#I both want to do more and want less commitments in my life rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andiwriteordie · 10 months

Note

HIIII i have a prompt for u,

have mike get a vecna vision where will dies in his arms. 🤭🤭🤭

this is not a want its a NEED.

im in the mood for angst rn and i love ur art style so...... 😊😊

oh this was a cruel cruel prompt 😈

here's a ficlet that turned into a fic because i combined it with another prompt lol 🫡

—

holding hands, while the walls come tumbling down

It starts like this.

The steady yet nervous thump, thump, thump of a heartbeat that Mike can hear as loud as his own. A body nestled right beside him; an artist’s hands, smooth and soft and ever gentle, intertwined with Mike’s; a boy he has known for nearly his entire life and loved in some way for just as long who is here, here, here lying next to him—all Mike’s for the taking, just like Mike is all his.

It’s quiet in the room, save for the soft sound of their breathing. That, too, moves in time with each other—the gentle rise and fall of their chests as they breathe in and out, in and out, in and out.

Mike would stay here forever if he could. And he thinks—no, no, no; he knows, without a shadow of a doubt in his mind and in his heart—that Will feels the same.

Mike has always prided himself on being the type of person to give everything to what he does. Sometimes (oftentimes), everything isn’t enough, but that doesn’t stop him from giving it his all anyways. He’s never been the type of person to do something halfway; no, for Mike, it’s always been a deep dive into whatever it is he’s set his mind out to. An all or nothing kind of deal.

Will’s different from him. That’s something Mike’s known since their very first conversation, when his excitable, overeager “Hi! Do you want to be my friend?” was met with a quieter, shyer, but no less enthusiastic, “Yes; I – I do!” from Will. He’s not the type of first to run headfirst into something, which is probably good for Mike. It probably keeps them both out of trouble. But when Will does commit to something, when he chooses what he wants, when he decides that Yes, yes, yes, this is something I’m willing to fight for, then he’s every bit as passionate as Mike is.

All or nothing.

There’s no turning back for the two of them, and Mike couldn’t care less. This path they’ve stumbled down on is one they’ve been walking down for quite some time now—together, even though they were both a little too blind and far too stubborn to see it. Now that they can finally see each other, now that everything is out in the light, now that Will knows Mike loves him and Mike knows that Will loves him too, there’s no going back from here. They’ve passed the point of no return, and Mike will be damned if they ever go back to what they used to be.

It’s been a longtime coming for the two of them, and as Will nestles closer to Mike’s side, resting his head on Mike’s chest and letting out another soft, content sigh, Mike can’t help but smile.

The world around them might literally be on the brink of ending—constantly shrouded in darkness, plagued by monsters from the Upside Down, cold and always on the brink of another terrifying, disastrous storm that will threaten to rip Hawkins apart—but Mike has never been happier than he is in this moment, here with Will.

“What’re you thinking about?” comes Will’s quiet, sleepy voice, and Mike glances down at his boyfriend (Boyfriend? Right? Is that what we are now?) and meets Will’s gaze. There’s a softness in his eyes, mixed in with the sleepiness that’s not surprising for how late it must be now, as well as a familiar curiosity.

What’s wrong? Will’s expression also seems to say. Are you okay? Was… was this okay?

Mike just smiles, leaning forward and kissing Will, soft and slow. Immediately, the butterflies in his stomach come back to life, more excited and awake than they’ve ever been before today. “Just about how happy I am,” Mike admits, once he’s pulled away. “I… I never really thought this would happen to me… To us.”

The curiosity melts away from Will’s face, morphing into something softer and something a bit hesitant and shy. He pulls away, ever so slightly, and lies on his side, and Mike does the same, so the two of them are looking directly at one another now. The dim glow of the old lamp that’d made it with Mike all these years—somehow surviving the move from his childhood home to Hawkins Lab and making it through the literal apocalypse—shines down on them, illuminating Will’s face just enough for Mike to see him clearly.

Beautiful is the only word that comes to Mike’s mind.

“I never thought this would happen either,” Will whispers back. There’s a smile tugging at his lips, small and a bit shy, and he reaches forward, tucking some of Mike’s hair back behind his ears. “Part of me thinks I’m just… gonna wake up, and this is all going to have been a dream. Or worse. A trance.”

“Pretty sure it’s not a dream,” Mike says with a laugh, and just for good measure, he kisses Will again, relishing in the way Will’s face immediately brightens. “Or a trance. Unless we’re… both dreaming. Or stuck in a trance.”

“Stranger things have happened to us,” Will points out, just to be difficult.

Mike rolls his eyes, before pulling Will close to him and kissing him again, slower this time and with more intention. Will moves easily in his embrace, following where Mike leads the two of them until their bodies are flush against each other again, filling Mike with that familiar sense of warmth and giddiness. And because it’s Will and because he wants this as much as Mike does, and because they’re both the type of people to go all in—all or nothing—Will kisses him back without any hesitation, his tongue exploring Mike’s mouth like this is the first and last time they’ll ever get to do this and his hands carding through Mike’s hair to pull him close, close, close but not close enough.

“I love you,” Mike breathes. The words come naturally, and though they’ve gone unspoken all night, Mike knows they haven’t gone unsaid. Every single kiss and every single glance and every single touch shared between the two of them has been a whisper of those three words over and over and over again: I love you, I love you, I love you.

And there’s not a single doubt in Mike’s mind that he means it.

A smile forms on Will’s face as he leans away, resting his forehead against Mike’s own. He looks absolutely radiant like this, face illuminated by the soft glow of that old lamp, smile stretching from ear to ear, eyes sparkling with a warmth that screams back to Mike, I love you, I love you, I love you, with just as much enthusiasm and excitement that Mike feels in his own heart.

“I love you too,” Will whispers back, and he reaches forward, cupping Mike’s face gently. “I love you so much.”

Then, without another word, Will closes the space between the two of them once more.

Mike wakes the next morning to the sound of screaming.

The sound startles him right out of whatever dream he’d been having, and Mike flinches sharply, sitting up and looking around the room. His heart pounds inside his chest, and an unsettled, terrified feeling grows inside his stomach as everything inside him switches from a sleepy, even idyllic state to DANGER, DANGER, DANGER mode in a matter of seconds.

Save for the dim light of his desk lamp, the room is relatively dark, and there’s no one else in the room except for Mike and—

And Will.

There’s a terrified look on Will’s face, and much like Mike, he’s looking around the room, eyes darting back and forth nervously like he has no idea where he is or what’s real or whether or not they’re safe. He’s trembling too, hands clenched tightly around Mike’s old blanket, and he seems like he’s just another few moments away from a complete breakdown.

And instantly, Mike’s mind switches from the DANGER, DANGER, DANGER mode to his Will needs me mode.

“Hey,” Mike whispers, scooting close to Will and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Will immediately flinches, startled by the touch, and Mike winces, running his hand up and down Will’s army gently. “Hey, it’s just me, Will. You’re okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream. Whatever you saw… it’s not real.”

That promise – it’s not a new one. After all, the last two-and-a-half years have been full of sleepless nights brought on by otherworldly nightmares. Nobody has been spared from them, but of everyone in the Party, Will has probably suffered the most, thanks to his deeper connection to One. These nightmares are nothing new, and yet, every single time Will suffers from one of them, it feels like a knife in Mike’s heart.

He can’t make the nightmares go away, but he can be there for Will. He can sit with Will until the darkness fades away, back into a vague memory, and he can hold Will and make promises that It’ll be okay; you’ll be okay; I’m not going anywhere; we’ll get through this. That’s really all Mike can do, and so God damn it, that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Usually, it helps. It takes time, but usually, Will is receptive to the comfort, always leaning in close and allowing Mike to hold him until the terror subsides.

But for some reason, this time, Will isn’t so receptive.

It takes a moment, but out of nowhere, Will pushes Mike away, that terrified look still remaining on his face. He’s even paler than he was just a second ago, causing confusion to grow in Mike’s heart and mind. Before Mike can say anything though, Will whispers, “Mike… we have to go. Now.”

There’s an urgency in his voice unlike anything Mike has ever heard before, and that, coupled with the look of pure fear in Will’s eyes, is enough for Mike to understand exactly what’s going on, even before Will says anything about it. After all, there’s only one thing that would scare Will this much, and really, it’s just their shared, awful luck that this would happen today of all days.

They just got together—finally, after years and years of dancing around each other and hiding from themselves and one another and never fully knowing if their feelings would be reciprocated. They just crossed that line from just friends into something more, and now…

Now, the world is actually, quite literally about to end. Now, the two of them stand on the precipice of something that could change everything and could ultimately decide the fate of the rest of the world. Now, the past five years of having their lives uprooted by the Upside Down will come to an end, one way or another.

Mike swallows the lump in the back of his throat, and he turns, meeting Will’s eyes. “It’s him, isn’t it?” he asks quietly, though he already knows the answer.

A grim expression forms on Will’s face, and he takes another slow, shuddered breath, before nodding. “Yeah,” Will whispers back. “It’s him. One’s back, and we… we have to go. Now.”

The words before it’s too late hang on the end of Will’s sentence—unspoken, but not unsaid. He doesn’t have to say anything else or give any other details. Not yet at least. Those will come in time, as soon as they wake up the others and fill them in on what’s happening. But for right now, just between the two of them, all that Will has said is enough.

And Mike gets the awful feeling that… that one way or another, today is going to be the end.

“Okay,” Mike whispers. He takes a deep breath. In and out. In and out. In and out. Then, a bit more confident, “We’ll go wake the others up, and we’ll put an end to this. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Those words aren’t ones that he has any business promising, and both of them know it. Still, Will’s shoulders do relax just a little bit, and he scoots close to Mike once more, taking Mike’s hand in his own. “It’s going to be okay,” Will echoes faintly. “We’ll make it through this.”

There’s a slight tremble in his voice, like he doesn’t know if he believes those words, and truthfully, Mike doesn’t know if he does either. But he forces himself to smile anyways and leans forward, kissing Will’s forehead. “Whatever happens today,” Mike says, his voice quiet, “I want you to know I love you.”

For a moment, it’s quiet in the room—the only sound the faint inhale and exhale from Will and from Mike himself. Then, in a voice that’s impossibly soft but still full of so much certainty, Will replies, “I know… and I love you too. Always.”

He glances back up at Mike with a bittersweet look in his eyes. The words are true, and Mike has no doubt about that in his mind… But both of them know that the words are a bit of a goodbye too—the last chance they might get to say things like this to one another, in case today doesn’t go the way any of them plan for it to.

Best case scenario?

El manages to defeat One. None of their friends or family die. Hawkins and the rest of the world are saved. Somehow, some way, they figure out how to go back to being normal, stupid teenagers, and they put all of this behind them.

Worst case scenario?

Well… Mike doesn’t really want to think about that. Best not to deal in what ifs and best not to let himself become too terrified of the outcome. What matters most is right now and finding the others, so they can actually stand a fighting chance.

What comes later will come later.

“Always,” Mike echoes, just as soft as Will, and because he can—he can now—he leans forward and steals a quick kiss. “Come on. We should go wake the others.”

Downtown Hawkins is a complete wreck.

There’s no other way to describe it. This place has been a ghost town for over two years now, run down and battered and destroyed by the monsters that come up out of the rifts from the Upside Down. That’s no surprise at all, but what is a surprise is just how quickly a ghost town can become a battlefield.

There are monsters everywhere, and large, black vines sprout up from the middle of the town—what used to be the library but has been a massive gate leading to the Upside Down since March 1986. The monsters just keep on coming, hundreds of them crawling, flying, stumbling out of the gate with roars and snarls so loud it’s a miracle Mike’s eardrums don’t burst.

The Party—which now unfortunately includes more than just the close friends Mike’s known since his childhood—has been training for this the entire time. Over three years of preparation have led them to this moment, but even all that time spent training and learning how to fight and how not to immediately die in battle can only get them so far. There’s only a small handful of them, and there are hundreds of monsters.

If El can’t beat One, then there’s no way this doesn’t end with every single last one of them dead at the hands of some twisted, demo-creature.

Still, Mike keeps fighting, operating on nothing but pure adrenaline now. There’s definitely a nasty cut and a bump on his head from a tussle with some mutated demodog of sorts, but Mike barely pays any attention to that. All he can do is keep fighting, shooting down demo-creature after creature and praying to whatever fucking deity may or may not be listening that he doesn’t run out of bullets before this is all said and done.

He’s long since lost track of nearly all the other Party members. El’s off somewhere fighting One. Lucas and Dustin are nowhere to be found but hopefully still alive and hopefully with someone else in their little group. The only person Mike’s managed to keep an eye on this whole time has been Will—and only because he and Will refuse to leave one another’s side. They’ve spent the better part of this battle fighting back-to-back with one another, barrages of well-aimed bullets flying out from their rifles and into the bodies of the monsters threatening to rip them into shreds.

If this is how it ends, then all Mike knows is that he wants to be close to Will.

The battle feels like it goes on forever—or at least long enough that the adrenaline begins to wear off, and the rifle in Mike’s hands begins to feel too heavy, and his limbs start to feel like they’re made out of jello. The exhaustion settles in, but there’s no time for that. Not when monster after monster keeps coming through the massive gate by the old library. So, despite the fact that everything begins to become a blur around him and it feels a bit like Mike is swimming underwater, trying his damnedest just to stay afloat, Mike keeps going and going and going in this hazy state until—

Until a scream pulls him right out of the haze.

That scream is the gravity that takes Mike’s hand and pulls, pulls, pulls until Mike is crashing back down to earth in a crumpled heap. Suddenly, Mike feels more awake and more attuned to his surroundings and filled with a newfound strength that wasn’t there before.

It comes too little, too late though.

Because as Mike turns around, looking in the direction that the scream had just come from, he feels his heart drop all the way to the bottom of his stomach. Pure panic and terror settle into his heart and mind, replacing the exhaustion from before, and in an instant, it’s like everything within Mike has been reoriented, only able to focus on one thing.

On one person.

“Will!”

The scream tears itself from Mike’s throat, and before he can even process it, Mike is sprinting to where his boyfriend now lies on the ground, bright red blood pooling around him. The two of them must’ve gotten separated only moments ago, because Will’s a few feet away from him, and there’s a whimpering, half-dead demo-creature lying halfway between the two of them. The blood from the creature flows down the street, joining the pool of Will’s blood, and Mike fights the urge to gag as he throws himself down onto the pavement beside him.

The battle rages on all around the two of them, monstrous roars still echoing in the streets of their hometown—the horrific soundtrack to what is easily the worst moment of Mike’s life.

Because up close, it becomes even more clear just how bad Will’s injuries are. What’s left of his shirt is soaked in blood, and the tattered remains of the shirt barely cover the open wounds in Will’s chest and stomach. Every single breath he takes is labored and trembling, and already, his eyes have become glassy and distant.

He’s dying.

