#anyway it gets me every time and writing brave boy made me remember it

[chalkrub]

more svanhildr - trying new things, like a brave boy

[mediocre-daydreams]

If you’re comfortable with it, could you do prompt “i knew this would happen” with Peter where the reader is in recovery for anorexia and Peter makes a comment about her looking healthier or something, trying to be supportive but it actually sets her back?

hi nonnie! i hope you're doing well :) i've kept the story a bit vaguer so it could be encompassing of multiple types of EDs and i tried to write out things that could be potentially triggering, so i hope you'll find more comfort than hurt with this fic <3

burnt cookies

peter parker x ed! reader

summary: peter makes a well-intentioned comment about your recovery that ends up making you feel worse. (hurt/comfort fic)

w/c: 2.1k

notes: big tw for ed (eating disorder) content, descriptions of unhealthy relationships with food but no explicit diagnosis mentioned, no specific "methods" mentioned other than throwing something out, no descriptions of bodies

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

it’s been a while since you’d seen peter and may. you’d made the difficult decision to take a month-long health leave from midtown so you could focus on your recovery, and though it was painful and lonely and frustrating, getting to kiss peter for the first time in weeks made everything feel better.

“i missed you,” peter mumbled into your hair, squeezing you closer. he pressed a couple more kisses to your forehead in a steady pattern, making you laugh breathlessly. you’d been with peter for over a year now, but he still managed to give you butterflies.

“i missed you too. and i missed may’s burnt cookies,” you grinned, peeking behind peter’s body, still holding on to you as if you’d disappear, and gave may an awkward wave from beneath peter’s arm that’d trapped your own.

“aw, me and my burnt cookies missed you too,” may smiled, pulling peter off of you so she could envelop you into a hug of her own. the wonderful thing about aunt may was how normally she still treated you, even after you’d told her about your situation. it was nice to feel like you were still a person, not just a medical diagnosis or an anomalistic body to be poked and prodded.

“anyways, what am i doing? come inside, peter’s so boring. i need your presence to brighten up the apartment.”

“hey!” peter gasped jokingly. “i’d say the friendly neighborhood spiderman is pretty interesting.”

you tapped your chin as you wiped your shoes on the doormat and slid them off. “who, the red and blue cosplayer? never heard of him.”

may laughed and shouted a message of agreement behind her shoulder as she made her way into the kitchen to take out her cookies from the oven.

you liked those cookies. not because they tasted good, but because they’d come to mean something to you. maybe you were being sappy, but every time may would bake for you knowing that the end result would probably not be very appealing, it allowed you to associate happiness with food. the cookies were lighthearted, imperfect, and full of love. you always made sure to take a few bites, and her cookies never tasted like numbers or anxiety or regret. they tasted like may’s love for you.

peter took your hand, giving you one of those smiles that made his eyes crinkle. “it’s quiet without you here. well, ned is pretty loud, but it’s not the same. nothing really compares to you.”

peter looked at you fondly. “i’m so proud of you, though. for finding the strength to take care of yourself.” he cupped your cheeks with his hands, watching as you beamed up at him. “you’re so strong. my strong girl. my brave girl.”

“my stupid, horrendous, semi-okay boy,” you sniffed haughtily. “i guess i missed you too, or whatever.”

you remembered the last time you were here. it was a few days before you left school, and you’d felt awful all afternoon. you chalked it up to dehydration, though you were fully aware that it wasn’t. mj had been asking you months ago if you were alright, and you’d reassured her that she had nothing to worry about. when peter and ned caught on shortly afterward, you started upping the lies. the two of them were nowhere near as perceptive as mj (well, nobody can match mj), so the lies only grew larger and grander.

may had brought home a small cake that was on clearance sale, excitedly cutting thick slices for the three of you. it made you nauseous, but you thanked her politely. you had hoped you could sneak away and throw it out, but peter suggested that the three of you eat while watching a movie, so you couldn’t. it sat in front of you tauntingly, and soon your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the cake.

counting was ridiculous, you know, but it made you feel safe. safety from what, you weren’t quite sure. but it had become a routine that you became addicted to, and trying to stop yourself felt like you were going through withdrawal.

“you look good, though. you look healthy.” peter commented, taking your shoulders and holding you at arm’s length so he could examine your body.

you smiled painfully. “yeah, well. i tried,” you grimaced, not wanting to be reminded of your physical appearance. “i feel… better, i guess. i’m just trying to go day-by-day and not overthink it.” you hoped peter would get the message.

“that makes sense. and for what it’s worth, i think all that trying has paid off. you look like yourself again,” he smiled. “you look like when i first met you.”

oh, right. you’d met him your freshman year, when you were nervous and insecure and hadn’t quite fallen into this unhealthy pattern but were already harboring those nasty thoughts. you wondered if you’d been like this for the entirety of your relationship. did peter even know you, or did he just know the fucked up, sick version of you? on that note, did you even know you? or had it been so long living like this that you couldn’t remember a relationship with food outside of what you currently knew?

“thanks,” you lied through your teeth. “that means a lot.”

peter sighed contentedly, swinging a reassuring arm over your shoulder and ushering you into a couch. “sit with me?”

you smiled, a genuine one this time, and crawled into his lap like the two of you had always done. you fit together perfectly. well, you’d fit together before, but you’d changed now, hadn’t you? did you still fit the same?

“i like having you here,” peter whispered, brushing the hair from your face tenderly. “i had nothing to do. well, literally and figuratively.” the two of you laughed. “but i am- i really am proud of you. i knew you could do it, y’know? never doubted you for a second. ‘cause you’re the strongest girl i know.”

“i have to go to the bathroom,” you blurted. “i have… diarrhea and, uh, cramps. also i’m nauseous, so… bye!” you scrambled off peter’s lap, who looked more concerned for your wellbeing than put off by your blunt confessions.

“wait, are you-”

the bathroom door slammed shut before peter could finish. may turned from where she stood in the kitchen, an oven mitt on one hand as she tried to fan her smoking tray of “cookies.”

“what’s up?” she frowned, coming behind peter to place two comforting hands on his shoulders. she kneaded the muscles, noticing how tense peter was.

“i dunno, she just ran off. i think she has food poisoning. which is… ironic. also unfortunate.” may and peter looked at each other knowingly.

“she doesn’t really have food poisoning, does she?”

“…no. but i don’t know why she ran off like that! i mean, she was totally fine when she got here and it’s been like ten minutes and i feel like she would’ve told me if something bad happened and she needed to go home or something; did i do something wrong? like, should i-”

“woah, pete. calm down, okay? you have to remember, recovery isn’t something that can be totally checked off in one month. she’s still recovering; probably gonna be for a long time. and she just got back after a month of being surrounded by food and doctors and measurements; i think she’d appreciate just having someone giving her a sense of normalcy.”

may sighed. “i knew a lot of girls my age who struggled with stuff like this. a few guys too. it’s all very different for everyone because it’s so personal, but i can tell how happy you make her. i think she’d rather be here with her boyfriend than be here with a hallmark sympathy card, y’know?”

peter’s face scrunched in thought, but he nodded. “thanks, may. i think i’ll go check on her.”

peter knocked on the bathroom door hesitantly. he heard a quiet scuffle and what sounded like a sniff before a brief pause. then, your voice, saying “come in.”

he jiggled the doorknob. “it’s locked.”

“oh,” you muttered, the sound muffled from the barrier between the two of you. you opened the door with your eyes fixed at your feet, but peter opened his arms and you ran into them without hesitation. he could feel wetness soaking through his shirt.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to cry,” you chuckled bitterly. “i’ve been all emotional recently. maybe i’m like, pms-ing, or something. i don’t know.” you pulled away from peter and wiped your eyes. “sorry, the stupidest things overwhelm me sometimes.”

“it’s not stupid. if it overwhelms you, it’s not stupid. the way you feel is important.” peter took both your hands and gave you a reassuring squeeze with one. “i’m sorry for making you feel like you’re not allowed to- to struggle. it’s okay to have ups and downs, baby, i promise. i don’t wanna make you feel like you have to be perfect all the time, or put pressure on you to pretend, for my sake.”

you smiled, bottom lip wobbly. “thanks, pete. sometimes i don’t even feel like a person. i can’t even remember what it was like… before this. i can’t remember what it was like to really live, y’know, freely, without having to think about all this-” you shook your head around for emphasis, “-bullshit. and when you go to treatment, the doctors ask you all these questions about your body and your food and your problems and you just feel like one big problem that needs to be solved. and all that anyone’s been saying to me recently is how much ‘healthier’ i look and how they like me better this way, and it just frustrates me because, like-” you huffed.

“‘cause, fuck you, y’know? i don’t give a fuck about what you like. it’s really, really hard, still, to convince myself that what i’m doing is good for me. it still feels shitty—trying to ‘recover’ or whatever, i mean. so it’s just frustrating that people think i’m automatically better. it makes them think they have the right to berate my older self and praise this ‘new’ version of me, when i feel like i haven’t changed at all.”

peter’s heart sunk at your words and the only thing he could think to do was pull you closer. maybe it was more for his comfort than yours, but he buried his head into the crook of your neck and tried to ignore the watering in his eyes. he’d never thought about it that way. he had barely known what an eating disorder was before you’d told him about your medical diagnosis and that you’d be leaving; of course, he did his research, but he’d never considered the actual psychological effects that the disorder, treatment, and the words of others would have on the person.

it reminded him of when he first started being spiderman. he’d kept it a secret, knowing that the people he loved could be endangered if they knew his identity, but it felt like nobody respected that. ned and mj thought it was cool, whereas peter worried every day that they’d be hurt and it’d be his fault. he’d been spiderman for so long that he couldn’t remember what it was like to be a normal teenager; when his biggest problem was a calculus pop quiz and not an interdimensional alien war.

“that’s a lot,” peter started, unsure of what to say. he settled for not saying anything at all. “and i’m honored that you trust me enough to tell me.” he pulled back to look into your eyes, which were still a little puffy and red. “we don’t have to talk about this now, or ever, if you want. i know you have more than enough people worrying about you. if you just wanna come here and- and forget about all that, i’d be more than happy to bore you to death with star wars trivia and cuddle you until we decompose.”

you wiped your nose ungracefully, too thankful for peter to care about how you looked. “god, i don’t know what i ever did to deserve someone like you. i don’t know how someone like you could even exist,” you giggled. “i love you so much, peter.”

“i love you too. i love everything about you. everything. and even if you don’t love certain parts of you, i’ve got enough love for the both of us.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

peter parker masterlist | main masterlist

taglist:

@bambamwolf87 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @monty2000

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

if you or someone you know is struggling with disordered eating: you are not alone.

please check out these resources if you need support or help:

crisis text and call lines:

NEDA crisis textline: text “NEDA” to 741741 for free support available 24/7 national suicide prevention lifeline: call 988 for free and confidential support

how to support someone with an ed:

harmful things to say to someone with an ed family involvement in recovery how to properly approach + support someone you suspect has an ed / general information and misconceptions 10 affirming statements (use critical judgment per individual!)

other helplines, treatment options, and organizations

SAMHSA's national helpline: call 1-800-662-HELP (4357) for 24/7 free, confidential service + treatment referral in spanish and english ANAD: call 1 (888)-375-7767 for support, treatment referral, and answers to general questions (only available at certain times)

(abbreviated organizations)

ANAD: national association of anorexia nervosa and associated disorders (it's quite long, isn't it?) NEDA: national eating disorder association SAMHSA: substance abuse and mental health services association

[heywardsarchive]

Not the Right Time

or, four times the timing wasn’t right and the one time it finally was

word count: 2.4k

pairing: pope heyward x fem! reader

warnings: none that i can think of

hii it’s been a long time lol:p

first piece of work in more than a year!! anyway hopefully i’m back into the swing of writing

special mention to @mvybanks who was one of the main reasons i got inspired to write again

1

you’d been in love with pope for as long as you can remember. you were a kook and he was a pogue but that didn’t bother you or your families. ever since you started frequenting his fathers shop when you were fifteen, the two of you were joined at the hip. pope introduced you to his friends and you became an honourary pogue.

falling in love with him was easy, he was everything you wanted in a boy. he was smart, kind, brave and put others before him. you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. it was a surprise he hadn’t noticed because everyone else had. maybe he had noticed, maybe he didn’t feel the same. you didn’t mind, just being in his presence and showering him with love, be it platonic or romantic was enough for you.

the pogues had dragged you to the kegger with them and you sat on a log with kie, nursing a glass of cheap beer in your hand, not really paying attention to the touron next to you who was talking about some horse riding course he did in maine. your eyes were focused on pope who was leaning against a tree chatting up some pretty brunette. you unconsciously let out a sigh which made kie turn to you. she followed your gaze and let out a sound of understanding.

“you should tell him.”

“maybe.” you hummed, still admiring pope from afar. he had a cap on backwards, his rope necklace around his throat and a few bracelets adorning his wrists, if you looked closely enough you could see the green threads of the bracelet you made for him peeking through.

tearing your eyes away from his figure, you stood up, holding your hand out to kie. she looked at you questioningly. “let’s dance.”

pope watched you out of the corner of his eye, the girl he was talking to had wandered off to get another drink. he felt a smile spread across his face as he watched you sway to the music with kie, a big smile on your face.

“he’s looking at you, you know” kie whispered to you, you glanced over your shoulder and your eyes met with popes who raised his glass to you as greeting, sending a smile his way you turned back to kie. “i think nows a good time to do it.” you nodded, but as you turned around to go to him, the brunette returned and pulled pope with her. your shoulders deflated and you shook your head. “it’s not a good time kie, besides i don’t think he likes me that way.” you gave her a watery smile and she wrapped you in a hug, whispering words of comfort into your ear.

2

it’s been years of pining in silence, you’re now 20. 5 years you’ve been in love with pope, waiting for the right time to tell him but it never felt right. you were tired of waiting for him, tired of watching him with other girls, girls who you could never be, ones who were so much better than you in every way.

so when a cute boy struck conversation with you at the grocery store on figure eight, you didn’t reject his advances. he was charming with striking green eyes and raven hair. his name was nathan, he’d recently moved to the outer banks from a small town in kansas.

nathan and you hit it off, you spent a small part of your day chatting with him or meeting him on dates. when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend you gladly accepted. he wasn’t pope but he was special and you could see yourself falling in love with him.

kie was happy for you when you told her the news, glad that you were finally moving on. pope on the other hand was a different story. at first he didn’t believe you then he got a bit upset but recovered quickly, telling you that he was happy for you and sending you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

after you left the wreck to meet nathan, kie leaned on the counter in front of pope. “so you wanna tell me what that was all about?” she raised her eyebrow as sign for pope not to lie.

he put his head in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. “i just, i don’t know. hearing her talk about him that way makes my heart squeeze in my chest. i think i might be in love.”

“pope, i love you, you’re my best friend but y/n is like my sister and i have seen her spend way too many years being in love with you, so i implore you not to do anything that will break her heart. if you love her, then tell her, if you aren’t sure then please don’t say anything.”

pope nodded. “i wasn’t planning on telling her anything, not right now anyway. she’s happy and i don’t want to ruin it for her. it’s not a good time to say anything.”

3

another five years had passed, you were now 25. nathan and you were going strong. you loved him, he was everything you could want and more but he had only one flaw, he wasn’t pope. even after all these years you ached for him. seeing him smile made your heart flutter and your chest ache. it was wrong, you know it was but how can you fall out of love with someone who was such a big part of your life and interwoven into every intricate detail?

it shouldn’t have surprised you when nathan got down on one knee and proposed to you on a beautiful starry night, but it did. your hands flew to your mouth in gasp and tears collected in your eyes. you said yes but your heart wasn’t fully in it. you knew that you would be happy with nathan and would live a contented life, that was enough.

the news of your engagement spread quickly among your friends. sarah and kie called you up squealing loudly already making wedding plans for you and planning your bachelorette. you should have been beaming with joy and happiness but you wanted to cry.

you knew that pope had probably heard about the engagement but you wanted to tell him yourself. in a way it was to give yourself some closure about a love that should have died a long time ago, but still shined as bright as a candle in the dark.

you knocked on his door, after a moment, popes face came into view. registering that it was you, he stepped out and closed the door behind him. he stood with hands in his pockets, not quite meeting your eyes. “hey.”

you wrung your hands. “i take it that you’ve heard the news.”

“yeah, congratulations on your engagement. nathan is a lucky man.” there was an undertone of bitterness in his voice which you did not fail to notice.

“yeah…” you smiled half heartedly, looking at your shoes.

“why are you really here y/n? i know it’s not to tell me about your engagement.” pope’s tone had changed suddenly, your face shot up and you noticed he had stepped closer to you. any closer and your noses would touch.

“you know why.” feeling bold, you moved closer to him, your breaths now mixing.

“i need you to say it.” he gulped.

“no. you know how i feel. i need you to say it, or don’t say it. i need to know i’m making the right choice!” you cried out, feeling a lump form in your throat.

pope looked at your figure, your eyes were watering and you were biting your lip, a sign that you were trying not to cry. he reached out and wrapped you in his arms, running his fingers through your hair.

“you know i can’t do that, it’s not the time for all that, you’re getting married y/n, he’s a great guy and, and i’m really happy for you.” his voice cracked as he whispered the last sentence into your ears and you started to sob hearing his voice, your tears wetting his blue shirt. you fingers curled around the fabric and you stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, possibly for the last time.

you pulled away from him and turned around, your gaze fixed on the ground. “goodbye pope.” and headed toward your car, leaving the man you loved in the front yard of his house.

4

months had passed since that day in popes yard, it was the day before your wedding. sarah and kie were were the best bridesmaid and maid of honour you could ask for and had pampered you brilliantly. nathan was so loving and you felt guilty for being so willing to leave him all those months ago.

it was dark outside and you sat on your bed, checking that all your jewellery and makeup was in its place for the big day tomorrow. you heard a knock on your room door. “come in!”

you didn’t look up thinking that it was your mother or sister.

“hey.” a male voice called, popes voice. your head shot up at the sound. “what are you doing here?” you inquired, closing the room door behind him.

he had his hands in his pockets and kept his gaze fixed on the ground. “i’ve come here to tell you not to marry him.”

“what?” you almost screamed incredulously.

he cringed and the sound and nodded. “yeah, i’m sorry for doing this to you but you cannot marry him. not when i love you more than anything and i know that you love me too.”

you were fuming with anger. how could he do this to you after everything?

“no. no you do not get to come here and say that you love me the day before my wedding. not when you know i’ve loved you since we were kids!”

popes mouth opened like he wanted to say something. you didn’t let him.

“no you don’t get to talk! how could you do this to me? you say you love me but you waited till the day before i married someone else, someone who is so good to me, who loves and cherishes me? this is not the time for such confessions pope! i want you to leave. don’t come for the wedding, please.” your eyes were red and watery, pointing at the door for him to leave.

he obliged but just before he shut the door he said, “you never said you loved him. only that he loved you.”

you collapsed on your bed and stared at the ceiling. why did everything have to be so complicated?

+1

you barely slept all night, tossing and turning. popes words played in your mind all night. “you never said you loved him. only that he loved you.”

when day finally broke and the light streamed into your room through the gap in the curtains, you sat up in your bed and put your head in you hands, gripping your hair tightly.

so caught up in your own head, you didn’t even hear the door open and your mother enter the room. “good morning honey.” she say down beside you. you looked at her, you were sure you looked like a sight. dark eye bags and you hair a mess from pulling at it so much. “hi.” you muttered.

“what’s wrong?” she asked you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“just have a lot on my mind.” you tried to muster a fake smile, but failed.

“is it perhaps something to do with pope?” she raised an eyebrow. your mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to find the right words. “how did you know?”

she smiled, “i’m your mother, i know you. and besides, i saw him leave the house yesterday looking pretty devastated. now tell me, what’s wrong?”

there was no point in lying so you told her everything. how he told you not to marry nathan, that he loves you and how you didn’t know what to do. you were sobbing again by the end.

your mother wrapped her arms around you. “do what your heart tells you. don’t worry about what the others will say, i’ll deal with them. listen to yourself. this is your whole life ahead of you, don’t throw away what you’ve always wanted because you’re afraid of the consequences. no matter what happens, i’m here for you, your father and your sister will support you no matter what, okay? now come down for breakfast and actually think about what you want. you still have time.” she patted your back and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again.

you freshened up, ate breakfast and were back in your room once again, getting dressed for your big day.

you put on the white gown and looked at yourself in the mirror. it was beautiful but it didn’t feel right. you looked around your childhood bedroom and your eyes fell on the pictures pinned on the bedpost. the photo of you, john b and jj lying on top of eachother on the sand, the picture of you sarah and kiara pouting at the camera and finally the picture of you squishing popes cheeks while he grinned.

you traced your fingers on the last picture.

it was clear now, you knew what you had to do.

****

pope was sitting sadly on his couch, beating himself up for letting you slip through his fingers when he heard a knock on the door.

he lazily got up and opened the door, but when he saw who was on the other side, he thought he was dreaming. you stood there, in your white gown and veil smiling at him.

you looked so beautiful in your wedding gown, he forgot how to speak. “what are you doing here?” he asked, voice breaking as he soaked in your figure.

you walked closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips, one that you had longed for since you were a teenager, he was shocked but recovered quickly, kissing you back.

“i didnt do it, i didnt marry him.” you smiled at him, arms still wrapped around his neck. “what?”

“i couldnt do it. it wasn’t fair to him, nor to me. i told him that i was sorry and that i was in love with someone else. he wasn’t very happy about that of course, but he understood.”

“so what does that mean for us?” pope inquired.

“i means that it’s finally the right time to tell you that i love you” you pressed a kiss to his lips, holding him close.

[sunlightandsuffering]

I HAD TO REWRITE THIS AN IM SO FULL OF RAGE ABOUT IT BUT HERE IT IS!! AS CLOSE T THE ORIGINAL AS I CAN REMEMBER !! BUT UGH TELL ME WHY THE Y/N FANDOM GETS TO HOARD STONER EREN!?!? Tell me!! Why no one in our fandom writes him!?!? GIVE ME AN ANSWER!!!

Ugh anyway, here have stoner EM, bc I think lazy stoner Eren is somehow immensely attractive.

ston·er

/ˈstōnər/

noun

a person who regularly takes drugs, especially marijuana.

Stoner.

It's a label Mikasa has become increasingly familiar with throughout her academic career. From high school to university, it's a label she is now intimately aware of.

Not because she smokes the devil's lettuce, no, not at all. But because despite rhyme or reason, her infatuation with their small town's resident stoner will not die.

"Mikasa, you're staring again." She huffs in irritation, turning to give Armin a glare, ripping her gaze away from where the very object of her affections lays under a tree in the quad, his head laid upon some pretty girl's thighs as he smokes up between classes. "You don't have to call me out every time." Armin shoots her a daring smile, "I do actually." She releases an annoyed breath, her eyes darting back to the brunette boy in the middle of the quad, handsome and uncaring, very much unlike her, who is currently studying her ass off for midterms.

Armin smacks her arm again as she gets lost in his figure, his tall stature, long legs in black joggers, a grey t-shirt sticking to the corded muscle of his arms, just the slightest hint of his abs where his t-shirt pulls up to expose bronze skin. "Mikasa!" She glares at her blonde friend menacingly, just let her have this at least. This is her break, her reward for all her hard work studying.

It’s not easy being pre-med these days. "See, this is why I need to call you out, if I didn't we'd never get anything done." "Whatever," she mumbles, her eyes sliding back to him, Eren Yeager, her childhood best friend, and the only boy that's every made her heart go boom.

"I don't know why you like him so much, I'm pretty sure he's a criminology major. Wants to be a cop, but he's doing illegal activities almost 100% of the time." Mikasa frowns as she stares off into the distance, her stomach tugging painfully as she watches Eren bury himself in some random girl's stomach. She doesn't know why she like him either, but it won't leave, and she's not entirely sure how to get rid of the feelings, believe her, she's tried. "I don't know, I just," she sighs wistfully, "he's Eren." Armin shakes his head, "And he's really pretty, just be honest." Mikasa turns, her cheeks heating rapidly because that is also true. She smiles sheepishly at her blonde friend, admitting to it, "And he's really pretty." Armin groans, "I wish my love life was quite so easy."

Mikasa shrugs, her attention slipping right back to Eren again, "Whatever, it totally could be, you're just a pussy and you won't talk to Annie. That's entirely your fault." Armin sputters in disbelief, she can hear him choking behind her as he closes up his binder, "And your inability to talk to Eren isn't yours?"

Mikasa gives him a dirty look, "No, Eren and I are starcrossed, we can never be, that's not my fault."

"You barely talk to him, every time he says hi you get all flustered and start berating him about something stupid before telling him to say hi to his mom."

Mikasa packs her own books up a little too aggressively as she snaps back, Armin having hit a sore spot, "Well at least I talk to him!" Armin stares at her in disbelief, "Fine, go talk to him right now if you think you're so great MIkasa. I dare you, go right now and strike up a friendly conversation. Hell ask him to go for coffee with us later." Suddenly her previous assertions aren't quite so brave, especially at the prospect of talking to Eren.

“I can’t,” she says turning back to her computer, eyes set on the article she’d been reading for her biology class, “I’m studying.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re said you were taking a break.”

If looks could kill, Armin would be dead as she scowls at him from over her laptop, “Well it’s over now, Armin.”

The blonde scoffs, turning a page in his textbook, “Sure Mikasa, I think you’re just a wimp. You’re never gonna do anything about it, just face it. He’s probably going to end up with some other stoner girl smoking up in the back of his cop car.”

Mikasa frowns at the vivid picture her friend paints, he’s not necessarily wrong, and as she chances a glance back at the tree he’s sitting under, the idea seems awfully plausible, especially as he breathes a heavy exhale into some girl’s mouth.

“You’re right,” she says, slamming her laptop shut with determination, she can’t allow this future to come to pass.

Armin guffaws, “Mikasa I was kidding, you barely talk to Eren!”

She scowls at him, tone haughty as she reacts to his lack of confidence in her, “Well now I am.”

Abruptly she stands from her seat, and before she can stop herself she’s marching towards Eren with lock quick strides, her pretty white skirt billowing in the wind as she marches with purpose.

