#it's just so much less annoying and frustrating i mean also probably the time distance matters

[miraclemaya]

perhaps this is just me, but reading or other wise viewing a work that is racist or orientalist or whatever from an author from like 100 years ago that is just racist and not like pretending not to be is so much less frustrating then something from now where the creator, not pretends but like, they are working on the assumption that they cannot be racist right? but their work will still be racist or whatever but like they just dont see it at all

[robotsprinkles]

okay so having just s-ranked the FoR ending/closure satellite mission I think I have slightly more of a leg to stand on with my criticisms now (not going to be referring to the boss by name because spoilers or whatever)

doing the mission the amount of times I did made some of the issues I was having stand out a lot more (since I kept dying because of them)

(readmore because long.)

(also preemptive "I'm not saying the game is trash I just have some criticisms of certain things and otherwise the game is fantastic" so people don't think I'm being one of those people in steam discussions complaining about the bosses being unfair and boring and bad or stagger being a garbage mechanic or complaining about enemies input reading because they dodged into the enemy's attack after the attack was already going and died or whatever)

I really think the input buffer window for switching weapons from the weapon bay after a melee attack and for charging attacks after switching from the weapon bay should be made a bit longer. it's really annoying dying or taking massive damage or missing out on all your damage after staggering a boss because you started charging the pile bunker or laser lance too early and the input didn't register so you just stand there like an idiot while the boss either recovers or eats half your health in the time it takes you to realise

(yes I could just wait for the animations to finish and know for certain that the weapon's ready to charge but that risks missing the attack window in some cases)

I've read this next one might be a bug from when you attack too soon after staggering a boss and the ai's input reading response overrides the stagger animation/freeze, so maybe it'll get fixed, but it kinda sucks when you stagger a boss and immediately go to do your big damage attack and the boss recovers instantly the moment you start pressing or releasing the button even though they really shouldn't be able to (because if you wait like 100ms or something then the boss doesn't dodge it and stays staggered the attack does hit but if you wait just a few frames too long the boss recovers in the time it takes the attack to charge)

the pile bunker feels wildly inconsistent in certain situations. sometimes it feels like it just decides to miss if you're a bit too far even when in other situations it does hit at that same distance. which means if I'm trying to use it against a boss that likes to dance around a lot (e.g. ibis or the FoR final boss) and I stagger them when they're a bit away from me and I assault boost and charge the bunker, if I charge it a bit too early I'll just whiff and waste the entire/majority of the damage phase. (I probably wouldn't mind as much if the normal attack didn't boost you towards the enemy. also yeah something something skill issue I need to just learn the appropriate measure of the attack. but it does feel kinda dumb that the charged attack doesn't charge you at the enemy when the normal attack does)

assault armour feels similarly harsh in how close you need to be for it to stagger bosses but I don't mind that quite as much. it's still frustrating when I miss the stagger but it feels less like an issue of consistency and more of personal skill/timing/positioning. I think the pile bunker's harshness for measure annoys me because it feels like your ac should be able to just lunge or boost at the enemy when they do the charged attack like they do with the normal/light attack or the laser lance

(also I pretty much never use pulse or assault armour because I keep forgetting I have them and don't normally need them (so far I've only felt like they were necessary against ibis and the FoR boss. and with the FoR boss that's only with my pile bunker+laser lance build because it's nowhere near as tanky or consistent in damage as my other builds))

the laser lance sometimes does a weird thing where the charged attack hits the enemy with the first thrust but either doesn't catch/drag them along with it or catch you on the enemy during it so you just fly past them and the second attack doesn't hit them at all and you end up in a stupid spot (often floating in the air). it's annoying on the FoR boss fight but it feels especially stupid when it happens during the sea spider what with how big the thing is.

also I still don't get why the button prompts in the assembly menu and whatnot don't let you click on them to do what the key it represents does but if you click the wrong thing in the pause menu during a mission (say, restart mission instead of restart from checkpoint), you can't press escape to close the "are you sure" popup.

none of this is to say the game's bad or anything — it's still probably one of my favourite games I've ever played — but these issues do make the game more frustrating than I think it needs to be, and not in a way I think adds much value

I am still going to finish ng+ and do ng++ and get everything in the game though

also here's the build I used for the FoR boss (I should probably have swapped the laser lance for a pulse blade or something but oh well)

[loominggaia]

Weird question I just thought of but hear me out....ok so demons normally ask ugly neck beards for sex but what if a hot person asked a demon?? Would they say yes or??

lol good question! I think the demon would most likely say yes, and here's my reasoning why...

First I have to mention that demons don't specifically target "neckbeard" types. They're attracted to anyone who is sexually frustrated, and yeah, there are probably a lot of neckbeards in that camp, but actually just about anyone can be a target at some point in their lives.

The more desperate for sex a person is, the more attractive they are to a demon. Demons can sense this kind of desperation from miles away, and they will fly quite a long distance to feed on it.

Not all experiences are the same, but here's how it usually works: Demon senses target and stalks them for a while, learning their routine. Demon approaches target when they're alone and offers to take their "frustrations" away. Target either accepts or refuses.

If they refuse, the demon simply moves on to the next target. If they accept, they just entered a deal they will probably regret. In this case, the demon will approach them regularly to "feed". This means the their victim has to please them on demand or face their wrath.

So, what happens when this system is reversed? What if a person who is not the least bit lonely or frustrated asks a demon for sex? First of all, I want to say that this scenario would be extremely rare, if it happens at all. Most people know better than to mess with demons, so only the very desperate would attempt it. And if they're that desperate, chances are good that the demon was targeting them anyway.

But hypothetically, let's say this did happen. Will the demon accept? I think in most cases, probably so. It's a free meal, after all. This is a good deal for the demon! But I could also see the demon refusing if they've just fed recently. You know when you eat too much at dinner and you just have to lie down for a few hours? Yeah...that. Peoples get food comas, demons get sex comas.

Let's say the demon accepts though. This is not such a good deal for the person, who might have just earned themselves an annoying and potentially dangerous stalker; one who may demand sex at inconvenient times and get volatile if they're refused because they're hangry. Only a really ignorant or short-sighted person would approach a demon like this.

Honestly, I would compare this to eating an old slice of pizza out of the trash...The starving, penniless beggar might be willing to risk illness later to sate their hunger now, but why would a rich person even entertain the thought? It'd just be silly. Likewise, I can't see many well-adjusted people prepositioning demons for a good time when there are so many better, less dangerous options available to them.

But it's an interesting idea nonetheless! And hey, maybe it's not as uncommon as I think, because like George Carlin once said...

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

[ekho-ekho-ekho]

So come to find out, if more than a few of your joints bend backward more than a teeny tiny bit, that probably means you have a hypermobile disorder even if you’ve never (to your knowledge) dislocated anything.

Who knew?

Certainly not me! And very definitely no one I know irl . . . which makes it kind of frustrating to talk about this when my friends and family are so used to the idea that I’m “out of shape” because I “hate exercise” and yet still get to be “thin for no reason.”

Look, I get that fatphobia is difficult to live with and makes it hard to buy clothes and feel good about yourself — but also so many people who struggle with their weight have internalized the “Thin = Healthy” brainworms to such an extent that, if I mention that living in my body is in fact deeply unpleasant, most people I know, most of the time, will openly laugh at me for saying so. Whatever, your joints are backwards, so what? What does that really affect in your life? At least you can find clothes in your size.

That kind of thing hurt even before I knew why my body was so weird in so many little ways. And now that I DO know why, it’s making me flat-out angry. And I have to keep reminding myself that most people just don’t think about their joints very often — hell, I’ve known about hypermobility disorders for years and STILL didn’t realize I had one, because I didn’t think about my joints much, either. It’s hard to even recognize the problem until you see a direct, side-by-side comparison of how a “normal” body holds itself together vs how yours doesn’t.

That said, I’m still annoyed.

So, if you don’t have hypermobile joints and you don’t quite understand why they’d be a persistent issue for someone, I’d like to ask your help with a demonstration.

If at all possible, stand up for a bit. Yep, just stand normally, feet a little less than shoulder-width apart. Try to hold regular-good posture. Pretend you’re at a wedding reception and there’s a photographer lurking about. Back straight, chin up, knees and shoulders at rest.

Now, hold up one hand, fingers together. About how wide is your palm, horizontally? Three-ish inches? Therabouts?

Okay, keeping that distance in mind, bend your knees forward about that far.

Got them bent? Alright, good. Posture check. Feel how bending your knees changed the way you’re holding your back/shoulders/ head?

Now: without unbending your knees — OR bending them any farther — correct your posture back to how it was before. Helps if you center your weight over your heels. Straight spine, chin up, shoulders back and relaxed. Poker face. You want nothing from the hips up to indicate any level of strain.

Do you have your phone, or a watch or something? Set an alarm and hold this position for two minutes. Make sure you keep track of what your knees are doing the whole time. Also your spine. Also your neck and shoulders. If you need a short rest, you can rock your weight forward to the balls of your feet for a second. If your arms start to feel heavy, try crossing them. But it’s vitally important that you do not let on in any way that this is uncomfortable for you. Come back when your two minutes are up.

...

Hi, you okay? Feeling a little shaky? Yeah you might wanna hydrate. Better? Okay cool — so you probably get where I’m going with all this, and some part of you might already be thinking, ‘Okay, well, I get the point, but that’s probably a little dramatic, I mean living with hypermobile joints can’t possibly be THAT bad.’

And you’re right! It’s way worse!

See, what you just experienced is how it feels to stand straight with hypermobile knees. When you started off standing normally, with your knees relaxed, that was comfortable because the ligaments holding your leg bones together were passively supporting your weight. You barely noticed. When *I* “relax” my knees, however, they bend backward about three inches — or, the full width of my hand — before my ligaments catch them. That throws all the rest of my balance out of whack. And since all the connective tissue between all of my joints is at least a little bit loose, that means everything I do to maintain my balance is then also compromised. My hips tilt forward, my spine goes into a deep arch, my feet flatten and collapse inward. Then my shoulders lock up from the effort of holding everything else (more-or-less) upright. You know Shaggy from Scooby-Doo? That’s what my version of “relaxed” posture looks like.

So, if I’m going to mimic “correct” posture (say, if I’m in a nice dress at a wedding reception), that means bending my knees forward a good three inches just to make them look “straight” and then leaning my weight ever-so-slightly backward to balance the whole tottering Jenga tower of my skeleton on an axis with my heels.

And that’s standing. That burn you feel fading in your thighs, in your calves, in your abdomen, in your back and wherever else right now — that’s how much effort a hypermobile person puts into just. Standing up straight for a couple minutes.

Now ask yourself: if standing “normally” is that much more difficult with hypermobile joints, involves that much compensation and constant adjustment . . . what must it be like doing anything else?

See the problem yet?

[fascinationex]

A little about Caltrop and Silica from Date Night, which is the Outsider POV fic in which Megatron and Starscream ruin their date.

I've been thinking about them a bit since. The setting of that fic is a post-war society in which the Decepticons and Autobots are living in relative, if tense, peace on a restored Cybertron. It was a poorly defined continuity soup so that's where they live!

Added a cut for length—

Caltrop is a long distance space hauler and Silica is a little motorbike.

Silica is like 500 years old and she's self-assured, self-confident, opinionated and pretty sweet. Caltrop was constructed during the very last days before the Cybertronian civil war really exploded, and some of her earliest work was in getting rich neutrals off the dangerously unstable planet—and then being sent back herself, of course.

Throughout the war, Caltrop has done logistical/supply work for the Autobots off and on, but she thinks that it's been more off than on so she's... basically a neutral, in her own view. (This is not always everyone's view—she's done some scary supply trips and OP would recognise her name (he remembers everyone).)

She admires Silica for being *so* forthright and certain, in part of because she (Caltrop) feels kind of beaten down by... everything, and like not much is really as certain as she'd have liked it to be. She recognises that part of Silica's attitude is because she is comparatively very young—and she certainly hasn't had the kind of life experiences Caltrop has, so she hasn't built up a lot of anxiety as a defence mechanism.

Caltrop often feels too big and clumsy for polite society, because she is of a large size class (being a space hauler). She's not really a glamorous build, and she feels keenly when seats are too small or too close together or the standard cube size is less than one fifth of her tank. Despite feeling too big to be allowed and seriously out of place a lot of the time, she still really enjoys being big enough to pick her partner up and haul them away from danger! She can also pick her partner up for. Other things. 👀

Silica is not a thoughtful person. Where Caltrop is perpetually noticing shades of grey, Silica takes information at face value, decides if it's good or bad, stamps it [GREAT] or [SHIT] in her head and rarely revisits it. She finds Caltrop frustrating and unadventurous sometimes, but she still likes her because she enjoys that someone so much older and more experienced thinks she's awesome. Must be true, right? She likes Caltrop's admiration probably a bit more than she likes Caltrop, if she's honest (she does not practice excessive self reflection, though—it's bad for you).

Silica is a courier by profession, which means she spends a lot of time going really fast and getting annoyed with traffic conditions that prevent her going real fast. She's a big fan of the recently reopened Pre-War Artefacts and Art Museum, which is a labyrinthine hodgepodge of cultural and historical stuff that predates the civil war on Cybertron ("Wow," she says to Caltrop. "It's older than you!" Thanks, Silica.) It's not an unbiased collection, but she doesn't really think about that stuff—she just loves a lot of the old holos and the art and, unf, the filigree. Could Silica get filigree? She wants this.

I think this relationship is not destined to last. They don't have that many interests in common, and each of them is using the other more as a buttress for a weak sense of identity than because they really like each other—although they both are perfectly pleasant people and aren't, like, mean about it.

But I would really like to write them going back to the museum and running into megastar there again. Maybe Silica overhearing Megatron's incredibly cynical perspective on the displays can catalyse their break up.

[redpenship]

jumper (2/14)

Sand is not kind to Shadow's air shoes.

For the sixteenth time that day, he is thrown violently into the desert floor after too much sand slipped into his shoes' jets and stopped their propulsion. He rolls once, twice, until he comes to a stop in the scorching sand.

With a hiss, he scrambles to his feet and shakes the sand out of his fur. All of this is terrible. Those stupid motherfuckers at the colony are going to pay for dumping him out here to die.

Don't they know killing him is really hard? If he were as fragile as everyone else, he probably would've kicked the bucket a long time ago. Does his existence as the Ultimate Lifeform mean nothing to them?

Whatever. He's sure that they'll realize the error of their ways when he returns to kill them all.

After an hour or so of walking, he finds a rock formation flat enough to sit on. Some of it is covered by the shade of a boulder, so he might even be able to rest out of the sun for a bit! How lucky.

Once he's settled in, he takes off his air shoes and carefully cleans the sand from the jets. The process takes at least twenty minutes per shoe. Really, it might be worth walking the rest of the way if it means he won't have to clean out his shoes twice an hour. He'll reach the colony later than planned, but at least he'll be less frustrated by the time he gets there.

He straps his feet back into his shoes, and then hears a sonic boom in the distance.

Oh, now isn't this just perfect.

He follows a cloud of kicked up sand with his eyes as Sonic approaches his location. Like usual, it takes no time at all for the blue hedgehog to get there.

Sonic skids to a stop next to him. He pants with exhaustion and looks at the sky with apprehension. "The sun is really killer these days, huh?"

Shadow gives him a level look. "You could say that."

In a stupid gesture, Sonic feigns wiping sweat off his forehead and then finally meets eyes with Shadow. It's stupid because hedgehogs sweat through their bellies. Why bother even going through the motion if it has no benefit?

"Whew! Anyways, long time no see." Sonic breaks eye contact to survey the area. "Is it really like this everywhere? I thought the colony people were lying when they said the whole world was a desert."

"They're telling the truth. The world fucking sucks."

For a moment, Sonic looks like he wants to say something. He seems to decide against it with a small shake of his head, then awkwardly leans back on his heels. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks again.

"Are you going to kill them?" Sonic asks. He says it casually, with the levity of someone inquiring about another person's weekend plans.

Shadow raises an eyebrow at the question. "Will you stick around long enough to stop me?"

Sonic clicks his tongue and puts a hand on his hip. "You're not allowed to ask me that."

No matter how important the rules of their interactions are, they can be pretty annoying. "Fine. Then yes, I do plan to kill them. They deserve it."

He wonders how Sonic feels about it. If he met the same colonists that Shadow did, then he would know all about their post-apocalyptic slave empire. He would also know that Shadow had been banished after attempting to destroy them.

Sonic probably has very strong thoughts about that colony. Perhaps those thoughts carry more weight than his personal ethical philosophy.

Like usual, Sonic does not make these feelings known. He simply nods and says, "Yeah, okay."

Shadow gives him a once-over, then stares at him for so long that Sonic becomes visibly uncomfortable. Still, he does not let up. There is something about this situation that feels wrong. There is something missing.

Finally, he finds it.

"You're a bad actor," he says with a smirk. Sonic's eyes widen a little in surprise. "You've gone farther than this before. This entire world is the result of a massive ecological disaster--a personal nightmare scenario for you, I'm sure. Shouldn't you be freaking out right now?"

Sonic groans. He holds up a hand. "Stop. Just--stop. You are breaking so many rules right now."

Still, Shadow pushes. "If you're going to do this, you need to get better at acting. You can't make it so easy for me to figure this stuff out."

"These are your rules too, Shadow." Sonic is now visibly frustrated; his arms are crossed over his chest and one of his ears twitches in annoyance. "You have to follow them as much as I do."

With a shrug, Shadow leans back and lays down on the rock. He closes his eyes and smiles. "Leave, Sonic. This isn't a good place for you."

It takes some time for Sonic to finally cave to Shadow's request. Without saying goodbye, he takes off in a cloud of sandy dust and disappears into the distance.

They don't really need to say goodbye. They will see each other again soon.

[getmemymicroscope]

One of the oldest movies I've watched (after Snow White, Bambi, Dumbo, The Gold Rush, and the Bollywood movie Kismet), but more to the point, very much (sort of) in line with that run of books/movies I had earlier that seems to try and give us the point of view of a criminal and, even more than that, this idea of guilt building-up until they break. This time, it happens almost immediately for one of our main characters - and not at all for the other; you can tell right away who is dealing with the reality poorly and who is, more likely than not, going to be the one who slips and gets him/them caught. And, sure enough.

I mean, our inquisitive "detective" (if you want to call him that) quickly picks up on the unusual behaviors of both men - though, as an audience that has only known them for the upwards of 30 minutes, we wouldn't pick that up until it is pointed out. But even he quickly realizes that one of them is closer to breaking than the other, and hones in there to ruin their dreams of getting away with a "perfect crime."

I've said this before - and I don't doubt in the least that this would happen to someone, anyone, who did this sort of thing and had any sort of moral compass at all - but, like, it becomes a bit frustrating to watch (or read) because the morally correct (though, not too correct since they did commit a crime) character ends up just becoming frustratingly annoying to deal with. Like, Brandon is frustratingly creepy because he feels no remorse and, in fact, views himself as superior to everyone else; Phillip, meanwhile, is frustrating annoying pretty much from the start because clearly so aghast at what they've done. Like, why did he even go along with it - but that isn't something we find out, because all we get is a consecutive 80 minutes of their lives, from murder to end. Sure, they spout some philosophy during their celebratory party (maybe a preamble to the villain's 'bragging monologue to allow impending doom' of current day?), but mostly we just see one guy go around as if nothing is wrong and the other guy go around as if nothing is right. And, of course, the ego of one and the conscience of the other end up being their downfall.

Hitchcock was apparently experimenting with long 'single take' shots in this, which is obviously clear - we have multiple shots that just drag on and end by zooming into something, creating a moment of darkness before zooming back out to a different angle, and we also have that scene where a conversation essentially happens off screen while we watch Mrs. Wilson walk back-and-forth clearing off the table and the chest (and, also, we get the view of half of Rupert's back). It's interesting, but clearly it didn't really catch on much (probably for good reason).

The movie doesn't really get into the psyche of our characters, aside from trying to show us that it does exist and that everyone deals with it differently, which makes sense - it would be hard to do much exploration of that in 80 minutes. We just see from a distance as it causes things to fall apart, but you walk away wondering what exactly damned them more - a weak psyche or a large ego?

The movie also sorta caused me to flashback, just slightly, to the much more recent movie Candlestick - and not just because the titles of both movies are murder weapon options in the game Clue (though, admittedly, that is why I watched this movie). That one, with a much less famous starcast/director, also featured a main character who committed a murder (alone, and for a different reason, admittedly) and then hosted a get-together (I think it was more of a dinner there, as opposed to a planned party here) - and I guess that makes sense, given that the director of that movie cited Rope as an influence for his film.

It's not Hitchcock's best/most famous work, and the filming method does take a minute (or 80) to get used to, and both Brandon and Phillip (and Rupert, even, if we're being honest) are sorta grating, but the story isn't that poorly told overall. I think it just suffers from having to have a character breakdown immediately, just so that the progression from "perfect" to "caught" in 80 minutes can be achieved somewhat reasonably.

Like the novel Malice Aforethought (and others, I'm sure), this breakdown is sorta caused by accidental coincidences (someone mistaking another guest at the party for the man whose body is hiding in the chest, for example) and harmless statements interpreted as harmful by a fragile, breaking mind - and once it's started, it becomes very easy for an apparently super-smart Rupert to figure out something is up. And by pure chance he happens across the one piece of evidence he really needs to tie it all together (see what I did there?; though, admittedly, it is a stretch of a pun since the piece of evidence and the rope are two different things), and combined why a seemingly benign statement about the rope around a bunch of books, he is able to piece it together.

Don't do murder!

[nevereverlandboys]

Different Pulses 

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: After Pan gets defeated, Y/N and Felix live together in Storybrooke with the "heroes". They both don't get along and seem to avoid each other, until the "heroes" need to leave them alone to save Henry from another threat. Will Y/N get along with the cold, distant boy?

Part: (1/?)