Will is dying, and if Mike doesn’t do anything about it, he’s going to lose him, he’s going to lose Will, oh God, he’s going to lose Will, oh God, oh God, oh God—

“M-Mike?”

It’s Will’s wheezy, strained voice that snaps Mike out of the panic, and Mike flinches sharply, looking down at his boyfriend. Will’s eyes flutter open and closed, open and closed, and he struggles to keep them open as he looks up at Mike. He’s even paler than he was just mere moments again.

He’s fading. Quickly. Faster than Mike can even keep up with, let alone do something about.

Will is dying.

And Mike is going to lose him.

“J-just hold on, Will,” Mike manages to say, except that it comes out as more of a hoarse croak. His own chest feels tight, like someone is squeezing all the air right out from his lungs, and Mike chokes back a sob, weakly reaching for Will and pulling him into his arms. “Just hold on, okay? Okay, just hold on; you’re going to be okay; just hold on—HELP! Someone please! HELP! HELP US!”

Somehow, there’s no one around. Nobody can hear the strangled, desperate screams that are coming out of Mike’s mouth; nobody is around to see him sobbing and hugging Will tighter, as if somehow holding on to him will keep him here and keep him alive. Not even the demo-creatures, who were just surrounding them and threatening their lives, are around.

It’s just Mike and Will here.

Nobody is coming to help them.

Will is dying.

And Mike is going to lose him.

“I’m sorry,” Mike gasps, looking back down at Will through the blurry tears in his eyes. “Will, I… I don’t think… I don’t know if—”

“Shh,” Will whispers, and he reaches up weakly, placing a trembling hand on Mike’s cheek. Somehow, he manages a smile, though his lips and teeth are stained red with blood. “Shh… Mike… ‘s okay… ‘s okay.”

Every single word out of his mouth sounds strained, as if it hurts to say anything, and Mike bites back a sob, holding Will closer. “It’s not okay,” he whispers back, shaking his head. “I – I don’t… I don’t want to lose you, Will. You can’t go; please, you can’t—”

Again, Will offers him a smile, and he runs his thumb carefully, gently across Mike’s cheek. “You… you’ll be okay,” he murmurs and takes another quiet, labored breath. Then: “I… I’m glad you’re… here with me.”

The words feel like a knife in Mike’s already wounded heart, twisting deeper and deeper and delivering the final blow. That familiar feeling of desperation crawls back up to the surface as Mike tries to think of something—anything—he can do to save Will. There has to be something that can be done, some way to save Will, some solution that will keep them from the ending they’re quickly approaching.

But without anyone nearby, there’s nothing that can be done. There’s no solution, no way to save Will at this point, nothing that Mike can do.

Nothing except for sit here and stay with Will until the very end.

So, that’s exactly what Mike does.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mike promises softly, and he tilts his head, pressing a kiss against Will’s palm. The tears won’t stop now; they just keep coming and coming, dripping down Mike’s cheeks and onto the bloody ground. “I’ll stay here with you, Will… until… until…”

His voice trails off, dissolving into another sob, but Will gets exactly what Mike is trying to say. He always does, and though he looks exhausted and barely able to hold on any longer, Will smiles up at Mike and takes his other hand, interlacing their fingers.

Time, the strange thing that it is, seems to slow down around them. It’s as if Mike is having an out-of-body experience, watching all this happen in slow motion around them—a mere observer to the worst moment of his life and the end of Will’s.

“I love you,” Will murmurs, breathless and barely audible now.

“I love you too,” Mike whispers back, and he squeezes Will’s hand tightly, afraid to let go. The world shrinks and shrinks and shrinks until it’s just the two of them, frozen in this slow motion reality, and he watches as Will’s eyes flutter open and closed, open and closed, open… and closed.

He doesn’t open his eyes again.

And Mike’s world comes crashing down.

All at once, it’s as if the dam has burst, and another desperate, broken sob rips itself from Mike’s throat: “Will!”

Whatever sense of peace or at least acceptance that he might have found lulled into during Will’s last moments has all but disappeared now—replaced by a gut-wrenching, all-consuming, grief that washes over him like a flood. The rest of the world still feels far away, as if nothing else in the world matters but Will, Will, Will.

Will is gone.

He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s lying here and is dead in Mike’s arms, he isn’t breathing anymore, and his blood is all over the ground and all over Mike, and he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone—

“I’m sorry,” Mike whispers brokenly, and he holds onto Will’s lifeless body, rocking back and forth in some desperate attempt to wake him up or to do something, anything, to fix this. “P-please come back, Will; please, please, please don’t go, please come back, don’t leave me, please don’t go, please, Will, please come back, please, Will—”

Time passes in its ever strange, inconsistent movement. It’s hard something that Mike can’t keep track of—not when his focus is solely on Will.

But then, out of nowhere, something pulls Mike’s focus away from Will.

The air grows colder around the two of them; a pervasive, terrifying feeling of evil and darkness settles over downtown Hawkins. It’s familiar but jarring all at once, and Mike can’t help but shudder, holding Will’s body closer to his own. Slowly but surely, reality begins to settle back in, trickling in little by little through the cracks of Mike’s broken heart and mind.

The world around him is eerily quiet and terrifyingly still. Unlike the battlefield from before, downtown Hawkins has once again been reduced to nothing but a near silent ghost town. Gone are the vicious snarls and growls of monsters. Gone is the sound of bullets ricocheting through the air. Gone are the screams and furious cries of his friends and family.

In place of all of that is the simple sound of footsteps approaching him.

The footsteps are quickly approaching. Each step taken is one made with intention, and the movement brings that pervasive feeling of darkness closer and closer to Mike until the air around him feels near suffocating. All the while, Mike’s heart pounds in a nervous thumpthumpthump as the realization settles back in.

The battle is over.

There is no one left—no one but Mike.

All of his family, his friends, Will… they’re all gone.

And One has done it. He’s finally succeeded.

This is it.

This is the end.

As the footsteps approach, Mike takes a deep breath, and he leans down, pressing one last kiss to Will’s forehead. If this is it, if this is the end, if somehow Mike is the last person left of the Party, then he won’t go down without a fight. It doesn’t matter how futile it is. Mike has to at least try.

So, he gathers up all the courage left inside of him, and Mike lifts his head, daring to look One in the eye.

Icy blue eyes meet Mike’s own for the first time as something akin to a smile forms on One’s face. He looks pleased—amused even—and stops, just a few feet away from Mike and Will. “Michael Wheeler,” One says, voice low and gravelly, “we meet at last.”

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, doing the best to ignore the way his stomach is twisted into knots. It feels impossible—that he would be the last person standing here after all this fighting and bloodshed. Mike’s never been much of a hero, and God knows that he barely stands a fighting chance against One.

Still, his friends died trying to fight One and the monsters of the Upside Down. Will died trying to fight One and the monsters of the Upside Down. And if Mike is going to die too, then… so be it.

“Rot in hell,” Mike spits, his own voice full of venom. His rifle’s long since gone, tossed aside somewhere in the desperation to save Will, so all he’s got left to fight with now are his words. Those will just have to do.

One just chuckles and takes another step towards Mike, gesturing to the ruins of downtown Hawkins. “Look around you, Michael,” he says coldly, and against his own better judgment, Mike does so, his breath hitching as he takes in the carnage from the battle. “Do you see what I have done? Do you see what I am capable of? Do you see how futile fighting back is?”

Suddenly, it feels as though some invisible force is wrapped around Mike, and it pulls him all the way to his feet with a terrified yelp. The force squeezes him so tightly Mike feels like he can barely breathe, and it brings him forward until Mike finds himself barely inches away from One.

Another twisted smile forms on One’s face. He reaches forward, running his large, clawed hand down Mike’s cheek, and whispers, “You’re going to send a message for me, Michael Wheeler.”

Barely a moment after the words have left his mouth, the visions begin.

The visions are familiar—some moments that Mike has lived through and seen with his own two eyes and others that he’s only heard about from his friends and family. They flash across his eyes at dizzying, overwhelming speeds, one right after another after another.

At first, the visions are moments from today. Glimpses of the battle they all have just fought and lost, the screams of his friends and family, the snarls and growls of hundreds of demo-creatures coming out from the gates. But then, the visions work their way backwards, moving through moments in time from patrols over these past two years, Upside Down storms that began to cover Hawkins, and sporadic monster attacks that they almost didn’t survive.

The day at the meadow flashes through Mike’s line of sight too, before it quickly melts away into memories not belonging to himself. A jarring CRACK resonates through his mind as he watches Max’s bones snap and sees the gates ripping across all of Hawkins during that spring. Then, even before that, he sees Eddie’s death, sees his friends fighting for their lives against demobats and against vines, sees El and Max struggling against One’s power over them.

Suddenly, it’s the summer before, with the Mind Flayer and the Flayed and Billy. Starcourt Mall, going up in flames as the Mind Flayer’s fleshy form towered over and chased all of them. Black tendrils tracing up and down Billy’s face as an otherworldly horror controlled his actions. Will’s haunted whisper that the Mind Flayer was back, that this wasn’t over, that they still hadn’t escaped this.

Then, it’s the fall before that. The tunnels and the massive gate to the Upside Down. The night at the lab, with demodogs tearing through flesh and bone and with people screaming and crying for help. The Mind Flayer’s shadowy form, descending on Will, choking him, filling him up, and taking over his mind and body.

Finally, the visions end with that very first fall. The demogorgon, feasting on Brenner’s men at Hawkins Middle School. Hopper and Joyce finding Will in Upside Down. Will hiding and running for his life in the Upside Down, all alone with no one to help him. Barb screaming for help as the demogorgon rips her to shreds, and then—

Will.

Riding his bike through Hawkins, that very first night when this all began.

“Tell Will,” One’s voice whispers into the silence of Will’s bike ride through Hawkins, “that I am coming. The end is near, Michael. And there is nothing any of you can do to stop what I have been planning all along.”

One last vision flickers across Mike’s line of sight.

A memory that he still remembers, clear as day.

“It was a seven,” Will’s twelve year-old self says to Mike’s own younger self.

“Huh?”

“The roll,” Will explains. “It was a seven. The demogorgon – it got me. Well, see you tomorrow!”

And just like that, Will’s younger self rides away, leaving Mike’s younger self standing just outside his garage.

Mike watches as the garage light flickers above his younger self.

Then, in the next instant, he finds himself falling into the darkness.

The darkness seems to last for an eternity.

There’s an inky black void surrounding him as Mike falls, and he can’t help but scream, reaching out for something, anything to pull himself back up. But there’s absolutely nothing there to hold onto, so Mike just continues to fall and fall and fall, further and further into the darkness.

Then, suddenly, the darkness dissipates. The fog clears just a little bit, enough for Mike to hear someone call out his name: “MIKE!”

Will?

“MIKE!” the person—that’s Will, it has to be Will—calls again, more desperate this time, and Mike reaches back up, trying to grasp onto anything that will pull him out of the darkness. The way out seems just a little bit closer now, getting easier to reach out to as Will calls his name again, “MIKE! MIKE! MI—”

And with a gasp, Mike opens his eyes.

Light floods his line of sight, replacing the never-ending darkness at an overwhelmingly fast pace. Mike’s mind feels like it’s racing at a million miles an hour, and his heart is pounding inside his chest, so hard that it almost hurts to breathe. All the while, the room spins around and around and around and around and—

Suddenly, Mike’s knees buckle, nearly sending him crashing to the ground. Fortunately, someone—Will—is there to catch him, and though the two of them both stumble, Will manages to break his fall. “Mike?” he asks, voice full of concern. “Mike, hey, are you okay?”

There are tears in Will’s eyes, and his face looks blotchy, like he’s been crying. Still, even with the worry written all over his expression, there’s relief there too, and Mike takes a shuddered breath, choosing to focus on Will.

Will’s here. Will’s here, and he – he’s alive. He’s alive. Mike didn’t lose him. He’s not dead. Will isn’t dead.

Which means…

That entire battle must have been a vision from One. An opportunity for One to pass along a message that he’d been waiting to send. And… a warning for what’s still to come.

“Shit,” Mike whispers. “Shit. Will, we have to – he… One… I—”

“Hey, just take a deep breath,” Will says worriedly, and he hesitates, before reaching for Mike’s hand. “Just breathe, okay? Mike, you – you were in that trance for a while. We couldn’t snap you out of it, and I… I thought I was going to lose you.”

Will’s voice breaks on those last few words, breaking Mike’s heart with it. “I’m still here,” Mike reassures, reaching up and cupping Will’s cheek as gently as he can. “I’m still here, Will.”

A bright rosy blush spreads across Will’s face as his eyes widen and glance at Mike’s hand. “I know you are,” he replies quietly, “but I… I still could’ve lost you. I – I mean… we all could have.”

The memories of seeing Will’s mangled body on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood, come back to the forefront of Mike’s mind, and he can’t help but shudder. Without giving it another thought, he wraps his arms around Will, hugging him as tight as he possibly can.

Mike… he still has no idea how much of the past two days have actually been part of his vision from One versus how much was real. There’s no doubt in his mind that the battle itself and his encounter with One were all a result of being held in a trance, but as for… as for everything that came before that—confessing his love for Will and learning about Will’s feelings in return—Mike isn’t honestly sure.

There’s a part of him that thinks… maybe that stuff was just too good to be true. Maybe Mike did make that all up in his mind, or maybe it was just a trick from One, designed to taunt him before delivering the final blow. Maybe what happened with Will the night before that battle was nothing more than just a dream.

Mike swallows the lump in his throat, and he tries not to think about that as Will hugs him tighter and buries his head in Mike’s shoulder. “I’m still here,” Mike repeats, softer now than before. “We’re both still here… We’re not going to lose each other, Will.”

“The end is near, Michael,” One’s voice echoes through his mind—the cruel threat solidified in his mind now as a promise. This isn’t over. What Mike saw in his vision… it may very well come to pass.

And just like Will once said to him, One isn’t going to stop until he takes everything and everyone.

“And there is nothing any of you can do to stop what I have been planning all along,” One had told him, as the visions of Will leaving Mike’s house on that fateful night had played out for him like a twisted home video.

More importantly, One isn’t going to stop until takes Will.

Mike can’t let that happen. He can’t lose Will.

Will takes a shaky breath of his own, and he pulls away, just enough for the two of them to look at each other, and offers Mike a tiny smile. “We won’t,” he agrees softly. He hesitates, then carefully lifts his hand, resting it against Mike’s cheek. “Are you… are you okay?”

Will’s hand is warm against Mike’s face, and his touch feels like electricity. There’s something so genuine and so tender about the way that he’s looking at Mike and the way he gently runs his thumb across Mike’s cheek, over and over again. He’s here—warm and firm and solid, close enough that Mike is able to take his hand and hold on and never let go.

Will’s here. He’s okay. He’s safe.

And for now, that’s all that matters.

