling around his legs.  ~ TIME: 10:14PM "Talk about jumping the gun," the woman taunts Bakugo, sneering in his direction from across the lobby. "Afraid of the presence of a strong woman?"

Bakugo stood his ground, eyes fixated on the woman in the lab coat before him. Was he scared of her? Fuck no, not in the slightest. The thing that frightened him was she was alone - no one else showing their face in the facility thus far. Where was the man that took you away into the portal? Or any of the "henchmen" from that night?

"What an honor to have a top ten hero visit our lovely establishment, especially number four himself."

"Don't flatter yourself, especially 'cause you're alone," Bakugo yells back at her. He's trying to weed out the possibility of a sneak attack and rile up the woman to reveal her hidden defense. He knows she's got backup here, but where the fuck are they be hiding?

"Am I, though? I thought heroes were trained to have keener senses." 

Shadows appear on each side of her as her words hang in the room, revealing two more white cloaked men armed with dart guns. They simultaneously aim at Bakugo, the canisters reflecting the dark liquid in the chambers under the dim lighting.

Shit...! ~ TIME: 10:15PM Midoriya is approaching the open lobby with Bakugo in his sights in the main concourse. You can see over his shoulder that he's standing defensively, presuming that the enemy finally played their ace. 

"Izuku, I need you to launch me in front of Katsuki," you instruct, pointing a finger to his location.

"What?! No! I need to get you out of here," he retorts, shaking his head.

"Izuku. Please." 

Midoriya huffs, knowing you will not take no for an answer. Your heart is in the right place - he's right. You're in a weakened state, you should be rushing to the exit.

But that's not what heroes do. ~ TIME: 10:16PM "It was nice of that naïve little bitch to drag more heroes into our testing ring! Want a sample, darling?" She boasts, one hand on her hip as she points toward Bakugo with the other. "I think he'd benefit from it."

Bakugo hears a dart gun fire, but is distracted by a burst of energy shot out of a nearby corridor, blinding him momentarily with its radiance. He covers his eyes with his gauntlets, bracing himself for a surprise attack from the front as he takes a knee to the ground. He could hear the sounds of feet scuffing in front of him, along with glass hitting the ground, as if someone slid in from the sidelines. 

It wasn't an attack - no, it was a defensive shot. He squinted to sharpen the image of the shadow of whoever rushed to his defense, assuming it was Midoriya.

Time ceases its natural flow as Bakugo realizes who’s standing in front of him. He was speechless, mouth agape as he couldn't help the few stray tears fall from his awestricken eyes and roll over the leather of his mask. 

A glimmering energy shield danced in front of the two of you as you peer over your shoulder, shooting him wink and a smile.

"It's fine now, Dynamight. Why? Because I am here!"

Bakugo snorts, laughing hysterically at the absurd comment. His laugh is contagious and gets you giggling - your heart soars into the heavens hearing his laughter again, his joy curing the darkness swirling in your head temporarily. You never thought a moment like this would return to you anytime soon, and yet here you are, cackling at a dumb joke with your best friend on the damn battlefield. 

"Get up already, idiot," you chuckle, turning toward and extending a hand for him to take. His signature shit-eating grin spreads over his lips as he takes your hand with no hesitation.

"You came," you whisper, his hand lingering in your grasp.

Bakugo smiles, his eyes the gentlest you've ever seen them. "You called."

He tugs you into a hug, careful not to crush you too much with his gauntlets. He wants to melt into a puddle with the way you're clutching onto him like you can't get close enough, burrowing your face into his chest. You breathe him in, the faint scent of burnt sugar filling your senses while clawing at the back of his hero suit, not able to contain the heartache of being apart for so long - how it could have been your final days in this wretched hell.

Finally - you're reunited. You've found him, and he's found you. 

Everything's going to be...okay.

"Y/N, Kacchan - watch out!" Midoriya calls from hall, black whip vines reaching for the two of you. 

But it's too late. 

Again.

The energy barrier crackles behind you as it evaporates into the air. Everything begins to fade into a haze, that all too familiar filtered vision returning to you. Soon enough, you're slumping into Bakugo, your feet failing to keep you upright. 

"H-hey! What's wrong?!" he panics, clutching you tighter as your arms go limp, letting go of his back. "Talk to me, Y/N! What's happening?!"

That's when Bakugo peers over your shoulder and sees one of the dart capsules stuck in the back of your thigh, the injection mechanism switched on with an empty vial. There's a set of broken glass nearby, but that was only one of the darts. The second broke through the forcefield, your quirk not strong enough to parry both shots.

You can take it - you've endured it for a month. 

What's one more dose?

"Fuck! Lite-brite, hang on, I got ya," he reassures while taking a knee, lying you down as daintily as he can before ripping the dart from your thigh. You don't react - shit, you can't even feel the needle being pulled from your skin. He watches your eyes glaze over, their usual shine lightless under whatever chemicals are working their way through your system. 

