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lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

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Wilhemina Came To A Halt

Requested by anon: “Wilhemina confesses her love to reader on New Years but the fireworks are too loud”

A/N: thank you anon, I really loved writing this fic <3 Shoutout to @mckennamayfairgoode ; your writing has contaminated mine, there is SO much burning in this one x

Word count: ≃ 5 200

When Wilhemina pressed the doorbell, her heart was beating faster than it had ever beaten in her whole life. Her palms were embarrassingly clammy and left glistening shapes on the head of her cane.

A few weeks ago, this state would have terrified and revolted her. Now she accepted it as her new normal whenever she was about to see you.

The truth was, she – the door opened and there you were, flashing the most beautiful, warmest of smiles at her that annihilated all the thoughts in Wilhemina’s brain. She felt incredibly small and incredibly tall at the same time, as if she could melt at your feet and touch the stars.

A few weeks ago, Wilhemina would have been incredibly embarrassed to think that she was the kind of person who could smile giddily at another person for an incredibly long time, and later remember it as one of the best moments of her life. The knowledge was only slightly unpleasant now. It was made easier by the fact that you always, always did the same. Just stood there before her with a smile shedding light on her and your gaze lost deep in her gaze as her heart thrummed in her ears and her fingertips tingled.

Moments like this were too short and lasted forever. She cherished every one of them, collected them selfishly. For the truth was, she was head over heels in love with you.

The revelation had come to her all of a sudden, bursting free after months of denial. She had no idea what to do with it. She carried the love in her, a burden, stifling her and scratching her and painting the world in hundreds of bright colors. She saw beauty in things she had always despised or found ugly. Once, you had exclaimed at the elegance of a flying butterfly – she had fallen in love with butterflies.

Paradoxically, every other human being she found even more pathetic and idiotic than before, since she knew now that they didn’t have the brains to see how beautiful, how charming, and how kind you were. How could they set eyes on you and not lose their heart? There was only one explanation: they were morons. Hopeless idiots. How empty their life was, how empty hers had been. She despised every single one of them who did not fall at your feet or build a shrine to you.

From Monday to Friday she would wake up with an eagerness to see everything that you would touch, to hear everything that you would say to her at work. She would do her hair and apply her makeup with a beating heart that almost made her forget the ache in her back. Painting her face had acquired a new meaning: she no longer only did it to hide the loathsome but also to please, to enchant, in the hope that maybe you would find a glimpse of the beauty you sowed every day of your life. Surely if your fingertips touched her cheek, her skin would light up and shine, and even the world, taking one look at her, would blush.

The weekends had to pass as quickly as possible. And then they no longer had to, for you started inviting her to your place, on picnics, to the pictures. Talking to you was easy, listening was a blessing. She found that when she was with you, secrets slipped from her mouth and your hands never hurt, but cradled instead.

So here was the truth. Wilhemina was in love. Deeply, infuriatingly. With all the passion that had lay dormant within her. The tiny part of her that had always held on to hope had known that the day she would fall, there would be no restraint: she would love with all that she had. Her world shook and reshaped itself around you. It chose a new sun, and its light reached dark corners that had never been warmed up before. It threatened to thaw the ice in her head and in her chest. It was dripping already.

Now she treasured the beating of her heart. You had given her life value just by looking at her.

So it was with the weight of her love enlightening her from within that she took off her coat and handed it to you with a small smile. And the people in the room who turned to glance curiously at her as she entered, saw the glow and smiled to themselves, as one does who feels in the air the warmth of the upcoming spring.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you beamed at her; then added low in her ear: “I don’t know half of the people in this room, and I’m not sure the other half I like.”

A small laugh ran past Wilhemina’s teeth.

Your aunt had given you the keys to her flat for New Year’s Eve, since she was away for work and her windows offered one of the best views on the fireworks show. You had invited a few colleagues and friends from Kineros Robotics, who in their turn had invited a few friends of their own. Before you’d known it, you had lost control over the guest list. But you had shrugged good-naturedly, and merely said that this kind of thing happened all the time.

“Is that the man who tried to sell Jeff and Mutt sexy underwear for the robots?” Wilhemina asked, nodding at a man who sat sipping wine on the couch.

You pressed your mouth against Wilhemina’s shoulder to stifle a giggle. “Yes,” you breathed. “He came with a suitcase.” You straightened up, met her eyes with a flash of mischief in yours. “I’ll ask him to try them on on you.”

Wilhemina waved a hello at Mutt just so she could turn her face away from you as heat flooded her cheeks. She didn’t fool you, though. You bit down on a grin, and wrapped one hand around her wrist as you asked her, as casually as possible, if she wanted a drink.

Wilhemina’s eyes flicked down to your hand, as wide and shining as they always were when you touched her. As your fingertips stroked her skin, her cheeks turned that soft pink that was now and forever your favorite color.

“You are such a tease,” Mutt had once told you, a little reproachfully, after he had passed a very flushed Wilhemina hurrying out of your office. “The poor girl’s gonna die of yearning.”

“No she won’t,” you had answered, a fond, dreamy smile on your lips. “Part of loving her is waiting for her. I bet you she doesn’t even know what’s happening to her.”

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the floor. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier,” she said, eyes avoiding yours.

“That’s alright,” you smiled. “You’re here.” You tilted your head to the side, trying your best to fight your grin as you waited for her to collect herself and meet your gaze again. “Care for a drink?”

Wilhemina followed you across the room, finally taking in her surroundings. There were people sitting on the couch, people on the balcony, people speaking in groups everywhere. Some of them were wearing fancy, glittery clothes; some were drunk; others were dancing to the mellow indie music that tried to make itself heard over the chatter of voices. Cold air wafted through the French windows that led out onto the balcony. Wilhemina’s eyes fell curiously on a group sitting on the floor before she realized they were playing spin-the-bottle. A boy and a girl pulled away from each other with disgusted laughs.

“Shall we?” you teased, with a mock bow.

Wilhemina shook her head urgently, confusion and nervousness written all over her face. She hurried away from the group as fast as she could, and only stopped when she had reached the kitchen.

You fixed her and yourself a drink, then took her on a tour of the flat. The place was quite small, and very crowded, which gave you an excellent excuse to stand as close to Wilhemina as possible, and brush her arm or shoulder with yours whenever you could. Once, as your fingers grazed her hip, Wilhemina almost tripped over her own feet, and you had to cough to try and hide the smug giggle that escaped you.

Wilhemina delighted in the art reproductions you pointed at, the yellowing plants you bent over quizzically, the carpets your feet threaded, the battered old book you picked up from the floor. Even the handle of the bathroom door your fingers closed around looked to her like the most beautiful handle she had ever seen. She skimmed her fingers over it when you were not looking. Part of her was growling that she was being so very ridiculous, but the voice was very weak, drowning in the sea of joy and giddiness that was her mind.

You took her hand as you led her outside onto the balcony. Wilhemina shivered, so you draped a blanket over her shoulders, which she accepted, even though she hadn’t shivered from the cold.

“Look at the view,” you smiled dreamily, leaning against the railing. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Yes,” Wilhemina breathed, looking at you.

Perhaps, she thought, if she shivered again despite the blanket, you would press her close against you for warmth.

She chased the thought away. But it came back, singing and drunk.

She rubbed her arm exaggeratedly.

“Are you cold?” you asked, straightening up.

“A little,” she answered harshly.

“Then let’s go back inside. I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

“I’m fine”, she retorted, still as harshly.

You eyed her confusedly for a second or two.

Wilhemina rubbed her arm again.

A small, amused smile danced on your lips.

“Lucky for you,” you said, closing the space between her and you, “I’ve been told I’m a very good human heater.”

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pressed your front against her back, your chin coming to rest on her shoulder. Wilhemina was very, very stiff against you. But then, slowly, her body relaxed, as if melting in the warmth that oozed out of you and seeped through her clothes

You stayed like this, watching the city lights. Faint echoes of techno music drafted from somewhere on your right. You heard voices, a car honking. You couldn’t tell whether the quick heartbeat you could feel thrumming in your chest was Wilhemina’s or yours.

When you glanced up at her, her eyes were closed. She looked so different from the Wilhemina you had met so many months ago. There had been talks at work, that certainly Mutt and Jeff were paying her or fucking her to be kinder. Once, she had walked in on you pressing ice on your swollen cheek after you had thrown yourself at a big, tall man who had been making dirty jokes about her. Her fingers had skimmed your skin worriedly, big dark eyes scanning your face for any sign of pain. You had lied, invented an excuse as to why you had punched someone twice your size and weight. But God - no one would slander her on your watch.

You rubbed your chin on her shoulder, and stopped yourself at the last second from pressing a kiss on her cheek. Her skin was flushed from the cold and looked so incredibly soft.

“I’m gonna have to go back inside,” you grumbled. “I’m supposed to be the host.”

Wilhemina hummed her disapproval, eyes still closed.

“Will you manage without me?” you chuckled.

God, if you could just – nuzzle her cheek. If there could be no consequences. No risk of her stiffening, closing up, snapping at you, running away. If you could just – press a kiss.

You watched as her eyes fluttered open, and scanned the jeweled darkness in front of her.

“Of course,” she scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You gave her a gentle squeeze before you slowly peeled yourself off her. The process was almost physically painful, as if she were a part of you now, a new layer of skin. Your heart protested.

You weaved your way back inside to greet a few people who had just arrived. Wilhemina followed you and planted herself in a corner near the front door. She pretended to scan the small crowd, but her eyes regularly sought your face. Mutt and Jeff came up to her to share a few words and then disappeared into the kitchen. The rest of the guests, most of them Kineros Robotics employees, stayed away from her.

You crossed the living room carrying a bouquet of roses and smiled at her. A few minutes later, as you stepped back into the room talking on your phone, you looked her way and waved. Wilhemina moved to another corner when hers got invaded by two tipsy girls. Next time you appeared, you scanned the room questioningly, and your expression only relaxed when you found her again.

Wilhemina had never before in her life been someone else’s first priority. The idea that she was now, made her feel weird things she couldn’t quite comprehend. As if she were floating, or made of golden light as that of a summer evening. She could have burst into tears or bounced on her feet. Instead she returned your smile, and averted her eyes shyly.

Dear Lord, Wilhemina Venable didn’t get shy. What was wrong with her? She was being ridiculous and pathetic, and what’s worse, she was putting herself in danger. There were people in this room. People with eyes to see the soft pink of her cheeks and the nervous shaking of her hands. She should walk up to you, proud and threatening, tap her cane on the floor to scare you and then she should say something mean, something like “I love you” - no! she scolded herself, with a shiver of terror. Something mean! Something that would hurt! And she would say it loudly, she would make it boom and thunder for everyone in the room to hear and remember how strong and ruthless Wilhemina Venable was.

Here, you were waving at her again, with your face illuminated, and you were weaving your way to her through the crowd. Wilhemina tightened her grip on her cane and raised her chin and thought very hard of what she would say as you came closer and closer, you were here! right next to her, so very close she felt the air shaking and dancing in the joy your presence brought. A hand touching her wrist, warmth everywhere, she was melting into a puddle at your feet. You smirked knowingly at her and she felt herself blush, heart beating madly as you repeated what she had been too entranced to hear the first time: “Mina, I wanted to introduce you to my friend Anne.”

Mina! Her heart burst.

A breathless “Yes” was all she could manage to say.

God, she was pathetic. As more heat flooded her cheeks, as she noticed the amused, knowing expression on Anne’s face, something else rose in her. Something cold. Something all too familiar, that slid up her veins winding like a snake to beat up her heart. It left it bruised and crying.

Wilhemina raised her head and tried to swallow back the self-hatred. Like waves when the tide is coming in, it reached further.

You saw the change on her face and in her posture. You frowned, faltered a little under the sudden hardness in her eyes. As Anne characteristically started to ramble, you stubbornly held Wilhemina’s scowling gaze, and you wondered, as you had dozens of times before, how you could protect her from the blows when the blows were dealt by herself. How to cut open her chest and carefully remove the self-hatred. Put it in a box, throw away the key. And the sadness and the fear. Remove those, too.

Someone called for you, so you excused yourself and left Anne and Wilhemina together. The former set curious eyes on the latter and asked her questions in a cheerful, chiming voice. From behind her shields, Wilhemina spat out answers that soon weakened Anne’s enthusiasm. Anne refused to give up so soon, though. You had told her so much about Wilhemina, spoke of her with such light, such bright happiness in your voice and eyes that a few incivilities weren’t enough to send her away.

And Anne – Anne had been touched by you. She had been made sublime. Try as she might, Wilhemina couldn’t find ugliness in her features or clumsiness in her gestures. And Anne spoke of you with such kindness, in such high terms – when you came back, she let out a happy squeal and took your hand in hers.

Utter, complete idiot, Wilhemina tried to convince herself. Except Anne wasn’t an idiot. She too was aware of your supremacy. Wilhemina could see it, the way her eyes shone with admiration, the way she touched your arm and laughed too loudly at something you said.

Anne sat between Wilhemina and you on the couch as you people-watched and exchanged jokes and sipped your drinks. As minutes ticked by, Wilhemina felt herself slip into silence. Anne’s body next to hers was sending forth burning mockery that made her want to shrink back and curl in on herself. She sat with her back ramrod straight and her eyes glazed, fingers nervously playing with her empty glass, as thoughts she tried to silence nagged and mocked in her ears.

At one point, Anne stretched her body, arms curling up towards the ceiling and back arching elegantly, and Wilhemina had to look away to stop herself from throwing insults at her or bursting into tears – she didn’t know which would be more likely.

At 11:55, people started to sing excitedly. A young man grabbed Anne by the arm and led her into the kitchen. You stood up, and offered your hand to Wilhemina.

She hesitated one second, out of pride, before she slid her palm against yours. You laced your fingers with hers.

Those who were brave enough to stand in the cold had clustered on the balcony. You playful pushed a man to the side to request a place at the railing. The available space was small, so Wilhemina’s side was pressed against yours.

The city spread out below her was vibrating with happy expectation. She heard laughter, she heard joyful cries, she heard music. The cold breeze blew on her cheeks but the cold didn’t harm her. She was made of fire when your body was touching hers like that.

The streetlights went off, and an excited shiver ran through the city. You leaned in against the railing. Wilhemina turned her head to look at you.

She watched, mesmerized, the fireworks in your eyes.

Your lips parted in silent admiration at the lights, and Wilhemina wondered whether anyone had ever looked as beautiful as you did in this moment. She doubted it. Jealously and selfishly she leaned closer to you to keep this secret treasure hidden from the rest of the world. You glanced at her, and your gaze lingered admiringly on her face before you shook yourself and focused your attention back on the fireworks show.

When blue blended with red Wilhemina’s breath hitched, and something in her swelled like a wave. It was the genuine happiness on your face, the firmness of your body against hers; one more blue, one more red.

As the next fuse whizzed up the sky, Wilhemina breathed out, “I love you.”

Paw paw paw, mocked the lights. The noise swallowed her whisper.

“Y/N!” cried Anne, appearing out of nowhere with her eyes shining and her steps bouncing, “Y/N! New Year’s kiss!”

Wilhemina took a step away as Anne cupped your face and pressed a kiss on your lips which you, with a giggle, returned.

Red. Just red, this time.

Wilhemina watched the fireworks as they whizzed and exploded, her eyes glazed and her heart ice. She decided her heart was ice and she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Just a prickle - but as you broke the kiss, and Anne, with beauty, laughed, and captured your lips with hers again, the prickle became a blow that broke the ice.

A flower of gold bloomed in the sky and immediately died. Wilhemina looked at the golden dust as it floated downwards.

Something settled in her chest, something new that must have been lurking beneath the ice. It ached. Her fingers started to shake.

It was the finale, she hoped, looking at the fireworks, it couldn’t get worse. There were pink and green and yellow and gold. There were bruises in the sky, and smoke for the lights to choke on.

Like an automaton, Wilhemina turned and walked away from the balcony. She let her brain take over since her heart was dying and making her fingers shake.

In the living-room were people with their faces pressed against the windows, people kissing in corners and on the couch, one woman crying. No one noticed her as she walked past. No one saw her, except a little boy who curiously glanced her way, and immediately lowered his eyes with an awkward, nervous expression, to resume playing with his toy.

Wilhemina had almost reached the front door when her right ankle hit the corner of a coffee table. Pain shot up her leg, making her hiss. She made to bend down and press her palm against where it hurt, realized her eyes were filled with tears, vision swimming, objects and colors blending. Her grip on her cane was shaky and weak. She would sit down just for a second, she thought – Hell no, she scolded. She would push on, put on her coat, reach the door, open the door, and Lord in Heaven if she so much as showed the slightest limp she would, growled the hatred in her chest, the hatred biting everywhere, she would walk for miles in the dark till the pain in her back felt like agony, like molten metal pressed to her skin from within. Shoulders up, chin up, back straight. She forced herself to focus on the pain throbbing in her ankle. Her palm pressed against her chest.

Just as she was about to move again, a hand fell on her shoulder.

“Where are you going, Mina?” you sang in her ear. Your breath tickled her skin and made her shiver. “You missed the last part of the show.”

Your hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She could feel your touch, burning her through her clothes, spreading warmth from her shoulder to her toes. It set everything inside of her on fire, brought everything back to life and made her feel – she didn’t want to ache.

And yet – how addicting a feeling. She had never felt so alive, body and soul so violently vibrating with life and want.

“Is everything alright?”

You had walked around her to plant yourself between her and the door, scanning her face with a frown of worry deepening between your eyebrows.

From the living-room behind her rose voices. They broke into a song. Applause, laughter. Your eyes stayed on her.

“Do you want to leave?” you asked. Nervously you shifted your weight on your feet. There was guilt flickering in your eyes. “I can give you a lift, if you want.”

“I drove here,” Wilhemina heard herself say.

Your eyes flicked to her lips, before meeting her gaze again.

“I know,” you said with an awkward chuckle. “But if you’re too tired to drive, you know, or just would rather I drove you, I could – what I mean to say is, I really don’t mind. Or you could stay here,” you added quickly, eyes shining at the thought – it was just the light, Wilhemina told herself. Just the light. “There’s a spare room with clean sheets. If you’re too tired to drive.”

From far away, a firecracker exploded. Someone in the living room screamed excitedly.

“Did you like the show?” you asked.

“I don’t care about fireworks,” Wilhemina answered. She had meant to speak coldly, but the ice in her had melted under your touch and she was made of heat.

“You don’t? Is that why you didn’t stay to watch the end?”

More firecrackers. The sound reminded her of her defeat. More bruises in the sky, more green.

“I didn’t want to bother you and your… girl,” she heard herself say. Her throat closed up behind the words, as if in protest, refusing to let any more words out ever again if it was going to hurt like that.

“Oh,” you laughed, waving a hand to dispel the thought, “she’s not my girl. We’re both single and you know, a New Year’s kiss is always nice.” Your eyes smiled – but it was a sad smile. “And you know how it is. You rarely get to kiss the person you really want to kiss.”

You laughed, nervously, ran one hand through your hair. Your other hand was still on her shoulder, holding her as if you were afraid she would disappear. Your eyes fell to the floor as a blush bloomed in your cheeks – and then, you looked up again, and watched her with a new, curious expression Wilhemina had never seen before.

“Did you get your New Year’s kiss?” you asked.

Bold. There was boldness in your voice that scared her.

Wilhemina pressed the head of her cane to her stomach protectively, and tilted her chin up to look taller and stronger. She veiled her eyes, shielded her heart, built up her walls – to no avail.

Your face broke into a soft, sweet smile that was so loving, so incredibly fond, it reached the last dark corner in her.

“Oh, sweetness,” you breathed.

Sweetness! Before she could register what was happening, you had leaned in and pressed your lips against hers. And the world shattered.

She didn’t feel the kiss with her lips, but with her whole body, every inch of her tingling and melting and igniting all at the same time. The sweetness and the softness coursed through her and made her forget she had ever been cold, ever been hurt and hated. You rubbed your lips against hers, chaste and warm and dry. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. All she could do was feel.

When you pulled away, there was something cheeky and victorious shining in your eyes. A laugh ran under your nose as you saw the completely stunned expression on Wilhemina’s face.

“Breathe,” you smiled, stroking your thumb over her lower lip.

Wilhemina closed her mouth and inhaled shakily through her nose. She couldn’t understand what had just happened. She tried to process it, but it didn’t make sense. She had turned away, walked away, and you had run after her, touched her shoulder, called her sweetness – you had called her sweetness! – like a balm to her heart, and then the tingles and the fire and the melting…

“Breathe,” you repeated fondly.

“Did you just…?” Wilhemina whispered.

Your smile grew, sewn with warmth and affection. “Yes,” you whispered back, cupping her face in your hands and holding her gaze as she searched your eyes to try and make sense of it all.

Joy sparkled in the black of Wilhemina’s eyes when her mind finally caught on.

“Could you…” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes?” you breathed expectantly.

“…do it again,” Wilhemina breathed back.

You didn’t waste a second. Your mouth met hers again, bolder this time, desperate to taste and to love. A soft moan pushed up Wilhemina’s throat and wrapped around your tongue. She dropped her cane to clutch your collar, lost her balance. You wrapped one arm around her waist and pressed her against you for support.

“Someone’s quite eager,” you giggled against her lips.

She only whined and kissed you again.

And just as you were quite sure you would lose your head, just like you had lost your heart, her body tensed and her hands pressed on your shoulders to push you away.

You refused to let go of her waist, afraid she would fall without support and way too addicted to the feel of her already. Part of you had to be touching her, now and always and forever.

You met her eyes.

For a few moments Wilhemina only stared at you. And then to your utter dismay, her gaze hardened and her face closed up.

You searched her eyes worriedly, but it was like trying to see the ripples of the waves on the ocean’s surface at night under an overcast sky.

“Did it make you feel better about yourself?” Wilhemina spat – voice so cold, so very cold when she had been so warm pressed against you just a second ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Kissing the girl no one wants to kiss. How so very kind and heroic of you.”

She swallowed, blinked; a glimpse at the moon through a hole in the clouds.

“I do not want nor need your pity,” she snapped.

Your thumb started stroking her hip, to ground her, to call her back to you.

“I did not kiss you out of pity,” you said softly, with a reassuring smile. Wilhemina only glared. “I’m not playing with you, I promise. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months.”

Wilhemina let out a disbelieving laugh. “Then why haven’t you?”

You leaned closer to her, and smiled again when you heard her breath hitch.

“Because you would have run away,” you whispered. One of your hands came up to cup her jaw and greet the warmth and softness of her again.

And just like that, the wind blew and dispersed all the clouds; and the full moon poured out its light on the ocean. And then you saw.

What you saw wasn’t the peaceful floating of stars on lazy waves. There was no white foam grazing sand with a gentle, sleepy sigh. What unfolded instead was a scene of terror. Half-drowned sailors clutching pieces of wood, corpses sinking, screams under the indifferent eye of the moon. And you on the shore, shivering, watching mesmerized and terrified the bodies thrown this way and that, the arms flailing and reaching out towards the sky.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and gave Wilhemina a smile, so sweet, so tender – just for her? She felt herself tremble.

“You would have freaked out and pushed me away, wouldn’t you? A little like you’re doing right now.” Another smile, so full of adoration it pulverized every single one of her remaining defenses. “Except now,” you went on, voice getting lower to share a secret, “now you know what you want. Don’t you, sweetness?”

Yes, whispered Wilhemina’s heart. Instinctively she pushed the thought away, questioned it. Yes, her heart insisted.

“I love you,” was what she said.

The smile that you gave her lit up the night.

Had the world always been so bright? Had every single thing always been so beautiful? Wilhemina’s heart was bursting with so many emotions and above it all – love. Love was singing inside her. She was shining.

Tag list: @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers @coconutlipss @saucy-sapphic @thesupremewife @paulsonpills @vintagepaulson @billiedeansbottom @lilypadscoven @winslctrg @simpforpaulson @venablesgirl @mckennamayfairgoode

#this is the worst title ever I know #ahs #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #fics #ahs imagines #sarah paulson

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lillian-nator · 3 years

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Wallflower AU (aka highschool au made w/ @bellfort3)

V i b e s - hanging on the roof; walking across train tracks; skipping school; Lakes, yes, something with lakes; something with different types of sodas. - My angsty teens are gonna have painted nails - Tommy bleaches his hair; Wilbur dyes his hair black - dramatic fuck. - Wilbur in eyeliner plz - Wilbur wears doc martens; black, yellow, maroon, silver shiny - Tommy's worn the same exact jean jacket for the past 5 years; it's 2 sizes bigger than he is; but he wears it every single day; it has fur on the inside; and its light washed with tears; the tears didn’t come like it; he's just ripped it over the years - He doesn't wash it very often, but he's glued patches on it, and Wilbur's drawn on it in sharpie. He just layers hoodies or flannels under it when it’s cold, but still wears it when it's hot - Tommy's also worn the same shoes for YEARS, they’re duct taped together at this point, they're white converse, they're not white anymore, and he's bleach-washed them SO many times that they permanently smell like chemicals. - The laces are frayed, so bad that he doesn’t even wear the laces most days. - Tommy doesn't shy from going in mud or water though, he'll wear the shoes to their fullest and then some. - I think you can tell by now, that Tommy just doesn’t come from a lot of money. - They live in a kind of run down town, very poor, old, smallish. - Wilbur is middle class, which is very well off in the area he lives in. - Wilbur gives off family disappointment vibes. Where he has to sneak out at night, Tommy can leave through his front door. - Wilbur calls Tommy “sunshine”, but very sarcastically since Tommy is a dick :) - Tommy has one of Wilbur's old beanies; it's black and monster branded, the monster logo is green - Wilbur gave it to Tommy 3 years ago, and Tommy never gave it back - btw Tommy's 17 and Wilbur's 19: Tommy's a junior and Wilbur's a senior - Wilbur only drinks Green Apple Monster - Tommy drinks sugar free redbull, but mostly only when Wilbur buys it for him, because Tommy usually doesn't have pocket change - Wilbur and Tommy bring speakers to the train tracks and dance and by that, its them jumping around and occasionally pushing someone over - Tommy uses his allowance to buy cigarettes; Wilbur vapes - both mentally ill - Wilbur is essentially the modern emo. He has this one yellow and black flannel that's oversized, and he wears it multiple times a week - it’s a problem.

- Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo - That’s the group. - I have just been talking about Tommy and Wilbur but they are the main characters so you can suck it. - A scene with Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo, at a lake, throwing each other in, and Tommy gets his shoes soaked, but he saves his jacket from the fall. Water gun fights, and they drink energy drinks and eat chips. they lay in the grass and contemplate life, Talk abt life yes. Abt existence. Abt how shit it is. Half of them have to wake up early and sneak home, the other half get to stay as long as they like. - Tommy tucks his t-shirts into his pants, which are always very baggy black jeans with just gigantic holes. - Tommy and Dream both have ADHD, however, Tommy's meds are purely from welfare, he cannot afford to give any out. Dream however? From an upper-middleclass family. Basically millionaires in this town. He can afford to lose some of his meds. - He yells in the clearing "COME GET YOUR DRUGS CHILDREN" - Besides, I've learned that there are like so many different ADHD meds, and maybe Tommy is just on something a lot stronger than adderall. He can't partake in the pill popping, but he doesn't mind. He does it every morning. - They don't do it often, maybe once a month, depends on how big Dream's prescription is - not that he regularly takes them like a good boy should - And I won't ever write this, but Gogy hangs out with them every so often, in which Gogy and Wilbur have an on and off again hooking up type relationship - whenever they hang out, Gogy like sits and Wilbur's lap and shit - Tommy and Punz GAG - "EW the fuck - get your hands off eachother. ITS GROSS - NO PDA IN MY BACKYARD"

- They hang out in an abandoned Building. But they don't try to fix it up. They're not fucking VSCO girls. They just want somewhere to hang out - If anything they make it worse - they fucking trash the place - It’s not intentional though - It’s like they can have fun without worrying abt the mess - just, sometimes they spill hawiian punch mixed with vodka everywhere - THEY GHOST HUNT AND OUIJA BOARD AND SHIT - They hang out in cemeteries too. they play manhunt in a cemetery, but like the regular version- like just hide and go seek in the dark. - they've done seances even though almost all of them are atheists - anyways the point of the fact is, is that half of them (excluding the minors you know) I'm looking at you Karl and Q - somethings going on between you two have made out with guys, and I'm not gonna sugar coat it, most modern like takes on religion do not take kindly to that

- they go to prom - and Dream somehow ends up with a ton of weed, because he had just turned old enough, and had the money - and they get fucking high OUT of their minds, like they're never doing it again - like, George and Wilbur definitely hooked up at Wilbur's house, which they aren't supposed to do - because Wilbur's parents will fucking flip that Wilbur is sleeping with a random person. No one is quite sure where SapNap ended up, and Tommy lost one of his shoes. In a panic, they spent the next 3 hours looking for it to find it at the lake by the school - Tommy fucking cradles it to his chest. - (are wilburs parents homophobic?) (yes maybe a little side of homophobia) (Is wilbur bisexual or gay?) (he is ‘whoever the fuck looks bangable’) (fair enough) (he is ‘gogy my king’) (TRUUUE) - the bleachers - they hang out under the bleachers

- Gogy = Stylish stoner - very popular, but never not high - Karl is like the goody two-shoes of the group, doesn't skip class, and is on the principals list, however, he will NEVER back down from space brownies - its his weakness - Tubbo has a subway pass, and they do that thing where Tubbo swipes it and everyone fucking bolts into the subway, and they take all the trains at like 4am and just hang from the bars and shit - Wilbur still dresses relatively like, nicely and scholarly, which puts everyone off. He wears very loose sweaters with button-ups underneath. with khakis or black jeans and his docs - where his best friend, our Tommy, wears borderline yellow converse, and one bleached two-sizes-too-large jean jacket, and some second-hand-store hoodies, that are always a bit too worn in, but so, incredibly Tommy - Tommy who legit hasn't brushed his hair in years, not with a brush anyways - too frantic to brush his teeth most mornings. but always chewing gum; Tommy's always everywhere at once - ADHD meds only half-working on him, they couldn't afford the good shit - He'll never quite understand Dream handing out his adderall for free, Tommy would kill for the hard shit, but hey, he's never gonna stop his friends from having a good time

- Let's talk about Karl Jacobs - good ole' goody two shoes Jacobs - all of his teachers are constantly trying to get him to stop hanging out with Tommy and gang - every parent teacher conference is "we love your boy, but we are concerned about his friends" - Teachers have meetings with him, about how the people you surround yourself with can change your future - Karl's like, from the good side of town, plays first in the drumline, plays violin on the side, straight a's, clean-white-air-force-ones type of guy. Name brand clothes. Combed hair - Packed lunch every day from his mom; gets dropped off by his mom, kisses her goodbye; Mom is like very involved in school too - PTA parent - it's fucking good kid Jacobs - and he's sneaking off with fucking potheads to go to college parties and abandoned buildings - Does he do drugs? Well, he’s a big fan of treats if you know what I mean :wink wink: - ….you ever see Ted's video about a 500mg edible …. yeah. - big fan of gummy bears and brownies - Karl shows up to Parties and there are shouts of "Fuckin' goody-two-shoes Jacobs is HERE" - a lot of people make fun of him and think they can push him around - He seems like a softie; welcome mat type beat - but fucking watch this man chug 5 cups of whatever you give him, and then still win beer pong - Like his best friend is fucking quackity, he can do the hard shit - its very much a his parents have no clue who he actually is type beat - Look, his parents have no clue where he is ever - And if they even know he’s out, they don’t know where or with who - If his mom is at all involved in the school, she'll hear about Quackity, basically a drug dealer with how much hash weed he hands out on a daily basis. - Tommy has to be contained in order for the school to run smoothly, and Wilbur is a dramatic fuck that sleeps through most of his classes - Tommy has to take frequent breaks - They make him spend 3rd period in the principles office - Like he obviously needs help but he can’t afford it at all. Even the school can’t do anything for him bc he can’t get anything official for himself - like he can't even try to concentrate - He gave up so quickly in high school, bc they don’t have enough time or staff to help him - he tried in middle school - but man, did he give up in highschool - Yeah. He knows it is hopeless. Can't even afford college anyway. he'll just do whatever Wilbur does - here's an idea: Fucking Karl Jacobs showing up to school one morning just absolutely hammered out of his mind - Karl just showing up to first period AP Physics, and he's barely awake, honestly smells so much like weed and booze, and if he breathed anywhere near you, you could just feel the alcohol radiating from his breath - He's extra bubbly, laughs at everything - takes out his notebook to take some sort of notes, and just fucking giggles at the shapes and equations. He is very spacy, he clearly stayed up all night doing something very illegal; he gets up and jumps around. 2nd period band? oh boy - He gets sick at lunch bet - Like everyone got Drunk but Karl got FUCKED up - It was his birthday, bet - He took like 17 shots over the course of like 8 - 12ish hours, and I looked it up, despite karl being super scrawny and probably like 140 - 150ish pounds - which isn't a lot for being 5'11 - will not kill him - BECAUSE, you guessed it, he turned 17 - He didn't sleep, he was awake taking shots and just fucking who knows what until 6am when they stumbled to school - at lunch, 11:30 in the morning - he's head down on the table, miserable - he doesn't have a hangover yet, because it's only been a few hours, but man, is he nauseous - just the smell of food makes his stomach churn - and the thing about fucking Jacobs showing up drunk as hell - is that at least one of his teachers has called his mom about it - SHES PRESIDENT OF THE PTA FOR FUCKS SAKE, ONE OF THEM KNOWS HER - And the teachers aren't stupid, Karl is so obviously drunk - generally Karl is pretty quiet in class; but now he has no distinction between hanging with hs friends and being in class - he's shouting and cracking jokes and is very tempted to kick his chair over - Anyways, Karl fucks himself over, end of story - ONTO PUNZ’S RELGIEOUS TRAUMA WOOOOOOOOOOOO - It's Punz - fuckin' golden boy Punz; he plays football; and goes to church; and calls his mother "momma"; wears a nice church outfit; and is polite to the bible study mothers that come over on tuesday nights and gets them drinks - just a fuckin' golden boy - A religious family. Go to church every Sunday. Sunday school. Holidays. But. The kid just realizes that they don’t believe in god. Them telling the group like they’re high and he’s like “you know? Some of the shit that’s happened to us proves to me that god rlly isn’t real.” - and Punz like prays every day for Tommy's dad to get his job back; or for Gogy to get better parents; or for Karl to live the life he wants; and NOTHING EVER WORKS. THEY'RE ALL STILL FUCKED. - by the way we will get the the Tommy's dad losing his job later - But Punz's life is controlled by something he doesn't even believe in anymore - because he's still going to the like church breakfasts, and christmas service, and every sunday morning, and helping his mom's ladies bible study, and his parents are talking about sending him to a youth bible camp - - and he doesn't even think he believes in god anymore. - Punz kind of took out his own personal, religious, and family struggles out the way most teenage boys do. Drinking, and lots of sex. - SO I just imagined this like, really dramatic moment, where its the morning after Punz had a one night stand at some sort of party down the street, and he's long past saving his virginity for his wife, but he's buying her the morning after pill, which his church is just so against, and he has like the moment of, "if you do this, you're done." and he does it - he's had a couple of those moments, like, when he first had sex, and when he first smoked weed, or popped a pill, or snuck out at night, or skipped church - but that was the moment of "there is no going back" - like any type of drug or procedure that aborts an embryo, or that blocks fertilization thats already in process in like: the biggest no no in his church community - so once he stepped out of that drug store, he kind of took a breath, and just came to terms with it - "I'm an atheist." - Punz is the pastors son. - he's like, pre-commited to a catholic college - he’s in deep. - so when he first announces it to his friends, one really late night, "I think god might not be my thing." - they just start whistling and say "FINALLY, THE PASTORS SON HAS TURNED AROUND." - Dream just like turns over to him "how many chicks did you fuck to make you realize that?" - Tommy just slings his arm over Punz, "I'm glad you've quit the Jesus shit, Punz. Your better than it." - There’s gotta be this girl ok. He rlly rlly wants to have sex with her but he always backs out. The thing that breaks him. Is that he gets drunk and loses his virginity to someone who is not that girl - like, he likes this girl, and has a good connection with her, and she likes him, and he knows that its gonna be comepletly consentual, and she's like fucking beautiful right? - and she's the one he wants to loose it to and he's a stupid fucking idiot and loses it to some fucking random ass chick that doesn't even go to their school - This triggers a spiral. After that? He slowly starts giving less of a fuck abt everything. He fucked up the one thing you can’t do over and god he’s so painfully aware of it and so painfully aware that he didn’t even fuck up right. - You’re supposed to wait till marriage. Nope. You’re supposed to do it with someone you love and trust. Double nope. He. Fucked. Up. - its just like he wanted to do something bad. he wanted to fuck something up. he was questioning his faith, his like, great and sturdy and always-there faith for the first time, and what better way to test faith than to do something shitty and see what comes of it. and so he was planning and planning and planning how he was gonna do this terrible thing - which is such a good kid thing to do, to put so much thought into your own rebellion - but he wanted this to go perfectly. - Little Pastors Son, Punz, wasn't gonna wait till marriage. - He was gonna have sex with the girl of his dreams before they were even dating - but man did he like her. Did he want her. - And then he fucked some random girl when he was black out drunk. He's fucked everything up - he can't wash this away with confession - he's tainted. He's dirty. - He looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize the heathen staring back. - He hates who he's become. - But he never goes back - he can't. He's dirty. He's wrong. - but the more he goes down the spiral - the more he realizes that one mistake shouldn't have made him feel like that - that if god was real, which he honestly wasn't sure in that department, he wouldn't want Punz to feel like the scum of the earth for doing something wrong. especially when he felt so bad after he did it. This system was fucked. He didn't want to be apart of another cycle - and he's just lying to himself every time he goes to church, and reads a cerse for his mom, and meets with younger kids at the church, and plays flag football with fucking church virgins who are good catholics and follow all their mommas orders - And every night when he says grace he means it less and less. he always does it when his momma asks, but boy does the lords word mean shit to him anymore From Ethan: - A turning point to the others in Punz's breakaway from Catholicism is like - He prays before he eats, usually. Sometimes they wait for him to finish his prayer before eating themselves, just out of politeness. He's a friend, he gets that shred of etiquette - And then one day he just doesn't. They got some fast food for a whole group dinner out at their hangout spot (a warehouse, did you say??) Tommy is staring at it intently but he waits for Punz to pray. Tubbo's already started eating but the rest wait - And Punz just starts eating - Dream nudges him, "No prayer, Pastor's boy?" - "No prayer," Punz mumbles into his food. "I'm trying something new." SO, TOMMYS DAD LOSING HIS JOB ARC W000000000 - it starts with Tommy showing up in a different jacket one day - like you have to understand, he's worn this jean jacket every single day for as long as WIlbur has known him, which is like 6 years - Like Tommy shows up in this giant, khaki work-jacket and it's his dads... - HIS DAD DIDNT DIE - his dad lost his job, which is essentially death to a family who already couldn't sustain themselves - and Tommy shows up to school, face pale and cheeks sunk in and there are visible bags under his eyes - and Wilbur just rushes over immediately and hugs him so tight to his chest - and Tommy just sobs, "pops lost his job -" gasp "I can't - we can't pay the bills this month. everything - its all falling apart Will." - "Hey - hey. Stop. It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be okay. You always are dude." - Tommy does have to get a job - and he probably does drop out of school unofficially, like he just stops going. - he sleeps during the morning classes, and heads into work at 10am - he's a carpenters assistant. it pays well as they need young, able men. but most of the younger citizens in the town go to school - he has to take the day shift because the day shift pays better - he doesn't mind it, he doesn't - it gives him the opportunity to get all of his energy out; but he misses going to school. as much as he hated it, he misses his friends. - and lets be honest, its hard as fuck for his dad to find a new job, he doesn't have a great resume - he didn't graduate from highschool. and he isn;t in top health condition, he definitely doesn't have health insurance - so Tommys stuck with this job for a long time - his dad uses his last paycheck to buy Tommy workboots so tommy feels in debt to him - He’ll get his GED eventually. - I think - The like religious status of the rest of the group brought to you by me - Everyone who I don’t mention is just a hard atheist - Karl and Wilbur are catholic, but to a lesser extent, Wilbur doesn't really go through with lent, and Karl only sometimes does. They go to a different church and go pretty much on holidays only, a sunday a month maybe. - SapNap goes to Punz's church, they've been friends for years. - He goes to sunday school but misses a lot of sermons because of his siblings sports games. - He is involved, but not to the way Punz is - SapNap's mother is in fact in Punz's moms bible group - Punz sometimes doesnt attend the bible group and Sap's mother is all "now you tell that pastor's boy to actually attend next time, got it?" and Sapnap dies a little on the inside - And George is an orthodox christian, but he's pretty much quit due to the blatant homophobia he's seen at his church.

AND NOW ON WILBUR SOOT AND KARL JACOBS AND BARKING - Wilbur has siblings, fun fact - that we will never talk about or address - but definitely nothing like Wilbur, more the Karl Jacobs type - Wilbur is the oldest. he's always lectured about being 'a good influence on your brother and sister.' - They’re big sports kids. Softball and Basketball (tall genes). Straight Bs; Bed by 10pm; Have never missed school - Parents pride and joy :) - Just good suburban kids, Have friends next door, help the neighbors, attend the cul-de-sac barbecues. - Basically who Wilbur used to be up until highschool (until Wilbur met weed and a good group of stoners) - Sure he was a disappointment and he had no clue what to do with his life - But he was happier - Never really liked being the goody- two-shoes boy next door, he doesn't know how karl does it “Playing good boy like a dog” - Also he used dog terms around Karl - Because he’s “Playing good boy like a dog” - He’ll throw Karl a beer and smile “go fetch” - He laughs so hard when he sees Karl be good in a class or play it up for his parents; Because Wilbur’s so past trying - Wilbur will walk by and just bark at karl. Bet. Just Growls lowly; Walks in a circle; Anything to make Karl’s parents (or Wilbur’s own) stare at him and scurry away - Karl’s parents push Karl forward and like hold their younger kids close to their chest, whispering “keep close, don’t look at him” - They tell Karl to stay away from kids like him. - And boy do Wilbur’s pa#rents hate it, They push him along and whisper yell at him As he throws his head back and cackles - I mean imagine, like a stereotypical middle class suburban family: House wife, blue collared father, Two kids; in sports jerseys, Girl in braids, boy in khakis - And then there’s Wilbur: Doc Martins, black jeans, collar and sweater, beanie. Definitely high on something - Chains LOTS OF CHAINS - And he's Barking. Fucking Barking At the nice family down the street - And then he takes out his vape right in front of his parents and silently offers Karl a hit with a smirk - Cause Karl’s too busy playing good boy - And as Karl’s family looks back, as Wilbur is corralled by his mom - He flips them off with the biggest smirk uou will ever see - Wilbur's kind of an ass - And Karl really wants a hit of that vape.

#wallflower au #wilbursoot #tommyinnit #karl jacobs #quackity #sapnap #and Big Q #georgenotfound #gogy #punz #dream #dreamwastaken #tubbo #long post

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years

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Prom & six packets of condoms

Mark Lee x reader // FLUFF, SMUTT , ANGST

Part of PROM SERIES: MARK LEE

Themes: high school! au, prom! au, college! au, best friends to lovers

Word count: 7k

Summary: Prom, six packets of condoms, a funeral, and graduation all needed first to happen before he can finally win you.

Warnings: character death (a parent) if you’re not comfortable with that please click away, mentions of alcohol, mentions of other idol (nct dream), loss of virginity, protected sex, fingering, slight depression, mourning phase,

A/N: inspired by true events, I just finished reading First Times by moonctzeny and I won’t lie I was inspired and my prom memories haunted me the whole day so here you go. Phrases/ paragraphs in italics are flashbacks. Proofread this once only hehe. I will make a time stamp for every condom and will post it on the following days hehe. Enjoy reading

Time stamps for this fic/condoms: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

“You’re the new girl right? Hi, I’m Mark”

It’s been almost four good years since Mark ate lunch with you during the first day of freshman year. You were the new girl in town by that time and you don’t know anyone in school. Mark is the nicest person you’ve met and ever since that fateful day, you two are inseparable and you became best friends.

Now senior year is on full throttle and it seems like everything is happening so fast. Maintaining your GPA, college applications, spearheading extracurricular activities and prom then graduation in just a weeks... its all too much.

“Hey, you all set for tomorrow? You’re not going to ditch me with some other dude who’s more handsome than me, right?” You’re talking to Mark through FaceTime while you two prepare for tomorrow’s big event. He jokes about you ditching him last minute and he told you he’d still love you if that really happens.

“If you mention it again, fine! I’ll go with Jeno-“ you teased him back.

“Hey! I’m just kidding. Don’t do that!” His laugh and his smile are still addicting to watch even if it’s through your phone screen.

Mark asked you to prom, which you think is so sweet of him. And it might not looked like it, but prom is a pretty big deal for Mark as much as it is for you.

It’s that time of the month when you and Mark do a scary movies Netflix and chill ritual in his room. You were waiting for him to get the bag of Cheetos from their kitchen and it was pretty dark in his room and when he finally came back, he was biting a red rose in his mouth and posing sexily in front of you. At first, you thought he was just making you laugh but you saw him walk towards his guitar and strums it. Before he sing you a song, he hands you the rose and kissed you on the cheek.

And that’s how Mark asked you to prom. Simple yet so unforgettable and meaningful. You will never forget how he sings so passionately in front of you and only for your eyes to see.

“Y/n, my best friend. Will you go to prom with me?”

“Who would reject such a great promposal? Yes!”

That night, after his promposal, you two watched scary movies without even noticing that you two were cuddled up and holding hands.

He’s all crazy about how he wants to do everything right for you and also so he could have that full experience with prom. Unforgettable promposal, wrist corsages, his tie matches your dress. Everything has to be perfect.

The most awaited day finally arrived and you are excited to spend a day that happens once in your life. When you walk down the stairs as Mark waits for you with your parents, he was speechless on how beautiful you are.

You know when Mark is getting flushed and shy when he starts to say “uhm” more than three times and he can’t look at you in the eye but he steals glances just to admire how beautiful you are. He puts the corsage around your wrist and you think it’s pretty not because it’s in your favorite color but because Mark chose this.

After your parents took a picture of you and Mark, the limousine arrived right on time. You saw Jaemin peeking at the limousine’s sunroof with a big smile, cheering for you and Mark excitedly because you two look good together.

“Mark, you didn’t have to match your tie with the color of her dress you know? By the way, y/n you look beautiful” Haechan opens the door for you and Mark to join the party inside the limousine with their respected dates.

“Oh Hyuck, it’s his idea give him a break. You look handsome too, nice hair!”

The drive to the hotel was already fun and full of laughter but the big event itself, was a shindig. Disco balls and chandeliers, glitters, confettis and balloons everywhere. Everyone was having a good time, smiles everywhere and everyone was dancing under loud music.

And while you admire everyone having the time of their lives, Mark is only admiring you. He can’t take his eyes off of you, thinking how asking you to be his date is a right decision. What if he asks you to be something else? Something bigger than just being a date. He brushed his thoughts away and just enjoy this night to the fullest with you. Being your date is a great excuse for him to wrap his arm around your waist from behind as you two dance under loud party music like crazy teenagers.

After having a blast at prom and getting half drunk at the after party, you ended up tired and exhausted in Mark’s bed. He flopped beside you putting his right hand under his chin and admire you smile at the ceiling. To him you’re still as beautiful as the first time he saw you today even though your face is all oily and your hair is already down.

“I’m pretty sure we did everything that’s needed to be done for a perfect prom” he said, slightly whispering to not ruin the silence in his room.

“Hmm. Not everything, but yeah it’s perfect. You’re perfect” you whispered back sweetly, trying to let him know that you’re flirting.

“What do you mean?” He bounced back a question immediately and totally missed your flirting. You let out a sigh.

“I overheard Jaemin and the other boys are going to lose it with their girlfriends tonight. Because of that, their prom will be extra special you know? But Mark, you’re perfect! You made this night beyond perfect and I couldn’t ask for more” You see him smile and blush, hugging his favorite striped pillow and try to hide his shyness.

It does make him kind of envy with the others because he wants to lose his virginity too tonight, but the problem is he doesn’t have a girlfriend. The room became silent when Mark told you that. You thought of all the things he did for you today just to give you an unforgettable night and then a crazy idea hit your head like a lightning.

“You can still do it. You have me”

The idea made him speechless and excited but he’s good at hiding it. “Wow- Jeez, I don’t know what to say but are you sure? Because I want this to happen, like really.” He almost confessed his feelings for you but he stopped himself before he ruins this moment.

“Yeah. I want to lose my virginity too tonight” the awkwardness is starting build up between the two of you. “Let’s just pretend we’re together. We do love each other as friends but you know, just so we could have a good time while having sex we uhm- we need to think that we’re together”

“No problem with me” he’s been pretending that you two are together ever since he developed a big crush on you. “Do you want to go to the bathroom first?” He offered.

“That would be great, yeah. I could use some time to fix myself first” you head towards to his bathroom and locked it nervously. The idea wasn’t supposed to make you nervous because it’s Mark but you caught yourself getting excited about the sex.

You found him making the bed and he made the room all dark and left his lampshade open. You walk towards the edge of his bed, Mark on the other side and you see him loosen up his tie and starts to unbutton his dress shirt. When he’s all naked in front of you, you hear your heart pound and beats so fast when you saw him crawl to your side. “Come here, I’ll unzip your dress”

You turned around and you feel his hands roam around your shoulders before he proceeds to unzip your dress. “Nice bra” he says when you faced him again.

Mark invites you to his bed to come lay down holding your hand as if you’re going to fall. It’s weird how it’s not your first time laying on Mark’s bed but this time it felt like it’s your first time.

He gave you a peck on the lips, a quick and friendly kiss. “That’s our first kiss as best friends. I want you to know that It’s me and like Im not going to do anything bad to you. I’m just appreciating my best friend” theres a slight pang on his heart when he said that because right now he wants to scream and tell you his feelings for you.

Mark kissed you again to silence his thoughts. And it was a different kiss from the first one. This kiss made your head move around his pillows, you feel your head sinking as he kiss you deeper and deeper, both of your hands are exploring as if it has a mind of its own.

“And that’s our first kiss, being together” and I want you to know that I love and if you could just wait for me to man up, I will love you fiercely. But of course he didn’t have the courage to say that part to you, instead he kissed you and pretended to be with you.

It was hard to stop kissing Mark and be away from his incredible lips. Lips he used for singing and for his prayers, now he’s using it for kissing you. “Let’s get you naked, baby” he said in between delicious kisses.

He pull away from the kiss and once again admired the girl in front of him. “Mark, you deserve everything” you said, sitting up in front of him. Guiding his hands towards your chest just to brush his soft hands against your clothed boobs and gave him your consent and the honour to unclasp your strapless bra.

You smiled at him when you felt your bra fall down the mattress. He pushed you back on the mattress, kissing your lips and slowly traveling down your neck.

For a minute he just stayed above you and looked at your exposed boobs and proceed to remove your laced panties. You hear him let out a soft exhale, when finally seeing you full naked in his bed.

It’s your first time having sex and neither is Mark but you don’t know why that certain nervousness was gone. He was smiling sweetly to you when he made his way in between your legs kissing your lips again. You feel Mark’s hands roam around your naked body and his touch are just as addicting like his lips. “I’ll be right back”

In the quickest way possible, he went to his bathroom to pump his dick a few more times to make it even harder and grabbed a few condoms from the drawer.

“Mark Lee, are you planning use all six of that?” you were pointing at the condoms.

He chuckled at what you said and went back in between your opened legs and give you a kiss again. “Baby, want to roll it?” he asked, giving you a packet of condom and you nod your head excitedly.

When all is settled, both of his hands are on both sides of your head, cock already lined up, he’s just taking his time with you. “Thank you, Y/n” it should have been ‘i love you, y/n’ but again he kissed you to silence his thoughts.

Pushing inside you slowly, feeling how your walls felt so warm around him. You on the other hand, moaned out the hurt and kissed Mark until you smile whenever he playfully thrusts in you to catch your attention and look at his eyes.

Mark was cute the whole time he was rolling his hips. Cute but fucking hot when looks directly in your eyes and intentionally goes deeper inside. It was quiet and only your moans and his, the skin slapping from Mark’s thrusts are the sounds you can hear inside his room.

You guide his hand to grip your left boob and he got the message and he kneads them. Pulling Mark’s head close to your boobs so he can suck it like the ones you saw in porn, he got the message too. All these are new to him but he’s happy you’re okay with him having the full experience using your body.

If Mark gave you the best full experience for prom, you’re going to give him the best full experience in having sex. It was not long when Mark reached his climax and shoot his cum in the condom and you on the other hand came with the help of his fingers and shivered like crazy underneath him.

Pulling out immediately, he threw the condom and lay beside you, covering you with his familiar sheet that you only use to cover your eyes during scary movies. But now, he’s using it to cover both of your naked bodies. When he pulled you close to him, you were still shivering and sensitive. So he kissed you and until you finally calm down and accept his warmth.

The next day, the sun is shining brightly on Mark’s room and your naked bodies are still underneath Mark’s sheets. You caught him looking at you when you opened your eyes, and you greet him with a smile like you usually do whenever you two had sleepovers.

Waking up with Mark beside you smiling handsomely is not new for you, this happened a hundred of times already. But waking up with Mark beside you naked and his hand is on your waist, is definitely new for the both of you.

“Good morning, beautiful”

“Good morning “ you greet him back with a hoarse voice, “oh wow your smile is nice. Who did you fucked last night, huh?” you added playfully cupping his handsome face and smiling brightly like the sun.

“You” he said with a grin on his face.

“Oh, that’s right I gave you that smile. Can I take it back?” you leaned to his face for a kiss, and you showered him with kisses while you both laugh and giggle like little kids. He ended up being on top of you again, just like last night while he was inside of you.

He lay back on the mattress, thinking maybe you don’t want to do this anymore but it’s morning, and being horny in the morning is something he cant control. So he asked you, “are we still together?”

“Yes. Just until breakfast “ you answered him without hesitation.

That’s his go signal to kiss you again just how you like it. Feeling his incredible lips again that you will surely miss the moment you two eat breakfast. Slowly pushing the sheets away, exposing your body again for him but this time in broad daylight and he can see all of you.

He props he arms and stayed beside you, admiring your glow under the morning light that shines through his window while you let his right hand cup your pussy and let him play with it.

You knew what he’s doing. He’s making you feel good and he’s just laying beside you watching you moan his name with closed eyes and parted lips. The position was damn too comfortable you can move your legs all you want until you’re satisfied while he’s putting digits inside you, gliding his finger up and down your slit or in and out of your cunt.

“Mark” you moaned his name when he finally hit the nerve while your left leg opens a little while he touch you. When it was all too much, you grab hold to his hand begging him to stop because it’s making you weak in all ways possible. And when he did stopped, you were breathing deeply and sharply.

You watch him lick the fingers that went inside you and he looked so hot. He waited for you to calm down and press yourself to his body for an embrace. You and Mark stayed embracing each other thinking how you don’t want this to be over yet. Thinking loudly but not saying it to each other.

You both want the same thing but none of you knew that truth. For you, Mark only loves you as a friend. And for Mark, he cant pursue you because he’s going away eventually and you don’t deserve that kind of love.

“You do know that what you did for me is a big deal, right?” Mark breaks the silence but not the embrace.

“Mhmm. Are you happy? Cause I am” you heard Mark’s heart beats faster and loudly as you pull him more and tighten your embrace.

“I’m so happy, I can finally die” it made you both laugh but still not moving to break the embrace and finally have breakfast.

After what happened you two spend your days together like how you normally do. Going to school together, Netflix and chill, church every Sundays. And if someone will accidentally brought it up, you two will just laugh it all out.

Come graduation, the saddest day of your life. That and the day after graduation. Graduation simply means ‘Goodbye Mark Lee’ and finally letting him go and wish him luck for his college years in Canada.

“I hate Canada” you cry your eyes out as you two sit in front of the big feast your family and his family prepared for graduation dinner and Mark’s send off. “Why do you have to pick the earliest flight tomorrow” you whine.

Mark hugged you and gave you a spoonful of ice cream that you cant resist. “Sorry, I just have to take care of a lot of things before school starts” It’s not that you hate him for going home to Canada and study for college there, but you didn’t even get to spend the summer with him because he has to be there already.

The night before Mark leaves, it was emotional. You cried and cried in your room, looking at the pictures in your phone and the ones that are on your bedside drawer. You cried until you were tired and eventually fall asleep.

Mark leaves at exactly 6am.

And it’s 5am when your mother woke you up with a panic. “Your father had a heart attack. The ambulance is taking too long”

Everything happened so fast that you didn’t have a chance to think it all through. Because of the panic, you drove your parents straight to the hospital as fast as you can, crying while you’re driving and saying your apologies to Mark that he will not hear because you left your phone at home.

“Why isn’t she picking up?” Mark is already at the airport, waiting for you and his flight. Half mad but mostly sad. “She cant just let me leave without saying goodbye right?” he was furious already in front of his parents.

But you never came. And he went back to Canada with a broken heart. He was mad to you because you were petty and selfish just because he can’t stay here for the summer you made him suffer by not sending him off.

While Mark is in the air and up above the clods hating you, you’re in the hospital crying because you lost your father. It was so painful for you to see your mother cry and constantly blame yourself for not driving fast enough instead of crying for Mark while you were driving.

Mr. and Mrs. Lee told Mark the news about your father. It takes a matter of seconds for him to burst into tears while he was in the middle of fixing his dorm room and immediately taking back everything bad he said to you through texts.

In the day of the funeral Mark’s mother handed you her phone, “A phone call from Mark, love. I think you should talk to him, maybe he can cheer you up.” It was sweet for Mrs. Lee to tell you that, but you’re still mad at yourself and yourself mad at him for telling you such hurtful words. Nonetheless you took the phone from Mrs. Lee and answered without saying a word.

“Hi” you heard him gulp, he sound tired “I’m worried for y/n. Who’s taking care of you? You haven’t returned any of my messages or calls. Baby, you have to be strong” the pet name made you tear up, and you let your tears fall continuously because you miss him so much.

“Just say the word and I’ll come back there. Fuck college, I can enrol next semester”

“No don’t do that. I’m taking care of myself Mark, I’m sorry for making you worry” he was glad to hear your voice again. If he sounds tired, for him you sound sad and broken. “I promise to talk to you when I come home, okay” you added, and without any other words you gave back Mrs. Lee’s phone and excused yourself.

As you mourn with your mother and get used with all the changes, you realised that you have to be strong for her and for yourself. Days passed by slowly and it was torture everyday but Mark helped you with all that he can even though he’s far away.

He sends visitors in your house to cheer you up and so you won’t succumb into sadness. First he sends his parents because he figured you and your mother might need some company or help with anything.

The second visit that you got was Mark’s friends Jaemin, Haechan, Renjun and Jeno who made sure to make you laugh every second or minute.

And the third visit was from Mark, he came all the way from Canada. “Im here now” he wasn’t suppose to visit until Christmas but he can’t take it anymore, his worries are killing him. It’s like a dream being in Mark’s arms again, inside your room and enjoying his warmth.

“How’s Canada? Did you found a replacement for me yet?” you whispered, he was glad that you made a joke you’re starting to sound like your normal self again.

“If they can last six rounds on their first night having sex with me then yeah, they can replace you” you punched him hard on his arm and he let out a loud “ouch!” You’re sure that your punch will leave a bruise that he can take on his way back to Canada.

“I was kidd- fuck, y/n that hurt like a motherfu-“ he was really in pain and you can see his eyes watery already. “Im sorry” you kissed his arm and went silent again, curling on your bed waiting for Mark to embrace you again.

“I was just trying to make you laugh and you give back by punching me.” He embraced you again, caging you with his arms. “Even if someone can last 12 rounds, I will still not replace you and you know that”

When Mark’s three day visit has come to an end, you get to say goodbye now. And even when he’s away again, he still takes care of you and your mom by any ways he can. It went on and on and on until you’re finally back on your feet. Though of course half a year is still not enough to fully recover from your loss, you don’t have much of a choice.

College was incredibly tiring and challenging but its better than staying in your room and looking at the ceiling for weeks. It’s a good thing too that college kept you busy and diverted from being sad and lonely. You had new friends and they are great, a couple of suitors but no one can still top Mark’s charms. And you’re more than happy to see your mother smile and cook around the kitchen again. Just like you she fights hard to have a happy life again.

“Can you please eat more? You’re getting thinner and thinner every week I swear! Don’t wait for me to go there and make you eat” you’re getting an earful from Mark because he noticed you got thin because of the stress and maybe from your depression.

“Bye Mark, I gotta go. Need to finish this paper, love you ugly person!” You waved goodbye to him through your phone screen.

“Love you too, please go eat” he says before ending the call.