So, even in spite of One’s haunting message and the visions from their past and the warnings of the future, Mike finds the ability to smile. He reaches up, putting his hand over Will’s, and he nods. “I’m okay. You’re here, so… I’m okay.”

Those words cause Will’s face to turn an even brighter shade of red, but he smiles regardless, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Mike’s own. He takes Mike’s other free hand in his own and doesn’t say anything else—not that Mike needs him to. They’ve always been able to communicate without words, and this time is no different.

Sure, the future might be bleak, and there’s no telling whether One’s visions will come to pass, even in spite of their best efforts to fight back. But right here, right now, he and Will are together. They’re both safe, and they’re both here.

All they can do is take this moment for what it's worth and hold onto each other while they still can.

And for now, it ends in very much the same way that Mike thinks it began.

The steady yet nervous thump, thump, thump of a heartbeat that Mike can hear as loud as his own. A body nestled close beside him; an artist’s hands, smooth and soft and ever gentle, intertwined with Mike’s; a boy he has known for nearly his entire life and loved in some way for just as long who is here, here, here right in front—all Mike’s for the taking, just like Mike is all his.

#byler #byler fanfic #andi writes not dies #byler ficlet

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cowboyjen68 · 7 months

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Hi!! For the past 8 months I’ve had a messy on and off thing w this girl. She was the first girl I ever had hooked up with & first person I’ve ever fell in love with. I always had trouble navigating the relationship bc I am used to fuckboys and having to work around boys being assholes & have no prior experience w girls romantically. We are on an off period rn and I am absolutely gutted. None of my friends or family have been with a girl so they don’t understand how much more devastating the heart break is with girls than it is guys. Do u have any advice on how to get over ur first woman heartbreak? I am so sad I will never find a connection with someone like I had with her.

I can't speak from any sort of bisexual experience since I don't have any connection to men beyond friendship but as a lesbian I can understand how, perhaps, a woman with sexual attraction to men and women would feel a closer connection with women. Having shared experiences and emotional pattern would lead to having a more intimate relationship, both physically and emotionally.

The age old answer of TIME is pretty accurate. I would suggest not dating anyone and taking some time to focus on things that you love whether that is your career, school, classes, friends, hobbies or whatever.

I have certainly had a powerful connection to a woman and thought to myself that I would never find another only to meet a woman with whom I not only had a deeper bond but who was able to love me for me and make me feel always safe and that we had a mutual passion.

Break ups are not failures. Not all relationships are meant to last a life time and that does not make them any less real or important, it just means they ran their course.

It sounds like, at the root of it, you two are never going to commit to being each other's one and only and that is not a judgement call. Not all two people who find love with one another are compatible. Often Love really is NOT enough.

You need to decide. You can continue in this cycle of on and off and be okay with that being how it is OR you can break it off and move on to heal and look for something more fulfilling and befitting of what you really want which is to be in a full time committed relationship with a woman.

Healing will take time and distance. Friendship between you is possible but not always the best or a feasible option. You can always circle back around to friendship once you have put the relationship aspects in the past.

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be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie · 1 year

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Not really bored this time, just don't want to work on these questions my history professor has given us so allow me to procrastinate by sending you another ask. I know this pairing isn't really our focus rn but honestly I find the Jake/Neytiri/Tsu'tey thing kind of cute.

For one I totally agree with your 0 romance between Neytiri and Tsu'tey take. I think they are really close friends but could never be romantic partners.

I imagine it's Neytiri who tells Tsu'tey to wake up and realize he likes Jake. She gets tired of him grumbling about him non-stop and is finally like "For Eywa's fucking sake just kiss him already".

For some reason the thought of not just Neytiri but also Tsu'tey reacting to the realization of Jake's betrayal gets me. Like, Tsu'tey had begun to fall in love with this man, but not just any man. A man who is working for the people responsible for killing the love of his life. And after months of building trust and finally thinking that he can let this person in Jake admits to his initially less than innocent intentions. Crushing.

I think that it would take Jake and Tsu'tey longer to mate before Eywa. Not exactly sure when or if Na'vi culture even permits it, but I think they would just because now Jake is Tsu'tey's mate for life as well.

I feel like Tsu'tey would commune with Sylwanin all the time in the beginning and tell her about Jake, especially during the very start when he's just beginning to feel these emotions towards him and feels not only guilt for "betraying" Sylwanin and having feelings for a Sky Person but but also just a yearning to get her advice.

I like the idea that somehow Jake gained the nickname "American Boy" from Tsu'tey one day, probably when he made some correction to a comment Tsu'tey made and was all like "technically I'm American" and Tsu'tey latched onto it. At first it was just used to tease but now it's a fond nickname.

I picture Jake taking them on separate date nights. Neytiri and him fly on their ikrans every friday evening while Jake and Tsu'tey go for evening rides on, like, saturdays after a long week of olo'eyktan duties on Tsu'tey's part (for some reason my mind just associates this man with pa'lis even though I know he has an ikran?? Like???). I like to think that Jake never really manages to vibe with any of the pa'li for the longest time and Tsu'tey enjoys watching the struggle and so he insists on pa'li rides (plus I feel like a part of him would see ikran rides as Jake and Neytiri's "thing" and want to do something different) but after awhile Jake finds one that he just kinda clicks with and by that point pa'li rides have become his and Tsu'tey's thing. Once a month all three of them will do something together too like have dinner or go for a swim or basically whatever else they feel like doing.

Don't even get me started on when the kids come into the picture. I'm fully committed to Neteyam being a mommy's boy with Neytiri and Kiri being a daddy's girl with Jake. Lo'ak is a daddy's boy too, but with Tsu'tey. From day one I picture Lo'ak just deciding that daddy #2 is his favorite person on the planet lol. Jake pretends to be offended, but both him and Neytiri are secretly really happy that Tsu'tey is getting to experience what they're experiencing with Neteyam and Kiri respectively. When Tuk is born she goes back and forth between all three of them with seemingly no preference.

I like the idea of Tsu'tey speaking mostly Na'vi with the kids, Jake speaking mostly English with them, and Neytiri switching in-between. Due to this, it became clear very quickly which parent had more influence on which kid when they began talking. Neteyam's first word? A weird hybrid of the English and Na'vi words for "where" (Neytiri handed him over to Jake and Neteyam reached out towards her retreating form and said "where" as if to ask where she was going). Kiri's first word? "Dada" in English (Jake stepped into their tent and Kiri saw him, perked up, and cried "Dada!"). Lo'ak's first word was "no" in Na'vi (he went through this phase where whenever Tsu'tey would try and put him down or hand him to Neytiri or Jake he would cling to Tsu'tey and say "no" over and over again. If they still managed to get him into someone else's arms he'd start crying and just throw a major fit). Tuk's first word was "'Teyam", which Jake claims doesn't count for anything since it's a name but he sure wasn't saying that when Kiri said dada (they may or may not have turned this into a competition).

When the kids are younger they love it when Tsu'tey takes them on pa'li rides and Neytiri or Jake takes them on ikran rides.

Also, when they are infants Neytiri, Jake, and Tsu'tey apply the "divide and conquer" method to them. Neytiri takes Neteyam, Jake takes Kiri, and Tsu'tey takes Lo'ak. Put them all in baby slings and boom, that's one less problem to worry about. I feel like Kiri outgrows the sling first but it's anyone's guess with Neteyam and Lo'ak.

I fully support the "Norm and Max reopen Grace's school" idea I've seen along with your "language beast Norm" idea. I picture that part of the reason he opens the school is for his 50+ adopted children who he wants to introduce to English but also he just loves sharing knowledge with others. I think he would introduce new things to the school that Grace maybe hadn't considered, like his horrifyingly extensive lecture on looming on Earth as a way to bring in an important part of Omatikaya culture but also educate them on English looming terms and human looming culture.

At first both Neytiri and Tsu'tey aren't all that keen on the idea of the school reopening, but Jake is all for it and they talk about it for weeks before Tsu'tey finally brings the idea to the children of the clan. A surprising number of them (of which Norm's adopted children make up a suspicious majority) agree to give the school another shot and so Tsu'tey and Neytiri agree that letting their kids go would be a good thing.

When it comes to Spider I'm uncertain. I know Tsu'tey would side with Neytiri far more than Jake when it comes to how he sees the boy, but Neytiri lost her sister and father whereas Tsu'tey lost the love of his life so maybe Neytiri would still be the more intense of the two? Feel free to give me your thoughts on it. Part of me wishes they would adopt Spider but I think we both know that with both Tsu'tey and Neytiri in the picture that would never happen.

I love the idea of Tsu'tey and Neytiri both just being so fascinated by Lo'ak and Kiri's little eyebrows and four little fingers. Like, Lo'ak's little baby eyebrows scrunch up and they're all like: "My Jake, look at them 🥺, What does it mean?" And Jake, who sees eyebrows as completely normal is all like: "Haha oh yeah, they do that. Might want to check his diaper."

I like to imagine that when it comes time for the alphabet in Norm's little preschool section of the class Jake gets everyone on board with singing the apples and bananas song. "Okay guys, one more time! I like to ate, ate, ate, ay-ples and banay-nays!"

Norm and his boyfriend definitely babysit for them on date nights lol, and they expect the favor to be returned whenever the situation calls for it.

Tsu'tey still communes with Slywanin a lot, but now there is nothing but happiness in the stories he has to tell her.

This somehow turned into a whole Neytiri/Jake/Tsu'tey as parents thing I apologize 😂

So many things I love about this first paragraph:

First, the boredom era escalating. I love that ur the same anon every time I guess we name u Boredom Anon I'll go backtag. Any anon can feel free to be named lol.

ALSO the idea that we are all on the same thing on this blog at all times, I love that sm I was worried I was forcing you all into a nocorro era. But literally no worries hit me with anything at any time, I love it.

-EXACTLY Neytiri and Tsu'tey can be platonic soulmates.

-Tsu'tey is like THAT'S YOUR MATE and Neytiri's like "Jake has... two hands??? You can hold the other???"

-DUDE TSU'TEY LET HIM IN AFTER SYLWANIN. Jake knows that trusting him was so hard, and the betrayal Tsu'tey must've felt like he'd done to Sylwanin? Insane. Not only did he forget her and move on and fall in love again, but it was with one of the people who caused her death. Yeah Jake wasn't there but he's one of them.

-Absolutely Tsu'tey and Jake would take longer to mate before Eywa, this man does not make impulse decisions like Jake and Neytiri. He had thought through every consequence and every worse case scenario fifteen times. He's probably convinced himself if he even looks at Jake wrong he's Avatar will collapse due to some butterfly effect.

-Oh lol you hit the guilt angle too! Can you tell I'm responding to each one as I read it so my thoughts are all fresh? Sylwanin is very encouraging, to the point that she goes full in in hopes of scaring him into it like "no I bet Jake is good at sex u gotta find out" and Tsu'tey can't go back to the Spirit Tree for like a week.

-I LOVE the separate date nights, that's so cute. How did this man Jake Sully stumble into the forest and just steal Pandora's two most influential and eligible bachelors, what's next, Tonowari??? He's insane. Jake only vibing with one Pa'li is canon and sometimes Tsu'tey has someone take that Pa'li away so Jake is all fucked up.

-THE CHILDREN I'm obsessed. I love the idea of Jake pretending to be offended by Lo'ak preferring Tsu'tey. He's like "that's not your Dad, Lo'ak, I helped make you!" and Lo'ak is like "gross, get away from me." Jake is always insisting this entire operation falls apart if he isn't at the center (of the sleeping pile which is where he sleeps) and then everyone always almost unanimously pretends to vote him out of the family.

-Norm in his school, teaching all the kids to knit and telling them all Tsu'tey needs a sweater: i'm gonna ruin this man's whole career.

-I agree, I don't think we'd get Spider Sully here. I do wonder how him and Lo'ak's relationship is affected if Tsu'tey is Lo'ak's favorite parent and Tsu'tey is against Spider. I don't see Lo'ak not standing up for Spider, and I see this causing a rift between them faster than it would between Neytiri and Lo'ak just because Lo'ak's relationship with his mother is different than with his fathers. I think the issue would've been pushed sooner, and Kiri would jump rIGHT the fuck in as soon as it started.

-HOW DARE YOU ACKNOWLEDGE NORM AND HIS MADE UP BOYFRIEND RITU TO ME I'm crying real tears this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Although, you have given me a thought... Why have we never considered... Tsu'tey surviving and then HIM being Norm's boyfriend....

nEVER apologize for sending me long headcanon asks, wether they are for me to enjoy or just situations you want to to write about or expand on. It's called 'we are mindmelding get in' for a reason, we are all melding minds. I love them sm and I hope I do them justice!

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heliosrisingheroesimagines · 2 months

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Would you be willing to do the Venus Signs for the Yellow West too? I loved reading the previous headcanons so much! - from a fellow astrology geek 💖💫

(Me not doing this for the groups with my top 2 fave characters..... for shame

For Junior's I imagined him a little older and little more mature, when he'd be more invested in romance than as a baby like he is in canon rn lmao)

WEST SECTOR VENUS SIGNS

Dino Albani:

Pisces Venus. Dino has always been a highly intuitive person, not to mention emotionally intelligent, so it’s only natural that the connection you felt with him was almost instantaneous. He’s a partner who wants to have fun, finding creative ways to bond and experience life together. You’ll never experience a love more unconditional than the one Dino displayed for you, though his Aries sun makes him rather direct so don’t think he’ll allow you to run from any problems you might have.

Faith Beams:

Aries Venus. Faith is someone who needs that excitement, that thrill, a real challenge since people throw themselves at him with reckless abandon. He wants a person who can keep him on his toes but isn’t annoying about it, still displaying an interest but making it known they won’t let him give them anything less than the world. He naturally takes the lead but it always sparked his interest when you decided to take the reins, trusting you not to lead you both to your demise.

Keith Max:

Scorpio Venus. On the surface, Keith doesn’t seem to fulfill the ‘Scorpio Venus’ stereotype of ‘obsessive’ or pro-active but he’s a person who loves deeply. He wants to know you intimately and that includes knowing the negative parts of you, the ones you’d be embarrassed or horrified for others to see. His vices are on display for all to see, which he hated, but it didn’t quite feel right if he didn’t know what your weaknesses were too. Ultimately, he wanted to know and love the real you, which meant having to dig a little deeper as frustrating as those conversations may be.

Leonard Wright Jr:

Taurus Venus. Ever the hard worker, Junior is motivated to work twice as hard to provide you a life that you deserve. Loyalty was a serious thing to him, and there’s no one else that would catch his eye after he determined you were the one for him. He doesn’t get people who cheat or those who have a partner yet still flirt with others, because he felt no inclination from the moment he set his heart on you. You find that he’s a true romantic, always trying his hardest to set up nice dates for you to be alone together (and he even wrote a song for you once, but he’s too embarrassed to bring that up later in your relationship).