@madd-devil

This story is heavily inspired by "When it's cold" by:

@the-original-weirdo-83

@peter-pan-on-neverland

Y/N's eyes wandered through the small room, from the small bed to the huge window, stopping at the small drawer underneath it, before finally stepping further in. The walls were dyed light blue and besides a big clock and a flat screen they were empty. There was nothing unusual with this room, nothing really striking and yet it still felt a little strange. She walked forwards and ripped the dark curtains away, opening the window to welcome the golden sunlight into the room, warming her skin. The air smelled different and even the birds chirped in another tune. It seemed as if this world was quieter than the other, less dangerous and more welcoming. For a moment Y/N was soaked into the moment and drifted off into her thoughts, as suddenly some cursing in the next room ripped the girl out of her thoughts. With an annoyed snarl, she rolled her eyes and let herself drop onto the small bed, trying to ignore the sounds that probably came from the grumpy former second in command. After all, he still did not like being taken from Neverland, as he found himself with Y/N in a new home in Storybrooke. He still did not fit in and fought with everything he had to integrate. The second in command was stubborn and feisty, hot-tempered and constantly in a bad mood. Felix had barely granted Y/N a smile since they came off the Island and after he was brought into Mary Margaret's and David Charmings flat, everything went worse. The lost boy usually locked himself up inside his room, stayed there until after dinner to grab himself the leftovers, before vanishing back behind the wooden door. He never seemed to understand the technology around him, not even trying to understand it, but getting angry instead if it did not work out like he had imagined it to.  Y/N on the other hand, found herself in a healthy relationship with her hosts real quick. They took it as their own responsibility to take both of them in, after Pan was defeated. Felix, because he was the most stubborn boy that would never find his peace in an orphanage and Y/N, because she was the only girl next to Wendy that lived with the lost boys. After all this time on the island, she found herself being close to Henry as well. The small, young boy was like a little brother to her, making the girl laugh and joining her whenever Mary Margaret would allow them to go out. She was a careful woman and even though she trusted Y/N, there was no reason for her not to be cautious. Also Y/N suspected Mary  not to act like granting the girl a privilege while Felix was still being guarded. 

Another loud yell from behind those walls disturbed the girls' peaceful daydreams once more, so she grabbed the pillow and pressed it over her head to muffle all the sound, trying her best to ignore everything around. It was a day too pretty for this and Y/N only wanted to relax, but not a few minutes of delightful silence later, she heard a knock on the wooden door. Moving her body properly under the sheets, she faced the door and mumbled just loud enough,"Come in."

The door swung open and revealed the former second in command's worried face, his sweaty hair hung down his face and he breathed so loud that the girl could literally feel anger flooding in the room. The atmosphere turned immediately tense and the room seemed to shrink around her with each second passing. Y/N held her breath and raised one eyebrow in confusion, trying her best to hide her insecurities behind a questioning look, as the lanky, blonde boy's eyes pierced her urgently. 

"Where is the little rat?" Felix spoke in a hoarse tone. 

"The ra-" She started confused. "Oh."

Henry.

"He took my cloak." Felix raged. "Where is the bastard, so I can smite him!"

"It's in the laundry." Y/N interrupted him before Felix would even try to hurt Henry and give him the fault for her doings. She found it in the bathroom and washed it along with the other laundry. The girl's voice was almost inaudible, well knowing the boy's temper from all the countless encounters with the other lost boys. Felix's eyes twitched and he gritted his teeth as he slowly came closer, one step after another, to close the distance that kept her away from him, the only distance that gave the girl at least a little bit of comfort. Henry could be glad to have to spend the time with the grumpy lost boy on weekends only. How much she envied him.

"What?" He snarled with his face just a few centimeters away from hers and for a moment her mind went blank, the only impulse she felt was to storm out of the room. As she crashed to the door, Y/N did not even bother to look back and swiftly grabbed her shoes and keys before leaving the apartment.  The door swung shut with a loud crash that echoed through every room as Felix swayed back in his own room, every cell inside him questioning why his heart felt so heavy. Y/N was not even sure if the lanky boy bothered to chase after her and if her actions seemed a little exaggerated, but when Felix built himself up in front of her, the girl's heart sank into the bottom of her body and fear overtook her mind. The former lost boy had been cruel to other boys for less than that.

She did not stay out for long, simply walked around the block to get some fresh air and to get some space from the tall boy. Also, because she knew that Mary would be mad if she was not home when the woman returned. The first week did not start well and Y/N let out a frustrated sight as she thought of the future. Mary and David left her alone with him half of the day, having the boy locked up in his room was not consoling though, the fact alone that he was present was enough to make her feel nervous. When she returned to the apartment, Felix was nowhere in sight, so she quickly snuck back into her room, hoping that he would leave her alone for the rest of the day. On the other hand, she had to make sure that he would not hurt Henry, the poor boy did nothing wrong. For a moment Y/N hesitated until she decided to get Felix's cloak from the washing line on the balcony. Not a surprise that the asshole did not know it was there, when he never left his room. Still, the girl felt a little curious when she thought of what he might do all day by himself- especially with no understanding of technology. Was he not bored? There was no convincing answer that she could think of and Y/N wondered if she would find out as she strutted with the big cloak in her hands towards Felix's room. She  knocked at the door and immediately regretted it after the previous events. Nevertheless she tried to be brave and push her fear aside, telling herself that the former second in command was not threatening at all.

She knocked again when nothing happened and suddenly some angry footsteps stomped into her direction-, firm and loud, before the tall boy ripped the door wide open, revealing his furious face.

"What the fuck do you want?" Felix growled, the veins of his neck throbbing and his hands pressed so tightly into fists that his knuckles turned white. 

"I-...eh." Y/N stammered nervously and tightened her grip onto the cloak. Her eyes widened as she thought, He would not hurt me, would he? "I have your-"

"Keep that!" Felix interrupted her, his words were like poison.

Felix slammed the door shut before  the girl could say another  word, leaving her in the dark hallway with an unsettling feeling inside her guts that something was wrong. But how could she even tell what? Felix never spoke to her that much and it was pretty obvious that he would not do more in the future. All Y/N knew was that the grumpy boy missed the island and that he missed Pan, even though the girl never understood his obedience to the green devil. Peter Pan was manipulative and evil and she was glad he never left Neverland alive. Felix couldn't give her the fault for his loss, she had never helped the heroes and even refused as the only one next to him to say a word. Well, Y/N opened up quicker and befriended the "heroes" after everything they did. It was a saint if she could speak freely about it. The cloak must mean a lot to Felix, or else he would never be this angry, even for a boy who had a tendency to violence-, he never hurt Y/N before. She really hoped he would take it back and overcome his rage. The idea that Felix might only looked for a reason to hate Henry more occured her a few minutes later, but it was an unspoken thought that seemed to be way too assumptious.

"I am sorry about Peter." She moved her forehead onto the wooden door, resting it there for a bit and after a while she watched a single tear drop down onto the ground. Peter was not completely evil, not to Y/N at least and deep inside he was a loss to her as well. There was a short time where Felix seemed to be nice too, back on Neverland just weeks before Peter got defeated. He had shown the girl a flower field and tickled her until some boy's would crossy their way and disturb that lovely moment. It was the first and only time he had ever been close in a comforting way. Since then, Y/N had always hoped to see the boy underneath this rusty shell, but it was all gone since the second he stepped off the boat.

The door stayed closed and she stared at Felix's cloak, wondering what to do with it. When Y/N returned to her own room and snuck underneath the covers, the cloak was still under her arm. It did not smell like Felix anymore. The ticking of the clock was the only sound filling the room, capturing the girl's eyes to check the time- six pm. It was late, almost time for Mary Margaret to come back from work and cook some dinner, and when it was time for Y/N to sleep, David would come home too and Emma would come tomorrow, to bring Henry over for the weekend. Y/N barely saw David. He was always busy with his work in the police station and would get home late in the night. He left Felix and her up to Mary and Emma, which was definitely a hard task thinking of the rebellious boy next to Y/N's room. The man could not stand the former lost boy, the girl had seen it in his eyes when Emma brought her onto the ship, back then,  from escaping Neverland. Felix's emotions seemed mutual and everyone around could sense it. That both of them were separated most of the time, was not so bad after all. Mary Margarett even tried to take it as an opportunity to get to know more about the former lost boy, but all her attempts failed. The boy kept shut, would not reveal his past and barely replied to any of the woman’s actions. It was tiring to watch, quite a show though. It seemed like a boring game of charade, in which Mary kept asking him countless questions and then tried to interpret his annoyed growls as he ate some cereal. Breakfast was a strict rule for him to join and dinner to avoid. 

Y/N rolled over and grabbed her phone, turning some music on to change her thoughts and kill the silence. Even though it was so early, she felt how her eyelids were getting heavy, how she slowly drifted off into sleep, using the cloak as a pillow. Throwing it away was not an option for her, there could always come a time where the former lost boy would demand it back. 

It felt like a whole night when the girl woke up from a strange feeling of someone pulling on something underneath her. Out of reflex, she tightened the grip on the cloak in her arms. The pulling got stronger and when she realised that this was not a dream, she slowly opened her tired eyes.

"I changed my mind." Felix scoffed. "I want it back."

With a mind still dizzy and drunk from sleep, Y/N's sight was still so blurry, that it was hard to catch up and she needed a moment to follow the lost boy's words. He obviously meant the cloak, but why did he make such a fuss about it when he did not want it in the first place? 

"Y/N?" He pronounced her name so carefully when he realised her eyes were closing again. She did not respond. 

The sound of Felix's knees hitting the floor startled the girl out of sleep, finding herself sitting bolt upright in bed, pressing the cloak with widened eyes tightly against her chest. He let out an amused chuckle, grinning from ear to ear. Being fully awake now, Y/N realised why the tall boy was here and she slowly reached her hand forward, handing the boy his cloak over. What the hell did he do in the middle of the night inside her room? Why could this not wait? Her eyes wandered to her phone on the small nightstand-, it was eight pm and winter. It caused the girl to genuinely laugh to herself.

"Sorry for washing it." She whispered meek, avoiding Felix's gaze and dropped her head back onto the pillow before turning  away from him to close her eyes. 

"It's all right." With that Felix quickly made his way back to his own room, the door closing so quick as if he had run.

The next day he kept quiet, did not say a word at breakfast, not even a snarky comment towards Henry who was constantly talking about one of his favourite movies and its heroes. The word 'hero' usually was enough to make the former lost boy explode. Not this time. His steel like eyes were glued onto his bowl as he ate in silence. Later he would sit in the living room, watching some TV that Henry forgot to turn off and would not even complain when Y/N joined and switched the channel. For a moment she felt his eyes burning on her skin. When she met his gaze, the former lost boy rose to his feet and walked away, slamming his door to confirm he was in his room now. Felix was strange and not the friendliest boy for sure. Still, Y/N had the feeling that there was more behind his behaviour that he would let her on and that he exaggerated an act. Mary would give her some tasks over the time like getting the groceries, which she would really appreciate doing, since it was a great way to get out. Y/N and Felix were no prisoners of course and the cold of the thick snow creeping in from the outside would keep her under her covers anyway. There never has been snow on Neverland. It was entirely strange and yet so familiar, waking a nostalgic feeling inside the girl. When Y/N found her way to the grocery store, there was no one to harm her and she had all the time she needed to wander through the different Isles and shove anything she liked into the shopping cart. There were no lost boys with spears and torches, that would hunt the girl down until her feet would bleed. No Pan that played his dangerous, manipulative games, that only entertained him in a twisted, sadistic way,  satisfying him, that it could already be a kink. 

It was freedom. 

The good snacks from the store disappeared immediately inside the drawer, keeping it safe from Henry or Felix. Both had the tendency to steal Y/N's food. She would often cook for herself, learning new skills since there was nothing else to do anyways. As soon as Mary returned, the girl hoped she would bring some more groceries, but she got disappointed. The snow held her off too long, the mood to go into the supermarket was simply gone and Y/N could understand that.

"You can go with Henry." She smiled and grabbed herself something to drink from the fridge. 

"When will he be here?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow as she waited for an answer. The short haired woman slowly turned around, her face seemed to be frozen in an unbelieving, perplexed and slightly fearing frown.

"Isn't he here alr-" She stopped and both of their heads shot into the same direction when a key was put inside the front lock, turning and unlocking the door. The girl expected the young boy to get home, instead, Emma stormed into the apartment, shortly followed by David and the girl already saw on their faces that something was wrong. Mary let go of what she was doing and closed the distance between them with quite some concern on her face.

"They took Henry!" Emma bursted out, her eyes searching the room as if her son could just hide somewhere and would just magically appear any moment. She looked full of hope. David gently rubbed her back and told Mary to get her things. They always seemed to find trouble and now Y/N finally understood what Felix meant, when he once claimed that their hero being was only a facade and they were the true danger. Were they? Henry was gone and that was because he was so important to these women.

"Who took him?" Y/N asked worriedly.

"Stay out of this, you are not a part of this." Emma ignored the question and  gently shoved the former lost girl out of her way to get her keys. She ripped the door wide open and jumped down the hallway without bothering to close it, expecting the others to follow quickly. 

"We will get Henry back." Mary turned to Y/N, trying to comfort her by holding her hands. "You don't have to worry."

It was not the young boy she worried about and the short haired woman knew that. With a quick glance back to Felix's closed door, Y/N gulped and immediately shook her head.

"I can come with you!" She protested at the thought of being all alone with the former second in command.

"No," Mary said and sighted. "I need you here."

Her gaze wandered off to Felix's door again and her look grew frustrated. Y/N followed with her eyes and nodded before facing the short haired woman again. She turned to the counter and grabbed her purse to pull out her wallet.  Then she collected all the money she had and put it in a sugar box inside the shelf. 

"I trust you enough." Her words meant a lot. "Besides, once in a while Regina will check up on you two."

With that, Mary Margaret turned around and gave David a final nod, before both of them left the apartment to join their daughter in the car. As soon as Y/N closed the door behind them, everything went into an uncomfortable silence. There was no single sound instead of the unbearable striking of the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. 

"Great." Y/N moaned quietly. At least they could have told her who took Henry and for what possible reason. The adults would always seem to know better and in this case they decided it would be better to keep Felix and her out of this. Did they really want to leave her out of it, or was Y/N just not to be trusted? Felix would easily try to convince her about that. The former lost boy probably would not  care  at all. It was smart of Mary Margaret to hide some money for Y/N. The fridge was almost empty and she wondered how long they would be away and when she would need food. There was nothing good inside it, nothing appealing, so  Y/N closed the door and strutted back to her room. Dropping into the sheets, she grabbed the remote next to her pillow and turned on the TV. Henry had shown her how to use it real quick as he often joined the girl to play video games. All those years living here and using all these things caused him to always be smarter and it was the first thing Y/N noticed that Felix disliked about him. At the end, there were countless things the scarred up boy hated, but Henry was always the center of his anger. 

With the time passing by, the rumbling in the girl's stomach got louder until her tummy literally screamed for something to eat. Back in the kitchen, there was still nothing  appealing and with a quick glance to Felix's wooden door, she wondered if the former lost boy would like to eat something too. Each step further towards his room felt more heavy and Y/N's stomach turned inside out. The moment her knuckles knocked against the cool wood, she questioned why she even tried to be nice and get along with him. The floor was cold, maybe she should have put on some socks or turned on the heater. There was no sound on the other side of the wood and Y/N started to wonder if Felix was even home, when suddenly some heavy footsteps slowly strutted closer. Felix swayed the door wide open and rubbed his tired eyes, then rested his heavy head on the doorframe. He only wore some grey sweatpants, revealing his scars on his pale chest. The air around the girl thickened and her body heated up at the sight of his messy, sweaty morning hair. 

"Sorry." She mumbled and avoided looking at him. His presence alone caused shivers to run down her spine. "Did I wake you?"

"M-hm." Felix grumbled tiredly, fighting to keep his eyes open. Y/N's eyes wandered back to the open kitchen and its clock. It was four o'clock.

"Are you hungry?"

The tall boy remained silent for a moment, his dull eyes staring at the girl as if he did not understand the question, turned to look at his bed, then slightly nodded with his head as if it was the hardest thing to do.

"I could eat." He spoke with a deep, raspy voice, laying his focus back onto Y/N. Fuck, he sounded so hot, it caught her off guard and left her unable to speak for a glimpse moment. 

"I am ordering food." She said after a small moment. "What would you like?"

Felix pressed his brows together, then lifted one in confusion. "How does that work?" He asked and Y/N chuckled in amusement, feeling how her stiffened limbs relaxed. 

"You choose a restaurant and then decide what you want to eat." She explained and showed the blonde boy her phone. "They deliver it and you pay."' 

"Ah."

Y/N were not sure if Felix was not understanding it, or simply did not like it. He brought his hands up to his arms and rubbed the scarred skin, feeling how cold it was and finally bothered to put on a T-shirt. If Y/N were honest with herself, she liked Felix's exposed back. Muscles danced under tender flesh, as arms stretched upon the ceiling, forward and crooked together, pulling the cotton over his chest. Back on Neverland, Felix always seemed to be violent and rough, harsh to others and never in a good mood. There has not changed much, yet the dangerous, threatening touch was missing since he came to Storybrooke with Y/N. He was bent to new rules now. 

"Pizza." Felix said and stepped closer, closing the distance and bent down to take a glimpse of the menu. "Do they have some?"

Y/N's skin started to prickle when she felt his breath against her cheek and immediately froze in place. Why was he so close? 

"You know Pizza?" She asked unsure, still a little curious. Felix smirked and let out a husky chuckle. "Sure I do."

He walked past her into the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, gulped it down, filled another one, gulped it down, but when he repeated that for a third time, the second in command could not finish it and disposed of the remains in the sink.  He turned around to check the time and widened his eyes as he realised how late it already was.

"The days are dark during winter." The boy mentioned with a side-along gaze, as if he knew that she might have criticised him for sleeping that long. Y/N did not know how to respond, but was confident enough to join the tall boy in the kitchen, pulling the chair back and taking a seat at the table. Both of them did not say a word and with each second passing in silence, she regretted sitting there with him even more. 

"Why did you run from me earlier?" The question caught her off guard, she needed a moment to think for the right answer. The girl tilted her head in Felix's direction, his eyebrows were lifted up in a questioning look and he leaned at the counter, waiting for the girl to open her mouth and speak.  He was just curious, not too gruff nor angry. 

"You scare me sometimes." Y/N admitted. "It's like being back in Neverland."

The former lost boy nodded disappointed and shifted his gaze out of the window to hide half of his features as if she would ever be able to read them.

"You really did not like the Island." The boy stated, receiving a light nod as an answer. "Was it so bad?"

"There were no toilets."

Felix could not help but chuckle, a warm genuine smile spread over his face and he nodded his head in agreement when he faced her again. 

"Toilets sure are great." He laughed. "Or warm running water."

Felix pushed himself away from the counter and slendered over to the girl, taking a seat on the chair in front of her. "It took me three days to find out how that works, by the way." He added after a small pause. Y/N could only shake her head in response and give him a brief smile. "Must have been cold."

The tall boy agreed in silence and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for the food to arrive. He would disappear for a while to go to the bathroom, giving her some space to clear her mind. All she could think about was how beautiful the former second in command looked when he smiled, making her nervous the longer he stayed with her. For a moment, it seemed like he was another person when she was all alone with him. 

"Where are the others?" Felix asked when he returned from the bathroom, pulling the chair around to straddle it. 

"Someone took Henry." Y/N admitted low, not even wanting him to know that, well aware that he would only mock this situation, probably having expected such a thing sooner or later. 

"Hm.’' Felix let out an amused chuckle and gave her a winning smirk, one that said,"Told you so!"

"We're on our own for a while." The girl said, checking her phone for a message from the delivery guy. Not long. Almost here. How the time had passed by.

"I am  fucking happy they are gone." Felix snorted and rolled his eyes."They were such a pain in the ass."

At least they gave him a home and clothes, food and no worries about his current life. That was something and even though Y/N knew how beautiful the Island could be, the former lost boy had not been safe there. None of them were. How could he still be so blinded after all? Y/N wanted to respond but decided to keep her mouth shut. Right at that moment the doorbell rang. Shifting from her seat, Y/N strutted over to the door and opened it, waiting a few moments for the delivery guy to get up the stairs and hand her the Pizza. She pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it over to the man before closing the door. The boxes felt hot on her cool hands and the smell of fat, cheese and pepperoni filled the room, making the girl realise how hungry she actually was. Felix's stomach started to rumble when she started to cut her Pizza, so she assumed he did not have any breakfast either. For a moment the girl really enjoyed the boy's company and hoped he would stay longer, but she was also sure that he would take his food and vanish as quickly as he used to do. Yet, Felix never ceased to amaze her. He waited in silence until she was done cutting, then he took the knife and in that moment her fingers touched his, she felt  a quick, electric sensation followed by butterflies rumbling in her stomach. Taking the Pizza, she quickly strutted into the direction of your room to hide her sudden joy, just to be stopped by Felix calling her name.

"Where are you going?"

"Into my room?" Y/N gave confused back ,wondering why he would want her to accompany him all of the sudden.

"Oh- I thought…" Felix sounded disappointed.

"Oh…" Her eyes widened and maybe she sounded a bit too harsh. "I thought you wouldn't want-"

"Nevermind." Felix barked harshly and swiftly vanished behind his own door, not even giving the girl a chance to say another word. Damn, this boy was so sensitive, his mood was constantly switching and Y/N wished to find out why he was always  so pessimistic about everything. Not now, she thought, not now. First she would eat, then she would take care of that matter. 

The boy let out an annoyed sight when he opened his door after Y/N knocked not long after she finished eating. Felix was eating the last slice of his pizza and held the empty box in his other hand.

"Why are you always coming to me?" He snarled.

"I just care about you! For god’s sake! You act so fucking mean since we came here and I wonder why." She raised her voice and knitted her eyebrows together in a serious manner

"Please don't do this." Felix moaned theoretically. "Please don't act as if you cared!"

Felix swiftly turned around and threw the empty box of Pizza aside. His fast movements caused her to flinch a little, but still she managed to remain calm.

"You don't care!" He snarled. "Nobody cares. Just leave me alone."