Before she knows it she’s there, looking down his attractive form, her silver gaze clashing with spring green eyes, hazy with the high of marijuana. He exhales a long drag of smoke, and there is something hot about how flagrantly he breaks the rules.

Maybe her mom’s biggest fear is right, she has a thing for bad boys, but either way Mikasa can’t deny the way her heart skips a beat as Eren finally notices her.

He blinks up at her lazily, one rough calloused hand coming up to shield his eyes from the sun as he struggles to comprehend who’s standing before him.

“Miks?” He questions in confusion his rough voice wrapping around her name so perfectly, and shit, there is one of the reasons her obsession with the town stoner is so dangerous: his nicknames.

Usually she hates them, a concept carved into her by her mother’s sense of propriety. Mama Ackerman chose her name carefully, and it’s a beautiful one, Mikasa, so people everywhere damn well better be using it.

Eren had never abided by these rules, grinning at her mom cheekily every time he’d call her something other than her name, a small rebellion, and some part of Mikasa absolutely adored it.

Miki, Mika, Miks, ‘Kasa, Mimi, he’s called her by every one in the book and it makes her heart positively flutter. And in a stark contrast to her mother’s views she doesn’t see Eren’s nicknames as disrespectful in the least, if anything it’s a love letter to her name itself, the way he wraps his mouth around each sweet intonation, each vowel emphasizing a different part.

When they were younger, had still been friends, before Eren had rebelled, before his dad died and he’d taken to smoking up as his preferred coping mechanism, still lived in the house across the way, she’d heard it every day, sweet nicknames called as they played in the street, as they caught the bus together. But now, how long has it been, when did they last interact?

The utterance of the nickname alone sends a shiver up her spine, and her cunt aches, the rough edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before, she’s never heard him say it quite like that.

Shit.

“Hi Eren,” she chirps out, her voice coming out much higher than she’d wanted, and she struggles to even out her tone.

“Hi Miki,” he repeats back to her teasingly, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I umm-“

She struggles for a moment, her brain short circuiting, she’d never anticipated getting this far, her interactions with Eren usually consist of short awkward arguments, started mostly by herself out of self-preservation.

“I—“

His lips quirk up slightly at her inability to voice her thoughts and her prompts her, “Yeah sweetheart?”

She opens her mouth to finally spit something out, a confident young woman, studying pre-med, she’s calm and assertive, but she never gets the chance because the groupie next to Eren scoffs in agitation, “Can you hurry it up, you’re blocking my sun, it’s killing the vibe.”

Mikasa deflates like a limp balloon, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. She’s suddenly aware of the third party watching her make a complete fool of herself.

Worse yet, she’s probably close with Eren too. She didn’t think he currently had a girlfriend, but he had been sleeping on her lap not five minutes ago, so maybe her information is false.

But before she can apologize and leave, Eren is snapping, turning to the girl in irritation, “If you don’t like it, you can leave Heather.”

The girl gasps in outrage, her cheeks puffing up, but Eren shoots her a look that brokers no argument, and with an angry huff she’s gathering her things and stomping off towards the parking lot.

Mikasa is pleasantly surprised by the whole ordeal.

Eren shrugs, turning back to her as if he didn’t just dismiss his friend so callously, “So what were you saying Miks?”

She hesitates for a moment, maybe this is the universe giving her a chance to get out while she still can, before she embarrasses herself further. But she can’t lose this opportunity, here, now in front of him, no one else around, it’s her chance.

Tentatively she speaks, forcing out each word, “I was thinking, maybe we could go for coffee or something sometime.”

He hums in consideration, taking another long drag of his joint, looking up at her lazily through his long dark eyelashes, really it’s unfair how pretty he is, especially since he so obviously doesn’t care.

He exhales a long deep breath, and Mikasa watches as his throat bobs with each movement, how beautiful he is.

The wind picks up, blowing the smoke away and her long white maxi skirt in the wind, the fabric billowing around her thighs, the leaves rustling above them.

She tucks her hair behind her ear as it blows in her face, the slit of her skirt exposing just the creamy skin of her upper thighs.

She blushes as she realizes, a hand reaching down to cover herself but Eren tsks, his hand catching hers to smoothie over her thigh, his gaze transfixed on the smooth skin.

He traces from the apex of her thighs down to the soft sensitive skin just behind her knee and she gasps audibly at the sensation.

Eren glances up at the sound, his eyes far away, but they catch on her expression and a wicked smirk crawls up his face as he skims back up to her thigh and then down to her calf.

He squeezes gently around her ankle before reluctantly letting her go, leaning back against the tree with a sigh.

Eren settles back against the large oak tree, “I might be down,” he murmurs, taking another drag of his joint, “But I don’t like coffee.”

“Oh,” she says excitedly, “We can do something else, maybe dinner—“

He cuts her off, exhaling another breath of smoke, smirking unapologetically at her, “No.”

She deflates a little, giving up slightly, is he just teasing her?

“Then what do you want?”

His smirk widens, his eyes flashing with mischief as he leans further back into the tree, his other arm coming up to pillow his head, biceps flexing appealingly, “You.”

Mikasa is struck by the fact that maybe her obsession with the town’s resident stoner isn’t so one-sided at all.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Holaaaaa!!! I'm here!!! TUMBLR don't you fucking dare 🤨

Ok... here we go!!

I Don't Fucking Have Daddy Issues!

THE BEGINNING

Dear Shinyun,

I hope you are well.

Remember when I didn't like Shinyun?? I was wrong I'm a better hoe now!!

The only reason I’m writing to you – and to Edom by extension – is that I truly believe I earned this scholarship.

Yes, you have... I'm so proud of Magnus!!

“Nah. I know you liked it,” Alec grins into his neck.

Magnus smiles widely. “Challenge accepted, Alec Lightwood.”

Alec grins back. “Get to work, Magnus Bane.”

Sexy times are the best times!!!

“Do you know someone called Camille Belcourt?”

Unfortunately!! 🤢

“Um,” Alec says. “You said her name in your sleep.”

I detect lies!!! Alexander what the fuck???

“Valentine found out about Jace and Clary,” Alec sighs. “See? Nothing good comes out of putting your personal shit on the internet.”

Fuck Valentine!!!!

“No,” Alec replies. “It’s Clary’s. She shouldn’t have let this relationship happen. Not when she knows what her father did to Jace-”

No it isn't, I love this parallels so much because we always see things a certain way UNTIL it happens to us, then everything changes, I understand my twin because I am guilty of this myself 😞

“So, what? I can’t talk when I’m drunk?”

You can but you shouldn't, you'll fuck up!!

He doesn’t know if he is defending Clary – or himself.

“You can’t heal in a toxic environment!” Alec says in annoyance.

Imagine this Alec and future Alec having a conversation 😶

“Magnus! We moved on from that! Fucking Christ!”

When?? I haven't, Magnus hasn't!! You know what?? No more drinking for you!!

Magnus is tired of having to live with stuff for the rest of his life.

I wish he could say all those things, I wish his depression didn’t fuck with his communication skills 😭😭

“Yeah. Well. At least he didn’t rape my mom.”

Noooooooooooooo!!!! This is the cursed snippet

All he knows is that apologies feel good.

And Alec is very good at apologies.

I am not at this moment OK 😭

THE MIDDLE

I can already tell this part is going to hurt a lot!!!

“I would if I could,” Rafael sighs. “Anjali doesn’t let me.”

I too would do anything and everything Anjali told me because she is a Godess!!!

This is the first time they’ve canceled their weekly family meetings.

😭😭😭

He wonders who does Max’s hair now.

Is that why Max cut his hair?? 😭😭

Magnus moves forward. “I’d like to see it anyway.

Maybe you should listen to Rafe, he knows best!!

I will not be accepting any criticism about my family!!!! They are ALL going through a lot!! Mistakes will be made!!

“No. No, he doesn’t respond to my messages.”

Mavid pain hits differently, deeper 😭😭

Even though they called the boys Lightwood-Bane, they were only Lightwoods on paper.

What was that??? What about Alec adopting on his own??? 🤨

“Magnus,” Alec says, wiping his face with a wet towel. “What are you doing here?”

Horny mode ACTIVATED 🥵

I have a picture for this 😈 not me visualizing moodboards as I read 🤫

He wants Alec in every way possible to want another human being.

How is this both sexy and sad??

The thought of getting back together, even as a joke, hurts too much.

What is this?? Why am I crying??? I've been through worse, I'm stronger than this!!!

Magnus wants to hold him and kiss his head and tell him it’s okay.

And I want to wrap the four of you in a warm blanket and keep you safe and happy!!

“Which precinct?” Alec asks.

“99th.”

Sorry I can't help myself

“Get him out, Alec,” Magnus hisses. “Get my son out of there right now.”

I love Max, I do but he needs a lesson, being hurt is not a get out jail free card!! I'm with my twin on this one!!

Alec sighs again. “I told you not to look.”

Yeah, but he doesn't listen 😔 and now we're all hurt!!

There is no one stronger in this world than a person who has to fight their own mind. Every single day.

Magnus you are brave!! This whole discussion is awful Max’s words are so hurtful and full of rage 😭

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Magnus asks. “Now you have it.”

Please let this be the wake up call Max needs, I can't take it anymore!!!

The words ‘Go Kill Yourself’ written across his eyes.

😱 Maxwell!!!!

Max comes back to him 27 days later.

🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

THE END

Am I ready for more pain or should I stop??

“No. This is Albany,” he hears the voice reply. “You’re in Albany. You’re home. Dad. Open your eyes.”

This made laugh, I'll be fine!!

“Leslie thinks you have alcohol poisoning.”

No shit 😒

“Get my fucking phone, Max!”

Get it Max, we need to do some damage control... (god I hate those words now, thanks for the new trigger Dani 🥲) RUN MAXWELL RUN!!!

“Not that,” Alec shakes his head. But also, a little bit of that. “The baby.”

THERE'S NO BABY!!! THERE IS HOWEVER A VOICE MESSAGE THAT NEEDS TO BE ELIMINATED!!! Focus people!!!

“Did you seriously get drunk because you thought bapak and Shinyun were gonna have a baby?”

We are dramatic bitches what did you expect!!! Is how we roll!!!

Maybe there is some magic technology that will help them do that. Please!

Nope!! You're going to do the one thing I don't want you to do, call Rafe 😔 I feel dirty, sorry Rafe, you deserve better

Then he hears Rafael sigh. “I’m tired of helping you out, dad.”

This was about that secret I don't wanna know, right??

Max throws the blanket over him and kisses his head. “I love you. You absolute fucking disaster.”

Cachicamo diciéndole a morrocoy conchudo 😒

Alec and Max go on an adventure!!! I love this disaster duo!!!

Oh no, I hate Twitter 🤮

“I hate that they look good though,” Max says, glaring at the cover. “Hot people are fucking annoying sometimes.”

Totally!! How dare they be so hot?! Fuckers!!

Shinyun opens the door.

Noooooooooooooo!!! Is this that other cursed snippet???

Wearing Alec’s white Princeton hoodie.

🥰😍🥰😍 I am living!!!

His guardian angel.

Our guardian angel!! He is best!!!

“No silly,” Max giggles. “The office. The one in Manhattan. It looked very cool in your photoshoot.”

Can you imagine if Max falls in love with Edom? 🤣🤣 because if anyone can make that happen is Shinyun!!

“Your sympathy is appreciated,” Shinyun nods. “Let’s go, Max.”

Alec wonders if it’s too late to back out and try to the hacking option.

Maybe you shouldn't have opened with I fucked up... but we can still salvage this!!

“Use my phone!” Alec holds out his device.

NO! 😳

Magnus frowns. “I’ll get my own.”

NO! 😨

Magnus stares. “You sent me a drunk voicemail, didn’t you?”

Yeah... about that, don't listen to it 🙏🏼

"Just don't," Alec shakes his head. "Please."

Magnus can you please this one time listen to your family? Pretty please 🙏🏼

“Then I don’t want to listen to it,” Magnus says. “Delete it, please.”

🥲 thank you Dani for this mercy 🙌🏼

“I’m sorry this made things weird,” Alec points out, clearing his throat. “I know we are both in a good place. Post-divorce and all.”

Are you? Are you really? Is not a bad place, is better than where you were but let's not get carried away 😒

Look at them talking 😍 is the small things!!

“Yeah,” Magnus nods. “You really went from deleting messages in my inbox to telling me about your creepy voicemails.”

What???

Magnus seems to have fallen asleep on him.

I am happy 🥰

Saying they’ve arrested his son.

Oh no 😔 Rafe!!!

Is not Max... Alec es mi pequeño precioso 🥺

Jace had even told Alec about the incident with Kyle. The truth of it.

Thank you Jace!!!

“Looks like I am doing just fine,” Rafael gestures at their surroundings.

Rafael you are so far from fine... I can’t even!!! Anjali is going to be so pissed

“You can’t make it better now,” Rafael smiles. “You should have fucking left me in Buenos Aires.”

Thank you Dani, I hope you're having a nice time on your trip, post some pictures if you can, your country is beautiful 🤩

💚💚💚💚

Just know that I loved the fuck out of this 😎

[k3n3al]

relationships

my whole life it’s been something i crave

seeing my parents fight everyday was everything i did not want in a relationship

i fantasized about a perfect partner, someone who understood me and would never argue with me or fight with me

this perfection became something i chased and i thought could be attainable

it’s the disappointment of understanding the truth that made me want to become the perfect partner

to be romantic, brave, sensual, groomed, sexually satisfying, masculine, emotionally and mentally helpful to my partner

instead of chasing perfection in a partner, i started to chase it in myself

it started with all the rejections

confessing my love for girls i barely had conversations for

i set myself up for failure

it was my obsession from a far and deluded myself into thinking they were just as obsessed as me

i remember writing a book

it was a book of a fantasy life of family with a girl i had a crush on

i was so proud of this book that i shared it with my classmates

they laughed at it and i smiled back because i did think it was somewhat funny but i really took pride in my work

i buried the book by the front of the school and planned to dig it up once we were together

the girl found the book when someone saw me dig in a hole and gave it to her, she started looking scared

i was so embarrassed, i remember grabbing the book and tossing it into a random backyard

i never spoke to her after that, which was fitting because we never spoke anyway

the years following from elementary school to middle school i would have a main crush and focused on her intensely

it was that hole in my heart of constant rejection and seeing relationships happen everywhere that made me crave it so much

it was senior year of high school

i still never had a true girlfriend and i was a virgin

looking back i don’t know why i gave into peer pressure so easily

maybe because all my friends were living life, having sex with different girls, having girls crush on them and getting into different relationships

i was extremely jealous, i honestly envied them

i started to think, maybe if i wasn’t myself, maybe if i didn’t look the way i did, dressed the way i did, present myself and talk the way i did, i would succeed in that category

so senior year i changed, changed everything

whatever my friends said to do, i did it. i completely changed my appearance

i normally had short hair and i didn’t care much about clothes

after getting trained by them, i had long hair, i starved myself to lose weight, and started focusing on the clothes i wore

i finally got attention from girls

however the opposite feeling that i thought i would get, i got

instead of basking in it and enjoying it, i honestly didn’t like it

i felt like a piece of meat

like every girl interested in me, only saw my mask, my appearance and liked that

but didn’t care for who i was as a person

this is where i messed up

instead of focusing on my passion, i did whatever i could to gain women’s attention

and doing so, i lost myself

i became this self centered, egotistical boy who always cared how they looked, always cared how they were perceived

because i wasn’t myself

and i did everything i could to hold onto that image

now here i am

24 years old and i’ll be 25 next month

i stopped keeping my hair long and i keep it short now

i don’t chase relationships really however i find myself always in one

im with this girl who’s had a crush on me for a long time

we finally started talking and i feel like she really understands me

i finally feel and think i’ve found real love

my last relationships i felt like a piece of meat, some guy with hair that women found attractive

not loving my true personality and identity

im still that boy that likes short hair, loves my family, and loves to laugh and enjoy life

i still have my moments of darkness and my need for revenge

i still have those qualities but i accept them for it just being me

i have a better understanding of who i am now

and i truly am starting to love the real me

i’m not longer chasing perfection

instead i focus on doing the best i can everyday

self improving at least 1% everyday

focus on what i can control, which is relieving, because i can’t control much

here’s to relationships

for helping shape me who i am today

thank you for the rejections, as it taught me to accept myself for me

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

i wonder (if you remember the way we looked at each other)

— Living as roommates with your best friend is easy until someone fucks up and catches feelings.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut fem!reader, and they were roommates, childhood friends!au, university!au, quirkless!au, modern!au, americanized university experience, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, the plot is for the sex AHA, womanizer!shouto, shouto and reader are bad roommates but seiji is worse, shouto has sex at 16 for the first time, vouyerism-ish, iffy shouto tendencies, jealous!shouto, jealous!reader, drunk sex so dubcon depending on you, nipplegasms, reader has nipple piercings, blowjob, switching, marking, biting, scratching, praise kink, missing tag ;)

word count: 20,141

a/n: this is for the roommates bnharem collab! please check out all the other amazing fics and art! note to self, dont get drunk the night before this is due and I hope you guys enjoy this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! also,,, sorry if mobile doesn’t correctly format!

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You cracked your eyes open.

The gentle white stream of light permeated through soft cotton curtains, lighting the room in pale stripes and careful touches. Dust particles danced within the shining light, bending and twirling with the flowing air and moving winds. You breathed in deeply, your body still tired, your head still foggy from a night of distractions and too many drinks. 

Your eyes are closed once again, your still hazy mind trying to ignore the bitter, rank taste of the alcohol and cum on your tongue and your hands scratching as your naked cleavage. There was still enough time in the day; it was Sunday after—

Wait.

CUM?!

Your eyes flew open, your lips smacking each other as you confirm the awful, salty taste of cum on your tongue. Your hands swiping up and down your front to confirm your state of undress. Your heart starts hammering in your chest, your palms immediately sweating as you try to think about just who the fuck you ended up back in bed with.

Think, y/n, think!

A small grunt came from behind you, and you felt your entire body go rigid immediately. The soft expel of air fanning against your sticky neck is both welcomed and untrusted. With what can only be described as you, as stiff as a stick, peering behind your shoulder similar to a mother who definitely heard her child throw up on her bed but is somehow praying that she was hearing shit, you turned around.

A messy bedhead of red and white greeted you: unfocused, sleepy grey, and brilliant blue eyes staring back at you with fond familiarity and welcome.

“‘Morning, y/n,” Todoroki Shouto grumbles, voice husky, scratchy, deeply warm from his slumber. His next words are damning, though, the slight pride and knowing implications in the small breathe he uttered next. “Had fun last night?”

There was silence, a stroke of hesitancy, then crushing all-consuming fear.

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

O N E  W E E K  A N D  A  D A Y  E A R L I E R

“Who the fuck touched my fucking Angry Orchard Rosés?!” a voice snapped from the kitchen; the tone was fed up, seconds from blasting to smithereens.

You were in the living room, a pair of sweats on, your hair not put together, your face still bare. The music you played as part of your pregame ritual was practically vibrating the wooden floor as you sang along to your music. The telling glass bottle of deliciously pink alcohol swinging inconspicuously between your fingers as you drank it between verses. Despite your other roommate (who you repeatedly told your friends to be ‘like Bakugou but a gazillion times worse because you don’t and can’t like him,’) being seconds from trying to start another feud or possibly a lawsuit against you, your mouth dropped in mock shock before guzzling down the rest of the drink.

“I saw that you fucking skank!” Shishikura Seiji screeched from the kitchen; his stomps were long and heavy as he made his way from the kitchen to the living room where you were. “There were two bottles left in there! Don’t tell me your alcoholic ass drank them both! So help me, I’ll press on your damn chest until you’re puking out my drink.”

“Shishikura, stop,” Shouto spoke up, his own arm raising as he took a long, slow drink from the other missing rosé bottle. “These are 2% alcohol, you’ve had them in the fridge for months now, and you never drink them anyways.”

You grinned as you pulled the glass bottle from your lip, your face failing at the fake look of surprise, guilt, and sorrow for your unwanted and unneeded roommate.

“Sorry, they’re such girly drinks. I figured I’d take them off your hands,” you speak with distractingly bright amusement. “Alcoholics like me, we don’t care. Watch out; I might go for your mouth wash if you’re not too careful.”

“You do that, and I’ll poison you like a damn bitch,” Shishikura threatened, his voice in a menacing growl.

“Ooooo, you want me to bark for you, Shishikura? Want me on my hands and knees?” you taunt back, walking backward until you’re collapsing onto the couch besides Shouto. Your arm quickly sneaks between his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Shishikura’s face is flushed red, his pupils beady as he trembles with concealed rage.

“She’s quite good at it,” Shouto chimes in, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smirk as he takes another drink of the weak liquor. He shifts on the couch, allowing you to curl more comfortably at his side; the both of you know just how much your incredibly prude roommate hates any sort of PDA. “Want to hear her bark? She’s also quite good with her tongue.”

As if to emphasize Shouto’s point, you stuck out your tongue, refusing to break eye contact with Shishikura as the tip of your tongue breached the opening of the bottle.

“The actual fuck is wrong with the both of you?!” Shishikura spluttered, his face somehow turning purple and green and red. A truly incredible sight to be had. “‘Childhood friends are great roommates to have’ my fucking ass, you both are monstrosities!”

Shishikura stormed out of the living room, his ears neon red as his purple hair fell to cover his face. As soon as he was out of sight, you turned to Shouto, your tongue removing itself from the bottle and back into your mouth as you began to laugh loudly.

Childhood friends to roommates, ah, what a remarkable story you had with Todoroki Shouto.

It was accurate to relay that you had known Shouto for more than seventeen years now at your current age of twenty-one. Seventeen years of being what is easily seen as the best of friends, the closest companions, and indeed a bond that would withstand time and situation. 

The two of you met during the first week of what was preschool. Although both of you could not remember a single instance of events during this time, your mothers had always been excited to relay this story to you for many years that you could remember. It was odd to try to remember it, but even as they painted a picture of your first interaction, you could do nothing but admit that it sounded exactly like how it could have gone. 

You couldn’t remember being four years old; you don’t recall what it was like to strain your neck to look up at your parents or how it felt to be so utterly dependent but to scream brazenly about your childish independence. Your mother smiles when she retells the story of your first interaction, of how you were holding her hand as she walked you to the building where your preschool was to be had. 

Your hand was so small in hers. Tightly clutching onto her fingers as you looked around at the other children who were also arriving or had already arrived. Some children were bawling by their parents, others aimlessly playing with toys, and some were attempting to talk to one another, but by the apparent looks of curiosity surrounding the babbling and rambling tangents that could only be understood by a firing toddler brain, everyone was getting along. 

A teacher greeted you kindly, squatting down to reach your eye level as they excitedly introduced themselves and asked for your name. You, of course, with your hands clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress, responded with hesitant confidence.

“You’re such a brave girl!” the teacher awed happily, stretching out a hand for you. “Is it okay if I take you from your mom and show you which cubby is yours?”

There was a moment of confusion, then clear understanding hovering over your little head. Your mom looked down with an encouraging smile and pushed you forward.

“Do I get a middle cubby? I don’t want a top one,” you admit, your hand stretching out to grab the teacher’s stretched-out hand. 

Your mother watched on happily as you removed your schoolbag and lunchpail and placed them neatly within the somehow middle cubby marked with your name. The teacher also helped you put on your white school slippers before gesturing towards the bright, colorful room, their mouth moving as if explaining every little detail before pointing at the corner. Your mother tilted her head, curious as she followed the teachers point to the corner of the room where a boy with exceptional red and white hair — split perfectly in the middle — sat quietly, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

(Shouto, although he can not remember this day himself, will argue with you and only you that he was, in fact, NOT crying.)

Trying to not allow the shock of the unnatural hair color affect her, your mother watched as you nodded to your new teacher and walked over with clenched fist confidence to the small boy.

She watched as you approached him, your jaw moving as you so obviously spoke, hopefully introducing yourself. The boy looked up at you with bright, wet eyes but seemed to speak right back to you. 

“Alright, parents! Thank you all for dropping off your children! Do not worry. We will take great care of them all, and they are in competent hands! First days are hard for everyone, so if you can exit quietly, I, and the rest of us teachers, would appreciate that greatly!”

Or at least that’s what Rei claimed the teacher said.  However, your mother was watching on with increasing exponential horror as she watched you throw a punch at the air before twisting around and pointing right at her and saying with a voice that was much too loud.

“Punch whoever made you cry, Shouto-chan! My mama says that it is okay to punch bullies!”

Thankfully no one but your mother heard you, and even though she scolded you on the way out, whisper yelling that you “better not punch anyone!” her relief was for naught.

When she would return in the afternoon, a bit late because there had been a hold up on the train, you were pouting sitting on the floor with a scuffled uniform, your arms crossed definitely. Next to you was the boy with red and white hair, equally scuffed next to a white-haired woman and an older white-haired boy.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” she shrieked, racing over to you.

“Y/l/n-san,” the teacher spoke with a tone that indicated disappointment with the subtle undertone of amusement. “Y/n-chan has something to tell you.”

Your mother had taught you many things, she will admit, in your very short life. But sass and annoyment was something not often seen in your household or in you, and to see it so blatantly on your chubby-cheeked face was quickly giving your mother greys.

“Shouto-chan told me that his stupid bully brother Touya was being a meanie, and so I helped him punch him back!” you said with tears in your eyes because you didn’t want to back down from your actions, but you also did not like being scolded. “I don’t regret it!”

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

“I don’t either,” Shouto-chan grumbled as your mother collapsed to her knees and began to profusely apologize for you to the woman who was undoubtedly Shouto’s mother. “Touya-nii was making fun of my hair again… y/n-chan helped me, though. Please don’t scold her!”

To say the most in the shortest amount of time, you were, in fact, scolded despite Shouto’s begging. Touya stopped making fun of Shouto’s natural hair. Rei accepted your mother’s apology. The teachers were given two bottles of sake.

And, of course, the most important, the most paramount thing to arise from this first day of school was that your and Todoroki Shouto’s friendship was now bound by blood, sweat, and tears.

Preschool became elementary school, which became middle school, and fading into highschool.