EAST SECTOR VENUS SIGNS

Asch Albright:

Leo Venus. Asch is a man whose lived in luxury his entire life, so it’s only natural he wants to give his partner the same life he had. He will not let you accept anything less than extravagant and he will complain if you try to make him tone it down, wondering if you just don't know what it's like to be loved by someone like him. He liked when you looked good together and would be even happier if you were considered a power couple, thinking the name fit you both perfectly.

Billy Wise:

Gemini Venus. You’re in for a ride with Billy, if you couldn’t tell from what you know of his personality already, but you’ll never have a dull time. He can run hot and cold but not because his feelings for you fluctuate, but because committing wholeheartedly to a person makes him nervous. Giving your heart away is a big deal, and making friends was far different than falling in love, though the pain of losing that might be equal in his mind. You’ll have to earn his friendship first and even then it might take time, but Billy’s constant flirting and allowing you to get closer to him than he’s ever let someone get before.

Gray Reverse:

Cancer Venus. Gray needs some security and affirmations, even with his confident (very slowly) building up; he needs to know he’s not a burden on you, that his faults aren’t deal-breakers, and that you’ll love him despite the great amount of patience it requires to be with him. He’s naturally thoughtful and intuitive, knowing what you need before you even know, and there’s a part of you that wanted to tease him on what an expert boyfriend he was. He truly loves you unconditionally, to the point it’s almost worship, which can throw others off but you know better than to take advantage of your loving boyfriend.

Jay Kidman:

Sagittarius Venus. It goes without saying that Jay was a difficult man to pin down, something that might be odd for a man who had a wife at one point, but he admitted to being swept up in the adventure of it all when he was young. He tries to take romance a little more seriously now which is why he doesn’t ‘commit’ to long-term arrangements often, a man who fully enjoyed his singleness as he focused on being a hero. He’s someone who needs the space to be who he is but once you show you not only support him but seek out a life and adventure of your own, he’s more than happy to change what could’ve been a temporary connection into something more permanent.

#Helios Rising Heroes #Helios Rising Heroes x Reader #Helios Rising Heroes Imagines #HeliosR #Helios Rising #Helios Rising Imagines #Helios Rising x Reader #Keith Max #Dino Albani #Faith Beams #Leonard Wright Jr #Asch Albright #Billy Wise #Gray Reverse #Jay Kidman #Venus Signs

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arrenlebanen777 · 1 year

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LIFE OBSERVATIONS ❁❁❁

I see a lot of men crying about women/female nature and how they were manipulated/cheated/ betrayed and then they go to the gym to grow from pain, but they only become colder/ narcissistic/ egotistical and this stupid villain archetype that gets you pretty empty arguing and crying about women's bodycount/ their loose s*x lives/etc... But the stupidest thing is that the highest percentage of humans who consume p*rn, onlyfans, and all that shit are men, WTF?, if you see that this is happening it is mostly because we are allowing it. if men were really picky(mature), if we learned to manage our s*xual energy better, if we became more sensitive to life and less to our egos(minds), if we find something more transcendental than our beliefs/thoughts/feelings, and we become really clear about what we want from life/relationships and know what our real needs are...well, nothing of this would be happening. This whole issue of relationships/dating is something quite psychological and energetic, women are looking for the father figure that they did not have or had but is no longer in their lives in other mens, looking for the father archetype’s in each man (someone economically stable, independent, emotionally intelligent, funny, masculine, strong, wise, attractive, adventurous) and let me tell you that this is called: Divine masculine (the same thing happens with men). Why do men only look for s*x? Because if they unconsciously/instinctively see that a woman has nothing more to contribute/offer to a relationship other than demands and s*x, then they will only look for what gives them pleasure the most, that is s*x, and then they will forget about her / this goes both ways, and this my friends is called “Hookup Culture”. The funny thing is that as long men and women don't find something more transcendental than society, Ego, their minds and themselves... they will only continue to become more perverted, stupid, with shitty mental health’s, making decisions they regret, s*xually dirty /nasty because they don't know anything more transcendental than that. Also i noticed that depressed people are mostly sensitive people who don’t fit in with the superficialities of the society/world and well, traumas, childhood issues and all that too. Another thing, therapy is a very powerful / important but delicate process, so trying to do therapy on your own is like trying to do surgery on your own, because you are treating something very important but delicate that is your mind/mental health. Also therapy can make you really attractive, not the attractiveness of the Ego or Narcissism but genuinely attractiveness, Yes you can do the route of Ego attractiveness, it’s Okay, nothing is stopping you but see how it goes on the long run, it could make you feel very empty and is a really really hard working process, and therapy is a healing process, but you have to know how to go to therapy and this is where people stagnate or do not have good “results”, because many go to therapy just because they want to heal or be treated but they do not know very well what they need/want to heal, so my recommendation is to make a list of things that you want to treat in therapy, because that will open the doors and possibilities of your deep healing. So don't do things like self-diagnose and stuff like that because it's a pretty stupid move for your evolution/process. Another thing, if someone did you wrong or did hurt you your job is take care of yourself, of course you could talk with your friends about the issue and with your therapist, but is not your job destroying the life of that person, actually that is very nasty and it leads nowhere, because starting to destroy/expose the lives of the people who hurt you so that other people practically destroy them, you are committing a horrible crime, you are practically leaving no room for error and growth, which is part of human nature, you are practically using again the tyrannical practices that the Nazis did, yes I know it is painful, but your job is to take care of yourself, heal and move on, not destroy someone else's life, and if you think they should pay, believe me they will pay, Saturn will take care of that, don't worry. 🌿If you wanna see more posts like this, tell me on the comments<3🌿

#life #therapy #healing #astro community #spirituality #spiritual journey #spiritualawakening #spiritualgrowth #healing process #life process #astrology blog #saturn

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averagejoesolomon · 1 month

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lmao, good luck you guys, I'm crying for so many different reasons rn. Please have so much fun with this one. If you're new here, you can read all of Full Circle on Ao3. Enjoy!

Chapter Eight

Matt’s never found a safe house shower that’s left him satisfied, but this one does a decent job of washing the Bolshoi down the drain. He gets a full ten minutes before the hot water runs cold, which gives him just enough time to find the start of a plan in the grout between each tile. The middle of his plan comes to him in the steam-shrouded path between bathroom and bedroom, while the end reveals itself at the bottom of his go-bag, right next to his favorite pair of wool socks. By the time he finally spots the passports, he already knows exactly how to sneak them out of the house, and exactly how to get them back.

Rachel's left the leather messenger bag completely unattended, looped around a golden hook on the back of the bedroom door. It hangs with a lopsided lilt, slouching under the weight of nearly a dozen different identities, and Matt reckons he could reach right for it. Pluck it from the hook and strap it over his shoulder. Take it before Rachel even knew it was gone, and leave her with all the plausible deniability in the world.

Except he hasn’t made up his mind quite yet. And anyway, he really ought to put on some pants before he fully commits to violating the Espionage Act.

“Oh.” It’s the last voice he wants to hear right now. It’s the first voice he wants to hear, always. Both. “Sorry, I didn’t realize—”

As the door swings open, Rachel stops short in the archway, her hair still wavy and wet with the smell of sage and lavender shampoo. He sometimes forgets—although he doesn’t know how—just how many freckles she has when she’s not all made up, especially in the summer months. He can always tell when she’s fresh off the plane from Italy, or France, or Spain, betrayed by the hundreds of little spots sprinkled across a sun-kissed red. He sees that same rosy color in her cheeks now, although that’s probably got less to do with recent European excursions, and much more to do with the fact that Matt is wearing nothing but a towel.

Matt blinks, unsure of the protocol in this particular situation. “No trouble,” he says. “You, uh, looking for something?”

“You.” Rachel doesn’t blink. Not even once. “I was looking for you.”

She seems to have that much covered. In fact, she’s looking at him more than she’s looking for him, with all the same attention to detail she brings to every other facet of her life. Dark eyes slip across his torso like she’s taking in the layout, making note of every entrance, every route, every room she wants to hit along the way. In this particular department, Matt’s got nothing to hide—a clandestine lifestyle does plenty of favors for a fella’s core strength, to say nothing of all those dawns spent lagging behind Joe as they run laps up and down the Mall—but it’s strange to be on the receiving end of such a tactical and overt scan. Stranger still that he might like it.

He really likes it, actually.

The longer her look lingers, the more he’s able to settle into his own enjoyment. There’s a physicality to her gaze, as tangible as if she reached out to touch him. Her eyes brush across his chest, trail down his obliques, and wrap around his middle just in time to work their way back up again. Matt’s always been a good, wholesome looking guy, according to his mama and every girlfriend he’s ever had. But this moment proves he’s got the kind of looks that make a girl like Rachel Cameron stop and stare, which is a whole new level as far as he’s concerned.

“Well, you found me,” he says, unable to bite back a broad grin. He has to catch himself and straighten his features into something more serious. “And, uh”—he clears his throat—“keep finding me, seems like.”

She flits across his collar, down his shoulders, biceps, forearms, hands. “What?”

Matt lets out a huff of a laugh. “My eyes are up here, Ace,” he teases, throwing two guiding fingers toward his face. “Not that I can’t appreciate a wandering eye.”

Finally, she blinks like she’s making up for lost time. One, two, three, right in a flustered row. “Sorry,” she says, and he swears she’s turning redder. “Oh my god, no, sorry. I just—I didn’t realize you had so many scars.”

Now it’s Matt’s turn to feel the flush rise to his face, not because he minds her looking, but because he didn’t realize she was looking that closely. He’s never been asked about his scars before, not least because few people ever see them. Outside of his own reflection, Joe’s the only one to know when Matt adds a new cut to his collection, and that’s only because Joe’s usually the one stitching him back together. He’s never had to answer for the menagerie of pink and silver marks puckered across his skin. Never had to explain why he seems to be more scar than not.

Matt doesn’t consider himself to be a nervous man, but something about Rachel noticing all of his long healed hurt gets his heart all twisted in a tizzy.

“Yeah, well,” he says with a shrug. “Knife wound here, gunshot there, a questionable tussle with a Spanish bull—you know how it is.”

“That’s not funny,” she reminds him.

“Wasn’t joking,” he promises, but this doesn’t console her the way he hopes. He tries another approach. “I’m sure you’ve got your fair share.”

She won’t stand for it. “That’s not a fair share, Matthew.” She eases closer, one step at a time and thoughtless in a way she never is. “Look at you. How many knives are you going to take to your side before you learn to cover it—and are those cigar burns?”

Her attention starts to feel sharper, infused with equal parts scrutiny and curiosity. Rachel’s the type of person who likes to understand how things happen, and he can feel her calculating the angle, force, and method behind every last mark. It’s a dangerous game, trying to guess all the ways a guy’s been wounded. Leaves too much room for the imagination.

“That’s the thing about the Russian Mob,” he says, trying to cut through her conclusions before they go too far off the tracks. “Once they get their hands on you, they’ll make you talk one way or another. Sometimes that means taking cigars to your chest for six hours straight.”

These scars are courtesy of low-level mobsters—that much is true. He leaves out that one of the mobsters was a Circle informant on the verge of switching sides, before he was found dead in his apartment a day later with a suicide note written in someone else’s hand. After a night like that, Joe had to haul Matt out of the country via cargo plane to avoid suspicion at customs.

What Rachel doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Finally, she trades tangible looks for real, honest touch. Her fingertips grace the field of burns from left to right, silently counting as she goes—twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—before she lands on the mark just an inch from his heart. “Doesn’t look like you did much talking.”

Her hands are warmer than usual, but Matt still fights a shiver. “I try not to make a habit of it.”

Her eyes finally meet his, with that same appraising severity she spared for his scars. She studies him, intently, before saying, “I know that about you.”

They’ve had this same conversation before—or one like it, at least—on the procedural, bureaucratic training grounds of Camp Perry. He remembers a younger Rachel waiting for him after four long nights of sleepless, shivering, hungry Hail Marys and only now, years later, does it occur to him to wonder why she was the first one to greet him. “You never told me,” he says, “what they did to you. Back in training, when they took us all away and…”

Her hand falls, but her gaze does not. “That’s need-to-know.”

Matt tries, “What about want-to-know?”

“Matthew—”

“What did they do, Rachel?”

They’re right on the verge of one another, ready to fall straight into whatever shared past, present, and future they have. An answer sits at the edge of her lips, hesitant, and he could wait a lifetime just as long as she keeps looking at him like this—chin up to meet his height, eyes wide and wanting, her breath rising and falling just inches from his own. He likes the way she fits at his front, likes how his broadness compliments her petite frame, likes that she ain’t afraid to get right up in his face and tell him how things are.

She takes a step back.

The only thing that keeps Matt from reaching out, wrapping an arm around her hip, and pulling her firmly back into place, is the fact that he’s got socks in one hand and a towel in the other. That, and he’s pretty sure that Rachel’s hands are actual, registered lethal weapons. He’s got no choice but to let her pull away. “I came in here to tell you that Townsend will be sleeping on the sofa.”

“You…” It’s a Cameron family specialty, to change subjects so abruptly it leaves his head spinning. “Uh, okay. Suppose I can take the floor.”

She works her way across the room and plucks a silk scrunchie from the nightstand, slipping it around her wrist. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, pulling up her hair with that special one-two-three movement women do. “You’ll take the bed.”

Sage and lavender waft through the room as she twists her hair into a bun with all the casual magic of Houdini tying knots. “I already told you,” he protests. “My mama would kill me if I let you—”

“I’m also taking the bed.” She keeps herself busy by fluffing the pillows and straightening the wrinkles from the quilt. “It's a queen. I don’t really need the whole thing to myself, do I?”

This is phrased like a question, but coming from Rachel, it sounds more like an irrefutable fact. She has that effect, always speaking with enough certainty that everything she says sounds like a universal truth. Usually, it’s in Matt’s best interest to take her at her word, but this one will take some extra convincing, on account of how it sends his stomach flipping.

“You and me?”

“Yes.”

“In the same bed?”

“Yes.”

“At the same time?”

“Matt, please don’t be a boy about this,” she says. “Abby and I share all the time.”

If Matt were to name all of the differences between Abby and himself, they would be here well into the night, the most notable among them being that Matt ain’t anyone’s sister. “You don’t think this is maybe a little different, than you and Abby?”

She glances up at him, a challenge in her eye. “Why?”

There it is again. That edge that sits between them. Over the years, they’ve become experts at dancing along this particular cliff side, and Matt doesn’t have the guts to jump first. Instead, he hooks two fingers through the strap of his bag and starts toward the door. A retreat. “I’m going to get changed.”

“Change in here.”

“Rachel—”

“I’m leaving,” she says, all innocence and throwing her hands up to each side to prove it. She’s already following through on her promise by the time she says, “Get dressed. Get settled. I’ll work out Townsend’s watch schedule with Abe and Grace—are you okay to take him for an hour or two?”