The tall boy did not need to turn around and give her a final glare, he made it clear that she was not wanted and no matter how much he needed her help, she respected his wishes. Y/N had really no thought to waste about him when she went straight into the bathroom to take a bath that might cool her nerves. That fucking audacity and this childish behaviour, as if Felix really meant what he was saying. They both knew he was not serious and that he was simply lying to himself about his emotions. There was no place for love in his heart after being manipulated by Pan for so long, nor  for friendship. Y/N did not care what the former second in command told himself about their friendship, it all has been a lie and a game for Pan, something to entertain him. It was worthless. His loss meant nothing, still Y/N cared how Felix felt about the betrayal of every former boy.

While she stripped off her clothes, the girl waited for the bathtub to be filled with hot water and bubbles, a metaphorical way to clean her thoughts when diving in. She should rather think about helping someone out and earn some money, so she could afford buying her own things. She splashed the water with her fingers and slowly sank deeper into the bathtub to enjoy the silence. The hot steam filled the room and when her thoughts drove off to something pleasantly, she almost forgot the time. Back in Neverland there was nothing to worry about time, the days were almost all the same and no one was there to rush someone. Things have barely changed in Storybrooke, since there was nothing to do for Y/N and the lanky lost boy, so they needed to find something to kill the time. 

It had been an eternity since the girl had taken a proper bath and maybe it was time to get out, but the hot water remained too tempting for her to step out. With a deep breath she closed her eyes and leaned back, as suddenly a door slammed shut, immediately telling her that Felix was leaving his room again. His slow footsteps definitely made their way towards the bathroom and Y/N realised that she did not lock the door. She did not really forget to lock the door, right? The girl could not recall it and to get out of the water, to check was too late, as she watched agonised how the door handle went down and the door swung wide open, causing her heart to skip a beat. The tall lost boy did not seem to notice her at first, but as soon as he entered the steamy room, Felix froze in place. His eyes widened and his face turned blank. For a long moment, they both stared at each other and Y/N felt relieved that she was at least covered by a thick foam of bubbles. 

"Fuck, sorry...I-" Felix stuttered through half open lips, as if the little sight of a girl's skin was enough to steal his voice. It gave Y/N her confidence back.

"I didn't mean to-" the boy still couldn't open his mouth while his gaze burned holes through her. It took him a moment, but suddenly Felix shook his head to ban whatever he was thinking about and shifted his eyes away, then turned on his heels to swiftly leave the bathroom. 

At least he could have closed the door, Y/N thought as she sunk deeper into the water in embarrassment. Fuck, how in the hell could she forget to close the door? At least he did not see anything, or did he? The whole situation left her frozen in place, unable to think clearly. Y/N did not even dare to step out of the water to close the door, so she just sat there, trying her best to calm down. After a while, the skin of her fingertips were already wrinkled up, leaving a rough touch on her softened skin and she finally thought about getting out of the bathtub. A long time  had passed, since Felix stepped into the bath and now the water was starting to get cold. The girl's eyes searched the room for a towel until she realised that she had washed them and now they hung in the living room. Fuck this shit.

"Felix!" She called him as loud as she could, but there was no answer. The boy did not respond until she called him again.

"What do you want?" His voice echoed through the hallway. She sounded unsure and intrigued. 

"I have a problem."

"Well now you have two." Felix yelled back.

Y/N frowned in confusion and lifted her head.

"How's that?"

"I ain't interested in your first problem."

She let out an annoyed sight and rolled with her eyes and brought her fingers to her forehead, running over her skin in a steady, relaxing movement. Why was he like that? Was it really necessary to always find a way for drama? 

"I don’t have a towel." She whined, hoping for him to bring her one. The grumpy boy did not respond again, an unbearable silence filling the apartment. Felix was there, the girl knew that he was. He had not shut his door yet, so he must be in the living room or kitchen where he would perfectly understand you.

"Felix…" She called him, already giving up that he would come and breaking her mind by finding a way to get past him. "Please."

A few seconds later she heard his footsteps come back again, the wood creaking under his weight and announcing the boy’s arrival. He did not even enter the room, instead Felix threw the towel through the open crack.

"I need to take a piss, so please hurry up!" He said rather cowardly before the footsteps led him away, then shutting the door shut. Y/N did not hesitate and got out of the water as quickly as she could, barely drying her skin before she sprinted into her own room before the former lost boy would cross her way again. 

Why did such things always happen to her? Could it not have been someone else to walk in like Emma or Mary? Of course not, destiny always found a way to punish the girl,- first Pan, now Felix. Nevertheless, the cold boy stayed inside her mind all the time. She dressed herself and got ready to snuck under the blankets. For a while she allowed herself to dream of him cuddling against her back, how his big body would feel like pressed against hers, or maybe even… on top  of her?

NO.

Fuck no, she was not having dirty daydreams of mister cold facade. There was nothing special about Felix, right? Eventually that long scar that ran over his jagged jawline and those blue, stabbing eyes fascinated her. Those  piercing eyes, that were sharp as daggers and intimidating as the gaze of a shark. There was definitely something mysterious about the former second in command, still, Y/N had told herself that she was done with adventures and risky decisions- Felix was definitely one of those,- that she could tell. He was hot, but also the biggest asshole she ever met. The former lost boy kept wandering through the apartment and distracting the girl's dreaming thoughts with each passing second. He would not leave her mind until she fell asleep.

(Next Chapter ->)

[angstyantoinette]

Yandere!Howl Jenkins Pendragon x Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Slight NSFW [mention], kidnapping, manipulation, toxic relationships. 

We all know that Howl is very much a ladies man; he knows exactly how to pull women in, and captivate them so that they fall in love with him easily. 

For Howl, it’s all a game. He catches the eye of a girl, no interest on his part of course. She just happens to be in his line of the game. He knows what to say, how to present himself to perfectly fluster and simultaneously intimidate every other person there. He doesn’t venture outside the castle often, and when he does, there’s an air of fear; there’s such awe left in his wake. 

And he loves it. This drama queen feeds off it.

But we also know that Howl is a runner. He cannot commit to anything, hating the restricting nature of feeling tied down. I mean, he abandoned his apprenticeship. With this in mind, Howl makes the most unlikely yandere. But he actually is highly dangerous, although he doesn’t really look like it.

He’s afraid of himself in a way. He understands that he is quite powerful, and after practically going rogue, Howl gets his kicks with spontaneity, with the complete unexpected in life. 

When he meets you, he expects you to give him all your attention, like everyone else. But you brushed past him, looking at his fancy clothes, his blonde hair, sapphire eyes, green jewels swinging from his ears, and the beautiful pendant around his neck. He was picturing it now in his mind, getting ready for the look of adoration, the tense of muscles, the scarlet blush upon your cheeks.

But you looked away. You gathered your belongings, perhaps stowing them away in your satchel, and you just looked away.

What?

Is that it?

You weren’t even interested in him. Howl was still so stunned he had nothing to say, no suave and seductive voice to tempt you into his charms. He was in awe of you; you looked at him with such indifference it made his head hurt. Not with heartache or pain or anything like that. But he could not deny that he wasn’t curious.

Well, of course, not only does this not sit too well with Howl, he is very much a delusional person in this kind of state. However, he is incredibly smart and calculating and he balances these two personalities scarily very well. 

Like I said before, Howl is a very dangerous yandere, and he thrives on his blantant misinterpretation of a mere womanizer to scamper away, unsuspected, unscathed, and free to do what he likes.

Howl doesn’t really hold on to grudges that much, or anything; when he loses interest, he tosses things away. Not all though. 

You, you, YOU. 

Why won’t you leave his weary mind after days of being apart? Why is his  conciousness telling him to look for you, and not relent until he’s succeeded in doing so? Despite all the signs, all of the telltale signs that shows he’s just a little too invested in you, he writes it off as his bad habits resurfacing to play another game. 

And, of course, Howl Jenkins shall oblige!

Howl is a patient man, make no mistake. He finds it enjoyable to watch things go down for a while; no matter how trivial, poking fun in plain sight at innocent civilians never gets old. 

When he finally gives in to trying to find you and play with you for a little while, Howl pushes aside all distractions to do so. That means traveling through counties and villages, towns and cities until he’s found you again.

Howl is desperate for love and affection that isn’t because of his looks. He really wants someone to love him, not the image he puts across, not just above the surface with his tantalizing blue eyes that pull you in and trap you. 

You saw through that. You barely gave him a second glance and while it peaked his interest initially, it annoyed him for days on end. Usually being teasing and indifferent to Calcifer’s complaining, he found himself snapping and getting easily annoyed. Markl began to subtly keep his distance on bad days. 

Now, though, he’s become delusional. In Howl’s mind, you are to blame for his interest, for his inability to keep his mind off of you. You are the sole reason for his burgeoning obsession that seems to be running the show. He tells himself that when he finds you, it’ll leave. This painful, utterly agonising sensation of having you in his grasp, playing his game will go far away. He’ll seduce you, definitely, take you to bed and have a good time and his obsession and all-consuming desire to play the game, just you and him will just...go. Poof.

Except when Howl does find you, he doesn’t feel like letting go of you. 

Ever. 

And while this does take him by surprise, it all starts to make sense for him. 

Because looking at you now, bundled up in his arms, crying in anger and confusion, he sees in the stars that this was meant to be. 

He waits until he’s sure you’re asleep [more like passed out from exhaustion-] to really, really get a good look at you. He notices for the first time your cheeks and how they’re squished against his pillows and wrapped up in his sheets so perfectly, it’s like you’ve been here many times before. He notes how relaxed your closed eyes seem to be, no furrowed brow or scrunched tight eyelids; just complete and utter serenity. 

You’re just so perfect. Could you be a god, some kind of deity perhaps?

He’s in love for the first time in a long time. He may have let it slip by then, selfish and uncaring, but now?

Oh no, Darling, you don’t stand a chance. Howl will do anything to keep you hidden from those bastards’ eyes  protect you, to love you and most of all, make you see that he’s the one for you.

 Always.

You sat in the boiling water filling the bathtub, limp and tired, unresponsive as Howl bustled around you, his task completely focused on getting you ready for bed. Once upon a time, you would have refused to call him by name; instead you settled for ‘bastard’, ‘prick’, and ‘I hate you’. 

You even tried to sleepily mutter these things under your breath, not caring now that you were being lifted out of the bath, and dressed in a white gown. You cared even less when feeling your mind slip away into a soft sleep, curling into your body with comfort, clinging onto Howl’s pillows.

However, in front of his ‘housemates’ [ you could only guess what a talking fireplace could have to do with his wacky moving castle ], you were frightened. Howl didn’t even have to say a word; he had you smiling and  acting somewhat normally in front of ‘Calcifer’ and the little boy, Markl, you thought his name was. 

But you could always feel the sliver of magic take a hold of your wrists from behind, a little voice telling you that staying here was for your best interest, what more could you want? It promised you eternal love, devotion and affection, coated with a sickly sweetness only Howl could pull off. 

All in all, you stopped resisting after a while. Howl was annoyingly patient it seemed, and it frustrated you to feel as though you were a child all over again. He smothered you, insisting on doing the most trivial of things for you, never snapping back at you, never doing anything to remotely answer back at you in the same manner whenever you resisted his help.

It didn’t click until you had cursed at him mercilessly, screeching and crying, pulling at your combed hair, that by acting like this; he looked better than you. He looked above you. Compared to your tantrums, Howl looked calm and collected and completely willing to help you in any way possible. 

But why was he doing all of this? 

Why did you wake up in his bed, with his lanky arms draped all over you as if you were lovers? Why was he spoiling you, letting you wear his clothes, feeding you? What was he trying to convince you of? 

“Darling, I have some new nightclothes for you. Do you want me to help you into them?” He was slower, more gentle tonight as he strolled around his room. He was delberate though, not forceful exactly, but it was more of an atmospherical warning. You could just tell; if little Y/N tried anything, something would happen. 

Some kind of spell, or perhaps even a curse to teach you a lesson.

Ah, there it was. Another gift. 

Did he think you’d simply tolerate him because of his lavish, his blatantly excessive gift-giving?

Why did he look at you with such sickening adoration on his flawless features? 

At last, his bustling seemed to cease and he took a longing glace back at you. He probably only meant it to last a few seconds but the longer he gazed, it just became a cold and glassy stare. 

You knew the feeling of ‘zoning out’ well, but his eyes became darker and darker. Some kind of shadow must have passed over him or something, because he snapped out of his eerie trance and threw himself onto the bed. 

You yelped in surprise, pulling your hands to your sides, hastily spreading them out on the soft quilt like spiders, your legs pushing your body back ever so slightly, eyes wide. 

Howl chuckled, but it was filled with a sinister undertone that you weren’t used to at all. He snapped his head to the right, his hands already unraveling a silk-encased package. 

“I saw these while in the town today and couldn’t help myself.” 

Pulling out the brand new nightclothes, you unwillingly let out a pleased gasp. It was a set of matching pyjamas. They were satin, smooth to the touch and a beautiful shade of emerald, not too bright at all, but not dark either. 

Sometimes, you enjoyed this sort of treatment from Howl, albeit, very guiltily. He was always polite, courteous and kind, willing to help you with anything, but you also couldn’t help but feel a sense of horror, lingering long after you fell asleep. As if it were some kind of parasite. You just couldn’t for the life of you place your finger on it. 

You had learned to never keep him waiting for anything; he was a busy man and as much as he liked to have free reign of his work, he liked to be organised too.

This time you had apparently spent too long admiring your gift rather than answering him.

“Isn’t it lovely, Y/N? I thought it would suit you divinely.”

“Y-yes, it’s beautiful, thanks so much H-Howl.” 

Not wasting any more time, he sat up from his previous position on the bed, and somehow managed to gracefully snatch the nightclothes away from your trembling hands, and shooting you a look as if to say, well, take your clothes off. That was the less sinister version. Howl’s eyes took on a new darkness that growled, or I’ll do it myself. 

Your hands flew to your neckline, undoing the small ribbon that held the soft cotton on you, and allowed Howl to thread his fingers through the material, travelling towards the bottom of the garment and pulling it over your head whilst you lifted your arms, feeling the comfort of the soft sleeves peel off your arms. 

The blush on your face was unmistakeable. It was another embarassment being bathed by him, but this? Stripping you out of your clothes? It didn’t help that he was aware of your inner battle, and having an annoying, but otherwise barely noticeable smile on his face. 

His hand reached over with the satin nightclothes, urging you to take them. You did, carefully so, slipping them on against your flushed body, his cerulean orbs watching intensely. 

As if he didn’t want the image to go away. 

When you had finished dressing yourself, you stood up and  tentatively walked to the mirror, even slightly stumbling on your feet, and gasped in pleased surprise. You looked...beautiful in the nightclothes. The satin felt so smooth on your skin, and the emerald shade brought out your e/c eyes nicely. 

A few moments later though, you gasped for a whole different reason. Howl slipped his hands around the front of your torso, letting them wander further and further down, reaching your thighs with a renewed urgency, pressing you back against his body.

“I didn’t hear a ‘thank you’, darling.” His tone was teasing, but you could detect a hint of anger, annoyance was it? As quickly as the shadows came they departed, leaving you at the mercy of the wizard Howl. 

“No matter,” he rasped against the nape of your neck, placing soft, heated kisses against your skin,”You can say thank you, whilst begging on your knees.”

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

sorry about that ending, it just needed to come to an end before i drove myself mad with the procrastination :)

but what did you think of it?? there really isn’t enough Howl’s Moving Castle fics, let alone yandere ones, but i like how it came out. 

to the person who requested this, Howl, is 100000% the gentle dom we ALL NEED OKAY

[awkward-and-indecisive]

First Day Assistance.

Summary - Y/N is new on The Boys set, nervous and determined to do her job right until she meets Jensen Ackles and her mouth loses its filter so he decides to teach her a good lesson.

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Warnings - SMUT 18+, Unprotected sex (y’all are better than this), Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of fluff, Jensen in that damn Soldier Boy suit, this is just pure filth with no plot in sight

Word Count - 2547

A/N - Blame @msmarvelouswinchester for this and of course Mr. Jensen Snackles who I’m pretty sure wants to kill me. Apparently this is what she and I do, put thoughts into each other’s head until we can’t do anything but write them. Till three in the morning���🏽‍♀️

This was also Beta’d by @msmarvelouswinchester , so double thank you 😘

This is a work of fiction and for entertainment purposes. I don’t mean any harm to anyone in their family.

This is my first ever fic so please tell me what you think about it. FEEDBACK IS HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

Happy Reading!!!

*****

It was your first day on the set of The Boys and you were excited for this new opportunity. You had to start small with being a P. A. but now you were looking forward to working on the third season of such an amazing show. You were ready to work hard and were determined to make it big in the industry.

But all those plans flew straight out the window when you looked at Jensen fucking Ackles in his Soldier Boy suit looking like a sex god. You probably had stopped breathing and only inhaled sharply when you became a little lightheaded. Your thighs squeezed together, your pussy clenched and you could feel wetness pooling between your legs.

It was rather directly proportional - the dampness of your panties and the amount of time you looked at him. The more you stared at all the little details, the more wet you became. You knew it was highly unprofessional to have such thoughts about one of the leading actors but it was like your body had stopped listening to you and all the rational and moral thoughts had ceased to have any effect on you.

The way the muscles of his broad shoulders rippled underneath the spandex of his suit as he moved. The way the suit gave a little peek of his neck. The way his freckles shone through the little peek. The way his shoulder to waist ratio fucked you up. The way that knife holster on his hip made you go feral with lust. The way you wanted to come undone on those fingerless gloves till you couldn’t anymore. The way that suit hugged his curves, especially that perky ass.

You were busy thirsting like a dehydrated bitch in the middle of the Sahara, lost in your own filthy thoughts for who knows how long, when a snapping noise brought you back to the land of living. You blinked a few times to clear your head of its dirty thoughts and blurry vision. When you looked back up, you saw Jensen Snackles, as Sony Pictures had oh so proudly named him, standing in front of you and snapping his fingers.

Confusion flooded your expressions but before you could open your mouth to ask what he wanted, he cut you off, “Do we have a problem here, miss? Is there something on my face or what? Because you keep staring at me and I can’t do my job like that!” He said in an annoyed tone.

That’s when you looked around and saw that the set was deserted except for you and the Adonis. The director must have called for a break if there were too many bad takes. You felt a little guilty for wasting everyone’s time but before you could apologise, he cut you off again, “There she goes again. What is going on inside your head?” He clipped, waving a hand in front of your face.

You didn’t know what it was. The pent up sexual frustration of not having had sex in months or how rudely Snackles here was constantly cutting you off, with the fact that no one should look like that or that you couldn’t get your mind off of him but you snapped at him.

“Listen Mr. Sna- Mr. Ackles, firstly, I don’t have a problem with you and I’m not staring at you and secondly, you are not letting me work and are distracting me.” You quipped.

You knew in an instant you were fired for the way you had talked to him but now that you had spoken your mind and the words had left your mouth, you couldn’t take them back. So you decided to stand your ground.

“I am not letting you work?!” He scoffed, cocking one of his eyebrows.

“Yes!! You think it’s easy for me to concentrate when you roam around looking like sex on legs.” You said, waving a hand up and down his body.

Your eyes widened and your hand flew to your mouth when you heard the words that had left your mouth. A cocky smirk grew on his face and he took a step forward as you mirrored his move in the opposite direction.

“I think that implies you were staring at me.” He chuckled, stepping forward again until your back hit the wall and the clipboard and the walkie you had in your hands fell. You were caged by him against the wall, looking like a prey meeting the eyes of its predator just before it’s death.

You looked down, too ashamed and weak to meet his burning gaze. You turned your head towards the exit and said, “I’m sorry Mr. Ackles. I should leave.”

“Nuh-uh,” he tutted, “Sex on legs huh?” He asked cockily.

He was dangerously close to you. You could feel his warm breath fanning over your face. You let out an involuntary whimper and if it was possible, his face turned more cocky.

“What other thoughts swim around in that pretty little head of yours Miss..” he trailed off, his hand coming to push a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

You cleared your throat before half whispering and half whimpering, “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.” He said, gruffly, as if trying to see how it would sound from his mouth and god did it sound so sinful. “Interesting name but I guess it makes up for your interesting personality. So as I was saying, what other thoughts about me do you have? Other than sex on legs of course.”

You couldn’t focus enough to reply as you were busy staring at his plump lips and that goddamn beard that gave you all kinds of thoughts you wouldn’t think in your wildest dreams.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart.” He chuckled and the vibrations of it could be felt by you as he pressed his body to yours and caged you between his arms that you knew from his Instagram video he had spent some time working on.

You instantly looked up into his gorgeous green orbs and found yourself lost in them. You opened your mouth a few times but nothing came out, looking like a fish out of the water. Words had left you. It was like a small child trying to speak but not knowing how to.

He closed the distance between his mouth and your ear and growled, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?”

Your whole body shuddered and you pushed your thighs together to get some much needed friction. Jensen seemed to notice your reaction and pushed his thigh between your legs.

“Oh so that’s what this is about. I see nobody has fucked this tight, little pussy in a while and that’s why you’re snapping at people and undressing me with your eyes.” He said in a low, deep voice that had your pussy clenching around nothing.

A wave of arousal flooded your panties and you knew they were ruined a long time ago but now it felt like they had simply disintegrated.

He continued, “But don’t you worry, unfortunately I know what it feels like and I think I would very much like to help you with that.” He winked and if it wasn’t for the wall and him caging you in, your knees would have buckled and you would be a horny mess on the floor.

You noticed your breathing had become heavier and your lips had parted, your hands were balled in fists at your sides, your pussy throbbed in need and your whole body was shaking with lust and desire.

Jensen leaned down to look into your eyes and spoke softly, “Hey, if you don’t want this tell me right away.”

That seemed to snap you out of your sensory overload and you quickly nodded frantically.

“I want this. I want you to fuck me, Jensen.” You sputtered quickly before he could take his offer back.