The moment you finished the paper, you thought about teasing Mark because you got an earful from him earlier. With all you courage and bravery, you sent him a sexy picture. Not too vulgar but enough to make him hard and that’s for sure.

You: [attached photo]

You: Miss me?

After a couple of seconds, your phone dings.

Mark: I do :(

Two years have passed and everything is still fine and you’re completely happy with everything in your life. College is going pretty well, your mom is happy and that’s what always matters, and Mark.... became busy. You two can only talk during Sunday nights because he has a part time job already and he needs to study, so who are you to demand for time, right?

Until one day you saw a girl behind him sleeping in his bed so soundly during one of your FaceTime calls with him. “Let me guess, she can lasts six rounds” there was bitterness with how you talked to him, you’re just thankful that he didn’t deny it.

“Eight actually” it was not right to say that and he knew that, but he doesn’t understand why are you so upset.

“The fact that you told me you’re busy and you cant talk to me because of some reasons then I’ll find out about this? Im your best friend” there was a moment of silence, then it hit you. “Am I?” he never once lied to you, even if he wants to lie to you about something he always tells you the truth no matter how it will hurt your feelings.

“Of course you are, you’re hurting me how can you say things like that”

You ended the call and ignored him for much more important stuff in your life.

A month of not talking became seven hurtful months, you figured if he can replace you he can be replaced too. You thought maybe that this is just for the sake of having revenge, but it’s not.

Taeyong was definitely not for revenge. You fell hard, head first and it felt good. He was a lot like Mark but more free spirited than Mark or maybe because he’s older and he’s graduating college soon. Taeyong adore you and your mom, he can even make your mom laugh and you’d be happy just by hearing her laughs. Sex with him was also great. Greater than the one you had with Mark but you figured thats already given because Taeyong is experienced.

You were in the middle of finishing a paper when Taeyong lure you into taking a break and have an adult stress release. With no questions asked you jumped on him, leaving your laptop open and leaving your paper that’s due in a couple of hours.

He was balls deep inside you when Mark called through FaceTime and your FaceTime in your laptop automatically accepts calls. You didn’t even know that the call was ongoing and that Mark saw you and Taeyong having sex in your bedroom.

Mark called to tell you know that he’s wrong about choosing someone over you and that he’s coming home for a three day vacation again. But instead of having a talk with you, Mark saw you and Taeyong while you’re both at it and he saw you laughing loud when while Taeyong is kissing your neck. Mark looked away and ended the call.

Days passed by and you didn’t know about what Mark saw. And it’s been almost a year from the last time you two had a conversation, that’s why you’re shocked when you saw him at church one fine Sunday morning. After the mass you waited for him outside the church, “You hate me so much that you didn’t even tell me you were coming home?” you were furious.

He didn’t say a word because he remembered how you’re happy having sex with Taeyong a few days ago. “You hate me so much you didn’t tell me anything about your boyfriend” he said and walked away, just like that.

Mark never stopped loving you, but he was hurt. He went to your house but didn’t have the guts to knock and talk to you but your mother saw him. “Mark? My love what are you doing here? Its cold outside, come in y/n is not home so its safe” he was shocked that your mother knew about his misunderstanding with you.

Your mother made Mark his favorite tea and gave it to him with a smirk that made him let out a laugh. “Im guessing you knew already?” You mom nods, still has a smirk on her face.

“Taeyong is a sweet boy you don’t need to worry. You can’t blame him, you’re too slow. You always had your chance but I don’t know what’s keeping you from winning her. I’m starting to get disappointed” your mother teases Mark and playfully pretends that she’s disappointed.

“I’m better than that guy- just give me a few more months. Or years” Mark gulped, realising what he’s promising to your mother, “I won’t stop until I become your son in law”

“That’s the spirit! To be perfectly honestly you two are stressing me out, so please do what you must”

You are getting tired of the constant push and pull with Mark so you decided to finally talk to him and iron things out before things get out before misfortunes like losing your friendship happens. Even though you’re not sure if he’s okay to talk you still went to his house, only to find out that he went somewhere. “It’s okay Mrs. Lee, I’ll wait here” you point at their porch swing and there, you wait for your best friend to come home.

“Y/n?”

“Hey” you nervously stood up from the swing, “I was waiting for you”

“Good. We need to talk” he sat down next to your side of the swing and he rocks it gently, giving you guys a little breeze. You notice he’s awfully in a good mood and you wonder why.

“Can we please stop fighting? This is not us. I miss you and- I don’t have to fabricate what I want to say to you. I miss my best friend, and that’s that” you kept it real and short because you’re dying to hear him talk, you want to hear his side, his point of view, his say in all of this.

“I wasn’t keeping that girl, she was never a secret. It just kind of happened. Life can be so stressful if you’re alone and far from home. Then you over reacted and started calling me a liar but the truth is I don’t know how to say that ‘hey, I had sex last night’”

“Of course you can tell me if you had sex with other girls Mark, why would you think that I won’t care?”

“Don’t fool yourself, y/n. We both know we have feelings for each other. We don’t say it out loud because were scared someone might get hurt. But our actions speaks loud and clear for us”

What Mark said was true, and as expected the truth was too much for you. Taeyong flashes in your mind and you constantly ask yourself if this is considered cheating. “What are we going to do now?” you asked him.

“I know too well what I’m going to do, and I’m not telling it to you. And I know that Taeyong is a nice person, I know because I just talked to your mom. If you’re happy with him, then be happy with him. Don’t let what’s going on between us ruin that great relationship. I just want for us to stop fucking fighting, like what you said I miss my best friend and that’s that” he smiled sweetly at you and pulled you in a hug. His hug that you missed so much you don’t want to let go now.

‘Good things happen to those who wait, but great things happen to those who ‘hustle’ it’s a quote that Mark read somewhere in the internet and he couldn’t agree more. But in his case, he can’t ‘hustle’ because that means stealing you from Taeyong. So he waits. Patiently. If fate decides to bring you two together, then Mark will definitely grab that chance.

Things went back to normal and the two of you talk again everyday during your senior year in college. Sharing stressful times during internship and talking about what you guys want to happen in the future. It’s always been like this with Mark, you two are very different people who have different views and goals in life but nonetheless you support each other no matter what happens and you two somehow meet in the middle and work things out. For the importance your friendship.

Did you stop him from studying college in Canada? No. Did he stop you from dating Taeyong? No. You strongly believe that your differences makes your friendship more interesting.

You and Taeyong on the other hand, had a rough time and decided to end things because it’s the right thing to do. He can’t keep on disappointing you when he forgets about your dates, he has a stable job so he’s busier than ever and he admits he’s been falling out of love. You were hurt. And you decided to stay single and heal alone from the heartbreak before you open a new chapter with Mark. Now, you’ve been single for almost half a year already and Mark is clueless.

“Do you think that it’s unfair that you get to attend to my graduation but I can’t attend on yours?” you watch Mark fix his gradation robe through your phone and you feel so proud of your best friend.

“Fine. Fly here now, I’ll give you an hour” he jokes, and you both let out a laugh. “Don’t worry, were still having the same graduation dinner. Again.” he adds.

“Okay fine, then. I’ll see you tomorrow, at my graduation. Oh can you bring that robe? I want us to take a picture wearing our graduation gowns” you pout through your screen.

“Well, It’s not allowed but fine princess, I’ll make it happen” the pet name made your heart flutter.

Graduation felt more like prom to you. Why? Because you’re looking forward to see Mark and take cute graduation pictures with him. After the graduation ceremony, it was not hard for you to find him because he’s the only person who’s wearing a different graduation robe.

“Mark!” you ran towards him excitedly and he catches you with welcoming arms. “you look fucking handsome!”

“I know, told you I’ll make it happen” he winks at you and put you down on the ground.

“Now now children, just like prom. Look at the camera. Big smiles please!” your mother initiates to take those cute pictures you always dreamed of. “Honey go see some of your friends, we’ll wait here” and off you go to say goodbye to your friends.

While you were away, your mom took the chance to talk to Mark and tell him that you and Taeyong are long gone. “What? She didn’t tell me anything about them breaking up” Mark was shocked, he felt betrayed for a moment but mostly happy because now he can finally ‘hustle’.

“Honey, she wants to recover from the breakup by herself. She didn’t want to drag you in the mess. Just like you she waited patiently for the right time, until she heals”

Because of that great news, and you didn’t know that Mark already knew about the truth, he became bold about his feelings for you. Now that you’re both home and Mark will not go back to Canada anytime soon, you spend each day together just like when you were in high school. You notice how he flirts with you constantly everyday, how he tells you he loves you without even stuttering, he even asked you, “if we end up getting married someday, which will probably happen” he winks, “how many kids do you want” and the question completely caught you off guard.

It was Netflix and chill night and you and Mark are cuddled in the middle of his bed watching a scary movie, screaming and shouting like teenagers. After the movie, he needed to pee but he didn’t want to go to the bathroom alone, “come on, I’ll stay with you while you pee” you offered and he gladly accepted.

While he pees, you snoop around his bathroom stuff and you see the box of condoms and recognised the condom brand, “is this the one we used that night?” you asked boldly.

He chuckled low, shy to to answer your question but he said, “same brand. different box”

Something came inside your head that maybe he used it all up while he waits for you ‘patiently’ during your time with Taeyong. “And no I didn’t fool around while I was waiting for you. The box before that was the box. Our box.”

“So this new box will wait patiently too?” you teased him.

“No it’s for tonight” he came closer to you and hugged you from behind, looking at you through the mirror. “Why didn’t you say that you and Taeyong were long done?”

“Let me guess, my mom told you” he nods, you turned around to face without breaking his grasp around your waist. “That’s cheating” the teasing never stops and you returned the hug. Putting your arms around his neck and ruffling his soft hair.

“Are we together again?” Mark asked shyly, his blush was visible and it made smile and nod your head to answer his question.

The next thing you know, your lips touched. It was like the first time you kissed him, or rather the second time. The way he kisses you is still the same, full of love, careful and addicting. It’s the exact same lips you want to kiss everyday and forever for as long as you want, and anytime you want.

He caries you back to his bed without breaking the kiss, thinking about how many times he imagined this kind of moment with you again. He sat on the edge of his bed as he puts you on his lap and carefully removes your clothes. You did the same with him and you’re eyes widened when he’s perfect body greets you. “You’ve been working out?”

“Mhmm. Since the day you sent me that sexy picture of yours, thought it might not be fair if you’re the only one who has a hot body” the thought of Mark looking forward to have sex with you again made you laugh and remove the pieces of clothing remaining in your body. You pushed him to the mattress and removed your pants in one swift move then proceed to remove Mark’s.

The kissing continues once you’re both naked in bed already, touching each other freely and boldly. Mark being on top and you laying comfortable beneath him. As the moment became more intense, the feeling of his kisses changed. It became filthy and lustful, and you want more. He took turns between your lips and your nipples, holding you close to his body. “I’ll be right back”

You try to guess how many condoms he’s going to use tonight, and to your surprise. He brought one. Only one. And somehow you get what he’s saying with that condom statement. “One condom is enough to prove and show to you how I love you so much, then I can do it again on the next day, then again and again” he kissed your nose as he kneels in between your legs. “but if you want to finish the whole box tonight, it’s fine with me”

“Hmm. No, one is enough for me too”

“Thought so too” he guides your hand to pump his dick and make him hard even more before he rolls the condom. He put both of his arms on both sides of your head and leaned down even more so he could reach your lips and kiss you while he fucks you. It was a feeling like any other when Mark finally pushed in. Not even Taeyong can make you feel good like this, as if every thrust is full of pleasure.

You feel your body being dragged from the mattress because of his fast pace and hard thrusts. Eventually pulling away from the kiss for air and let out all your whines. Mark’s thrusts are sometimes slow and deep like he’s rearranging your guts, and sometimes his thrusts are piercing and fast.

“No more pretending, I love you and I will never let you go again” he said those beautiful words while he was thrusting fast and gripping your hand, bringing you to your climax.

You do love him too so much but you can’t say it out loud because he didn’t stopped thrusting until it’s too much for you that your toes curled and you shake uncontrollably underneath him, moaning his name loudly. He finally stopped and loaded the condom with his cum. You watch him removed it from his dick and throw it away but his dick still shoots some more cum on the sheets and you watch him get embarrassed.

After cleaning up, he slides under his thick cover and cuddles with you. Arms around each other saying ‘i love you’ over and over again and sealing it with hundreds of kisses.

Story time

During my prom, I have this friend who moved to Canada we were really good friends. He became face of the night during prom because everyone wants to take pictures with him because he’s going to leave the next day already.

We stayed good friends we just talk everyday and he helped me through a really bad breakup and then I helped him surprise his girlfriend during valentines. (we have a flower shop and he bought expensive af flowers for the girl and we delivered it to her house) the she cheated.

And then after six years he went home and we had coffee :))))

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saint-eridell · 4 years

Text

A Silent Prayer (Midoriya Izuku/F!Reader)

I… honestly don't know how this happened. The words just kinda came out. I didn't start out intending to write a slow burn saga, but that's apparently what my brain decided to do with it. Might continue the series at some point, to be honest; this whole universe has its hooks into me.

Collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten's Citrus Dome server collaboration. 15k, completed, proofread, no beta. Pairings: Dryad!Midoriya Izuku/Human!Reader, Human!Toshinori Yagi/Dryad!Midoriya Inko Prompt: Gods Content warnings: Background character death, non-con (very brief, not explicit)

Read on AO3

Quick Guide (ctrl-F to jump)

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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Prologue

Your village's clearing, while spacious enough to afford room for a small population, is essentially cut off from the outside world by the dense verdant wall that circles it on all sides. One of two paths out leads toward a well-maintained temple where the locals (and rare traveler) leave offerings to the Fae that populate the forest, and one leads out to the nearest trading post… which lies a week's away ride on a speedy horse. This clearing of hand-built homes and ancient looking shops is the only thing you've known. Your studies as a temple attendant began young, before you could even comprehend what you were training to do, and have kept you attached to the village with zero chance of travel.

That has suited you just fine so far. From what the hunters talk about seeing in the forest… you'd rather stay alive than "sightsee".

The first thing you're taught in your village is to respect the forest. Even the youngest of your people know not to step in Fae circles, or follow strange sets of eyes in the dark, or listen to any voices that come trickling out of the treeline on quiet nights. The Fae could be immensely giving, but they're fickle creatures on a good day and absolutely dangerous at their worst. Contact with any roaming Fae, regardless of the type or how friendly it seems, has long been banned among your people. Your job as an attendant, despite a common misconception that you have direct contact with beasts and monsters, is to maintain the temple, greet travelers, and meditate among the many gardens built within the temple walls.

Worship is a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the fruits of your labor at the altar. Every day you pray. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods.

But you never expected one to answer… much less three times.

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Part 1

The first time is after a terrible fire that razes half of the village during your first year of training. A roaming wyvern tears through the fields surrounding its back half in a fury, razing an entire cluster of homes and over half of the summer crops already suffering through a prolonged drought. The village finds itself in disarray amid the smoldering remains: one half wants to burn the temple in retaliation, seeing the wyvern as an omen that some Fae lord is on the warpath, while the other seeks to gather what remained of the crops as one final beseechment to whoever or whatever they'd angered.

Having just been initiated, your young mind goes directly to one of your first lessons: true offerings are of the heart. In your barely school age mind, that means offering something that means a lot to you. After some consideration you narrow it down - your favorite doll, a gift from a mother you never had the chance to know - and take it to the temple. You find a quiet altar to lay the doll down upon, and as soon as you find your knees to begin praying before it you catch sight of a boy hovering behind the marble pedestal.

His head is wrapped in emerald linen, but it rounds off enough to suggest there's densely packed hair underneath. A single curl peeks out at the center of his forehead, somehow even deeper than the rich dyed fabric over it, its point resting between huge green eyes that seem to peer right down to your very soul. It would be eerie if he wasn't smiling at you with a gap where one tooth should be, a bright beam of sunshine in an otherwise rather gloomy marble-lined room.

"Is that a doll?" he asks, and his voice chirps with the same excitement of the first few birds that poke out of the melting winter snow. You nod, frozen with trained hesitation that wars with your naive curiosity - he doesn't look familiar, nor does he look like the child of anyone who had recently come through the village. But he doesn't look dangerous to you. He's barely as tall as you, and he smiles too nice to be a threat… right?

You open your mouth to call for your matron but the boy holds both hands up suddenly, his eyes somehow widening even further with a bolt of fear. "Wait," he whispers. "I'm not supposed to be here. I heard people praying and snuck away from my mother." He tilts his head. "Did you sneak away from your mom, too?"

You shake your head in response. "I live here," you explain quietly, matching his hushed tone. "I'll work in the temple one day. I came here to offer my doll so our fields will come back."

The boy's face splits into a grin. "Does that mean I'll get to see you again?"

You aren't given time to answer: a sharp voice echoes into the room from somewhere beyond the open door, growing louder by the second as someone approaches. You turn your head to listen until a quiet shuffling brings your attention back to the boy, who's moved around the altar and taken the doll in one hand. He quickly tugs off the linen wrap covering his head and thrusts it toward you. You struggle to grasp it, shocked by a pair of tiny antler nubs that poke through the curls on the top of the boy’s head... or Fae’s rather. There’s no mistaking the point of his upper ears. "Here," he whispers urgently. "It's my favorite, so be careful with it. Wrap it around some ashes from your burned crops and bury it in the middle of the field." He waves as he steps back with another one of those beaming smiles, your doll clutched tight to his chest. "I promise I'll keep your doll safe. Maybe we can play next time!"

You blink, and as quick as he appeared he's gone. Matron Elspeth, a short and round woman with more than enough years in the temple to justify her limited patience (and the woman in charge of your temple training), appears behind you the second he’s gone. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she snaps as she grabs you by the upper arm and hauls you toward the door. “We’re convening the-

You dig your heels into the floor. “Wait!” you exclaim with all the assertiveness your tiny voice can muster. “I have something!”

The matron stops to glare down at you. You hold up the linen like it’s a prized tapestry. “A boy appeared in here and gave this to me. I brought my doll as an offering and he gave this to me.”

The matron’s brows knit deep between her eyes. “And you took it?”

You nod eagerly, but you aren’t prepared to see such a terrifying old woman blanch like she just witnessed a murder. She stops you both in the hallway, all sense of urgency abandoned, a wrinkled hand held to the wall as she breathes out a long, ragged sigh. “Oh, child,” she murmurs. “I don’t think you realize what you’ve just done.” She gives you a smile that’s softer than anything you’ve ever seen from her, and it’s disarming enough to have you stunned silent. Isn’t she supposed to be rapping you across the knuckles with her willow switch? “He was Fae, wasn’t he?”

You nod slowly, your excitement slowly twisting into pangs of dread. “I didn’t give him my name,” you burst out after a sudden realization - of course she’s worried, she thinks you just signed yourself away to the forest. What was the first thing she’d taught you? You wave your hands in front of you defenselessly, the scarf flapping back and forth. “I only said the doll was my favorite, and that I’d brought it as an offering. He said this headscarf was his favorite and that I should bury it in the field wrapped around some ashes from the crops and -”

“Eeeeeeasy,” Elspeth chides gently. She lowers herself to a knee to put herself on eye level with you, both hands wrapped around your shoulders. “You did the right thing. I wouldn’t have expected someone so small to learn our ways as quickly as you have.” She holds her hand out for the scarf and you hand it over. She turns it over gently, running her fingers over the seams with a pensive hum. “And you say he told you to bury it?”

“In the field, wrapped around ashes from the burned crops."

“And you absolutely did not give him your name?”

You shake your head fervently. “He didn’t even ask for it.”

Elspeth’s frown deepens. “Curious.” She rises slowly to her feet with a wince as both knees audibly crack under her shifting weight. You grab her arm to help her stay upright as she rests a hand on the wall once again with a low groan. “I’m getting too old for this,” she grouses. “You need to hurry up and grow already so I can hand off the robes.” Her wrinkled hand takes one of yours as she leads the way toward the temple’s main hall. “Tell me more about the boy.”

You go through everything you can remember - same height, pale freckled skin, lots of green curls, big eyes… “Oh, and horns,” you add on.

Elspeth stops you both at the end of the last hall. Several groups of people in various temple garb hover in the large foyer beyond, but your matron turns your back to them with both hands on your shoulders. She bends low at the waist to stare you down from only a few inches away. “Horns?” she hisses.

You nod, confused by the sudden change in her demeanor. “Tiny ones,” you reply. “Like when the young bucks grow their first set at the beginning of summer. I didn’t see them or his ears until after he gave me his scarf.”

Elspeth goes quiet for several seconds, her gaze averted to the throng behind you, and just as you open your mouth to question if she’s okay she’s steering you around and through the crowd with a purpose. “We need to speak to the temple Ascendant,” she urges quietly. “This is beyond both of us now, little one.”

---

Part 2

You hadn’t been approached by just any run-of-the-mill forest creature. If you really had experienced the entire moment (which the linen basically proved without a shadow of a doubt despite your own dumbfounded disbelief), you’d come across a young dryad. Or rather, he’d found you, which is an incredible occurrence in itself: dryads are known for being among the most reclusive of Fae, preferring to live in their heavily altered pockets of the forest where only their kind can survive. According to the ancient lore they’re protectors of a vast plane beyond the one humans live in, a vanguard of Fae hidden among life-providing vegetation and deceptively thick forest floor in wait for someone or something to come along and threaten their territory. The tomes in the temple library are filled with tales from “survivors” of attacks by wandering dryads, all telling of razor sharp teeth and sickly green skin and a heathenly worship of the old gods that on its own warrants avoiding them at all costs.

But in the whirlwind following your encounter with the young Fae, something becomes glaringly obvious: no one wants to talk about who had provided the linen that saved them all, despite it successfully bringing back their fields during a single earth-shaking rainstorm and assuring a solid harvest that would more than provide through the winter. All the villagers flock to the temple with offerings by the basket, but no one wants to acknowledge who had actually saved them. That reality sticks with you like a sharp thorn, as does the dryad boy’s hauntingly sweet voice as you grow older within the temple walls, your studies growing more intense by the year. By the time you reach adulthood, you’re actively involved with just about every aspect of temple life. You’ve grown popular among your fellow attendants and the temple-goers alike, even the ones who seem reluctant to be there at all. Your easy-going demeanor and disarming smile is able to diffuse even the staunchest of cynicism. You have, for all intents, and purposes, become the shining example of everything Matron Elspeth raised you to be. Nothing in this world makes you prouder than knowing you're on the way to earning her robes… and maybe, at some time in the future, the temple Ascendant's.

You remain faithful to your doctrine, but in the dead of night every full moon you pray that he’ll come back. You’ve had years to think about it: if you give him a “given” name, he’ll have to use that. It’s not yours, so he won’t own you. Dryads are attracted to beehives, presumably for the same reason pixies are attracted to berry bushes (an almost impulsive sweet tooth) so you’re ready with a clump of the temple’s finest honeycomb every time the moon reaches its largest point.

But despite your increasingly saddened prayers and offers over the years, no sign of him or any other dryads appear. There are rumors of the occasional peculiar looking traveler with big green eyes, but your temple work prevents you from wandering into the village unless it’s on a designated supply pickup day. Elspeth tells you to forget him and focus on your studies every time she catches you quietly moping: “We can’t have our future Ascendant being wooed away by some doe-eyed boy, regardless of if he’s human or not.”

On the evening after your confirmation and the following party, once you’ve returned from the village and gathered up your usual prayer supplies, you make your way to your favorite altar in the temple as the moon finds its highest point in the sky above. The room’s roof has been removed to give a full view of the sky for astral worship, but you prefer it for the way it allows moonlight to fill the center with a skirt of fading dark that swallows the edges of the room. It’s easier to focus here, to lay yourself bare before whatever force that lays beyond the clearing’s edge and let it speak through the beams of light emanating from above.

Elspeth disapproves of your “fixation”, but doesn't argue back when you request privacy for the rest of the evening. Your birthday this present is in the form of your matron keeping all wandering staff away from your prayer room, and that seems perfectly fair to you. You’ve already made plans to repay her empathy with a few of her favorite lemon pastries.

You lay out the contents of the basket hanging from your arm across the marble altar’s polished surface: green and gold candles, several lengths of high quality gold pendant chain, a large bowl of fresh, sticky honeycomb and an ornate goblet full of a rare winterberry mead you were given by the lead hunter’s son (“For the day you get free of that prison and decide to marry”, he’d boasted... his mistake, you’re keeping the mead and he can choke on the cork).

In the center goes a hand-sized velvet pillow upon which you set an emerald big enough to fill your palm. It had taken three years to save up enough for it, but in your eyes it’s the best thing you’ve ever bought. The moonlight dancing off the lines of the gem’s depths flicker and dance exactly like the Fae’s eyes had so many years ago. You pause to take in the sight, transfixed by the shifting planes that white themselves out before immediately shifting to deep green and then to inky black when you tilt your head.

A slight breeze rattling through the room snaps you from your reverie. You glance upward where the moon hangs directly overhead, a wide white circle set deep into an array of scattered stars and inky skyspace beyond. A vivid memory of pale skin dotted with freckles flashes across your mind’s eye and you have to force yourself to redirect to the present, shaking your head hard as the breeze fades away. “Focus,” you murmur to yourself. You don’t have long before the moon will move away from the center of the open roof.

Once the candles are lit, several cones of musky incense set into miniature cauldrons come next, wisps of pungent smoke permeating every dark corner of the room within seconds. You kneel before the altar once everything is in place with your plain white robes folding neatly under you. As you take your first deep breath, the incense fills your nose and drowns out anything beyond it; a hazy blanket hovers thick and heavy in your sinuses, even after you exhale.

This is an easy process for you. You've long mastered how to find your own meditative headspace through years of disciplined practice. You let the chirping of bugs beyond the temple echo around your ears, your breathing slow and light. You tilt your closed eyes up toward where you can vaguely tell the glow of the moon is strongest. "I have no crisis," you say in your head. "I seek no power, no glory, no riches. I only wish to see my friend again." A deep sense of peace radiates down to your bones as you let out a slow breath. The entire room comes to a standstill, even the wind seemingly reverent of your descent toward the lowest floor of your headspace. If you go any further, you feel like you could slip right through the floor.

"We're friends, eh?"

Your eyes fly open as a shriek tears through you, every semblance of calm shattered. You kick yourself backward and the cushion you'd been kneeling on flying forward to bounce off the ornate carving set into the front of the pedestal. You skitter in the opposite direction, prepared to take off running down the hall and find the first guard you come across, when you stop dead with your hands planted to the cold marble floor.

It's him.

The dryad boy is standing in the same spot he'd appeared in last time, smiling at you with that same beaming grin. Or… it looks like him, at least. He's taller now, but he still looks to be around your height, maybe just an inch or so taller. It's obvious he's been up to something strenuous: his tunic sleeves cut off around defined upper arms, where you can spot an array of thin scars set into his pale, freckled skin. He's dressed in emerald traveler garb, a linen wrap identical to the one he'd given wrapped loosely around his neck, and as you look further up you choke on a gasp.

You hadn't been hallucinating all those years ago. The tiny antler nubs he'd been sporting before have grown fivefold and now branch over his head in tall, proud spikes that circle his hair like a jagged halo. He seems to catch what your eyes lock onto and he dips his head, a scarred hand reaching to clutch at the fabric draped around his neck like he wants to throw it up over his head. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, and you're immediately floored by how achingly familiar the lilt of his voice is. You've heard it in your dreams enough to know it's him. "I didn't mean to scare you that bad."

You push yourself up to your feet with an indignant huff. "Scare me that bad?" you grumble back as you dust yourself off and right your robes.

He laughs again, light as air. Your anger slips away at the sound despite your best attempt to hold onto it. You're not some shrinking violet, dammit. "I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself," he replies through a fond smile. "Couldn't help myself."

You huff your disapproval, which gets you another chuckle. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he says as he takes a step forward with his hands raised in a show of surrender. "No more scares, I promise." He fixes you with another beaming smile. "Happy birthday. I'm here now."

Your heart flips sideways into your ribs. He'd really heard you. But if he could hear you tonight…

"Why didn't you come any other time I prayed?" you ask before you can consider the implications of your query. You slap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry," you say quickly from behind your palm. "I don't mean to say I expected you to listen or appear, I just…"

The dryad fixes you with a concerned frown. "You just what?" he asks back without a trace of anger, which catches you off guard. "I'm not gonna cut your tongue out or anything. You didn't offend me."

You let out your held breath in one hard burst. Thank every god in existence. You pause, waiting to make sure he really isn't angry and just playing head games, then proceed with only a tiny tremble: "I just hoped you would."

Something akin to pain dances across his face and you immediately regret your admission for reasons you can't quite figure out. "I'm sorry," you exclaim again, but he holds up a finger before you can try to babble through a reason why.

"It's not easy for my kind to survive here," he says with a solemnity that draws the entire room to a standstill. "The air is too dry for ones who haven't acclimated to it. I'll admit, the first time I tried I got incredibly sick upon returning home." His gaze flicks to the span of marble between your feet. "But I've been practicing. I should be able to stay a few hours now." He finds your eye again and the sincerity behind them smashes into you like a cannonball. How could anyone ever say his kind are hideous? Is it the antlers?

"If you'll have me, that is."

Oh gods above, below, and in gran's cookbooks. "Of course," you breathe back without hesitation.

His smile returns, wide and genuine, bright enough to narrow the room to just him alone. "I was hoping you would say that." He bows politely, his traveler's cloak brushing the floor as it sweeps back. "I'm sorry, I didn't have a chance to introduce myself before. May I have your name?"

A caustic jolt rushes up the length of your spine. Every hair on your body raises at the root as you cut a glare in his direction. Oh no no no, you didn't go through an entire childhood of Matron Elspeth's lectures to fall for his ruses that easily, no matter how hard he makes your stomach flutter. "No you may not," you say back with practiced ease. He sits up abruptly to give you another wounded look, but you're too on guard for it to work. "I'm sorry." You really aren't.

He huffs a laugh. "Fair play. I should have known better. May I have a name to address you by?"

You've trained for this your entire life. In no way is he going to get you. "No you may not," you say again. "But I was born under a sparrow's first nest." A meaningless fact that would at least lead him toward something you'll answer to without naming you directly. Elspeth is going to be so proud.

He hums, seemingly picking up your subtle lead. "Sparrow, then," he confirms. "It suits you."

You clear your throat as the collar of your robe shifts against your reddening neck. You can't hold eye contact and keep your flush contained so you opt for the former while your hands clasp respectfully behind your back. You're an anointed temple servant. You won't be reduced to a pile of girlish mush in your own temple. "Thank you," you reply with a polite bow. "And is there a known name I may refer to you by?"