What Rachel doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “Sure.”

She closes the door as she goes, leaving the messenger bag swinging on its hook. Its buckles scrape against the wood, back and forth, back and forth, and Matt knows he has a decision to make. The more he thinks about it, the more it comes down to the same two options he always runs into: Joe or Rachel. Except this time, the answer ain’t so obvious.

For now, all he can do is follow the instructions he was given. He towels off, gets dressed, and meanders back to the main room. Abe’s made bedtime tea and tries to coax Matt into a cup. Grace has found a deck of cards and challenged Townsend to a game of War. The couple share a sickeningly long kiss before Abe retires to the bedroom, leaving his wife on the first watch shift.

It’s late and getting later, but Matt doesn’t recognize the evening for what it is. Throughout his career, he’s spent so many nights fighting off sleep that he doesn’t realize how tired he is, until Rachel calls to him from across the room. “Matthew,” she says. “Come to bed.”

She’s standing in the doorway of their shared bedroom and, for a moment, Matt spots a flash of everything he wants in the world—Rachel Cameron, freckle-faced and hair tied, beckoning him to sleep. Rest. Be, right beside her. It’s enough to stop his breath. It’s enough to get him up and moving without a fight.

They navigate by moonlight creeping through the cracks of closed curtains. Rachel slips into her side of the bed, and Matt fumbles into what is apparently his side. The mattress groans, and the frame squeaks, and while Matt admits this is an upgrade from the hellish loveseat, he still can’t find any comfort. He clings to the far edge of the bed, giving Rachel ample space, stiff as a board while he stares up at the wood paneled ceiling.

But slowly, slowly, her warmth seeps through their shared blankets, and his must too. Her low, even breaths fill the spaces between his own. He begins to unwind, one muscle at a time, until enough seconds have passed and enough sleep has taken over that he asks, voice heavy, “Rachel?”

And she responds, “Mmm?”

“What did they do?” he needs to know. “At Camp Perry, what did they do to you?”

He can’t see her through the darkness, but he’s got this crystal clear memory of her with a black eye, waiting for him with worry woven into her every feature. Her answering voice perfectly matches the version of her in his mind’s eye. “Nothing.”

“Fine, don’t tell me.”

“I mean it,” she says, vowels drawn out and sleepy. “They didn’t put me in a training cell. Didn’t starve me, or freeze me out, or beat me. I just had to…sit there, knowing that I didn't fight hard enough. Hell, I didn’t even have to do that—I was free to go about my day.”

He lets his head fall to the side, pressing past his pillow until he spots her silhouette. It’s a perfect profile. The curve of her cheek, the slope of her nose, and round, easy lips. “But you didn’t,” he guesses. “You couldn’t.”

She turns to look at him now, and he can feel her gaze, even if he can’t see it. “If my sister’s screaming behind a door,” she says, “I’m going to be on the other side of it, trying my damnedest to get it open, even if I know it won’t make a difference.”

That’s what Rachel does. She covers Abby. She covers her father. “Yeah.” And now she’s covering him. “I know that about you.”

It doesn’t take much, to cast an exploratory reach toward her side of the bed and come back with her hand in his. Her fingers are back to their usual chill, like the first day of fall after a blazing hot summer, and he likes the way their palms fit together. She must too, because she squeezes once, twice, testing the feel of it.

“You waited for me,” he goes on. “After Abby was released, you were still there, waiting for me.”

There’s a hitch in her breath. He can see it in the rise of her chest. Hear it interrupt the steady beat he’s long latched onto. “Yes.”

And maybe his own breath hitches, too. “Why?”

One more time, they find themselves on the edge of almost. Except this time, Rachel’s tired enough to fall. “I liked you.”

He smiles. “You had a funny way of showing it.”

“Maybe I didn’t like you yet,” she admits. “Maybe I just liked the idea of you. Maybe I hoped you could become someone great, and maybe I hoped I could be a part of that.”

“Am I?” he wonders. “Great?”

“Better,” she says. “You’re good.”

It wouldn’t mean anything coming from anyone else. But because it comes from her, it means absolutely everything. “You’re a part of that, y’know.”

She gives his hand another squeeze and laces her fingers between his. Before long, she falls asleep like that, and Matt reckons her touch could keep him pinned in place until his very last breath. For the first time in his adult life, he understands why his pops is always praising simple pleasures.

And by God, he really is in love with her.

This is a revelation that comes at exactly the wrong time, although, if he’s honest with himself, it has slowly and steadily snuck into their years together. In hindsight, he realizes this is exactly how it’s supposed to happen. It’s impossible to fall in love with Rachel Cameron overnight, because there’s too much to her for any one person to love all at once. She ought to be savored, piece by piece, laugh by laugh, fight by infuriating fight. She ought to be discovered—taken in time, taken in stride, taken by surprise—rather than given without effort or care. To love Rachel is to know her, and understand her, and anticipate her every word.

He decides, then and there, what he’s going to do. Dozing off at her side, he takes sleep where it will come. The hours pass and soon it’s Matt’s turn to watch over Townsend. He carefully slips out of her hold, shakes the kid awake, and takes the messenger bag from its golden hook, trying to be the good man Rachel Cameron thinks he is.

#full circle #THIS KID #IS GONNA KILL ME #I'm fine #nothing is going to go wrong #(except I know what's coming and uh)#(well)#(buckle up)

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confused-nanoparticle · 1 year

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Forgetting previous tag vent but I gotta ramble about All Saints Street fr !!! Send help !!

Disclaimer : so far, i just watched the donghua and i saw some part of the manhua here and there. And got some infos from fanfics bc i couldn't wait fr

Plus I don't watch a lot of animes, like maybe one every year/2 years, which explain the big feels-

Also I was genuinely surprised by it ? Bc even if i knew it was a goofy and good small donghua from what I heard, I thought a lot of things would be kinda... one dimensional.

(i added more in the reblogs lmao)

All Saints Street is so fucking cute i can't

Especially the angel and demon crew.

I was so happy when I noticed that Neil, all cute, good-hearted and clumsy was sometimes a bit of a savage, especially with his brother in the manhua (deserved ngl, even if Nick was just trying his best and thought he was helping, he sucked at it).

Same for Lily, i loved the fact that she's a battle angel, and mischievious, and not only the straight A student little miss perfect. She's no perfect cutie pie and little me would have relate to her or Neil SOOOOO much.

Neil and Lily are really a nd4nd ship lmao.

And Lynn !! I love that even if he doesn't approve the fact that Neil is crushing on his sister and he's protective, and that he's tired of the mess of Neil and his brother are doing, he doesn't hate Neil. He even likes him, bc he likes young people and Neil is so sweet and full of good.

And same with his relationship with Nick !! I thought this ship was going to be a bit too cliché for me but. They fight and bickers but- Lynn gets genuinely touched when Nick didn't forget his birthday and even gave him a good gift like. It's smh realistic ?? They can tolerate each other (from what i saw in the manhua too) and even spent good time with each other but they are both adults and dumb as fuck with feelings.

I really see Lynn not only as a character, but a strictly catholic-raised autistic bisexual man with a lot of childhood neglect that he's trying to compensate by being overly protective of his sister and loved ones.

Now that I think about it, especially with his "there's not bad student, only bad teachers" thing, he's making me think of my uncle but less anxious 💀

Then Nick. Bro this man stole my heart but that's probably due to the denial I had about liking him at first. I genuinely thought i wasn't going to like him as much as I do rn ?? He looked like "just" a smug mischevious kinda OP bastard and that's it. And even if those characters are cool and I like them, I didn't think more about it. BUT BROOOOO HE'S PATHETIC /pos

He isn't OP at all, he's a bit stupid, and probably the queerest mofo of the serie. And he genuinely thought he was helping is lil brother, and he genuinely likes Lynn. It's a bit of "pulling pigtails for attention" situation ngl, and it's funny for once. He cares ! He's a lot and smug about it !

Also, I haven't read the manhua yet, but from what I saw, I hold no sympathy for his father 💀💀💀 bro left his kid and asks him to get him out off trouble and makes him believe that he cares about him and DUUUUDE i'm so mad that Nick still loves his dad. Not in a "it's a bad trope" way, but more like in a "it's actually realistic but rn i see my friend who took years to realise how bad and abusive was their relationship with their parents and same for me and my mom" way. Like I wanna punch the man far from Nick so much.

Maybe I'm wrong and I'm missing stuff but >:( fuck his dad

Also idk if it's a canon thing but the whole commitment issues from Nick makes sense and my angsty decided to obviously blame his father lmao

Like he kinda wants to be like his father bc of his blind admiration but also... "no, dad didn't leave bc of Neil" and the unsaid "he left bc of me" that a lot of person in his situation have probably thought at one point in their life sadly, which makes him scared of people genuinely loving him. y-yeah... i love being sad /j

Also lmao. Nick is babygirl.

(the pic at the bottom)

Oh and it was S2 ep10 lmao-

#nano.txt #nano RAMBLES even #i'm going to send this post to every friends that talks english and that watched A.S.S. (LMFAO AHAHAH) after i bothered them enough #...i don't want to main tag but i also want to find this post back in my account.........#welp #all saints street

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glitterock · 6 months

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I love ur gender, tbh I've always felt like that too (woman to lesbians and nb to everyone else) and it's like !!!!!! I can put it into words instead of just saying half nonbinary lmao. cause tbh the only ppl who make me feel like a woman are other lesbians. in conclusion lesbians are the greatest ppl on earth <3 luv ur blog vibes, and pillow princesses/high femmes deserve the world

also ur poly ? could u make a post bout that like... idk mentioning a lil more bout ur experiences w that, also do u have a free love "relationship anarchy" type thing where everyone gets the same amt of commitment etc, or do u have a main anchor type gf along w other relationships? cause I am in a poly relationship rn and it is going kinda ehhhhhh and most shit online I've tried looking for advice is wayyyyy too unrelatable for my taste. not just struggling w jealousy but it's kinda like there's sm empty feeling and I think the prob is not having an anchor partner but idk

not trying to b TMI or whateverrrrrrrrr and sorry I wrote so much !! not expecting a reply or anything I'm sure u get a lot of messages lol

have a wonderful day!! :)))

hehe thank you ! glad u like my vibes !

and yes i have a handful of experience with being poly and i’ve tried many different poly relationship styles and honestly yeah it’s really just about trying it out and seeing what feels right. The relationship i was in where i had one primary partner and we both got to have casual dates and sex with others probably worked out the best for me and made me feel the most secure and fulfilled out of any relationship i’ve ever had. We were also long distance which is why this worked well for me, and I liked knowing that no matter who we were hooking up with, me and my partner were actively choosing each other to be with (that is until they left me for someone they were hooking up with but that’s not the point haha before that it was all great!)

i also have been in poly relationships/situationships where i’ve been the secondary partner/have been seeing people who were primary partners and i haaaaated that. i think it was also partly the fault of the other people for various reasons, but to me, that kind of poly relationship was extremely unfulfilling and made me feel like i was only being appreciated when i presented myself in a sexual manner. I realized that i myself definitely am more secure when i’m going to be in some sort of relationship with people that want to prioritize me always not just when i’m invited into the bedroom. i think being a priority is where i draw the line with being non-monogamous and i don’t think i would try a polycule/dating primary partners ever again. im sure some polycules exists that are free of favoritism and bias but im not willing to try that again to find it

i use “poly” as an easy umbrella term but i less consider myself polyamorous (which i define as being able to have multiple committed relationships with multiple people at once) and more consider myself non monogamous where i prefer to have a primary or “anchor” partner who is separate from my casual dating/sex life. I also wouldn’t mind trying monogamy again one day, just not in this stage of my life when im young and traveling and just love making connections with the people around me !

idk i think a lot of queer people are poly or some variation of it these days so i think it’s easy for people to feel pressure to be a certain kind of poly or just poly in general when really you shouldn’t be doing anything you don’t feel secure with just to please others. i hope this helps and good luck!

#anon

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rozcdust · 1 year

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Hi! I wanted to stop by to tell you, that I love your humor sm and thank you for posting your stories and smaus, they really brighten my mood (and I’m mentally not really in a great place rn, so I’m truly thankful for every smile, that I’m able to crack bc of you and other writers) 🫶 also good luck on your exams, you can do it! 😊🍀

Oh and I have a question about you being aroace if that’s alright (you can simply ignore this part if not). I’m pretty sure that I’m aroace (but also bi?) too but I still sometimes like people to a certain degree, but I’m not sure if that’s really „enough“ if that makes sense. Mh it’s complicated to explain. How would you explain your sexuality? Do you still like people sometimes? All in all I don’t think I’m fit for a „normal“ relationship. And most people also seem to be disappointed when I try to explain my feelings? I really like your series where y/n is in a qpr with kazutora our beloved maybe that’s something I could try to achieve, but I’m actually pretty good with being alone too so 🤷‍♀️ yeah idk. It’s hard in a world where everything is about romance or hook ups 🙄 (although I must say that I love my fictional crushes and daydreams 😂 just not in real life ig) thanks in advance for your reply! xxx

you are so cute anon, thank you so much! 💖💖 i can’t even begin to describe how much it means to me to hear my works, as well as works of other writers, brighten your day at least a bit 🧡🧡

it is absolutely alright with me! in fact, i dropped my studying (exam is in an hour 🫠) to answer this ask, i love talking about being aroace lmfao

first of, it it totally normal to question being aroace a lot! being aroace is a hugely personal and complex experience and there isn’t a lot of talk about being aroace other than ‘lack of romantic and sexual attraction’ unfortunately

a lot of aroace people are/think they are bi for the longest time (i knew i was bi since 13, realised i was aroace at 19), and this may be just me, but mostly it’s because, well, i had the same amount of attraction to both men and women (that amount being zero didn’t matter, it was still the same amount)

personally, i consider myself aroace and bi since i wouldn’t mind a qpp with either a man or a woman, but i still have no sexual or romantic attraction to either, all of my attraction is based on either aesthetics or gender envy

there is also, what i feel isn’t discussed at all basically, a thing almost similar to comphet with being aroace that i also experienced a lot and that deterred me from realising my sexuality sooner - because i do get huge crushes still and consider some people hot! and what all those people i have ‘crushes’ on share is that they’re absolutely unattainable for a relationship - there’s either too large of an age gap (as in, a man i consider hot is 60 and could literally be my grandfather), long distance or they’re fictional - and as soon as any of my more attainable ‘crushes’ do show being interested in me, i lose all interest immediately

people who are allo truly do have difficultly understanding being aroace, as much as aroaces don’t get having attraction, but since romance and sex was shoved into our faces since birth, we’re less bitchy about it - ex. i did not realise there is supposed to be like a feeling or ‘sparks’ when kissing someone, it always felt the exact same as kissing a wall for me

kazutora’s and y/n’s relationship in ‘i don’t speak to whores’ is very much a portrayal of an ideal relationship for me - committed and platonically loving, basically a roommate you can cuddle and share taxes with, and i wish there were more portrayals of queer platonic partnerships in media tbh 😭

i hope this answer helped you somewhat! and remember, a label isn’t necessary unless you want it, you can do you without having to explain shit to anyone 💕💕

#💮deiasks #a #asexuality #this is my fav topic istg #aromantic

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abri-chan · 1 year

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Chapter 36, Sadistic Beauty BL

If I were Minho and I just woke up from my coma to see hobbo-looking WK shouting at me, I would be so pissed and tell him to GTFO and look presentable/put some effort. Is it not enough the first face I see is yours, but you look like shit, even worse than I do, and I have been in a coma for who knows how long!