The moment your consent reached his ears, the beautiful greens of his eyes were eclipsed by the black clouds of lust. He crashed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss that was all teeth and tongue. It was driven by pure lust and need and want and desire.

His hands were on you pushing and pulling and mapping out your entire body. Everything felt too much and not enough at the same time. When the need for air became too much you both parted, panting like you had just ran a marathon. He pushed his partly gloved hands underneath your jumper and pulled it off you leaving your upper body in the black tank top you were wearing.

His mouth moved towards your jaw, nipping and nibbling at the skin there while his hands squeezed your ass. His mouth went to your neck, to the spot behind your ear that drove you wild and sucked. And oh god did he suck hard. You were pretty sure you’d be sporting a big purple hickey but you couldn’t care less.

He kissed the valley of your breasts and suckled one of your clothed nipples as your back arched off the wall and you shamelessly let out a loud moan. He pushed your tank top up as he kneeled down, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

He pushed your leggings and your panties down in one go and both of you were shocked. You, to see that your panties hadn’t disintegrated and him, to see how wet you were. He looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and before you could comprehend what it meant, he dove inside your pussy like a starving man.

He let out a groan when he tasted you, gripping your thighs so tight that you were sure there'd be bruises there. You tangled your hands in his hair, keeping him in place but also giving yourself something to hold on to.

All your wet dreams and imaginations didn’t do justice to how delicious the burn of his beard felt between your thighs. He fucked you with his tongue and then went on to suck at your clit like a child sucking an ice lolly after playing for hours in the summer heat.

To say that you were a panting, moaning, whimpering, writhing and blubbering mess would be an understatement. You were at the mercy of this man’s mouth and you thanked your lucky stars for it. One of his hands left your thigh and came to encircle your core. Desperate to come, you started grinding on his face.

He pushed two of his thick fingers in and groaned at how easily they fit cause you were practically dripping at this point. He fucked you on his fingers hard all the while nibbling and sucking your clit. He moved up your body till he was face to face with you all the while thrusting his fingers into you at a merciless pace.

He crashed his lips on yours and pushed his tongue inside your mouth. You moaned at tasting yourself on his tongue. He moved his talented mouth towards your ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Come on Y/n. Come for me.” He whispered in your ear.

Like he had a remote control to your body, you came. And you came so hard that you saw stars. Your vision went white, your body went slack and you felt like you were filled to the brim with pleasure.

When you came back to your senses, the first thing you felt was his cock, hard and heavy, lined with your core, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass supporting your weight and crushing you between his body and the wall. He looked at you to see if there was any hint of discomfort but when he couldn’t find any, he kissed you while pushing his cock deep inside you.

You had to admit that he was bigger than any guy you’ve been with and the stretch was just oh so good. He kissed you, nibbling on your lower lip til you got used to his girth. You clawed at his shoulders and the now not so short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Fu-uck Jensen. Move please. F-fuck me.” You begged not caring how desperate you sounded.

Jensen let out an animalistic growl upon hearing your words and pulled all the way out, only leaving the tip in and slammed back into you in one thrust. You let out a cry when his cock hit your g-spot with fucking precision.

He kept up his deadly pace, pounding into you so hard you were sure you’d feel it for days, that had the coil in your lower belly wound tight in no time. He hid his face in the crook of your neck. Only the sounds of his heavy breathing and grunts ,which to be honest should be illegal, and your moans and panting could be heard around the large set.

“Look at you,” He grunted in your ear, “taking my cock so good. You’re so tight. Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but clench your pussy hearing those words pouring out of his mouth.

“I’m not gonna last long. Come for me one more time Y/n. Come on my cock. Squeeze it.” He grunted, pushing one of his hands between your bodies and rubbing rough circles on your clit.

You came with a scream of his name. Your orgasm was so fucking intense that you knew in that moment no one will ever be able to make you come so hard other than this man. He fucked you through your orgasm. A few hard thrusts later he stilled deep inside you and came with a grunt that you’d remember till the day you die. He spilled hot ropes of cum and you milked his cock for all its worth.

When you both came down from your highs, you untangled yourselves from each other and cleaned yourselves the best you could. You quickly and quietly got dressed, the air filling with awkwardness.

When you got dressed, you bent down to pick up your stuff which had fallen and turned to leave when suddenly Jensen caught your wrist and turned you around so that now he was caged between you and the wall. He kissed you and it was all sweet and soft this time while you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your body into his.

“Don’t you dare think this was a one time thing. You and me. Dinner at my place at 8. Sounds good?” He asked, sincerely and sweetly.

Your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth to reply but before you could the walkie in your hand came to life and a voice sounded from the other end, “Jensen Ackles is needed now at the wardrobe. Jensen Ackles is needed now at the wardrobe.”

“Looks like I have to go.” Jensen said and pecked your lips once.

He walked backwards and shouted, “My place at 8. Don’t forget.” He gave you a wink before finally going out of your sight.

You stood there confused as to what had just happened in the last hour of your life.

*****

[xshinigamikittenx]

The Quiet Game

NSFW Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI

You swear this class is going to kill you. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway. It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this late. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here...

Thank you SO MUCH to TrashyBee on Twitter for bringing Katsuki to life here. Good lawd 😩

A/N: Whew. Yet another one shot that ran away with me. lmaoooo. Couldn't really help it though, I mean...sheeeeesh. But child, anywaaays...this was fun. :) I'm also hoping you've been to a library and seen what the private study rooms look like, because it's kindof important here 😅 but if not here's an idea. Hope your future library thoughts are full of smut productivity!

9.5k words

CW/TW: semi-public sex, oral sex, clothed sex, vaginal sex, biting, swallowing, light degradation, gagging, fingering, hair pulling, deep thrusts, praise

You swear this class is going to kill you. Why the fuck did you choose to take on so many credits this year? Take more classes at once so you can finish early. The goal from the beginning was to get through university as quickly as possible so you could start making the money you knew would help keep you far away from home. Wealth is not something that runs in your family. Everything you get, you work for, and your degree will be no different. You keep your head down, focusing on one goal, to make enough money to support yourself and live the way you want. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway.

Your roommates, however, don’t have that same logic. Some nights when you’re up studying, you can hear them, and whoever they brought back to the dorm moaning, the bed sometimes rhythmically bumping into the paper-thin walls. “Just like that...yes-yes-mmmmore. Ffuck! ” It’s...distracting, to say the least, and frustrating because your body’s reaction constantly betrays your mind's focus. Your thighs clenching together, your pulse quickening; no way in hell you can study in your room, especially not at night.

You shake the thoughts out of your head, looking up at the massive main library, your feet unconsciously moving forward. This is your sanctuary, the place you feel you can be most at peace, and finally give way to the maintained focus you knew you needed. The warm glow of the lights through the windows always makes you feel calm. The cold air whips into you as you push open the door and take in the endless rows and layers of books keeping you company. There’s hardly ever anyone here at this time, a discovery you made one night when you found yourself packing your books in frustration to escape the sounds coming from the next room in the middle of the night.

It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this semester. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here. Your eyes land on his back, surveying him at a distance. The fact that he works here doesn’t quite compute with you. He’s built like he should be throwing a ball somewhere, all broad shoulders and toned arms. The sleeves of his olive green sweater are rolled up, emphasizing the lines and ridges of his toned muscles. It’s borderline irritating how good he looks, entirely focused on a mundane task. His blonde hair is somehow perfectly dishevelled, the lean form of his body bent over the desk, filling out some kind of paperwork while you walk in his direction. Usually, you would try to avoid him; talking to people, in general, is not a specialty of yours, let alone talking to someone who seems to have a short fuse.

You wait for a few seconds, thinking he’s got to know you’re there. He had to have heard the door open, right? But he hasn’t turned around yet, and thinking about actually opening your mouth to speak to him felt like the air was getting sucked out of the building. You were already introverted with high anxiety, and you did not need to feel uncomfortable right now, especially under the looming stress of this project which was due in two days. So you waited, hoping the subtle noises you were making, readjusting your bag, and taking a deep breath, would possibly get his attention. Fuck, this is taking too long; I’ve got to say something. “Um...hey.” Jesus Christ, really couldn’t think of anything better to say? You practically sneer at yourself at how lame you sound, but this certainly got his attention. He turned half of his body towards you, one of his scarlet eyes glaring at you over his shoulder. His face was rather expressionless, betraying the scorching feeling his eyes deliver, making you suddenly self-conscious of what you looked like standing in front of him. You didn’t think about what you were wearing when you left your dorm, throwing on a go-to pair of leggings and the first hoodie you saw before storming out of the overly cramped room, leaving the heavy breaths and moans of your neighbour behind you.

“Oi, you need something? Speak up.” Your face immediately flushed. The heat rising up your neck and blooming across your face, triggering your palms to start sweating. You didn’t think you were unnecessarily quiet; it’s a fucking library. You knew he was an asshole, but what the fuck did you do to him? Before you think about it anymore, you shift your thoughts towards how to respond to him, coming up blank. You grip your bag tighter, your mind racking itself, but the anxiety has already caught hold of you, and it’s as if you're stranded on an island with no help in sight. So you resort to your usual defensive mechanism; you bite back.

“So, what...? You want me to scream to get your attention?” He turns his body toward you, putting the full picture of himself on display. You’ve never been this close to him, actively avoiding him after hearing him ream other students out for being too loud or misplacing books. You didn’t realize how intimidating his stature was until now, being less than six feet away from him.

He wasn’t excessively tall, but his posture would convince you otherwise. Even as he leaned back against the length of the desk behind him, he was still probably a handful of inches taller than you. He lifts his glasses to rest on the top of his almost unruly blonde hair as he speaks, “Can’t say why I would find screaming necessary in a library, but if you need something, you should say it clearly so I can help you and not have to spend five minutes of my time explaining common courtesy to someone who knows better.”

Your annoyance is suddenly replaced with rage at his words. What the fuck? Is he trying to put this on me? Doesn’t he fucking work here? Isn’t it his job to pay attention if someone needs help? You’re even more pissed because you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you could study in your room. The constant reminder of your roommate getting railed while you were trying to work made that impossible, so here you are. It’s not like you wanted to ask him for help, but you need access to a private study room, and you have to request it from the attendant. Except for tonight, when you’re pent up and stressed, you have to deal with him. “I wouldn’t have to speak up if you were doing your job, asshole.” Fuck. He’s distracting me. I don’t have time for this. You watch his face as one of his eyebrows lift while he places his large hands on the ledge of the desk behind him, baring the outline of his toned chest stretching the fabric of his sweater. “Now, I know you’re not that much of a dumbass. What do you think I was doing before you walked in here and started wasting my time?” Your eyes widen, inadvertently travelling the length of his body, from the smug ass expression resting on his face to his rippling arms, tense as his hands grip the dark wooden desk. For some reason, this annoyed you even more; why did he have to be insulting and infuriatingly attractive?

His lips curl into a smirk, revelling in the glare you’re aiming at him. Dumbass? Is this asshole for real? At this point, he’s pissed you off past the point of giving a fuck. You would’ve walked away by now if you didn’t actually need his help. But if he wants to play this game, fine. A smug smile spreads across your face as you speak, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was speaking to someone who was unable to multitask. Your life must be so hard, huh?” He drops his head, laughing as he pushes himself off the desk, taking a step toward you. Your hands grip your bag tighter as he comes closer, lifting his head so his ruby-coloured eyes meet yours. “That’s pretty fucking hilarious coming from someone who’s at the library in the middle of the night on a fuckin’ Friday.” He straightens up, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continues, “Seems more like your life is hard, and you’re just pissed off about it.” His gaze is piercing, attempting to slice through your facade of confidence, but you’re currently too livid to give a shit. You’re done talking to him, you just need to get into the study room and away from this asshole.

“No,” you seethe, “I’m pissed off because I can’t work in my room, I have shit to do, and this conversation is a waste of time.” You lift your head higher, meeting his gaze as he smirks down at you. “Oh, seems like I’m not the only one who can’t multitask then, huh?” He chuckles, watching you as you fold your arms and turn your head, breaking eye contact with him. “I just need one of the study rooms opened.”

“Oh, so you do need something,” he says, his voice dropping as he leans forward, bringing his face into your line of sight, his sharp features coming into focus. “You said it yourself, you wasted my time, so I think you can ask a little nicer than that.” You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to punch someone more than how much you want to punch his perfectly fucking chiselled jaw in that moment. Regardless of how much his face appeals to your more violent tendencies, you realize you don’t have an option. All of this bullshit will have been for nothing if you’re unable to get into that fucking room. Your jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as your eyes bore into him. You make a point not to break eye contact when you speak through the smile you’ve painted on, “Oh, where are my manners...would you...please...open a study room so that I can get away from you?” You smile wider, contrasting the cold glare you shoot at him as he grins, watching your edges fray. He slides one of his hands out of his pocket, assessing you while he tosses the keys up in his hand, the dull metallic sound of their impact in the palm of his hand, peaking your annoyance further. “Well hell,” he says, “it’s about damn time.”

You roll your eyes as he catches the keys a final time, smirking at you before he turns to exit the enclosed space of the front desk. You readjust your bag and look up to follow him, balking at seeing him walk in front of you. He takes a few steps ahead of you, his coffee colored pants clinging to the muscles of his legs as he heads towards the back of the library where the study rooms are located. Fuck, his ass looks good. You’re grateful when you take a glance around you, suddenly conscious of what your borderline heated exchange probably looked like to anyone who could’ve seen it. Not to mention the fact that it probably definitely looked like you were staring at his ass just now. You refocus, remembering that you’re supposed to be following him. You train your eyes on the back of his neck, trying to keep yourself from fixating on his perfectly sculpted form; when you see him turn his head, eyeing you. His gaze travels up and down, then up to meet your eyes before he speaks, “For someone who claims to dislike wasted time, you sure are slow.”

Fuck. Did he catch me looking at him? Your chest tightens at the thought. Just hurry the fuck up and get to the room so you can do what you came here for. You signal your legs to pick up the pace until you’re almost in stride with him and looking straight ahead. You know where the study rooms are; you just need him to open it for you, but why does it feel like it’s taking forever to get there? Your body grows warmer, anxiety still pumping through you from your previous conversation. Now being alone in this giant space in silence is adding emphasis to the fact that you’re practically alone. You try to distract yourself, feigning interest in the books that line the shelves as you walk past them. We’ve got to be close now; just focus on the room. You look ahead, expecting to see the study rooms’ glass windows but instead are met with more shelves of books. What the fuck? Did they move them? How long have we been walking? You glance over at him, accidentally making eye contact because he was already looking at you.

Without thinking, you look away, and then you hear him speak, “Ya know, no ones usually here at this time on a Friday. Don’t you have better shit to do?” Seriously? If he’s going to be a dick, why is he even wasting his breath talking to me?

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t,” you bite back, too tangled up in your own thoughts to decipher anything less aggressive, “and I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me to be here.”

He continues walking, and you push ahead of him, attempting to put some distance between you. You don’t need him to lead you to the room; the library is only so big. Getting there on your own and waiting for him to open it would be better than dealing with this bullshit. You see him looking over at you in your peripheral vision as you pass him, and he laughs. “You don’t wanna be here, but all of a sudden, you’re in a hurry. A little conflicting, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes. Fuck off. Is what you would’ve said if you wanted to continue this conversation. He would definitely have something to say to that. “Are you forgetting that I’ve got what you want?” You stop dead in your tracks and spin on your heels to face him, “Excuse me?” He doesn’t even flinch at your raised tone, you could practically hear your own voice echoing around you as he walks up to you, stopping inches away. He’s so close you can smell him, a warm scent of amber and oak catching you off guard as you hold your ground. His lips lilt into a mocking half-smile as he moves his hand towards you to dangle the keys directly in front of your face. “What? You want to get into the room, don’t you?” Your focus shifts from the keys to his crimson eyes, blurring everything else around you as your body reacts to the heat radiating off of his skin. He feels...warm. I wonder - Your gaze drops to his lips, maddeningly curled into a taunting smirk. “Well, now I’m wondering what you thought I was talking about.”

He pulls the keys into the palm of his hand with a metallic snap, the sound almost making you jump as your eyes widen. You find yourself holding your breath as the tightening in your chest climbs up to your throat. Say something. Fucking anything. Your face must tell him everything he needs to know, because he doesn’t wait for a response. “How’s this, I’ll let you off the hook if you tell me why you’re here, dealing with my bullshit, when you could be studying in your dorm.”

This is none of his fucking business, but it’s easier to answer than the previous question, so fuck it. “I can’t focus there.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not satisfied with your answer. You roll your eyes and sigh, “It’s just...noisy. I can’t think straight.”

He laughs at your response, “Yeah I can see that you're easily distracted.” You feel his eyes hovering over your body before meeting your gaze and shifting his weight to start walking again. You take a deep breath, silently relieved that whatever the fuck that was is over. “There’s this invention,” he says as he walks ahead of you “called headphones, ever thought of using those?” You shoot daggers into the back of his head as he turns the corner and you see the study rooms up ahead. Thank fucking god. He sifts through the keys as he walks, locating the one he needed to open the door. His hands move to slide the key into the lock, “Tch. Unless you’ve got roommates that are loud when they fuck. Headphones might not help much.” You know this is a joke but the heat spreading through your face, and the way your body tenses up catches his attention. “Did I strike a nerve,” he asks, smirking at you as his hand grips the door handle.

“Just open the door.” He raises an eyebrow and you release an exasperated sigh, “Please.”

He swings the door open, holding it open as he waits for you to walk through. Finally. I can get this asshole out of my face and work. You walk towards the door, and you notice he isn’t moving. I can hold the door on my own. Why is he still standing there? As you move you eye the entrance to the room, realizing you’re going to need to get insanely close to him to get through the doorway. Fuck it. Just slip by him and move on. “Listen, I don’t bite,” he says, noticing your moment of hesitation with a sly smile. You roll your eyes, making a point to look him in the eyes as you attempt to get by him. His piercing gaze slices through you, stoking the flames within your core you’ve been harnessing all night; fuck, maybe all semester. You fail to keep the flush from blooming across your face, turning your head away from him as you attempt to brush past him. You can feel him watching you, it feels like heat is emanating from his skin, pulling you closer as you hear a low voice directly in your ear, “Unless you want me to.”

What? It was a split second that you were close enough to hear him. Your breath catches as you finally make it past him, his words echoing in your head. Did he just-? You turn around to face him, “What did you just s-“ but he was already leaving, walking back towards the front of the library, probably to finish working on whatever the hell had him so focused when you arrived earlier.

You turn away, your back towards the floor to ceiling window of the small room as your mind reels from the last thing he said to you. I swear I heard him correctly. But why would he say that? Am I fucking crazy? You mindlessly unpack what you need out of your bag and sit at the desk, trying and failing miserably for almost an hour to focus on your work. You find yourself repeatedly scanning the same page because you can’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder to see if he’s nearby. You nibble at the tip of your pen, looking at the book in front of you and unable to comprehend a single thing. Your oral fixation is running rampant and your thoughts are nowhere near where they should be when the image of his lips slip into your head. What do they taste like? Your body reacts to the thought, squeezing your thighs together as your core tightens imagining his hands gripping your skin, his teeth sinking into you. Fuck. Fuck!

You turn your head again, wondering if there was any way he would be looking in your direction; his thoughts riddled with the same infuriatingly erotic images on a loop in your head. Then, you see him. His back towards you as he holds a stack of books in one arm to place on the shelves. Your eyes travel down the length of his body, the lines of muscle subtly evident through his clothes. You watch him as he reaches up to a particularly high shelf, and his sweater lifts just enough to see the definition of his lower back. Heat is building inside you, the stirring in your core causing your walls to clench, thinking about raking your nails across his back. Ffuuck...NO. Get your fucking shit together. Why would he want to fuck someone who has nothing better to do than study on a Friday night? Fucking focus. You try to gather your thoughts, but must’ve mistakenly zoned out while you were looking at him, because as soon as your eyes refocus you see his head turned in your direction, one cinder red eye smoldering into you.

Fuck! Your body stiffens, unsure what else to do besides just go back to pretending you were working on this project. That’s basically what you’ve been doing since you sat down anyways. And for what? Just for you to embarrass and distract yourself just enough for this entire ordeal to be a colossal waste of time.You start to gather your things, applying more force than necessary to shove everything back into your bag. Fuck this. I haven’t gotten anything done and it’s been two fucking hours. I should’ve just stayed in my room, used my vibrator and moved on. At least I would’ve been able to think straight.

“You must do that often, huh?”

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn your body towards the source of the voice coming from the doorway. Your eyes land on his waist, then to the large hands in his pockets as he seems to take up all the remaining space in the room. You catch a glimpse of the student ID on the lanyard threaded through his belt loop. Katsuki Bakugo. You didn’t even bother to check the picture before you looked up, eyes connecting with the same asshole smirk you’ve been replaying in your head since you sat down. I didn’t say all of that shit out loud did I?

“What are you talking about,” you snap. You really don’t feel like playing this game with him. You already made up your mind that you were leaving, there was no way in hell you were going to stick around to get made fun of. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Ha. That’s a good question,” he takes a step, crossing the length of the room to lean against the desk inches away from you. “I have a better question though. How long have you been watching me instead of working?”

It feels like your brain short circuits. Did he catch me looking for him earlier? Fuck!

“I-” it suddenly dawns on you that the only way he would’ve seen that is if he was looking at you. You just didn’t see him.

You smile up at him, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “The only way you could even think that, is if you were watching me. So you tell me, Katsuki, how long was it?”

He grins as he places his hands on the edge of the desk on either side of him and leans down towards you, his face inches away from yours. His eyes hold your gaze, his crimson eyes blazing like an unhinged wildfire as he speaks, “See, it’s my job to watch you. I work here, dumbass,” he says, his eyes dropping down to your chest as you cross your arms even tighter. God, I’m such an idiot. Of course he’s watching me because he has to. What the fuck was I thinking? Further embarrassment creeps across your face at the thought of even considering that he wanted you. Then, he leans in closer, the sound of his voice a warm whisper against your ear as he speaks, “What’s your excuse?”