It was without saying that your relationship, your friendship with Todoroki Shouto, was probably one of the biggest, most defining parts of your entire life. He was there when your first tooth fell out, when he dropped ice cubes down people’s shirts, you two had bathed together when you were young, had sleepovers well past the age where him being a boy and you being a girl should have made things weird. You laughed when his voice cracked and dropped, he elbowed your chest plenty when you began growing boobs, you taunted his lack of body hair, he bought you your favorite ice cream and heating packs on your first period. You attended cram school together, went to the park and beaches on days off from school. You were partners in every school activity except under specific circumstances. He had listened to you when you told him excitedly about your first kiss when you turned fourteen, and you laughed when he said at the age of fifteen that he had still yet to kiss anyone.

Everyone always claimed, always asked, wondered, and whispered if the two of you were dating. Childhood friends still this close and not dating? Unheard of; practically illegal! Nevertheless, you ignored the disappointed frowns or the hopeful grins as you and Shouto both denied any sort of romantic connection.

Soon the both of you were in high school, and Shouto was mere days from turning sixteen. Much like when the both of you were when you were four years old, you seemed to be the one spouting many words — sometimes unnecessary words that wound you both up in trouble — of wisdom. You were loud when you needed, talking most of the time only to him and your surprisingly large group of friends. (You weren’t that surprised. Everyone wanted to be friends with the handsome, could easily be royalty or a model, Todoroki Shouto.) Shouto remained, for better or worse, quiet, reserved, and a bit awkward. He was a sweet boy, don’t get it wrong, and you would protect him until the end of your days, but the boy was a complete airhead and relied on you for interpreting social interactions.

“Camie-senpai wants me to go over to her house after my birthday,” Shouto explains, his hands exchanging his school shoes for his outdoor ones. “Something about wanting to do that one second-year first-year student project thing for the third years right away.”

“You have Camie?” you ask, slumping against the metal lockers with a slight thud. “Lucky, she’s so nice… I have stupid Agoyamato. Have you had a conversation with him? It’s actually the worst! He thinks he’s all that!”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay; you’re nice enough that he won’t be like… that,” Shouto smiles, slinging his bag on his shoulders before nudging his head towards the exit. “Ready?”

“Am I ever ready?” you ask with a whine but nevertheless proceed onward.

Time passed, and between cram school, actual school, some clubs, eventually January 11th passed and you held an ice cream cake that Shouto loved. You ate the cake together, relaxing as you sat in the warmth of his kitchen.

“Happy birthday, Shoucchan, never change!” you chirp, shoving his arm that rose to place the piece of cake in his mouth with your shoulder and watched as the sweet pastry splattered on top of the table. “...um?”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“Only ten?! What about the happy birthday boy.”

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

An hour later, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and the sickly sweet weight of too much ice cream cake, you lay snuggled into Shouto’s side as the both of you watched some old movie.

“Thanks for always being here for me,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy as the heat of Shouto’s body began to lull you to sleep.

“I’m always here for you,” Shouto softly responded, hand gliding up and down the curve of your spine. “We should get you home. Your mom yelled and nearly skinned us both the last time you fell asleep here.”

“Only cuz she’s scared that we’ll have some sudden revelation we like each other and fuck each other’s brains out,” you groaned, absolutely not content with having to move. With your face buried in your hands now, you missed the weird pattern in Shouto’s chest over that.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“...fine, just because it’s your birthday.”

The next day, when Shouto followed Camie home instead of you, there was something that made you feel off as you waved at them goodbye. It wasn’t jealousy, that much you knew, but something worse when you watched the way your never-been-kissed-before best friend was ignorant to the dark eyes Camie sent his way.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure if you should be as surprised as you are when you get a phone call at ten p.m. to the sound of a confused, suppressed, overwhelmed voice of your best friend asking if you could confirm if Camie had fucked him. You then stayed on the phone for Shouto until well past two a.m., your heart hurting as he recounted the memory over and over again. You weren’t sure as to why your heart was breaking. By the sounds of it, Shouto had actually enjoyed it, but with every stammer to his voice, you felt lightyears away.

Most shockingly, however, was the effects this had on Shouto and his overall persona.

From ages four until fifteen, Todoroki Shouto was someone who was quiet, observant, took things a bit too literally, at all times was entirely precious in the way he interacted with people, and most importantly, unaware of the female population who lusted after him. It worked well for you because it was fun to tease him about things, nag him about how he was sixteen, and hadn’t been kissed even though if he asked any girl at school to kiss him, they definitely would. 

But sixteen-year-old Todoroki Shouto was a new shift, a new paradigm for you to learn. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident before, but now he emitted a sense of confidence that he was aware of, that everyone was aware of. He became mature, sophisticated, styled even. He was still at times quiet, always completely observant. He rarely took things literally and understood rhetoric and sarcasm and hyperboles. Long gone were the days of preciousness, and instead, there was a sense of a predator on the hunt that bled in the way that he talked to people. Most importantly, however, he was fully aware of the female population and precisely who was lusting after him.

He flirted with women and girls. You would find him leaning against the lockers talking with them, somehow trapping them despite not actually trapping them. A new girl was sitting at your table with him practically every week in high school, each girl asking for the hundredth millionth time that the both of you were not dating. Some girls were even bold enough to apologize to you for stealing your best friend — as if you wanted Shouto.

You had already seen his dick, thank you very much (although the last time you saw it was well before you were nine years old), you weren’t missing out on how it probably looked now! Honestly, you had no idea how Shouto never managed to run out of female students to fuck, the school wasn’t that large, and he seemed to go through a few a week sometimes.

But he was your best friend, your childhood friend, and no matter how many girls came crawling back to your lunch table, bawling to Shouto to take him back, soaking the fabric of your skirt to help convince him to take her back, you stayed. You stayed, accepting the fact that your best friend had become an awkward teenage boy and turned into some high school sex freak.

You stayed when his shaggy hairstyle was clipped and became short.

Overnight, just as he went from being a complete virgin to not one, he went from a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy to a leanly built eighteen-year-old hot-ass heartthrob womanizer.

High school wasn’t forever. Even though it took you about a year to accept and integrate Shouto’s new sex life and behavior into your daily lifestyle with him (he always left four of the three days open for you as all his relationships were casual only). Soon enough, the both of you relaxed and found your own relationship to be entirely the same, and when university exams and applications came about, it was decided that yet again, the both of you would follow each other anywhere.

Which is where you were now.

Tokyo University,  a third-year student, living in an upscale three-person apartment with your best friend, of course. Shouto plus someone who practically begged in the most unbegging way to live with you.

Todoroki Shouto and Shishikura Seiji in the same apartment as you made for an interesting combination.

You hadn’t wanted Shishikura Seiji as a roommate at all. Period. 

There were about eleven other people you only considered asking, but they all said no for their own reasons. Bakugou and Midoriya had found their own apartment closer to the University, and for much cheaper, Kirishima and Mina were RA’s and could not move in. Kaminari said he liked Sero’s couch too much to leave, and Sero couldn’t live in an apartment without a balcony. Momo said the room was too small, Jirou said she’d rather continue living with Momo, Uraraka said it was a tad bit too much for her to afford (to be fair, you didn’t have to pay because the Todoroki’s were paying for your housing, but you understood), Tsuyu and Hagakure said they were living at home. Iida said he would be too uncomfortable living with a couple.

Everyone you found on the street wouldn’t accept your offer. Hence, Shouto invited the meatball and rosé obsessed Shishikura Seiji to live with the two of you simply because he was Shouto’s lab partner in one of his advanced physics classes. Stupid chemical engineering nerd.

At twenty-one years, you can now say that you’ve entirely adjusted to Shouto’s womanizer ways. Too often do you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in your hand as you drink it in slowly, watching with much amusement as either a no-name girl leaves or a walk of shame Shouto enters. It happens at most five times a week; you were used to it. While the unease had finally left, you had to admit you were impressed your best friend could easily sleep around as he did and maintain his outstanding grades.

However, just because you were finally used to Shouto’s womanizer tendencies didn’t mean the world was. Even in University, your fellow students would ask with wide eyes and behind flat palms if the two of you were dating — specifically if Shouto was cheating on you or if it was an open relationship. You would each and every time, smile cheekily, shake your head and say with a roll of your eyes: “No, we’re not dating. He’s not cheating, and no, this is nothing more than us being best friends. Sho is too much of a jealous person to allow for an open relationship.”

Somehow, the constant begging of approval and the erasure of any romantic connection between you and Shouto from the plethora of female students at Tokyo University wasn’t even the most annoying part of it all. No, not at all.

What really ground your nerves was a pattern you noticed when you were eighteen.

Unlike Shouto, you hadn’t had the chance to lose your virginity until you were eighteen. Most of the boys who liked you always assumed you and Shouto were dating, the ones who gathered the courage to ask you out anyways were boys you were less than impressed with. By some act of some higher god, your crush — the school's third-year baseball team's captain when you were a first-year — reappeared in your life and asked you out. It wasn’t your best decision, you can fully admit it, but he was friendly and sweet as he fucked you in his small bed.

You hadn’t expected sex to be like that, and if you had enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but wonder just how Shouto was in bed to have girls behaving like that.

However, the spell was broken when he helped you change back into your clothes, and he begged you not to tell Shouto he was the person you cheated on him with.

It was on this day that it clicked.

What went for him, unfortunately, went for you too.

Except where girls rose to the challenge to dethrone you from Shouto’s side (a shame because they were vying for a seat that you had no claim over), the boys lowered their head like some damn omega to Shouto’s alpha.

Disgusting.

Even with the plentiful, plethora, consistent denial of your relationship with Shouto, even with the tally of girls, Shouto’s bedded (and more excitedly, deflowered — ugh!) rose consistently, no one ever really believed you weren’t dating him! Too many a time, you had been centimeters from making out with a guy for them to pull away, screeching that they couldn’t allow you to betray Shouto. The men who didn’t care were sleezebags, and thus, with a growl and a snarl, you found that you were only able to fuck men who thought jackhammering their fingers into your labia — yes, your labia — would make you cum.

You didn’t want to say you hated your childhood best friend for such duplicitous, selfish reasons… but you did.

But today was Saturday, a few months into the new second semester of the school year, and with school spirit once again high and workload low. The entire campus was brimming with parties, celebrations, alcohol drinking competition, sleazy dancing, and enough sexual tension to kill all celibate people.

So, we look back to where we started.

Shishikura Seiji running away as you nestled back against Shouto’s chest.

“I didn’t think he was actually going to drink these things,” Shouto sighed, spinning the last few remaining drinks of his rosé in his hand. “It’s been in the fridge for almost five months.”

“He probably made his meatballs again and needed something terrible to blame the flavor on,” you half joke half say in complete seriousness. You were not fond of Shishikura at all, and he was not fond of you either. He had a tendency to mansplain everything, which continuously ground on your nerves, especially when he had no jurisdiction to act so confidently.

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

“I feel sorta bad,” Shouto sighs, his hand low and warm on your waist. “But I will admit, these drinks are practically like carbonated water.”

“2% alcohol,” you stress, your grin widening as you pull away from his chest to stare at him. Your gaze is bright, and his eyes are filled with amusement. “You’re either the world's lightest lightweight or a child with no tolerance to actually expect to get drunk off this shit.”

“I think you’re slurring your words already though, you sure you’re okay, lightweight?” Shouto teases, his soft smirk teasing.

“Who was the one who took three shots and passed out?” you wonder innocently, finger to your chin as if you were trying to remember.

“At least I don’t throw up when I crossfade.”

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT. MY BIOLOGY JUST HAPPENS TO WORKS THAT WAY!”

“Alright, bitch,” Shouto snorts, completely unattractively, “hurry up and get ready, yeah? We have a party we’re already late to, and we have no drinks for an actual pregame.”

You squeal excitedly, having forgotten the massive party that was being held a few blocks away. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

Typically, when you went out partying, you went with the group of eleven people you would have rather replaced Shishikura as a roommate. To get ready for said parties, you would always find yourself at Momo’s place with an outfit change, makeup bag, and hair styling items. You had made it a tradition with the other girls to get ready together. The only exceptions to which this wouldn’t happen was when someone had a work event or some family thing come up.

In your case, you had been stuck at a professor's office, diligently helping to put together their research journal as they were in their final steps of publishing their findings. Due to your friendly relationship with your professor, the time had been lost, and your ten p.m. call time to arrive at Momo’s had been missed with a quick:

↳ held up at work! go on without me, sorry! see you at the party!!!!

When you crashed through the front door of your apartment, you froze, seeing Shouto in the hallway by the mirror. Sometime between getting his haircut to be shorter and from this day, he had begun to style his hair by threading it back by his fingers, and boy, it looked fucking good. He was already dressed up for the party. Black joggers, a white t-shirt that was a bit too small if the tight, seductive way it clung to his muscles spoke of anything, and a hoodie he had no care about in case he lost it after taking it off once getting there. Shouto was practically immune to all weather types, he could be in both snow or fire without a single worry, but he knew that a large sweatshirt that smelled like him was enough to hook and line any truly desperate female.

Shouto had chuckled, taking in your frazzled state with years of practice and nudged toward the fridge, already knowing that you had missed your pregaming with the girls.

“Shishikura has two rosés left. Grab ‘em, and we can pregame together.”

But that was all unimportant and already said.

In the end, it took you thirty minutes to get ready.

You had practically smeared on your makeup, hoping the warm, crazy miscoloring would be hidden within the crazy light show the party would definitely be displaying. Your outfit consisted of a tank top that exposed your cleavage and a skirt that hugged your legs and ass just right.

You came stumbling out of your room, fingers trying to shove on your earrings, the rings on your fingers clicking loudly against each other. You smiled breathily, gratefully accepting Shouto’s sweater as you slipped on your comfortable heels at the doorway before hurrying out.

Shouto kept an arm around your shoulder the entire way out, the immense heat of his body keeping you warm as his sweater rested lazily, awkwardly, around your shoulders and arms. You didn’t want to put it entirely on to save your makeup, and in case anyone had any fucking thing to say about the show you and Shouto were putting on. Eventually, the bright and comical conversation between you and Shouto began to grow louder as the pounding of dance music began to ring in your ears. Soon enough, you passed a few drunk people, more and more, until you reached the house where the party was.

Shoving the sweatshirt into Shouto’s chest, you grinned as the smell of alcohol, weed, over-cologne men and women, the faint smell of puke, and the gross crawl of BO flooded your nose.

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

Shouto laughs at your evident piqued excitement, and after he pulls on the light blue sweatshirt, he grabs your hand, and into the overcrowded home you go.

The intense heat of overcrowded bodies on a dance floor that also makes up a drinking game floor makes you grateful for your choice of clothes. Everyone around you is already drunk, sloshed, intoxicated off their ass as unknown drinks spill from their red Solo cups, sometimes even raining down on you. You grimace as Shouto continues to pull you through. You can taste the Hennesy on your upper lip and somehow know that whoever was drinking it was a freshman with a vendetta to kill his liver and love for drinking before coming of legal age.

“What do you want to drink?” Shouto yells over the nearly obnoxiously loud music. He has his sight on the drinks counter. “Mixed or the juice?”

“Fuck me up with the jungle juice!” you yell right back, pressing to his side as two dancing (see, vigorously dry-humping) nearly trample on top of you. “Parties are meant to be a non-sober event. I need to be borderline blacked out five hours ago!”

The agreeing chuckle from Shouto isn’t heard by you at all, but you can feel his chest give a familiar vibration as finally, he pulls you from the sea of bodies to where the floor is especially wet and sticky. You’ve reached the bar area.

Grabbing your own red Solo Cup, you watch as Shouto makes his own drink. Heavy on the alcohol, light on the mixer, and a good handful of ice (he’s always liked the cold better). His hand reaches for your cup and you offer your cup up as he opens up an ice chest filled with neon-colored jungle juice.

When the drink is returned to you, the both of you cheers and take a long drink.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

“You’re finally here, you fucking slut! Getcha fat ass over here now!”

Your neck is twisted to see the absolutely plastered group of girls you considered to be your closest friends, and you laugh loudly.

“Seems like I’m needed,” you yell at Shouto, trying your best to act nonchalantly as he smiles knowingly at you. “Text me about what you decide to do if we don’t see each other?”

“Of course,” he simply responds before placing the curve of his cup back onto his lip as hands grabbed your arms and whisked you away.

In a matter of sixty minutes, you all had played five drinking games.

The girls felt it was imperative to get you to their level right away, so they started off with a game of King’s Cup. Not only was the deck rigged against you — you pulled all four of the four cards and thus had to chug four times — but you had drawn the last King and drank some weird concoction of jungle juice, a tequila shot, a vodka shot, and whatever the fucking hell Mina was drinking. How you managed to chug that and stay on your feet was beyond you, but it was without saying that you had utterly and inevitably caught up with the girls.

After the King's Cup came the Flip Cup game, your team won thankfully due to Mina’s one flip wonder as Kaminari struggled to down the shot in the cup.

After Flip Cup came Smoke or Fire, a game that had Tsuyu stuck on the bus for a record-breaking one round. No one could believe she did that.

Then came a round of Shot Roulette to end with what you were currently doing now, using a drinking card game Momo had made in her spare time to do embarrassing things at random.

Five games in an hour… you questioned if there was by any chance illegal substances in the jungle juice because it had felt like a whopping two minutes.

“It’s midnight!” Hagakure hollered, stumbling backward as she grinned in drunken, stupid happiness. She giggled before singing, “Midnight… memoriessss~!”

Mina groaned at the reference but completely perked up as the dance music changed suddenly from its slightly mellow, good vibe song to none other than Everytime We Touch by Cascada. By tradition, by applicable law by all and every god, when this one song played, everyone needed to stop what they were doing and immediately head to the dance floor.

With your hand slightly sticky with alcohol, and your mind absolutely clouded with alcohol, you whooped loudly as Mina dragged you to the dancefloor. 

You, seven girls, formed a closed circle, your Solo cups sloshing over with alcohol, and your faces scrunched tight as you danced and sang as loudly as you could. Each pounding beat of music vibrated in your chest, each offkey note sung by the party-goers making you feel light, happy, dizzy, and oh so perfectly drunk. For just a split moment, you lock eyes with Shouto, who’s across the dance floor, his arms wrapped around some girl you don’t recognize, eyes drinking you in. You smile for a bit before turning back around, arms rocketing up to the air with your excitement.

Although the song ended, the DJ continued to play bangers, and you never once stopped in your mirthful dancing and grinding against your friends as the night continued to carry on. But when you spun out from Mina, your entire world spinning with it, a pair of warm, heavy, large hands rested on your waist, and you laughed.

“Who is this?” you ask, head slamming backward to try and look at the person who had caught you yet hadn’t tried grinding against you. “Oh, Inasa? Hi!”

Yoarashi Inasa was one of your University's well-known jocks. He was a skilled runner, one of the best Japan has ever seen despite his body type telling you he was a bodybuilder. Immediately your smile of idiotic stupor became intentful, seductive, still bordering extreme intoxication. Was Inasa your type? No, not really, but you could reasonably and accurately say that he was a handsome man, with a fantastic body, not to mention a pleasant personality.

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

“Hi, y/l/n,” Inasa said, his naturally loud voice easily picked up on despite the music being blasted in your ear. “How’s your night going?”

You lick your dry lips, eyes blinking a few times before you turn in his arms, your arms stretching so that you could wrap them around his neck. “Better now that you’re here,” you smile shyly. “How’s yours.”

“Ahem,” Inasa blushes, his eyes staring straight at your cleavage before looking back up at you. “H-Hoping to get better from here! Well, I’m sure it will be.”

“Oh?” you ask, your confidence building faster and faster as you press further against him. “Anything you have in mind?” —you press your thigh suggestively against the semi-hard spot against his jeans. — “Anyway... I can... help?”

Inasa groans deep in his chest, his head knocking backward at your implications, the pleasant vibrations passing on to you. You grin, fingers scraping against the bottom of his buzzcut and bringing him closer, praying for a kiss. But as he returns his head back down, his gaze leaves yours for a split second, and you watch in horror as a sobering look washes over him.

“Actually… you’re here with some random dude, right? I don’t want to step on his toes. I thought I saw you come in with some guy; sorry y/l/n, I can’t do this.”

And just as quickly as he was against you, he was gone.

It took everything in you not to screech bloody murder over the fact that you were once again left horny with no man to take responsibility for it.

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need. 

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied. 

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen. 

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical. 

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth. 

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue. 

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!” 

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider. 

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

-

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

[arcanadreams]

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?) 

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~” 

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams. 

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that. 

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way. 

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism. 

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?” 

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on. 

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be  careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process. 

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care. 

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet. 

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention. 

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram. 

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place. 

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly. 

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

[just-jordie-things]

Bite Me - Mike Wheeler

word count: 4052 warnings: swearing, unedited and poorly written summary: Mike has harbored a crush on (y/n) since the day they met.  And all it takes is a run-in with Billy Hargrove for him to lose his shit and let his feelings be known. (a/n): I just randomly felt the need to write for one of my best boys

___

(y/n) (y/l/n) was a sweet girl. If you asked anyone they’d tell you how kind she is, to everyone she meets.  From giving out homework answers when someone forgot, to sharing her lunch, she’d lend a hand no matter who you were.  She was a good person, and that’s why Mike was so in love with her.

He had been ever since she’d joined the Party, back in the fourth grade.  She’d been bringing in an extra juice box and snack for two weeks, just for Will, and the four boys agreed unanimously to offer her a spot in their group.  Mike can still remember the look on her face, the wide grin that showed off her recently lost tooth, and the way she’d giggled and agreed instantly.

They taught her D&D, she was invited into Will’s fort, and taken in by Joyce as one of her own.  She was truly one of them.

She didn’t look at him like everyone else did, it’s one of the first things he’d noticed about her, and he could see it every time their eyes met.  That annoyed expression that he was used to receiving -from peers, from his parents, even Nancy, even their friends- he’d grown so accustomed to it, until he’d met her.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Mike was shouting, about to lunge towards Steve, before (y/n) and Dustin grabbed his arms to yank him back.  “We can’t just stay here and-”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing!” Steve shouted back, shoving a scolding finger in the younger boy’s face.  “We’re staying here, so I can keep you dipshits safe!”

Steve rolled his eyes before spinning around to leave.  Nothing stressed him out like these kids.

“Come on, we’ll figure something else out” (y/n) said quietly, and tugged on Mike’s arm a little more.  

His glare softened when he turned to her.

She nods her head off to the side, prompting him to walk off with her.  He groaned, but he followed when she pulled him towards the living room.  Her hand didn’t let go of his wrist until they were away from everyone else.

“You know nothing you could say right now is gonna make me less pissed off-”

“I know,” (y/n) giggles before he can start ranting again.  “But maybe you can just take a breath and pretend to calm down?” She hums, and she laughs again.

Mike groans loudly, loud enough that everyone in the house could hear him, before he threw himself down onto the sofa.

(y/n) just shook her head, and sat next to him.

“Steve’s just trying to keep us safe, Mike,” She says, voice just as soft, but a bit more serious now.  “He’s not doing this to make you mad, you get that, right?”

He nods, but hangs his head in his hands.

“Are you… um… upset because El’s out there?” She asked unsurely.

She had a pretty good feeling that Mike had a crush on Eleven.  He was distraught when she left, and since she’d come back (a few hours ago) he’s been extremely on edge.  Hence the pouting right now.

“I guess,” He shrugged.  “I just- I want to just-”

“I know,” (y/n) murmurs again.  “I get it”

She admired Mike’s need to help, to get involved.  He was brave, if not a little reckless as well.  But there was something sweet about his extreme need to help.  Even though she was still convinced he was only wired this way because of his crush on Eleven.

Mike looked over to her, finding that loving look on her face.  His favorite expression -maybe even his favorite thing- and it somehow calmed him down a bit.  She smiled when he hadn’t started grumbling again.

“You good now?” She asked.

“Yeah,” He sighed.  “I’ll be fine”

She grinned, and poked his cheek affectionately before getting up from the couch.  

“I’m gonna get a glass of water and make sure Steve’s calmed down too,” She told him.  “Guess I’m the only sane one around here”

He laughed a bit as she left the room.

“Steve?” (y/n) called gently as she approached her older friend.

He turned to her, an unamused, and rather annoyed, look on his face.

“You alright?”

“I will be, once I’m in a retirement home and have restraining orders placed on all of you,” He answered, making the girl laugh.  “Your boyfriend calm down yet?” He asked, and her laughter stopped almost instantly.

Steve was chuckling now at how red her cheeks were turning.

“He’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, heard it before, pretended to believe it before, whatever,” He said, and (y/n) busied herself with getting a drink.  “Now’s as good a time as any to just, you know, confess.  You’re stuck here anyways”

“No I… I can’t um…” She shakes her head, staring down at the bottle of water she’d grabbed from the fridge.  “I can’t do that” She finished weakly.

Steve had known (y/n) for a few years now.  He’d met her the first night he’d hung out with Nancy in the Wheeler home, she’d been there with Mike coming up with a new character for D&D.  His first impression, as it was for all of the kids, was that she was a geek.  And she was, but she was a lot of other things too, and what stood out the most to him was her kindness.  She didn’t exactly fit in with the Party like the boys seemed to.  Not only because she was a girl, but because she was… friendly.

Mike wasn’t cruel to Steve by any means, but he was a snarky little shit that sometimes made Steve just want to-

“Why the hell do you like that little asshole so much anyways?”

(y/n) was still blushing as she shrugged her shoulders.

He’d picked up on her little crush one of the first times she’d met him.  He called her out on it right away too, luckily only Dustin had heard, and he’d laughed it off, thinking it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

“He’s such a piece of shit,” Steve said through a laugh, earning a pointed glare from (y/n).  “Obviously he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats, well, everyone else”

“No, he doesn’t,” (y/n) sighed lovingly.  

Her eyes glanced out to the living room, where Mike and Lucas were heatedly, and quietly, arguing.  She rolled her eyes at the sight, not that it surprised her.