"K-Ka-Kat-suki...," you whimper through broken syllables, unable to form a coherent sentence. 

Bakugo strokes your shoulders. “I’m here, I’m not leavin' ya.”

"Aww, what a lovely reunion!" the woman chimes in mockingly, regaining Bakugo's attention. The guards next to her have sheathed their guns and stand with their arms crossed.

"Color me surprised that she not only has connections to top ranked heroes, but close relationships with them? Talk about luck."

"What did you do to her?!" Bakugo's chest tightens, fury brewing hotter within himself. Midoriya makes his way over and slides to the ground beside Bakugo in a defensive stance.

"Little miss hero has been such an obedient subject, our best results thus far. Her quirk factors are strong - exactly what we were looking for."

"What did you give her?!" Midoriya repeats, eyes narrowing in her direction. 

The lady cackles to herself, proud of her accomplishments in breaking you from the inside out for her own benefit. 

"She was gullible enough to believe I was an undercover hero! I let her reach out so it would be easier to round up more test subjects - especially heroes. These civilian quirks were getting tiresome and boring to study." 

You were so fucking stupid for believing her. How could you be so naïve? The torture of this place was getting to be too much...you needed a miracle, no matter how narrow the possibility of escape looked. The desperation to be free was stronger than the ability to see through her lies. 

"She fell into our laps at the perfect time. Her psionic energy quirk has been groundbreaking for our serums, especially the hallucination and forced quirk exertion compounds. Speaking of, that one should be kicking in any minute now."

On queue, your body begins to twitch on its own, a surge of energy zapping you back to life. It's as if you're being puppeteered by an invisible handler, rising from the ground and to your feet. 

Both boys rocket to their feet, taking a guarded step back from you. Your head hangs low while your fingers flex, a glow emanating from your palms. Before they can ask any questions, your head snaps up at them, a spellbound look in your now flickering irises. 

"-the fuck?" Bakugo mutters, a horrified expression on his face. The pain is excruciating as the pressure of the energy is begging to be released in any way possible. You can't vocalize the pain through your quivering lips, the only hint at the anguish being the lone tear streaming down your face. 

"Now, subject 57 - begin sequence 23," the lady dictates, clapping her hands.

The instinct to fight becomes impossible to ignore, drowning out all of your attempts to regain control of your body. Instead, you're on auto-pilot, launching an attack toward Bakugo and Midoriya. They dodge out of your range, but you pivot lightning quick toward Midoriya, gunning to attack him.

"Hey, it's me! Izuku!" he yells as he weaves through your strikes, thinking it could wake you up from the mind control of the drug. "You know me!"

You successfully land an energetically charged punch to the right side of Midoriya's jaw, knocking him backward before kicking him in the chest and sending him skidding across the concrete. 

Bakugo approaches you from behind while you're distracted, gripping your shoulders firmly. 

"Calm down! We can work-"

You silence him by placing a hand on both his gauntlets, not bothering to turn and face him. Shockwaves of energy come bursting from your hands - his gauntlets shatter into pieces instantly, leaving his arms and face cut open from the shards. Next thing he knows, your fist is connecting to the underside of his jaw.

Bakugo grunts from the impact, gritting his teeth as he's trying to hold onto you a second time. 

"Hey! I know you're in there!"

Should we answer the door, or slam it in his face? 

…who the fuck is in my head?!

The devilish grin settling on your lips is enough to send shivers down his spine - that's not you. Something’s gotta be fucking with you in your head from the drugs. He swallows nervously, not knowing what to do to help you. You shove him away from you with an energy blast to the chest, sending him careening to the concrete like Midoriya. 

Your chest is heaving, huffing and puffing as the drug surges through every avenue of your body. You can barely form a cohesive thought, let alone understand what's happening around you. It's as if you are seeing yourself through a kaleidoscope lens - this unknown version of you  in the drivers seat. 

“What a marvelous display of success!” The woman cheers, hands clasped in front of her happily. “The ‘Overdrive’ serum is exceptional in true combat.”

Something whips at you from behind and wraps around your arms and torso. 

“Stay…still!” Midoriya shouts, pulling the black whip vines taut to keep you in place. You wiggle in its grasp, grunting and thrashing around like a caged animal. 

“Ah, fuck that hurt…Deku! Let her go,” Bakugo calls out as he’s picking himself up off the ground, wincing at the pain in his jaw. “I got her. Take care of that bitch in the coat!”

“But Kacchan, the drug-”

“Trust me, dammit! Let her go before I make you!”

Midoriya retracts black whip as it releases its hold on you. He’s about to leap toward the group of scientists when the rest of the rescue team appears with the hostages in tow, scurrying down the far hallway. He motions for them to keep going to their exit as planned. Uraraka shoots him a nod and thumbs up. 