You almost stop breathing. Your thoughts frantically trying to come up with something; anything that wasn’t the truth. You come up blank, your expression must’ve given him the answer he was looking for, because he laughs. He laughs in your face, and as much as you want to be completely pissed off, you’re distracted by the glint of the piercing poised in the center of his tongue. Fuck.

Subduing his laughter he sits up just enough to look down at you, raising an eyebrow as he smirks, “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? That I was watching you because I wanted to?” You glare at him, the all consuming mixture of rage and embarrassment spreading through you as your face flushes. Your nails are digging into your arms so hard that you can feel it through your sweatshirt. You can’t think of a single thing to say, but your mouth moves without thinking.

Your eyes connect, and you spit out exactly what your mind is silently screaming, “Fuck off.” You make sure you don’t look away, pointedly challenging him to say anything remotely clever in response. The grin spreading across his face is the first sign that you’ve lost that challenge.

“Pretty nasty mouth for someone who’s in the library more often than her own room.”

You flare up, everything you’ve been holding in boiling over as you bite back at him, “You don’t know shit about me,” your voice is tight, and growing louder as you let the words spill out of your mouth, “I’m here all the fucking time because I can’t deal with the fact that I have to watch everyone around me have a life while I bury myself in school. I don’t have friends or shit else to do because I don’t have fucking time. I just want to get through this hell so I can finally just do what I want! So could you, please, get the fuck out of my face so I can go.”

“The door’s right there, you could’ve left a long time ago, but here we are,” he says, his smirk dripping with sarcasm.

I’m so fucking done with this shit. You move to get up, grabbing your bag off of the desk as you turn towards the door. Your hand is reaching for the doorknob when you hear his voice again.

“Did you not hear me?”

“Loud and fucking clear. I’m leaving aren’t I?”

“For someone who’s so fucking smart you really are a dumbass,” he says, standing as he takes a step towards you.

Why haven’t you left yet? Why haven’t you opened the door and - It hits you. You replay his words in your mind, picking up on something you were too pissed off to realize until this moment.

You turn around to face him, and you’re eye level with his shoulders, inches away from you. The warm amber scent of him enveloping you as your gaze travels up his neck to the angle of his jaw, finally making eye contact as you speak, “How would you know I’m here more often than my own room?”

“Tch. Like I said before, I work here,” he says, before moving closer, the heat of his breath brushing against your face as he continues, “but I’ll admit getting to see you makes my job less shitty.”

Your chest tightens, the fluttering in your core enough to make your pulse quicken as your lips part slightly.

He’s watching your face, smirking as your body tenses up when he closes the space between you. “But if you really want to leave...” he whispers against your skin, careful not to touch you as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He brings his lips a breadth away from yours, dropping his gaze to your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you on the desk.” he says, his hands still in his pockets as his words melt into you, “If you don’t want me to, tell me right fucking now.”

He’s so close to you, all you had to do was tilt your head up just a little more and your lips would touch. The thought invaded your mind, your breath catching in your throat as your body reacted to his words, tightening your core to the point of aching. You lift your eyes to meet the heat of gaze as you speak, “Do it, then-“

“Fucking finally,” he growls, his voice raspy and low as he makes contact, his lips moving against yours as the palms of his hands travel up to your face. They slide into your hair at the nape of your neck, collecting it in his fist, while the other hand grips your hips. He pulls you into him, moving you against the wall adjacent to the door. Your back meets the wall, the impact strong enough to make sound and your mind is blank. The feeling of his hands, his lips, his body pressed against yours, overwhelming your senses as you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater. His kiss is hungry and breathless, low groans vibrating against your lips as his pierced tongue slips between them, tasting the heat of your wet mouth.

You whimper into him, your body on fire from the inside out as the thin thread of self control you have left is priming to snap. His lips curl up into a smirk at the sounds lilting out of you and a growl ripples through him as he bites your bottom lip hard enough for you to open your eyes. He releases you, his breaths heavy as he presses his forehead against yours. His scarlet irises bore into you as he speaks, “We’re going to have to do something about all that fucking noise you’re making,” he smirks, his eyes traveling from your swollen lips to your legs, taking note of how tightly you’re clenching your thighs together. “You’re a mess already aren’t you?” His breathy laugh brushes against your face as he pulls away hooking his index fingers into the waistband of your leggings and tugging just enough for them to snap back once he releases.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the impact against your sensitive skin, the heat pooling between your thighs as your insides clench. Your body is screaming, begging for him to touch you and your mouth moves on its own. “Please,” you whisper up at him, your hands finding the hem of his sweater as you spread your fingers against his skin, feeling every ridge of hardened muscle beneath it.

He drops his gaze down to your hands as your fingertips explore the surface of his skin. A low rumble vibrates through his chest, as his eyes sear into you, “Don’t forget, you fucking asked for this.” His hands move, pulling your sweatshirt over your head and dropping it onto the floor before he leans into you, pushing his leg between your thighs while he holds both your wrists in one hand above your head against the wall. His other hand grips your hip, his fingertips digging into your skin as his lips meets your neck.

You start to move against him, trying to get a taste of the friction your body is aching for while he teases your neck with open mouth kisses. His breath is hot against your skin, teeth sinking into you, as low groans escape his lips. He feels so fucking good and you haven’t been fucked in so long you might cum before he even gets to feel how wet you are. His lips move up to your ear, his voice low as his breath caresses your skin, “You’re riding my thigh like it’s something else, baby girl.” The hand gripping your hip slides under your shirt as he speaks, palming your breast while he kisses the space behind your ear. His teeth graze against your skin as a rippling growl erupts from him, pulling a whimper from your lips while your pussy grinds against his thigh.

You can feel the length of his hardening cock against your leg as you press yourself against him. He pinches your nipple, igniting every nerve in your body as he grins against your skin, feeling your body bend for him. A gasping moan escapes your lips, the sound filling the space around you as your head drops back against the wall. He pulls his head back just enough to watch your reaction; your eyes squeezed shut as your whines spill from your open mouth. “I can feel your pussy clenching for me, y/n,” he says, his lips trailing down your exposed neck as his hand moves to your other hardened nipple. The pressure he applies is sharp and delicious causing every muscle in your body to tighten, your panting breaths mingling with his hums of satisfaction as he feels you on the edge of unraveling at his touch.

“Fuck...ha...hahh...Katsuki...” You’re on your tiptoes relishing in the feeling of his teasing fingers as your insides coil imagining the feeling of him stretching you out. He grinds against you, his arousal pressing against your leg as your nails dig into the palms of your hands. “Mmm, You’re so fucking sexy, so desperate for this fucking cock aren’t you?”

Your lips are moving before you think, your mind consumed with the heat swelling inside you, “Yes...yes...please.” You lean forward in an attempt to meet his lips but he pulls away, releasing your hands as he moves to grip your hips. You let out a small yelp when he picks you up under your ass, and turns to put you on top of the desk. His hands slide down to the crook of your legs as he stands between them, eyeing you beneath his lashes when he speaks, “Pull them down.” You lean back, searching his face as you try to collect your thoughts. You must’ve taken longer than he wanted because he leans in, placing his hand on the wall behind you as his crimson eyes burn into yours, “You’re taking your sweet fucking time, and you’re already soaked down here?”

His fingers move to your warm center, feeling your arousal soaking through your leggings as he presses circles against your aching clit. Your legs involuntarily squeeze around his hips as his hand drops from the wall to grip a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at his face as his voice drops, “Spread...your fucking...legs.” Your pulse quickens, your blood heating up as he slows the pace of the pressure he’s circling around your clit and you whimper up at him, giving into the ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

You want more, you lean back on your hands, hips moving to the rhythm his fingers play against your drenched core as your pleading eyes meet his gaze. You’re in a fucking library, in a room with a huge ass window. But the thought of someone seeing you makes your pulse speed up, sending a heightened thrum of pleasure streaming through you, “Hnnngh...ffuckk…” your hips move faster, cloying for more pressure, more friction, more feeling. Katsuki notices your body’s reaction, tightening his hold on your hair, causing your eyes to squeeze shut from the slight prickle of pain. “You wanna cum so fucking bad don’t you? That pussy of yours is begging for this fucking cock.” All you can do is pant in response, your eyes opening to see his face, smirking down at you as his fingers push harder, “Show me, show me how much you want it so I can see that dripping pussy.”

A breathy moan slips out of your throat as you sit up to push the fabric of your leggings down to your ankles. Katsuki releases his hold on your hair, watching your every movement as his gaze drops down to the essence glistening against your swollen lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath, the air hissing between his teeth as his eyes hungrily take you in before he meets your gaze again. His hooded eyes are a shadowed crimson, the heat rising up to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him.

One of his hands moves to grip the top of your thigh, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he slips two fingers from his other hand into his mouth. Your pussy tightens, watching him give his fingers a gentle suck as his gaze locks onto yours. The image is lethal, your breath catching at the sight of his wet fingers sliding past his lips and dropping to your aching pussy to tease your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet baby,” he hisses between his teeth, as he pinches your clit, the pressure enough to pull a gasping moan from your throat.

Your eyes flutter closed as you stifle a moan and lean your head back against the wall. His fingers maddeningly toy with you as you hear him unbuckle his belt. Sheer curiosity makes your eyelids hover open as you look down, taking in the size of him, his hand wrapping around his thick shaft and gliding over the prominent veins to his cherried swollen tip, dripping pre. You want to taste him so badly, your mouth begins to water and all you can think about is feeling his throbbing cock inside you. You don’t give a fuck if it barely fits. Your pussy clenches at the thought, wordlessly begging to be stuffed to the brim.

A low growl ripples through his chest, “I don’t even have to look at your face to know your pussy’s begging for this cock.” He thumbs the throbbing head of his dick, swirling the pre around his tip while his eyes bore into you. You couldn’t look away from his gaze if you wanted to, even as his fingers leave your aching core to pull you down with a rough tug at the crook of your legs, forcing your ass to the edge of the desk. He leans over your body, bringing his face inches away from yours, sliding a pre soaked thumb into your awaiting mouth flattening your tongue against his calloused finger. You wrap your lips around it, gently sucking and swirling your tongue, tasting his arousal for the first time.

A low moan rises from your throat, vibrating around him as you watch his eyes darken. He presses down against your tongue, forcing your mouth open as he growls, “Mmm you’re a naughty little slut aren't you...” His words send your insides fluttering, your hands balling into fists as your muscles tighten, your walls clamping around nothing but air as you pout. You don’t give a fuck anymore. Someone could stand directly in front of that massive fucking window and record the whole fucking thing. It doesn’t matter. You want him, right fucking now. You roll your hips, grinding your wet pussy against his hard cock. His dick twitches in response grinding through your slit and hitting your clit sending a simpering moan spilling from your open mouth.

You feel him press harder against your tongue and his voice drops, “Such a fucking tease,” he slides his length through your swollen lips, his heat seeping into you as he whispers, “You want this fucking cock? Let’s see how quiet you can be and maybe, I’ll let you cum.” He releases your tongue, slipping his hand under your shirt to swirl his slick fingers around your nipple. You bite your lip, attempting to silence the whimpers rising from your throat as your back arches at his touch, your hands craving to touch him. You reach up, sliding your hands under the fabric of his sweater as you drag your nails down his back. A guttural growl emanates from his chest as he ruts against you, every ridge of his thick cock sliding into your clit.

You can feel yourself melting beneath his hands, his fingers tugging at your nipples as his body moves down leaving soft bites and licks in his wake. The heat of his breath and the cool kiss of the metal stud in his tongue meets your dripping center and it’s enough to send goosebumps flooding across your skin. In one swift motion he’s on his knees between your legs, the back of your thighs resting on his shoulders and his hands gripping you to pull your plush wet lips closer to his smirking mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m not going to be able to- “Shhhh,” you watch his lips as he smiles, looking directly at you. You swallow the moan threatening to escape your lips but your shallow breaths are giving you away, he fucking knows I won’t be able to take this...

Then, he’s inhaling you, his tongue slipping into your clenching pussy, licking from your entrance to your clit while he looks directly into your eyes as he pulls away, “Fuck. You taste so fucking good.” His voice is heated and low, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his lips as he speaks. The image sends your insides fluttering, your muscles tensing down to your toes as your legs attempt to constrict around him. You’re squirming already but he’s got you pinned, wide open and spread out, at the mercy of his vicious fucking mouth.

He doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath before he’s latching onto you, his hot wet tongue delving into your silky walls as his piercing vibrates against you with even the slightest groan. You gasp for air, eyes squeezed shut, fingers intertwined in his hair you grind into him, completely blissed out and swimming in the waves of pleasure ebbing through you with every flick and suck. You’re a fucking mess, trying to maintain some modicum of control as he mercilessly swirls his tongue around your pulsing clit. His teeth nestle around it, gently rolling your bundle of nerves between them as he flicks his piercing against you, pulling a low groan from the depths of your core.

He growls, licking your pussy from your clenching entrance to your base of your clit before he looks up at you, “How am I gonna fuck you if you can’t keep quiet with just my fucking tongue, hmm?” The loss of pressure makes you whine, you’re so fucking close. He smirks at you, one of his hands releases your thigh, dropping down to push two of his thick fingers into your warm weeping center. His eyes follow his movements, watching as you take him in, curling his fingers to brush against your most sensitive spot as he slides in and out of you. It’s too much, but you choke down the sobbing whimper cloying in your throat. Your legs shake, breasts heaving as your panting breaths quicken with every thrust of his fingers. You’re biting your lip so hard to keep quiet you might draw blood, but you lean back, putting your weight on your hands to lift your hips and roll into him, letting his long fingers push deeper inside you.

You clamp down around him, your body begging for more; more feeling, more friction, more pressure, you want every little piece of it. You’re at the edge of your control, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back. You can feel him watching you, humming his approval as his other hand releases your leg, “Mmmm, such a good fucking girl with this greedy fucking pussy. You wanna cum for me don’t you...?”

“Yes-yess, pleeease...haah-fuck, FUCK.”

He breathes a soft laugh over your sopping pussy before he devours your soft lips hungrily, lapping up your slit as the rhythm of his fingers speed up.

“Hnnngh...hah-haah, please-fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He’s drowning you, your senses overflowing with the feeling of heat through your body, pushing you to the brink of release. Your pussy clenches around him, his tongue sending sparks through every nerve, punishing you with his thrumming piercing as he moves to sit up on his knees, pushing further into you. He knows you’re close; his hand slides up your body, his nails dragging across your skin until he reaches your lips, sliding two of his fingers into your panting mouth.

He moans into you, making his piercing vibrate faster. Your mouth waters as you wrap your tongue around his fingers, nibbling and sucking on them. You’re a mess, unable to conjure anything except slurred muffled groans around his thick fingers. His lips pull away just enough for you to feel him growl at you.

“Cum for me, right fucking now.”

Fuck...fuckfuckfuck! Your body reacts to his words, wrapping both hands around his arm, digging your nails into his skin as your climax crashes into you. You’re struggling for air but you don’t need it, the blinding light behind your eyelids rippling with the waves of pleasure imploding from your core. He doesn’t stop, his fingers milking your insides, extending your orgasm for everything you’ve got until he slips them out of you, only to delve into your tightening entrance with his tongue, lapping up every drop of your cum.

“So fucking sweet,” he breathes, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, using both of his hands to push the back of your thighs up, inhaling everything you have left as the last tremors spiral out of your body. Eyes closed, floating in the afterglow of your release, you feel him pull your legs back down as he stands in one swift motion. He grips the top of your thighs, roughly tugging you down until your throbbing core kisses the ridges of his dick. Your eyes snap open. Fuck, he’s fucking huge.

Your expression must’ve voiced your thoughts because he expels are a breathy laugh, “You feel that don’t you, how fucking hard I am from tasting your perfect fucking pussy.” His cock twitches against you and your hips roll into him as you moan, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands as you look up at him. Your legs wrap around his waist, tightening from the flush of heat emanating from your core. You want him inside you, to feel the mind numbing combination of pleasure and pain as he stretches you out.

Your voice is a whimper, “Katsuki….please.” You continue to grind against him, your arousal and his dripping pre making you slick and hot. A guttural growl rips through his chest as he leans over you, the palm of his hand slamming on the wall as he brings his lips to your ear. Your body stills, your breaths coming in shallow pants as his muscle toned body presses against you, “Please, what? Tell me what you want, y/n.”

His tongue flicks at your neck, making your words come out in gasps, “Fuck...fuck me...please, please…” Your hands glide beneath the fabric of his sweater, splaying out to pull him closer into you while your nails dig into him. Your back bows off the surface of the desk, tightening your legs around him trying to gain more friction to appease your swollen clit.

“Be a good girl,” he breathes into your ear, “ and control that pretty mouth of yours or I’ll have to do it for you.”

You bite your lip, your need for him coiling inside you as you feel him push himself up far enough for you to feel him hovering over you. Your eyes meet and his hand moves to position himself into you. The head of his cock presses against your soaking entrance, slowly slipping into you as you fight the low moan rising from your throat. He hisses between his teeth as he watches you, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Both of his hands press into the desk, his arms caging you in, as he looks between your bodies, watching himself ease into you inch by inch. He’s already stretching you out, your velvet walls clenching around him as his wet cock slides inside of your clenching pussy. The muscles in his arms tighten, his body tensing as he begins to move his hips, pushing further into you.

“You’re clamping down on me and I’m not even all the way in yet,” he smirks at you, watching your face flush as your pulse quickens. Fuck...he’s going to fucking break me. But you’re too far gone, you want him, and your body speaks for you, lifting your hips as your nails claw into his back. A growl rips through his chest as his head dips, bringing his forehead to yours, “You want it? Okay then…”

Before you’re able to take another breath, he snaps his hips, pulling a yelp from your mouth when he bottoms out inside you. “Fffuck, you feel so fucking good.” You’re whining, struggling to accommodate his size but relishing in the mind numbing feeling of fullness your pussy was already becoming addicted to. “Not so cocky once that pretty little cunt is fucking full, huh?”

The only response you can offer is a whimper as he starts to move. He rotates his hips, grinding deeper into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You turn your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to stifle the sounds rising from your throat. Your open mouth meets his arm and your teeth sink into him as he pulls out just enough to slam back into you hitting your limit. It takes everything in you not to cry out, but the pain is dulled by the overwhelming feeling of pleasure each deep powerful thrust rains down on you.

“Haah-hah, fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.” His movements find a rhythm, rolling his hips again and again filling you to the brim with every snap. The curve of his cock pushes his tip against your most sensitive spot, stirring your insides, making your body temperature rise with every panting breath. The feeling is intoxicating, drunk on the way your bodies move together, every nerve firing, desperate to drink him in more. You roll your hips, taking the full impact of every merciless thrust, your breath hitching as you choke back a sob. Your nails drag across the span of his back as you hear him hiss through his teeth. His muscles tense, back arching as a growl vibrates through his body. “Ah- FUCK. Ooooh, you want it don’t you. Yeah? You want it?”

“Katsuki, please, I want- I want more.” You’re a sputtering mess, your walls fluttering around his hard cock as he pushes off the desk, gripping your thighs in both of his massive hands. He pulls you further down bringing your ass off the edge of the desk. Your body is completely at his mercy as he pushes deeper into you, his fingertips digging into your skin as his pace speeds up. You don’t have time to adjust to his movements, he drives into you, snapping his hips, impaling you over and over.

“Ahh-ah-fffucckk,” you moan, failing miserably at staying quiet, it’s fucking impossible. It feels too good, you’re too full, overflowing with the sensations pulsing through your body. You grab onto the edge of the desk, fingers gripping the wood as his heavy sack smacks against your ass. “Mmmm,” he growls, What? Can't fucking take it? Fuck- cant control that slutty fucking mouth can you? Pussy drooling all over my fucking cock.” He lifts your shirt with one hand pulling it up to your open mouth and you immediately bite down, the fabric doing everything it can to muffle your stuttering moans.

“That’s right. Such a good fucking girl,” his fingers trail down your body, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples as every ridge of his cock fills all the space you have inside you. “Fuck- your so fucking sexy baby- you wanna cum don’t you...keep biting down on that fucking shirt.” You’re so close, so fucking close, the coil in your core threatening to snap. He feels you clamp down on him, moving one hand to press down on your stomach and the other to your throbbing clit.

The pressure pushes your spot against his dick, his punishing thrusts slamming into it every time as he rubs maddening circles around your clit. “Hnnnnf-hnnnngh!” Your shirt muffles your sobs as you squeeze your eyes closed, the tears prickling at the corners as your back arches, your head thrown back as far as it can go. “Fuck yes- cum on this cock baby...cum for me.”

His words are your undoing, any ounce of control you have left exploding into the myriad of colors flashing behind your eyes. The thin thread at the base of your spine snaps, catapulting you into the stratosphere, overheating and gasping for air. The feeling saturates you, expelling any and every thought your mind could attempt to conjure. You squeeze your legs around him, every muscle in your body tightening as your pussy clamps down on his throbbing dick.

“Fuck- FUCK-mmmm, get ready to swallow every drop of this fucking cum baby.” His voice washes over you, the waves of your orgasm still rippling through your body as you feel him slide out of you. He hooks a finger in the neckline of your shirt, pulling you to sit up as he steps back between your legs. Your eyes land on his straining cock, slick from your arousal and the dripping pre his hand is fisting up and down his shaft. “Open...your fucking…mouth.”

You want to taste him, your mouth waters watching his cock twitch in his hands. Your body is so fucking spent, your legs would give out if you tried getting on your knees. You push your ass back, hinging at the hips and leaning forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you hold your tongue out of your open mouth for him. “Ughggh, fuck,” he groans, watching you as the heat from your breath caresses his dick.

His hand moves faster, his breath catching as his muscles tense. “Fuck-FUCK- you’re so fucking sexy baby, you’re gonna take all this fucking cum aren’t you...yeah? Show me...wrap those lips around my dick baby.” Your insides flutter as you swirl your tongue around the swollen pink head of his cock, tasting the mixture of his pre and your arousal. You inhale the intoxicating scent of him before hollowing your cheeks and taking in as much of him as you can. “Hah-haah, just like that baby-FUCK.” He moves his hand from the base of his dick to the back of your head, your eyes widening as he starts to thrust into your mouth.