In a way, how dare WK make this about himself again, no I would not be happy to see how tired and unkempt you look, as though not putting effort around my comatose body (bc you so couldn't leave my side, could you?) shows how much you love me, when it's your own fucking fault I attempted to take my own life.

----

Idk the translation yet, but the least WK can do is let Minho free. Give him all your money and let him go. Minho has been in a coma but what is your excuse for looking like shit WK?

Update: So WK asks Minho to leave his house, doesn't even say sorry to the man for causing him to commit suicide, Minho instead has to say thank you for saving my life? I understand the stress of it all, but there's nicer ways to go about this: apologize, arrange some money for Minho (if he doesn't want to touch the money, he can give that money to charity for all you care), and so on so Minho can recover. Otherwise, where the fuck will he go after you isolated him and cut off any attempt he made at working? He has no savings and no house to go to. Why drop him like a sack of potatoes, especially since this is all your fault?

Furthermore, making Minho feel guilt for being suicidal is such a stab to the back, since he's vulnerable right now mentally and where he needs the most support emotionally. Yet, you blame Minho for how you cannot think of anything else than his breathless body, and all the words you told him about always being with him and how you only could love him cannot surpass that image? (So no statue of liberty, you bitch?) Minho has such grounds to sue WK's and on so many criminal charges that WK's rich mommy and daddy better be willing to open up their wallets. (I hope you paid the hospital fees at least, and didn't dump Minho on the Korean taxpayers to care for... Really this man can't get out of his mom's shadow and it's all about him him him, and it's all words but he never acts on his words-- he presumably has the right emotions but lacks the action part to materialize his love.)

I'm kinda happy for Minho also dragging his ass for looking unshaved and aged in this one, and making him mad. I can see WK still has anger issues, but he's mellowing out. I don't want to judge anyone's mental health rn bc they both went through trauma, but I feel less empathy for WK bc this was all his fault, and he doesn't step up to his promise to Minho, making a guy who was just suicidal feel alone once more; why is WK such a thot that acts in the moment and doesn't think the consequences of what he says. He most definitely will regret it.

Minho: I love you now

WK: get out of my house, bye

#anime manga rambles #sadistic beauty bl sidestory #sadistic beauty

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peachthatdrinkslemonade · 2 years

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Tag 10 people you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @talesfrom-theupsidedown

Relationship Status: Single

Preferred Name: On here, Peach or Momo both work 😊

Favorite Color: Red. Love all shades. I have yet to see a shade of red I do not like.

Favorite Food: Why would you do this to me? Ummm.... Right now probably lasagna

Song(s) Stuck in Your Head (I suffer from playlist shuffle brain😃🔫): (mood) There's a Place - All-American Rejects, Move Along - All-American Rejects, Gives You Hell - All American Rejects, Scream - Tokio Hotel, Forgotten Children/Vergessene Kinder - Tokio Hotel (both versions alternate while the other is playing), Run, Run, Run - Tokio Hotel, Seal Lullaby - Eric Whitacre, I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab For Cutie (there's a lot more I listen to music a lot for a reason I will literally just keep replaying the same song in my head for over 3 hours or will switch in the middle of a verse non stop otherwise)

Time: as i am typing 8:43. This will be different by the time I post

Dream Trip: Uuuhhhhh.... Somewhere in Europe where I get to look at cool architecture

Last Book You Read: The last book I finished reading was Assassin's Blade by Sarah J. Maas, the last book I read a chapter from was Queen of Shadows by Sarah J. Maas (I'm reading the Throne of Glass series rn if you're curious what those books are from)

Last Book You Enjoyed Reading: I did in fact enjoy Assassin's Blade, but I think I liked Heir of Fire (also Sarah J. Maas) a little more

Last Book You Hated Reading: Dune: Messiah by Frank Herbert (not enough happening in it for me)

Favorite Thing to Cook/Bake: My favorite thing to bake is my family's secret carrot cake recipe. I made it one time and committed it to memory. The next night I got black out drunk for the first time in my life and when I was alone with my dad I was able to repeat it back to him perfect just to prove he didn't need to write it down for me. She staying with me forever

Favorite Craft to Do On Your Free Time: I have been teaching myself to crochet in my free time the last few years, so probably that. I have also been teaching myself how to knit and like doing that significantly less, but I enjoy the look a lot more

Most Niche Dislike: I hate how velvet feels. It's all aweful. I'm pretty sure it's because I had two dresses that had velvet on them and they both ended up with something on it that my skin had a reaction to so I now associate that feeling with bad skin vibes

Opinions on Circus(es): Never been to one but I kind of want to go to see all the acts (I've seen circus acts done in other places that aren't circuses and I kind of just want them all together in one place)

Do You Have a Sense of Direction: Depends! Am I outside? Is the sun up? Have I been in the area while the sun is up? Do I know the time of day? I know relatively where I am then. The second I walk into a building after that it's all gone. Just, bye! Also, I don't do street names I do land marks so....

***Tagging (under no obligation) : @lizerd70 @2isted-chocol8 @of-chaos-and-flame @melodyeverwood @stardancerluv @jennifercheckmeout @sad-but-rad-universe @meteor-anarchy @finn-shitposts @voilet-plumpkin (also anyone who sees this and wants to do it too!!)

#i cant believe i actually remembered to do one of these #tag game #ignore if you want

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servin-up-surveys · 1 year

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survey #078

What was the name of the first friend you ever made? Brianna. What is your dream honeymoon destination? Alaska. I want to see the Northern Lights with my partner. How many followers do you have on Instagram? Uh I just checked and actually both my main photography one and roadkill photos one have 86. What TV show will you always recommend anyone should watch? Extraordinary Attorney Woo, absolutely. That show touches me SO deeply; I'm very very sympathetic to those that suffer with autism (hell, *I* might), and I think it does a good job at expressing how important it is to treat everyone equally and open your mind to how others just exist differently but also just the same as everyone else. I hope that makes sense. It's just a very emotional and well-written show that highlights beauty in the individual. If you won one million dollars and HAD to spend it, what would you spend it on? So it sounds like charity isn't an option? In that case, I'd get a new place for Mom and me, a new car, figure out what debt I'm in to handle that... those are the important ones I can think of. I'd have to think further and more carefully on the less-important things and I don't feel like doing that rn for a hypothetical.

How many people have seen you completely naked in the last five years? Ummmm... I honestly want to say just one, my mom. Have you ever dated/been “involved” with someone of another race? If so, did your parents know? If not, would you ever? I dated Juan for literally a day, and he's Hispanic. Mom knew, but I don't think Dad did. He probably thought SOMETHING was going on though, because we used to hang out kinda regularly and pretty much since we met he was very open about liking me. Do you watch Criminal Minds? No. What’s the most depressing movie you’ve ever seen? The Boy in the Striped Pajamas tears my fucking heart open. I only ever watched it in school a few times, and each time I very easily cried at the end. Which TV shows do you own on DVD? I own seasons 1-4 of Meerkat Manor. I do plan on getting the fifth whenever it's released like that. Who is the first person who broke your heart? My dad, honestly. Do you know anyone who has fought in a war? Girt's dad was in Desert Storm, I know. I think my Mom's... grandpa was also in a war? Someone on her side has been. Who is the last person you cut out of your life? Mini, again. She shared transphobic shit (among other stuff...) on Insta and I was like nope, bye, for good this fuckin time. I can't stay in contact with her and pretend I'm standing for the rights so I firmly believe in. Name ONE good memory about your last ex? There was one night the first time I visited her where we just chilled in the room I was staying in listening to music and talking about the most random and pointless shit. I felt really bonded with her that night. Have you ever been shot? No, thankfully. Let's keep it that way, please. What has damaged you? More than anything, just poor mental health, but also broken promises, betrayal, losing people (I handle loss SO fucking poorly), growing up with parents that never stopped fighting, witnessing alcoholism, witnessing my sister be abused, and I guess in some ways you really could say love. Loving too hard is a real fucking thing. What kind of trees do you have in your yard? I actually don't know what they are. What do you feel guilty about? Jesus Christ... I'm tempted to skip this because I feel guilt over so much. How I treated Jason, how I talked to my dad before we made up, not having a job nor going to school, not exercising like I should, neglecting/not further exploring my talents, never being able to remember shit, not having stronger relationships with my siblings, not being as proactive with helping around the house, neglecting my physical health, and honestly for just... not being a friend to myself, at all. I want to stop here, this is upsetting me. Do you have commitment issues? That's something I've never struggled with. What is the coolest thing you can do? Uhhhh... idk. When did you last feel overwhelmed? I felt overwhelmed in the BEST fuckin way possible a couple days back; the Silent Hill franchise has been no less than totally revived with like, an hour-long (I think longer?) announcement of MULTIPLE upcoming game installments and a new movie! The first thing to be shared was the trailer for the FUCKING REMAKE of Silent Hill 2, my favorite game in the entire fucking universe, and I literally cried and shook for SO LONG, like I WANTED to faint. I am ECSTATIC and so fucking hyped to see how everything develops!! Do you have anything from past relationships? Yeah. Who was your most serious relationship? Jason, but Girt is getting pretty damn close as far as seriousness goes. I'm older and more matured now and this relationship is DEFINITELY healthier. When was the last time you cried? At the Silent Hill 2 trailer I mentioned a couple questions ago. My excitement is just so, so fucking beyond words. It actually LOOKS GOOD, which is super encouraging because a very large portion of the fanbase actually hasn't wanted a remake. I was on the fence about it, but I am SO into it now having seen the preview!! Do you ever feel left out? When? Yeah, I guess... I sometimes get jealous of Ashley and Nicole's relationship, thinking about it. They're pretty close and definitely talk with each other more and meanwhile I'm just over here in the corner uncomfortably twiddling my thumbs because I don't know how to engage with them. How useful do you feel to others? I feel COMPLETELY useless. Is there a loaded gun in your house? Do you have access to it? No, that wouldn't be legal with my mental health and history. I don't even WANT access to one. [TW: SELF-HARM] Have you ever inflicted pain on yourself? How? Yes, because I used to cut myself, usually with weird things like paperclips and thumbtacks. I never wanted to bleed out, just distract from the emotional pain. I also remember an occasion where I was just banging my fist against my bed's headboard to focus again on physical discomfort versus what I had going on mentally... Jason had to literally grab and hold me to make me stop. Do you like gore? Usually, anyway. Do you write poetry? Are you any good? Occasionally, and I guess I'm okay... I've actually been teetering on the brink of trying to write two poems and it's kinda a goal of mine to maybe publish a poetry book or something. Do you think dragonflies are cool? I do. What’s a game that you play often? I play some World of Warcraft pretty much daily. Do you like fudge? I fucking LOVE fudge, like that's one of my favorite treats in the world. Best movie soundtrack ever: I honestly feel like I gotta go with either Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron or Tarzan. Phil Collins is just a fucking legend. What was your favorite Disney movie as a kid? It was The Lion King and still is. I also very thoroughly enjoy the sequel and did as a kid as well. When’s the last time you were at a playground? A few years back when I was taking photographs for someone's family. Have you ever been to an apple orchard? No, but I would absolutely love to. Were there any cartoons your parents didn’t let you watch as a kid? Ummmm I don't know about not LETTING us, but I do know my mom really didn't like Cow and Chicken as well as Catdog. The former I didn't like/didn't watch anyway, but damn did I love Catdog. Do you need to clean your room? Sigh, yes. My mom dusted for me one day so a lot of plushies and knick-knacks had to be moved around and I just... haven't put them back. I'm going to before Girt's family comes here next weekend, though. I need to at least look like I have my shit together. I am heavily considering redecorating my room to something more minimalistic so it's easier for me to keep up with keeping it tidy and not a dusty disaster... No one ever really changes. They just get better at hiding their flaws. True or false? That is absolutely false. Do you drink milk? I do, but I wish I could change to something non-dairy... because the dairy industry is appalling. I am just so motherfucking picky. Could you handle motherhood? No. I can almost GUARANFUCKINGTEE I would end up killing myself or surrendering the kid because I just couldn't handle it, and that would haunt me to the end of my days. Would you rather have a bulldog puppy or a husky puppy? I don't want another dog period, but I think I would have to go with a husky; I don't support the breeding of animals that can't fucking breathe, so although I think bulldogs are ADORABLE, I couldn't stomach buying one. I guess however if it was purely an adoption/rescue case, I would definitely pick the bulldog. Huskies are SO fucking stunning, but I know I'd be bad at keeping up with grooming them as much as they require. Pancakes, or waffles? Eh, I go back and forth. Both are great. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Uh, yeah? Who doesn't? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? They really are, actually. I just wouldn't enjoy them/literally couldn't now because of all the walking... but they offer some pretty cool and unique stuff. I had the BEST fudge one time when Colleen, her husband, and I all went on a random daytrip to the beach. When it rains does it leave a lake in your front yard? No, but holy shit that was the story of my childhood home. The whole area handled rain very, VERY badly, like the ditches 'round that area pretty much constantly have water and there's even this one spot where if there's a sudden downpour? One road is absolutely horribly flooded. It's a joke there. What color is your music device? Hot pink. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No? I always thought it was really nice for someone to even WANT my signature. Where is one place that you’d never be caught dead in? Strip club, to name one. Apple Jacks; yay or nay? Holy shit, I forgot about those, but big yay. They're great. What is the last cartoon that you have watched? Uhhhh... it woulda been something at Ashley's place yesterday with the kids. I feel like it was Spidey and His Amazing Friends (something like that), though I wasn't paying much attention to it. Have you ever been to a nursing home? I know I have at least once, to see the woman my mom used to take care of literally the day before she died... It was one of the most fucking heartbreaking things I've ever seen. I literally started crying in the room while trying so hard to hide it from Katherine. She was basically a corpse already. I literally cannot put it into words, what I felt looking at someone who was alive but also so, SO dead, and I barely even knew this woman... Who do you know that watches the most sports? Uh, either my dad or sister's husband, probably? Do/did you get into trouble a lot at school? Not at all, really; I was super well-behaved. I only ever got into trouble for having too many morning tardies, which were always my fault because I never wanted to get outta bed... Do you usually initiate hugs? Yes actually, I love hugs. Do you say “I love you” to your best friends? I am VERY much for telling your friends that; I sure do. If you could meet one famous person, who would it be? Markiplier. Do you hate it when people look over your shoulder? YES YES YES YES YES. Even if I have nothing to hide, I DO NOT like people doing this. Like I will literally stop what I'm doing. Who was the last person you offended? Probably Mom... she woke me up mid-nightmare this morning and I just totally screamed "WHAT?!" at her while still asleep. I felt like total fucking shit. Like I was THANKFUL she woke me up, because the nightmare involved getting in a fight with Jason, and I DO NOT want to know where it would've gone. I apologized to her and she said she understood that it "wasn't me," but still. I feel like shit. What is one thing you never want to lose? My pursuit to be artistic is one. Do you have a Wii? Yeah. Did you honestly listen to Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really listen to him before or after he died. I mean he has some songs that are nice, but his music isn't something I chase. Do you ever have so much energy that it’s annoying? ... No? I honestly wish????? I have practically no energy. What is the most significant health issue you have been dealing with lately? I mean, probably my weight. I'm really struggling to get the protein I need to get these shots to do their job with burning the bad stuff, so my weight isn't moving much. I HAVE lost water weight though/have pretty much succeeded in incorporating a MUCH healthier amount of water in my life, but I'm still just frustrated. It's like nothing I do works. What was the name of the first guy/girl you dated? Aaron. What is something you love that you can’t get where you live? Uh, I'm real uncertain here; the only thing I can think of immediately is Hot Topic, which is a minimum hour drive to reach one. What quotes from TV or film do you use regularly (if any)? I don't think any, really. What are weird sites you can’t stop going on? Uh, none that are "weird," I think. What was your worst “Oh shit! Why did I say/do that?!” with a kid? I think just cursing on accident. I put sincere effort into not doing it around kiddos because they generally just don't understand when "bad" words just aren't appropriate in many social situations. What’s your biggest “I need to get a life” moment to date? Oh, fucking easy. Jason literally told me the most dedicated and ambitious he ever saw me was during my ~three-day intense camping of one of the rarest mounts in WoW, called the Time-Lost Proto-drake. I scheduled my sleeping/waking schedule to sync the minimum spawn times of it and the rare it shares a spawn chance with. It was extremely difficult to do but I sure did get that mount two days after my birthday. Him saying that still haunts me to this day, since I STILL kinda take his word as pure fact, and hearing him think I never tried harder for something than I did in a stupid game is fucking excruciating and I'm going to stop talking about it now. What stories are an absolute must read for your children/possible future children? IF I had kids, um... to be totally honest I've forgotten the plots of most children's books, but I remember I really liked Chrysanthemum and its message of meeting uniqueness with acceptance and even adoration. I'd have to ask Mom what some of her favorites were to read to me and my sisters and brother, and which ones had the most important messages. What are some of your favorite monologues? My #1 is FUCKING EASY: the passionate rant of what the world becomes by the villain to the player of Amnesia: The Machine For Pigs leading up to the final scene. I get absolutely covered in goosebumps every. Single. Time. I sometimes even shiver. It is BEAUTIFULLY written and just heartbreaking and haunting in how true it is. Do you actually think it’s gross to talk about body functions? Usually no, especially if they're very normal, pretty much everyday things. HOWEVER, I do believe sometimes it's just better to not share, like over food or if you're around queasy people, etc. Would you rather sleep alone or next to your SO? Next to him, though at the same time I worry severely that I'm going to have a nightmare with him there and lash out in my sleep... When you go out to breakfast, what do you order? If we're talking sit-down restaurants, I tend to favor pancakes or waffles with sausage (or sometimes bacon) and scrambled eggs. Have you ever worked at the same place as your best friend? No. Is there anything hanging on your bathroom walls? No. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever seen in person? So I wasn't sure which was bigger, elephant or orca, and a quick Google search isn't giving me a super clear answer, but it does say orcas are generally heavier, so I'd say an orca because I went to a Shamu show as a kid at SeaWorld... which I would never, EVER set a single toe into ever again. Would you give mouth to mouth to your dog to save its life? Absolutely. What’s the best burger EVER? Gotta be real man, Wendy's Baconator is fucking perfection. Did you ever show up late for an important event? I don't THINK so.