“Huh? Who opened the cell locks?!” The lady yells, pointing to the rescue team as they disappear down the corridor to freedom. She’s about to charge after them when Midoriya stomps in her path, fists raised in preparation to fight. 

“Your fight’s with me, lady. No matter what, you’re under arrest according to the laws of hero society. You can surrender, or I can make you surrender.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than a threat to bring us in, hero. We’re making world changing progress that's far beyond your jurisdiction.”

Midoriya winds back and jumps into action against the scientists. Meanwhile, Bakugo’s got his eyes locked on you on the far side of the room, gesturing for you to come over to him. 

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, I don’t wanna fight,” he starts, taking cautious steps in your direction to close the gap between you two. “I wanna help, Lite-brite. I know you're in there.” 

You can't trust him, he's a monster and you're his prey. He's only here to hurt you, to keep you down. Don't let him near us...don't let him near us!

He stops in his tracks when you visibly recoil, clutching your head in your hands with a blood curdling scream. Midoriya whips his head around to the sound, catching him off guard and causing him to take a hit from one of the men. He shakes it off, trusting Bakugo with your well being instead of rushing to your side. 

Bakugo sprints to you, wrapping his blood stained arms around you with no hesitation. You flail, smacking at his arms with open palms, weakened energy pouring out of you with each hit.

Hurt...kill him. Take the monster down.

"Let go of me, Katsuki!" you shriek out of nowhere, hopelessly trying to shove him away from you. 

"No! I'm never letting you go again!" he shouts back, squeezing you tighter. The bursts of energy from your palms are kicking up in strength again as you continue to swat at his body, red marks forming on his exposed skin. 

"I'm not fuckin' losing you a second goddamn time!" 

He can tell that you're spiraling, that this serum is driving you mad inside your head. If only he could go into your mind and pluck out those vicious thoughts, free you of the agony and take some of that weight onto his shoulders.

If you don't take care of him, I'll make you.

"I don't want to hurt you, I can't control this!" You're sobbing, the looming thoughts forcing you to wallow in the pain. "Please...!"

Bakugo grapples the back of your suit, the neoprene material bunched in his shaky hands, locking in his decision to stay put. "I can take it...don't you dare let me go!"

Something in his declaration to stay by your side snaps you back to reality, enough to control the output of your quirk for a split second, stopping the outbursts of energy. The clouds in your eyes start to disperse, clearing the fog from your sight.

You can fight me all you want. I'll always be part of you, waiting in the shadows for you to break again. 

No words leave you as tears gush from your swollen eyes, bawling against Bakugo's chest in defeat. He loosens his grip to pull you away from him, forcibly making eye contact with you. His heart sinks at the sight of your bloodshot stare, but he can see that you're eyes are not as nebulous as before, energy no longer dancing around your pupils. Maybe the drug is wearing off? It's hasn't been an hour, but it's possible this version has a shorter fuse than the normal quirk suppressant.

"No need to cry," he comforts, thumbing away the tears dribbling off your chin. "Everythin's fine. See? Just a few scratches." He points to his biceps and cheek, tiny cuts from the shards of his gauntlets explosively bursting apart. 

That well-known lightheadedness from past experiments returns tenfold, your body's energy depleted to nothing. Bakugo must see the exhaustion in your body language as he helps you settle onto the ground. He takes the mask off his face, untying the back of it. 

"Sit back for a sec."

Bakugo pushes the hair out of your face and runs his hand into your hairline, brushing it back as he stretches the leather of the mask over your forehead. He ties a small knot at the back and tucks it under the remainder of your hair, creating a makeshift headband. Once he's satisfied with it, he taps the earpiece to call into the rescue team.

"Need someone to call the agency, get the cops here an' round up these assholes."

Kirishima responds instantly. "You wanna call the agency? I thought-"

Bakugo cuts him off. "Change'a plans. Get on it, Red! And have Cheeks come back down, need her to lift Lite-brite outta here." He huffs before tapping the earpiece a second time to disconnect the line and casts his eyes toward Midoriya. Two of the scientists are knocked unconscious, the only person left being the witch that started it all.

Bakugo's attention is drawn back to you at the sound of your sniffling. Your tears have dried on your cheeks, faint stains reflecting in the light. He knows you're safe now, no longer lashing out uncontrollably from the fucked up substance in your system. You look like you could collapse and pass out at any moment, but are fighting the urge to let yourself rest.

"Hey," he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear. You turn, head tilted to the side like it's too heavy for your neck to hold, blinking lazily at him.