His other hand rests under your throat, holding you still while he face fucks you. A low moan rises in your throat, vibrating around his cock as his uneven breaths melt into groans and hisses. “So fucking perfect,” he’s panting, his voice raspy and rumbling, “Taste your slutty fucking pussy on my cock baby?- haah-hah- all this cum I’m gonna shoot down your throat’s cus’ve you.” He’s thrusting harder, his pace speeding up as he stretches you out, hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as tears begin to fall, “Choke on that cock baby, that’s right- take - all of it- fuck, Fuck-FUCK!”

The hand on the back of your head fists your hair as he throws his head back, all of his muscles tensing up as he bucks into your mouth spraying hot thick ropes of cum down your throat. You swallow every drop of him, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths as he slides his dick out of your mouth and pulls your hair, making you sit up. His lips crash into yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth, tasting the remains of your combined arousal. He releases the grip on your hair, bringing his hand down to your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he pulls you in further, sighing into you before he pulls away.

You look up, your gaze meeting the smirk on his face before noticing the smug fucking look in his eyes. You roll your eyes, curling your lips into a grin, “What’s that look for?”

“You had a hard time staying quiet in public,” he says, smiling mischievously at you. “I’m wondering what you’d sound like if I fucked you somewhere else.”

Your eyes narrow. How is he still such a sexy fucking asshole. “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory,” you say, smirking as you lean in, looking up at him, legs dangling off the desk.

"Tch," Katsuki eyes you, his scarlet eyes scanning your body as he steps out from between your legs, pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He looks over at you, "Then, I don’t know what you’re still sitting there for. I’ve gotta clean up the mess you made.”

You grin at him, the irony of him fucking you until your neighbors can hear you screaming almost makes you laugh, pushing the thought of your class project completely out of your mind.

Tags: @sweet-darling91 @aztecbrujeria @tarot-milktea I love you guys 💜 If anyone else wants to be tagged lmk :)

[patchofsunlight]

Back to You | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Fire Lord Zuko falls in love with one of the Kyoshi Warriors sent to protect him. Thankfully, she falls in love with him too.

WORD COUNT: 5.2k I wanted it to be shorter than Pretty Eyes and succeeded... kind of

WARNINGS: okay so there’s some kissing, some swear words, some obvious mutual pining, some frustration, and that’s it. it’s pure fluff ngl

I hope you all like it! I actually had a lot of fun writing this and I think it came out pretty nice. Also requests are open! Thank you for reading and here we go.

“Hey, Fire Lord, your date is here.”

“Y/N, we’ve talked about this. You can call me Zuko, and it is a diplomatic meeting, not a date.”

“You sure? He’s wearing such nice clothes. I can do your hair real quick if you want, get you ready and cute in like five minutes.”

“No, Y/N, thank you. You can let Ambassador Gamu in.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be just outside the door if you need me.”

“Of course.”

Zuko tried to ignore the cheeky blink the Kyoshi Warrior sent his way before leaving his office, a teasing grin adorning her painted face. When Suki told him she would bring the most experienced and talented of her warriors alongside her to protect him and serve as his guards, he definitely did not think he would have to deal with someone like Y/N.

He knew she was, for sure, a strong and intelligent fighter, being Suki’s second in command and impressively skillful with every single one of her weapons. He had watched her spar with her companions more than once and seeing Y/N fight never failed to take his breath away until his lungs were filled with only admiration and pride. However, one could call her less than professional, and her treating of the Fire Lord troubled most of the palace’s staff. And yet, to be honest, Zuko found it really hard to pretend he didn’t absolutely adore her.

Y/N felt like a breath of fresh air, like sunshine on a cloudy day, like seabreeze. He loved the way she always teased him and tried to make him laugh, loved the way she seemed to brighten up every room she walked into. Somehow she managed to bring joy to the same place he always associated with sadness and anger — every corner of the palace was happier with her around. That’s why he chose to keep her as his closest guard, even after every single one of his advisors told him time and time again to send the disrespectful Kyoshi Warrior away. Zuko knew he probably should, but he was slowly learning how to accept and cherish the things that made him feel like smiling, and Y/N was undoubtedly on that list.

He refused to admit how in love he was with her. He had convinced himself it was nothing but a crush, some sort of appreciation for her amazing fighting skills, but a small part of him knew that was not true. He had it bad for her and would kill a man to keep a smile on her face any day of the week.

“It is very good to know the Earth Kingdom is so willing to tighten its relationships with the Fire Nation, Ambassador Gamu. I hope I can assist you in every way possible to guarantee a brilliant future for all nations.”

The Earth Kingdom official smiled politely, “thank you very much, Fire Lord Zuko. Nevertheless, it is crucial you are made aware that not all our citizens are happy with the new… Arrangements between our countries. I heard you have had a similar problem here, haven’t you? I truly hope the Kyoshi Warriors have been good servants and protectors, sir.”

Zuko couldn’t help the upwards movement of his lips as he gazed at Y/N’s silhouette through the door crack. “They certainly have,” he watched her look behind her, probably feeling his stare, and grinned when she shot out her tongue at him in an amusing manner, “I am extremely grateful for having them here with me.”

-----

“Hey, Fire Lord, your date is here.”

He glanced up from his desk and furrowed his eyebrows at her, “it’s Zuko, and I don’t have any meetings scheduled for today.”

Y/N beamed and he was sure his heart did a somersault inside his chest, “I know! I was talking about me. I’m your date.”

He lightly blushed, “what?”

“Come on, Fire Lord, you’ve been working for hours on end. You need to take a break,” she scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment and thanked every spirit there was for the white paint hiding her reddened cheeks, “I thought we could take a walk around the palace, y’know? I’ll be beside you doing the whole protecting thing and you can rest a bit from the whole rebuilding the Fire Nation thing.”

Zuko hesitated, “I don’t know, Y/N. I really need to finish this,” he gestured to the awaiting letters and reports in front of him, “I can’t simply leave. I have obligations as Fire Lord and—”

“I’m aware of that,” she bit down on her lower lip teasingly and he couldn’t help but think about the inevitable gasps she would have earned if anyone else heard her interrupt him like that, “but you shouldn’t overwork yourself. Besides, I’m tired of standing around doing nothing. Please? It will be so fast no one will even notice you’re gone!”

He sighed, “Y/N…”

“Please, Zuko?”

It was probably the first time she had ever called him by his name. She knew how much he hated being called Fire Lord, only accepting it during important gatherings, assemblies or introductions, but insisted on calling him by that anyway. Zuko was absolutely sure she only did it to spite him and had to admit it was kind of endearing — he loved the small ways she found of constantly challenging him. However, he quickly learned he loved hearing her say his name a lot more.

He sat up suddenly, “five minutes.”

Y/N grinned so brightly he had to bit back his own smile, “fifteen!”

“This is not a negotiation. Five minutes and then I’ll come back to my duties as a leader.”

“Okay, okay. Ten minutes then.”

“What? No, I didn’t agree to that.”

“Oh? I’m sorry, Fire Lord. Fifteen it is.”

Zuko opened his mouth to oppose when he heard her chuckle in amusement before taking a hold of his arm and pulling him towards the gardens.

“We could feed the turtleducks, but I don’t really think that’s a good idea,” she chattered lightly, somewhat begrudgingly letting him walk arm in arm with her instead of keeping on dragging him around, “I already did that earlier today.”

He wrinkled his nose and stared at her with a silent question in his eyes, “why did you feed the turtleducks? We have people here to do that.”

“I know,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “but they are cute so I asked to feed them,” she threw him a smile, “I’m pretty sure they liked me.”

Zuko shook his head cheerfully and smiled back almost instantly, “Of course they did. How could they not?”

She turned her head to look at him so quickly he wondered how she didn’t get whiplash. The Kyoshi Warrior smirked, “are you flirting with me, Fire Lord?”

There was a tingling session going through his body as the color red creeped upon his neck, face and ears. Zuko wanted to say something smooth like “yes, I have been for a while, haven’t you noticed?” or “how could I not flirt with such a pretty lady like you?”, but he only managed to stutter, slightly panic, and then answer in a high-pitched voice, “what? No! What?”

Y/N lifted her free arm in surrender, trying not to laugh at his reaction, “alright, sorry for asking,” she smirked again before muttering, “I wouldn’t mind if you were, though.”

The Fire Lord’s eyes widened in surprise at her words, his tone now back to normal, “what do you mean?”

For some reason, his inquiry seemed to make her self-conscious of their conversation topic. Zuko wished for nothing more than to punch himself in the face. “It’s nothing. I was just joking.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Great. Look, it’s been five minutes already!” she stared at her wrist so confidently he almost didn’t notice the lack of anything to actually check the time there. “You must go back to your Fire Lord things, right, Fire Lord?”

“We can still go see the turtleducks if you want?”

“Don’t worry! We can do that another time, when you’re not busy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Hey, that’s Suki! I need to talk to her! Bye!”

“What? Y/N—”

“Bye, Fire Lord!”

Y/N was going absolutely crazy. When Suki first brought her to the Fire Nation to protect the so-called revolutionary and strong new Fire Lord, she had been skeptical. After all her years training and helping people around the nations with the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors, she couldn’t care less about the damn Fire Lord — she had spent a long time locked up after Azula and her stupid gang captured them and no new or old Fire Lord had come to their rescue. In conclusion, the bitch could catch on fire himself and be an On-Fire Lord for all she cared (she had spent too long thinking about that joke but that definitely did not matter), even though Suki had told her she knew the guy and that he was a great person or whatever.

Now she was biting her own tongue and trying to keep from flirting with him. In her defense, though, Zuko was a thousand times more good-looking and a billion times nicer than she expected him to be. She couldn’t help but always look for ways to make him smile, loving all his little quirks and habits, and suddenly found herself by his side a lot more than she needed to. She constantly acted as a personal guard, waiting outside his door during private meetings and accompanying him on walks, assemblies and gatherings in a somewhat intimate manner. She didn’t need to be right beside him the whole time — she could protect him from afar and maintain her distance like the other Kyoshi Warriors had chosen to, but Y/N simply didn’t want that. The stupid feelings she was slowly building towards the Fire Lord were dangerous at worst and annoying at best, constantly distracting her from her duties and responsibilities as Suki’s second in command.

It was infuriating, since love and relationships had never been really the type of stuff Y/N liked to partake in. She was good at fighting and giving witty responses and making jokes, but not at liking someone. Specially not liking Fire Lord Zuko, who was one of the most powerful people in the world and would certainly end up marrying some rich Fire Nation girl to guarantee a great and honorable successor to the throne or something like that.

When she finally went back to her individual palace room after a long day of trying not to embarrass herself in front of Zuko anymore and just all-around avoiding talking with him, she sat down before the mirror and started to take her facepaint off. That part of her routine, alongside putting on the paint in the mornings, had always felt like a ritual of sorts, calming her down and enabling her to let go of any unimportant worries. 

Y/N let out a tired sigh, stared at her bare face and grinned. She might have fallen in love with the Fire Lord, but at least living in the palace allowed her to sneak into the kitchens in the middle of the night and steal some fruit tarts. She got up from her spot in front of the mirror and exited the room as quietly as possible, strongly believing that eating something would take her mind off the Fire Lord and his beautiful golden eyes. 

-----

After another full hour of fruitlessly waiting for sleep, Zuko decided to put on an old cloak and walk around his palace. Pacing had always made wonders for helping him collect his thoughts and calm down from whatever it was that troubled him that day. It was not the first time he took on that habit and it would not be the last.

He honestly didn’t notice the person creeping up on him until he was pinned to a wall, an arm to his throat not pressing hard enough to hurt him, but enough to quicken his heartbeat. Zuko stared at the one responsible for the assault with confusion shining in his eyes, unable to recognize her without her greasepaint until she blinked and stepped back.

“Fire Lord?”

He widened his eyes, “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I was headed for the kitchens. What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

“No. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“I see,” she nodded and yawned, averting her eyes from him, “you shouldn’t be out and about without a guard, tho. You know that.”

“I’m pretty capable of protecting myself, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

He crossed his arms in defense, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“Do you want to go grab some snacks with me?”

“I—” he stared at her, for the first time seeing her blush under his gaze, “okay.”

“Great! Let’s go, Fire Lord.”

Zuko stayed quiet while they walked through the palace. He watched Y/N greet every single night servant they met on their way, earning big smiles and excited waves. For some reason, knowing how loved she was by his workers made his heart swell with pride. She would make an excellent Fire Queen someday. Or Fire Lady. Was there an official name for the Fire Lord’s wife? He couldn’t remember.

Zuko felt all the blood in his body drop to his feet when he noticed where his thoughts had wandered to. He shouldn’t think about Y/N as his wife — she was merely a protector, the help. He was not in love with her and therefore should not deliberate such things, not even by accident.

But he had never seen her bare faced before and he couldn’t help but take note of how alluring she was. He had always considered her pretty, but now he could really see her and she was so much more than just pretty.

“Come on, Fire Lord. I’m sure they have fruit tarts.”

He smiled as she sneaked inside the door to the kitchens, following soon after. In a matter of minutes they were sat before each other on the ground, sharing a bunch of fruit tarts Y/N had found hidden inside one of the cabinets. There was a comfortable silence surrounding them and Zuko appreciated how easy it was to be near her, without expectations or curious looks. Whenever he was next to the Kyoshi Warrior, he came close to forgetting his titles and obligations, satisfied with being simply who he was.

It felt nice.

“You look good with your hair down,” she announced suddenly, unaware of the thoughtful look on his face, “I like it.”

He felt his cheeks burn, “thank you, Y/N,” the young Fire Lord inhaled deeply to gather the courage necessary to express the response that came to mind, “you look good all the time.”

She stilled her movements with a fruit tart inches from her mouth, eyes blinking in surprise. After a tense moment, she grinned and lowered her arm, “do you really think so or are you just being nice?”

“I mean it, Y/N. You are… You are absolutely beautiful.”

The pair studied each other for a few instants, eyes sparkling with a breathtaking feeling both easily recognized but were not ready just yet to deal with. Y/N beamed at him, her face pink at the compliment. Zuko could feel his heart twist and turn inside his chest, butterflies flying in his stomach. “Why, thank you, Fire Lord. For the record, I have found you beautiful since I first saw you. I was expecting some rude and cranky old guy and there you were, with your pretty eyes and nervous smile. It was pleasant in a very surprising way.”

The Fire Lord was pretty sure she could hear his heartbeat as she leaned in almost subconsciously, her smile brightening up every small spot his eyes could see of the dark kitchen. 

He was, indeed, very much in love with her, and there was no use in denying it, not while she averted her gaze to his lips and seemed to get closer and closer until their noses touched. Zuko’s breath hitched inside his throat as her lips ghosted his, eyes fluttering close before a loud bang sent them jumping in opposite directions, searching the source of the noise.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

The Kyoshi Warrior scratched her neck shyly, adamantly avoiding Zuko’s stare, “yes, Izum. How are you?”

The servant walked up to her with crossed arms, “I told you to stop invading the kitchens at night! You’re gonna put an end to our fruit tart stock, young lady.”

The Fire Lord watched the interaction curiously. Y/N and Izum smirked at each other as if they were old friends. “Well, if you don’t want me to steal your fruit tarts, you should maybe stop making the best fruit tarts in the entire universe.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, honey.”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Fire Lord Zuko will be alerted about this.”

“I think he might already know.”

The young man seemed to finally notice Zuko’s presence, widening his eyes in surprise and bowing respectfully, “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t see you there, it’s too dark and—”

“It’s fine, Izum, don’t worry. We’ll be off your kitchens in a second. Right, Y/N?”

“Of course,” she brushed the dust off her pants and walked to stand beside the Fire Lord, ignoring her friend’s raised brows, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will,” Izum looked from her to Zuko and then back to her, a teasing smile on his face when he greeted them goodbye, “good night, Y/N. Good night, Fire Lord Zuko.”

“How do you know him?” the Fire Lord asked after they left the kitchen, some sort of discomfort growing inside him at the way the Kyoshi Warrior had interacted with the servant.

“Oh, Izum is a good friend. He regrets deeply telling me where they keep the fruit tarts, but it’s too late now. We met during my first week here.”

“I see.”

“Let me take you back to your room, Fire Lord. It is already very late.”

Despite his unacknowledged jealousy, he wasn’t fast enough to bit back his smirk, “shouldn’t I be the one leading you to your room?”

“I am the guard, Zuko. I am the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”

He chuckled, “right.”

“I can put you to bed if you want, I used to do that to my younger sibling sometimes.”

“Shut up, Y/N.”

She threw her had back in laughter and he grinned.

They didn’t ever talk about what happened (or more accurately didn’t happen) during that dark night in the kitchens. Zuko was progressively busier with meetings and peace treaties, slowly putting the Fire Nation back in good rails. Y/N would routinely force him to take a break every once in a while, be it by leading him outside his office or taking his attention away from work and starting conversation.

Spirits, he was so in love with her.

It was during one of those breaks that one of her fellow Kyoshi Warriors knocked on his workroom’s door and entered with a nervous look on her face, nodding at him in respect before turning her attention to her friend, “Y/N?”

The young warrior smiled, “hey, Naya. Is everything alright?”

“Suki wants to speak with you. Privately.”

Y/N’s expression was instantly filled with worry and concentration. She gripped her katana tightly, walking towards the girl, “I want three warriors guarding the Fire Lord at all times, we are not taking chances regarding his safety. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Y/N.”

“Good,” she turned to Zuko, her stone-cold face easing momentarily. She marched up to him with conviction before planting a kiss on his cheek that made his body burn with surprise and happiness. “Be careful, Fire Lord. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“I—I… I mean… I’m—” he kept on stuttering, unable to form an entire sentence with his feelings all over the place, “You… I—”

She smirked, walking away backwards, “see you, Zuko.”

Naya looked at him with a cheeky smile after Y/N left the room, crossing her arms and staring in a teasing manner. Zuko was still rooted into place, widened eyes and reddened cheeks watching the now closed door. “Are you alright, Fire Lord Zuko?”

“I—yeah. I am. Yes,” his tone was definitely not as certain as he wanted it to be, “of course.”

The girl giggled, “sure.”

The Fire Lord would only see his favorite guard again on the following day. She came to visit him in his office and had a gravity to her eyes that he was unfamiliar with, lips pressed together in determination.

“What happened?” he immediately asked, the letter he was working on quickly forgotten. “Are you okay?”

“There have been attacks to the warriors in Kyoshi Island,” she declared, “not everyone is happy with our new arrangements. People think Earth Kingdom fighters shouldn’t be helping the Fire Nation in any way.”

“Oh,” he managed to answer, anxiety building up inside him at her hardened expression. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Zuko,” she looked away from him, “but we can’t leave our companions to fend for themselves.”

He could feel his heartbeat pick up, “I see.”

“Suki is sending me back to Kyoshi Island,” Y/N confessed, a hint of sadness to her tone, “I’m her second in command and I should be there to help our warriors through this.”

A heavy silence fell upon the room, tension sparkling between the couple. He knew what that piece of information meant, knew what it would cause.

“You’re leaving.”

She softened almost instantly, taking a step closer to him and then hesitating, “no!” he stared and she sighed, “I mean, yes, but I’ll return when it’s over,” she looked at him with some sort of desperation, eagerly searching for something she couldn’t find, “when everything’s done and dealt with, I’ll return.”

Zuko nodded, a disheartening sting running through his chest, “I understand. Leaving is your duty as a leader.”

“I’m not leaving, Zuko,” another step, “I’ll come back. I’ll—” she hesitated, taking a final step towards him and reaching for his hand uncertainly, “I’ll come back to the Fire Nation,” she interlaced their fingers carefully, “I’ll come back to you.”

It was his turn to step closer, bringing his free hand up to her face and sighing when she leaned onto it, hopeful eyes shining at him. When he finally spoke, his voice was a whisper, “will you?”

She chuckled sadly, moving to rest her forehead on his, staining his face with the white paint and rubbing circles alongside the back of his hand with her thumb, “I will. You are not getting rid of me this easily, Fire Lord.”

“Good. I didn’t want to.”

She smiled. On that exact moment, Suki opened the door and studied the scene before her with a bittersweet gaze, “Y/N, it’s time to go.”

His chest clenched in pain and distress, glancing from Suki to Y/N with anguish, “you are going now?”

The Kyoshi Warrior distanced herself from him and Zuko could’ve sworn he felt physical pain at the space between them, “I’ll come back, Zuko. I promise.”

-----

It was like he had a constant sunshine right beside him and now it was gone. He was pretty sure every single person in the palace had noticed the liking he had taken to moping around and staring sadly at the turtleducks, missing the one he had come to love. He thought his feelings for her would subside after her departure, but, oh dear, was he wrong. The deep ache that settled in his chest was enough to constantly remind him of how much he liked her, how much he missed her. Not having her around hurt so much that it became inconvenient, making it difficult to work and complete his responsibilities when he was constantly thinking about her safety and about what could have been if she had stayed just a little longer. Zuko thought they had finally reached the start of something new but she wasn’t here anymore and he would have to wait to find out.

Suki tried to report to him what was going on at Kyoshi Island whenever she could. Y/N was working hard to calm down the conflicts while at the same time training the new and old Kyoshi Warriors as well as possible. Suki told him it would take a while until things were okay enough for Y/N to return to the Fire Nation, but it would happen eventually.

He was so desperately in love it was embarrassing. He craved her presence, her voice, her laugh, her touch. He wondered if she felt the same and concluded that no, probably not. To be honest, however, he would accept anything coming from her, even some second-hand love. He would still be happy if she decided to settle for him after being made aware of his feelings.

The Fire Lord was adamant on telling her everything he felt when she came back — and she would come back, she had promised —, because being away from Y/N made him realize how much happier he was with her and he refused to let her leave again without knowing that he just absolutely adored her.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt incredibly overwhelmed. Between helping train the Kyoshi Warriors and trying to solve any misunderstanding with the Earth Kingdom citizens in a diplomatic way, she found it hard to breathe. It was somehow good, to be honest, because it didn’t leave her with much time to think about him. And, Spirits, did she think about him when she could. She was extremely excited to finally go back to the Fire Nation and just be by his side again.