“He’s very, um-”

“Sweet on you?” Steve supplied, earning another look, which quickly turned into a nervous smile.  “Yeah, that’s how I’d put it.  I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it.  He obviously has a little crush on you too,” Steve said, wagging his finger around in her face.  “Otherwise he wouldn’t be such a little gentleman towards you”

(y/n) didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to for Steve to know how she felt.  He’d always known.  She didn’t do a great job at hiding it, but her friends, and Mike for that matter, were oblivious.

They were interrupted by a bright light shining in through the windows, bright enough that she shielded her eyes as she wandered out to the large picture window.

“Who is that?” She asked, as everyone gathered around to figure out who could show up at the Byers’ house right now.

Their question was quickly answered.

“Sinclair!”

The angry, dangerous voice sent a shiver all the way down (y/n’s) spine, before an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.  Billy Hargrove was bad news, but him being here, right now, was even worse.

“Stay inside” Steve ordered, shoving the kids down underneath the window.

“I know you’re in there!” Billy screamed again from outside.

“Stay inside” Steve repeated, before walking out of the house.

“What the fuck does he think he’s gonna do?” Lucas asked, as everyone peeked their heads up just enough so they could see what was going on outside.

“He’s gonna fight him” Dustin said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

“He’ll lose,” Max mumbled.  All eyes turned to her, but her gaze was trained on her brother, afraid.  “He’ll kill him”

“He’ll be okay,” (y/n) whispered to her new friend.  “Steve’s a tough guy, and can throw a punch-”

“I’m not so sure he can take one, though” Max said.

(y/n) frowned, and set a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“We’ll be alright” She assured, even though she wasn’t certain what was going to happen.

Steve was now walking down to Billy, who was still yelling, but they couldn’t make out what exactly.

“What’s he saying?” Mike hissed, only to get shushed by Dustin, thus starting a ‘shh!’ war.

(y/n) only let it go on until Billy shoved Steve back by his shoulders.

“Boys!” She scolded, sitting up a little straighter as the fight outside escalated.

Just as she’d sat up, Mike grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back down.

“You want to get seen and murdered?” He whisper screamed.  She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her sweet smile.  His brow furrowed at her smile, but he wasn’t quick enough to say anything about it, as everyone’s attention was pulled back to the scene outside.

Billy had shoved Steve to the ground, and was racing up to the house now.  He locked eyes with the Party, who all quickly leaned down as low to the floor as they could get.

“Lucas, run!” Max screamed, shoving the boy to haul ass before her brother could storm in and get his hands on him.

When the door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall, Mike grabbed (y/n) by both arms and just about ripped them out of their sockets as he pulled her upwards with him to get her as far fucking away from Billy as possible.

“We have to help Lucas!” She tried telling him while he dragged her off to the other side of the house.  “Mike!” She shoved his hands off of her, and gave him a pleading look.  “This isn’t like you, come on, he needs our-”

“Where are you, Sinclair!? Come on out!”

She ran away from Mike before he could convince her to hide.

Finding Lucas shoved up against the wall, something in her clicked.  Billy’s significantly larger framed towered over the boy, who was clearly afraid, while Billy snarled nasty things right in his face.

“Why don’t you just fuck off?” She yelled at him, before thinking through the consequences of her actions.

Dustin and Mike stared at her in shock.  She didn’t curse much, so to hear the foul word come out in her voice was… pretty out of character.

Just as Billy whirled around, likely about to send one knockout punch to her face, Lucas took his moment of distraction to knee him right between the legs.  (y/n) squealed, both hands covering her mouth in surprise.

It was then that she took Mike’s advice to run back into the kitchen, and duck down behind the cabinets so she was out of sight.  

“You’re fucking dead!” Billy howled in pain, and while every bone in (y/n’s) body told her to cover her ears, close her eyes, and stay hidden, she peeked around the corner anyways.

“No,” A different voice, a calm voice, a familiar voice, spoke up.

(y/n) had never been so relieved to see Steve in her whole life.

“You are” He finished, and took a strong swing of his fist against Billy’s jaw.

The crack that resonated made her wince, and she shut her eyes only for a moment as illy toppled backwards.  He didn’t fall, and instead swung back at Steve, starting a very violent fistfight in the Byers’ kitchen.

“Come on, you gotta move” A pair of arms encircled her torso and helped her up from the ground.  

Mike’s hands were much more gentle with her now than they had been a few minutes ago, and this time she let him bring her out to the living room, away from the fight.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched Billy throw Steve around the kitchen effortlessly.  It was terrifying, she felt as though she was about to see him get killed.

When he landed a rather harsh punch, right under Steve’s chin, she cried out for him.

Steve crumbled to the ground, definitely knocked unconscious.  He looked dead, though, and as the thought crossed her mind, she felt it again.  The snap.  Like an instinct buried deep was just let loose.

“You motherfucking piece of shit!” She screamed in a way that Mike, or any of them, had ever heard before, and was charging at Billy in an instant.

It was a hasty decision, grabbing the beautiful vase of flowers off of Joyce Byers’ table and throwing it full force at the back of Billy’s head.

While his head was soaked, and definitely bleeding from the shards of glass, he still managed to stay standing, and was fuming with anger as he glared down at (y/n).

“You made a big mistake little girl” He growled, and began to stalk towards her in a threatening manner.

“Bite me” She snarled back at him, followed by the rash decision to spit on him.

“(y/n) what the hell are you-!?”

Mike’s warning was cut off when Billy reached her, and she kicked him with all the force she could right in the gut.  He grunted, but it hardly slowed him down.  All she could see was red as she kicked him again, and began to throw her fists against his chest.

She didn’t have an ‘oh fuck’ moment until he grabbed her wrists in his large hands, and kept his hold so firm that tears welled in her eyes from the pressure.

“I’m gonna fucing kill you, little girl” He snarled, teeth bared right in her face.

Oh, fuck.

She tried to yank her body backwards, out of his grip, but he was faster, and stronger, and bigger than her.  This resulted in her being thrown, no, slammed into the nearest wall.  She cried at the crack of her skull against it, but had no time to react as Billy’s fist was all she could see, before it struck her and knocked her out instantaneously.

She fell like a limp, broken thing, and even when Mike grabbed her and shook her by her shoulders, she remained unconscious.  It didn’t matter that Billy was still looking for blood, he pulled her into his lap and held her close against his chest.  He was living a delusion thinking he could protect either of them if Billy came back for more, but he didn’t care.  He was gonna keep her safe now.

Max had plunged the syringe into her brother’s neck, and was threatening him with Steve’s bat, but Mike hardly paid them any attention.

“(y/n), wake up, come on,” His voice was barely a mumble, and he hated to admit it but his throat was growing hot and tight with his tears choking him up.  “C-come on open your eyes” He stuttered.

He pushed her hair out of her face so that it wouldn’t get sticky from the blood running out of her nose.  He wiped away the red substance with his sleeve, not bothered by it at all.

“We’re going!” Lucas called, and rushed over to Mike to help him carry her.  “Dustin Will and Max are getting Steve in the back.  I’ll help you with her”

Mike didn’t have time to question anything Lucas had just said, and hastily went along with the plan.  They looped (y/n’s) arms over both of their shoulders, and made their way out to Billy’s car. ___

Everything.

Hurt.

It was the first thing that (y/n) was aware of when she came to.  Her legs, her arms, her torso, her head-

Oh shit my head hurts.

She groaned softly, reaching a shaky hand up to prod around her eye.  She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was definitely bruised.  The rest of her body had to have been bruised too.

She suddenly shot upward as the car went over a bump, and that’s when she realized she was even in a car.  Why was she in a car…?

Her head rolled against the seat, and she was met with someone’s shoulder against her cheek.  She winced at the pressure, probably because her cheek was bruised and bleeding.

“(y/n)?” A gentle, but distant voice called.  It sounded kind of hazy, like the person talking was miles away, and not right next to her.  “Hey, can you hear me?”

Her eyes met Mike’s round and worried brown ones, and a lazy smile tugged on the edges of her lips.  Even though his brow was furrowed, and there was a deep frown on his lips.

“What happened?” She asked, voice scratchy and quiet.

“What happened?” Mike repeated, much louder than he intended.  She flinched, and while an apologetic look swept over his face, he didn’t apologize.  “(y/n), you attacked Billy Hargrove” He told her in a grave tone.

“I did?” She asked proudly, her smile returning.

“No- don’t- jesus (y/n) what the hell are you on?” He asked.  “He almost killed you, I mean, look at you!”

“Can you please stop yelling dipshit?” Max called from the front.  “I’m trying to focus here!”

(y/n’s) eyes widened, and it dawned on her that Max was the one driving.  But just as she opened her mouth to protest being in the car right now, Mike continued on with his angry little rant.

“I mean, seriously, what the hell, (y/n/n)? Did you think you were gonna win? Did you really think that you were gonna take him down?”

Her brow crinkled and her eyes welled with tears, both from all the pain and his cruel words.

“Do you even realize that he could’ve killed you? Huh? I mean, I really thought he did for a second.  Do you even care?”

“What’s your problem right now?” The girl whimpered

“You are! You’re my problem,” He said, not thinking through the fact that she was crying right now.  “That was really stupid (y/n), really reckless”

“Oh, because you care so much about playing it safe,” She scoffed.

It was getting awkward for the others in the car, minus Steve, who was still knocked out.

“All you wanted to do tonight was to get out there- well- well here we are, Mike!” She shouted.  It hurt her head to yell, and Max was yelling again too, but she drowned it out.  “Hope you’re freakin’ happy” She mumbled, holding her hands against the side of her head.

Mike sighed, and pulled her hands away from her face, staring at her seriously.

“(y/n)...” He said softly.  “I’m sorry it’s just…” He let out one more heavy breath to prepare himself before diving in.  “Look at yourself (y/n), you’re hurt and there’s- there’s nothing I can do about it”

(y/n’s) brow furrowed as she stared back at him.

“What do you mean?” She mumbled weakly.

“I mean I- you… I have to… ugh” He groaned, clearly frustrated by his inability to form a coherent thought.

“You have to… what?” She hummed, face leaning around his shoulder tiredly.  

They were close enough that their whispers were only heard by them.  And somehow, it felt like they were the only people in the car.

“Mike?” She whispered when he hadn’t said anything yet.

His eyes flickered over her battered face.  The black eye, her split lip, her bruised and cut cheek, his heart broke looking at how much pain she must be in right now.  He couldn’t believe he let this happen.

“...protect you” He answered lamely.

“Protect me?” She repeats, soft, and loving.  “From what?”

“Apparently everything from interdimensional monsters to senior year bullies” He said, making her laugh softly.

“You don’t have to do that,” She said with a small shake of her head.  “I’m alright, I will be anyways.  You don’t have to worry so much about me-”

“See I do though- you- you make it impossible not to worry.  I’m just always- I’m a mess, okay?”

She giggled again, and rose a brow.

“I’m not following…you sound kinda crazy Mike-”

“I love you, okay?” He told her.

She choked.

“And I just need you to not get yourself hurt… okay?”

She’d never heard him speak so quietly, so nervously.

“You- you’re- um-”

“No more fighting people- and-and things- bigger than you, deal?”

His hands cupped around her face, thumb stroking over the bruise on her cheekbone in a comforting sort of way.  She swore she was melting into his touch, for a moment she forgot all about the agony her body was in.

She didn’t think twice about leaning off his shoulder so she could reach up and plant her lips against his.  It’s a gentle kiss, because her lips are sore and she was a bit nervous.  

Mike’s eyes widened, and he was sure this wasn’t real.  No, it couldn’t be real, there was no way (y/n) was kissing him.  Maybe he was the one that got knocked out? And this is all some kind of twisted nightmare-dream?

But it was real, she was kissing him.  And it was… wow it was great.

She’d almost pulled away, but he pulled her right back in, and shut his eyes to kiss her properly this time.

If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to just take her and pour every ounce of love he had for her into this kiss, but it would probably only hurt her more.

They were cut off by a low whistle, and (y/n) turned to see Steve, who had apparently been sat next to her this whole time, and Dustin, who was sat on his other side, both giving the pair very different looks.

Despite his face looking just as messed up as hers, Steve pulled a sly grin, and winked.

Dustin, however, looked like he might vomit.

“What.  The.  Fuck!?” His voice cracked when he screamed, making both (y/n) and Mike jump a bit in their seat.  “You guys have been- been- hooking up this whole time!?”

“What? No!” (y/n) argued back, shaking her head and trying to kill the idea in Dustin’s head before it escalated, but it seemed to be too late for that.  

“You have! You’ve been frenching!”

“Oh my god,” Mike rolled his eyes.  “Dustin, shut up”

“Can we save this argument for later, fellas?” Max hollered from the front.  “I don’t think that this is the most important thing going on-”

“W-wait a- wait a minute- wait a-!” Steve’s eyes widened as he started to panic.  “No! No way! Stop the car right now! Who let her drive-!?”

His screaming was abruptly cut off by the car swerving, causing everyone to scream now.

“Drive on the right side of the road! Jesus Christ we’re all gonna die!”

(y/n) wrapped both arms around Mike, one behind his neck and the other around his torso, keeping her secure.  In case this car were to crash, her seatbelt, and Mike, would anchor her in place.  Well, she hoped it would anyways.

He reacted quickly, embracing her tightly.

“I’ve been thinking I would get killed by a demogorgon,” She mumbled to him.  “Guess it’ll just be a plain old car crash that takes me out”  

He chuckled, but shook his head at her.

“No one’s dying, we had a deal”

She glanced up at him, a sweet smile on her lips.  And she waited for him to look back down at her to say anything.

“I love you too” She hummed, just soft enough that Dustin (luckily) couldn’t hear.

The smile that grew on Mike’s face was brighter than she’d ever seen from him before.  (y/n) was so relieved that her feelings were returned, that she felt she could go back to sleep, if she wasn’t getting nervous all over again about what was going to happen.

All they had to do now was to kill a monster and save their friends.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[pink-apollo]

I’m not sure if you’re still in the mood for Adler asks but I just got into Cold War and I have a lot of love/hate feelings about him 😄 He’s mysterious and such a complex character. So I was wondering if you had any general headcanons about him and/or headcanons about what he would be like when he knows he likes someone or like how he is early in a relationship? If that makes sense? I have trouble picturing him like that so I was wondering what your thoughts were! (Or if you want to write anything Adler related that’s fine with me 🤗💖) thanks! and have a lovely day!

Honestly anon I wasn’t sure if I liked Adler at first, I really wasn‘t. However, once I made up my mind, I was done for. I‘m such a simp for him.😂🤚🏻I’m sorry this took a while, I was just stressed with applying to college and getting in

When I say I could have kept going, I could’ve😭 I hope you enjoy anon💕

Dating Adler Headcanons

💙Adler was never one to openly speak about what he feels. Rather be behind the scenes and watch from a far and admire. Of course he may had have a tiny crush, but it was rather rough after his divorce. Thinking he wouldn't be able to find someone to love him for who he was, that including his trauma and facial scars. The scar part didn’t bother him, but the emotional side did

💙So when you decided to show some interest in our dear boy, to say he was surprised was quite an understatement. competly caught off guard but played it cool as you handed him a cup of coffee before leaving him wondering what‘s going on. A joke? No. He knows you better than that.

💙Late at night he would be staring at the ceiling wondering what you saw in him. He’s done so much and been through so much, so why are you staying around and flirting with him? His heart swelled and knew he was done for. It’s been a long long time since he‘s has that feeling. But it didn’t feel so foreign like he thought it would

💙He’d let you continue your shanties and smile, his shades hiding what he was feeling deep down, it was like he couldn’t resist you being around him. So happy, making sure he had what he need, and just over all adoring. It was like he was trying to keep himself ”busy” but never missed a chance when you asked if he needed anything

💙So regular coffee runs would happen, maybe grabbing a few papers for him, or a lighter so he could smoke. Just anything in the most subtle way to spend time with you because how unsure he was feeling

💙He thinks he’s being sneaky but gets caught staring at you. He can’t help but see how lovely you look regardless of what you wear😌 Adlers mind was just so preoccupied with you that at times he forgot to speak when spoken too

💙You would have to make the first official move on Adler. It’s not that he’s not brave enough, but wasn’t sure how you felt and didn’t want to make it awkward during work. So after a few weeks of this you would invitee out somewhere, nothing to special but yet a place where it was comfortable and place for chatting like a coffee shop

💙SHOOK when you reach out to hold his hand. Of course he holds yours in return but quickly puts the coffe cup near his lips so he didn't have to say anything. Not that he needed to anyway. Hearing you admit how much you liked him for a while made him chuckle in response at how open you were being and trusting with him

💙It felt like a now or never moment as you waited for his response, lips slightly parted, eyes staring at him with pupils slowly dilating. He somewhat leaned over the small table and placed his lips on yours. Just like Adler. Always let his actions speak for himself when he can’t quite place them into words

💙Adler is an old fashioned fellow. Flowers, ladies first, perhaps date night every Friday? He felt like his high school self once more and was happy as he could be. It just felt so natural and he didn’t have to hide

💙Sure some days are harder then others, every couple deals with them. But always tried to remember it was you guys together vs the problem than one another. Adler is a very calm and non problematic partner overall. Hardly any fights and if there was? He would wait till the both of you cooled off and apologize. He would never let an issue go until it was resolved

💙Within the years of being together, Adler begins to be more open within the time spent together of the things he’s been through, personal or not. Layers come off and seeing the real Adler was a nice change. No walls to hide behind

💙He adores when you gently hold his face and pepper him in kisses saying how handsome he looks as one hand placed his shades on his head so you could see his blue eyes. A big ol smile will creep onto his face and he’ll reach out to grab you and place you on his lap, letting you continue what you were once doing

💙Waking up to you tracing his face is one of his favorite things in the world. That early morning feeling where it still feels like a dream, everything just feels right and no worries in sight. Loves how gentle your touch is, almost like a feather to where he can barley feel it. He cannot help but to lean into it, hearing you giggle and just lay yourself on top of him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck

💙Is a private man. The occasional teases come from park and lazar but that’s to be expected. Sims smiles but keeps to himself about the relationship. Sure he might hold your hand or give a quick kiss on the head, but that’s as far as he’ll go. He’d rather keep the cuddling and longer kisses behind closed doors

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Daddy Issues | Draco Malfoy

Wow I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disappear like that Lovelies! Sometimes I forget depression and writers block are a thing until they punch me in the face and force me to go MIA for a hundred years! I guess I’m back? I hope? Fingers crossed? Anyway, I’m sorry this isn’t a TVD fic but I figured Y’all would appreciate something over nothing. I missed you all more than I can say! I hope you enjoy, I love you all!

Description: Draco and y/n are best friends until Draco’s father threatens y/n. She avoids Draco until he confronts her.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: Like none, it’s kinda sad but not really, the only flaw is bad writing

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

(not my gif, I just love it lol)

Your heart stings from across the courtyard, the gap between you and the blonde boy tangible. For a second you don't know whether or not your heart is even in your chest anymore or if it’s in his hands. In that case your heart is sitting on a bench, sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Vincent Crabbe. Maybe he isn’t holding your heart, though, maybe he is your heart, in which case you’re avoiding your heart’s piercing gaze. 

Your hands twitch at your sides, itching to grab his or to twist through his silky hair or do anything other than lay idle when he is only mere steps away from you. Your hands ache to touch him and usually you would be doing just that: clinging to his robes or twisting the rings around on his fingers or simply tangling your own fingers with his slender ones. Your hands feel painfully empty without him to hold on to. 

That makes sense though, he’s your best friend after all. You’re rarely ever spotted less than five feet away from each other. Everyone at Hogwarts can see how utterly entwined you are, every part of him wrapped around your finger and every part of you sitting precisely in the palm of his hand. You orbit each other, drawn in by a gravity that the rest of the student body can’t deny.

Right now, though, that gravity is being tested and everyone feels a little bit like they’re floating away. 

Draco sits exactly seventeen feet and four inches away from you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, like lasers, searing into your black and gold jumper and refusing to look away. It burns but you embrace it, taking any contact, even imagined, that you can get from him. Even if it hurts. You would gladly burn for the blonde Slytherin if it made him happy. This doesn’t make him happy, though, being ignored by the girl that commands his entire life. You know that, but you also know that it’s for the best. 

You run your hands through your hair, tugging on the strands relentlessly and closing your eyes. You see his father, the tall, grim man, and replay the conversation you had in your head. 

“He has a bright future ahead of him, y/n.” 

Lucious had backed you into a corner, both metaphorically and literally, the stone of the castle biting harshly into your skin, “I know that, sir.”

He stood tall, menacingly, like he was bigger than the castle itself, “he doesn’t have time for nonsense, y/n.”

Your hands trembled, the cold of the dungeon nipping at them fiercely, “he’s very bright, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think I’m slowing him down.”

The neutral, if not cold, expression on his face switched then to one of red hot anger, “did I ask what you think? It’s time the two of you separate. He is to be married next year and not to some silly Hufflepuff girl.”

“We’re just friends, sir,” your eyes had long since found the floor.

“Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. If I catch you near him from this day on I will not hesitate to destroy you, do you understand me? Do not speak to him again.”

That was two weeks ago and you haven’t dared to go near him since, spending every waking moment of your spare time in the Hufflepuff common room. You aren’t brave, you didn’t march up to your best friend and tell him that his father threatened to destroy you. You would be lying if you said you even thought about it. The reality of it is that you’re a coward and have iced Draco out in fear of having his father hurt either of you.  

His father’s words still ring in your head. Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. Your heart flutters hard in your chest, your rib cage the only barrier keeping it from finding him across the courtyard. Draco is infatuated with you. Apparently. He hasn’t said so, only his father. Still, you can’t help but hope that it’s true.

But then that makes your chest burn and palms sting again. You aren’t allowed to hope that Draco wants you. You aren’t even allowed to hope that he wants to be your friend. You’re not allowed anywhere near him, let alone allowed to kiss him. Would he even kiss you? Probably not. You tug even harder on your hair, as if pulling each strand out will somehow take the pain away. Don’t be daft.

“Y/n,” gentle hands wrap around your tight fists, “you’re hurting yourself.”

You forgot Luna was there, sitting next to you on the bench, the bench that is seventeen feet and four inches away from Draco. You let the airy Ravenclaw unravel your fingers and hold one of your hands, rubbing circles on the back of your palm. It doesn’t feel the same, her grip is too soft, her fingers too short. Draco’s fingers are longer. 

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of him from your senses, “sorry, I know I’m not the best company right now.”

Luna only smiles at you and rolls her eyes gently, “I know it’s hard for you right now.”

Of course you told her. You weren’t able to tell Draco so you turned to Luna, your other best friend. You nod your head at the blonde girl, too tired to speak. 

“I think you should tell him though, he looks bloody miserable without you,” your eyes widen as if on their own accord.

You feel dizzy at the thought and not the good kind like when Draco spins you around. No, this is the bad kind of ‘I’m definitely going to throw up’ dizzy. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears rapidly. Thump, thump, thump. It almost sounds like footsteps, angry ones, pounding towards you. That can’t be right.

“I can’t tell him, Luna, you know that.”

A hand lands on your shoulder, warmth spreading through your jumper. You open your mouth, ready to thank Luna for relentlessly comforting you, but close it quickly when a thought hits you. You glance down to your lap, just to double check. There, on your lap rests your hand carefully wrapped up in both of Luna’s. Crap. 

“What can’t you tell me?” It takes everything in you to not let his familiar voice curl around you and pull you further into his touch.

You shift out of his hold, not turning to look at him yet, afraid to see the expression on his face. Would it be anger? Sadness? Disgust? The last one makes your heart drop, the thought of the blonde boy being repulsed by you causing you to curl into yourself slightly. You would take anything from him but that.

You stand curtly, turning to face Draco, all too aware of the lack of space between you and him. Six inches at the most, every breath he takes makes his chest brush yours. You still don’t look up at him, not anywhere ready to meet the eyes of the boy you’ve been avoiding. 

You lock your eyes on his silver and green tie, mumbling to it instead of him, “What makes you think I was talking about you, Draco?”

You finally glance up at him and wish you hadn’t. His eyes, usually a bright blue, are dull and rimmed with red. The bruises under his eyes stand out against his cheeks. He’s always had dark circles but this is extreme. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, like he hasn’t eaten in days. It’s almost garish, but then again nothing could ever make the Slytherin Prince look anything less than perfect. He looks destroyed, almost as if his father had gotten to him too. You have to stop yourself from reaching out, choosing instead to look away again.

“Are you serious right now? Tell me this is all a joke y/n!” The courtyard goes silent when Draco raises his voice.

You squeeze your fists, the tone of his voice a punch in the gut. He never shouts at you. Draco is never anything but soft around you. Right now, however, he’s seething. No one around you dares to make a sound.

You close your eyes, trying desperately to stop a traitorous flood of tears, “Draco, please don’t do this right now.”

Draco takes a step back, as if your words had shoved him, “if not now then when? You’ve given me no choice! You run every time you see me, you don’t answer my notes. Do you even read them anymore? Can you just explain why you bloody hate me?”

His voice cracks when he says hate, like its acid in his mouth. In any way it’s acid to your ears. You could never hate Draco, it’s very much the opposite actually. You’re painfully in love with him.

“I don’t,” you have to pause to clear your throat, trying to rid the lump, “I could never hate you.”

His hand grasps you chin gently, his rings cold against your skin as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes, “then tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You squeeze your eyes close, sinking into the warmth of his palm for a moment. You can’t remember a time you’ve gone this long without the blonde boy touching you. You can’t stop the tears from trailing down your cheeks and into his palm. You can feel the hitch in his breath as if it had come from your own lungs. You wrap your own hands around his, squeezing his fingers gently before pulling them away from you.

“I can’t, Dra. We can’t do this anymore. I’m,” your voice trembles, your eyes still closed, his hand still locked in yours, “I’m not good for you. We can’t be friends.”

You release his hand, taking a few steps back from the love of your life. This time, though, he doesn’t let you get as far, taking two steps towards you for every step you take away from him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s in front of you again, closer and even more determined. His eyes burn into yours, his hands restless. You know he wants to touch you. At least, you hope he does. You want to.

“Don’t say that,” there’s a strength behind his words, one you have yet to hear until now, “don’t you dare say that! Tell me what’s going on y/n, you need to tell me! I can fix it. I can make it better whatever it is just please tell me. Please, love.”