"Deku," he chirps back. "You could have just asked. I'm not as picky with my known name as you humans seem to be."

You straighten up with a placid smile. "Can you blame me?"

Deku shrugs. "I mean, a little," he replies with an honesty that almost knocks you backward again. "I've seen the records humans keep on us. The way your "beastmasters" talk makes us sound like feral crypt monsters."

You catch the bitterness in his tone and squirm on the spot. You hadn't meant any insult. "We've had a lot of people killed by dryads over the years," you reply as gently as you can. "And even more that have disappeared around the same time one was seen. The people here are just fearful."

"Fear doesn't excuse ignorance." His jaw flexes and your frame draws tight with tension. He takes a slow breath as he pauses, and his anger visibly recedes. "But you haven't taken off running yet, so I guess it's safe to assume you're not as ignorant as the others."

Your voice drops to a murmur when you respond. "I remember what you did for us. We would have starved the winter after that fire if you hadn't brought our crops back."

"Thank my dad for that. It was his idea. He couldn't make the trip himself, so he sent my mom and I with instructions."

The pieces click into place with a weight that knocks the wind from your lungs. Deku watches you ponder as he steps around the altar and perches on its edge. "You didn't just save us. You risked your life to do it. But… why?"

"Because you asked me to-" He plucks the goblet and gives it an appreciative sniff. "-And you brought a worthy offering to go with it." He sips the mulled wine with a deep groan of approval. At least the idiot who'd been hitting on you throughout the entire celebration has good taste in booze. "Winterberries?" You nod, and he takes a longer sip before offering you the goblet. You take it with pride as he traces his thumb over his lower lip to catch a stray drop (don't stare don't stare don't stare don't stare). "Gods, this is fantastic. I hope your meadery has put in offerings, because they deserve whatever they were asking for."

You go to take a sip as he continues his praise, but another bolt of anxiety keeps you from raising the cup all the way to your lips. This isn't a directly outlawed interaction (you can't recall a rule that says you're not allowed to share an offering, as far as you can remember); however, something still feels… ominous about accepting such an offer. Or maybe you're just being paranoid. The lore books also said dryads instinctively kill humans on sight.

His features darken at your hesitation. "I can guarantee that I've already got a tolerance if you just tried to slip me something," he spits out with a mix of anger and raw hurt. The venom in his tone paralyzes you with fear and for a long moment all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes. You swallow around your dry tongue as you struggle to formulate a disarming response.

"It's not like that," you finally say back with the goblet held in both shaky hands. You raise it for a prolonged sip and make a display of showing that you actually took a drink, which seems to assuage his anxiety as much as it does yours, the mead warming your throat and chest as it settles in a warm ball somewhere deep in your core. The Hammerbar meadery doesn't mess around with the efficiency of their products, apparently. "See? If there's something in it now you'll know."

Deku shakes his head. "Then let's hope it's just mead. I'm sorry. I don't think you'd do that." He turns away to pick at the honeycomb and pops a corner into his mouth, which is received with another appreciative noise from deep in his chest.

The conversation is light and easy from the very beginning. He's young for his kind with double your lifespan ahead of him, maybe longer if he "ascends" (a term that has you both laughing in solidarity as you commiserate on your respective mentors). After a good hour of chatting a silence finally lapses between you, the buzz of cicadas filling the space as Deku picks up the last chunk of honeycomb. You sit at the altar's base, just within touching range of the leg he has dangling over the edge of the pedestal, his eerie green eyes trained on you with the sharpness of a royal blade.

He's ethereal in close range. The air around him carries a drift of something wild and feral, like an inaudible drumbeat that thumps in time with your heart.

"Do I make you nervous?"

That feels like a loaded question if you've ever heard one. He seems to pick up on your hesitation once again and tilts his head, his lips parted slightly around a faint smile that makes your heart skip a beat. "No," you reply, but it's a hollow projection. Deku raises a brow, a clear sign he caught your lie.

"Uh… maybe a little. You said it yourself, human understanding of your kind is apparently woefully inaccurate." Which bothers you a lot. You're one of the people responsible for interpreting every tome in the archive. How much else do humans have wrong?

Deku nods. "I know it's not very helpful, but we don't hate humans. The elders pity your lack of connection to wild magic, but that's a sentiment that's fading with the younger generations."

"And what do you think of us?"

The Fae pauses, his head tilted askew as he ponders your question. You have the urge to take it back before he replies suddenly, his teeth flashing in a grin that makes your stomach flip and promptly fall into your feet:

"I don't care about other humans. I care about you."

You swallow hard. You're completely unprepared for the weight of his tone. It's all you can do to remember to breathe normally as panic and excitement go to all-out war. You're vaguely aware that you've been warned about this: Fae rely on glamour magic to conceal their true selves while among humans. The closer you are to one and the longer you spend there, the more likely you are to fall for it. This isn't him, you say to yourself in a firm tone. You're seeing a spell. And yet you remain rooted to the spot amid the molasses-thick silence, his emerald eyes transfixed on you like he's trying to bore himself right down to your soul. Logic is no longer enough to make yourself move, to speak, to do anything but watch him with deep fascination. Part of you doesn't want to move at all, and you're vaguely aware that your lack of fear should probably be some kind of warning sign.

He suddenly pushes himself off the altar and lands on his feet, cat-like and eerily graceful, his hand extended to help you up as well. You take it and are immediately shocked by how rough his palm is under your fingers. He doesn't look old enough to have gone through years of hard labor, but his hands tell a completely different story. You frown at your palms where they're flattened together, his weathered fingers draped gently around the side of your hand. He radiates heat like a stone dock in summer. Even with a foot or two between you, you have to wrestle down the urge to step closer and draw yourself into the warmth that surrounds him.

He leans far enough to get your attention and flashes you another dazzling smile (you're not insane, he can't feel even warmer now how is that even possible). "I have a present for you," he chirps. A hand disappears into his satchel and reappears a moment later with a long piece of rich emerald silk. You can't help but beam until your cheeks ache: the delicate gold embroidery along its edges is identical to what is on the linen scarf you've held onto for all these years. The delicate silk threads are woven into a river of shiny deep green that pools around your fingers in feather-light ripples. It's clearly worth more than anything you've ever owned and everything you currently own combined, adding an extra level of surreal that has your head slightly spinning.

"I embroidered it myself," he says, pride radiating through his words. He holds it up with an encouraging nod toward you. "May I?"

It takes your brain a few seconds to catch up with what's happening, but when it does you nod slowly. He closes the gap between you in one slow step and oh, you aren't ready for the scent of earth and pine that radiates from him and the crackle of something intangible that hits you like a mallet once you're nearly standing chest to chest.

The scarf is draped over your shoulders in a single flourish. He secures it in an ornate knot at your throat, his knuckles dragging little brushes of electricity across your skin as you do your best to stay still. Gods, whatever glamour he's using is powerful because he's absolutely breathtaking this close. The freckles you remember from so many years ago are still there, softened by the slight tan of his cheeks but still a pronounced constellation under his soft eyes as he smiles down at you with a mind-nymbing warmth.

"Green is your color," he murmurs close enough for you to feel his breath ghosting across your throat. Your heart flies upward and, on a whim you can't wrestle down, you reach for his hand once again to deftly slide your fingers between his. Deku jumps, clearly startled, but he makes no move to pull away or retreat. In fact, he gives your hand a squeeze in return that makes every hair on your body stand on its end. He draws even closer, pressing out every bit of air between you. Your interwoven hands are guided to between your chests, the breeze and ambient noise from outside coming to a dead standstill.

"I never forgot you," he rumbles, eyes half-lidded from the close proximity. "Not for a second."

"I dreamed about you," you whisper back, and the last few inches between you are gone in an instant. You draw in synchronized inhales as a surprisingly strong set of arms wraps around your back. Your own thread around his waist to clutch at the Fae and keep him pressed close with a sudden flash of desperation. He seems to be of the same mind: he kisses you with a ferocity you've never known, demanding and insistent enough that your lungs' cries for oxygen go willfully ignored. When you finally rip apart it's with another unified inhale and a wonble as the world spins on its ear. You can feel yourself grinning despite the shock still numbing out your brain.

A Fae kissed you… and you kissed him back without hesitation. There's something unsaid in the room now and it hangs heavy in his stare, which has once again fixated upon you with trickles of gold dancing along the edges of deep green. You quietly gasp. You've never seen feral magic this close. Shouldn't you be afraid by now?

"Come with me," he breathes out of nowhere. Your knees just about give out from shock. What?

"I'm serious." He holds both your hands under his chin. "I can give you things you don't even know exist. Anything you want, I'll make it happen."

You gape back. It's the sort of dramatic offer you read about in children's books, but never in a thousand years did you think you'd really be offered something like this. "Deku…"

"I know it's a lot," he blurts out. "You've spent your whole life here and I would never want to separate you from the world you know, but if I can find you in the same spot twice I'm sure we can find a way to go back and forth -"

Something in you decided the second he asked. There's no question what your heart wants. You press in again while he's rambling to cut him off with another firm kiss. Deku grunts into it as he's forcibly quieted before a hand gently cradles the back of your head.

You pull away with less ferocity this time and hover in his space, hazy with giddiness. "I didn't say no," you whisper, unable to bring yourself to speak any louder. "But there are things that need to be done in the meantime. I have duties here, Deku."

"We can figure out how to do both," he replies with rapidly growing excitement. The thin gold veins around his irises have begun to overtake the emerald. Your heart thunders as his excitement edges on feral. "Please just consider it. If you want, I can come back this same time next year and we can figure it out from there."

A year seems long enough to your addled brain. "Sure," you wheeze. "One year from tonight."

"One year." Deku nods furtively, but as he lets go of you it's obvious you're not the only one who hates having to do it. He looks to the floor, then to the darkest corner of the room where he'd appeared, then back to you with a smile too heavy for the ones you're used to. "I'll be watching over you. The embroidery of that scarf is kind of powerful, so I'd be careful wearing it around anyone or anything that might pull it."

You look to the fabric tied around your neck and your frown deepens. "What's that supposed to -"

Too late. By the time you look up again he's gone, and the altar in front of you is empty.

---

Part 3

You hold his promise close to your heart and don't breathe a single word of it to anyone, even your mentor. Elspeth would have an absolute fit if she figured out you're planning on not only leaving the temple, but running off with a dryad of all things. And besides that, she doesn't deserve the disrespect of knowing all her years of effort might go to waste. You can't bring yourself to face that very real chance just yet.

You stick to your studies and daily duties as your matron's hearth declines through the year, and nearly a year to the day since Deku's last visit the inevitable comes. Matron Elspeth passes in her sleep with you at her side, holding her hand while humming her favorite hymns until you see her chest rise and fall for the last time. She lived to a blessedly old age, but that doesn't help the fierce tear of grief that rips you open when she's finally gone. Elspeth was essentially your mother along with being your mentor.

And beyond that, if it hadn't been for her, you would have never met Deku.

You head up the organization of her final ceremonies, as is your place. Her pyre is constructed along the edge of the clearing's small lake, a neatly organized stack of wood and highly flammable fabric from the temple with a gap in the middle for her remains. You make sure to include clippings from her favorite lavender box as a final personal farewell.

The pyre is set ablaze with your own torch. This is how it has to be. It's how she sent her mentor off, and it will be how your mentor sends you off as well. You can only hope you've given her the honor she deserves, every decision you've made considered.

You make your way back to the temple alone at sunset while the other attendants remain behind. You need time to think. You've spent every quiet moment that day crying alone. If you don't get a second of true isolation you're going to break in front of half the temple. Elspeth wouldn't like that. You're stronger than your grief, at least for the moment, so you make a beeline for your preferred prayer room and let your feet move in that direction on autopilot, emerald scarf drawn up around your cheeks. You hold it close and will yourself to remain calm until there's a door between you and the rest of the world.

You're running by the time you throw yourself into the altar room and shove the door closed behind you. It lands in its frame with a thunderous BANG that muffles the broken sob that cracks from between the hands you have clutched over your face, along with the shuffling of a second person in the room that had gone unnoticed while you were trying to escape everyone else. A boot heel slides along the marble floor and you whirl around, eyes wide as you peer through the strands of summer dusk that pour through the room's open roof. Your heart flies into your throat with a burst of excitement. "Deku?" you call out, shaking with the urge to throw yourself toward the person as he emerges from the darkest shadowed corner.

But it's not Deku. Elation flips to horror as the lead hunter's son appears with a lecherous grin. He's still a good ten feet away, but you can smell strong booze radiating odd him in nauseating waves. "Why are you here?" you demand. "Only temple attendants are allowed in the prayer spaces alone. You need to leave."

"Do I?" he asks back derisively. Ice floods your veins with his first step. You instinctively shuffle back toward the door. "Because I'm pretty sure I can do what I want. Your temple wouldn't have food without me."

"Without your father," you clarify in a sharp tone. All manners have already been abandoned: this is not the day, and you are not the attendant to bother. You don't want to deal with calling guards or causing a cacophony. You just want to be left alone with your grief.

Your comment makes him clench his jaw. "Without." He takes another heavy step forward, and as he draws closer it becomes apparent how much of a size advantage he has. "Me." He takes another heavy step as your bones ice over. You want to take off, but you're terrified that any sudden movement will just propel him toward you faster, and you're not strong enough to shove the heavy stone door open without a few seconds of effort.

"You're drunk," you point out in hopes of derailing his train of thought. You can feel your pulse thumping hard and fast in your throat. "Go home and sleep it off. I won't tell anyone you were here."

"You think I give a shit f'anyone knows I was here?" he slurs back with increasing volume. "You fuckin' demon worshippers are all th'same, so far up your own ass you wouldn't know a good offer if it kissed you right on th'mouth."

A realization hits you like a brick. "Is this about what happened at my birthday last year?" you ask, using his off-kilter focus to your advantage as you slowly begin to step backward toward the door. "You pushed yourself onto me and wouldn't let me go until I kissed your cheek, then you threatened to drop me off the roof if I didn't accept your marriage proposal on the spot. Do you…" You cut yourself off. Of course he doesn't remember. He'd been just as off his head back then as he is now.

"I was only joking!" he retorts. "Why would I drop m'future wife off a roof? Thasstupid. Y're nuts for thinking I'd actually go through with it."

You successfully baby-step your way to within reach of the carved inlet that serves as the door handle. Just keep him rambling. You can hit him with the door before you take off. "And you're nuts for thinking anyone would immediately accept a marriage offer from someone who reeks like the bottom of an ale barrel."

You know the second you shoot off your mouth that it wasn't a good move. He tenses on the spot, both hands drawn into club-like fists at either side, his stony features pinched with disgust.

"You sayin' you're too good for me, bitch?"

He rushes forward, too fast for you to get the door more than a crack open before he throws a massive shoulder against it to slam it shut once more. You scream as he grabs the front of your robes, praying it echoes down the hall with your heels dug against the floor in a fruitless effort to prevent him from bodily dragging you toward the empty altar. He's far too strong to break away from. Your nails digging into his wrists seems to not even register, even when blood wells under them. "Let go," you plead, wide eyed fixed on the pedestal as he drags you toward it clawing and kicking the whole way.

Nothing seems to faze him. He forces your upper half over the marble pedestal with enough force to knock the wind out of your lungs. You wheeze under the weight of a forearm that presses hard into your upper back, reinforced by extra weight that's too heavy to roll out from under. You struggle the entire time, unwilling to stop, with everything in you that isn't trying to escape screaming toward the Aether for someone, something, anything to see what's going on and intervene. You've spent your whole life serving this temple… why would the Fae abandon you now?

As you flail, a small brown sparrow lands on the edge of the open roof and peers down directly at you two. It chirps once, clear as a bell, and the sound hits something deep and instinctive in your chest.

You aren't given enough time to ponder. He grabs your scarf from behind without warning and the knot instantly digs into your windpipe as he yanks the garment back in an attempt to rip it off of you. You sputter and flail your hands to signal for him to let go, to warn him of the danger that lingers in your head with Deku's last warning, but it's not enough.

You hear a piece of embroidery thread snap somewhere in his closed fist. A gust of humid air blasts across you and the weight above you disappears immediately, followed by a nauseating crunch of bones breaking amid the shatter of cracked marble. You wail in fear, clutching to the warmth that had drifted through you with both arms over your head as you sob into the marble. You can't bring yourself to move yet.

Where are you? You said you'd be watching out for me…

You finally force yourself upright once you begin to lose circulation in your arms. You wipe your face, sniffling quietly as you turn. You nearly collapse as a petrified shriek rips itself out of your chest: the hunter had been thrown back against the marble wall next to the door with enough force to crater it inward. His unmoving frame is slumped over in the center amid a splash of red that drips heavily off the jagged edges around him.

It isn't the wall that grabs your attention, though: his tunic has been ripped with several round puncture wounds arranged in a rough circle, the apparent source of the blood pooling at his sides. You tremble from head to toe despite the summer breeze coursing through the room. The longer you stare at the hunter's chest wounds and the way they're arranged, the more they begin to look like…

"Antler wounds."

You smack a hand over your mouth like you'd just hexed someone. He really had been watching out… somehow. What kind of magic had gone into your scarf's embroidered edge? You run your fingers over it, seeking out the thread that snapped. The wind dies out in time for you to hear another set of feet shuffling in the room. It's almost too much; you nearly faint with the panic that latches around your throat. You sway back toward the altar to use for leverage as your knees once again threaten to buckle and are bolstered by a rough set of hands that press against your shoulder blades to keep you upright.

You're too strung out to do anything but gape as Deku - the real one, the same one from the year before with his antlers and freckles and big, terrifying green eyes oh gods he's finally here - steps around and immediately yanks you against his chest. You cling back with both arms circled tight around his ribs and let out another ragged sob into the soft fabric of his cloak.

"Are you okay?" he rumbles. You can only nod back and clutch him like he's keeping you anchored to the ground. You feel his head turn above yours, toward the cracked wall and what remains of the hunter, and a low growl vibrates through him. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I tried to get here as fast as I could." You feel his arms tighten around your upper half, boxing you in and insulating you from the sight behind him.

"You saved me," you manage to choke back. "You don't have to apologize for anything." You step back far enough to wipe at your eyes and clear your sinuses, trembling like a leaf in the circle of his arms. "What was that? What attacked him?"

Deku's mouth draws into a tense line. "I can't tell you," he replies. "But I know someone who can." You blink, confused by his ambivalence. "Have you considered what we talked about last year?"

…What? "Of course I have," you retort. Your head hurts. Where's that spiced wine when you need it? "But I hardly think this is a time to talk about-"

"No no no, think about it," Deku cuts in hurriedly. "I don't mean this in a threatening way at all, but the people of your village are going to get suspicious when someone turns up dead with a set of puncture wounds to the chest."

Your entire body numbs out with panic. He's right. Your gaze snaps to the top of his head, where a set of now fully grown antlers jut out of his wild verdant curls. You begin to count how many points they have, but shove the impulse away with disgust. You don't want to know. Even if you did, it's probably for the best to remain ignorant for now.

Voices echo through the open roof from somewhere beyond, possibly the temple courtyard. "I have to go," he says with a hint of genuine hurt. "They can't find me."

This is too much. The decision to leave was always supposed to be planned out. You've had an entire year to get everything ready, only to have your plans shattered into jagged chunks of broken marble by a drunk hunter and some creature powerful enough to kill him with velocity alone. You clutch yourself to his chest again as panic grips your throat with white-hot claws. "We'll find a way to come back, right?" you whisper with a silent prayer of hope to the entire cosmos.

He nods. "I swear it on my name." He pushes you gingerly by the shoulders so he can look you in the face again, his own tense with mounting anxiety. "We have to go now, my sparrow. Please… I'm begging you, come with me. I don't want to go back without you again." His hands tighten over your shoulders as tears well up along the edges of his wide green eyes. "Please."

It feels like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and flung out through the open roof. You open your mouth to blurt out some pained apology for making him assume you'd say no, the voices outside growing louder and clearer in the pause, but can only choke around a whimper as everything you want to say jams in your throat. Instead you simply nod, a single weak incline of your head.

That's all it takes for him to scoop you around the waist again and drag you both sideways toward the corner where he appeared. "You might be kind of shocked when we get through," he warns as he hurls you both toward the marble seam you're convinced is going to split your head open on contact. "Hold your breath!"

The command is sharp enough to make your lungs draw in a deep inhale without conscious thought. Your eyes snap shut as your forehead approaches the shadowed corner; it meets only an icy wall of air as the lights beyond your closed eyelids pitches black. You can feel Deku holding you around the waist, an anchor that keeps you tethered to your own sanity as he rushes you through the dark at breakneck pace. The icy rush whipping against your face seems to deplete the lungful of air you're still stubbornly holding onto and within seconds they're screaming for relief. Deku smacks a hand over your mouth just when you think you're going to break and try to take a breath, and a second later you're both tumbling across the stone floor of an unfamiliar but warm kitchen.

---

Part 4

The second your head stops spinning long enough to see again, you realize there's a woman standing between you and Deku. You weakly recognize the faded emerald of the hair she has trimmed neatly at her shoulders. You glance her over and realize with a jump that the skin you can see around her modest summer dress is a pale shamrock green.

"By the gods, who's chasing you now?"

You blink from where you've landed in a sprawl sprawl against an ornately carved kitchen cabinet, too dizzy from the rush of air that fills your lungs when you take a greedy inhale to answer immediately (even though the question was clearly directed at Deku, who landed upside down with his long legs arched over his head against a stone hearth in a corner of the kitchen). You take another breath, but the bottoms of your lungs feel heavy like they've been filled with a thick gas. Deku slumps over to right himself and immediately looks to you. You're beginning to breathe faster as exhaustion gives way to panic.

The woman turns, fixing you with a look of shock that probably rivals your own. She's a spitting image of Deku, down to the ear points that poke out of her silver-streaked hair and the way her eyes go impossibly wide with genuine emotion. "You're human!" she exclaims.

You nod back, too panicked to form proper words. "Oh… oh, you're human!"

She jumps into motion like she'd just been zapped by a bolt of lightning. She procures a large wooden bowl from a cabinet and fills it with a few handfuls of herbs snatched from dried bundles hanging over the hearth, then steaming water from a kettle that she carefully pulls out from its resting place in the coals. She mutters something in a lilt you can't follow as the bowl is set on the floor in front of you, the woman following suit to kneel on the other side. "Lean down and breathe through the steam," she instructs gently, tilting down to encourage the motion. "The air here is different from the other side. You need to coat your lungs before they start rejecting the pollen floating around."

You tilt forward with a choked noise of panic and take as deep of a breath as you can with the steaming water wafting up across your face. Relief finds you immediately: you can draw a breath all the way to the bottom of your lungs, which takes the edge off your panic enough to finally slow down your respiration rate.

"There you go," the woman encourages gently. She rests a small, comforting hand between your shoulders that's shockingly cold for how warm the kitchen is. "You should be fine now." She turns to give her son an exasperated look. "You brought a human back without giving her anything to prepare?"

"I didn't have a choice!" Deku pleads back. "It was that or risk an entire war on their side-"

The woman holds up a hand to stop him and Deku immediately obeys. "Hold on," she says slowly, turning back to look at you with both brows raised. Her gaze drops to your neck and freezes. "You're the temple girl, the one he's been going to see."

The room goes silent, spare the crackling of the fireplace and your own rapid heartbeat. The older dryad watches, still as stone as she takes you in with one long look before staring at the fabric around your neck once more. All you can do is nod back. something akin to pain flashes across her face and she sits up with a fond smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but I think it might be best if you let my son explain a majority of them over some tea. You look exhausted."

My son. "So you're Deku's mother?"

The dryad wrinkles her nose. "Yes," she replies stiffly. "Though I very much dislike his chosen name. It's undignified." She turns to Deku again. "You haven't given her your name yet?"

Deku waves his hands in front of him and goldfishes for a response before you cut in. "It's not his fault," you quickly counter. "I didn't want to offer mine. I was raised in a temple that had some pretty strict rules against that in particular."

"Understandable. Though I can't say I'm thrilled at the prospect of my own son having courted someone for nearly an entire year-" (Courted, what!?) "-Without even having offered his name."

"I did offer it!"

His mother chuckles. "I have to fetch someone who will be of much more significant counsel than I, but that will give you two some time to settle in."

You nod in acknowledgment, but her words don't really process in your brain. Now that you're breathing normally again, exhaustion has begun to creep into your bones. You'd been going on fumes before the hunter decided to ambush you, and now that you've quietly literally been flung through a Fae circle it's hard to do anything but lean against the cabinet. The dryad brushes her hand over your shoulder as she passes on her way out. "My name is Inko" echoes through your own head with the contact, jarring you into a sharp yelp, which only makes her chuckle in the same light-as-air way as Deku.

"Well… this is a hell of a way to meet someone's parents."

Said dryad has found his feet and is watching you with a sheepish smile, a hand absently scratching at the base of an antler. "At least it's over now?"

Your head thumps back against the cabinet. This is too much. You need to sleep. If you don't find somewhere to lay down soon, your body is going to give out. "Could we just…" You glance around the kitchen and into the room beyond, where another hearth flickers around a circle of ornately carved wooden den furniture. Perfect.

He follows your line of sight and seems to catch on without you having to finish your request. He moves toward you, arms extended to help you to your feet. When you wobble upon standing he immediately seams your sides up to take a gentle lead toward the sitting room. The furniture all looks hand-carved, the seats made up of soft animal hides that look older than both of you. He lays you down on the longest bench with a small blanket under your head for a pillow, the deerhide that's draped over the back of the sofa gently pulled across you for a proper blanket.

"We can talk later." He leans down to press a kiss to your temple. You groan as he turns to move away, an arm shooting out from under the hide to grab his tunic and hold him in place.

"Wait," you plead quietly, fatigue tugging heavily at your eyelids. "Please stay with me, at least until I fall asleep." You have no idea where you are or how long you'll be out. All you know is Deku being gone means you're here alone and you absolutely cannot bear that thought.

A soft smile breaks across his face. "Of course," he murmurs back. "Anything you need, just like I promised." You scoot to make room and he steps over to fit himself between you and the back of the sofa without prompting. This is what you really needed: a space heater behind you, a fire in front, and a strong arm draping itself over your midsection to hold the knotted ends of your scarf as you both drift off. If nothing else, Deku has more than proven he'll kill anything that comes near you… or at least has access to something that can.

He's still there when you come to. The lighting in the room hasn't changed when you open your eyes to peer around, and it isn't until now that you notice neither the kitchen nor den have any windows. The fire has burned down to a low pile of flickering embers, which means you were at least out long enough to burn through what had been there earlier. With no view of the sun, however, it's impossible to tell how long you were out.

Your stirring rouses Deku, who grunts in his sleep and pulls you back into his chest. The arm cradled under yours has turned an eerie cold. When it registers you sit up to face him, concerned until it snaps into another bolt of shock.

You yelp and fall off the edge of the sofa. Deku's skin has turned a shade of green identical to his mother's, his freckles standing out in sharp contrast. He bolts upright as well, looking around for the source of the panic before he spots you on the floor, half covered by the deer hide you'd accidentally tugged with you. "What's wrong?" he asks urgently, glancing around again.

"You're…"

He gives you a puzzled look, then glances down to where you're staring at his forearms. "Oh!" His hands rub absently at the opposite forearm as his cheeks flush ever so slightly. "Uh… yeah. I told you you might be a little shocked."

Shit. You did it again. You push yourself up to scoot onto the end of the sofa near his feet, and he respectfully folds his legs up to his chest to give you room without having to make contact. It's a gesture you appreciate, but not one you (or him) necessarily need. You sidle up to his shins, where you lean your side with your hands acting as a chin rest on his knees.

"Surprised is more the word," you clarify before poking your tongue out at him playfully. "A little advance notice would have been nice."

"Hey now," Deku chuckles. "I tried. We had a solid plan going there for a minute." He reaches a hand forward and, with a twitch of hesitation, shifts a lock of hair off your forehead and behind an ear. His fingertips are ice cold, a sharp juxtaposition to the warmth in his tone and the care with which he brushes across your skin. "I'm glad you're here, regardless of how it came to be. I've thought of you every single day since my last visit."

How had anyone mistaken dryads for monsters? If the others are a fraction as kind as Deku and his mother, then they've been handed a grave injustice when it comes to human comprehension of their kind. You lean your head toward his hand and he opens his fingers. Your cheek brushes against his weathered palm, eliciting a shiver that courses down your back as the temperature of his skin clashes against the warmth of the den. For a long moment you simply exist, anchored by the green stare fixed upon your own and the callused thumb that smooths over your cheek. Whatever it takes for you to keep this kind of tenderness around will be well worth the effort. You've already decided (long ago, you silently realize) that he is the only one you ever want to be this close to you.

"Do I make you nervous?"

You're taken back to the altar room for a moment as you recall the image of Deku sitting on the pedestal, bathed in pale light with the cicadas humming behind his ethereal laugh. "No," you reply truthfully, hushed and reverent in the slowly disappearing space between you as you both lean forward. Both your eyelids lower as you both lean closer. It's a chaste contact when Deku leans in to kiss you, as soft as his tone and the way he brushes the rest of your hair from the side of your face. Within a few seconds, the soft contact is enough to have you melting against his hand.

A deep male voice breaks the reverie from somewhere behind Deku: "Ah, excuse us…"

This time you both jump hard enough to nearly land on your asses. Deku pushes himself back until he thumps against the arm rest of the sofa as Inko enters the room, followed by what can only be described as a mountain of a man with wild goldenrod hair and deep-set sclera black eyes, their vivid contrasting pupils locked directly on you as he and the dryad approach.

"I hate to be a bother and intrude on such a formative moment, but Inko was insistent upon checking to make sure you're both still alive." He bows his head in deep apology. You're startled by how easily he seems to hold himself level with the massive antlers jutting out of his hair; they're taller than his head and several inches wider on either side. As you force yourself to not take count of the antler points, you vaguely wonder to yourself how he fits through doorways or in anything less than giant-sized.

Deku rises to his feet, and you quickly follow suit. "Ahh, this is my father," he says quickly. "I get the feeling you two are going to be fast friends."

"If you're willing to risk traversal sickness for her, she's got to be worth her weight in gold," the man booms back. He approaches with a hand the size of a serving platter toward you, the deep lines of his face bent around a beaming grin you recognize on the spot. "My name is Yagi Toshinori. Don't worry, it's safe to introduce yourself to me. I'm not Fae."