There was a part of her that worried. Even though they had had multiple moments when she truly believed he felt the same, they never really spoke about it. Zuko didn’t seem the best at communication, and Y/N generally chose to joke around and tease instead of actually voicing her emotions. 

“Miss Y/N, you must understand—”

“No, Mung, you and your so-called rebels are the ones who are not understanding. Fire Lord Zuko is trying to rebuild and strengthen the ties with Earth Kingdom in a healthy way for both nations—”

“But Miss Y/N—”

“—and the Kyoshi Warriors are collaborating with that by being a part of the official guard. How, for Spirits’ sake, is you attacking my warriors a good way of achieving anything you might want to achieve?”

The man swallowed harshly while he fidgeted. Y/N had worked hard to get a meeting with the rebels on Kyoshi Island, but was pleasantly surprised to notice how unorganized they were. “The Kyoshi Warriors shouldn’t collaborate with the Fire Nation, Miss Y/N,” a young man guarding the rebel leader’s door interrupted their staring contest, “the Fire Nation has done nothing but cause destruction and suffering. We won’t have our beloved warriors being corrupted by such a horrible mindset as the Fire Nation’s.”

“I appreciate your concern, but Zuko,” she cleared her throat in embarrassment at the verbal slip, “Fire Lord Zuko is different. He cares about people and he seeks redemption for Fire Nation’s wrongdoings. Having a good relationship with him is a great deal for the Earth Kingdom, believe me.”

The two men exchanged a look before returning their gaze to her. She tried to bit back a smile when she noticed the meaningful expression on their faces, signalizing she might finally be able to go home.

She tensed at the thought. Was that what Fire Nation was now? Home? 

Or was she ready to admit the real home she had been thinking of was a certain Fire Lord all along?

-----

It was a hot day in the Fire Nation and Zuko was busy with his daily amount of sulking and missing his favorite girl when he heard a commotion going on somewhere near him. He confusedly followed the sound, finding the Kyoshi Warriors gathered around and talking loudly. The Fire Lord furrowed his brows.

“Is everything okay?” his voice quieted them down and he watched while the young fighters exchanged knowing looks. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, Fire Lord, it did,” his heartbeat picked up immediately and he turned towards the voice he had fallen in love with, finding her dazzling smile. Y/N crossed her arms in a teasing manner, “told you I’d come back.”

Zuko stared at her while the other warriors scrambled towards somewhere else, aiming to leave the couple alone. He smirked, “you did tell me.”

She walked closer to him until they were chest to chest, and he wondered if she could feel his jumping heart against her, “I think I even made a promise.”

“You surely did.”

Y/N grinned, “well, then I guess—”

“I’m in love with you.”

This was not in his plans. He meant to say a lot of things about how he slowly fell for her during the months they spent together, but Zuko simply couldn’t help from blurting a confession out like a dumbass. He had craved being around her so much during these weeks apart and now she was finally there, just within reach. He couldn’t take any more dancing around each other.

She beamed, “that surely makes this less awkward.”

“Wait, what?”

Before he could wrap his head around her words, Y/N took a hold of his collar and pulled him to her, gazing at his lips as their noses touched, just like weeks ago in the kitchens. She smiled softly, eyes fluttering close, “I’m in love with you too, Fire Lord.”

“Oh, thank the fucking Spirits.”

The Kyoshi Warrior laughed against his mouth, sending a tingling sensation down his back. His hands held onto her waist, extinguishing any space between them before he kissed her deeply, relief and happiness flooding his senses all at once. His own personal sunshine was finally next to him again and he revelled from the pure warmth she provided, chasing all insecurities and fears away until only his love remained.

“I missed you,” he mumbled on her lips, so intoxicated by her presence he could have forgotten how to breathe.

He could literally feel her smile between kisses, “I missed you too, Zuko,” she moved slightly away so to be able to stare at his eyes, “but don’t you worry, Fire Lord. I’ll always come back to you.”

Zuko chuckled, “you’re so cheesy.”

“You love it. Can I be even cheesier?”

“Go ahead, pretty girl.”

“Hey, Fire Lord, your new permanent date is here, and she’s not leaving.”

“That was horrible, Y/N. But good to know.”

He attached his lips to hers again and, for the first time, Zuko didn’t have a single worry for the future or for his fate. For better or for worse, he had his favorite guard by his side, and that was enough.

ATLA taglist: @bottledcostcowater​ @officiallydarkgeek (for some reason I can’t tag you I’m sorry??) and @beifongsss​ and @azucanela​ I know you didn’t ask to be tagged but you didn’t seem to mind last time so here I am again?? if you don’t want to be tagged anymore just lmk!!

I hope you liked it!!

[snowbearyy]

Can I get the reaction of the Brothers randomly getting dumped by MC with no reason, only to find out later that MC was insecure and thought it was better since he such a powerful demon that he was too good for MC? Thank you!

(This took forever. Sorry! And I changed formats about halfway through, so that's why Levi's is like that. I didn't really know how to convert it... 😂)

Lucifer

He would be very angry and upset but he wouldn't show it

He'd probably stay in his room for hours during the day just to avoid you

When he'd cross your path, he'd just nod awkwardly

The brothers would be so frustrated with this because there'd be a weird tension in the house

But he's mature to a point, so after a few days he'd want to sit down and have a serious conversation with you

After you tell him the reason you broke up with him, he'd be baffled but relieved at the same time

Relieved that he didn't do anything to hurt you, but baffled by the fact that you felt that way

"MC... I understand that I am a powerful demon, but you are a powerful human. I would not be so infatuated with you if I did not believe you were strong, capable, and worthy. I have never once thought I was too good for you. I love you. You're the only person in the three worlds I want to be with." He grabs your hand, "Now, would you be mine again?"

Mammon

He would be crushed

He'd refuse to come out of his room

When he'd have to, he wouldn't make eye contact with anybody

If he had something to tell you, he'd ask one of his brothers to tell you for him

Everyone would definitely be annoyed

When you tell him how you feel, he has conflicting emotions

He doesn't know whether to be flattered that you viewed him so highly or concerned at your level of insecurity

"I mean, yeah, we're powerful demons, but I didn't know you... I- I mean, why would The Great Mammon be with anybody he didn't think was equally as great?! There's no reason for you to be insecure around me. I love you, you know! So just... don't worry about stuff like that, okay?"

Levi

This man would be beyond shattered.

If you think he holed himself up in his room a lot now, you ain't seen nothing yet.

The vibes surrounding his room would be just dreadful.

Nobody would even bother asking him to come out for anything.

You knew he had snacks and stuff in there, but you were concerned about his nutrition so you decided to check on him. When you knocked, there was no answer. The door wasn't locked and there was no request for a password. When you walked in, you saw him in front of his TV with his headphones on, playing a game. You tap on his shoulder and he flinches, face dropping as soon as he sees you. "Levi, can I talk to you?" you ask. He tries to seem nonchalant but you can tell he's very nervous. You explain to him everything you've been feeling and he looks confused, but a bit more relaxed. "You... felt that way about me?" Processing this information takes a few moments for him. "Well, I... I don't really see why you would! I guess I could be considered a powerful demon, but what good is it when I'm like this?! Please don't.. feel that way about a shut-in like me. You're far more amazing! I don't consider myself 'too good' for anything, especially not you! So can we.. go back to the way things were? Please?"

Satan

On the surface, he would be very mature about it. He wouldn't lock himself away in his room or avoid you.

He would try to act like everything was normal

In private, though, he'd be fuming

He'd get really irritated at minor things and snap at his brothers occasionally

Though, he would start to suspect there were strange reasons as to why you broke up with him

He would confront you

When you explain it to him, he'd be really happy

Like an "oh, that's it? we can work it out" type feeling

"I understand, MC. I realize it can be a bit intimidating, but I hope you know nobody views you as a lesser being. You're smart and wonderful and you've changed our lives for the better. I'm especially grateful to you. Because you taught me what it's like to truly love someone. And if you allowed me to continue loving you, I'd greatly appreciate it. Even if you said no, I'd do it anyway."

Asmodeus

He'd be super confused

Like, what did he do wrong?

He'd take a few days to himself

And then after that, he'd convince himself he was back to normal but everybody could tell he's upset

But I think he'd be really upfront about wanting to know the reason why

So it wouldn't take long for him to ask for an explanation and understand everything

He'd also be shocked that that was your reason

"MC... We're totally different species! It's pointless to compare yourself to me. You have so many great qualities, too! I could list them for hours. And I will! But right now, I'm telling you this: I love you more than anything! So I'm not letting you go!"

Beelzebub

He'd feel so guilty and worried that he did something to hurt you

But he'd respect your decision

He wouldn't really know how to treat you after that

Should he give you some space or act like nothing happened?

Because of this, he'd probably end up distancing himself from you regardless

Explaining everything to him gives him peace of mind

And now he's determined to build you up

"I'm sorry you felt that way. If there's anything I can do to make you feel less insecure, please let me know and I'll do it. But you're not weak by any means. And I'm proud of you every day. So, please don't compare yourself. You are perfect. And I love you so much."

Belphegor

He would be... depressed

He'd sleep a lot more than he usually does

He wouldn't blame you, but he'd be upset with himself

He wouldn't want you to see him so he'd hide in the attic or his room most of the day

After talking to him, though, he feels better

He understands you 100%

"I can see why you'd feel like that, but... you're too important to me to give up. I've never compared you to anyone because you're so special. If you think anything can stop me from loving you, you're wrong."

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Scream Therapy

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x gender neutral!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: extremely vague allusions to mental illness, metaphors about wounds, angst with a relieving ending, let me know if i’ve missed something

AO3 mirror

So you know those tiktoks where people go out into the woods and scream? Just like expel all the shit that’s been holding them down into an open field and let the earth reclaim all their dark, restless energy? Reveal the burdens that have been creaking in their joints and trapped in the prison of their ribs for the trees to swallow?

I’ve been thinking about that and Shigaraki a lot. 

Like the rest of the league too, but mostly Shigs. 

Just imagine: 

It’s late, it always is when shit is going down at the hideout. The League of Villains is practically nocturnal at this point. Shigaraki’s mind is a loud place—lot’s of rabid, train tearing down the track lines of thought that clatter and roar and gush toxic coal smoke.

So as annoyed as he makes himself out to be, he doesn’t actually mind the din of the bar all that much. Twice and Toga chattering in the corner, random bits of too loud laughter and the clink of Kurogiri polishing glasses as he tells off Dabi for the umpteenth time about smoking inside—hell, even Compress rambling about the health benefits of high quality wine to nobody in particular is somewhat...comforting?

That’s not quite the right word, but their noise settles around him a bit like a thick quilt and dampens the rampage inside his head for a while.

He thinks about a lot of things.

Some good, most bad, all obsessive. He’ll get stuck in these loops sometimes, small questions evolve into bigger, more complicated webs, and suddenly it’s been four hours and he’s done nothing but stare at the same spot on the wall just left of his desktop monitor.

Sleep is a terrifying venture for much the same reason. Once he gets caught in that cycling it’s so hard to break out, and that’s when he’ll stumble down the stairs and sequester himself away at the end of the bar.

There he will sit and listen to the incessant white noise of his team—which is frustrating too but infinitely better than whatever anxiety coated sludge his brain will come up with if left to its own devices, so he bears it.

And then there’s you.

Who you are isn’t entirely important.

Maybe you’re just another member of the League, dedicated to helping your boss spread villainy across the city. Maybe you’re a morally ambiguous civilian who just stumbled in much like a stray cat into a depressed college student’s apartment and simply never left.

Whatever the circumstances, where you came from doesn’t matter.

To him, your contributions to the din are just another layer of insulation against the storm. He couldn’t really care less what you do, or where you go when you weren’t there. As long as your voice could offer a different type of grating against his ears than the silent throbbing of his head when he is alone, then your presence is justified.

Shigaraki only takes notice of you when you leave, when your voice is no longer adding to the uproar drowning out whatever new thought spiral he was trying to claw his way out of.

It’s very late then. That odd, in between time when it’s closer to the sunrise than to it’s setting but somehow also the darkest portion of the night. Of course, it’s never totally dark—not with all the light pollution laying an ever present, glowing haze across the horizon—but it’s as close as it gets out here to pitch black.

He catches the tail end of your coat, a glimpse of your shoe soles as you slip up the stairs and climb the wrought iron ladder that leads to the roof. Shigaraki often catches himself wondering how you figured out exactly how to avoid each board that creaked. He thinks sometimes it’s because you like going unnoticed, that too much attention makes you feel just as shaky as he gets when he’s been inside his head too long. Or possibly you just don’t want to wake anyone up in the rare moments that some League members are actually asleep.

Regardless, he watches you go and feels strangely...compelled to follow and because he rarely feels compelled to do anything unless it’s furthering the downfall of hero society, he does.

He takes an unsteady step, then another until the brisk, cusp-of-summer air is washing over him. It bites through his thin black top and the worn holes in his jeans, but the sting feel likes something.

And since he almost always feels nothing at all, it’s good.

You’re stood a few feet from the edge of the building, where the ledge has begun to crumble away from age and poor maintenance. The wind is strong enough that it makes your limp arms sway by your sides. Shigaraki is so thin now, he’s almost afraid for a moment it might blow him away. He’s found himself feeling so insubstantial as of late, it’s shocking when his feet don’t lift off from the roof entirely. He crosses the distance towards you slowly. 

If you hear him approaching, you don’t show it.

Normally he wouldn’t start a conversation of his own volition but he did follow you up here and the silence is getting a bit deafening, even with the breeze.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

It’s simple, but it’s all he can think to say. Funny, with how many words that run through his head, he can never find the right ones when he wants them.

You turn then, and your face is...well it’s a face. He tends not to look at people’s faces much—doesn’t want to see their expressions when they look at him, but from what he can tell you aren’t upset that he’s here at least.

“I love the city at night.”

That’s all you offer in response and he knows somehow that you’ll keep talking even if he doesn’t answer. That you know how much he hates the quiet but can’t ever fill it himself.

“When you’re up high enough, you can pretend the streetlights are stars,” you divulge, as if it’s some sort of great, long kept secret.

Maybe it is.

Maybe you have a lot of secrets. You seem to him like the type of person who would. Who keeps life changing truths tucked under your tongue to drop suddenly over convenience store dinners and cheap beer.

He thinks that maybe he’d like to know them.

“It’s always so alive during the day, the streets I mean,” you continue, eyes trained out on the buildings below, tracing constellations from block to block. “But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s rotting too like….”

You trail off and don’t finish the thought, but you don’t have to. He knows what you mean: like the city is a wound that’s festering. That all the people and the heroes that corral them like cattle are just an infection waiting to spread.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, because he hasn’t been able to come up with anything else.

Your gaze flits over his face this time, and Shigaraki almost misses the small smile that plays at your lips. He’s close enough now that you could touch him, and you almost do, shoulders just inches away from brushing. But you don’t close the gap.

You touch the others, a lot actually, though he gets the sense you’re the type to ask first. And with his mind running on overdrive every waking second, he gets overstimulated easily. He should probably be thankful you aren’t as familiar with him. That you bother to notice the distance he keeps even when he rarely pays you any mind.

Maybe you’re thankful for that too.

“You know, scream therapy is a very effective and cheap alternative to professional intervention,” you say matter of factly in response.

He waits for you to continue and you do.

“There’s no one out this late but heroes on patrols and they won’t come to help us, so this is a perfect opportunity to give it a try.”

He can feel his brow knitting together and you raise your hand for a second as if to smooth your thumb over the wrinkled skin. Shigaraki doesn’t move, but watches your fingers pause in mid motion and drop back down.

There’s a strange charge in the air between you—a spark he distantly wishes would ignite if only so he could stop churning in his gut.

“How do you do it?”

He’s never asked so many questions of anyone in his life. But he finds he truly wants to know.

And you’re the one that can show him.

You breathe deeply beside him, letting your eyes drift shut and taking a step towards the ledge. With hands balled into righteous little fists, you bend a bit at the waist and you...scream.

Shigaraki isn’t quite sure what he’d expected, but for some reason it wasn’t that.

He’s heard shouts before, cries for help or out of fear, but nothing like this. The sound seems to bubble up from some deep, dank pit inside you and bursts forth from your mouth like a geyser spewing boiling water from the earth. It’s long and low and loudloudloud. It isn’t a sound he could ever imagine you making, but it rumbles in his chest as if it’s his own.

Just watching has a weight lifting from his shoulders.

You keep going even when he knows you should have run out of air. But you aren’t really making the noise, you’re just letting it escape. He’s not sure how he knows that but he does.

Your voice cracks and snaps and rages forth and you scream in a way he feels in his very bones. The garbled, awful sound is so clearly understandable despite the wind that carries it away.

It says: I am free and young and can feel none of it.

And then it’s words. Words that tumble from you in a torrent.

About your family, about what’s been done to you, what you’ve done to yourself.

About the lies and the injustice of it all.

You’re heaving by the end, deflated as though all the screams had left behind an empty space—an abscess drained and ready to heal over or fill back up.

“It’s your turn.”

Shigaraki stares at you, silhouetted by the dull, silver glow of the city and panting. You both look at each other for a moment, reveling in the odd connection that sometimes forms between strangers who know far too much about each other.

He doesn’t think he could top that, but the energy you’ve created is invigorating and he’s determined to ride the wave while he has it.

Taking a step, he joins you by the ledge again, and you back up as if allowing him into the spotlight. The wind will swallow whatever he says, it will eat the words like a starving behemoth and he finds himself ready to feed the beast.

He has to dig deep, scratch at old sores to make them bleed again, tear at scabs so he can let the contaminating thoughts leak out. Once he feels like he’s breached far enough, Shigaraki takes a breath.

And he screams.

His body doubles over with the strength of it, foot slamming down onto the roofing and four fingers fisted in the hem of his shirt.

It hurts coming out, rips at his vocal chords and has his throat raw to bleeding after just the first few seconds but he pushes past it.

He wonders if this is what a runner's high feels like, when you’ve pushed beyond the side stitches and knee aches and your blood finally rushes with all those elusive feel good chemicals he never has enough of.

Whatever it is, the feeling is addicting.

Shigaraki is dimly aware of you in his peripheral, encouraging the tsunami thoughts in his head to be thrust out into the uncaring arms of the city skyline.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have to search for the words. They simply come. All his frustrations, some he wasn’t even conscious of, spill fresh and steaming like blood. Physically, his body remains but somewhere in the depths of his mind he is younger and hurt and alone and trying desperately to scream.

“I destroy everything I touch!” he roars at the apathetic, grey sidewalk below.

After the last word leaves him, he feels the same weightlessness he’d seen in the sag of your shoulders. The same snapping of the coil slack in his spine.

And suddenly, with this glorious, awful sense of revelation, Shigaraki realizes that everything in his head has gone quiet.

He’s over taken by a silence that requires no filling, a peace that he’d imagined only existed at the bottom of abandoned wells, far away from any chubby child’s hands that may toss foolish wishes down them.

He thinks about kissing you then.

And he knows now that this thought has always been there, but it was drowned like a subway rat in the aftermath of the hurricane brewing in his brainstem. He has always noticed you no matter how hard you try to blend into the background. Your voice has always been a bit better at shutting out the unending, worthless choir in his head.

He wouldn’t have followed anyone else up here—not Dabi, not Spinner, not Compress or even Kurogiri.

He can see that now. In this new enlightened state, everything is so much clearer. Though he is quickly thrust back into the present, into his body once again, as another kind of soft weight settles on his shoulders. Your coat is skin warmed and smells like you and everything he’s ever loved in his own screwy little way. He realizes then that you’ve been trying to talk to him this whole time.

“Shigs,” you call again and tuck the coat tighter around his shoulders, “you were shaking.”

Shigaraki nods, feeling relief from the cold he hadn’t quite been aware of till now. He’s not sure if you’ve ever addressed him so informally before, but he decides he likes the nickname.

It feels a bit like a gift.

“Better, yeah?”

He’s not really sure if it’s better, but it is different and it’s been impossibly long since anything has been different, so he thinks it must be good.

“Yes,” he says.

It’s a general yes, both to your question and to you, whatever that might mean. He doesn’t say anything more because he’s done enough talking and you nod like you understand.

Neither of you moves to leave the roof, but you do inch closer to him this time, closing the gap and tucking him into your side. Your arm is slung gently across his shoulders and he finds the weight of it relieving.

That seems like it shouldn’t make since but it does—a paradox of sorts, weight being a comfort.

Then the sun begins to rise and it’s as if he’s seeing you in a new light.

Your profile outlined by the stark daybreak rays, so horribly strong despite the scream he knows is forming again under the surface.

And Shigaraki wonders if you see him that way too.

[paellaplease]

HAII!! if it hasnt been done yet, could you do revali x reader with basorexia? maybe reader really wants to give him a kiss but she really cant since,, yknow she has lips and he has a fuckin beak so she just decides to give him a lil smooch on the cheek? idk that was just an idea i had in mind, u dont have to write it!

22. basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss.

pairing: revali x reader summary:  revali spirits you away to enjoy the new years eve festivities.

   In the darkness of your room, you awoke to the sound of a soft tapping on your window. Twisting in the mess of blankets and pillows, you pushed aside the papers and textbooks that had accumulated at the foot of the bed, noticing only then that the candle at your desk had long since extinguished. 

Head pounding, you rubbed at your tired eyes, feeling heavy. How long had you been asleep?

The tapping grew more insistent, forcing you to get up. Grumbling, you allowed yourself a second to stretch, ignoring how your room felt like water sloshing in a glass. 

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on!" You said, hobbling to the window. Brushing the mess of hair from your eyes, you pulled the curtains away and roughly pushed it open. 

The culprit hovered outside, eyes bright and smug. Revali looked very much at home though he was floating at a dizzying distance away from the ground. In the sleepy haze, he looked like a painting of some myth you had read before, with the late night sky as his backdrop and the outline of your window as his frame. 