Love. That’s new. Your heart cracks even more when he says it and maybe that’s because you know you won’t get to hear it again. You wish you could grab the word from his lips and hold on to it. You want to put it in your pocket so at least you can have a part of him, the very best part of him, for when he walked away. But you can’t, so there’s no use in trying. 

“You can’t fix it this time, Draco,” you take another step back and your back hits the rough surface of a tree.

He fills the space between the two of you once more and this time you’re stuck. Your palms continue to sting, reminding you relentlessly how much you need to touch him. You scrunch the hem of your jumper, trying desperately to quell the pain. Your wrists feel like they’re on fire, something you’ve come to realise that means you’re about to have a panic attack. He can't see that happen, you refuse to fall apart in front of him. 

Of course he notices, though. That’s your Draco, he notices everything about you. That’s his job. 

He grabs your face again, stopping you from frantically looking everywhere but him, “of course I can. When have I not fixed your problems? Remember when those Ravenclaws’ were messing with you? I took care of that, didn’t I? And Parkinson? Zabini? I took care of them too. Remember when Snape wouldn’t let you hand in your assignment because you had the flu? And the time you passed out in the stairwell? I fixed those too because I can. Because I wanted to and I do what I want. Now, all I’ve wanted for days is you so if someone said something to you I need you to tell me so I can sort them out and get my best friend back. Now.”

He stares into your eyes the entire time, daring you to turn away. You feel like you can’t breathe, your hands once again wrapped around his but this time clinging for dear life. You’ve been terrified for two weeks and the exhaustion hits you in one, whopping punch to your stomach, the second punch of the day. Without warning your legs give out, all of your weight falling into the blonde who seems to expect it. His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest for the first time in what feels like ages.

You don’t realise that you’re sobbing until you try to speak, “Dra, I’m so scared. I’m tired,” you grip his robes in your fists, your head falling against his chest, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m falling apart.”

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against him. You can feel the sigh of relief he releases and his heartbeat slowing as if it’s your own. Maybe that’s because yours does the same. For the first time in weeks you’re engulfed in Draco and you cling to him, circling your arms around his waist and pulling yourself impossibly close. He wastes no time either, wrapping his cloak around you and burying his face in your neck. 

Your body shakes furiously in his arms, everything you’ve been bottling up comes pouring out in a torrent of sobs and hiccups. Draco presses closer to you, towering over you and shielding you from the rest of the world. You let his peppermint scent engulf you completely,

“For Salazar’s sake y/n I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I need to fix it, love. Please tell me,” his voice is low and choked.

He’s right, you know he’s right. You squeeze your eyes tighter and grip his back, savouring the muscles under his dress shirt for a few more seconds before you know you’ll have to let go.

“Your father told me we couldn’t see each other anymore. He told me,” you pull out of his arms, leaning back against the tree, “he said, well, it doesn’t matter what he said. We just can’t be together.” Draco’s eyes widen and your cheeks heat up, your words ringing through your ears, “I mean we can’t be friends.”

Draco steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear but you���re almost positive that it’s a curse. When he opens his eyes, your heart stops. His blue eyes burn into yours, glassy and angry but with something else too, something hot and fierce. Your heart restarts when he places his arms against the tree, caging you between it and him. You can’t resist placing your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up as well.

“What did my father say, y/n.” He isn’t asking you, he’s telling you.

You lower your eyes, not bothering to fight him anymore, “he told me he would destroy me if I kept being friends with you. He said you were getting married and that you could never marry a Hufflepuff and that he would destroy me if he had to.”

He staggers back with each word, like each one shoves him more than the last. He squeezes his fists before straightening his fingers, shoving them once more through his hair. His shoulders are tense, his back straight. His eyes are screwed shut again. 

“Bloody hell,” he pulls at his hair, biting his lip, “he’s lost his damn mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, tugging at your jumper, suddenly hot all over. Now is not the time to be getting riled up over Draco but you can’t help it, he looks exquisite. Messy hair and an un-tucked shirt, the veins in his hand prominent and his rings glittering in the afternoon sun. He’s absolutely and undeniably perfect.

“It’s ok, Dra, you’ll be ok,” you try your best to comfort him but he snaps his eyes open, looking at you like you’ve gone mad as well.

“My dad threatened to kill you! No I am not okay!”

This time you walk to him, pulling him into your chest again and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sweeps his arms around your waist, pulling you so close that you have to stand on your tiptoes to keep your arms around him. His hands grasp your hips tight and you immediately know what he wants. You oblige, wanting it just as much if not more, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his stomach. You tuck your face into his neck this time, breathing in the slightest hint of apples, green ones. 

You don’t speak, practically feeling the words bubbling in his chest, “My dad told you he was going to kill you, love. He threatened you and he didn’t even tell me. I am definitely not okay. I need to do something. I need to talk to him. And he told you I was getting married? He’s lucky he isn’t here. I don’t care if he’s my father, nobody talks to my girl like that.”

He’s rambling, something he does when he’s at his end. His words wrap around you, tangling with every part of you and sinking into your skin. They lull you into a daze of sorts, almost nodding off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realise how tired you are until you’re in his arms, safe. And then it hits you, and you’re wide awake again.

“Your girl?”

You cut him off mid sentence, squeezing your legs tighter around him to bring his attention back to you.

“What did you say, love?” Draco hikes you further up his body, readjusting his grip on you.

Your cheeks flame, your neck hot. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something that you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give. His lips are so close to yours, his breath hitting your lips with every exhale. The courtyard around you fades away and Hogwarts itself holds its breath.

“Did you call me your girl, Draco?”

He doesn’t blush like you thought he would, “yes, I did. That’s what you are. Mine. And Merlin help my father for trying to take you away from me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, letting his words sink into your flesh. They curl around your bones, laying down a warmth that you’ve been craving for longer than you can remember. He’s right. Of course he’s right, he’s Draco. You are his and you always have been. His arm around your back tightens, jostling you enough to make you cling harder to him. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair. He leans his head back, giving in to your touch willingly. 

He holds your gaze as your fingers weave through his silky hair, capturing you with his eyes and refusing to let go, “I’m yours, Draco. Please don’t let me go.”

He leans his forehead against yours, “never, love.”

Hogwarts releases the breath it had been holding, the noise of the courtyard once more fluttering around you. You go to get down from Draco but he stops you, tightening his arms. You only shake your head and smile, letting the sunshine warm your face.

Your heart aches slightly still though, “what are we going to do about your father, Dra?

He starts walking, the sudden movement causing you to tug his hair a little harder.

His voice is strained when he finally answers, leaning down to rub his cheek against your head, “just let me handle that, ok?” 

You give in, for now, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes for the final time, “where are we going, Dra?”

“We, my love, are going to take a very much needed nap.” 

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hello, my request is for Niragi ✨ Y/N was popular in high school and always protect him when he was bully. When they saw each other in Bordeland, she saw how much he changed and keep her distance from him (which he hates), and she have an attitude that make one of the militants wants to attack her but Niragi protect her like she did with him bc he would never admit her but she's his only weakness

Yessss I’ve actually been wanting to write something for Niragi that sounds very similar so I’m glad you requested this! Thanks so much! 💕

You’re Everything You Once Hated | Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. The guys that bullied Niragi, Ann, Hatter, OC’s)

Summary: You and Niragi were best friends in high school. When you arrive in the Borderlands, you notice he’s not the person he used to be, causing you to avoid him. But unfortunately, he’s not happy about it.

Warnings: swearing, bullying, smoking, drinking, violence, threatening, bullet wounds, implications of sexual assault

Word Count: 7.1k

*reader is female

Niragi gif credit

4 Years Earlier…

The young boy grunted out in pain, having been hit with another rock right between his eyes. This one managed to crack his glasses, making his vision go all distorted.

His classmates around him roared with laughter. His heart filled with both anger and sorrow, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into the wind and out of his current situation.

“Aww, little Niragi has become quiet. Where’s those sarcastic remarks from earlier, they seemed to have left you,” his attacker mocked, adding a mean tone to his voice.

Just the usual. ‘Maybe they might end their target practice with me earlier today,’ he hoped.

He had grown used to it. He now expected to be dragged under the bridge each day on his way home from high school, being pushed around and roughed up. It’s not like he could’ve defended himself anyway. It was six guys against one, he never had a chance.

A short jab to the back of his neck broke him out of his thoughts. He groaned and doubled over, feeling as he was going to throw up. “Come on Niragi, fight back! It’s no fun when you just stand there,” the blonde student complained, striding over to the weakened boy. He gave him a quick kick to his side, making him fall on his hip harshly.

“Fuck off,” Niragi groaned under his breath, half hoping his tormentor didn’t hear it. But unfortunately, the small remark reached his ears.

“What was that? Did you just try to defend yourself? You’re going to have to use a lot more than just a few words you fucking loner,” the boy poked, giving Niragi another harsh kick to his stomach, making him become winded and choke on air.

He laid there taking their harsh words and hearing their mocking laughter ring in his ears. What did he ever do to deserve that?

“Hey Haru!”

The blonde turned his attention from his target to the direction of the voice that called his name. There you stood, by yourself with no one else. You obviously didn’t think the situation through before throwing yourself into it. You remained near the stairs that led down to below the bridge, holding something behind your back, but Haru seemed to not notice it.

Your heart skipped a beat when the group of high school boys all locked eyes with you, confused about what you were doing interrupting them.

“The fuck do you want Y/N?” the blonde, Haru, asked you in an annoyed tone.

You gulped before answering him, trying to sound as threatening as you could without your voice cracking. “Let him go! He’s done nothing to you, why are you giving him a hard time?” you spat at him, taking a few brave steps closer to the scene in front of you.

Niragi slightly lifted himself off the ground to look over at you. He recognized you from his social studies class. You both sat together at the back, and he always thought you were too nice for your own good.

Niragi sat up and shook his head, trying to warn you to stop what you were doing. He didn’t want to drag you into his own problems. He would’ve felt awful if you happened to get hurt while trying to help him.

Haru rolled his eyes and groaned at you. “Why are you getting involved? This is none of your business,” he retorted, walking closer to you with the baseball bat in hand. You watched with fearful eyes as he swung the bat around, obviously to threaten you.

Your heart quickened and you felt it pound against your ribcage dramatically. As Haru got closer and closer, you stood your ground bravely, still holding your hand behind your back to hide your weapon from him. You weren’t stupid enough to get yourself involved without having some kind of way to defend yourself.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or just stand and shake like the pathetic girl you are?” Haru tormented, a confident smirk growing across his face.

His comment made your blood boil. “Do you have a saviour complex or something? Why did you think you could help this son of a bitch?” he pressed, gesturing towards Niragi who was slowly rising to his feet with a worried expression on his face.

That was it. He was getting far too close to you for your own liking, so you decided that comment was the final straw. You rushed towards him and pulled out the large can of pepper spray from behind your back, aiming directly at his smug face.

He cried out in pain the moment the spray hit his eyes, dropping the baseball bat and covering his face with his hands. He tried desperately to rub the stinging liquid out of his eye with his school blazer sleeves, but it wasn’t worth the effort as it only made it worse.

You moved quickly and picked up the bat that he dropped, running past him towards the other boys that were still gathered around Niragi. They all held shocked expressions on their faces.

“You want some too?” you bluntly asked, thrusting the pepper spray towards them. They all flinched and stumbled to get away. You smiled, feeling empowered.

Haru and the others ran, thinking that beating up Niragi wasn’t worth being blinded for.

You turned towards the bloodied boy standing against the wall looking at you in shock. You glanced at him, giving him a friendly smile. He returned it.

After that, you two became inseparable for the rest of your high school days, spending every waking moment together. With your tough attitude and Niragi’s shy demeanour, you were a strange friendship to have been made. You thought you would always stay together, until one day Niragi went missing.

You never guessed where he may have ended up, until you were sent there yourself a few years later.

*************

You breathed in a huge gulp of oxygen as the black bag was harshly pulled off your head. You tried to wiggle your hands to shield your eyes from the blinding sunlight seeping through the windows but struggled as you saw that your hands were tied to the armrests on either side of you. You groaned in frustration.

As the curtains closed so you could see probably, you saw a young woman with short black hair dressed in blue shorts and a white button up that was tied at the waist. “Sorry,” she began. “I forgot to close that before removing the bag.”

You looked around at your surroundings. You noticed that there were several more people in the room. The room was large, stretching down further until it came to a stop at the end where a large wall stood, conveying a huge spray painting across it that consisted of every card from a deck of cards. Some were crossed out, while a few number cards and all face cards remained untouched.

You whipped your head around, feeling restless from the number of eyes staring at you. You don’t remember how you got into this situation. All you remember is walking to a large light in the distance from your position on a bridge, being curious as to how it seemed to be the only building with electricity. Before you knew it, someone had grabbed you by the shoulders and shoved something over your head, making your vision go black and suddenly passing out.

You moaned in pain as you felt the back of your head throbbed, probably from when they punched you to knock you out.

“What’s going on?” you asked, struggling in your restraints more, trying to break free. An older man with glasses scolded you. “Stay still, Hatter will be here soon.”

Just as he promised, two large doors on your left burst open, revealing a man with a long decorative robe and dark glasses on. He had two other men beside him, both holding revolver guns.

“Ah! A newcomer!” he exclaimed excitedly, taking a big sip from his drink.

You froze, watching as he strides into the room further, making himself comfortable on a table in the centre of the room.

“A few of my militants tell me they found you sneaking around nearby The Beach,” he accused, pointing his finger at you.

You stared at him; confusion written all over your face. Militants? The Beach? What was he talking about?

After you didn’t answer him for a moment, he let out a big sigh and jumped off the table onto his feet, beginning to talk himself.

He explained the current situation to you. About how the dynamic at The Beach worked, and that considering the number of high-level cards you had on your person, you seemed to be the perfect candidate to add to the ranks of everyone there.

“And remember, death to the traitors,” he said, spite filling his tone. He had listed off the three main rules to you, each one adding more dread for you.

“Okay, all good. But I just want to say. If you want people to help you collect cards, kidnapping them isn’t the best idea. If it hasn’t hit you yet, that would make people want to help you less,” you smartly said, trying to stop your lips pulling up into a smirk.

All the heads in the room turned to Hatter. No one has ever questioned his motives to his face before, especially a newcomer.

Except, he didn’t get angry like everyone expected. Instead, he chuckled and held his drink out towards you. “Cheers to that, I guess. Have fun!”

************

The Beach was a lot more crowded than you expected. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you walked down to the bottom floor to the pool. People were everywhere; dancing, swimming, drinking, talking, smoking. It honestly couldn’t have been more chaotic than it already was.

You spent most of the remainder of the day becoming familiar with the layout of the hotel. You found the room that you had been assigned to. You managed to score a room that was a little above average. Hatter decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and gift you a higher number due to your high number cards. He thought it was only fair.

You were sitting at a table nearby the bar. The sun had gone down but the party continued on through the chilly night air. You shivered, not being used to being dressed in a bathing suit twenty-four seven. You were annoyed that you weren’t even allowed to wear some sweatpants to bring you some kind of warmth. You guessed you would just have to grow used to feeling the cold on your skin.

The warm beverage slipped down your throat, bringing you at least a little bit of comfort. You had made yourself a coffee inside, not in the mood for alcohol just yet. You honestly didn’t like drinking without having anyone you trusted around you, just in case something was to happen.

You looked around the area, taking in everyone’s faces to see if anyone appeared friendly enough to be nice to you. You needed to make some allies before the next game, otherwise you would be the first they would sacrifice.

As you scanned the crowd, your gaze landed on a particular male, who was sitting in a more done up booth nearby the pool. He was wearing a black and white checkered shirt with black skinny jeans. He had several piercings in his face, making him seem more threatening.

You squinted your eyes. Why did he look so familiar? You swore you’ve seen him before.

You kept your gaze locked on him, watching as he communicated with the people sitting near him. You noticed that a huge sniper rifle was tucked behind him. He must have been a high-ranking militant, being able to carry a weapon like that around.

He suddenly flung his head back and let out a roar of laughter at something the guy next to him had said. You froze in your spot.

You could recognize that laugh anywhere. That loud, obnoxious laugh that used to come from your old friend Niragi from high school. Your best friend that randomly disappeared.

You blinked a few times before looking back at him. His facial features did match and the way he smiled seemed way too familiar to not be him.

How could he be here? Is this where he disappeared to a couple of years ago?

Your heart filled with joy and a wide grinned grew on your face. That had to be Niragi! Who else would it be?

You quickly stood to your feet, almost tripping on your chair in the process and began making your way towards his position.

Although, as you did so, another man approached him from behind, leaning over the seat and tapping his shoulder. Niragi turned with an angered scowl on his face, but it turned to a smirk once he heard what the man had to tell him.

You stopped in your tracks and watched as he leaped over the backrest of the couch suddenly, following the man with his rifle slung over his shoulders. They were headed to the door that led inside, so you quickly followed, wanting to reunite with your old friend from so long ago.

“Niragi!” you yelled out happily, trying to get his attention. A few heads turned at your voice around you, but he didn’t manage to hear you over the sound of the music blaring through the speakers.

“Niragi!” you tried again, but this time you were blocked by a few people in your way. A small crowd gathered in front of you, not noticing you trying to get past.

Niragi turned his head at the mention of his name but couldn’t see anyone calling his attention. He shrugged it off and kept following the man. He had told him that a young guy was causing some trouble inside one of the halls, so he was going to take care of it.

As you finally managed to force yourself through the small crowd that interrupted your path, you saw the Niragi and the man had already made it inside. You ran straight after them. You were feeling ecstatic, ready to throw your arms around him and give him the biggest hug ever to make up for all the days you’ve been apart.

As you quickly made your way inside, you caught a glance of his checkered shirt turning the corner a bit ahead of you. You moved your legs as quick as you could, trying to catch up.

You turned the corner, about to yell out to him again, but your voice got caught in your throat when the sight in front of you met your eyes.

“You really thought you could get away with this?!”

Niragi had a young boy pinned to the ground, pressing his boot against his upper back and shoving the barrel of his rifle against his skull violently. The boy below him was crying and begging for his mercy.

You had a small flashback to high school, when you saw Niragi’s main bully Haru shoving a baseball bat against the back of his head, him lying on the ground battered and bloodied.

It was the exact same scene. Only this time, Niragi was the tormentor himself.

“Niragi, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he cried desperately, clawing at the floor trying to get away.

Niragi lifted his other boot and stamped it down roughly onto the boy’s hand. You covered your mouth as you heard a few bones crack.

He leaned down closer to the boy’s face and lifted his head up his hair, making him whimper in pain. “If I ever see you stealing from one of the executives again, this rifle will go down your throat and I won’t hesitate to blow the back of your skull out,” he hissed, sticking out his tongue and revealing the ball piercing he had.

The boy nodded, leaning away from Niragi as best as he could.

The man who led Niragi to the scene tapped him on the shoulder. “Alright that’s enough. You don’t want to give him PTSD,” he said calmly.

Niragi let out an annoyed groan. “But I was just getting started with him!” he whined, letting the boy out from under his boot and watching as he scuttled away like a bug.

You couldn’t move. You stayed put as the boy pushed past you, accidentally smacking into your shoulder in the process. Your eyes remained wide, staring at the tall man with fear written across your face.

This was not the Niragi you knew. It was not the Niragi you defended from those bullies. This was not the Niragi that used to be your closest friend, possessing a shy and timid personality. No, that Niragi was dead now. This was a devil standing in front of you. Nothing but a violent jerk that struck fear in anyone that he came across. What happened to him?

Unfortunately, you took a little too long to gather your thoughts and before you knew it, a rough grip was on your shoulders shaking you out of your daydream. You flinched in a panic as you saw Niragi’s angered face appear in front of yours.

“What are you looking at? You want some too?” he growled, shoving the barrel of his gun against your temple. You froze, staring into his dark, evil eyes, not knowing what to do.

You watched in confusion as his hard and angry facial features softened, rage turning into surprise, and even concern.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, taking his hands off your shoulders and backing a way a bit in shock. You kept your eyes on him. You wanted nothing but for him to recognize you a few minutes before, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Y/N?!” he exclaimed suddenly, causing you to jump as his tone. A large smile grew on his face, only you viewed it as nothing but sinister and evil.

“Oh my god Y/N! Since when did you get here?!” he asked excitedly. He quickly moved towards you again and held his arms out to give you a hug, but you backed away and shook your head, making him frown.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me? It’s me! Niragi! Your best friend!”

You shook your head again, trying to get the message across that you didn’t want him near you. “Sorry Niragi,” you mumbled, trying hard to keep your tears in.

You quickly darted around the corner, making your way to the staircase to run to your room. You felt overwhelmed. After everything that happened today, finding out that your closest friend was now a murderer was the last thing you needed.

Your stomach dropped as you heard heavy footsteps following closely behind you.

“Wait Y/N! Please let me explain!” he tried to stop you, but you weren’t going to give him any time after that performance with the young boy.

“Piss off Niragi!” you yelled, climbing the stairs as fast as you could, trying to get away from him.

You turned onto the floor that your room was located on, sprinting down the hallway. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that Niragi wasn’t that far behind you. He had dropped his rifle, now trying to catch up to you empty handed.

You quickly busted through your door and immediately pressed your entire body weight on it. You silently cursed Hatter for not letting you have locks.

You heard him arrive in front of it, immediately trying to open it, but you stood your ground. He may have been tall, but there was nothing but skin and bones on him. He had no muscles to help him push through.

You held the door shut with your leg and reached for a chair to put against the handle so we wouldn’t be able to open it. You managed to secure it underneath the handle and stood back, watching as Niragi tried to open it again, but failing.

“Y/N please just let me in! Let me explain! I didn’t mean for you to see that!” he cried. You almost felt guilty, hearing as he started tearing up behind the door while still attempting to let himself in.

“Please Y/N! Let me in! I missed you!”

You covered your ears with your hands. You didn’t want to listen to his pleas, it would do nothing but make you feel bad for him.

That wasn’t Niragi outside your door, that was a cold-blooded killer that you wanted nothing to do with.

**************

The next few days you spend on alert around The Beach, looking around every corner for Niragi. As much as you’ve missed him the past few years, that event that occurred with the young boy obviously showed that he was no longer the nice and caring friend that you used to have. If anything, he now has become what he hated most in his high school days, a selfish and careless bully.

Who wants to be associated with someone like that? Not you.

Although even though you managed to avoid him in person, his name was brought up wherever you went. A few people would approach you during the day and warn you that Niragi was looking for you. It only would make your anxiety spike, causing you to scatter off to a more secluded place somewhere at The Beach. Most of the time you would hide in your room, but on the few occasions you climbed to the roof or hung around Alice and Usagi (who you had befriended), you managed to keep away from the psychopath.

One day, you were sitting out on one of the tables out by the pool. It was still quite early in the morning, so there wasn’t a lot of people around. The air was quite nippy, making you shiver against the cold breeze. You rubbed your arms up and down, trying to warm yourself up. Unfortunately, you hadn’t grown used to the ‘always wear bathers’ policy yet.

You felt a gentle hand lay itself on your shoulder, making your eyes widen and your head whip around to yell at whoever had dared to touch you, but you held in your harsh remark when your eyes met with Niragi’s.

“Finally! I found you!” he exclaimed, a sickening smile spreading across his face. You leant away from his touch, scooting your butt along the seat of the table, trying to make distance between the two of you.

Niragi obviously didn’t like this.

“Why are you avoiding me like I’m some kind of disease? I just want to talk to you! I haven’t seen you in years!” he said annoyed, taking a seat at the table.

You eyed his sniper rifle closely, watching as he placed it down on the table in front of him. You felt somewhat relieved that the barrel was pointing away from you. Who knew when he would decide to use that vicious weapon against you?

You blinked, not daring to say anything. You wanted to get out of the situation as soon as possible. It was unbearably uncomfortable.

“Sorry Niragi, I have to go,” you stated, standing up out of your seat and moving to turn away.

Niragi gripped the back of your hoodie and pulled you so you sat down again, making you yelp in surprise. “No, you don’t. Stop avoiding me,” he growled, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes tightly in discomfort. You swore you were so close you could hear his heart beating. With a short shove to the side, you got out of his grip and stood up again.

“No, I do. I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you,” you bluntly said, becoming agitated from his insistent behaviour. Why did he think he could just tell you what to do?

He frowned, standing up as well. “Fine then, I’ll just come too. I don’t care if you don’t want to talk to me. You don’t get a choice.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly started walking away from him, hoping to at least get a head-start to stay away from him. You heard him jog up to you as you kept walking, seeing his shadow appear right next to you.

You became more and more anxious the longer he followed you. He started to get a little too comfortable in his movements, even having the audacity to touch your hair and comment on how much it’s grown.

It got to a point where you had walked all the way to the lobby about three times, realizing that he wasn’t even focusing on where you were going. You turned around just as he was reaching to grab your hand, looking him in the eye with anger written all over your face.

“Can you not take a hint?! Leave me the fuck alone!” you yelled, watching as his face contorted into shock at your tone.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you Niragi! You’re fucking insane and sadistic! Has it not occurred to you that you’ve literally become the soul thing that you hated in high school?!” you sassed, anger ripping from your words and smacking him in the face.

The few people in the lobby turned their heads at the sound of your arguing, being curious due to not seeing anyone ever dare to yell such vulgar words towards Niragi.

He tucked his hand into his jeans pocket and readjusted the rifle on his shoulder, almost looking bored. “Yeah? And what would that be?” he asked, licking his bottom lip while staring at your menacingly.

You cringed as his movements. “A fucking asshole! A little bitch that preys on those weaker than him just so he can project his own hatred for himself onto them! You’re pathetic Niragi, and it’s a real shame that no one has in this shithole has told you so. Because no one knows you like I know you, and I know that on the inside, you hate yourself more than anyone could ever hate you.”

You took in a deep breath, regaining your strength. You suddenly saw the irony in your words. You accused Niragi of projecting his anger onto others when you just did it yourself.

Niragi rolled his eyes, bringing his rifle down off his shoulder and fiddling with the bullet canister. You felt your heart stop from his actions, being afraid that he was going to use it on you.

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me Y/N,” he laughed, glancing his eyes back up to you.