Even in this disheveled state, Bakugo is aching to kiss you. He knows it's not the right time, not even close to the perfect moment, but the desire burning a hole in his chest is difficult to ignore. Fuck - he didn't even know if he was ever going to see you again outside of his dreams, and here you are.  ~ TIME: 10:38PM "You think you have me cornered, don't you?" the lady jeers at Midoriya. "A revolution is upon us - my revolution. My masterpiece is ready."

Without warning, she pulls a dart gun out of her lab coat, positioning it against her jugular vein. The sounds of her wicked snickering fill the concourse as the dart gun fires, injecting an unknown toxic into her bloodstream.

"Kacchan!" Midoriya cries out, catching Bakugo's attention. "We've got a problem!"

The dart gun clatters to the ground as the scientist convulses, her limbs spasming unnaturally as she wails in pain. She composes herself after a moment, raising her gaze from the floor to Midoriya, her eyes aflame with energy pulsing out of them.

Holy shit. 

She's got your quirk.

"Not so tough now, boys! Now come on, let's dance!"

⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i'm so, sooooo sorry for the delay on this chapter! hopefully it being the longest in the series makes up for it! i honestly just kept writing, deleting, writing, deleting for over a month. but i'm content with this. enjoy the ride! ⇢  tag list! @bakugouswaif @k1tk4tkatsuki @bells2319 @st0nedbitch @deftonianfr @musicbecky @bakubae-by @slayfics @maddietries

[lovelettersforthedamned]

peter and "dont give me that fucking look."

Stupid In Love

✮ tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

✮ word count: 0.7k

✮ summary: Your dinner date is forgotten in Peter's mind, and this was the last thing you needed as tension arises.

✮ warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, language, fluff at the end.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list ⋆ four-hundred follower bash

not my gif. credits to the owner :)

That spark in you was slowly building into a steady flame. Peter’s presence was overwhelming and your heightened anger only projected it. 

You blew up at Peter earlier. As another dinner date flew by his brain, you couldn’t help but feel he didn’t value your time as much as you valued his. Short responses and the silent treatment signaled to him that something was wrong, and as much as he’d like to pretend he didn’t know, he definitely knew. 

He knew the moment he saw your face fall at his suggestion of staying in for dinner. Along with the immediate turn away from him to make a beeline straight to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Peter didn’t want to push your buttons anymore, so as he sat on the opposite side of the couch from you, he didn’t dare say another word. 

You were on your phone, scrolling through mindless content, trying to distract yourself from Peter when he started to inch his hand closer to you. His fingers were trying to find an ounce of your touch, typical. There wasn’t a time when Peter wasn’t touching you. For him to go an hour without your touch was torture. He knew you were still upset, so he was testing the waters. 

Your legs are sprawled out on the length of the couch when Peter's hand rests on your ankle, causing you to look up at him; unamusement clear on your face. And in response, he looks offended. Huffing a sarcastic laugh, you speak for the first time all afternoon, “Don’t give me that fucking look.” 

Your words took Peter back. “Baby,” he starts, a hint of desperation in his voice, “whatever I did, I’m sorry.” 

Somehow, he made it worse, “Whatever you did?” You pull your legs into your chest, leaving his hand to fall on the fabric of the couch. He’s speechless, his mouth is open in stupidity. “Maybe if you valued our time together, you would’ve known we had dinner tonight at that new place around the corner.” You look down at your phone for the time, “That was almost half an hour ago, but it’s fine!” 

You stand from the couch and walk to the bathroom again, but this time, you don’t close the door behind you. While you leave, Peter is going through his mental calendar and groans when he realizes you’re right. He knows better this time. Peter’s not going to let you go. 

As you rinse your face off with cool water, you look back in the mirror to see Peter standing behind you. Rolling your eyes, you grab a face towel and try to leave the cramped bathroom, but a soft grip on your arm stops you. “Let me go, Peter,” you say without looking into his eyes. 

“I value our time together more than you’ll ever know, bug,” his tone is serious, but his voice carries a softness that he uses only for you. He can see tears forming in your eyes. His heart breaks at the sight, “You will always be my number one priority, and I’m sorry I haven’t expressed that recently, but I’ll never let you go, (Y/N). So please,” you finally look into his eyes, “let me make it up to you. For all of it.”

You tilt your head back and take a deep breath, before leaning into Peter’s frame. You can feel him let out a sigh of relief as he wraps his arms around you. Into his chest, you mumble, “Can we go to that restaurant tomorrow night?” 

“We can go every night for the next week if you want,” he leans down to place a chaste kiss on your head, “I love you so much.” 

Pulling your head away from his chest, you look up at him, “I love you too Peter. You’re stupid sometimes, but I love you.” 

Peter squeezes you a little tighter and laughs, “I’ll let you call me stupid for the rest of my life if that means I can hear you tell me you love me after.” 

✮ author's note: just a little peter fic to get me back into writing! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support me and your other fav writers. my four-hundred follower bash is happening NOW, so come join us! ok, ily bye!!