"Took you long enough."

"Apologies. I thought some tree branches were hitting the glass." 

The Rito made a show of turning in the air. "Funny, I don't see any nearby trees."

"I know," you sighed, disappointed. 

Revali rolled his eyes and poked his head through the window, feathers brushing past your cheek as he ignored your personal space in favour of scoping out your room. The stiff turn of his neck as he looked around reminded you of the curious and confused little birds that landed on the sill from time to time. 

"Quite a dreary home you have here." Gesturing to the overall darkness, he pointed to your stack of scattered papers. "You shouldn't study without proper lighting, it's bad for your eyes." 

"I was asleep."

"Why, I'm surprised. And here I thought you were one of the festive many who choose to stay awake at an ungodly hour in order to count down the remaining seconds of the year."

"Well," you shrugged, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Not like it's anything special. New year, same shit. What difference would a countdown do?" 

Biting down on your tongue, you stopped yourself from saying anymore. The cold breeze sifted past the light shirt you were wearing, making you shiver. 

He was right, normally you were one of those people who stayed up, excitedly watching the hands of the clocktower tick til they reached midnight. You enjoyed the energy of being in a collective crowd, waiting with bated breath for the first inhale and exhale you would take into the brand new year.

The final month on the Hylian calendar brought a sense of relief and a hope for new beginnings. Usually today of all days  you were at your happiest, jumping at the prospect of celebrating along with the rest of the kingdom and yet…

That sinking weight clawed at your chest again, forcing you to clamp down on it once more.

You grimaced. There it was; that bitter feeling. Hylia. How annoying. It twisted in your brain like an angry snake, pulling down your mood and enthusiasm along with it. 

Last year you wanted to cheer and dance until the morning light. Now all you felt like was staring at the wall. Or falling asleep. 

You blinked, turning back to the window to see Revali patiently waiting for you to continue. Feeling your face warm, you hustled your brain to get a move on. A coherent thought would be great right about…now!

"Hey have you ever wondered why they don't grow trees on this side of the castle? It's not fair the more expensive quarters get all the pretty greenery. I mean, non-noble guests still need that sweet oxygen everyone keeps raving about, you get me?" Shut up brain, that's enough. I said a coherent thought. C o h e r e n t. 

Stars in his wings, Revali shook his head but answered anyway. "I agree, it's hardly fair. Also go change into something warm, we need to get you outside."

"What? Why?"

Something in the Rito's expression clued you in to the fact that he wasn't in the mood to play stupid. You've been sitting in the dark for the past few days and it didn't take a private investigator to know it was playing tricks with your head. "Fine, but when I say we go back--we go back, got it?"

He huffed, turning around to give you some privacy. "I promise on my honour."

The brightly lit lanterns of the town square made you squint as you shuffled closer to your guide, the sound of the city loud in your ears.

Though less prominent, the twisting feeling in your gut continued, making you more hyper-alert than usual to the world around you. Adjusting the sleeves of your coat, you followed Revali past the streets, the Rito expertly navigating through the sea of people. 

Somewhere along the way he had taken your hand, and you told yourself it was a good way for you both to stick together. Wouldn't want you getting lost and spending the final minutes of the year playing an elaborate game of hide and seek after all. He was a great friend like that. Nevermind that everytime you would hold his wing a little tighter to remind yourself that he was there, he would always squeeze back. 

You needed a distraction. 

Just focus on everything that's not him.

The night was alive with the sound of music. It didn't matter if you partied with an alcoholic drink in hand, or a glass of milk, everyone in Hyrule was filled with an addictive buzz that came with an event that only happened once a year. Vendors with bright smiles called out from their stalls, the smell of freshly baked sweets or the sizzle of a barbecue beckoning you to take a closer look. To your left, a group of friends raised their hands in the air, loudly welcoming a Goron that had turned up late but regardless had finally arrived. 

The archer followed your line of sight, guessing the question bouncing in your head. "Daruk is in Eldin, probably rattling Death Mountain with that story again about the Moblin camp and the barrel of explosives."

"I love that story."

"Of course you would."

"Sorry about your feathers though."

"Whatever, they grew back."

"How about the one's on your--"

"Anyway," he interjected quickly, playfully nudging you to the side and glowering at your laughter. "We've been told to 'take a break'. The other Champions have chosen to spend this day with their families and loved ones. We are planning to regroup and continue preparations in the days following."

"How about you?"

"I already said it."

Your cheeks coloured at the implications of his words, mind replaying the previous sentence. Families and loved ones. Families and loved ones. He didn't even hesitate. You both were not related. So that left you with...

"Woah!" Digging your heels into the dirt, you abruptly paused your brisk walk and saved yourself from colliding with the archer's back. 

Stopping at one of the stalls, Revali held two fingers up. You glanced up at him questioningly but he refused to give anything away, expression relaxed. The vendor returned quickly, the Rito thanking them quietly and placing the payment on the bright yellow table cloth along with a large tip in their jar. 

He turned around, dropping a square shaped pastry into your hands. It was some kind of rice cake, with a fluffy exterior and a golden baked surface that smelled of butter and felt warm like the sun. 

Taking a bite, you smiled at the hints of coconut that were hidden in its sweet flavour. The sticky treat was familiar somehow. "Is this so luck sticks to you in the new year?"

Revali scoffed, though failed to hide his own smile behind the cake held in his wing. "You said the same thing when we first met. You need new material."

"Says the baron of bird puns."

"I am the king." He punctuated the statement by biting into his own rice cake. Offering his wing, he gently took your hand once more, turning back to step again into the busy promenade. 

Following him, you noticed that the crowds ever so slowly began to thin. A lantern lit hill was coming up. The grassy expanse was dotted with a few people, though it was blessingly not as populous as the town square. "I should be the one that's surprised. Thought you hated crowds unless their attentions were all on you."

"It's tolerable so long as I am with good company." 

The both of you walked up the hill with an unspoken agreement to make it to the top. Taking a seat on the grass, you allowed yourself to breathe, chest heaving from the small burst of exercise after days of being sedentary. 

The twinkling lights of Castle Town stretched out before you. Gazing at it, you could imagine all the untold stories hidden in the glowing little pockets of the alleys and in the hushed whispers behind closed doors. Funny how in a city so full of people, one can feel so alone. 

Revali was the first to speak, breaking you from your thoughts. "I think I can understand now. Looking at it from this distance, it really can feel like nothing much has changed."

You continued to stare at the lights, trying to focus on a certain string in an attempt to ground yourself. "Yeah. Sometimes it feels like though the world continues to spin, I'm remaining completely still. Just stagnant."

Frowning, you ran your hands through the grass, feeling the dirt shift under your fingers. You could feel your frustrations building, bubbling up to the surface with no way of dragging them back down. 

"And the challenges just get worse every year. How am I going to face those old problems and these new ones if I'm still the same lost person I was back then?"

Your voice echoed at the last sentence, making you hide your head in embarrassment. That was loud. 

Some strangers relaxing on the hill turned around to flash you an annoyed glare, before quickly returning to their picnics after spotting the Great Eagle Bow on your friend's back. 

 "I'm so sorry." You wanted more than anything then to dig a hole and hibernate preferrably for the next hundred years or so. "I'm yelling, that isn't like me. I'm so so--"

"There's nothing to be sorry about. You needed to say it." He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. There was a serious element to it that made it a little hard to breathe. "There is one part of that I don't agree with, however."

"What is it?"

"That entire section about you, how did you put it, stagnanting." He twisted a wing in the air, thinking on his words before pointing a feather directly at your face. "You're fully capable of enacting the change you want to see in yourself."

You felt a little dizzy now. But another kind of dizzy, one very different from the vertigo you felt waking up in the darkness of your room. 

"And who said you were exactly the same as you were back then? You've changed. In a good way. You're stronger and more capable of things I'm sure the person you were two years ago or even less couldn't even fathom doing." 

Turning to face you, Revali gave you his full attention, compelling you to do the same as the cadence of his speech joined the steady rhythm of your own beating heart. From the back of your mind, you could barely register the sound of people gathering together, their voices floating into the cold night air. 

'Ten!'

"It's difficult to see your own progress from a distance."

'Nine!'

"So take my advice and start looking at yourself up close for once."

'Eight!'

He had that expression on his face, one that said he was thinking too hard about something. It was like watching him try to pull the planets together with just a piece of string. His brows were furrowed so deep that your fingers wished to run over his feathers and smoothe the worried creases. 

'Seven!'

You slowly reached out to him, giving him enough time to back away. Revali stilled as your hands traced up the nape of his neck, leaning in as his pulse thrummed underneath the soft pads of your fingertips. 

'Six!'

He opened his beak the moment you reached his face. You paused, half expecting him to tell you to let go and pretend like it never happened. 

Instead, he called out your name. 

'Five!'

He said your name again, though quieter now. It was enough to tug at the invisible force drawing you two together. Enough so that the polite distance nervously enforced by the both of you gradually began to dissipate, trailing away like a ribbon of smoke as you both leaned in closer.

'Four!'

"May I--," He cleared his throat, eyes darting away for a second before they were back on you again. Bright green in the lantern light. Emeralds in the desert sand. 

'Three!'

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes."

'Two!'

"Your way or mine?" You couldn't help but joke. Revali smiled, exhaling a soft joyful laugh before pressing his forehead to yours. 

'One!'

'Happy New Year!'

An earth-shaking boom rattled your ears, but all you could think of in that moment was Revali and the feel of his feathers against your skin; the utter elation of being so close to someone you deeply cared for and that cared just as deeply for you. 

In the dazzling light you lifted your head from his, both your eyes meeting for a brief moment. Hands moving, you gently angled his face with a steady hand, feeling then the soft, butterfly light brush of his wings on your waist.

Closing your eyes again, you leaned in to press your lips against his beak, the blush on your face warmer than any fever or furnace. The Rito's soft sigh was barely audible as you trailed your kisses upwards, stopping at the red circle on his cheek. 

Revali laughed again as you turned his face to press a kiss to the identical red mark on the other side. "You're very thorough."

"You deserve it." You beamed. "And this is just the beginning, just you wait at the end of the countdown I'll--"

"Actually my dear," he grinned, pointing to the sky. 

"Huh?"

Above you were the vibrant colours of the firework display. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring, but a confirmation that you were definitely minutes in to the new year.

"Oh," you said, before shaking your head with a smile. "It's fine, we got 12 more months to prepare ourselves for the next one."

Revali nodded, pulling you closer so he could press your foreheads together again.

"Indeed," he grinned. "Now will you finish your sentence? What exactly were you going to do at the end of the countdown?"

fin. 

[miraculouswolf99]

The Language of Flowers

I love Chloe Salt and while this is not the most action-packed of one-shots, I hope you all appreciate the effort that I did to research each and every meaning of the flowers.

*****

Lyon and Vallia Garden.

The first, a teen that would be described as having a heart of ice and a gaze that could freeze you solid. His twin sister, on the other hand, was pretty much said to be a flower garden made human with tree sap instead of blood.

Yet the two stuck to each other as if they were one of those pairs of conjoined twins. The two were opposites in personality, style, and even how they talk. But even then, they were as close as a brother and sister could be.

Nobody in Ms.Bustier's really had any idea about the two foreign students in their class. Of course, they knew that it was part of a program for students of different countries to experience other cultures. But it was almost like having two ghosts in class. They would come and go each day, silent as ever, and it was like they were never there at all.

There wasn't really much of a problem with them, especially since the first day they were there was pretty much the only time they had ever spoken. But they spoke only to give the class brat, Chloe, a good tongue lashing that they all thought she deserved when she tried to make the two as submissive to her as Sabrina. But since then, the two were so silent that most people that were not in the classroom thought that they were mute.

"They two of them are such a mystery," Nino says, a lot of the class hanging out in the classroom during a break since an akuma attack was recently stopped.

The twins were not in the room for reasons no one else knew.

"A mystery wrapped in an enigma and stuffed into a riddle," Alya added, the reporter in her really frustrated.

"They are not as bad as you guys think," Adrien tells them, a bit tired after his fight as Cat Noir.

"How can you be so sure," Alix crosses her arms. "They don't talk to anyone but each other and never in a language we understand."

"I've seen Lyon at his archery practice sometimes when Kagami and I are at fencing," Adrien says. "He probably just has high expectations expected of him like Kagami and me."

"It is probably the same for Vallia, as well, then," Marinette agreed.

"They could, at least, make an effort with us," Kim said.

"My calculations say that there is a less than five percent chance that the two will speak with any of us," Max says.

"They need to learn their places," Chloe sneered. "Bowing at my feet."

"Why are you even here, Chloe," Alya put her hands on her hips. "Everything that ever comes out of your mouth is about as trashy as that dumpster akuma last week."

It had been a garbage man that was having a bad day. Apparently, his daughter was sick, his partner in the truck would not stop singing opera, and then one grosser bags he was trying to put in the truck ripped open. All that combined made him a prime target for Hawkmoth. Luckily, Ladybug, Cat Noir, White Wolf, and Beautifly managed to stop him from turning Paris into one giant landfill. Which, ironically, was his villain name. Landfill.

"My father will hear about..." Chloe tried.

"Shut up, Chloe," Marinette yelled. "Maybe the reason they don't talk to us is that they think we are all just as under your pathetic thumb as Sabrina."

"I'd rather be turned back into Timebreaker than be her minion," Alix stated.

"Adrikins, you going to let them talk to me like that," Chloe tried to whine.

For once, Adrien didn't even try to defend her. He turned away from her, shaking his head. To say that the young model was sick of her never-changing attitude would be the understatement of the century. He did a lot of thinking after the Despair Bear incident. Chloe would never change how she was. She has gotten away with it for too long to ever even want to change. She especially didn't change after being turned into Queen Wasp not too long ago.

"They've only been here for a little over two weeks," Marinette reminded them. "Maybe they just need more time to adjust."

"Having friends would help them adjust, girl," Alya put her hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"There is an 86.5 percent chance of them adjusting better with friends by their side," Max said, Markov floating by his head.

The class would have talked more, but they heard the sounds of two people chattering away in a foreign language coming toward the classroom. And since Lila was still MIA since her first day in class, that meant that it had to be the twins. Everyone quickly scrambled to get into their seats and not look like they had a class meeting without the entire class.

When Lyon and Vallia walked in, the silence that had fallen over the classroom seemed to be a lot worse than being caught in a class meeting. But the Greek twins simply walked to their seats in the back and sat down for class to start up again.

"Vríkate ta sostá louloúdia," Lyon whispered to his sister. Translated: Did you find the right flowers.

"Me píre lígo, allá to ékana," Vallia whispered back. Translated: Took me a while, but I did.

The two silently had smirks on their faces.

*****

The next day, the class was unbelievably shocked by what they saw when they walked into the classroom. There were bunches of flowers on all of their desks. A different flower was on each of them. No two desks had the same flower. Except that Ms.Bustier's desk seemed to have a flower bunch with one of each blossom in it.

"Geia," the Greek twins greeted them, standing at the front of the classroom.

Most of the class was too shocked by the flowers to notice that the two of them had actually talked to them.

"Was there some type of flower akuma and we didn't know about it," Alya looked disappointed that she might have missed an akuma attack for her blog.

"Pardon," Lyon crossed his arms.

The class suddenly realized that the twins were talking to them. The two of them were also each holding a few roses in their hands.

"Are you two actually talking to us," Alix asked.

"Eínai tóso dýskolo na eísai oraía," Lyon says to his sister. Translation: They make it so hard to be nice.

"Páre, aderfí," Vallia responded. Translation: Behave, brother.

"Class, sit down," Ms.Bustier instructed. "Lyon and Vallia have some things that they have collecting in order to share with us."

"Flowers," Max asked, confused.

"We basically grew up surrounded by nature," Vallia says. "Plants can be a language all on their own. You just have to know how to use them."

Lyon took a small sniff of the roses he was holding.

"Take roses, for example," he said. "They perfectly describe us. Roses are said to represent people that are quiet and traditional. Quite fitting for the two of us, isn't it."

The class all sat down in their respected seats. Adrien and Marinette were probably the most interested ones of the class, even if they were all curious. Except for Chloe, of course.

"We spent these last couple of weeks getting to know you guys from a distance," Vallia explained. "It is one of our family traditions to give flowers to someone when they enter the family. By marriage or birth."

"We decided to take that tradition and make a classroom version of it," Lyon says. "Each of you has been given flowers that match your personalities. It took us a while to find the right ones and get them here. Luckily, we have a very wide range of flora at our family sanctuary."

"You spent over two weeks getting us flowers," Alix raised her eyebrow.

"Can there really be a flower for each of us," Mylene wondered out loud.

"You have them all in front of you," Lyon looked a little annoyed.

Vallia did have to admit that she was a tab annoyed as well. While they did not know just how much nature meant to them as a part of their lives, the doubt was still annoying.

"We figured this would show that we are more than two foreigners that like to keep to themselves," Vallia says.

"Keep in mind that I still like to keep to myself most of the time," Lyon said, Vallia knowing how much her brother likes the quiet.

"So, what do these flowers mean," Adrien asks.

To his surprise, neither of the twins pulled out a list or anything that could help them remember all the information. They must really know their stuff.

"We can start with Mylene," Vallia says, the small girl blushing. "We gave her peony flowers. They represent those that are kind and also like small gestures."

Ivan was particularly shocked by that. He had only gotten together with Mylene because she read his song as a poem after his second time being akumatized as Stone Heart. She was not up for the big-time rock and roll version he wrote it as, and just liked it as a simple poem or soft song.

"Ivan's was simpler to find," Lyon said. "The carnation flower has always been used to describe down-to-earth people. Ones that are very grounded."

The other members of Kitty Section looked at Ivan, knowing how that was very true. Ivan had always been the first to calm down any fame that might go to their heads after the Captain Hardrock incident and their performance. Well, after Luka that is. Juleka's brother was basically a saint when it came to being cool, calm, and collected.

"We chose poppies for Alix," Vallia explained the red flowers in front of the skater. "The traits that they represent are those that are creative and bold."

That was definitely Alix to a "T." Her art was a mix of both since she did spraypaint street art. And her natural athletic abilities did make her do some pretty bold things.

"Max and Kim, I thought, were the easiest to match," Lyon said. "Max has the aster flower, which represents those that are smart and devoted. Kim has hydrangeas, for those that are athletic and team players."

The class was starting to see just how much the two had worked on their "project."

"I, personally, liked to say that I enjoyed finding flowers for Rose and Juleka," Vallia smiled. "Mostly because I am holding one of their names."

That got a giggle out of the pink-dressed blond and an eye roll from Lyon.

"Get on with it, Vallia," Lyon says. "We still have actual classes to attend, sister."

The class had to hide groans, especially since Bustier was in the room and they did not want to insult her by accident.

"Fine," Vallia sighed. "I thought that tulips matched Rose because they are for the bright and cheerful. Juleka's are also my personal favorite flower, the lily. They are for ones that are quiet but also inspirational to others."

Juleka tried to hide her face in her hands, knowing that she was blushing. Rose was over the moon, for herself and her best friend. If there was any flower that was spot on for anyone in the class, it would be the one that Rose got.

"Nathaniel and Adrien ended up having the flowers that tie as my favorite," Lyon admitted. "I chose the iris for Nathaniel because it is a flower for daydreamers and the imaginative. Orchids are Adrien's because they represent those that are sophisticated, refined, but have good hearts."

Both mentioned boys blushed. While Adrien did have more friends than Nath, both of them were naturally quiet and not used to such praise. Yes, Adrien is a model, but it be a miracle to hear any sort of praise from his father. And Nath was only just starting to come out of his shell thanks to Marinette.

"Sabrina was a tad bit more difficult to match," Vallia almost did not want to admit. "But when you learn about who she is, she is optimistic and also tends to be a morning person. Those are the traits of the daisy."

Sabrina was shocked, as were most of the class. As usual, Chloe didn't care. She had been sneering at the flowers in front of her since she had sat down. Sabrina was internally jumping up and down in excitement. No one had ever tried to get to know her, especially after she became friends with Chloe.

"Alya is a very modern person while Nino also very much in the tech universe, so they were also a little difficult to translate to our olden tradition," Lyon says. "But we did think that Alya best matched with the daffodil. It represents those that are very social and also love friends and family. Nino's flower is the sunflower, a blossom for the warm and those that tend to be very happy-go-lucky."

Both of those descriptions perfectly matched the two. Alya was probably the most social person in the entire school. She had to be to run Paris's most popular blog.

"I thought that Marinette's was very much telling about who she is," Vallia says, Marinette a little embarrassed. "The calla lily is for hardworking people, but also represents people that can be said to be quite rare as well."

Marinette was now bright red as she hid her face in her arms, Alya patting her back. But you could see the look on the blogger's face that she was enjoying someone telling Marinette how special she was. The girl was too humble for her own good.

"And last, Chloe," Lyon did not look happy about it being his turn to talk when it came time to tell the brat about her flower.

"Saving the best for last," the blond ruined the nice moment the twins had created. "About time you two start giving me the respect I deserve."

That was when Lyon got the most ice-cold look on his face that the class had ever seen. Rose even shivered a little bit, as if she was actually cold from the look he gave the brat.

Adrien remembered seeing him give that look only once more. It was last week when he was at a photoshoot after school. Lyon and Vallia had been in the same park as the shoot and had heard the photographer becoming rather aggressive with him. After a few words about acting like a model should and not a teenage boy, Lyon got in the photographer's face and gave him that very look. He had not said one word, but that look was enough to make the man weak in the knees. He had not spoken to Adrien again the entire shoot and a different photographer was assigned to him soon after that day.

"Alright, here is what your flower says about you," Lyon's voice could freeze the Atlantic. "The gardenia flower represents those that like living in a life of luxury. Those that like the lifestyle of the one percent..."

Chloe seemed to be happy with that, but Lyon almost smugly popped her bubble.

"Basically, it's the flower for spoiled brats that need to get taught the meaning of the word 'no," he finished.