You grunted in annoyance. “Just leave me alone, please,” you begged, turning around and leaving Niragi to the peeping eyes still staring at you both.

He turned his head to everyone in the lobby. As he did so, everyone turned back to what they were doing, being afraid of being caught staring and yelled at by him.

“That’s right. Mind your own business,” he shouted out across the lobby to make sure everyone heard.

He watched you as you walked away, eventually turning the corner to go search for Alice and Usagi. At least they would give you some kind of security after what just happened.

He chuckled to himself, sticking his pierced tongue out and running it across his lips once again. “Just you wait Y/N, you’ll come running back to me soon enough. You can only keep that tough façade up for so long. Just wait until people find out that you’re all bark and no bite.”

************

You stumbled your way to the entrance of the hotel, head throbbing in pain and legs aching from the muscle strain you’ve put on them. You had arrived back from your game, being the only one that managed to survive. You didn’t feel well, both physically and emotionally, so you were planning on slipping into a coma for a few days to sleep off the pain that you were feeling at that moment.

It felt like a huge effort to even lift your feet. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so you weren’t even thinking of checking in on Alice or Usagi. You said to yourself you would look for them tomorrow. You were in too much of a bad mood to engage in conversation. You’d probably end up snapping at them, which wouldn’t be fair on them since they just completed a harsh game themselves.

As you were just about to enter through the large glass doors before a young militant woman with short blonde hair pushed through before you even had the chance. She managed to even knock your shoulder during the process, making you hiss in pain.

She looked you up and down with a disgusted expression on her face. “Watch where you’re going,” she spat before continuing walking inside.

You rolled your eyes. “Bitch,” you mumbled under your breath.

Her head quickly whipped around to meet your eye, an angered scowl on her face. “Excuse me?” she said in disbelief.

Your words got stuck in your throat. She wasn’t meant to have heard that. “I-I…”

“I-I..” she mocked you. You felt your adrenaline skyrocket. You’ve heard of this girl; she doesn’t take things lightly.

“Look I’m sorry, it just slipped out I promise,” you stammered out, putting your hands up in a surrender. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with her shit, you were grumpy and tired. You hoped she would let you off with just a warning.

But she had different plans.

She grabbed you by the back of your hoodie, dragging you outside again and brought you over to a small alleyway that ran along the side of the hotel. You struggled in her grip and protested the whole way.

Although, you stopped fighting against her when she shoved you against a brick wall and pulled a revolver out of her jacket pocket, pushing it underneath your chin. You froze and looked at her with pleading eyes, begging for her to have mercy.

“You’ve messed with the wrong person you bitch,” she growled, giving you a quick jab to the ribs. You yelped in pain, clutching your side. It hurt ten times more, considering you’ve already faced a horrific game that same night.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eye sockets.

She scoffed and smirked at you. “Wow, all bark and no bite huh?” she teased, throwing a kick to your shin, making you cry harder.

Her words angered you, making you see red for a short moment. You forgot about the revolver against your chin and gave her a quick punch to the jaw, making her head whip sideways.

She groaned, clutching her face and slowly turned back to you. You felt yourself fill with regret when you saw the look on her face. She looked like she was ready to kill you.

“Is that how you want it? Fine, have a hole in your foot. Maybe it’ll manage to get you and your attitude killed off in the next game,” she snarled.

Your stomach dropped at her words. Before you could even protest, she pulled away and aimed the gun towards the ground and blew a quick bullet in the top of your foot.

You cried out, kneeling and grasping your foot in your hands in pain, biting your tongue so you didn’t scream too loud. The pain of the bullet seeped from your foot and up your leg, spreading across your body.

The militant girl stood above you, laughing at your pathetic body lying on the ground. Your screams of pain brought her pleasure.

“Didn’t think this would happen when you bad mouthed me, didn’t you?!” she laughed, leaning down and pushing the gun against your head to threaten you more.

Another gunshot rang in your ears. For a moment you thought it was her and that she had put a bullet through your head, killing you. But then you heard a cry and saw the girl fall in the ground holding your shin with her head thrown back in a silent scream.

You were about to attempt to stand up to take this opportunity to run, but quickly jumped back down to the ground when another loud gunshot filled the air. You heard the bullet colliding with flesh as the girl flinched violently and cried out again.

You heard a menacing male laugh fill the air, and you glanced down the alleyway to see where it came from.

There stood Niragi, holding his sniper rifle out towards you both with smoke protruding from the barrel of it. A psychotic grin was painted across his face and you swore you saw his eyes shine red.

“Why are you giving my poor love a hard time?! Maybe think twice before you put a bullet through my property,” he exclaimed, chucking and walking up to the girl giving her a harsh kick to the ribs.

You felt like you were about to throw up and hearing some of her ribs crack from the collision of her chest to his boot did not help your nausea.

You rubbed your eyes and pressed your forehead against the ground. You wanted to wake up, like this was all some bad dream. Before you knew it, you were silently sobbing on the floor, tears rolling out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

You felt two arms wrap around you, lifting you off the cold stone floor and into a warm chest. You winced and whined as the bullet wound in your foot shot a searing pain through your leg. Niragi shushed you quietly.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered, placing his cheek on top of your head.

His behaviour was giving you whiplash. One second ago he was acting like a maniac, shooting holes through a young girl, but now he was carrying you by under your knees and your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck.

You were exhausted, your body not even listening to you. You tried to move your leg to force yourself out of his grip but didn’t even have the strength to lift it. Your head was throbbing, and you could’ve passed out easily in his arms, but forced yourself to stay awake.

As Niragi walked past the lobby to get to the medical room, he attracted a few worried faces. Some even stood up to walk over and ask if you were okay. Everyone was terrified he had bad intentions with you, knowing how he was.

He ignored the few that approached both of you, rushing down the hall to escape them. He had to get there quickly so Ann could treat your bullet wound.

When he arrived, he pushed through the door harshly and called out to Ann with a worried tone. She stopped what she was doing and turned to the door to see Niragi holding you close to him protectively, blood dripping into the ground from your shoe.

“Shit, bring her here.” She gestured towards an empty table in the middle of the room. Niragi rushed over and placed you gently on the metal table, letting you lean your upper body against him.

Ann brought over some large tweezers, a cloth, disinfectant and a bandage. You flinched at the sight of the tweezers, moving to get away from her. “No, no!” you begged, trying to crawl up the table to get away, but Niragi grabbed your waist and pinned you against his chest.

“We have to get the bullet out Y/N, we can’t just leave it in there!” he argued, brushing your hair out of your face to calm you down.

You struggled against his grip as Ann held down your foot and carefully removed your shoe and sock. You looked down and saw a small hole in the top of your foot. How could such a small injury cause so much pain?

“Alright Niragi, keep her still. This is going to hurt,” Ann said shallowly, picking up the tweezers to try and remove the bullet.

“Yep.” You felt his grip on you tighten and he tucked his chin on your head. “Please just keep still Y/N, I’m here. It’s okay,” he cooed. His reassuring words didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

Niragi turned your face so you were nuzzled into his chest. He knew that making you watch Ann take the bullet would do nothing but freak you out more, so he wanted to protect you from the sight.

You felt fine until the pain in your foot suddenly skyrocketed, making you let out a piercing scream. You bit your tongue to try and quieten yourself, but it didn’t do much.

Niragi frowned as he suddenly felt you go limp against him. He looked down at your face to see you had passed out, eyes shut tight and letting out soft breaths.

He smiled and brushed his fingers across your face. “So cute,” he mumbled.

“Well, that’s better. Maybe if we just knocked her out with a quick jab to the head, it would’ve saved us the headache of trying to keep her down,” Ann stated bluntly, causing Niragi to laugh.

“You know how this happened?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows.

“A bitch shot her just outside the hotel,” he said with an angry tone.

Ann didn’t seem surprised. Events like that occurred a lot. She had removed a lot of bullets the time she had been there.

“What happened to the girl? Did she run when she saw you?”

“I didn’t give her the chance to. She copped two bullets into her body for doing that to Y/N.”

“Did you think maybe Y/N was the one giving her a hard time?”

“Doesn’t matter. I only saw her shoot the bullet, nothing else.”

“Fair enough.”

***********

You cracked your eyes open to a room that most definitely wasn’t your own. You groaned and sat up, wincing when the pain in your foot shot through your leg. Memories of yesterday filled your head. “I must have passed out in the medical room,” you said to yourself.

You scanned the room. It was much bigger than yours. The bed you were in was three times the size of yours, and this room even had a huge balcony. As you looked around more, you noticed that a bag of your stuff was placed near the closet.

You frowned. Why was your stuff from your room here?

Suddenly the door opened to reveal Niragi, walking in with a plate of a bread roll and a bottle of water. He saw you awake and smiled.

“Aw little mouse is awake. How’s your foot?” he purred.

You cringed at the pet name. “What’s it to you, dickhead,” you growled, getting out of the bed and standing up. You were wearing the same clothes that you wore to the game yesterday, minus the shoes and the jacket.

Niragi smirked and placed the food on a small table in the centre of the room. “Have you forgotten who saved your pathetic ass yesterday?” he asked, approaching you. “And also, don’t stand on that foot. It’s injured, you have to rest it.” He pushed on your shoulder lightly to make you sit on the bed again. He sat himself next to you and leaned towards your face.

You moved away from his face, hating how close he was to you. “Yeah, but how did you know I even needed help? And don’t tell me you were just going on a short stroll through the alleyway at eleven at night,” you said, scooting up the bed and leaning your back against the wooden bedhead.

Niragi chuckled. “What if I was? Are you accusing me of stalking?” he suggested.

You shook your head. “Why is my stuff here,” you asked, changing the subject.

Niragi glanced over at the bag full of your stuff on the ground near the closet. He turned back to you with a smile on his face. “Oh yeah! I forgot to say, you’re moving in with me,” he said excitedly.

You felt your stomach drop. “What? I didn’t agree to this.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand again. You could only place pressure on one foot, so you stood on one leg.

“Oh, baby. I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re in here with me now, whether you like it or not,” he growled, reaching out towards you waiting for you to place your hand in his.

You stared at him, trying to see if he was joking or not. But from the serious look on his face, you didn’t think he was.

“I’m not staying in here with you. You’re a fucking psycho.”

You attempted to limp over to the door, wanting to escape Niragi as soon as possible. But you didn’t expect him to be so insistent on you staying.

A sudden arm around your waist spun your around and Niragi pinned you against the door, his face far too close to yours for it to be comfortable. “Did you not just hear me? You don’t get a choice love. You’re stuck with me,” he rasped into your face with a scary smile across his.

Your breath hitched and you turned your head away as he moved his face closer, trying to force his lips against yours. You felt helpless.

“Niragi please. Let me go, I’m sorry if I ever angered you,” you begged, pushing on his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “I promise if you let me go, we can go back to how we were in high school.” You were trying to do anything that would get him off you. Your heart was racing, and you were becoming more frightened by the second.

Niragi licked a long and slow stripe from your collar bone to the back of your ear. You cringed and sobbed at the feeling of his tongue and saliva on your skin. “Maybe I don’t want it like it was back then. Maybe I want more Y/N,” he whispered.

He tucked his face into your neck and nipped at your skin. He had your arms pinned either side of you and his leg was holding your good foot against the door. You couldn’t do anything to defend yourself.

“What have you become Niragi,” you sobbed after a short moment.

Niragi removed himself from your neck, leaning back to look at you. You stared into his eyes, seeing the same dark and beautiful orbs that used to make your heart race with love in high school, only now, they made your heart race with fear.

“I’ve become the real me Y/N, and you’re going to love me, whether you want to or not.”

[lily-drake]

Photograph

Based on

Thank you @johannaiii for letting me write this!!!! It was so much fun and it was a really good prompt!

Talia didn’t like the process of giving birth, in fact she loathed it.  She swore she would never, and she meant never do it again.  But when she was giving birth, and she found out that she was having twins, and she got to hold her children that she sacrificed and suffered for, she loved them.  When she learned that one of them was a girl, she knew that her father would be furious and demand her death.  So she immediately summoned one of the monks from the Tibetan temple that her father was allying with and gave them the girl.  She demanded that they train her and protect, and that she would never, ever be mentioned to Ra’s.  She even killed the nurses who helped her give birth to make sure that there was no one left who would know.  It wouldn’t be hard to find replacements for them anyways, it’s not like their lives were significant.  They had served out their use, now there was no need for them.  When it was time she presented her son, Damian, to her father claiming him to be the only child and heir to the Demon’s Head.  Ra’s was very pleased with her and she felt pride at being able to carry out her task properly that her father was very much pleased with her and her child.

Even though Marinette, as she had named the child before she had given her up, was no longer in the league, she made sure she was still in her daughter’s life.  Once every year she left for “training” purposes with Damian and went to the ancient temple in Tibet to visit her daughter and make sure that the two siblings got to spend time with each other.  Marinette was growing up so fast and the monks would report to her of her daughter’s progress.  They told her that Marinette was destined for greatness and to be a powerful leader, and that pleased Talia greatly.  The man in charge of her daughter's training, Master Wang Fu, would show her photos of her daughter and her accomplishments; she wished that she would be allowed to do the same for Damian.  But the League and the Temple of Order, while partners, were two separate entities when it came to how they were trained and taught.  She smiled as she saw her children sparing on the temple’s grounds, each assessing how strong the other had become since their last meeting a year ago.

They were both 6-years-old now, and Marinette had lost one of her top baby teeth.  She wore the traditional light blue training robes the monks wore while Damian wore his traditional black and red armor with his katana sheathed on his back.  She watched her children and a small smile graced her lips as she watched the two.  They were opposites in almost everything, yet they were still so similar.  Damian’s fighting was aggressive and forceful while Marinette’s focussed on out maneuvering and tiring out the opponent from a distance before striking where it hurt the most.  Their personalities were like fire and ice with Damian being aggressive and mighty while Marinette was soft and humble.  Damian was assertive and forceful in the way he spoke, while Marinette was gentle and descriptive.  Though, like she said before they had many similarities that helped to cement their relationship.  They both were very artistic, in battle they both would get up and personal with their challenger if given the opportunity, both were very intelligent and soaked everything up like a sponge, and both were highly competitive.  The sound of metal being hit together sounded from the training grounds as Damian and Marinette fought with their respective weapons; Damian with his katana and Marinette with her two daggers.

“You’ve definitely improved since the last visit, 'ukht, but so have I.”

Damian announced as he went in to sweep his sister’s legs all while bringing his blade down towards her.  Marinette used her daggers to lift Damian’s blade and flipped backwards as Damian tried to perform his strike.  She was very flexible and graceful when she was in the air.  It sometimes looked as if she were flying when she performed some of her stunts.

“Maybe you have, Xiōngdì, but I seem to still have the upper hand.”

Marinette replied with smugness dripping from her voice as her brother glared at her.  Marinette carefully crafted her words to manipulate while Damian spoke his mind and used his to order and command.  They were opposites, but they completed each other in a way few will ever know.

The day Damian and Talia were to begin their trek back down the mountain Fu ran up to Damian and placed a piece of paper in his hands.  He bowed respectfully to the old man and looked at the picture.  It was a picture the old man had taken a few days ago.  Marinette was smiling brightly and had her arm around his shoulder while he had his arms crossed in front of him and leaned into his sister’s touch with a small smirk.  They were both in their training clothes and stood in front of the mountains that hid and protected the Temple of Order.  He smiled at it and glanced at his sister who was waving goodbye with a big sad smile.  He simply nodded and left not knowing that this would be the last time he would for many years that he would lay eyes on her once again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Order, it was gone, destroyed!  Marinette felt tears rush down her face as she watched her friends and mentors perish in the flames of miraculous magic gone astray.  She could feel the cold wind passing by her as Master Fu dragged her away, but she couldn’t remove her gaze from her home that was falling into pieces.  What would Damian think, she had to leave something for him to let him know she was okay!  But she was never given the chance because she couldn’t pull away from her master.  They were the last ones left, and Marinette couldn’t wrap her mind around it at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian and Talia hiked the trial many months later, and as they neared the top they could sense something was definitely off.  The top of the temple would usually be in view by now. When they finally reached the top they froze as they saw the ruins of the burned and destroyed temple in front of them.  Talia was the first to break from her daze and ran to the ruins searching through them to find any remains of her daughter.  Damian soon joined his mother, but it was no use.  Damian and Talia believed the worst had happened to her, and with silent tears flowing down his face he stabbed his sword into the ground in front of the burnt remains and fell onto his knees in front of it.  The sword would serve as a gravestone for the fallen warriors here, but it specifically would serve as Marinette’s grave marker.  She was a brave warrior, one of the best, and she was gone now.  Talia stood by her son’s side and soon kneeled in front of it as well with her hand placed on her son’s shoulder.  As they traveled down the mountain Damian swore that he would never be vulnerable again, he would never care about anyone ever again, because the pain he felt was too intense and never wanted to feel it ever again.

So both He and Talia took on more missions, Talia was rarely at the base, always gone doing whatever her father needed.  The training in Tibet never happened again, and Damian grew closer to his grandfather.  He trained harder, attacked ruthlessly, and channeled all his pain and rage into his strikes.  He held onto the photo that Fu had given him of the two of them so many years ago.  He had it tucked away in a secret place in his room where no one would ever find it, because he wanted to keep her with him in some way.  Never again, he wouldn’t be hurt like before ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette lived with Master Fu in a tea parlor under the guise of Marin Fu.  She helped him run his parlor and distribute his charms to the people through the teas she brewed while he placed charms on people through the massage therapy he did.  Fu let her be home schooled as she already knew way more than any normal school could teach her.  She would just be repeating things when she could be learning more new material.  She was also taught how to better practice her magic and use the miraculous.  She was going to be the new guardian one day, she was going to be the last guardian one day, and that thought scared her and brought back all of the nightmares.  She locked that night and anything before the fire back up in her mind only remembering what she needed to when she needed to.

Fu wanted her to interact with people though, so with the money he made he sent her to a gymnastics class where she could still retain her skills and get better at them.  She honestly loved the classes and she felt so free when she did them.  Nobody could beat her, in fact she advanced to level 10 quickly and was well on her way to the elite by the time she was 13.  And that’s when Hawkmoth struck Paris.

Lady Rouge and her partner Chat Noir made a decent team, but he was nowhere near her skill level which often annoyed her.  He wasn’t a true black cat, her brother was.  He was her balanced counterpart, and this cat was just a stand in.  And as time went on the imbalance continued the boy became corrupted by the destructive energy of the ring.  She had continually told Master Fu about it, but he would not listen.  And then it was time for him to pass, and she became the grand guardian, the last grand guardian.  Tears fell down the young 15-year-olds face as she watched her mentor's spirit leave him in his peaceful slumber.  He was so old, and it was just his time for him to go, but now she had nowhere to go, but she knew what she had to do.

“Hello, M’lady.”

Chat Noir said in a flirty tone as he spun his staff as if the speed he was doing it at would impress her.

“Hello, Chat.”

She replied terse with her arms crossed in front of her as she leaned on the railing of the Eiffel Tower and gazed at the sky that held little stars due to all of the lights of the city below them.

“Are you not excited to see your soulmate?  Come on M’lady,”

He said grabbing one of her hands with a large smile and deep voice,

“let me take you out somewhere, just the two of us.”

It took everything in Marinette not to break his wrist in that moment, but she had to play along.

“Okay.”

Chat’s eyes widened and his leather tail began to move side to side in an excited manner.

“W-wait, really?!”

“You know what, ya.  This week has been really tough and I could use it.”

Chat’s smile turned into a smirk and a dark twinkle lit up his eyes.  He took a step back and held his hand, his ringed hand, out for her to take.  SHe smiled at him gently and innocently and took his hand, and as he was about to pull her forward she took hold of the rings and ripped her hand off, taking the ring with her.  There was a blonde boy with green eyes staring at her with shock and hurt written all over his face, then eventually anger.

“I am revoking you from being able to wield the Black Cat Miraculous.  You are not compatible to wield this power as you are not my balanced counterpart.  The ring has been corrupting and harming you after all of your exposure to it when you are not the right one to wear it while I hold the earrings.  Thank you for the help you have given me in the past, but I’m afraid that I can not risk hurting you any longer.”

The boy stared at her with wide shocked eyes and nodded.  She could see that he too had now noticed the change as with the ring it didn’t feel like he changed at all.  She helped him get to his house and left after shaking his hand and thanking him one last time for his help.  And as she was about to leave the property she heard the sound of something above her opening and through the now open window she saw an akuma flying out of it.

She quickly caught the akuma and crashed through the glass window into the dark room.  Before Hawkmoth could even realize what had happened she had tied him up in her yo-yo and he was pinned in place with the tight cord.  If she pulled it any tighter it would cut into his skin and draw blood.  She grabbed the broach from the middle of the suit --which was as hideous as his akuma designs, if not worse-- and watched the man detransform making sure the camera on her yo-yo recorded the whole thing.

“You will be subject to the curse of whatever your abused kwami sees fit for you, and then the people of Paris will have you.”

Was all she said as she brought the man onto his knees so he could properly respect the kwami and the God’s they are.  Nooroo appeared and stared down at the man in front of him with an angered fiery glare.

“Gabriel Agreste, you have abused me and my miraculous for too long!  I bring upon a curse upon you, that no one will ever believe a word you say, and that your craft of manipulation will only work against you!”

And with that, pain courses through Gabriel and the wings of a butterfly were branded on the left side of his chest just above his heart.  She left soon after that and sent the footage for the police.  She watched from a distance as the police took him in, and told one of the officers that Adrien was innocent and had no connection to his father’s scheme.  Once she was sure Gabriel would not be able to escape his justice she pulled the horse miraculous from her yo-yo and summoned a portal to wherever she needed to be next.

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian was in the cave training when Todd burst in and began to run towards him with a stupid smug grin on his face.  Damian rolled his eyes and watched Todd stop in front of him holding something small and flimsy in his hand.

“Demon Spawn,”

He breathed out, his smug smile growing wider,

“Did you have a girlfriend in the league?”

Damian was….confused.  He had no such thing, but as Todd showed him the thing in his hand his blood froze.  It was the photo of him and Marinette.  How did he find it?!  Why did he even have it?!

“Give it back, Todd.”

Damian growled lowly hands gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

“She is!  Guys, Damian had a-“

He tackled Jason after that and wrestled the photo out of his grip and held it close to him.  He glared daggers at Todd and made absolutely sure that the old photo was still intact.  Once he was sure.  Todd was back on his feet and Damian had the urge to run him through with his sword for daring to rummage through his belongings and to dare touch his picture.  He opened his mouth to spit out fiery words of anger, when a portal opened right in front of Damian.  A girl walked out of it and the portal immediately closed.  It was absolutely silent in the cave as the other occupants who were also there stared at the person.  The girl was rigid as she stared Damian directly in the eyes, and he felt a familiar pull to her.

“Kaalki, Tikki separate.  Tikki spots off.”

She spoke quickly, and her voice, and those words, and he knew who she was.  But that was impossible, because she had died, hadn’t she?!  Arms wrapped around him and he could hear sniffles and he felt his arms wrap robotically around the small frame of his sister.

“Xiōngdì, I missed you so much!  I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner!  Th-the Order was destroyed and Fu woul-wouldn’t let me leave a message, and-and someone was misusing the Butterfly in France (sniff).  And-and…..”

She took a long shaky breath in and sighed,

“I missed you so much.”

It took a while to realize that silent tears were falling down his face, and he hugged her even tighter against his chest.  Because his sister, his twin sister was alive, and she hadn’t died in the fire and destruction of the temple.

“It’s okay, 'ukht.  I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that for a few precious moments before Todd yelled,

“What the f*!”

———————

Permanent Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 11 - zuko x fem!reader

Memories, where'd you go?

part 10 | masterlist | part 12

a/n: alternative name for this fic: y/n gets a crush on every pretty girl she meets. yue, katara, and now suki. she can't help it (and she questions why they're all connected to sokka in some way lmaoo)

anyways, this is kind of filler but it establishes some more with relationships and finallyyy gets us into ba sing se at the end. i know it's a lil annoying because there's a lot of episode-to-text writing, but i promise it'll get more freeform as it goes on

also i know that i just posted something yesterday but i have literally zero patience. like i cant hold chapters i have to post them as soon as i write them loll

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): some feels over zuko as per usual, but overall a pretty tame chapter

chapter title comes from memories by panic! at the disco!

Zuko could barely sleep anymore.

He didn’t know when his life became so complicated, but he wasn’t a fan of it.

Back when it was just him, his crew, and the open sea — it was simple. He had a job, a straightforward mission. Find the Avatar, capture him, return home to the Fire Nation and regain his honor.

Now, the waters were more muddied than ever. Now on the run from the Fire Nation just like the boy he was chasing, all he really felt nowadays was anger.

Angry at the world for setting him on this path, angry at the Avatar for refusing to see what was necessary, his sister and her friends for turning against him, angry at the waterbender for making things so damn hard.

He didn’t want to hurt her. A part of him wished that she had never come back into his life, if it meant he wouldn’t have to constantly be fighting against her. He hated himself for the thought, but maybe it would have been easier for her to remain a memory of a lover than his active enemy.

Late at night, when he was reaching fruitlessly for sleep that would never come, he saw her face. The carefree energy from their childhood morphed into the shock and disappointment from both the North and their fight with Azula, and…

It made him wonder what in Agni had happened to them.

He—

He didn’t know. The way he felt about her, it was different than anything he had experienced before. Zuko didn’t know what it was, but he understood that it was special. And now… it felt like he had just thrown it all away.

Zuko couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened with her in that town — what he had done to her.

He had burned her to try and get to the Avatar, and he hadn’t even allowed a glance back at the damage he had done. He had heard her cry out in pain, pain he had caused, and he didn’t even look back.

What had happened to them? What had happened to him?

He kept telling himself that the mission was the only thing that mattered. And it was, wasn’t it? Capture the Avatar, regain his honor, get his old life back and finally be enough for his father. He didn’t have time for friends, or for these feelings he had, or— or for anything but capturing the Avatar. Because the Avatar was the key to everything, to his honor, and that was all that mattered.

But now…

Now, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He didn’t know what was right, or what was wrong, or what path was the one he had to take.