You twitch your head to the side but take his hand to shake it anyway, suddenly flummoxed. "But the antlers…"

"A by-product of the life I've found for myself." He lifts an arm as Inko steps up to his side and lays it over her back. It's kind of amusing to see such a small woman under the arm of a moving mountain, but the care with which he moves about her is heart-warmingly familiar. "All by choice, zero regrets."

The two of them take a seat on a smaller bench in the den, and you and Deku take your seats once they're both settled. "The drop in is rough, eh? That ice tunnel is awful."

You frown back. "How did you find this place?"

"I didn't find this place." He puts his arm behind Inko's neck, who leans into him with an appreciative hum. "I found my wife first. She's the one who brought me here."

You can't help but laugh, and mercifully the other three join in. "That sounds familiar," you reply through a chuckle.

"It happens less than it used to, but it's not unheard of," Inko adds. "I had a feeling my son would be following in my footsteps."

There's just enough flatness to her words that you squirm on the spot. "I hope that's not a bad thing," Deku says as he draws himself closer to your side. "Unless my logic is severely flawed, there wouldn't be a son to follow in your footsteps if you hadn't done it first."

Yagi lets out an undignified snort. Inko tries to frown, but it breaks around a smile as she nods in defeat. "All the same, I wish this hadn't been so sudden," she adds. "Not that I'm upset you're here now-" She holds a hand up quickly toward you. "-It was just rather abrupt. I wish we could have had time to prepare a proper welcome."

You glance down to your lap. "Deku saved me from something terrible," you respond quietly. "We didn't really have a choice in the matter." You look up again to offer the older dryad an encouraging smile. "Though rest assured he's been nothing but respectful the entire time I've known him." You bow your head politely. "Your hospitality is much appreciated. Thank you for giving me shelter."

Something behind Inko's eyes softens enough to make your heart twist. She watches you for a long moment, studying you as you do your best to not squirm. "The door has been opened for this place to potentially become your home," she replies to break the silence. "No need to speak of it as a foreign place. You already belong."

You feel Deku draw in a sharp breath. When you glance up to him he's hastily wiping his eyes on the back of his free hand. "Don't mind me," he chirps with a slight tremble. "This is normal. Been a crybaby since I was a sapling."

"You are not a crybaby," Yagi jabs back as he casually swipes a thumb under one of his eyes. "You have a heart."

And I wonder where he gets it, you think to yourself as you lean into Deku's side to comfort him.

The situation that brought Deku's parents together is so similar to your own it's almost eerie: Toshinori had been a well-known hunter from another village who found himself "lost" during an extended journey into the forest; in reality, he'd been lured away from the village so a team of rogues could take him out and claim his hunting grounds. He reached out for Inko, who'd already been coming around in a similar fashion to Deku responding to your meditation, and she answered by snaring the entire group in a wave of venom-thorned vines before sweeping him through a circle and away from the chaos. They were married within a year, and Deku came along a few years after that.

"It's oddly romantic, when you take out the death-by-murder-vine part," you offer to keep the mood light. All three of them laugh, especially Inko, who chortles behind her hand until her cheeks turn pink.

Something is digging at you, though. You can't let the entire moment go without at least trying to ask. "You said you're human," you repeat to Yagi. "But you also say the antlers come from magic. I thought we couldn't access magic."

"We can't," he replies casually. Thank goodness, you'd been incredibly nervous about broaching such a personal subject. "Not by default, at least. Humans haven't earned the right as a whole. However, sometimes things happen and the magic itself chooses someone who might be worth it." He nods toward the scarf tied around your neck. "Not just anyone can affect a connection through something like that. It takes something predetermined by forces beyond our control for that connection to be forged at all."

The air in your lungs evaporates. "So this was fate."

Yagi nods sagely. "Yes, as was me coming here. We aren't the first, and we won't be the last." He jabs a finger at Deku, who's taken to clinging to your side like a newborn bear cub. "His antlers, however, come from a direct blood connection to feral magic. He's full dryad, and it'll be even more apparent once he's eventually the most powerful one."

The world screeches to a halt amid Yagi's beaming pride. You feel Deku go very, very still next to you. "Um… I beg your pardon?"

"The Ascendant," Inko answers. "There is a thread of feral magic more concentrated than anything else recorded in our history. It chooses who it resides within, and whoever that force chooses is essentially the most powerful being in our charted world." She inclines her head toward her son. "And one day that will be him."

You look between the two of them, then back to Yagi. "So that means you're the Ascendant."

"For the moment. My time is coming to an end soon. I've served my purpose, so it's time for the next cycle to begin."

"You don't mean…"

Yagi's eyes go wide. "Oh no no no, I'm not going to die, dear," he booms. "It's time for me to pass along my power. I'm fortunate to have a successor in time, and it would seem like this little excursion is a good indicator he might be prepared for it."

"We don't know that," Deku cuts in, and it isn't until now that you notice how flushed his cheeks are. "It'll happen if it's meant to happen, right?" You lay a hand on his knee that's immediately covered by one of his own. He sags into your side in quiet gratitude.

Inko nods. "And it hasn't happened yet, so we won't fret about it for now." Her tone is soft, but there's a comforting finality ronit that effectively ends the subject for discussion.

You're given a tour of their house, which Deku fervently clarifies is not the place where he's lived for several years (Inko replies with a smug "And yet there's almost always a third plate at the table", which seems to be more than enough for him to take a back seat with his dad and let Inko lead them around). She walks you through the lower floor, where several cozy bedrooms are situated around a circular pit set into the floor. The center is full of a myriad of cushions and pillows in an eye-catching pile of patterns and colors all jumbled together in a space wide enough to fit at least three Yagis with extra foot room. "You can pick any of the empty rooms for yourself," Inko says to you sweetly before shooting a pointed look toward her son, who drops his head and shuffles anxiously on the spot. "But I ask that you remain in yours. I know you're grown, but this is my-"

Deku squirms harder. "Yep, got it," he confirms hastily. It's clear there's literally anything else he'd rather be talking about. "Can we start dinner? I'm starving."

Your stomach audibly rumbles at the mention of food. Yes, that's an excellent idea for more than one reason. When is the last time you ate? If you can't remember, it's probably been way too long. Yagi sweeps everyone toward the stairs with both arms stretched to herd them forward. You silently thank him with a smile as he squeezes your shoulder on the way past.

Four people working at once means dinner is made with a quickness, something you're intensely grateful for when you finally sit down to ea. Your stomach hurts from lack of food so much it almost hurts more to eat until you've got enough sustenance in you to level out. You see to the tableware afterward as Deku cleans what remains of the kitchen mess. The other two take their leave for the night with one last round of greeting, Inko's eyes trained on her son as she warns him about "straying past boundaries" on the way toward the stairs, her husband chortling the whole time.

You and Deku wait in silence until a door audibly opens and closes again. "Well," Deku chirps as he turns to face you with an equally cheeky grin. "I guess I'll bid you goodnight here as well. I'll show you where I live tomorrow, once we've both had a chance to sleep." He takes your hand and kisses the back of it with a dramatic bow. "Sweet dreams, my sparrow."

You snort and take your hand back, but not before giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "Good night, Deku." His grin turns sly as he moves off to his own room, leaving you to find the smallest unoccupied bedroom for yourself.

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Part 5

The next morning both Inko and Yagi see you both out, the former not allowing her son to leave the house before he's verbally promised to come by soon (and in a hushed whisper to keep you safe). It isn't until you're outside that the lack of windows is explained: the front of Inko's home is set underneath the roots of a gargantuan tree that juts straight up toward the sky in a massive straight line. You peer upward toward the canopy, but it's so far above the other trees the bare trunk is swallowed by the forest crown on all sides with no way to see beyond. The house sits at the head of a narrow trail with more angled trees visible down the road. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get settled," he reminds, offering you a bent elbow.

You smile and slip a hand onto his forearm. You take the short walk to his home in lockstep, Deku's skin cooler in the open breeze where it brushes under your fingers. The air is heavy with humidity and the chill of a light fog that hovers over the trail as you walk down it, bugs chirping and creaking from the grass on either side of the path. It's… idyllic.

Deku's house is almost identical to Inko's, but it's only a single floor and houses, much to your delight, a natural spring under the kitchen. He waves you toward it with a grin and something about a fresh tunic, but that devious little glint in his eye is back when he meanders off to change his clothes as you see yourself downstairs.

The hot spring is a deep pool in its own room with a shallow end that slopes up to the water's edge. The torch-illuminated rock wall behind it shimmers with a stream of water that runs down from somewhere above and down into the pool in a soft, trickling wall, next to a sitting area has been carved out of the rock to the right side of the pool. You dig out a couple of towels and a robe made of butter-soft material from a cabinet before ridding yourself of your dirty temple garb and every garment underneath it, your prized scarf folded lovingly on top of the pile before everything gets placed in a basket next to the edge of the pool. You can't bring yourself to leave the scarf somewhere out of arm's reach, and your robes are the last real thing you own.

The water is hot when you step onto the shallowest shelf, not enough to burn but definitely enough to pull a groan of satisfaction from you as you eagerly step in until you're submerged to your bare chest. Every muscle in your back begins to unclench themselves within seconds. You sink lower into the water, past your chin with a slow inhale and all the way down until your knees touch the stone floor of the pool. Everything goes quiet in a rush of water: it fills your ears and drowns out everything else but the odd bubble of warmth you've found below the water's surface. Your nerves balm themselves over for the first time since flying through the ring amid the trickling quiet. I's just you here, with no one else to drop another surprise on you. You stay submerged as long as you can before pushing back up to breach the surface with a satisfied gasp, your head clearer than it's been for days.

You wipe at your face to clear your eyes of excess water and the first thing you see is Deku hovering at the edge of the shallow bank, a towel slung low over his hips. You yelp and jump back amid a slosh of water, partially out of shock and partially to keep yourself from immediately staring at his bare torso. It isn't enough to stave off the newfound knowledge that he's built like a sprint courier and that he's very, very much naked under the towel. "Gods, you've got to quit startling me," you whimper as you swipe a wet hand over your face.

Deku laughs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. To be fair, you were underwater when I opened the door."

You grouse back, but it has no heat. He's right.

"Can I join you?"

Your playful frown turns genuine. "I thought that was understood."

"You didn't say I could come close. You're vulnerable right now. If you tell me to stay out, I will."

"You're very polite for someone who's already stripped down."

His cheeks flush bright pink. "I was hopeful," he replies in an obvious attempt to be aloof, but it doesn't quite mesh with the way he keeps jerking his gaze away from the surface of the water (and, you realize with a bolt of mortification, a clear enough view of your naked form for him to definitely see). "But I meant what I said."

The urge to test him and see what happens flashes through you, but it doesn't seem worth the effort. At the end of it all, you do want him to come closer. You step toward him, willing yourself to keep moving as the water lowers enough to expose your chest. Deku seems equally dead-set on keeping his eyes raised, your flushes a matching shade of garish pink now and getting deeper as you come within arm's reach of him and offer a hand.

"Please?"

His hesitation snaps in an instant. Deku throws the towel aside and hurtles toward the pool, only giving you barely enough time to step aside and avoid the splash of water that cascades over you. He resurfaces and shakes his hair out before turning to face you, grinning from ear to ear. "Am I dreaming? Is this really happening?"

Given your own doubts, there's only one real way to tell. You take the initiative and glide toward him in two long steps and snake your arms around his neck. As soon as you're in reach he pulls you in by the waist and kisses the air right out of your lungs. You break away for a breath, but as soon as you've gotten it he tugs you again and the kiss quickly grows sharper with edges of teeth that clack together every time one of you readjusts your head. A hand pushes into your hair to cradle the back of your head; when you tilt into the angle of his hand he presses his tongue past your lips and all bets are off.

The delicacy with which he's touched you so far is gone. Deku kisses like he's been starved of contact for years on end. You give back everything you're given with enthusiasm until you're both struggling to inhale. A dam has been broken: every bit of excitement, fear, doubt, and loneliness that's eaten at you over the years rushes forth in a tidal wave and it's all you can do to cling to him and hope you're not going to wake up in your own bed at any second.

You finally separate with a wet pop. The both of you hover close enough to brush together as you struggle to regain some composure. Deku sighs quietly, his chest still rising and falling hard enough to disturb the water around him. "So I'm not dreaming," he says quietly. "Good. I dunno if I could have handled waking up without you again."

His admission wobbles around a thread of genuine hurt that has you pulling him into a tight hug, your arms wrapped around him tight. You circle your fingernails over the backs of his shoulders in lazy circles. "You don't have to," you murmur into his ear. "We're both here now." Which, wow that's a wild truth, but it's a truth nonetheless.

Deku clings back with his face buried in the crook of your neck. A silence lapses with only trickling water to fill the gap. There's no need for either of you need to say anything: there's a wealth of communication in the reciprocal drags of his nails, the tiny ghosting pecks he leaves under your ear, the little sighs when you drag your nails up toward his neck. You're more than aware of the fact that there's something hard pressing into your lower stomach that definitely isn't his abs, but your curiosity can wait.

He doesn't seem to agree. The pecks along your throat lengthen into full kisses as he settles above the thump of your pulse. A faint drag of teeth makes you jump and he muffles a laugh into your neck. "So jumpy," he purrs.

You give him a nip to an earlobe in retaliation. He jumps on the spot as you chuckle into his ear: "Who's jumpy?"

That seems to hit a switch. You're pulled up and out of the water in one unceremonious grab as Deku hauls you over a shoulder. Your yelp echoes off the walls but he pays them no mind, spare a wet smack to your bare ass. He doesn't leave you with any other real option besides being hauled out of the spring and up the stairs once again.

His room is somewhere deep in the house. It's impossible to ascertain exactly what anything looks like while you're slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, so when he shuts the door of a bedroom warmed by a crackling floor pit it's a bit of a shock.

You fully expect to be thrown down, but instead he braces you under the knees and neck to set you on an impossibly soft blanket stretched across his bed. He steps back, a look of apprehension on his features when they come back into view. "As much as I want this," he says as your sense of gravity corrects itself. "I won't touch you unless you want me to. That was rather… abrupt, and I apologize for it."

It takes a second for you to realize why he's even apologizing. The guilt twisting across his face is what makes it click: you hadn't told him to pick you up. It's your turn to frown as you lean toward him. "I'm not mad," you offer gently. "But I appreciate your apology. It's okay. I want to be here."

Deku's apprehension ebbs, but doesn't completely disappear. "You give me your word?"

You nod without hesitation. His smile returns immediately, radiant amid the firelight, and your stomach flips with elation as he eagerly closes the distance between you.

He settles low between your spread knees, a solid weight that keeps you in place without much room to breathe, let alone think. You're dizzy with the intensity, but you kiss him back with every bit of fervor you're given. Deku groans against your flattened tongues. "Can I taste you?"

You nod without opening your eyes and the weight above you slides downward. It's definitely for the best that you hadn't watched him move: a long, hot tongue drags up your slit and draws your back up off the bed in a graceful arc. He seizes you around the waist with a muffled groan.

He takes you apart with a ferocity that's almost scary. Sharp dives of his tongue punctuate the moments he's not wrapped around your core, alternating every time your wails start to get louder or shake apart. You grip at the blanket above your head for an anchor, but abandon it in favor of the verdant curls on top of his head when a cruel twist of his tongue has you pushing nearly all the way off the bed.

His name flying past your lips mixes with a weak moan from the juncture where his face is buried. "Watch the horns," he whimpers (gods, it shouldn't be so hot to hear someone's voice crack). "But do that again."

You tighten your grip obligingly. His head pulls ever so slightly against your grip when he returns to devouring you with a newfound focus. Something thick prods past your folds and you jerk your head up in surprise, but it's a critical mistake. You're afforded a full view of him with his tongue pressed flat to your core and two thick fingers burying themselves to the thickest knuckle and it rips you right over the edge before you can even draw a breath.

He coaxes you through it, drinking you down with your thighs wedged directly over his ears. When you can finally move them away, you're almost concerned you might have hurt him. But then he sits up, his chin shining in the dim light with a wet grin planted just above it, and there's absolutely no doubt he was just as into it as you were. Your own grin edges on feral. "You gonna stop there, or are you gonna take care of yourself as well?"

Deku snorts with an edge of derision that has you shivering. "You think I'm done with you?"

Oh.

He's back in position with one sharp swoop. This time he throws either leg over his own, splaying your knees wide around his ribs. A wave of self-awareness punches you square in the gut as he drags his eyes down the length of your exposed frame. "Incredible," he breathes. "I've never seen anything as beautiful as you."

You squirm, but will yourself to remain still. It's almost too much. There's so much tenderness behind the wild thrum shaking through him you're not sure how you even deserve it. Thankfully, his patience seems to run out just as your resolve to remain still snaps. He kisses you again as something thicker presses into you, drawing out a prolonged moan from both of you that breaks off when your laps settle together. "Hang on," Deku grunts hard against your lips. "N-need a second."

He's shaking under your arms where they're circled around his neck, but that could very easily also be you. "Yeah. Gods, Deku, you're-"

"Izuku."

The entire room goes still. He locks eyes with you, his own blown wide with only a ring of gold-flecked emerald left. Fear jumps across them while his throat bibs around a hard swallow. "That's my name. I just want you to have it. You don't have to give me yours."

Fear twists your heart for just a beat before it's replaced by a heavy warmth. You reach a hand up toward his face where it hovers just above yours, tentative and soft, the finger that curls his hair behind an ear ever so gentle. "Soon," you whisper back.

Izuku beams. "I'll wait as long as it takes."

Your lips crash together again, both of them curved upward around matching smiles. Izuku sets up a pace that keeps you close while still allowing him to take the lead and kiss the air out of your lungs, skin softly popping together with shallow thrusts without stopping. He has each hip in hand again with a grip that slowly increases with his breathing. Before long you're both panting into each other's ear, your head thrown back while he worries your throat with his teeth and grunts with barely restrained need.

"Won't last long," he rumbles.

You nod your acknowledgment. You've been a puddle since the second he laid you on the bed and took you apart like a prized garment. It's only fair he ends up just as boneless as you. You set your knees around his ribs to lift yourself into him, but both knees are pushed to the bed just as quickly. Izuku is watching where your bodies meet with a feverish focus. He doesn't seem entirely aware that he's got you completely splayed open but he thrusts hard and deep anyway, guttural noises punching out of him in time with the snapping of wet skin.

He finds an angle that seems to hit right up into your midsection and it's all over. He rips a wail out of you before your mouths are sealed together again, his pace unrelenting. You fall apart hard enough to make your entire frame quake under his grip, which has tightened enough to leave deep bruises where his fingers dig into your thighs. Just when it feels like you might actually have to tap out or risk going unconscious he thrusts in one more time with a sharp growl, then another, then a final one deep in his chest as he rolls himself into your hips and finally paints your insides white hot.

You're both trembling like leaves when he finally collapses on top of you again. You run your nails through the damp curls over his temples as he returns the favor along your hips, idle and tender despite the harsh bruises you can feel blooming along your inner thighs. Your breathing comes back slowly as you lazily kiss through the aftershocks, hands never ceasing in their wandering. It's a perfect feedback loop of calm and relief with only the fire to witness in the otherwise empty house.

As your breathing returns to normal you nudge Izuku up enough to meet his eyes. They've gone back to their normal emerald, the flicker of the fire catching hair-thin veins of gold. With the curved points of his horns looming overhead and flush-kissed shamrock skin, he should be some kind of intimidating. Instead, you can't stop staring at him. He's ethereal, more so than anything you've ever seen in any tome or heard in any story. He's real. He's flesh and bone and big, soft eyes and a heart entirely too warm for a creature who could take down minotaurs bare-handed.

And yet he looks at you like you're made of Faerie porcelain.

The corners of your mouth curl upward. You beckon for him to lean forward again and he does so, seemingly as transfixed as you. You pull him down so your lips can brush the shell of his ear and, after a ghosting kiss to his cheek, you whisper your name.

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku imagines #bnha imagines #bnha smut #bnha server collab #citrus dome collabs #my fics

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apparitionism · 3 years

Text

Run 7a

This is the first installment of a two-part part. The second half is done, but it needs a couple more passes... not that it’s ever going to sing, but I’d like it to at least talk sense. Anyway, the AU basics here are as follows: Myka and Helena met each other and enjoyed a brief affair of great intensity; Myka thought Helena betrayed her; Helena is now attempting to make amends for what she didn’t at the time see as a betrayal; Myka doesn’t have any idea Helena is doing the atonement polka and is trying to keep a cold distance from her. The story also has a lot to do with athletic competition, shoes, and running, and what bodies are, and what they can and should do. See part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, and part 6 for all that jazz.

Run 7a

In the elevator, alone: This is what I’m supposed to want, Myka thought. To be alone in this elevator. To be alone, and not with Helena, in this elevator.

Standing near her, with night looming. Night.

Talking: your father, my father. She wanted to ask about Helena’s mother now—wanted to know everything. Wanted to tell about her own mother. Stupid, useless wants. Here is how I became who I am; how did you become who you are?

But she despised who Helena was.

And she despised who she, Myka, was too: nothing but an animal panting with her need to move her body to Helena’s body, to entwine her hands with Helena’s hands, to press her mouth to Helena’s mouth, terrified that her body would betray her by actually panting, by being unable to hold back its legibly, palpably eager and desperate breath.

Was that why Helena had taken that step back and given Myka the elevator? Because she knew enough, had always known enough, about Myka’s body to recognize what it was aching for? Maybe that bottle of Romanian wine really had been nothing but a peace offering; even so, this horrific, breathing need made it all so clear. Myka had to stay far, far away from Helena Wells.

Her clarity now echoed that of the past: the morning after their final confrontation, Myka had risen for her run, pushing breakage and failure from her mind, giving over instead to muscle memory. Put feet on floor; brush teeth; layer on clothing; apply socks, shoes; tie laces; pull hair back; pocket key; all ready, everything else pushed aside.

She had opened her door, however, to find the disaster still sickening before her: jagged bottle-teeth littered the hall, and wine was taking its viscous time souring to vinegar, dark and sticky on the old wood. Of course no one had cleaned it up—most likely, no one had noticed any of it.

What are you doing here.

Leaving, Myka had told herself, placing her soles carefully to avoid the glass. Leaving this minute to run away from it; leaving soon, and sooner if possible, to run far away from it.

The irony now, here, at AAI, was that she had to wait instead of run. She had to hold very still and cling to the idea that not moving would be her escape.

The following day, “hold very still” took the form of accepting a lunch invitation from Giselle, her acceptance accompanied—or, more honestly, prompted—by the unruly thought, At least it’ll keep her away from Helena. Her follow-up thought was, What, really, is your objection to that? Which one do you think you own?

She and Giselle slipped into a crowded “down” elevator at the last instant before its doors closed—at which point Myka nearly threw her hands up in surrender, because of course: Helena. So they shared an elevator space after all... but better, Myka tried to tell herself, better the crowd today than the intimacy that would have been last night. No panting, no temptation.

Or maybe she was wrong about temptation. Helena seemed to send Giselle a meaningful look, the sort of flicking glance that Myka had once taken for hers alone. Giselle returned that look with a flirty smirk. She’d flirty-smirked at Myka plenty of times, but it most likely meant something different when she directed it at Helena. Something far more special.

So much for this lunch keeping Giselle from anything.

“Ladies,” Helena said. She was on Giselle’s right; Myka was on Giselle’s left.

Giselle said, with half a grin, “Oklahoma.”

“Incomprehensible sport reference,” Helena said in a grumble that Myka resented recognizing as half real, half for show.

Giselle shoulder-bumped her. “Listen when I talk: I’m Texas.”

Helena shoulder-bumped back. “I was attempting to respond at least vaguely in kind.”

“Myka, explain sports to her,” Giselle said. “Only so many times I can try.”

Myka had been holding herself back from inserting her body between theirs, a physical Don’t be friendly! shriek of ownership over them both. Now she said, as calmly as she could, “That would not go well.”

“She’s already tried to tell me what shoes are for,” Helena complained to Giselle.

Giselle crossed her arms. “Has she.”

Was Myka trying to get Giselle on her side with what she said next? Probably. But Giselle should have been on her side—on AAI’s side, at least—already. “All I told her was that the public shouldn’t have Deceits.”

“She doesn’t want them in competition either,” was Helena’s next jab.

“I bet she doesn’t,” Giselle said, very mild, to Helena. She turned to Myka. “Do you.”

“Of course not,” Myka said.

Helena shrugged, saying to Giselle, “Then she should keep them out of competition.”

Was that a taunt? “How are we supposed to do that?” Myka demanded. “She’s made it impossible.”

Giselle inclined her head toward Helena, a “your turn” move.

Helena obliged. “I haven’t; Zelus has. But frankly, competition is one small corner of a very large field. The company wants Deceits everywhere.”

Myka leaned past Giselle to say, “Well, I don’t.” Saying this, now, directly to Helena; as if saying it harshly enough would make Helena buckle.

Helena offered another shrug, as if she didn’t care what Myka said, or to whom she said it. “In the company’s history, has there been a shoe they didn’t want everywhere? And in any event,” she said now, leaning her own way across Giselle, even farther than Myka had, “everyone wants to run faster.” She gave a cold little laugh. “Everyone but you.” Clearly a taunt.

Myka said, cold in return and true, “That’s right. Not if it’s fake.”

Helena replaced her body at Giselle’s side then, no response other than that. It left Myka hanging, casting new darting glances at Helena and Giselle side by side, as the elevator descended, floor by floor.

Myka had already spent time angrily considering how beautiful they would have been together as younger versions of themselves, but now she was confronted with how beautiful they were together as these this-minute versions. Her resentment of it, of them, gnawed at her, for who was she, who lied about a boyfriend, to get in the way of beauty? She lied to keep her life free of complication, and beauty was complicating. Insurmountably so.

She had to—had to—let go of the idea of Helena as hers. Stupid recalcitrance, clinging to it, for of course Helena had never been hers. She needed to understand that, down to her shoelaces. And whatever special version of herself Helena had made her seem? All right, yes, she had wanted it... Don’t you still want it? she imagined Helena asking, low, seductive.

Not if it’s fake.

She needed to focus on what wasn’t fake: the job she had now, and the importance of making sure she did it.

Also not fake was the fact that Giselle and Helena were two beautiful people who were beautiful together. Get used to this picture, Myka told herself. It’s the one you should want to see.

Myka considered asking Helena to join them for lunch, just to force herself to look at that picture. Then she asked herself, Or would it be to try to insert yourself between them?

The elevator ride ended before she could—or would—allow herself to discern which was more true.

At the restaurant, Myka ordered a layered-vegetable sandwich, suffering through Giselle’s eyeroll at her “without the bread, please” request; Giselle’s choice of a heavily condimented burger and fries was most likely an additional rebuke. When their food arrived, the elements of Giselle’s plate resembled browned, glistening figures arrayed on a crowded beach. Myka’s precise stack of vegetables, meanwhile, was a minimalist skyscraper.

Giselle said, “So that isn’t a sandwich anymore. You know that, right?”

“Don’t tell me what a sandwich isn’t,” Myka said.

That was clearly too much of a snap, for after a pause, Giselle asked, “You okay?”

“Of course. I just want what I want.” To demonstrate, she sliced through the skyscraper, and if impaling the resultant wedge didn’t solve her Helena-and-Giselle problem, it did satisfy.

Giselle said, “Not unrelated: I know something you don’t know.”

“Now who’s on-brand?” But that was too much of a snipe. Get yourself under control.

“Hmmm... what’s it worth to you?”

“How should I know?”

“Fair point. What if it’s worth a lot?”

“Then it would be... good for me to know?”

“Right, but what do I get out of it?”

“Um. Gratitude?”

“I was thinking three days in Monaco,” Giselle said and she looked directly into Myka’s eyes, no diverting, no nonchalant return to the eating of fries.

Her saying that, saying it as she did, was a relief, surprising in its strength: so Giselle and Helena were not back together—or if they were, it didn’t matter. Myka could not in the moment process all the resulting implications, so she said, “We’ll see,” as a way of maybe, possibly, expanding her idea of what the future could reasonably hold.

“Most hope you’ve ever given me,” Giselle said. She deployed a flirty smirk, but it seemed warmer, just a little, in cast and cant, than the Helena one. Was Myka special after all?

“Well, maybe times are changing,” Myka said, hoping it was true. Hoping it was time.

“Exciting news,” Giselle said, and not as dispassionately as she might have done; Myka almost believed her. “So here’s my news for you: Zelus wants to buy Ingenumedix. No, let me rephrase: Zelus really wants to buy Ingenumedix.”

Ingenumedix? That pinged; Myka concentrated and located the source: a newspaper article she’d glanced over, some months ago. “That’s a tech start-up... what does Zelus want it for?”

“Wearables, I heard.”

“Where did you hear this?”

“Does it matter? I’m in communications. People communicate with me. People who care. It’s a tip from someone who cares.”

Someone who cares... “About what?” Myka asked. “Competition being fair?”

Giselle laughed. “Sure. Why not call it that?”

“But why is it worth enough for three days in Monaco?” Myka asked, but as she said those words, she heard how they sounded, and she realized what she’d implied. “I don’t mean you aren’t yourself worth those three days,” she stumbled to say, “because of course you are. Or I... I mean I imagine you would be. Not that I imagine you in Monaco, because of course I don’t. Not you.” No, no, no; that was even wronger. “Not just not you, though; I mean, not you, and of course not anybody else either, because... why am I still talking?” This is where complication gets you.

“Why? Maybe working your way to telling me what you do imagine,” Giselle said, sly. “But don’t worry about hurting my feelings. Three days in Monaco with me? I know what that’s worth. What matters is, I’m in communications.”

“What?” Myka said, baffled.

“Yes. What. But really, you’re asking who. Doesn’t matter, though. Who, what. I don’t know.”

Clearly, Giselle was not going to be clear. Myka said, “I always found ‘Who’s on first’ very confusing.”

“Your problem not mine,” Giselle said. She chuckled. “Speaking of your problem, fun times in the elevator with Helena! You two fighting through me—then around me—that was a show. A show plus.”

“She isn’t my problem,” Myka said, willing it to be true.

“And here I thought you were working on the shoes.”

“Right, but not—she’s not my problem. The shoes are.”

“She’s here because of the shoes.”

“Which are my only problem,” Myka said, again trying to force the truth of it.

“Let me be clear: she’s here.” After this pronouncement, Giselle bit an enormous hunk from her hamburger.

Myka took a new pristine slice from her skyscraper, piercing it perfectly—perfectly satisfyingly—through all its layers. “Let me be clear back,” she said, pleased that she could gesture with the fork holding it, if carefully. That, at least, was clean and unconfusing. “I won’t let that be my problem.”