#survey #surveys #random questions #random surveys

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n3onguts · 3 years

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5 times he said i love you. | kim taehyung

summary — different versions of ‘i love you’ told throughout the course of a relationship.

pairing — kim taehyung x f!reader

genre&tags — slice of life au, fluff, angst out of nowhere???, a terrifying lack of plot and direction (i cannot stress enough how unedited this story is. at some point, it got away from me and i just needed to be rid of it), taehyung making terrible choices while drunk, healthy-eating propaganda, pettiness and pride being the pitfall of every relationship, yk how it is

warning(s) — mentions of alcohol consumption and intercourse (but it's chill, they're both adults)

w.c. — bordering on 5k but pretty easy to digest

a/n — yes i have been working on my drafts (!!!), don't really wanna think abt them tho bc my laptop broke like two days ago, right when school's about to start so i'm not doing v good rn :/ anyways i've had this story in my head for a while ever since i read this one fic that used this same format (if i can find it i'll be sure to link the author as my inspo!) so i just wanted to get it out of my system. i'm not rlly a hardcore fan of bts (gotta admit tho... yoongi's passion for making music is so mmmmm), but when i started writing this i used taehyung's name as a filler for the guy character and it kinda just stuck. i hope u still enjoy, and as always, if u have any feedback, i'd love to hear it! :)

i. WHEN HE WHISPERED IT INTO THE NIGHT

Taehyung loves your apartment.

He loves it in the morning. Waking up to the sound of sizzling, of wood against metal, lightly clanging in your kitchen as you whipped up breakfast-for-two. Exiting the comfort of your bedroom to find early solace in the domesticity of the sight before him — you, with your sleep-ridden hair and bare legs peeking out from under an oversized tee. Messy and mussed but still looking oh-so-fucking-angelic, crooning along to your favorite Etta James record playing in the background as the rising sun bathes the scene with its glow. Solid hands wrap around your waist from behind as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. Syrupy kisses come in place of a greeting and contented sighs seep out when you break apart: all he could ever want, and more.

He loves it in the afternoon. Both of you on your lumpy couch in the living room; your head in his lap, his hands in your hair. Everything in its place the way it should be. Happiness is home-grown and laughter permeates the air perpetually. You tap-tap-tap away at your laptop, which rests on your chest. He tries to pay attention to whatever’s on TV, but his eyes always end up on you.

He loves it in the nighttime. Dancing together in front of the bathroom mirror before bed, toothbrush still in mouth. Lights off, lamps on, the safe warmth of your thick comforter enveloping you two. Legs intertwined as your dainty fingers trace his features, like you’re trying to commit a map of him to memory. Minty lips follow to sleepily graze against the trail you’ve left — starting at the top of his forehead, along his cheek, down the bridge of his nose, and, finally, after what feels like eons and then some, pressing onto his patient mouth. The evening does something to you both: honest words are exchanged with less resistance. Admissions of pleasure and confessions of pain spill out after dark, until you both succumb to the exhaustion, bodies interlaced like puzzle pieces.

Taehyung loves your apartment, he really does. He’s told you that numerous times. It’s a lot easier to say than what he actually wants to, but, well, those three goddamn words? They relentlessly attempt to claw out of his throat.

So he waits.

In the dim moonlight, the white noise of the city below acting as the soundtrack to your romance, he waits.

He waits, and when he’s certain you’re fast-asleep — chest gently rising and falling at a measured rate, cheek taking ownership of his chest — Taehyung surrenders to the feeling.

Glancing at you through drowsy eyes, he mouths it in the dark, rapid yet cautious, like a secret and a promise meant only for the night.

I love you.

ii. WHEN HE WAS DRUNK

Friday night — he found himself stuck at some bar, God knows where, struggling to stay upright.

Just one shot, Taehyung's sober self had stupidly claimed. One shot, and I’m done. But once his surroundings had started to go out of focus, and all he could make out were the cheers of his equally-idiotic friends, egging him on, well, how could he not succumb to the cloying pull of his own recklessness?

Alcohol was a shitty lover; it was bittersweet moments interspersed with short-term euphoria and long-term regrets. Side effects almost always included the following: (1) the ill-advised ballooning of his usually-muted ego, (2) a sudden and asinine surge of confidence, and, finally, (3), the mistaken belief that his present actions would have no future consequences, as though tomorrow would never come.

But tomorrow always did, and a half-dead, hungover version of him was always left to fix whatever mess he had made the night before.

Tonight, it seemed that drunk-dialing you was on top of his to-do list of mistakes to make. Clumsily, phone in hand, Taehyung summons your contact number, a familiar feeling of home washing over him once he spots your name at the top of his screen through heavy-lidded eyes.

It’s barely midnight, but half of him expects you’re already passed out, too glued to your bed from exhaustion to pick up. The other half — soft, daring, wishful — hopes that you aren’t.

It takes 3 rings before he hears your sleep-ridden voice hum through his line, “Hey. What’s up?”

For a moment, sobered by a split-second semblance of level-headedness, he hesitates.

“Hello? You there?” You patiently wait for a response, but worry laces your tone. Time to buck up and get this shit over with, he realizes.

Taehyung’s voice is timid, gentle, a juxtaposition to his booming surroundings, which are awash in a red glow and brimming with a sea of sweaty, intoxicated bodies. “Did I wake you?”

“Not really.” He hears you shift in bed, most likely sitting up to focus on the conversation. “Where are you?”

His response comes out slurred and ambiguous. “Um. Out?”

“Ah… you’re drunk.” He mentally curses himself for being so easy to read; you must be so annoyed, having your sleep disrupted by some boozed jackass. Instead, you laugh knowingly, and a wave of calm rolls over him. You don’t hate him, thank God.

Buzzing with a newfound self-assurance, the words start slipping out with much more ease. “Well, just a little.” You laugh again, and he’s grinning now, something wide and goofy and uninhibited.

“That sounds fun,” You murmur. “As long as you’re okay and you’re alive.”

“No—” He sighs dramatically. “I’m in agony. I wish you were here.”

“Oh, really? And why is that?” He can practically envision you as you say this: eyebrow quirked and delicate lips pulling into a faint smirk.

“I miss you less when you’re next to me.”

“O-kay, stupid. You know, you’re cute—” Taehyung pumps his fist in the air in celebration. I’m cute! He rejoices. “But you’re drunk.”

“What?!” He exclaims, and he hears you giggle at his sudden outcry.

Eyelids fluttering at the melodic noise, he imagines you’re seated at the foot of your bed, hugging your knees. Your ear is warm from the phone pressed against it and your toes are curling along your mattress. There’s a glint in your eyes as you speak to him, probably relishing in his current state of ill-advised inebriation. He’s making a fool of himself, he understands that much, but he doesn’t care — he’d run through the streets naked, if you willed it.

“You are, though.”

“I am, yes.” He concedes, nodding ruefully.

Another giggle. God, he’d never get tired of that. “Wonderful. So, do you have any more nice things to say to me while you’re drunk?”

You weren’t taking him seriously — couldn’t, seemingly. You were teasing him, he was sure, but he didn’t want that.

“I’d still miss you if I was sober, you know. Probably more so. The alcohol helps tamp it down a bit.”

“Sure.”

“I kind of wish we were attached by the hip — or, like, I had a leash that I could use to drag you around with me.”

“Oooh… Kinky.” Now it’s his turn to laugh.

“No, hey—”

“Hey.” You interject, voice a bare whisper.

“I…” Taehyung massages his temples out of frustration. He wishes you would just listen. His restlessness has two fingers down his throat, pushing the words out before he’s even ready. “Look, it really doesn’t fucking matter whether I’m at some bar or at your place: I want you next to me always. You haunt me everywhere I go, and I’m tired of trying to escape it. Because, well, um, you know— Shit. I love you, okay? Sober or not. Dead or alive. Stupid or whatever the opposite of stupid is.” He pauses to take a breath. “Me. I’m the opposite of stupid.”

Silence consumes your end of the line, and it implores — no, demands him to fill it. The world around him seems to slow as he rambles on, “That’s why I called you. I wanted to tell you that I love you.” Hope overcomes him. “Fuck, man, do I love you! And I know you think it’s the alcohol talking or whatever — which, sure, yes, Jose Cuervo did help push the words out — but I’ll still wake up tomorrow morning and you will still be my first thought, just the way you are every single fucking day.”

A tense quiet lingers, terrorizing him. Finally, after what feels like a millennium in his drunken stupor: “Smart?”

Your voice is tender, lighthearted, yet simultaneously consoling — he could sense a masked apprehension that you were deliberately trying to keep hidden.

“What?” He eventually stutters out.

“The opposite of stupid is smart.”

Oh. “Yeah. Um. That’s me.”

“Uh…” You begin and he absolutely despises how patronizing you sound. “Let’s just forget about this, okay? I get it: you think you love me and that’s really sweet, but…”

As soothing as your voice attempts to be, it’s a stab in his gut as he realizes that you don’t believe him — or maybe don’t want to.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Um, so, I’m a bit tired, I think I’m gonna go back to bed.”

A monotonous ‘sure’ leaves him reflexively. There’s a numbness that takes root inside of him as he stares straight ahead.

“Take care of yourself, please. Text me tomorrow morning so I know you’re okay, alright?” You hang on for a few more seconds, expecting a half-hearted acknowledgement from him, but you get nothing in return.

Taehyung hears a final, careful ‘bye’ muttered from your end before the line cuts. He lowers his phone down from his ear, resting it on the counter next to him. For some reason, it feels oddly heavy now. Stuck in a daze, he stares at the device like it’s an alien—

What the fuck had he just done?

iii. WHEN HE WAS SURE

“Tae, why would we ever need this much Jjajangmyeon?” You scold as he haphazardly scoops an entire row of instant noodles from the shelf into your shopping cart.

He shrugs, “It’s easy to make — you know I’m shit at cooking. Plus, it’s quick. And filling.”

You give him a withering look. “And full of sodium! Do you want a UTI? I swear to God, if you get sick, I’m not taking care of you.

“You say that but last time I did, you took a 3-day leave from work and rubbed my supposedly-smelly feet until I fell asleep.”

Grunting in response, you huff and he hears you mumble something along the lines of, “But they are smelly.”

You turn away from him to gingerly return the packets back into their place, ignoring his cries of protest when you leave only two behind — one for him and one for you. “Shut up. Why would it matter if you’re shit at cooking? You have me.”

At this, Taehyung smirks, leaning against the shelves like a quintessential rom-com lead. “I do?” He asks, voice dripping with innocence but eyes sparkling with mirth.

Grumbling, you wave a hand to dismiss him and he stumbles back dramatically, as though he’s been shot. You roll your eyes, “Will you behave? I feel like your mother.”

“Are we roleplaying right now?”