Zuko just wished things could be like they used to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

She didn’t really know when everything had become a mess again.

It all started out fine, like it usually did. Toph had become fully integrated into the group, any past squabbles put to rest in the name of a stronger friendship emerging between all five of them. Katara continued to work on Aang’s waterbending (oftentimes Y/N joining them in their sessions) while Toph slowly but steadily beat earthbending into him — literally.

They had all been working hard for so long that, by decree of Aang, it was ‘vacation time’. They would all get to pick out places they wanted to spend as a break, and after it was over they would get back to work.

Aang had chosen some sort of field with musical groundhogs, and Y/N had opted to revisit an Earth Kingdom village that she had passed through on her journey to the North. Sokka had complained the whole time about how they were ‘wasting valuable planning time’, but had finally conceded after the promise of ‘all the planning his heart could desire’ from Katara after their mini-vacations were over.

Y/N was actually feeling somewhat relaxed for once, but she had forgotten the golden rule — never let your guard down. Everytime she let her guard down, something bad happened without fail. So it shouldn’t have been any surprise with what happened in the desert.

Because after one trip to the Misty Palms Oasis and a journey into the desert with a professor to a long lost library, Appa had been taken by desert raiders.

It was… less than favourable. During their escape from the library, Professor Zei had insisted on staying behind, and now the five of them were stuck in the middle of the desert with no way out and zero guidance. Add some brewing tensions between Aang and Toph because of her being there when Appa was taken, and they had a recipe for a huge disaster.

And a disaster they had. Multiple disasters, actually.

There was only so much she and Katara could do to hold the group together, but by some miracle, they made it out of the desert with only one Avatar State mishap.

(And an incident with cactus juice, but… she didn’t really want to talk about that.)

....at least they had the information about the Eclipse. That was about the only thing keeping her together at the moment.

They had to get the information to the Earth King so they could formulate an attack with his warriors, but without Appa, they had to resort to more traditional methods of travel. Add in one passport problem, and that was how Y/N found herself braving the Serpent’s Pass alongside a refugee family with a baby on the way.

It was… intimidating, to say the least. Despite being surrounded by her element, Y/N didn’t feel any safer from the challenge that faced them. She took a deep breath, trying to tamp down on her fear the way her mother had taught her, as she followed the group, but her thoughts were soon interrupted.

“Hey.” She turned to see who the voice belonged to and was greeted by the girl that had teased Sokka early — Suki, if she remembered correctly. “I haven’t seen you around; are you with the Avatar or that family?”

“I’m with Aang,” Y/N explained. “I’m from the North, and they offered me a spot with them after they helped us defend our tribe against the Fire Nation. I’ve been with them ever since.” Suki nodded as they settled into a comfortable stride.

“That’s cool. Are you a waterbender?”

She gestured to her waterskin and smiled. “Yeah. I’ve been training with Aang and Katara ever since I left.” Y/N then turned her gaze back to Suki, raising an inquisitive brow. “Your makeup — what’s it for? I heard you talking about the Kyoshi Warriors back there; is that some kind of thing with Avatar Kyoshi?”

Suki grinned, her every expression heightened by the sharp reds and blacks above her eyes. “We’re a group of all-female warriors that use the teachings of Avatar Kyoshi and her partner Rangi to defend our home and the place she founded, Kyoshi Island. I’m the leader of our village section.”

“Wow,” she murmured, her eyes falling to the ground for a moment before finding their way back up to the warrior. “That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

She laughed and shrugged. “Thanks. I’ve been training as a warrior for almost my whole life, so it just comes naturally. I like being able to protect people, and there’s no better way to pay back my home for all it’s done for me like protecting the whole village.”

“Wow,” she repeated with a small laugh of her own. “That’s really brave. I gotta say, I’m kinda jealous — I would love to see what would happen if Master Pakku met you all. Katara literally had to beat the sexism out of him in order to train to be a master.”

Suki chuckled. “Sounds like what I had to do with Sokka. Guess it’s a thing with Water Tribe guys, huh?”

At the mention of Sokka, she internally laughed. There had to be some kind of connection between the two of them, the way their interests kept aligning. “Sokka… he’s had it hard. I can’t blame him that much for any kind of attitude he had before he met you. Pakku, on the other hand? He had to have had something better to do than fight teenage girls.”

“You would think so, right?” Suki agreed. “And Sokka… I know. He’s got a heart of gold underneath all that, he just needed a little push to get it out.” As Y/N glanced over at the girl, noticing a slight pink tint under the white makeup, she gasped.

“La’s fins, are you two a thing?” she exclaimed with a grin.

Suki flushed even harder as she suddenly became very interested in the ocean around her, but she couldn’t help the smile on her lips. “No! I mean— yes— but… but—” she stopped to gather her thoughts before making eye contact again with a sheepish smile. “We’re not… really a thing, but… I do like him a lot. I didn’t really think I was going to see him again after they left the island, so this is really nice.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Y/N asked. “I can already tell that he cares about you — have you seen how careful he’s being with you?”

“Well—” Whatever kind of excuse Suki would’ve made up was interrupted by a rock falling out just under Than, one of the refugees they were with, saved in the nick of time with Toph’s earthbending.

“I’m okay!” he reassured, but no sooner had the words left his mouth before the Fire Nation ship in the distance started firing.

“They’ve spotted us!” Sokka yelled. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

Aang flicked his glider open and deflected the blast, and Katara grabbed Y/N’s hand as they all began to run. Another blast rocked the mountain, causing several boulders to fall just above Suki. Y/N didn’t even have time to shout out a warning before Sokka tackled her out of the way, but it was ultimately more of Toph’s quick earthbending that saved him.

“Suki, are you okay?” Sokka brushed dust and pebbles off of her uniform as he examined her, and once he was satisfied he grabbed her hand and helped her up. “You have to be more careful! Come on!”

As the two of them caught up to Y/N and Katara, she gave Suki a knowing look. The warrior only blushed once again and glanced away.

After hours of navigating the pass, they were only about halfway through. Sokka made the executive decision to set up camp for the night to give everyone time to rest, and then they would get up at the crack of dawn to finish their trip. It only took a few minutes for Y/N to get a fire going, and soon everyone had settled in with their sleeping bags. Sokka got up from his spot as Suki wandered closer to the edge, and Katara nudged Y/N with her shoulder.

“Hey. How are your hands doing?”

“They’re fine,” she answered with a small smile, flipping her hands over as proof. Where there were once red burn scars on her palms only tiny white marks remained — one benefit to healing via waterbending was that most injuries were able to fade away completely after enough sessions. Her burns weren’t very serious and she was able to heal them almost immediately, so both her and Katara were sure that the marks would be completely gone soon.

The mental scars wouldn’t fade as easily.

“That’s good. And you’re taking care of them, right? Like, you’re not beating up people while we’re not looking?”

Y/N grinned. “No. I think I’ll leave that to Toph.”

Katara chuckled and nodded, turning her hands over in a final examination before nodding. “Good,” she repeated. The silence between them, although comfortable, stretched out for a little too long before she spoke again, this time much quieter. “He did this to you.”

“Katara…”

“I know,” she said. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me, or really at all, but… I’m worried about you. Zuko isn’t good for you. Every time we’ve run into him, he’s hurt you. And you deserve so much more than that.”

“You don’t understand,” she countered. “You don’t know Zuko like I do. You weren’t there when I was. I know you think I’m insane for still believing in him, but I— I can’t let go of him, Katara. I know the Zuko I love is still in there somewhere, and I have to try and find it. For me and for him.”

Katara’s eyes were full of nothing but sympathy as she sighed — it was obvious she didn’t believe her words, but in true fashion she was still trying her best to be supportive.

“Okay. I don’t understand it, but… I don’t think I can change your mind.” Y/N chuckled sadly and nodded, Katara’s piercing gaze meeting her own once more. “It’s just… Why are you playing with fire when you know you’re going to get burned?”

And for once, Y/N didn’t have an answer for her friend.

~~~~~~~~~

The night went by quickly, which Y/N was thankful for. It meant that the nightmares didn’t last as long.

After a quick headcount to make sure no one had fallen off the pass overnight and an even quicker gathering of their things, they set off to finish their journey.

It went just as well as she had expected — a giant serpent, the namesake of the pass, had attacked them while crossing through an underwater section. Thankfully, she was able to aid Katara and Aang in defeating it with waterbending with no casualties

But in the wake of one disaster there was always another, and before Y/N knew it a baby had been born. She was mostly there for moral support — Katara had it all handled, and Y/N didn’t expect anything less.

But finally, they had made it across the pass, and they were so close to Ba Sing Se that she could almost smell the city air. Sadly, though, that meant it was time for them to part ways — Aang to find Appa, and Suki back to her warriors. After some sad but hopeful goodbyes with Aang, it was time to bid farewell to Suki.

“Are you sure you can’t travel a little longer with us?” Y/N questioned, apparently not above pleading to try and get the girl to stay. “You’re— you’re amazing, and we’d really love to have you with us.”

“I can’t even imagine what travelling with the Avatar would be like,” she smiled, causing Y/N to get her hopes up for just a moment before they fell back down. “But I can’t stay. I have to get back to the Kyoshi Warriors.”

Y/N sighed, her gaze falling slightly downcast. “I get that. I just really wish you could stay. Or that I could meet your warriors. You seriously don’t know how cool you are, Suki.”

“Well, if you’re ever in town on Kyoshi Island, find us. I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out and do you one better than just meeting them all,” she said with a grin. “I think it’d be pretty cool to have the first waterbending Kyoshi Warrior.”

Y/N was unable to prevent the heat rushing to her cheeks as she smiled shyly, once again averting eye contact. “That would be amazing. I’ll have to find my way back there after the war.”

Suki bumped shoulders with her, causing a startled laugh to spill from her lips. “We’d love to have you.”

“Wait, why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye to her?” Sokka questioned as he walked up to the two of them. Y/N winked at Suki and gestured at him with her head, walking off before Suki could protest to find Katara.

The conversation the two girls were sharing was an extremely thinly veiled excuse to eavesdrop on the lovebirds, and when they kissed Y/N actually had to hold back a scream.

Sokka deserved this. She knew how much he beat himself up over every little thing that went wrong, and it was about time he got to relax even for a moment. She only hoped that Suki would be in their corner of the world sooner rather than later.

What could she say? She was already fantasizing about life as a Kyoshi Warrior.

~~~~~~~~~

Although they had parted ways, they soon found themselves reunited with Aang to stop yet another Fire Nation threat.

“For the love of Kuruk,” Y/N murmured as she stared into the distance, her eyes wide at the sight of a large mechanical drill. “That was Ty Lee who just took down all those soldiers. And if she’s here, Mai and Azula are with her too. Guys, It’s one thing to stop this drill, it’s another thing to take those three down with it.”

“The question is, how do we do it?” Aang questioned.

“Why can nothing ever be easy?” Sokka lamented. His gaze remained trained on the drill for a moment before he realized theirs were on him. “Why are you all looking at me?”

“You’re the idea guy,” Aang said.

“Wait, so I’m the only one who can ever come up with a plan?” he protested. “That’s a lot of pressure!”

“And also the complaining guy,” Katara muttered, drawing a chuckle out from Y/N.

“Now that part I don’t mind,” Sokka admitted.

“Well, Sokka— you were a huge help in the North, and you figured out a way to defeat the Fire Nation during that eclipse at the library! Plus, there’s all that stuff that Katara told me you did before I joined.” She patted him on the back. “If anyone can figure out how to take that thing down, it’s you.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, his ego only slightly bolstered. “...okay. I think I can do it.”

“That’s the spirit!” she said with a smile.

Unfortunately, that smile faded as a young guard came running up to the wall. “Excuse me, Avatar and friends — I’ve heard that you’ve dealt with that… that pink girl down there before.” They nodded and he continued. “It would do us a great deal of help if you could come down and look at our injured soldiers, then.”

Y/N and Katara nodded in unison and started to follow the guard, the remaining three trailing after them. They ended up inside the wall, in what looked like an infirmary of sorts with all the cots and soldiers lying around, and the two waterbenders exchanged looks.

“You know what to do?” Katara asked.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment, and they both knelt down next to separate cots. “This definitely looks like Ty Lee’s work,” she murmured as she bent water up from the pot and molded it over the man’s arm.

“What’s wrong with him?” the general questioned. “He doesn’t look injured.”

“His chi is blocked,” Katara explained. “Who did this to you?”

“Two girls ambushed us,” the soldier said, moving his arm as he regained feeling. “One of them hit me with a bunch of quick jabs and suddenly I couldn't earthbend anymore and I could barely move. Then she cartwheeled away.”

Katara sighed as she bent the water back into the pot. “You were right, Y/N. That was Ty Lee — she doesn’t look dangerous, but she knows the human body and its weak point. It’s like she takes you down from the inside.”

As if struck by lightning, Sokka lit up. “Oh, oh, oh! What you just said — that’s how we’re going to take down the drill; the same way Ty Lee took down all those earthbenders!”

“By hitting its pressure points!” Toph exclaimed with a grin.