“That may not be your call.”

“I won’t let that not be my call.”

“You are precious.”

“Thanks,” Myka said, with what she hoped was a long-suffering eyeroll of her own.

“I mean it in the not-mean way.”

“You and Pete are both a lot meaner than you seem to think.”

Giselle took up a French fry. She waved it lazily around—left, right—her wrist flopping limp each way. After this display of nonchalance, she said, “About Pete.”

“What about him?” Myka asked, slicing the skyscraper again. She had to concentrate to do it, so as to keep the layers from collapsing into a sliding mess, like a poorly planned building implosion. Now it was a challenge, to keep it standing as long as possible.

“That’s what I’m wondering. Are he and Helena alike at all?”

She’d thought she understood the game. But what did Pete have to do with any of it? “Why would you ask me that?”

Giselle dropped the fry and raised her hands. “Okay,” she said. “Backing off.”

Unclear about what Giselle was backing off from, Myka too backed off. She abandoned the vegetable skyscraper, though she was barely halfway through its demolition. What good could come from forcing—or even witnessing—its inevitable fall?

Myka had called Steve the night before, the night of the elevator, thinking to convince herself that any feelings she might be feeling were nothing but remnants of a brief bit of the past, and that she was perfectly able to talk about that past using the appropriate past tense. “You’ll never guess who, I mean whom, I’ve run into,” she said.

He didn’t respond at first. Then he said, “Uh oh.”

“What?” Myka asked. Seriously, had he immediately jumped to—

“A peacock,” he said, because clearly, he had.

“Are you a mind reader?”

“Voice reader. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” But not because I know what I’m doing, she thought. That elevator could have—would have—been a complete disaster. “She’s here to... anyway, she’s here, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“As a voice reader, it sounds to me like the picture’s still pretty.”

She considered dissembling. Pointless. So she said, “God. Still.” Only to him could she have said such a thing, and it was a relief to have said it out loud, with no twinge of sarcasm or dismissal. But it was also a burden, real and true, to acknowledge with voice and breath that she did still find the view that was Helena so compelling.

He said a low “Hmmm.” Then, “I thought you gave it up. All of it.”

“I did.”

“But you’re rethinking.”

“Absolutely not,” she declared, loud, aggressive. But this was Steve, so she had to be honest. “Well. I was starting to. With someone else. Vaguely. But I keep rethinking. That.”

“Rethinking starting the rethinking.”

“Yes.”

“I’m unclear on where you actually are in the thinking process.”

“When I hear it out loud, so am I. How’s Liam?”

“Handsome,” Steve said, and Myka could hear his half-smile, picture his incipient left-cheek dimple.

“No rethinking for either of you, right?”

“Nope. Wedding’s still on. And you’re not allowed to rethink showing up, best person.”

It was a glancing reference to how she’d become... unreliable. After. So much so, Steve had taken to camping out on the couch that lived on her apartment building’s porch, early in the morning, coffee in hand, waiting for her to return from her run so she couldn’t avoid him. “For my own peace of mind,” he would say, transparently.

Over the course of several mornings, she explained that she was considering going home again, waiting again, this time until she knew for certain.

She didn’t tell him about the coin that had done her so wrong.

He had expressed understanding, but he had also noted that the choice wasn’t binary: to lawyer or to run away. And then he’d sent her links to several job postings, one of which was at AAI.

After Myka accepted the AAI position, she took the news of it to her father. She had her arguments prepared: she told him that law school hadn’t been enough of a challenge. That was the truth. That she’d been ambivalent about law—also true—and that she wanted to take what she’d learned and use it differently than anyone expected. “Even you,” she tried to joke.

“Expectations,” he’d said, and she waited for him to go on. Waited. Eventually, he would have to fill the void. “Good run this morning?” he asked at last.

She couldn’t cry; it would have confirmed what she was reasonably sure he’d guessed, that she was trying to work her way out of something terrible. So she kept the hot red relief behind her nose, away from her eyes and throat, and said, “First few miles were ragged, but I found a stride about halfway. You?”

“Listened to my knees pop the whole time. You think I should get one of those i-things, with the little earbud whatevers? How loud do they go? Would that drown it all out?”

That had been the end of it, as far as Myka had ever been able to tell. Her father listened to her talk about AAI, asked focused questions, and expressed admiration for the ex-athletes she worked with. She breathed a little easier after each conversation.

So Myka owed Steve.

After much puzzling over what could possibly constitute an appropriate wedding present, she’d at last lit on the idea of, then actually found, a Matchbox-car Saab, which she’d repainted orange. One or more of his high school friends might have had the same idea, but a good friend—the best friend—couldn’t really have too many model orange Saabs. Probably.

And all right, yes: she’d thought about Helena. Constantly. When she’d ideated the toy Saab. When she’d bought the car and the orange paint. When she’d applied coat after painstaking coat to cover its original unassuming amber. She’d thought and thought and thought, against her will but not really, about that time she was not known for driving an orange Saab.

She considered that she herself might have called Helena into being, here, now, by doing all that thinking. “It’s kind of your fault,” she was tempted to say to Steve... but she had to wait until after the wedding for that. By then, at least, it would be nothing but comedy, for by then, all this Helena business would be behind her.

This is what I’m supposed to want.

TBC

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Run #part 7a #obviously Myka wants what (whom) she wants #but how can she reconcile that with who she believes herself to be?#want is so very inconvenient #as so many Mykas tend to discover #and it can make you unrecognizable to yourself #as so many Mykas ALSO tend to discover #whoops--forgot to add:#AU week

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readyourimgaines · 3 years

Text

The Little Things

Summary: Derek knew fully well that moving in with Spencer was going to bring around some changes. Dr. Spencer Reid was different and Derek loved him for it. There were little quirks that the doctor showed at work and some Derek was still learning. So there must be some at home.

And a special thanks, of course, to @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese for helping me compile this list!

1. Alphabetizing Movies by Title

“Pretty Boy?” Derek was crouched down in front of their TV looking for their movie while Spencer did the dishes. The latter hadn’t seen Happy Gilmore and Derek couldn’t let that stand.

“Yeah?” Spencer called from the kitchen.

“I can’t find it?”

“What?” Spencer stepped away from the sink and went to the living room. Water dripped from his fingertips. “The movies are alphabetical. It’s between Hamlet and Ice Age.” He went to Derek’s side and gestured to the movie. “I was going to order them by director, but Hotch said most people don’t know directors very well. Which is a shame because J.J. Abrams destroyed Star Trek but Guy Riche-”

Derek pressed a kiss to Spencer’s lips with a fond smile. Spencer blinked.

“Sorry,” the doctor blushed.

Derek just chuckled. “You know you’re adorable, right, Pretty Boy?”

“You may have mentioned it a time or two,” Spencer laughed.

“You can tell me all about directors later,” Derek promised. “I know a bit about the mainstream guys, but not a whole lot.”

“All you really need to know is that J.J. Abrams kills anything he touches and Peter Jackson doesn’t get as much attention as he should.”

*****

2. Morning Rituals

One thing that Derek very quickly learned about Spencer was that he

had a specifically timed morning ritual when not on a case. And that if it was broken or disturbed, the whole rest of the day would go down hill like a train on greased tracks.

He woke up at 6:17, was in the shower by 6:25, eating breakfast by 7:00, his bed made by 7:30, and shoes on his feet by 7:32. The last half hour before they left at 8:00 was free game.

The first morning in their new place was the roughest. Spencer went

about his usual morning, but Derek didn’t usually wake up until 7:45 because he took less time to get ready and ate in the car. So when Spencer finished breakfast and went back to their room to make the bed but Derek was still asleep… He paced for the next fifteen minutes and his head nearly went through the ceiling when Derek’s alarm went off.

Spencer almost had a panic attack as he fumbled his way through making their bed and cramming his feet into his shoes. Needless to say, the extra half hour was spent- in vain- trying to calm the doctor down. None of the rest of the day lined up properly and Spencer was on edge and fidgety. Hotch even had to gently remind him to focus a few more times than the usual redirection of infodumps.

That was the first and only time Derek didn’t follow Spencer’s morning routine. He found the same day that Spencer had a much simpler night ritual: Snack (sometimes) at 10:10, teeth brushed by 10:25, in bed by 10:35, reading until (supposed to be) 11:18, and then lights out. This routine was much more flexible and relaxed.

Derek found waking up and going to bed at the same time every day made the former much easier. He also found that Spencer reading to him most nights- no matter the book or topic- was very relaxing. And of course there were nights when Derek read to Spencer.

*****

3. Sugary Coffee

Derek took a sip of coffee from his travel cup and whistled. “Think I got yours, Pretty Boy. There’s enough sugar in this to hype up a six year old’s birthday party.”

Spencer braced himself and took a sip of the coffee in his own cup. He was pleasantly relieved when the bitterly sharp taste expected never came. “I-I put sugar in both of them. I wasn’t thinking,” he said sheepishly.

Derek shrugged. “You know what they say: I’ll try anything once.” He chuckled. “I’ll just brush my teeth for an extra three minutes.”

Spencer scoffed as he got into the passenger seat of Derek’s car. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll like it. You don’t get the caffeine drop when the eight hour half-life is over.”

“Is that why you put so much sugar in coffee?” Derek raised an eyebrow, thinking he already knew the answer.

“And coffee tastes like battery acid. I’d rather drink vinegar than black coffee.” Spencer shuddered.

Derek chuckled but didn’t say anything else as he pulled onto the street.

*****

4. Cuddly Sleeper

Even though Spencer wasn’t huge on PDA like Derek was, he sure was a cuddly guy. The second the door closed, he was a six foot koala. That included in bed- but usually not until after he was asleep.

Some nights, Spencer would fall asleep reading. So Derek would take his book, close it, gently remove Spencer’s glasses, and turn out the lamp. Nine times out of ten, Spencer was curled up against his side before Derek was asleep himself.

At first, Derek found himself wondering why Spencer wasn’t nestled against him before sleep took him. But after a while, it sunk in that the doctor unwound by reading.

The look on Spencer’s face when he curled into Derek’s side always sent the older man over the moon. The absolute peace on the doctor’s face. One night, Derek almost woke Spencer up laughing. Derek rolled over to out the lamp and Spencer had gripped Derek’s arm tighter and whined in his sleep. Derek then had to assure his boyfriend- in soft whispers as to not actually wake him up- that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Spencer never thought to question why his book and glasses were gone when he woke up.

*****

5. Leaves Books Everywhere

Anyone who had a 30 second conversation with Spencer- anyone who glanced at Spencer- could tell the man read more than he did anything else.

Derek picked up the doctor’s satchel once and was moderately surprised the slim man hadn’t dislocated his shoulder with how heavy the bag was. But Spencer didn’t only keep books in his bag. No. They were all over the place.

Their bedroom, the craft room where Derek made floor plans for his renovations, the kitchen, the dining room, the living room. Even both bathrooms and the basement.

When the two first moved in together, Derek debated building an extension onto the living room for a library. He still debated it from time to time (just in case). But as time wore on, Derek grew to appreciate the countless (if seemingly random) books around the house.

Spencer would read when Derek was working on floorplans, so Derek would read when Spencer worked on an academic paper or consult.

“What’re you reading?” Spencer asked one night, finally looking up from his notebook. He was writing an essay on how handwriting analysis could help catch a serial killer and/or rapist.

“I don’t even know,” Derek chortled. “Uh..” he looked at the cover, “it’s Introduction to Law by Joanne Banker and Yvonne Ekern.”

“Oh! Hotch loaned that to me yesterday,” Spencer noted. “I should get that back to him soon.”

Derek just shook his head. “You know, Pretty Boy, I didn’t read this much in college.”

Spencer smiled. “See? Maybe there’s a good side to not spending thousands of dollars on building a library,” he teased.

6. The Nightlight

In the bedroom, in the outlet closest to the door was a nightlight. But not just any night light. This nightlight made the move in the front pocket of Spencer’s satchel.

“So what’s the story behind this platypus, Pretty Boy?” Derek had to ask one night as Spencer turned it on. “Because you’ve had this since before we were dating.”

“My uh- my mom’s went on a sort of field trip with her hospital a couple years ago. It was on one of her good days. She saw this in the aquarium’s gift shop and bought it for me.”

“That’s pretty cute,” Derek encouraged. He knew Spencer didn’t open up about his mom often so Derek tried to learn everything he could about the woman during the rare occurrences.

“We named him,” Spencer laughed. “Alfred Nicholas Brian Reid.” He giggled. “I just… He helps.”

*****

+1. Bleeding/Infected Hangnails

Spencer usually had something to stim or fidget with. A strip of paper, a pen or pencil to twirl, a shirt with a loose thread, something. On the off chance that he didn’t, the doctor somehow decided that his fingers were good enough. If Spencer didn’t have a hangnail, he’d start one.

This was the one and only thing about Doctor Spencer Reid that Derek Morgan hated. He could see the minute flinch when Spencer held a utensil wrong and it pressed on the swollen skin. He heard the soft hiss when Spencer got tomato or orange juice in the broken skin.

What Derek hated even more than that was when the hangnail would get infected. The skin around the nail or turn a greenish-yellow and harden. Which, in turn, gave Spencer another thing to pick at.

“Pretty Boy, you gotta stop,” Derek sighed. He’d gone into a convenience store to get them something other than coffee- but tastier than water- to drink. While inside, he bought a box of Band-Aids and a tube of anti-bacterial cream.

Spencer snapped out of his daze. “What?”

“Picking at your nails.” To prove his point, Derek took Spencer’s hand in his to show him, as well as to stop his current picking. “I know you’re worried about the case, Baby, but we’ll catch the son of a bitch and put his ass behind bars like we always do. You gotta stop destroying your hands.”

“I didn’t realize I was,” he admitted.

“I know,” Derek said softly. He applied the cream and a Band-Aid to each finger that needed it (five in total between both hands). “We just gotta get you a couple of those fidget cubes Garcia has.”

Tag List: @mayonnaiseismycomfortfood

#read your imagines #combefere's journal #criminal minds imagine #moreid imagine #spencer reid imagine #derek morgan imagine #5+1 things #6+1 things #moreid #moreid fluff

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darkmist111 · 3 years

Text

Phantom Thieves Play Dungeons and Dragons

The Wander and the Worker

Akira had faced many trials, both legally and spiritually. He had also been a master of organization, stuffing as much activity as he could into a single year.

Yet this challenge nearly brought him to his knees.

“So you only add 2 to armor class?”

“No that's only for medium armor your un-armored right now.”

“Shit I should've picked a race with more dexterity.”

It was like herding cat's, without Morgana’s help.

“You guys ready? It's almost 5.” Akira said know that this group could double a session’s play time.

“Hold on I’m trying to memorize our modifiers.” Ann said squinting as she had forgot her glasses at home.

“Don't worry just remember your crap at everything not dexterity and charisma.” Ryuji said nonchalantly.

The plan was to get all the players to level 2 before they got to the main campaign, so Akira did this little mini session with 2 characters first so the players could slip into their roles.

“Alright are we ready to play?”

Ryuji had finally gotten Ann to stop fusing over her papers.

“As we’ll ever be I guess *sigh* I really hope I don't die at level 1 again.” Ann groaned.

“Hell yeah let's kick some ass!”

“Alright close your eyes and listen.” Akira took a deep breath and his voice changed.

“This is the world of Exceeden”

Akira peaked and caught the grins on his two friends faces.

“Unlike our world with disconnected planets, the world of Exceeden is but one layer stacked in-between other realms, but different from the other realms Exceeden did not occur naturally but was created by 20 core gods. The gods were once one shared in their love of their creation, however what they didn't know was it would grant them more power than even their unparalleled minds could imagine.

Jealousy, anger, spite, and rage broke them apart each believing their creation should go the way they decided and the 20 became 5. 6 of Law, 6 of Chaos, 2 of Good, 2 of Evil, and 4 to keep the balance.

While the realm has no supreme rule the cycles of mortals carry on. Empires rise and fall, stories are told and forgotten, until finally the sands of time cycle towards something or someone that can shatter the heavens despite their humble beginnings.

The year is 997 A.I.(After Invasion) and our story takes place on the continent of Almoria. While not the largest continent it houses a wide array of People and Cultures in no small part due to the many differences environments.

In the far north in the icy tundras Orc and Goliath tribes war against the Tiefling Solos Empire and their Minotaur allies even further north in the Shadow Lands.

Below that are the eternal plans of Sparks where wild magic hum and fae slip into our world. Bands of Centaur and Satyr dance across the fields, unknowingly starting war with the Leonin Clans.

On the east of the Great Sezali Desert a new and ambitious clan of HobGoblins are gathering their forces of Goblin and Bugbear.

This makes the Elven Allied Council to the west nervous and the desert has become a sort of cold war, but also a hive of activity for trade and merchants.

On the West Coast the Aarakocra war against the Triton and the East Coast, the legendary Tortle Cleric Genbu brokers peace between the Locathah and the Grung.

In the Mountains Kobold, Lizardmen and Dragonborn War against a unfathomable threat as the Chromatic dragons and Metal Dragons have united to control the Arcane Canyons.

With the fall of Tyrant Human King Rexanik, many flee to the peaceful mountains city of Eternix. The city, nicknamed the city of small folk, was almost completely Gnomes, Halfling, Dwarfs, as well as the Black Wing Monastery, suddenly has possibly the highest human density in the continent.

Humans have also tried their luck in the chaotic Forest of Nayan only to be never heard from again.

In the south peace is almost a certainty as the brotherhood between the Loxodon and Gith remains just a strong as a century ago. Their city Omniox hold the Verdan trading Guild the only constant in these turbulent times

Not all is so clear though, hidden in the desert are rumors of cults who use arcane, scientific, and religious methods to create inhuman monsters that stalk the night.

However it is that Desert where we start our story in the town of Ixyana. Ixyana is a port town to the sea of sand, willing to offer weary travelers any pleasure they require... for the right price. Ixyana has always been self governed but with escalating tensions between the Elven and HobGoblin armies, the town is being pressured to pick a loyalty. But today neither a Goblin nor Elf is the new stranger in town.”

“Ryuji please introduce your character.”

“I’m just a guy who looks like an average traveler, I’m wearing normal cloths and using a spear like a walking stick, the only unusual thing about me is that have blue skin and white “Hair”. I’m a Fighter but only because you get in fights when you wander as much as I do, but it's clear I’m not formally trained.”

The wanderer enters the town carrying a satchel over his back midday. He makes his way towards a inn looking to rest for the night. He hears a commotion and see several HobGoblin warriors speaking angrily toward each other, before rushing off. The young man enters into a alley to avoid crossing their path, as he steps out he sees another beautiful HobGoblin women in revealing clothes dart out from behind a stack of boxes. Before his eyes she begins to shift form before becoming a striking dark haired Elven women and quickly entering the Inn.

“Well That's a Flag if I’ve ever seen one.”

The man is overcome with curiosity and follows her. He enter the inn and sees the first floor is a diner/bar.

At this time of day not many people are drinking and lunch is already over so the inn is uncrowded.

The blue man sees the former HobGoblin women now Elven sit in the corner of the bar skillfully blending in for those not looking.

As he walks up to her she glances before biting her lip.

“Sorry I’m not working right now.”

You realize from her statement and her outfit that this women is one of the courtesans of the towns most powerful group in place of a formal government, The Desert Respite, worshipers of Bast one of the 20 original Gods and practitioners of the arts of pleasure both of a sexual nature and of entertainment.

“I still can believe your playing a Prostitute.” Ryuji says teasing.

“For your information I’m a high class escort. And let's see if you’ll be laughing in a few minutes.”

“Sorry it's not that I... I just... saw you change.”

The woman tenses her eyes narrowing and grits her teeth.

“So what?”

“Are... Are you a Spirit.”

The women slowly turns her head, seeing the nervous young man though in her eyes he's more of a boy shift his weight nervously.

“Perception check!”

“Roll for it.”

“...!!!! Natural 20!”

“Heh, yeah he's a pretty easy mark.”

“Hey!”

She smirks before tipping her drink back and gesturing to the seat across from her.

“From out of town.”

“Out from... everywhere.”

She changes her posture, trained but attractive.

“The desert must've been quite the ordeal, I didn't notice a Caravan enter town. Is your group somewhere else?”

“No, I’ve been traveling alone.”

“Alone?”

“Yes I am quite skilled at traveling, born and raised doing it in fact.”

“Incredible, you must be strong.”

The women bit her lip while the blue skinned man sweat feeling nervous from the shapeshifters forward flirtations.

“You know I have a certain need for a strong man.”

“Role Wisdom Ryuji.”

“What! She hasn't even cast anything.”

“Your mouth was dropped.” Ann teased. “Let's hope your character isn't a simp.”

“No way!”

Ryuji rolled.

“Shit! 6, 7 total.”

“Simp”

“Shut up!”

“What did- What do you need. I’m always looking to help out.”

“You see a girl can only stay in one town for so long before she needs a change of pace. I’m thinking you’ve been to plenty of places, why don't you and I go on adventure.”

The spearman let out a yelp as he felt her leg delicately trace his own.

“And I’ll be sure your thoroughly compensated.”

“Roll Perception against Ann’s Persuasion.”

“Yes!”

“Shit”

Ann rolled and grinned which caused Ryuji to hang his head.

“21 total Persuasion!”

“Goddamnit, 14 total.”

“Yeah she has you wrapped around her finger.”

“*Gulp* There’s no need for that ma’am, I'd be happy to guide you wherever you desire.”

The man saw her smile turn victorious and her leg rubbed a little higher.

“Don’t worry it's no trouble, when we stop for the night I can give you a nice and long compensating.”

_______________________________________

The pair quickly gather their things the shapeshifter, changing again into a stunning Yuan-Ti. They walked through the town. Some men stared at the shabby looking Traveler and the beautiful courtesan, leering at her exposed cleavage, open thighs, and toned belly, others smirked and gave respecting nods. He glared and the former while that latter made him feel like a scumbag.

She insisted they walk on foot so not to draw attention. The man frowned but didn't say anything.

As they walked they chatted.

“My names Zap by the way.”

“Nais of the Desert Respite.”

“So Nais, are you wondering what I am?”

“Probably not as much as your wondering what I am.”

“Well I don't know, I’ve never seen someone change what they look like except my dad.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he’s a Genie.”

“...”

“...You're not joking?”

“Nope. A Lightning Genie to be specific.”

“Insight Check... 11?”

“He seems to be pretty honest.”

“So you can grant wishes?”

“He could, not me. I’m only half genie, my other half is Human from my mom. Dad said my type of people are called Genasi.”

“Where’s you dad now?”

“He’s only allowed to stay in the material plane for 20 years at a time. He left on my 10th birthday, I’m 22, so he’ll be back in 8 years. Though he’ll probably see my mom before me.”

“... You know that is a really weird story right?”

“I actually didn't know until later in life. For a long time it was just the 3 of us, then the 2, now me.”

“I see.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You can change into other things, is it magic?”

Nias looked away not wanting to meet Zap’s eyes.

“It's not magic it's just something I’m able to do, as well as my mother and her mother before her. She said that we might be descended from Doppelgängers.”

“That's amazing.” Zap said with awe.

“Perception Check!” Ann yelled out.

“Zap doesn't lie. He's a open book.”

“19!”

“Zap really does think your amazing.”

“Geez he doesn't have to try so hard I already said I’d fuck him.”

“Excuse me! But Zap is a gentleman he doesn't only think about sex.”

“Unlike his player.”

#persona 5 #phantom thieves #joker persona 5 #persona 5 ryuji #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #p5 yusuke #yusuke kitawaga #makoto niijima #haru okumaru #p5 akechi #morgana #dungeons and dungeons #changlings #genasi

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momentsofbllove · 3 years

Text

A year of BL Love

I discovered BL for the first time this year, and boy what a year it was! I wanted to write up a quick and simple review of the shows that I watched just to finish off the year. So here goes! (Spoilers EVERYWHERE. So... be careful.)

Shows that I loved, will definitely rewatch in the future, and will skip very little of when I do:

The Untamed - beautiful story, beautiful production, all around worth every second of the 50 episodes. technically not a BL because of censorship, but still managed to portray the most beautiful love story I watched all year. Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan deserve every second of the acclaim and praise they have received for this masterpiece! 10/10

Until We Meet Again - I love every couple in this series with all my heart! a lot of people felt it was slow but I honestly just thought it was a beautiful story full of love and heartache and friendship and just... uhg, everything. I will rewatch this one again and again and again. 10/10

Like In The Movies - this one was heartbreaking and hopeful and beautiful and tragic and sweet and just altogether perfect in every way. I need the sequel right now immediately please! 10/10

He’s Coming To Me - this one was so good?!! I don’t know how a show about a love story between a ghost that was murdered 20 years ago and a university student could be so perfect, but it was? the only thing that was a little iffy was the previous relationship between Met and Thun’s mom. this one is sweet and sad (Met is dead afterall) and has love and mystery and good side characters and friendships. yeah. just altogether great. 9/10

HIStory 3: Trapped - fascinating story (I want so many more BL’s that AREN’T set in high school/university please!) and great chemistry between both couples. the acting was fantastic and the storyline was compelling. I truly love this show except for the fact that we’re not getting that sequel they were hinting at and that makes me SAD because it makes the ending hurt so much even if it was a hopeful one. 9/10

HIStory 2: Crossing the Line - cute story, amazing actors, wonderful side characters, just all around great! the only reason it’s not getting a perfect score is because I feel very OLD when watching highschool storylines. it makes the intimate scenes... awkward. even if the actors are adults. 9/10

Where Your Eyes Linger - loved the storyline, loved the chemistry and dynamics of the couple, the ending was rushed and left me wanting so much more, but since it was one of the first Korean BL’s to ever be produced it was wonderful. 8/10

Cherry Magic - I love Adachi and Kurosawa with all my heart! this show was so good. so so good! the only reason I’m not giving it a higher rating is because Tsuge and Minato’s storyline gives me so much secondhand embarrassment ALL THE TIME! but they’re still so cute despite that, so it’s not horrible. Rokkaku and Fujisaki are SO CUTE and the perfect side characters. basically this show is perfect (except for the second hand embarrassment) and the fact that we never got a proper kiss. like... I don’t need skinship in every BL show I watch, but that last second cutaway in the end was just... frustrating. 8/10

Theory of Love - OffGun have my whole heart and are 80% of the reason I love this show so much. but also I really liked the story line and the way Third and Kai’s relationship progressed throughout the show. it had a perfect resolution for all the couples (including the teacher/student ‘couple’ which I usually HATE) and was definitely a stand out from all the multitude of ‘university’ shows out there. 8/10

3 Will Be Free - this was was so interesting and lovely and tragic and I loved every single second of it... up until the last ten minutes. I almost put it lower just because of the ending. we deserved a happy, loving bisexual polyship d*mn it! but I’ll definitely rewatch it again. and stop right before the end when I do. 8/10

Because of You 2020 - ridiculous nonsense that I will gladly watch again! really there is no justifying this one being in my top list because it is NONSENSE but it makes me happy and that’s all that matters. all three couples are adorable and the last scene makes me smile so much! 8/10

Shows that I liked and will probably watch again, but will be skipping a lot of parts when I do:

My Engineer - this show should be in my top list. but I HATE BohnDuen so much. so so much. and they are the main couple. so because of them when I rewatch this show (which I have several times now) I have to skip 60% of it because I really really hate them. so much. but the other three couples make up for it - especially RamKing who GIVE ME LIFE - so it’s at the top of my ‘not the top’ list. 7/10

Mr. Heart - this one was cute, but I felt like the couple was very... lop-sided. Sang Ha was almost obsessed with Jin Won before they ever even properly met and that gave me a weird feeling. their relationship was cute by the end, but... idk. and the whole side story with Sang Ha and the debt collectors was... odd. I felt like it was a very serious storyline that they did not take seriously at all. very off-putting. but altogether the show was cute enough, and short enough, to deserve a rewatch. 6/10

Why R U - I just... did not like SaifahZon. like... at all. Zon’s character annoyed me, their dynamic was... off, and Zon’s sister makes me so mad I can’t watch her at all. I adore FighterTutor (they are one of my favorite couples which is why this show is still getting such a high rating) and I have rewatched their part of the show 3 times now. but the rest, including the THREE other side couples (seriously? 5 couples in one show? why? it’s too f*cking much!)... no. no thank you. 6/10

Roommates The Series - it was cute, and did very well on a VERY low budget and a very limited cast because they filmed during the pandemic (or after the worst of it was over in their country at least). the side female characters were great (a rarity in BL’s for sure!) and there was a few really great scenes that I loved. altogether a bit of a lackluster show compared to others, but definitely worth at least one watch. 6/10

Tharntype - I know how problematic this show is, alright? but it’s fictional, and sometimes people like things in their fictional stories that they HATE in real life... all the very serious consent issues for one. that being said, if I had been watching the show as it aired I probably would have given up on it by, like, episode 2. as it was I knew everything that happened before I ever started watching and that gave me the freedom to appreciate the storyline for what it would become at the end. I love MewGulf and the way they portrayed Tharn and Type. I thought Tar’s storyline was interesting and heartbreaking and he is a precious bean that I want to protect with all my heart. however, a big factor in this series not making it into my top list is the handling of Lhong and the ending of his story. you want me to feel sorry for that monster? are you kidding me?!! he should have been locked up in prison for the rest of his life, not had Tharn’s brother come APOLOGIZE to him as if he was the one who was wronged. if that hadn’t happened, despite all the problematic things in this show, I would probably have put this in my top list. 6/10

Wish You - this one had SO MUCH POTENTIEL. the storyline was unique, the ‘twist’ reveal was interesting, and the main characters had a lot of chemistry. and everything was RUSHED RUSHED RUSHED! this show needed at LEAST 5-6 more episodes. there was no time to develop the relationship between In Soo and Sang Yi, and I wanted them to so badly! there was no time to deal with the ‘twist’ and the fallout that happened from it. everything just happened and then you moved on, and then more things happened and you moved on. uhg. despite all that I’m putting this one a little higher because the actors, writing, and production value were very good. but gosh do I wish there was so much more of it. the wasted potential is painful. 6/10

The Effect - wow. this one was... not what I was expecting. be cautious of watching this because it could be VERY triggering. but the acting was PHENOMENAL! I think they took a very dark and serious subject and portrayed it with a lot of care. one of the best things about it was Shin’s friends reaction to his trauma and how carefully and kindly they helped him heal. beautiful to watch! the only reason this is not getting a higher rating is because that ending was INFURIATING! absolutely unforgivable for them to leave it so ambiguous like that. Shin deserved to have a clear and obvious happy ending. not... whatever the hell that was. 6/10