“We won’t be tonight if you keep being so annoying.”

“Okay— Sorry, sorry. My bad. Got the message. Behaving now.” He gestures to show that he’s zipping his lips.

He pulls out his phone to check your grocery list for what you two need next, eyes squinting to read the screen. Without missing a beat, you fish in your bag for his glasses and hand it to him. Taehyung pauses to look at the specs in your hand then back at you, before nodding gratefully and accepting them.

“It says we need bread next.” He announces, and you walk ahead to find the aisle containing bread. He maneuvers the cart to follow the route you leave behind as you check the aisle markers, zig-zagging along the pathway like a little pinball machine.

“Here!” You call out. Up ahead, you disappear into one of the aisles, and moments later, he enters said aisle to spot you trying (and subsequently failing) to reach the bread you want on the top shelf. You stop tiptoeing when you see him rush over.

He grabs the nearest loaf, one that’s eye-level to you, and waves it in front of your face, “Why not this one?”

You send him another withering look. “That’s white bread, Tae.”

“And so?”

“It’s super processed.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m young.”

“And you’ll die young if you eat garbage. Will you just get the whole-grain bread I was reaching for?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so concerned about these things — I’m an active guy, I’ll be okay.”

“Well, I’m sorry I care about your health.”

He wants to laugh at the scene before him — you, with your arms crossed and your eyebrows hardening like a petulant child — but he knows that would only irk you even more.

“No— Hey— C’mon.” Taehyung tries to pull you into a hug, but you swerve and swat away his attempts to close the gap between you two. “I’m glad you do. I’m very grateful, actually.”

Your pursed lips melt into a soft pout. “You just— You don’t know what a demon white bread is! I read an article about it the other day, and it’s made of refined grains, Tae! Refined grains.” You explain hysterically, hands buzzing around with the air of someone who's just divulged an incredibly juicy secret. “They’re chock-full of sugar and preservatives! And these preservatives have chemical names that no one ever questions because they can’t understand it, so they just accept it! You can eat a whole loaf in one sitting, Tae. I don’t want you to contract diabetes or something worse.”

When you finish your tirade, you go quiet, and when he looks into your eyes, dark pools he wouldn’t mind drowning in, he can’t tell whether he wants to laugh at your absurd worry over him or cry at your sincerity.

Instead, he smiles. It’s unrestrained, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “That’s a bit of a far reach.”

In one swift movement, Taehyung grabs the loaf you were eyeing earlier and hands it over nonchalantly. “But I do love you. So I’ll try my best not to.”

Perhaps it’s because he’s just said he loves you for the first time — terrifyingly sober, under the harsh fluorescent lights of your local supermarket, after you’ve lectured him about his health and as he casually tries to give you bread — that you stare at him for longer than he’d like, eyes peering like he’s become transparent. But he stands his ground.

He shrugs, tossing the loaf into the metal cart behind you. He thought your inability to respond might bother him, but, surprisingly, it doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t think he minds much. Taehyung always assumed loving someone with certainty would be like an immediate thing, a singular, specific moment he’d have to seize with confidence or it would pass, leaving him wrecked with nerves and regret. But, as it turns out, certainty could wash over him during the most mundane of instances and love would slide out easily into his words, as though it always belonged. Maybe it had.

“You love me?” You say, and when you do, it almost sounds like a wish. One he’d go to Hell and back to grant.

He looks at you like you’ve just told him that the sky is blue or the Earth is round. “Yeah. Of course, weird-o. Was I not clear enough with my profession of love earlier?

You shake your head as you laugh. “No, you were.”

Taehyung nods, satisfied, moving past you to push the cart in search of the next item on your grocery list. But before he can, he feels a pair of small hands clutch his arm and a face nuzzle into the wide expanse of his back.

“I love you too.” You muffle, voice humming warm air against his sweater. “Which is why I’ll let you get a pack of Oreos.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“But just one.”

iv. WHEN HE WAS SORRY

Stumbling inside your apartment, you rush out of your boots and head straight for your bedroom, locking the door. A few footsteps behind you, Taehyung follows, disgruntled by your brisk pace.

“Y/N!” You can hear him from inside your room, where you’re sat on the bed, staring into space as you try to process what had just ensued during the car ride home from Jin's dinner party.

“Your ‘friend’, huh?” You're staring stonily ahead, eyes carefully fixated onto the cement floor of the car park.

He’s still settling into his seat, shuffling on his seatbelt, too busy to really comprehend the challenge you’ve just initiated. “What?”

“When Jisoo asked you to introduce us, you said, and I quote, ‘Oh, this is my friend, Y/N.’ You called me your friend.” Gone is the acidity that laced your tone mere moments ago, replaced by an almost mechanical voice, something carefully constructed to mask feeling.

Taehyung stops what he’s doing to look up, finally taking notice of your cold demeanor. He frowns, “But you are my friend.”

“So that’s all I am to you? Just your friend?” You whip your head to face him now, fully, arms crossed. You’re devoid of emotion as you await an answer from him. He, on the other hand, looks utterly confused.

“What— No, of course not—”

“No, you were right. We’re friends. We are.” You cut him off. “Just friends. You’re correct.”

“I didn’t mean anything by—”

“I know. Which is why it’s no biggie.” You shrug, switching from robotic to indifferent. He can’t decide which is worse. “Let’s go home. I’m tired.”

You turn away, finished with the conversation, but he isn’t.

“I don’t understand— You were in such a good mood at dinner. What the fuck is happening?”

Looking at him again, you smile now, a sedative Taehyung won't fall for. “Nothing. Nothing’s happening. Can you start the car now? It’s freezing.”

Frustrated, he shuts up and does as he’s told, punching the keys into the ignition. You two sit in aggressive silence as he exits the car park.

The city roads are relatively bare, save for a few trucks driving along the highway. Passing street lamps illuminate your face in intervals, and every so often he looks over to check on you. When the car reaches a stop light at an intersection, he speaks up.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. Honest. I didn’t.” His phrasing is wary, but heartfelt. So much so you almost want to put the matter to rest.

But pride is the only thing you’ve ever known — your child, a monster you’ve nursed back to health when wounded and fed when starved. You’ll be damned if you back down now.

“Right. It’s okay. We’re fine. I swear.” It’s terrifying how easily these lies breeze out of your mouth, without so much as a pause.

“I mean— We never had a discussion about our label— I just assumed—”

“I get it. No harm, no foul. We’re friends.”

“It was just automatic in my head, and I don’t know why. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

At this, you let out a cruel laugh. “Jesus, Tae, let’s not jump to conclusions here. Don’t assume I even care enough about you to get hurt by something as stupid as that.”

His face contorts as though he’s been bitten. “I understand that you’re mad, but you don’t have to be so unnecessarily mean.”

“I’m not being mean. I said I get it, right? You think our situation is too difficult to explain and blah, blah, blah. Now, can you focus on the road?”

When the traffic light turns to green, he steps on the gas pedal. Any and all discussion is once more extinguished, up until you reach the warm basement parking lot of your apartment building.

You’re gathering your things, about to head out of the car door, when you feel his hand pull at yours.

“I really had no ill intent when I said that. You’ve just always been my friend, so I had no other word for what we are now.”

You twist your head to see him, eyebags accentuated in the shadows, pleading with you to understand. You grip him tightly back, a sickeningly sweet smile etched onto your lips, “Like I said, we don’t have to discuss this anymore. We are friends, Tae, you were right.”

“But—”

“We’re friends— I’m your friend! The friend whose bed you spend more nights in than your own. The friend who knows that you brush your teeth in a specific order because that’s how your grandma taught you when you were nine— Or that your favourite compliment is when people tell you that you look like your dad because he’s your idol. I’m that friend! The friend who takes off from work the minute she hears you’re sick, who learns how to make Japchae exactly how your mom did. The friend who’s held you when you’ve cried, cleaned up your sick when you’ve gotten drunk, and swallowed your goddamned cum! The friend you fucking said ‘I love you’ to! Just fucking friends!”

Your furious shouts echo throughout the empty space, bouncing from wall to wall so that even when you've finished your rant, eyes frenzied and hands done flying, Taehyung can still hear your words create a cavern of guilt in his chest.

Fast-forward back to the present moment: there's a knot in your heart as you get ready for bed. Looking at your reflection in the mirror as you brush your teeth, you wonder, is loving someone supposed to be this hard?

“Y/N, please. I’m sorry. Open up.”

You gargle the last of the water in your cup and spit, wiping your mouth and smoothing down your pajamas as you head for the door. Opening it up, you assume a pleasant facade.

“What’s up? Sorry for the wait, I was changing.”

If your nonchalance deters him, he doesn’t show it. “I’m sorry. I realized I never said that. I’m sorry I called you my friend— I wish I hadn’t.”

“Tae, I told you, it’s not a big deal, we’re goo—”

“No, we’re not.” He runs a tired hand through his hair. “If you had introduced me as your friend, I’d feel fucking terrible. I’d feel so put out.”

You stay quiet, and you don’t want to, but you can feel yourself cracking.

“Friends don’t say I love you like that. And I love you like that. I’m sorry.”

You let a sigh escape. Your mom once told you that you housed a terrible anger, one you’d hold onto no matter how exhaustive it could be. But when he looks at you like that — disarmingly earnest in his sorrow, like wounding you wounds him — you want to raise a white flag in surrender, want to promise him you’ll do everything in your power to douse your pride.

You rest your forehead onto his chest and you hear him exhale in relief. He envelopes his arms around you (a cocoon you think you never want to leave), burying his nose into your hair.

“I should’ve just called you what you are: my girlfriend.” Taehyung whispers, a final reparation. “You’re my girlfriend, right?”

You pray no hesitance bleeds out into your words. “I’m your girlfriend.”

v. WHEN HE TRIED TO HOLD ON

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“I know.”

“And I’m your boyfriend.”

“I know.”

“So if you know, then why—” Taehyung exhales out of his nose. “You can’t treat people this way, Y/N.”

“I know.”

He’s standing across the room, arms crossed as he berates you. You really want him to leave, but if he did, you’re certain you’d run after him. You also want him to hold you, but if he did, you’re sure you’d only push him away. Feelings are stupid like that.

You poke craters into your lumpy mattress, chin resting in between your raised knees. Parts of you feel guilty, and perhaps that’s why you’re avoiding his gaze. But you’re also stubborn. I’m entitled to be selfish about my pain, you think.

“You’re supposed to— Why won’t you—” Lots of words swim in his chest. Taehyung wishes he could just reach inside and pull out the right ones, because all of the ones he uses only make you seem farther away. “You can’t keep doing this, Y/N.”

“Doing what?” You spit out, all poison. Why? You wonder. You’re clearly in the wrong here.

“This.” He gestures towards you like it’s obvious. “Holing up in your own little world, refusing to let anyone else in. And then when I come to you to try and understand, you make me feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

You open your mouth to say haughtily that he hasn’t, but you’re cut off.

“God, Y/N, you know— It’s actually fine that you’re like this. I don’t mind if you shut everyone out, don’t mind if you’re hard to reach, because I’ll put in that effort. You expect me to give and give and give, and you know what? That’s fine. It’s fine with me. I’ll say sorry first, I’ll concede, I’ll swallow my ego, I’ll let you win. I don’t mind.”

You fiddle with your bedsheets, eyes fixated on them so hard you think you might burn a hole through. You shouldn’t be, but for some reason, you’re irritated that he’s confronting you with all your wrongdoings and letting you get away with it.

“I don’t mind! Really, I don’t. I’ll let you do whatever. That’s how much I love you.” He runs a hand through his hair, exasperated. “All I ask for in return is that when I knock on the door of this little cage you’ve built for yourself, you let me squeeze in beside you.” His voice tapers off, “I’ll make myself small, won’t be a bother— Won’t even take up that much space, really. I just want to be in there with you. That’s all I want. That’s not much, is it?”

You want to tell him you’ve always lived like this — behind a smoke screen, inaccessible, like connection is a tap you can just turn on and off. Hurts less that way.

When you glance at him, guilt swells. Did you do this to him? Taehyung’s face looks worn; his eyes, desperate. A flicker of sadness pierces through your gut. You let him infiltrate your life, carve out a designated space for himself in your daily routine, and when he tells you he loves you, drunk, you refuse to believe it; he tells you again when he’s sober and you still can’t. You hate it when he introduces you as his friend, but get scared when he refers to you as his girlfriend.

You don’t know when it all turned to shit. Maybe it started during that week he was too busy to contact you, and you retaliated by ignoring him for the next two. Maybe it was because of that time he called you ‘difficult to be with’, and how no matter how many times he apologized, you couldn’t prevent that cancerous little seed of insecurity from burrowing itself in your mind. Or maybe it’s always been shit, and you’ve just been too spellbound to look at things with a clear head.

You try to absolve yourself of any blame, try to convince him as well as yourself: “I never asked you to do any of that. You did that to yourself.”

His hands implore you to see reason. “But that’s what a relationship is. You don’t ever have to ask— I’ll still be here anyway, still be waiting. That’s what loving someone is.”

There’s a phenomenon in psychology known as Stockholm Syndrome: it’s when a kidnapping victim forms an emotional bond with their captor. It seems irrational, unlikely. How could anyone fall for a person who’s hurt them? Defend them like none of that pain ever happened? But people do it everyday, you realize. People settle — they make compromises, they let themselves get stepped on, they excuse their chest aching as part of loving someone.

You let Taehyung’s words drift into the cold air of the room. The scene has slowed down. He’s sitting now, on the edge of the bed, and he looks like a husk of himself, as though getting all those words out has sucked him dry. You look outside of your window and notice that it’s drizzling.

“Did you bring a coat?”

“Huh?” He follows your line of sight. “No, I didn’t.”

“You can borrow my umbrella.”

From your position on the bed, you watch the rain fall, and from the corner of your eye, you see him tilt his head at you, like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” When you inquire, it comes out casual, without the cadence of the argument you just had.

“Of?”

“Being here. Waiting.” A pause. “Loving, I guess.”

Taehyung shakes his head firmly, obediently, like he’s confident his love will be enough for the both of you. “No. Never.”

The next time you speak, you can hear two hearts break. “I do.”

403 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 3 years

Text

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning.

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures.

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity?

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school.

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you.

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green.

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile.

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position.

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet.

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered.

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store!

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year.

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures.

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut.

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath.

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!”

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk.

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that.

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

“That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove.

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again.

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly.

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine.

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him.

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you.

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises.

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight.

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that.

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food.

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn.

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times.

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile.

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance.

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that.

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later.

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned.

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

“WHAT?!”

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies.

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today.

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited.

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders.

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it.

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now.

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator.

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way.

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine.

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck.

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing.

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in.

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours.

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control.

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars.

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips.

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan.

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too.

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him.

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

bonus!

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #bnha #bnha x reader

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