The breakthrough brought a steely determination to Aang’s features as he looked out into the distance. “We’ll take it down from the inside.”

~~~~~~~~~

Like everything they did, it seemed so simple on paper. But now that she was actually inside the drill, it felt a lot more nerve wracking. Toph opted to stay outside where she could see and try to slow down the drill with the earth at her disposal, which left the four of them to somehow take it down from the inside.

Sokka led them through a hallway with a myriad of valves and pipes as he thought out loud. “I need a plan of this machine — some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find its weak points.”

“Where are we gonna get something like that?” Aang asked.

Sokka thought for a moment before he took his machete out and hacked a valve off a pipe. Y/N instinctively took a step back and shielded her face from the hot steam. “What are you doing?” she cried. “Someone’s gonna hear us!”

“That’s the point!” he exclaimed. “A machine this big needs engineers to run it, and when something breaks—”

“Someone will come down to fix it!” Katara finished with a smile at Aang, a sentiment the boy returned happily.

It was surprisingly easy to take down the engineer once he arrived — with a little bit of frozen mist on Katara’s end, they had the plans they needed. Sokka’s expertise combined with the blueprints got them to the beginning of the outer shell.

“Wow,” Sokka muttered. “It looks a lot thicker than it does in the plans. We’re gonna have to work pretty hard to cut through that.”

Katara crossed her arms. “What’s this ‘we’ stuff? The three of us are gonna have to do all the work.”

“Look, I’m the plan guy!” Sokka explained with a gesture to himself. “You three are the ‘cut up stuff with waterbending’ guys. Together, we’re Team Avatar!”

Katara and Aang looked wholly unamused while Y/N chuckled. “Team Avatar. I like it.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “At least someone appreciates my genius.”

“Tui’s gills, why do you have to keep boosting his ego?” Katara complained. “Let’s just get this done before it gets worse.”

The three of them got in position — Katara and Aang on opposite sides so they could pass the stream of water between them, and Y/N making the point of the triangle to work on the other side on her own. They were hoping it would be more efficient being able to cut through both sides at the same time, but it was proving to be much more difficult than they had imagined — halfway through the three of them were already exhausted.

By some feat of strength they were able to completely cut through the brace, but their hard work didn’t pay off in quite the way they had imagined — when the beam only shifted a few inches she groaned.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” she breathed as she wiped sweat off of her forehead.

“At this rate,” Katara paused to inhale deeply, “we won’t do enough damage before the drill reaches the wall.”

“I don’t know how many more of those I have in me,” Aang said sadly.

A large creak suddenly rang throughout the large chamber, and they all looked up for the source.

“Did you hear that?” Sokka asked, already backing up to make an exit. “We took it down! We gotta get out of here, fast!”

Just as they reached the door on the other side, a crackle followed by the sound of a man’s voice dashed their hopes. “Congratulations, crew. The drill has made contact with the wall of Ba Sing Se. Start the countdown to victory!”

A collective silence hung in the air between them, the threat now even more imminent as their situation sunk in. Mai and Ty Lee had proven effective in taking down any Earth Kingdom threat posed at them, and despite Toph’s skill they knew she couldn’t take down something like this on their own.

They either had to figure out a way to destroy this drill, or the Fire Nation was going to make it into the city.

Sokka ran back over to the brace and pushed against it, putting all his strength into the feat but to no avail. “Come…. on! Move!”

Katara started pacing around in a small circle, crossing her arms again as she tried to think of something. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

“Sokka, that’s not going to work!” Y/N didn’t mean to snap, but the grinding of metal on metal combined with her nervousness got to her. She sighed and ran her hand over her face. “I— I’m sorry. But it’s still not going to work.”

He groaned as he leaned against the brace. “We’re putting everything we have into busting these things, but it’s taking too long!”

Suddenly, Aang jumped up from the ground with stars in his eyes. “Maybe we don’t need to cut all the way through! Toph — she’s been teaching me that you shouldn’t put a hundred percent of your energy in any one strike. Sokka, get in a fighting stance.”

Sokka complied and as Aang talked through his points, he demonstrated it on Sokka. “You've got to be quick and accurate. Hit a series of points and break your opponent's stance. And when he's reeling back, you deliver the final blow. His own weight becomes his downfall, literally.”

As Sokka fell over from the attack, Katara lit up. “So we just need to weaken the braces instead of cutting all the way through—”

“—then I can go to the top of this thing and deliver the final blow!” Aang finished.

Y/N helped Sokka up from the ground, his spirits not dampened at all. “Then boom! This whole thing goes down!”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Y/N asked, flexing her fingers to refresh them for all the bending she was going to have to do. “Aang, Katara and I can handle the braces. Focus on getting up to the top before anyone sees you.”

He nodded and they all met each other with determined eyes. “Everyone inside that wall, the whole world — they’re all counting on us.”

“Here, take this. You need this more than I do. ” Katara took her waterskin off and handed it to Aang. “Good luck. And be careful.”

Y/N noticed a slight blush on her cheeks and she had to hold back her smile. That was definitely something she was going to tease her friend about later — when they weren’t trying to stop the Fire Nation from breaking into Ba Sing Se.

“I will,” he assured. Aang slung the strap of the waterskin around his shoulder and took off, and Y/N and Katara got to work breaking through the rest of the braces.

With the knowledge that they only had to cut through half of each column and the revitalization that came from having a plan, their work went by much quicker. Just when they finished the final brace, it all went wrong.

“Good work, Team Avatar!” Sokka cheered. “Now we— Y/N, duck!”

She didn’t question Sokka as she immediately dropped to the ground, something she was immensely thankful for as a blast of blue fire seared past her. Her eyes snapped up to the source of the attack and narrowed in recognition.

“Of course they’re here,” she growled as she pulled herself back up. “We gotta go, now!”

Katara and Sokka nodded and they all started running. Bringing up the rear, Y/N was able to hear Azula’s words right before they split off into an intersection:

“Follow them! I’m going to find the Avatar.”

Sure enough, when she allowed a glance back, Mai and Ty Lee were closing in on them. She flicked open the cap of her waterskin and bent some out, managing to freeze it at just the right moment to block the incoming daggers from Mai. Still running, she melted it quickly and let it fall to the ground before freezing it again, creating some ice on the ground that would hopefully give them a few more seconds of leeway.

“That should give us some time!” she yelled as they turned a corner, finally turning her attention back to the path in front of them. “Any idea how we’re gonna get out of this thing?”

“Maybe!” Sokka yelled back, slowing to a stop as they came to a dead end, a large hatch the only thing at their disposal. He started tugging on the wheel in an attempt to open it, and when Y/N joined in they were able to wrench it open.

“Slurry pipeline?” Katara frowned as she read the sign on the wall and looked at Sokka. “What does that mean?”

“It’s rock and water mixed together,” he explained as they looked into the rushing liquid underneath the hatch. “It means it’s our way out!”

Katara nodded and climbed in, Sokka following close after. The sound of metal footsteps got closer and closer, and Y/N ducked inside just as Mai’s knives clanked against the hatch. Never before had she been so happy to be floating in a stream of slurry.

The rest of their mission went by surprisingly easy — at least, on their end. All it took was some waterbending — earthbending, when Toph joined them — and encouragement from Sokka (though unappreciated by Katara). Whatever magic Aang was working at the top of the drill had done its job, because soon enough the drill had collapsed in on itself.

And now, they had reunited on the top of the wall overlooking the sunset. After the chaos that had been their day, it was nice to just relax for even a moment. And there was no better way to do so than with her friends.

“I just want to say, good effort out there, Team Avatar!” Sokka exclaimed as he threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulder.

“Enough with the ‘Team Avatar’ stuff,” Katara said dryly. “No matter how many times you say it, it’s not going to catch on.”

“I like it, Sokka,” Y/N smiled. “I’ve liked it this whole time.”

“You always appreciate my genius, Y/N,” he mused. “That’s why I appreciate you.” She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder as he continued to list off names.

“How about… the Boomeraang squad! Eh? See, it’s good because it’s boomerang, and it has Aang in it—”

“Yeah Sokka,” Toph interrupted. “We got it.”

Aang grinned and scratched his head. “I kinda like that one.”

“The Aang Gang. Ooh, the Fearsome Fivesome!”

“You’re crazy,” Toph muttered as she walked away.

“Wait, Sokka—” Y/N pulled away from him and held up her pointer finger. “Aang Gang — what if we combine it, so it’s just the Gaang? But still with Aang’s name?”

And at that moment, Sokka looked more proud than ever. “Oh, you— you are a genius.”

“Oh, spirits,” Katara groaned. “Why do you insist on encouraging him?”

“You’re just jealous of our name-making abilities,” Sokka said haughtily.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You two are completely ridiculous, you know that? Let’s just get into the city before the trains stop running.”

Y/N and Sokka winked at each other as they all started walking, unable to keep the smile off of her face. She always thought it was amazing — they went through insane things every day, but at the end of it all she was always able to smile because of them. And as her gaze drifted towards the city in the distance, she hoped it would hold true.

She had no idea what Ba Sing Se had in store for her.

-

shit is gonna happen next chapter so i hope you all are READY bc im not

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

ehfar tags: @chandies-sideblog @zacatecanaaaa @anzanity @randomthingssss @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @shanksfav @shephard17895 @ilovespideyyy @carisi-sonny @selfship-mishaps @i-belong-in-fandoms @ilistentotayswifttocope @i-make-questionable-choices @3leni

[mizunetzu]

wait okay i have so many ideas you have no clue- okay so basically y/n is too scared to confess to either ushijima or shinsou (you decide lol) so he just puts love notes in his locker :)) but ushijima/shinsou catches him one day so he teases him about it but he liked y/n too so he lowkey confesses and its super fluffy i- 🥺🥺 i've had this idea for so long but i have no clue where to start writing it myself lolll

Guess who...took 4 months...to do Mr. Shinsoussimps request...not me...ahahaha...what are you talking about...BUT ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY MR SHINSOU PLS TAKE THIS FIC AS MY APOLOGIES

——————

Ushijima x reader - Secret Admirer Love Letter-kun!

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

(Y/n’s) hands shook as he traced the linings of his love letter.

It had a red, heart-shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Ushijima-san’ written in royal purple across the back. The letter had slight crinkles from the shaky grip (Y/n) held it with.

His heart raced purely thinking about how Ushijima would react. Would he even react? Or would he just look at him with that blank stare and walk past him? Would he be ridiculed for being a man giving a love letter to another man?

Every single intrusive thought made (Y/n) want to tear up the letter and flush it down a toilet. Nonetheless, he stood next to Ushijima’s locker, waiting for him to appear.

His legs shook. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He could physically feel the sweat running down his forehead. He was probably gaining stares from other students for standing near Ushijima’s locker and panicking silently.

All these ‘what-if’s’ was beginning to make (Y/n) second-guess his decision. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all...

No! He had to! He’s been harboring his feelings for Ushijima for years now, and he was getting nowhere! Even if it was rejection, and he certainly hoped it was not, he needed an answer!

Just as if right on cue, (Y/n) heard the familiar deep voice of Ushijima coming down the hall. He wasn’t saying much, but the accompanied grunts of acknowledgement to Tendou’s ramblings was enough proof it was him. Without thinking, (Y/n’s) panic took over him, shoving his love letter into Ushijima’s locker and dashing out of the way.

He blended himself in with the gaggle of students near their lockers, watching Ushijima as he opened his own locker.

“Ara?” Tendou cocked his head when the letter (Y/n) slipped in fluttered out. It landed on the floor gracefully. Ushijima bent over and plucked it off the ground.

“Our Wakatoshi~kun has a secwet admiwer?” Tendou squashed his face together and boared curious eyes into the heart-shaped sticker on the note. Ushijima grunted.

“It seems to be a love letter.” Ushijima’s low voice sent even more panic through (Y/n). He didn’t want to be there while he opened the letter. But here he was, 10 feet away from him as he carefully peeled off the heart sticker from the envelope.

Ushijima’s eyes silently scanned the letter, it’s meticulous, thought-out writing filling Ushijima’s eyes. The silence rang so, so loud to (Y/n), as he watched Ushijima read his love letter with his emotionless face.

After what seemed like forever, Ushijima lifted his head up from the note. (Y/n’s) heart stopped.

“It is a love letter.” (Y/n), and Tendou, deadpanned.

Tendou reached for the letter. “Fiiiiine, then let me see-!”

Ushijima pulled the letter away, raising it above his head and out of Tendou’s easy reach. He lowered the letter and cradled it to his chest.

“No. It’s mine.”

(Y/n’s) heart fluttered. Could this mean-?

“But it does, however, have no name.”

“Awh. Poor Wakatoshi-kun’s admirer must be rewwy shy~”

(Y/n) internally facepalmed. Of course he forgot to sign the note! Why wouldn’t he?! (Y/n) crinkled up his nose. He was still determined to get his feelings to Ushijima.

He turned around, and walked to class. The next day, for sure, he was going to give him a love letter with his signature on it this time.

——

(Y/n) stared down at his paper, then shifted his eyes to the alarm clock sitting tauntingly at his dorm room’s desk, with the bright red numbers 10:35 pm glaring so menacingly at him. Like it was telling him to hurry up and sign the new love letter he just wrote. (Y/n) re-read the letter on his desk for the 6th time that night.

Everything was perfect. It explained his feelings perfectly, explained how long he’d been smitten for him for, hell, he even doodled a small picture of Ushijima himself with a heart next to it in the corner of the page.

Everything was there, except his name.

Did he really want to put his name, though? I mean, (Y/n) saw how...endearing Ushiwaka’s face looked reading his original letter. What if he ruined that when he finds out it was him who wrote it? And not some cute girl?

(Y/n) stared at the empty space on the page where his name was supposed to go. His hand gripped his pencil tighter than he should’ve, and began to write.

‘(L/n) (Y/...’

He stopped. (Y/n) thought about it for awhile, then grabbed his eraser and scrubbed at the name until it was pristine white again.

‘Your secret admirer’

Was all he wrote.

He packaged up the note in another small envelope, pressed a cute little heart sticker to the flap, and went to bed.

——

The next day, (Y/n) made sure to rush to school early to slip the note in his locker. He wanted to see his reaction to his new note. It made him feel sorta high. What kind of face would he make? Would he be delighted? He hoped he would.

(Y/n) crammed the note into Ushiwaka’s locker. No one was around. Good. No one saw him shove the letter through, therefore no one could tell Ushijima it was him. (Y/n) sighed contently, and timpered off somewhere secluded, but somewhere he could still see Ushijima and his locker.

After scrolling on his phone for what seemed like an hour, he heard Tendou’s familiar voice, humming a strange song and trailing next to Ushijima. It was his daily indicator that Ushijima was near. If he could hear Tendou coming, almost 100% Ushijima would be there too. (Y/n) pocketed his phone quickly and peeked behind a row of lockers.

Ushijima silently unhinged his locker, listening to Tendou talk. However, they fell silent when another letter fluttered out from his locker, this time landing so perfectly in his hands.

“Ara ara? Another note from Admirer-chan?”

“Yes. But I know it’s a boy, Tendou.”

(Y/n’s) heart dropped. He watched as Ushiwaka peeled off the heart sticker once more, while continuing his conversation with Tendou.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

Ushijima stopped, and reached into his locker once more. He pulled out (Y/n’s) previous note, and pointed to a line of text scribbled on there so neatly. Tendou raised his eyebrow, and leaned down to inspect the note.

‘-Besides, there’s no way someone as amazing as you can like a guy like me. It’s weird right? I hope you don’t think it’s weird. But I wouldn’t blame you.’

“Ahhhh~ makes sense...” Tendou hooked his arms dramatically over the back of his head. “But do you? Does Wakatoshi-kun think Secret Admirer-kun is weird?”

Ushijima traced the two love letters with his eyes. “I think he’s brave.”

(Y/n) clutched his tightening chest. It suddenly became really hard to breathe. How was Ushijima being so unintentionally sweet?

Tendou cooed. “Awwww, Is our Wakatoshi-kun catching feelings for his Admirer-kun?”

Ushijima folded the two notes back into their envelopes silently. He said nothing to Tendou’s remarks, while gently placing the two love letters back into a safe spot in his locker.

(Y/n) brisk-walked away, flustered, before he could hear his answer.

——

Writing notes and hiding them in Ushijima’s locker became a sort of habit for (Y/n) in the past few weeks.

Every now and then, he’d write a short love letter signed “Your Secret Admirer” or “Admirer-kun” and slip it under Ushijima’s dorm room door or the cracks between his locker. It became an addiction of watching him unravel the note with the tenderness of an angel. For such a big dude, he held each love letter (Y/n) wrote him with such delicacy.

(Y/n) walked with a pep in his step as he arrived to the school building early, like he’d usually been doing. He’d recently been writing small letters, playground compliments like “I think you look nice today!” or “the way you play volleyball gets me all fired up!” but this was the first time in a while he wrote a good chunk of his feelings out.

At first he thought he would make Ushijima uncomfortable, but after many of his personal notes filled with the most wonderful explanations of his feelings, or rambling about dates he’d like to take him on, he’s grown more comfortable with it. Especially after seeing the teeny tiny, barely noticeable blush tinting his cheeks as he read them.

(Y/n) stopped in front of Ushiwaka’s locker. It was a familiar stop, after cramming in letter after letter inside for about a month or two now. It’s been so long that (Y/n) couldn’t even remember himself.

Just as his hand met with the cold metal locker to slip the note in, two hands slammed down on (Y/n’s) shoulders, effectively scaring him shitless.

“I’ve caught you! Secret admirer-kun!”

“Uwaaaah!”

Tendou made a show of flamboyantly pointing his lanky fingers at (Y/n), bending his back father then (Y/n) knew was possible in the process. (Y/n) jittered, swinging his hands in front of him while stuttering incoherently.

“I-it-its not-! It’s not wh-what it-! T-the letter-I was just-I-!”

“There’s no use for it now, Secret-Admirer (L/n)-kun! You’ve been caught red handed!” Tendou stuck his tongue out heartily while (Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. If Tendou kept yelling the whole damn school would hear him.

“I-I’m not the one leaving notes in Ushijima-kun’s locker! I was just-!”

“Oya? Then how did you know Wakatoshi-kun was gettin’ notes in his locker in the first place?” Tendou eyed him down half jokingly. (Y/n) sputtered.

“More importantly...” Tendou dramatically pointed to the envelope half-sticking out from the slits of Ushijima’s locker. “Whaaaaats that!?”

“That’s-!”

There was no use fighting Tendou on this. (Y/n) deflated, defeated and grasping on to the wall of lockers for support. “Uuuuu...”

“So, Secret Admirer-“

“S-stop calling me that! Just (L/n) is fine-!”

“-Secret Admirer-kun, what made you fancy our lovely Wakatoshi-kun?”

(Y/n) turned around, facing the locker as Tendou smiled his usual, Tendou-grin. (Y/n) didn’t wanna look at Tendou and his stupid knowing smirk.

“He’s just...I dunno, he’s just so-cool...and stuff...and he’s so nice...looking...”

“Ah, such sophisticated words-tell me, do you write all of this down in the letters you give him?”

“Hey!” (Y/n) whipped his head around.

Tendou chuckled, and part of (Y/n) wanted to smack him upside the head. Tendous laughter eventually died down, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. He looked back at (Y/n), who was blushing profusely and had his arms crossed.

“Phew...haha...” Tendou cleared his throat. He pointed straight at (Y/n). “Now, here’s some ultra wise words from Satori-sama!” He mimicked a fake drum roll on his lap, before pointing at (Y/n) again.

“Ja-jun~! You should Wakatoshi-kun how you feel about him!”

(Y/n’s) heart got stuck in his throat. “A-are you crazy! I could never! I-I’m not...I’m not...I’m scared..”

“Hm? But you’re not scared to write about how much you wanna kiss him alllllllll oveeeeeer-?”

“That’s different!” (Y/n) yelled, more quietly this time. He turned back to the locker, and tipped the rest of the note in sticking out inside the slit. The note disappeared through the gap, just like all of its predecessors. “Like this, I can tell him how much I love him without him knowing it was from me! What if he’s disappointed it’s me and not some other dude?”

“I’m veeeeeery sure he won’t be. But suit yourself, I guess.” Tendou shrugged. He turned around and left, but not before saying,

“But you’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.”

“Wait-what does that mea-“

(Y/n) looked back, only to find Tendou gone. (Y/n) stood there, perplexed, before dashing off to his own locker, so he wouldn’t be spotted near Ushijima’s.

——

Everyday when (Y/n) went to slip another note into Ushiwaka’s locker, Tendou’s words would ring in his mind.

‘You’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.’

He knew that. He knew that but he couldn’t stop himself from cowardly slipping notes into Ushijima’s locker, just to run and take cover as he opened them up. And one time he could swear Tendou was looking right at him in his hiding spot when Ushijima was reading one of his letter.

(Y/n) shook the thoughts from his head. That happened 3 days ago, and nothing happened. Tendou was probably just trying to scare him into telling him. Yeah. There’s no way anyone could’ve found out about him being Ushijima’s secret admirer.

He huffed and strode up to Ushijima’s locker, just like he did every time before that. No one was in the hallway. There was no footsteps, at least to (Y/n’s) knowledge, and Tendou wasn’t around with his booming voice. If (Y/n) could hear Tendou coming, chances are Ushijima was not too far behind.

Tendou wasn’t there. (Y/n) was safe. He smiled and rose the letter up to the slot in Ushijima’s locker. He slowly crammed the note in, slowly, slowly until-

Slam!

A large, calloused hand slammed against the locker, making (Y/n) jolt up in surprise. (Y/n’s) heart stopped beating. He felt someone lean against his ear, and then they whispered:

“So Tendou was right. You were the one leaving the letters in my locker.”

“Ushijima-kun-!”

(Y/n) whipped his head around by the speed of lightning, pressing himself against the locker wall as if he’d disappear into it. Stupid fucking Tendou! Of course he’d tell Ushijima!

Ushiwaka didn’t move from his spot in front of (Y/n). His arm outstretched on the wall beside (Y/n) didn’t falter either, making him blush even more. God, he wanted to disappear.

The letter, now hidden crudely behind (Y/n) sweaty back, was being smushed as he tried shrinking in on himself.

“I-I-“ (Y/n’s) mouth ran dry. “It’s not what it looks like-!”

“Hm.” Ushijima’s deep voice manage to startle (Y/n), despite being right infront of him. God, he was close. So close. He’s too close. Oh god, why is he so close?

Ushijima suddenly grabbed (Y/n’s) hand, making him sputter in surprise as Ushijima pulled it out gently. A letter with a red heart sticker on the flap was wedged in between (Y/n’s) shaky, sweaty fingers. Ushijima looked at the envelope, while (Y/n) averted his embarrassed eyes.

“...But it’s exactly what it looks like.”

Words perished in (Y/n’s) throat. If the locker would just open up and swallow him whole, now was the time.

Ushiwaka plucked the note out of (Y/n’s) hands, ignoring the small protests of (Y/n) himself. He tried to grab for the letter, but Ushijima held the envelope high above his head and grabbed at (Y/n’s) shivering wrists. (Y/n) squeaked.

“...why are you trying to grab it back if this letter was meant for me in the first place?” Ushijima looked oblivious to (Y/n’s) embarrassment. (Y/n) croaked. He didn’t even register what Ushiwaka said with how strong and warm his grip on his wrists were.

He didn’t realize Ushijima managed to peel off the heart sticker and fish out the note with his hand until he started reading the letter. His eyes scanned the words, even when (Y/n) quietly squirmed protestingly in his grasp.

“Mm.” Ushijima hummed. (Y/n’s) eyes widened when he realized what he wrote in today’s note.

‘Y’know, I think you’re really cool with how you’re so dedicated to your club. But maybe...one day we could grab a bite to eat after your club activities? Just you and me? And maybe if I’m lucky enough I just might get a kiss from the amazing Ushijima Wakatoshi-kun~’

(Y/n) wanted no more but to die then and there. Ushijima looked at (Y/n) with an unreadable gaze.

“Ah. So it seems in today’s letter, you would like to go out for food and kiss. I am free after club activities today at 6. Are you free at that time or must we reschedule?”

(Y/n) met Ushijima’s state with a confused face. He said nothing-he couldn’t say anything. All he could do was muster up a weak “w-wha..?”

“So...you are not free today...?” Ushijima’s face was normal, but he gave off the same vibe a sad, kicked puppy would. It was sorta cute. (Y/n) waved his hands around frantically in Ushijima’s grasp.

“N-no! That’s not it! I-I’m free! I’m totally free! I just-“

“You just what?” Ushijima cocked his head to the side bluntly. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it clamp shut quietly.

(Y/n) averted his gaze. “Well...you don’t think it’s...weird that I was the one leaving you love letters?”

“But I already knew you were a man in the first place.”

“Still!” Ushijima was genuinely confused. (Y/n’s) voice died down a bit.

“Aren’t you...y’know...disappointed?”

Ushijima’s gaze never left (Y/n’s) eyes. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“I’m...w-well...it’s just...”

Ushiwaka placed his free hand on the other side of (Y/n’s) face, effectively trapping him in between his arms. Ushijima’s heavy gaze was too much to bear. (Y/n) instinctively averted his gaze away.

“You still haven’t given me a valid reason to be disappointed.”

“I-“

“You’re lovely, I believe you are very attractive, and you leave nice letters of encouragement in my locker everyday.”

“Wait-“

“I believe we both have feelings for each other. Therefore, I do not see why you are so hesitant on just doing what today’s lovely note said.”

“Ushi-“

“Is this just an excuse to turn me down? Were the letters not your true feelings? Because if so you just have to say so-“

“Ushijima-kun!”

(Y/n) rasped out between his fingers. He was covering his blushing face, and Ushijima didn’t know why until he realized his face was centimeters away from (Y/n’s). If it weren’t for (Y/n’s) hands cupping his face, they’d probably be able to kiss with one push closer.

“P-ple-please s-step back...”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Ushijima moved back, but didn’t quite move his arms from their positions on either side of (Y/n). He blinked. Silence engulfed them both, Ushijima bluntly staring at (Y/n) as he blushed and blushed into his hands.

Ushijima figured he should say something, and even open his mouth to speak when (Y/n) suddenly piped up, bringing his hands down from his face.

“I-I’m free...at 6...”

Ushijima blinked again.

“Ah. Today?”

“Yeah..!”

“Lovely. It is decided then. Will you wait for me at the gym after practice? If not I can pick you up from your dorm room.”

(Y/n) fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if he was dreaming or not. “I-I can meet you at the gym!”

Ushijima smiled gently, and that’s probably the first time (Y/n’s) seen him smile ever. It was so coaxing, relaxed and warm, (Y/n) wanted to take of picture of it and just stare at it for days. Ushijima let his hands fall to his sides. Not before giving a pat to (Y/n’s) head.

“It is decided then. It’s a date.”

(Y/n) had to remind himself to thank Tendou later.

——————

Lowkey this was so fun to write~ why don’t y’all leave some love in the comments because of that~~?

[peachy-panic]

“Look at me.”

Hi there. I’m new here, but also very much not, which is to say you’ve probably seen me pop up a few dozen (hundred) times in your notifications with likes and comments and the occasional ask when I’m feeling brave, sliding under the radar from the safety of my obscure fandom-turned-main account.

POINT IS, I’m no stranger to the wonderful works of this community, and CERTAINLY no stranger to whump appreciation, even if I haven’t always had a word for it. And because I’ve been so inspired by all the talented writers here, I’ve decided to finally cut loose and throw my own work into the ring, and the whole @whumpmasinjuly thing seemed like an opportune time to pop up.

I’ve aggressively lurked on so many of your pages in the last year so I’m sure I’m leaving someone out, but I did want to tag a few of the writers who have really motivated me to start this page just by reading their writing:

@ashintheairlikesnow @orchidscript @deluxewhump @whump-tr0pes @evermetnotforgotten @card-games-and-pain

And if you’ve made it this far into the post, we’ve arrived at the actual content. This snippet is from a project I started writing before I knew about the existence of the BBU, but I’ve slowly started molding it into something that fits more-or-less within the bounds of that collective universe. Some things may take slightly different turns to the rules established there, but it’s the same general concept.

Without further ado.

PROMPT: “Look at me.”

WARNINGS: General BBU-esque warnings, human trafficking, slavery, non-con (fade-to-black ish but the lead up is… Not Great). Let me know if I missed anything!

He knows something is off right away when Mr. Torley calls to him from the end of the long hallway on the other side of the house. 

When the children are home, Jaime is confined to the main common areas: the living room that spills into the large open-concept kitchen, the guest bathroom, the laundry room (where he has already spent most of his time working), the boys’ toy room (where he has only gone to clean up after them), and of course, the small room he has been given to sleep in, which he is sure once served as some sort of storage area. 

At the mouth of the living room is a corridor that leads to Mr. Torley’s study, and across from that, his bedroom. So he is told. Jaime was given instructions never to go into that wing of the house unless explicitly invited. He has been in his new home assignment for three days now and has never once been asked to cross those bounds. 

Until now. 

Carefully, Jaime places the mug he had been diligently scrubbing in the basin of the sink and shuts off the tap. He looks around for the hand towel and, remembering he had thrown it in with the last load of laundry, dries his hands on his t-shirt instead.

There’s a shift in the air, something thick and weighty and terrible as he steps into the opening of the hallway, but he doesn’t allow himself a moment to hesitate. He pads near-silently forward, toward the only open door, all the way at the end. 

In the threshold between the hall and the master bedroom, Jaime’s toes brush against where pristine hardwood meets soft carpet. It feels good against his bare feet after days of standing on an unforgiving surface without the allowance of shoes or socks, but not nearly good enough to settle the uneasiness building in the pit of his stomach. Mr. Torley sits on the edge of the bed, a long, deep-colored robe covering most of his body, save for the deep strip of exposed skin down his chest where a few patches of thick, dark hair peek through. Jaime forces his eyes up to his.

“You called for me, Sir?” His voice low and steady, even as his eyes draw unwittingly to the lamp on the bedside table, which has been dimmed to an orange glow that makes the room feel small and suffocatingly warm. 

“Come here,” his Keeper beckons, and Jaime’s muscles operate by the hand of some unseen force, pushing him forward. He only makes it half a step in before Mr. Torley raises a hand, gesturing to where the light of the hallway spills in around his silhouette. “Close the door behind you.”

Jaime’s limbs feel very heavy all of a sudden, but he moves anyway, a phantom sting buzzing beneath his skin at even the briefest thought of hesitation. Never make your Keeper wait. Never let your Keeper ask twice. 

The hallway is plain and sterile, much like the rest of the Torley house, but Jaime stares longingly out at it as he pulls the door shut, wishing he were out there instead.

When the door clicks shut, he can feel a pair of eyes rake down his back like cold fingertips. It raises the hair on the back of his neck, his skin breaking out in an unpleasant chill, but he forces perfect neutrality into his expression before he turns around. He zeroes in on the sensation of soft carpet under his soles instead of the prickling dread under his skin as he makes his way toward the bed, coming to a stop a couple feet away.

Mr. Torley chuckles under his breath, a low, amused sound that Jaime is already getting used to hearing. He seems to reserve it for Jaime alone and it always serves to make him feel like there is some sort of private joke he’s not been let in on. Or, more accurately, that he is the joke, and he can’t quite stifle the lingering sense of shame that comes with that. 

“I said, come here.” It’s a direct order, but paired with a hint of amusement and something darker swimming behind his eyes. He rubs a hand invitingly, pointedly, over the comforter next to him and Jaime swallows back a lump in his throat that feels a lot like bile.

He isn’t stupid. Despite everything that’s been told to him, he’s not. But in that moment he wishes maybe he was, and then ignorance could be bliss for just a few more seconds. He knows where this is headed, and he knows that it’s wrong. It is against the policies, against the rules, he knows it is, but he isn’t surprised, either. It hadn’t taken long at the training facility to discover that the system on paper looks a whole lot different than the system in practice. 

“‘We uphold a zero-tolerance policy for the sexual exploitation and abuse of Domestic workers,’” a cruel, mocking voice recites in his head, alongside the memory of a leather-gloved thumb sliding between his lips, his wide, tearful eyes glued to the tiny, black remote in his handler’s fist. 

The skin beneath his collar burns at the memory, and he raises his fingers absently to touch there, half expecting to feel the heavy weight of the electric clip attached. He doesn’t, of course, and the only electricity he feels now is of a different nature, coming off his Keeper in waves as he waits, a bit more impatiently with every second, for Jaime to sit. 

So he does. 

Mr. Torley crowds his space immediately, and his instinctive response to pull away is smothered by a heavy arm draping over his shoulders and a droning voice inside his head. You must make yourself available at all times. You may not refuse any order or request that does not directly interfere with the wellbeing of another person. Jaime allows himself to wonder, for the briefest moment, if his wellbeing counts for anything. He knows it doesn’t. They had just spent the past three months teaching him, in every way imaginable, that he was not, in fact, a person at all.

All the offhand remarks from the trainers, the lewd sneers, the heavy-lidded glances and roaming hands… they had all painted him a picture of what to expect. He had just tricked himself into thinking that maybe, hopefully, if there ever really was a god in this universe that loved him like he was sure he once believed, that he was wrong. In the three days since he had stepped foot into his newest post, Jaime had managed to convince himself that maybe, possibly, he had gotten one of the good ones. 

Mr. Torley is all too happy to shatter the illusion as his finger and thumb find Jaime’s earlobe, rubbing it between them and then ghosting down the side of his neck. 

“Take off your shirt,” he whispers.

Jaime’s blood runs cold. 

You may not refuse any order or request. He can’t conceal the trembling in his fingers as they curl around the hem of his standard-issue grey t-shirt. You may not refuse any order or request. The warm ambience of the room feels startlingly cold against his naked torso as he pulls the fabric over his head, letting it fall in a soft whisper onto the carpet. You may not refuse any order or request. His arm is back around his shoulders instantly, hot and cold assaulting his skin all at once and he feels so exposed and he doesn’t want to be here he doesn’t want to do this. 

Mr. Torley places a heavy palm against his chest, running it slowly downward, and Jaime can picture what it looks like without even looking; calloused pads scraping over soft skin, all thick fingers and subtly unkempt nails, the beginnings of age spots and wrinkles and small dustings of black hair across the knuckles. He thinks his keeper must be able to feel the way his heart is pounding through his ribs, and he feels a surge of embarrassment that he was sure the training should have beaten out of him.

It’s because you weren’t trained for this, the panicked voice in the back of his head screams as the hand trails lower, grazing the thin patch of hair below his navel. This isn’t supposed to happen. This is against policy. You weren’t made for this. His skin feels static in every place Mr. Torley’s fingers brush, and he wishes he could dissolve under them.

“You’re shaking, baby.” Jaime winces at the unexpected term of endearment. So far, it has only been boy, curt and abrasive when thrown in his direction, usually followed by a direct order. “Have you never had a man touch you like this?”

His mind supplies a horror show of memories, flashes of images behind closed eyelids -  leather-gloved hands and concrete rooms of the training facility - and he realizes he doesn’t know how to answer that. He wants to cry. Can’t cry. Isn’t allowed to cry. Then there are fingers on his chin, on his jaw, softer than any of his touches have ever been; soft like the word baby on his lips, soft like the half-lidded eyes that he is forced to meet. 

“I asked you a question.”

“I haven’t. Sir.” His voice shakes, barely a whisper. 

It is mostly true, probably in the way Mr. Torley really meant it, and unfortunately seems to be exactly the answer he was looking for. Dread splits Jaime in two. One part, the part of him that’s hazy and pliant and good tells him he has done a good job, that he has pleased his Keeper, he has said the right thing. His keeper’s needs are his needs, if his Keeper is happy, he is happy. 

The other part just keeps screaming. And screaming. And screaming.

He doesn’t want this.

It doesn’t matter what he wants, he’s not supposed to have wants.

But this isn’t allowed.

His Keeper is happy.

Please, please stop touching me.

He can’t say no, no is forbidden to him.

Please don’t make me do this.

His keeper is smiling.

“You’re very lucky,” Mr. Torley says, dragging the thumb that was holding his jaw over he’s lower lip. “They could have given you to any one of your bidders, and trust me… there are some messed up people out there who invest in the services of Domestic Companions. But I can be good to you.”

Somehow, he doesn’t feel very lucky at all.

“Yes, sir,” he says, a bit breathless as fingers trace up and down his spine. His own fingers curl into the bedsheets on the opposite side of his thigh where Mr. Torley can’t see the outward signals of his distress, though from the naked delight in his eyes as he watches him, he doesn’t think he minds. 

There are lips on his before he can even process what is happening, and he feels his whole body go rigid in his Keeper’s hold. He’s never been kissed before and the cold wetness against his mouth is nothing like the movies make it out to be. It’s hard to wrap his head around the overwhelming sensation, but the one thing he knows for sure, immediately, is that he hates it. 

He hates his first kiss unlike anything he’s hated before. Terror and humiliation seize him in equal stride as he realizes he doesn’t really know what to do. He is frozen, for a moment, his own pulse beating wildly in his ears as slimy lips move against his own. When Mr. Torley cups a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to lean into the kiss, his mouth opens instinctively, submitting to the insistence of the movement, and this seems to be exactly what he was looking for. A low, throaty hum vibrates against his mouth and Jaime clamps his eyes shut tight. He feels like he might die. For a moment, he kind of wishes he would.

He doesn’t register the pressure of the hand against his chest until his back is already pressed into the duvet. Mr. Torley sits up then, breaking the kiss, then stands. Jaime doesn’t look at him - he can’t bring himself to - but he can feel his eyes on him anyway. Thick fingers hook into the elastic of the thin, gray pants he had been given three days prior, and his breathing goes flat. Please don’t please don’t please don’t, his brain lights up with panic, every nerve ending in his body on high alert. But he doesn’t move, other than to close his trembling fingers around the material on either side of him, curling the soft fibers of the duvet into his fists. He wants to close his eyes, but he can feel them burning, then swimming with moisture, and he knows if he clamps his eyelids shut, the tears will spill over and he doesn’t want to cry in front of Mr. Torley.

Instead, he stares up at the ceiling fan, focusing on the long, thin blades of wood instead of the feeling of cool air against his lower half as the material is pulled away from him. He hears the rustle of cloth as his pants join the discarded shirt on the carpet at his feet, and then another sound of the same, this time heavier, but he doesn’t dare look away from the grey clump of dust dangling from one of the fan blades above him.

Worse than the chill of the exposure is the heat that follows in the form of skin on skin, an immovable weight settling over his body. His throat jerks in another attempt at a sob, a plea that can’t let free. He swallows it down and tells himself that if he just keeps staring at that one spot of dust, he isn’t really here, that his keeper is not on top of him, that this isn’t about to happen to him. 

But he is. It is. There’s no stopping it now. There never was.

“Look at me.” 

For the first time, he allows his eyes to slip shut in a quiet moment of defeat - just a singular moment of hesitation before he follows the command. He feels the moisture slipping out at the corners but he can’t do anything to stop them even if his hands weren’t being slowly pressed above his head and into the mattress. When he opens his eyes, he looks up into the cold expression hovering over him, fully eclipsing the spot of his previous focus. It’s just him now. It’s all him, every one of his senses besieged by the one person whose life he is supposed to center himself around now. In that context, perhaps this should feel exactly right. 

Somehow, it doesn’t. Not at all.