Love By Chance - AePete are precious and adorable and I love them. But Ae’s possessiveness in the later episodes really bothers me, the fact that Perth was 17 when they were filming really bothers me, and once AePete get together halfway through the show it’s like they just get dropped to focus on TinCan which is a couple I can’t stand even a little. and don’t even get me STARTED on Techno and Kengkla. just... just don’t. that whole ‘relationship’ is 85% of the reason I refuse to watch the sequel. altogether, I probably WON’T watch this one again, but I probably would at least have watched the AePete and TumTar (yes, I liked them leave me alone about it) storylines if Perth wasn’t so young, so I’m still giving it a 5/10

Together With Me - MaxTul are fire both on and off screen and I love them with all my heart, but I hated, like, 95% of the show that wasn’t strictly about them. teacher/student storyline? gross. couple with a huge age-gap that ends up being super toxic and emotionally destroying a sweet and lovely character? thanks, I HATE IT. yet another BL portraying the girlfriend as a conniving b*tch so that we’re okay with one half of the main couple being a cheater while they figure out their sexuality crisis? ew ew and more ew. honestly if it wasn’t for the fact that they had two fantastic side female characters (again, such a rarity in BL’s!) and the pure intense chemistry between KornKnock this show probably would have been put even lower. 5/10

Dark Blue Kiss - I can’t stand PeteKao? like... why do so many people love them so much? Pete is SO JEALOUS ALL THE TIME! I just want to smack him! and he’s also completely not understanding of Kao’s fear of coming out. he basically spent the entire show sabotaging his own relationship and then blaming it all on Kao! uhg. no. just no. but I love SunMork with all my heart and wanted them to have so much more development and screen time. it would have made the final scene with them so much better if they had just had TIME to really show their relationship and how it grew, instead of just getting them together and deciding that was good enough. I’ll watch their part again I’m sure, but only their part. 5/10

Shows that were very subpar - I may rewatch some of these for a specific couple but only if I’m really bored and feel like skipping 80% of the show:

#MyDay - I know there’s a lot of people that really like this one. but... oof. the writing was so bad. so so bad! the pacing of the show was weird, there were some major moments that needed a LOT more attention, and some minor moments that got way more screen time than they needed. things were just... awkward all the time when they weren’t meant to be. and again, we have a character that needed to go TO PRISON but ended up being forgiven in the end. just... no. I’m honestly only putting this show as high as I am because the chemistry between Ace and Sky was fantastic. but that wasn’t enough to save this trainwreck. I might watch the sequel for them. maybe. but also maybe not. 4/10

Quaranthings - this one had so much potential but was honestly just so subpar in the end. I really just don’t even have much to say about it. it’s worth watching, I guess. but put it at the bottom of your list, after you’ve watched all the better stuff. 4/10

YYY (and the 3 special eps) - look... weird shows are just not my thing. I love Lay and his portrayal of Punn, Nott was okay as the lead character, but the side characters and storylines were... bizarre. I get that it was supposed to be a parody of other BL’s and their tropes... but honestly I like tropes. and this show was just... too bizarre. especially the three special episodes. in fact... I’m just now remembering I never watched the 3rd one. oops. 4/10

En of Love - This was such a mix and match of good and bad. I didn’t like Tossara AT ALL. Gun pressured Bar into that relationship, including flat out blackmailing him with his necklace to force him to go out with him! they may have been happy in the end, but Bar was CLEARLY uncomfortable with Gun’s advances for most of the first three episodes and it really grossed me out. I kind of liked Mark and Vee together, but the issue with Mark’s girlfriend was frustrating and their whole relationship was just a little bit toxic. and I actually liked Neua and Pra-Ram... AFTER they let us know that Pra-Ram was a legal adult. I hated their relationship up until they had the birthday party because I thought Pra was 17. I’m still a little iffy about a very experienced third year student in university dating a very inexperienced high school student. but at least it wasn’t ILLEGAL. oof. 4/10

HIStory 1: Obsessed/Stay Away from Me/My Hero - My Hero and Stay Away From Me were cute enough although I’ll probably never rewatch them, but Obsessed was toxic and horrible and gross in all senses of the word. -4 for that one which puts the whole series at a 3/10

Tien Bromance - y’all this one is... I don’t even know how to describe it. weird. bizarre. confusing. badly written. strangely acted. (the acting wasn’t bad... it was just... strange.) I watched the special episodes first and thought it was just a cute little domestic family drama with some strange moments. then I watched the rest. and the fact that the first episode started off with a ghost possessing and killing like 8 people while they were on vacation at a lake was the least weird thing that happened. 3/10

Craving You - no. the storyline makes no sense. why are a popular cake baker and an upcoming musician partnering together? why? it doesn’t make any sense! And one of the lead actors is just SO BLAND. I think he was going for ‘quiet and sad’ but just ended up with ‘emotionless and boring’. the most compelling part of the show was the side character dealing with the unexplored feelings that he had for his first love that were denied to him by a homophobic family and how those feelings are now interfering with his current relationship. the rest was pointless and bland. 3/10

My Gear and Your Gown - I liked this one SO MUCH for the first 3-4 episodes. then is went downhill and FAST. Pai and Itt had no chemistry for the last 8 episodes. they spend the whole show angry at each other and then we’re just supposed to accept them getting together in the end because Itt confessed his feelings. like... that’s not enough! the best part of the show was PureFolk. Pure finally believing in love again because he met the ray of sunshine and sweetness that is Folk? yes please! but even their storyline was not fantastic because it got rushed and pushed aside in the end to focus on Pai and Itt breaking up AGAIN and having to deal with the issue of homophobic parents for all of one episode. the last episode was so pointless! there was no reason to shoehorn in that last little bit of drama. none. 3/10

Oxygen - uhg. I do not understand why so many people liked this one so much. Solo’s feelings for Gui were UNHEALTHY. he became obsessed with him over one tiny act of kindness! that’s... that’s not love. that is a broken young boy desperately seeking out love and forcing it onto someone because he doesn’t know what it’s supposed to be like. and the side story with the fujoshi barista and her brother and the doctors was creepy and weird. the only good part of this show was PhuKao but they got about 3 minutes of screen time per episode. I would watch a sequel with them in a heart beat, but leave everyone else out of it! 2/10

Shows I’m currently watching but haven’t finished airing yet so my rating may change:

Manner of Death - this show is EVERYTHING! the murder mystery, the suspense, the suspicion, the CHEMISTRY! I have no idea what’s going on or who I trust or don’t trust (except for Dr. Bunn and Sorn, they are precious rays of sunshine!) but I love every second of it. MaxTul are FIRE and I am so so happy to get to watch them in a story like this! 10/10

Ingredients - this show is EVERYTHING! and yes, I just said that about MoD, but this one is on the complete opposite side of the ‘everything’ spectrum and I love it with all my heart. Win and Tops are SO. FREAKING. CUTE! their pining for each other for eighteen d*mn episodes was so beautiful and sweet and infuriating! their love for each other as friends above all else is precious and perfect! and now that they’re actually together my heart just bursts every time I see them. I think the series only has 1 or 2 episodes left and I am DEVESTATED because I want 20 more! 10/10

TonhonChonlatee - I watched the first two episodes then stopped. I’ve been ‘watching’ the rest via people’s reactions to new episodes online. I get that Tonhon’s homophobia and toxic masculinity is supposed to be awful and is a major plot point in the show... but I don’t want to f*cking WATCH it! I’m hoping we’re getting to a point in the show where he’s calming the f*ck down and starting to learn better and BE better. I want to watch this show. but I can’t watch THAT. 3/10

Color Rush - this one has started off fantastically! the story is interesting and the characters are compelling already. but... I can tell you right now that it’s going to go the way of all the other Korean BL’s that came out this year. it’s not going to have enough time. AT ALL. it’s going to be rushed, I just know it. I applaud Korea for getting into BL’s in the first place and for giving us such interesting storylines and characters to watch, but these 10 minute, 8 episode shows are KILLING me with want of better development! 7/10

Well dang! That was... a lot! lol! Sorry for making such a long post, but BL’s have been such a huge part of my life this year I really just wanted to get my thoughts and feelings about everything out. I was originally going to make a part of the post be about my favorite (and not favorite) couples, but I’m going to end this here and put the couples in their own post.

My ask box is always open to discuss any and all shows on this list. You agree with my faves and want someone to talk to about them, hit me up! You disagree with my not-faves and want to tell me why... let me hear your opinion. You have suggestions for shows that I definitely should have watched by now but have somehow looked over... give them to me! I’ve got a whole new year to fill with beautiful couples and interesting stories!

#bl drama #bl dramas #thai bl #korean bl #pinoy bl #taiwan bl #asianlgbtqdramas #asian dramas #long post #sorry... sort of

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punchdrunkdoc · 4 years

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Updated K-drama list (4)

This list is getting looooong, because I’m well and truly addicted to these shows and can’t stop watching them.

I think its because each show is so self-contained - one series, 16-20 episodes and its done. A clear beginning, middle and a satisfying end. That, together with all the tropes in play (SO MANY TROPES!!) makes each show feel like a novel come to life. And when I start a good novel, I have to finish it in one go. This usually results in me staying up till 2am because I NEED TO KNOW HOW IT ENDS. And it’s the same with these shows. I’m getting very little sleep, but I’m having a hell of a good time!

FAVOURITES

1. Crash Landing on You

He’s from North Korea. She’s from South Korea. They never should have met, but they’ll change each other’s lives.

This was my first K-drama, and its still my favourite. The full cast of characters is great, the lead romance is ANGSTALICIOUS and its genuinely, laugh out loud funny (when its not making you cry or swoon).

Male lead: Officially the best boyfriend ever. With added dimples.

Tear-jerk factor: 4/5

2. Healer

The lives, and pasts, of a hot shot reporter, a spunky young tabloid journalist and a mysterious thief-for-hire intersect.

This was so addictive - the plot was tight and engaging, and this is one of the few shows I’ve watched where there didn’t seem to be a lot of filler. I loved the central 3 characters, and the romance was amazing. I especially loved that the male lead started off such a brooding loner, but he became super-affectionate as soon as he admitted his feelings. So many good hugs and lots of face-cradling in this one.

Male lead: Effortlessly beats up 2 henchmen while comforting his girl over the phone. What more do you need?

Tear-jerk factor: 1/5

3. Itaewon Class

A young man’s life is forever altered when he runs afoul of a powerful family.

This felt like a big step up in quality from everything else in this list, in terms of the production, soundtrack (which was brilliant), the lack of annoying sound effects, and just the overall ‘real world’ feel of the show. All of the characters were fleshed out and 3-dimensional, and they all had their ‘moment’ to shine. The story itself was gripping and so well done - some of the twists and reveals had me gasping! And what can I say about the 2 leads? I love them, both separately, and together. He is so wise beyond his years, and his journey will break your heart and inspire you. She is borderline sociopathic, but I adore her.

Male lead: Tenacious, principled, kind, innocent, caring, driven, loyal…and he can cook!

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

4. Descendants of the Sun

A special forces Captain meets a capable and beautiful trauma surgeon. They feel an instant bond, but their jobs and philosophy on life get in the way, threatening to tear them apart.

Halfway through this show, I seriously thought this might overtake CLOY as my No. 1 fav. I absolutely LOVE the male lead character, and the romance was beautiful…but it didn’t quite nail the angst and the last minute was a bit twee which dropped it down the rankings a bit.

Male lead: A cocky, charming, absolute BADASS with the most adorable, cheeky smile.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

5. Love in the Moonlight / Moonlight Drawn by Clouds

A young woman poses as a eunuch in the Royal Palace and falls in love with the Crown Prince

I wanted to try something different so I opted for this period piece and OH MY GOD am I glad I did. The start had a really light comedic tone (and a lot of modern anachronisms - high fives everywhere!) and I loved all the identity-concealing hi-jinks. But then the romance kicked into gear and the DELICIOUS angst started flowing, and I became obsessed with it. It's like loads of bits of my favourite regency historical romances were mashed up and transported to the Joseon Dynasty. I loved it so much!

Male lead: Manages to look amazingly handsome despite all the period headgear, kicks ass with a sword, and doesn't allow himself to be manipulated by the corrupt officials surrounding him, which was refreshing. Also acts like an adorable goofball when he's in love.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

6. My Holo Love

A lonely woman falls for a holographic AI and then meets his creator...

I love the concept of this show (I’m a big sci-fi nerd), and it was beautifully shot. The lead relationship is well developed and it doesnt fall into a typical love triangle. I’ve come to realise it utilises a lot of K-drama tropes (face-blindness! shared childhood trauma!), but it does it really well, imho.

Male lead: Tortured loner genius. My catnip.

Tear-jerk factor: 2/5

7. Goblin

A 900yr old immortal guardian finally meets the ‘bride’ who will end his existence

Once I got over the slight ick-factor of the age difference between the two characters at the beginning, I really fell for this show and it’s world. It had me in tears. And I especially loved the secondary character of the Grim Reaper.

Male lead: Surprising innocent and funny for a 900 year old

Tear-Jerk factor: 5/5

8. What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim

An personal assistant decides to quits her job in order to get a life. Her boss has other ideas.

I loved the female lead in this - I’m a sucker for uber-competent people, and the actress is STUNNING. Her boss is self-centred, entitled and vain...but over time, somehow that just becomes endearing! Possibly because he’s played by Park Seo Joon, who can do no wrong in my book! The central romance is super cute - I can rewatch their scenes again and again.

Male lead: Like I said, somehow makes vanity and narcissism endearing. Also not afraid to get his shirt off and flash his 6-pack. Bonus.

Tear-Jerk factor: 0/5

9. Legend of the Blue Sea

A mermaid comes onto land to find the man she loves

The (literal) fish-out-of-water scenes in the first half of this show were hilarious - the actress is a comic genius! The romance was nicely done, and there wasn’t a lot of extraneous plot or too many characters. I couldn’t stop watching this one!

Male lead: Cocky, arrogant conman with a soft mushy centre

Tear-Jerk factor: 1/5

10. Fight for my Way

Two life-long friends decide to go after their dreams

I fast-forwarded large chunks of this (I wasn’t interested in the secondary couple at all), but it still made my favourite list because I love the leads - both as separate characters and as a couple. This is one of the best friends-to-lovers stories I’ve seen, mainly because you truly buy that these 2 have known each other their entire lives (their bickering and teasing feels so natural). And then when they take the next step, they’re so affectionate and refreshingly open with their feelings.

Male lead: The third Park Seo Joon character on this list! I love his contradictions. He’s goofy and childish…but can really turn on the sexy charm; he’s a badass MMA fighter…who loves when his girlfriend sticks up for him and protects him.

Tear-jerk factor: 0.5/5

11. Suspicious Partner

A young, hardworking lawyer has her life turned upside down when she is put on trial for murder.

This has been officially bumped up to my favourites list - partly because I’m now a massive Ji Chang Wook fan, and partly because I’ve rewatched scenes with better subtitles and its made it 10x better. Its still overly long, but the serial killer plot had some nice twists and it was central to the story, so it didn’t feel extraneous like some of these types of plots do. I really enjoyed the central romance - the 2 characters sparked off each other well and I loved their evolution from sort-of enemies to lovers. This is another show where I can endlessly rewatch their scenes together.

Male lead: Its Ji Chang Wook! He’s so good at playing serious guys who are secretly big dorks.

Tear Jerk factor: 0.5/5

NOTABLE MENTIONS

These are shows which I completed and really enjoyed but they had flaws which kept them out of the favourites list.

1. The K2

An ex-mercenary takes a job as a bodyguard protecting the illegitimate daughter of a politician. A sort-of Snow White retelling.

This started off really well, with some amazing fight sequences (hello, shower room scene!). However, the back half became too bogged down in double crosses and manipulations, and it focussed too much on the politicians. The writers did well to give these characters some layers, but they were all essentially doing bad things for the wrong reasons, and I just didn’t care about them. The show was much better when it was following K2’s journey. The romance also started off well, but was a bit underdeveloped (mainly because they barely interacted).

2. I Am Not a Robot

A man who is allergic to human contact finds companionship with a robot…or does he?

I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it passed a couple of episodes of this - the concept was just too ridiculous. But I’m glad I persevered, because it developed some real depth and some proper good angst towards the end and I LOVED the central relationship.

3. Extraordinary You

A high school student discovers she's a supporting character in a comic book

The plot of this was so unique, and the way the comic story played out interspersed with the characters 'real lives' was really well done. Plus the central couple were so adorable. It dragged in the middle section (several versions of the same conversations were had, and the same exposition was spelled out multiple ways for no apparent reason) which kept it out of my favourite list, but it redeemed itself with some good angst at the end, and it had a really lovely ‘epilogue'.

4. My Love from the Star

Alien stranded on earth meets an actress soon before he’s due to be rescued.

I finally gave this another chance, and I’m glad I did. The female lead got a LOT less irritating, and I enjoyed the present-day romance and all the flashes back to the past. However, the ending was really abrupt and disappointing (which kept it out of my favourite list). There should have been 1 less filler episode in the middle, and a decent, fleshed out finale instead.

5. Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo

A young talented weightlifter experiences first love

Honestly, I wasn’t sold on this at first; the female lead was a bit much (lot of gurning and over-acting) and there was a weird disconnect between how she was described (big, overweight, manly, unfeminine) and how she actually looked (thin and beautiful!). But the back half of this show saved it; her relationship with Joon-Hyung was sooooo cute. He is adorable, and they were both so supportive of each other’s dreams. I finished this with a big smile on my face.

6. Because this is my First Life

A rational-to-a-fault software designer and an aspiring screenwriter come up with an unconventional way to solve their housing problem

When I started this, I thought it was going to be all light and fluffy (the main character's job in the beginning was to insert the product placement in Korean dramas - hello, Red Ginseng! - which I found hilarious and meta) but it had a surprisingly melancholic tone throughout and touched on issues of workplace harassment and gender roles. I didn't warm to the male lead until right at the end (which was probably partly intentional - he's very remote and closed off) but overall I found the story quite lovely. Plus it had a really great central female friendship and their conversations actually passed the Bechdel test!

7. Strong Girl Bong-Soon

A woman with inherited super-strength gets a job as a bodyguard for an eccentric young CEO

The lead couple in this are AD-OR-ABLE and I loved their relationship. But there was a weird tone issue in this show. The romance is super cute...but there’s a whole dark sub plot involving multiple women being held captive by a psychopath. I ended up fast forwarding most of that, and just concentrated on the romance.

THE OTHERS...

I finished these shows and liked parts of them, but they ultimately didn’t set my world on fire.

1. Her Private Life

A talented art curator tries to keep her professional persona separate from her fangirl obsession with a pop idol.

This was cute and I loved the central relationship - he was so supportive of her, and their interactions were refreshingly mature and their banter felt really natural. Ultimately, it was a bit forgettable (I’m not dying to rewatch any of it), and the last minute tacked-on childhood trauma subplot was really unnecessary.

2. Touch Your Heart

Star actress rocked by scandal works at a law firm to prepare for her comeback role

This starred the secondary couple from Goblin and I really like them, even though they are playing very different characters in this (more opposites attract, than doomed lovers). At first I found this too ‘cutesy’, but I’ve since realised the sound effects/graphics are a K-drama thing and not unique to this show, so I’m not as down on it as I was. I still had to fast forward a lot of the secondary romances which I wasn’t invested in.

3. Hyde, Jekyll and Me

A woman becomes involved in the lives of 2 men, who share one body

This stars Hyun Bin from CLOY and he is sooo watchable, especially as the slick-haired, glasses-wearing, uptight Seo-Jin. And the show started well...but quickly went off the rails into a convoluted, dragged-out revenge plot.

4. Melting Me Softly

Two people are accidentally cryogenically frozen for 20 years. They have to navigate the modern world and their new lives together.

Another good concept, but it ultimately descended into little more than a light work-place romance. Had a couple of good kissing scenes, but it was overall a bit forgettable.

And the DNF:

My Secret Romance

I started watching this because I was looking for something a little less PG - the characters have a one night stand in the first episode! But I couldn’t get passed the bad acting and cheap production.

Master’s Sun

I liked the premise but the 2 leads weren’t very attractive (at least in comparison to the insanely beautiful actors/actresses in the shows listed above). Call me superficial, but I couldn’t see myself spending 17 hours watching them and willing them to kiss.

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cherryblossomflowers · 3 years

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Day 25: Bless You

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Without Dean's knowledge, YN gets the family a gift that Dean can't really enjoy.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing

A/N: Day 25 of my writing challenge! *Bayley & Haley are the twin girls' names* No hate on any SPN Cast/Character. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

December One Shots Masterlist

At 5:00am, YN and Dean's bedroom door squeaked open. Bayley slowly walked into the room followed by Haley. When they got to the foot of the bed, they nodded to each other and climbed up.

Bayley crawled over to YN while Haley went for Dean. The girls shook their parents' shoulders to wake them up.

"Mommy! Mommy! Get up! Santa came!" Bayley shouted at her sleeping mother.

YN groaned and looked up, "What time is it?"

Dean copied her groan and looked at the clock, "5:02am."

"Daddy, come on. Get up," Haley whined, "It's Christmas!"

Dean sat up and stretched, "Okay, okay. I'm up. You two go downstairs. Mommy and I will be there in a second."

Bayley and Haley jumped down from the bed and ran out of the room in a fit of giggles. Dean turned to his wife, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. She chuckled and rolled over to face him.

"Good morning, beautiful," Dean whispered to her.

"Morning," she yawned, "You know, I used to love waking my parents up this early for Christmas. And now I know how they felt."

Dean chuckled, "I know, I did it too. But if you get up, I'll make coffee and we can unwrap presents."

When he said presents, YN gasped and sat up, "Oh, I totally forgot!"

"Forgot what?" he asked.

She stepped out of the bed and grabbed her robe, "There was a present I couldn't exactly wrap, so I left it in the garage," she grabbed her slippers and bolted out of the room while yelling, "Just meet me in the living room!"

Dean sat in the bed extremely confused at YN's sudden burst of energy. He shrugged it off and stood from the bed. He grabbed his own robe and slippers, and put them on.

As he left the bedroom, he closed the door behind himself and stretched a little more. He slowly descended the stairs, smiling as he listened to his girls' laughter and chatter coming from the living room.

He walked into the kitchen and started the coffee maker. While he was getting mugs for himself and YN, he watched her walk in from the garage with a large box. It wasn't wrapped and it had holes all around it.

"What in the world is that?" he asked her.

"Shh, Dean," YN glared at him, "It's a Christmas present. And we're all going to open it once you get your ass in the living room."

"Well do you want coffee or not?"

"I think I'm awake enough without it for now. Come on!"

Dean groaned as he followed YN into the living room. They walked over and sat down together on the couch. YN set the large box on the ground.

"Girls, we need to open this one first," she said to her daughters.

"Why this one, Mommy?" Bayley asked.

YN glanced to Dean, "Because this is a family present. Something Santa brought all of us. But we have to open it together."

Bayley and Haley stood and ran over to their parents. Dean's eyes never left YN, wondering what was up her sleeve. Everyone put their hands on the box and were ready to open it.

YN looked between her daughters and Dean, "All right, on the count of 3. 1...2...3!"

They pulled open the top of the box. The squeal and cheering from the girls let YN know this was a great idea. The concern from her husband, however, made her wonder what was going on in his head.

"A kitty?!" Haley asked, "We got a kitty!?"

"Yes. She's the new addition to the Winchester family," YN explained.

Bayley lifted the kitten out of the box, "She's so cute and fluffy!" she looked at her mom, "What's her name?"

YN chuckled, "Well, that's for you two to decide."

Dean cleared his throat, "YN, can we talk in the kitchen for a moment?"

He abruptly stood from the couch and made his way to the kitchen. YN rolled her eyes and followed her husband to the kitchen.

Dean stood leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, "YN, what the hell!?" he whispered.

"What?" she questioned him, "You said we needed some kind of pet in the house, Dean."

"Yes. A dog, a bird, hell I'd even take a Guinea pig. But a cat?!"

YN shrugged, "What's wrong with a cat? They're easy to take care of, they're great pets, they're so sweet and fluffy and cute-"

"You're totally glancing over the fact that I'm allergic," Dean interrupted her.

"I know you say you are, but you've never been around cats," YN crossed her arms, "How do you know you haven't outgrown it?"

Dean groaned and stormed out of the kitchen. YN watched him walk over to the girls and take the cat from their arms. He walked back into the kitchen with the cat laying on his arm.

YN stood there and watched him, "What are you doing?"

"Just wait," he stared at her.

They stood in silence for a moment, neither Dean or YN moved a muscle. The cat purred in Dean's arms, which made a smile form on YN's face.

"Awe, she loves you Dean," YN said, "And see? I knew you had outgrown-"

YN was interrupted when Dean bent over with a sneeze. He stood up and rubbed his eyes. The cat was wide awake in Dean's arms now and no longer purring.

"Okay, so maybe not," YN winced.

"Told you," he sniffed, "I'm sorry, YN, but we can't keep the cat."

Bayley peeked her head into the kitchen, "What? We can't keep her?"

"But she was a gift from Santa," Haley said.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Girls, I'm sorry. I know you love her, but-"

"Daddy, Santa brought her as a gift for Christmas," Haley crossed her arms.

"And he said he was for the family," Bayley her sister's stance.

YN bent down to her daughters, "Well, girls, sometimes the gifts from Santa don't work out well."

"But he's Santa Claus, Mommy. He always gets the perfect gifts. He knows everything," Haley argued.

"Apparently he didn't know that Daddy was allergic," Dean mumbled under his breath before bending over with another sneeze.

YN took a deep breath and sighed, "Bayley, Haley, I'm sorry. But Daddy is really allergic to cats. Which means we can't keep the kitten."

Bayley whined, "But, Mommy-"

"No buts, baby girl. Maybe tomorrow we can take her to a shelter and pick out a puppy instead," YN suggested.

"No, we don't want a puppy!" Haley yelled, "We want the kitty!"

YN groaned, "Girls-"

Bayley ran up to Dean, "Please, Daddy? Can't we keep her?"

"Yeah, Daddy," Haley ran over to the other side of him, "She's a Winchester. We have to keep her."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Girls, we can't-"

Bayley interrupted him, "Please?"

Haley tagged along, "Pretty please?"

"Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"Oh, and a cherry on top?"

Bayley and Haley brought out their puppy eyes, pouted their lips, and whined a bit for good measure. YN looked between the girls and Dean, chuckling at the sight in front of her.

She slowly watched as Dean's cold, icy heart was melting away at their daughters' cuteness. Normally Dean could stand his ground and say no to his daughters' puppy faces, but not when his wife also gets involved.

YN pouted her lips and bat her eyelashes at Dean, "Come on, Dean. You can't say no to these faces, can you?"

Dean looked between YN, Bayley, and Haley, "You're not going to get me this time."

Then he looked down at the kitten in his arms. She looked up at him and gave the tiniest little meow he had ever heard.

And he broke.

"Fine! We can keep the cat," he groaned, "I'm going to regret this."

Bayley and Haley cheered and danced around the kitchen. YN leaned over and kissed Dean's cheek. She took the kitten from his arms and handed her back to their daughters.

"Thanks, Daddy!" Bayley and Haley said in unison as they ran back to the living room.

Dean turned to his wife, "How am I supposed to be the tough parent when you three gang up on me like that?"

YN shrugged, "I have no idea what you're talking about, babe," she pointed to the living room, "Shall we open the rest of the presents?"

"Sure," Dean replied as he bent over with another sneeze.

She walked back to the living room with Dean right behind her. They sat down on the couch and watched as the girls began to tear into their other presents.

A half hour later, there was wrapping paper everywhere and the girls were overjoyed with their gifts. Dean and YN also exchanged their gifts while their daughters opened their own.

While everyone opened their gifts, Dean excused himself to the bathroom for a few minutes. He walked back to the living room with a tissue box in hand.

He fell back on the couch and rubbed his eyes, "This sucks."

"I know honey, and I'm sorry," YN kissed his cheek.

He turned to her, "It's okay. As long and the girls are happy and you're happy, then I'll always be happy."

"I love you," YN said to her husband.

Dean smiled at her, "I love you, too."

YN looked at her girls, "Did you decide on a name for the kitten yet?"

"We're thinking Angel," Bayley answered.

"Because she's our little angel just like how Bayley and I are Daddy's little angels!" Haley giggled.

YN chuckled, "I think that's perfect, girls," she turned to her husband, "You know, honey, this might be my favorite Christmas ever. We really are blessed."

Dean suddenly ripped a tissue from the box and bent forward with a loud sneeze, causing everyone in the room to jump.

He groaned as he looked up at his wife, "I don't feel very blessed right now."

YN smiled and kissed his cheek, "Bless you."

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @smollestbean-2 @kitwithnokat

@idksupernatural @desiredposion @thevelvetseries @let-me-luve-you

@obsessedwithfandomsx @mangueweaschester @starchildwild @deans-baby-momma

@spnbaby-67 @unicornmadness2444

@emery--nicole--morrison @spnfamily-j2 @akshi8278 @avocadogirl216

@imthedoctorlove @wecantgiggleitsafandom

#spn #supernatural #Dean Winchester #Dean #Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #CherryBlossomWritingChallenge

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

i wanna know what love is

Pairing: rockstar! sebastian stan x writer!reader

Warnings: sebastian is a bit of a prick in this one

A/N: uni is now at home, nothing do, cleaned to whole room three times and watched my guilty pleasure movie rock of ages. so i decided to write some fanfic about it. hope you enjoy it x

Next Chapter

It had been the most prolonged four hours of her whole life. Between crying children to the man sat next to her, always trying his luck, Y/N had started to completely lose her sanity. Luckily for her, she now had her feet down on the ground, LA ground much to her excitement. She had finally managed to get her first interview with someone who was pretty much considered a rock god for most people with the magazine she’d grown up reading.

However, after standing outside the famous Vixen Bar for almost 3 hours in a memorable LA freezing night, she was starting to wonder if her editor in chief had just played a cruel joke on her. It wouldn’t be the first time Jason had sent her out to catch imaginary stories.

- Excuse me. - she tapped the shoulder of one of the bouncer’s who made her jump once he turned to face her. He was tall enough to crush her with just one hand and the courage she had gathered to complain about her situation vanished. - I’m ... I’m with ...

- Rolling Stone. - he said pointing at the lanyard she had around her neck with her carrying her Rolling Stone press pass. His face softened, which made her breath calm down significantly. - Why didn’t you say so, Miss ...

- Wiley, Y/N Wiley. - she extender her hand to him, trying to be the most professional she could. She could do this, she was a good writer, she could write an article, she could do this. - I’m afraid it’s my first time ... here.

- First time in LA? - he guided her onto the inside of the club, which was a drastic change from the outside. It was sweating hot inside without any sort of heating, people were clustered and bumping against each other, some even behind the bar, and the music was overwhelming. She could see the spirit bottles on the shelves moving and trembling due to how loud it was. Everywhere she looked, there were people dancing and people doing things which she would never dream of doing in public. The odd smell of smoke and MJ, along with sweat, seemed to be the only thing that her senses could pick up. This was definitely different from what she knew.

The bouncer guided her to the back where a few girls along with a man were clustered outside a wooden door with a red star that seemed to have slowly faded over time turning into a mix of wood and red colouring. The bouncer told her to wait where she was as he went to speak to the man in the middle of all the girls. He was short and chubby with a head of hair that seemed to be receding and balding on the top and a sense of style that looked taken straight of Hugh Hefner’s wardrobe.

- Jeff Williams, mam. - he presented himself, giving her a toot aching smile and extending his hand which she shook. - Where’s Margaret?

- Uhm Margaret is not coming. I’m Y/N Wiley, my editor sent me here to interview ...

- Another new girl. - he rolled his eyes, turning on his back to walk to the red star door, giving it a few harsh knocks before popping his head in. The bouncer gestured her to come closer to the door, which was now fully open. She walked inside what looked like a fresher’s university room filled with empty bottles of whiskey, rum and beer along with bits of rolling tobacco sprinkled in some areas of the floor and some girls by the minibar. The man who had spoken to her before walked to the couch where a man was laying down, hat on top of his head seemingly sleeping. How was he sleeping in the middle of such a messy atmosphere she didn’t know, what she did know was that all of this was a far cry from what she had envisioned a rock star’s room to look like. After all, he certainly could afford to have someone at least vacuum the room. - Seb, Rolling Stone is here.

- You can’t just fucking leave me alone, can you? - he lazily pushed the hat off his face, locking eyes with Y/N. He had shoulder-length shaggier hair, much longer than what she had seen in old magazines, with dark bags under his electric blue eyes which seemed to want her more dead than alive. - Where’s Margaret?

- They sent her they say her name is Wavey .. Whinney?

- Wiley. - Y/N cleared her throat, trying to gain as much courage as she possibly could. - My name’s Y/N Wiley, I was sent here by my editor to talk about your departure from Fever.

- Well, I’ll leave you two to it. - Jeff turned to Sebastian, pointing the finger at him as to intimidate him, but it looked to have no effect. The man seemed to either not care or just fully drunk on what she guessed were the many empty bottles on the floor. - Play nice.

He walked off the room, calling for the girls who whined as they followed the chubby man waving their goodbyes to the man standing in front of her. The door forcibly shut, making her hold onto her pad and recorder even tighter. She kept trying to tell herself she could do this, she had graduated top of her close, she was a good writer, and good writers can interview and write about everyone.

- You’re too young to be a senior writer, who did you have to suck off to get this job? - he sat back on the couch, grabbing a half-empty bottle of what seemed to be rum. She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to process if what she heard was what he had said. - Are you gonna be standing up all time?

- I’m an intern. - she said sternly, taking place on a chair by a table full of more empty bottles. - However, Mr Stan, this interview is about you not about me.

- 5 minutes. - he replied, eyes lingering over at his watch.

- Sorry, what? - she opened her pad and pressed record on her recorder. He had to be joking.

- You’re losing time, sweetheart.

- Right. - she looked over at the notes she had taken about him before it. Her hands were shaking and what she was once proud of calling her organised notes looked like pure rubbish to her now. - You ... you are one of the most famous figures in contemporary rock music, writing big hits which went on to sell millions of copies, why ... why did you decide to become a musician?

- Felt like it. - he shrugged, taking another sip from his rum bottle. - Do you always dress like a child or ...

- With such success with a band, why are you leaving now when the group is doing better than before? - she ignored his previous judgment, skipping ahead so she would have enough material to write about him when all she wanted to do is brand him as a cocky god complex owning idiot.

- Well, you see ... - he cleared his throat, grabbing the recorder from the table where it stood. - I think due to the constant change within the music industry, the difference in cultural trends and when you think of blah blah blah and blah blah blah ... Four minutes.

He broke into laughter, staring at her as if expecting her to laugh right back or rush out of the door, but she stood there. She stood there, holding onto her pass as if she wanted to rip it and strangle him with it.

- You know, sweetheart, you are not good at this writing thing.

- You know, sweetheart ... - she mocked his tone. - Some people have said that you’ve become quite challenging to work with. That you’re consistently late, you’re reclusive, sometimes even nonsensical.

- And who are those people who are speaking about and what do they know about me?

- Well, I’m talking about your band.

- Let me tell you something, Miss Wiley. I know me better than anybody else. Better than my group, better than the media and much better than those stupid notes you have with you. I know me because I am me. Three minutes.

- Do you think that because you’re shut off so many people in your life and avoided changing your behaviour that your only choice is to go solo? - she switched into attack mode which seemed to surprise the man standing next to her who placed the bottle right down with enough force to break it.

- Is your daddy rich, is this why they gave you the job?

- Right ... - she grounded herself once more, not expecting her very first job to be this harsh but understanding why no one else had tried to steal her place to interview Sebastian Stan. - You were born in Romania raised by a single mother. Dropped out of high school at 17. When you were 19 you met your ...

- Time. - he looked at the clock, getting up from his seat.

- When you met your bandmates in this very club ...

- I said time. - he stopped the recorder. He gestured the men who were guarding the door to open it. - You can go now and next time don’t dress like a school teacher.

- Final question. - Y/N got up following him as he walked to the bar to grab another bottle of the millions he had. He turned to face her, a red bottle in hand along with a look of pure carelessness. - What happens when you realise that you have become a joke for new coming artists?

- You have no idea what’s it like to be me, Miss Wiley. - he snapped the cap of the bottle, pouring himself a shot and downing it in record time. She had to give it to him, it was a rather exciting time.

- Well then here’s your chance. What’s it like to be THE Sebastian Stan?

- I don’t know honey, maybe you should check your notes or call someone who can do this job properly.

At this moment the chubby man from before made a bee-line towards the two of them which were ready to start a brawl, except one of them was way too professional to do something.

- Right, I hope you got everything you wanted you can ... - the man was interrupted by Y/N stepping forward, nerves straight off the window.

- You are not misunderstood at all.

- Why don’t you tell me what I am then? - he raised his brow at her, a smug smile on his face.

- You’re a man-child stuck in a rut who refuses to acknowledge the fact that he lost his career due to careless behaviour.

- I love it when you talk dirty.

- You know Sebastian, you used to be great. All the musicians I know wanted to be you, but whatever made you great is far far gone.

- That’s right, give it to me rough. - he chuckled at her, not caring about anything of what she was saying.

- Now you are just another rocker asleep at the wheel, singing the same songs you wrote years ago. And as long as you have this team that keeps supplying you with alcohol and girls, they’re gonna keep you asleep, and you’ll eventually drive off a cliff and be removed from music history.

- Line crossed. - the chubby man grabbed her arm. - Time to go, Miss Wiley.

- Don’t touch me. - she shook her arm away from him. - You used to write great songs, you used to be great ... What happened?

- You know what, I’m calling your editor. - Jeff grabbed his phone from his pocket, dialling his number. - Jason, great guy, we’re friends. I’ll fix this for you, Sebastian.

- Get out. - he spoke in an almost whisper-like tone, eyes glued to hers virtually as if he didn’t dare to blink.

- My words exactly, mate. This interview is over. - Jeff put his hand over the phone, gesturing at one of the guards to come and grab her.

- No, no, no. Not her. - he pointed at Jeff. - You. All of you.

- Copy that. Everybody out. - he gave her an almost death threatening look as even the guards left the room, leaving the two of them completely alone. Sebastian scanned through his drink cabinet, grabbing a bottle and pouring two shots, sending one her way.

- I don’t drink, thank you. - she pushed it right back to him, hearing him mutter ‘have it your way’ before downing both of them. - Are you gonna answer any of my questions or ...

- Off the record, you’d make an excellent groupie. - he said and like that the straw finally broke her back and she turned on her heels and stormed off the room.

- Wait ... Wiley ... - he followed her until the door. - WILEY! Come back tomorrow.

- I’d rather not. - she turned on her heel, knowing precisely what to write once she got back to the hotel.

- Promise it’ll be worth your while and maybe you’ll impress your editor.

- You’re a drunk, why should I trust you?

- Because you’re an intern who wants to be a senior writer.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan au #sebastian imagine #seb imagine

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orangenfrottee · 3 years

Note

Hey ho there, feel free to ignore this and I hope I'm not bugging you as I awkwardly slide in here, but I must ask: if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Ah!!! Thank you for your ask <3 I might have spent a couple nights typing out my answer, but in short: I'd cherry pick old story arcs, bring back everyone I like and who doesn't run when they hear Riverdale's calling.

I'd definitely get some decent writers (I'm partial to Jane Espenson, but no idea if she'd be a good fit) and definitely some diversity. I might accidentally fire all men and then play up all their shitty recurring themes for fun as a weird inside joke between me and the show.

I think if they ever gave me creative control of the show it would swerf hard to the crazy and not leave that lane because honestly, i think that's what Riverdale does best.

So, where would I start...

Instead of giving season four a decent ending, I would start with an extra long pilot with the title 'previously on' where the best and most important bits of the teens' school lives is shown with a heavy focus on Jason and the Farm. Parallely, we get to see the lovestory of Chic and Charles. The episode ends with a few very short scenes of the prom where everyone's happy and pretty.

Then we'd start on the real season five. It's been seven years and our characters are older and more grown up.

The show would at first only present the present lifesbof our characters and the barest bones structure to keep as much a little mysterious as possible (but here I tell you what happened during timeskip, too).

Archie is often considered the main character, so let's start with him:

Archie went to the Army after school (though he didn't actually pass his exams and thus didn't graduate, Mr Honey was quite amused). On his most recent tour he met someone special: Eric, his new friend.

Archie was wounded in battle with a... giant mutated elephant with sharp teeth and hallucinogenic venom. Or something. He isn't really sure what happened, but he's got a huge new scar all over his torso. The abs stayed in tact, but oh his pride. During recovery he met new wheelchair user (and on occasion crutches) Eric who has trouble walking since his legs are misshapen/he only has one. Archie thinks Eric got maimed by the same elephant he was, but thinks it rude to ask.

For Eric I'm picturing Sabrina's Ambrose.

With his hurt pride, Archie can't stay with the military and decides to go back to Riverdale.

Eric doesn't have a place to go, so Archie invites him along.

They need a job and since Eric has a calendar full of sexy half naked firefighters AND since they both have abs, Archie decides that type of uniform is the perfect fit for them and trades his newly renovated and well running boxing gym against the old fire station Penelope Blossom owns. (Literally, they even meet at Pop's to exchange keys and sign papers Penelope brought that Archie doesn't even skim.)

The fire station is quite out of everything, but it has a huge pool Eric likes to swim in and a fire truck. To make ends meet Archie sells his sperm to the Greendale sperm bank.

Archie is of course in love with Eric but unfamiliar with the concept of bisexuality and struggles to identify his attraction for what it is. Eric is a foreigner to Riverdale (or is he?) and unfamiliar with the town's culture and quirks. Still, something going on in Sweetwater River seems to be related to him.

Archie and Eric share the Andrews' House - and in the house next door... live Gladys Jones and Polly Cooper!

After Jughead and Betty left for College Alice' horrid mom impulses settled on Jellybean who didn't stand back, grind her teeth and took it but instead broke Alice' teeth. Her and FP were not amused (though FP was also angry at Alice for being too strict). Alice moves out but stays as a journalist in town.

FP gets in trouble for being a brutal gang leader without a gang beating up criminals behind the boxing gym on tape. Not wanting to go to an illegal fighting club prison, he hides with Canadian Serpents behind the border. (Joaquin's identical twin brother and Ricky live there, too. They're happy there.)

Maybe he'd call once or twice with misleading wrong snake facts that have nothing to do with the current mystery of the episode but fit into perfectly by chance.

Jellybean was invited along, but she chose to stay because she thinks Riverdale is rad and the old Cooper House is luxurious as hell. Also, her mom came back to become the new Sheriff!

Nearly seven years in, Gladys still holds the position because no one legally qualified wants it and she manages to keep gang violence at an all time low for Riverdale. Plus, she and Mary Andrews are not exactly friends but able to work well together. When there's another serial killer running wild in town she has no problem with having another girlfriend of Mary who happens to be a skilled professional in the most relevant field take over for a bit. If needed, the Riverdale gangs are usually willing to add muscle to good causes, too.

Jellybean has left Riverdale for university and will only be present for holidays and breaks. She'd still be played by Trinity because I love her and honestly, real nineteen year olds look like fourteen year olds everywhere in the world. Also this gives the viewers 'Archie vision': he will always see his best friend's toddling baby sister in the young woman which makes her the only undatable (legal) female on this planet for him.

While attending Riverdale High she lead the Andrews Boxing Gym and made it the most successful gym in the area. It won't be a plot point in the show (apart from her being angry at Archie for just trading it against trash) but there will be framed newspaper articlesband the like in Gladys' house.

Around the time everyone graduated, Polly was released from Shady Grooves and is back to her old smart self - and really missing her babies! As Choni leave for whatever private college Blossom women have always gone to, Polly takes them and goes home - just to learn on the porch that not only did her mother sell her childhood home more than a year ago without anyone ever telling her, the college fund she never had gotten legal access to and planned to use for the twins is gone too and her sister left town without saying goodbye.

Gladys has always taken care of all the stray kids she found no matter how tight the budget was and now there's this young desolate mother with twin toddlers in front of her posh murder house she'd gotten for cheap and she has this new gig as sheriff. Of course, she takes them in.

They stay in Betty's old room at first, but they soon get to remodel the attic to give Polly her own room. At present, Dagwood has Polly/Chic/JB's old room and Juniper the one facing Archie's. (When Archie sees her in the room, he actually has a flashback once to when he and Betty used to be so young, but then Juniper turns her gead, stares at him really creepily and smiles weirdly. Archie will be somewhat scared from then onwards and be reminded of when everyone thought Polly might gave killed Jason. Juniper would murder.)

At first, Polly's a full time, stay at home mom, but once the kids are older, she starts working part-time: for Gladys.

It turns out they work amazing together. Gladys tends to jump to convenient conclusions and threatens violence way to freely. Also, she is intimidating as fuck.

Polly is everything she isn't: level headed (to a point, in comparison at least), brilliant at combining clues and steering people (remember how she infiltrated Thornhill and made Cheryl unknowingly assist in her snooping plans?). On top of that, she has these stepford smiles and all the ways to appear unthreatening drillend into her head. Honestly, she and Betty are quite alike. While Betty has the lockpicking skills and knows her way around cars, Polly used to be really into fashion (or something) and, with all her experiences at the Sisters, the Farm and Shady Groves, Polly knows psychology.

She started solving some of Gladys' cases at the breakfast table, but now she's officially a deputy or an advisor or something. They're essentially like FP and Jughead, just that Polly is an adult (and that she wouldn't be in a gang beating suspects up regularly).

(These characters would all be mostly in the background though.)

Veronica finally gained perspective on her relationship to her father and grew up. Hiram's cut out of her life for good. They won't ever interact. (In fact, Hiram either moved to New York or he had a minor traffic accident where he lost all of his memory for good and now lives as Ram Rod and works as a trainer at Penelope's newly acquired boxing gym. Everyone is confused about it but doesn't care to ask.)

Veronica is successful at whatever she's doing and doesn't plan on ever moving back to Riverdale, but maybe something is up at Pop's that requires her checking up on in person and she just happens to cross paths with Betty who is also just there for the weekend. And they haven't had quality time together for years, because it's so hard to stay in contact sometimes even with people you love so much you'd die to keep them safe.

If I could come up with something meaningful for them to catch up on emotionally, I'd have them sitting together in a booth at Pop's for a whole episode just talking (but I'm not that deep).

Veronica might be engaged, but we see it fall through without really getting to meet the guy. She mostly just talks to Betty about him on occasion but in a somewhat messed up way. Ultimately, she realises how she treats him in some regards like Hiram treated her and her mother. She wants to grow up further and not be like her father anymore. Since the fiance was only a trophy pawn, she breaks it off and concentrates on introspection/ maybe therapy for a bit.

Later that season her sister comes back and surprise: Hermosa embraced becoming Daddy.

(These would have to be restricted to two half episodes only, she definitely deserves story arcs that aren't about her dad.)

Careerwise: she has a couple businesses, maybe a restaurant chain or a franchise and she seems to collect startups. She reinvests a lot and has to travel quite a bit but can work remotely too.

Everyone seems to want FBI agent Betty and if I'd go that route I'd have her demask Charles as the fraude fake FBI who hires guns for hire and fake emergency teams while making up fantasy horror stories about serial killer genes to scare his biological family into killing each other that I wholeheartedly believe he is. But I also like Betty's interest in mechanics and would love for her to have a career in mechanical engineering. Maybe she switched majors at uni and now works for a company developing prosthetics. Maybe she tries to get Eric into joining a study. (I mean, prosthetic legs would help his work as a fire fighter...).

She's in town to visit Polly and the twins but after talking to Veronica she spontaneously stays in town. She can do her work remotely, really. The two of them move into a two bedroom 'shared bnb' (or whatever it was called in season two) and we finally get to see their friendship on screen.

Betty isn't in a relationship at the moment abd she's so into her work, she isn't looking for one either.

Jughead had broken up with Betty seven years ago and never really had a well working relationship after. He's grown obsessed with finding a way to recreate what he had with Betty.

Not in a totally creepy psycho way, he's simply not understanding that he might be sex positive and he had been in love with Betty, but he is ace and quite aro, too. It doesn't help, that he finds people sexually attractive on their online profiles just to be repulsed by the tought of even kissing them goodbye in person.

(I don't think tv is generally a fitting medium for this, but I guess he can narrate for himself and make it work.)

I guess he has to be an author. Obsessed as he is about finding love again (he wouldn't call it like that) he figures it had either been the location or the constant fear for his life. He chooses to return to Riverdale. He probably instantly moves with everything he owns to Riverdale (not that it's much beside a modern laptop, the typewriter and his camera).

Archie gives the great advice how Jughead is obviously still innlove with Betty, duh.

He of course runs into Betty some day, they end up investigating some random murder together and find themselves in familiar positions and kiss - but it just isn't there anymore. Jughead feels nothing and Betty isn't really into it either.

Veronica later points him in the direction of maybe not being allo (because she used to question herself as aro).

Funfact: Jughead would have failed graduation with Archie if Mr Honey didn't forge some records that weren't actually submitted from Stonewall (they claim all records were deleted during a power outage). Jughead knows and is deeply shamed.

Thornhill has been renovated! Toni is pregnant! Choni will be raising their kids (surprise, it's going to be twins!) in Cheryl's ancestral home. Choni are married and happy.

Toni has reopened the White Worm with Fangs somewhere at the Southside and yes, let's make her the official Serpent Queen. Let her work lots of social causes (remember toys for tots?), grey area rule bending for good and of course she works well with Gladys. I've seen talk about her being a social worker floating around and honestly, I think that works amazing. She's working the local cases (and a few unofficial ones) and I think she and Cheryl are registered foster parents. On occasion (like once) they'd be shown taking care of a random kid.

Cheryl used her College time to study two things: business and Riverdale town history. Remember how in season two she took so much pride in her ancestors because she believed them to be good people? She might be disillusioned but she is the Blossom heiress and her and Toni's as well as Jason's kids will one day inherit a better family legacy. She'll invest in Southside rebuilding projects, advocate for new town memorials, maybe rebrand some of the Blossom product lines. Something like that

She won't run for mayor yet, but she's definitely invested in (local) politics.

Of course the pregnancy was with artificial insemination, the donor was either an unsuspecting red head from the Greendale Sperm Bank or they use some of Jason's that has surly been saved to guarantee the Blossom line when everywhere was scary talk about sperm counts going down due to mobile phones.

In addition: the maple factories need worker bees! Cheryl has a few programs with Toni to get Serpents/random Riverdalians newly released from prison or just with bad luck into a steady job and a cushy appartement overlooking the ex prison on the Southside. Pop's is also participating. Ethel works as a landlady for said appartement complex.

Also, why not add a second Blossom-Topaz lovestory to underline this incest-adjacent show and bring back Toni's grandpa and set him up with Nana Blossom. XD

Then during this season's arc, the Blossom uncle's corpse will be found in the river and the mistery is whether the FBI will figure out who the corpse us and what happened or not.

I love Reggie. Since Varchie is unlikely thanks to Eric, him and Veronica rekindling their relationship would definitely be a possibility I'm into, but he also seems to have an interesting connection with Kevin and Fangs that could be built on.

He would definitely have a car he'd love very much and I think it would still be Bella.

I'm not sure about his career, but it wouldn't include his father's car dealership. Maybe he'd be a successful movie star just in town between movie shootings.

Kevin was doing something with musicals on Katy Keene, I think? Writing or directing? He was trying to nake it big, but some plans fell through. Now he's back in Riverdale. Luckily, they are just about to open Riverdale's first theater in the relatively newly built but forever closed prison. Next to the Southside Theater the complex holds a mall and the White Worm.

Fangs works full time as the manager of the WW that he co-owns with Toni. He meets Kevin again once he's back in town.

Sweet-Pea somehow ended up as a junior doctor at the Riverdale hospital. He spends all of his scarce free time at the WW.

Some of the background Pretty Poisons officially work for the police now. Different than Gladys, they are actually ccccc for the positions they hold.

Peaches works as a manager for one of Cheryl's companies. She's happily married and has a kid (or something).

How long in prison do you get in the US for standing in as the head figure of a crazy pen and paper cult that has literal murders committed in his name? As a blond white dude probably just parole? So honestly, once they actually bring his case to court (and they have nothing against him because anyone could have been under the mask at any one time and people know of different gargoyle kings) he's released of all charges. No one in Riverdale actually knows though since his case took forever, Bughead had already left Riverdale and Alice didn't step up to follow the case. No one wrote about it, so no one knows. They just assume that of course the guy will be locked away forever, he's guilty.

In reality, he and Charles have bought a house somewhere in a different street of Riverdale where they aren't quite known and have adopted a couple kids.

Charles meets Alice regularly for lunch and she thinks he's this workaholic FBI agent only living for solving crime. They play a long con game I don't know the goal of.

(They have been behind the tapes even if that storyline gets totally ignored. They pretend FP being in exile is their doing, but the tape responsible was just a random security camera in the area.)

Josie's plans in New York sadly fell through (I haven't seen any Katy Keene but I want her back)

Lot's of bonding scenes with her brother Kevin who's also back in town. The two share a flat and on occasion burst into song together. Since I've already invented the Southside Theater, maybe she'd find a job there, too.

Val and Melody stayed in Riverdale aftee highschool and made careers in town for themselves. Maybe Melody at city hall and Val as a marketing specialist at the farm, Riverdale's most outstanding new grocery mart. Half of all Riverdalians don't get the controversy of the name, the others either think it's brilliant or tasteless. (Kevin for example has repressed the nemories so gard, he doesn't get it. Josie is very protective and angry at Val for working there.) The store belongs to the eccentric redhaired Eva Everafter or whatever pseudonym Evelyn can come up with to thinly hide her identity behind.

Somewhere in it I'd throw in a few lines vaguely referencing older happenings like "I still can't drink tap water" and the very first time Veronica sees Archie again after seven years she identifies him through his ab muscles.

So in short: Archie would be very dumb, everyone else is just there.

Also: Pop's would serve 50% vegan burgers and milkshakes so I could dig in with gusto.

#riverdale speculation #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale #asks #arsenicpanda #fun #my writing #i guess

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kitchenangst · 4 years

Text

Love in space? It’s more likely than you think.

Summary: (Bakugou Katsuki x gender neutral!reader) Fuck space, that shit ain’t easy. Also, listen to the Among Us menu music.

Warnings: swearing, mutual pining?, dialogue heavy, characters’ deaths (including yours), mild gore, maybe ooc Bakusquad and deku team, last names only, Among Us terms used ((listen, i only played on skeld LOL) and very bad writing in 2nd POV -- lmk if I need more any specific warnings!

Word Count: 4401

Prompts: “I don’t mind if it’s you” + Among Us!BNHA (no quirks)

a/n: hi!! it’s my first time writing for BNHA, second POV, head cannons, angst AND gore,,, No like, I kid you not when I say there’s mild gore . Anyway, this is for @fromthewatertribe ’s 1k event!!!! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I wrote it!! happy reading :))

Hey just because you’re on the botanical team does not mean you get to skip out on team workouts with the rest of the crew!! For a plant nerd, you sure love making everything in the gym a competition and Kirishima, Mina, Iida, Uraraka, and Deku very much live for it

(Bakugou says it’s stupid, but joins anyway. He says it’s because he likes to watch everyone’s despair when he wins first place again.

Kaminari surprisingly gets top 3, while Todoroki, Sero, and Tsuyu join just to humor you and maybe add more fire to the competition; they absolutely don’t care about winning but they love making the others struggle)

Anyway, you guys have been preparing for Mission Polus for a LONG time now, and the playful tension between the crews on Ships UA, ShKs (Shiketsu), and LoV (League of Villains) was only making you guys more fired up than usual in your workouts and preparation

UA, being the biggest team, was going to launch last--only because Kaminari confidently lost in rock, paper, scissors,,, but no biggie! That just meant when ShKs and LOV land, everything should be prepped for you guys when you arrive!

Except, you find out things don’t come out as planned when UA arrives at the second checkpoint

“I just got word that Ships ShKs and LoV’s crew is cut in half,” you start off grimly

“Hold on--like, the lower or upper half of their body?”

You decided against your better judgement about throwing the closest thing at Sero until Kaminari added in, “Left half? Or right half?”

Y’know what? Maybe you’ll just throw him out of the ship.

Apparently, it was initially thought to be some space flu

“If it’s that bad, then… Why are they still continuing the mission? Shouldn’t they handle it back at base?”

It’s probably the smartest question you’ve ever heard from Kaminari. “If it is some contagious space virus, they don’t want it to spread on Earth.”

“Whatever it is, it must be evolving fast. LoV is halfway to the 5th checkpoint, and ShKs is a quarter way to the 4th checkpoint. If they both received it around checkpoint 3 and they’re down to half their people… I just hope they’re quarantining.”

“Good thing you mention that, Deku. LoV and ShKs are changing course to go straight to Polus, and they’re going through the safety measures and cleaning procedures. Meanwhile, we’ll be skipping the 3rd and 4th checkpoints; we’ll pick up all the supplies and materials at the 5th checkpoint.

“If the other ships’ flu or whatever started around the 3rd checkpoint, we don’t want to be infected. We’re probably setting everything up ourselves when we get to Polus.”

Everyone is staring at you as they process this new information and you’d be surprised that Bakugou hasn’t said a word all meeting if it weren’t for the grave news this brought.

“Which means we’ll have to ration our food supply…” Uraraka is the first to break the silence, and you pass a guilty look as you see the realization fall on the rest

The meeting wouldn’t have ended well if it weren’t for Midoriya reassuring everyone that the growing fruit should last them (assuming it was being rationed as well).

By heading straight to the 5th checkpoint, you’d be saving a lot more time as well

Theoretically, things should have gone smooth sailing if Ship UA was changing course. And it would have if all the information was correct.

Uraraka found you frozen still near the corner of a bedroom when you didn’t return to the meeting. Having never seen you so shaken up before, all she could do was check whatever you were pointing at.

You watched with bated breath, hoping Uraraka wouldn’t have the same reaction as you, that this was all a bad dream, that this was a prank; because whatever it was, it wasn’t fucking funny considering that deaths on a ship were now a thing.

A month hasn’t even passed since the terrible news. Ship UA was nowhere near the third checkpoint; there’s no way anyone could have been infected

it was all you could repeatedly think to not spiral

You didn’t even notice when everyone else had arrive in the bedroom, only focusing on the screams and whispers and curses that continued to echo throughout the room and ring in your ear as everything suddenly turned dark; your hands instinctively grabbing onto whatever was around you

“Hey, it’s okay,” you heard, the familiar scent of pine not quite registering yet. “it’s alright, they’re taking care of it.”

You moved your head back to look at Bakugou, his face masking his fear well if it weren’t for the slight trembling in his hands holding you up. “‘It’?”

“The body. Mina’s body.” He took your hands still clutching onto the front of his suit, his gloved ones briefly squeezing yours to ground you. “C’mon, we’re discussing it in the meeting room.”

God, you felt your body run cold at the thought of Mina’s corpse being called it, but figured maybe you were looking a little too into details at the moment

You focused on your breathing as he dragged you to the meeting room, where no one knew what had gone wrong.

The only absurd detail was the hole that covered her palms, which left the rest of her body a sick, wrinkly grey.

Deku was worried if this was what the space flu was about and Iida suggested a 2 week quarantine where one person goes on deck at a scheduled time, while Uraraka was rubbing circles on your back despite being quite shaken herself.

“The only person who holds her hand is Kirishima”

“Whoa, whoa whoa--what does that have to do with-”

“Everything!” and now suddenly Kaminari thinks he’s a detective.

A space flu so dangerous that it could kill you overnight was less threatening compared to what kaminari was suggesting

“Not only that, you’re the only one who goes into her room at night!”

“TMI, but… that’s unusual, isn’t it? Kaminari makes a good point.” and it’s another thing to have Sero agreeing

“Are you suggesting we lock Kirishima in his room until he confesses his crime?” (What kind of fucking suggestion is that todoroki)

“No, I’m saying we just throw him off ship.”

Okay, now that fucking took you out of your shock...into a different shock… and it seems everyone had the same reaction at how serious Kaminari was.

“What the fuck are you suggesting, dunce face? We just lost a crewmate, and now you wanna toss someone out?”

“I’m being smart for once! What if Kirishima did that to Mina instead of some space slug?”

“First off, what about me suggests that I can even do something like that? To my girlfriend, no less! Do I have to repeat that there was a hole in her hand?”

Everyone waited for Kaminari’s response, to which he sighed and admitted that he was just thinking irrationally from this panic.

Iida and Bakugou agreed to install cameras in the hallway with a security room while everyone returned to fulfilling their duties

The mood on the ship went downhill from there with Mina’s passing on everyone’s mind. Especially yours and Kirishima’s.

Kirishima admitted that while he was hurt at Kaminari’s absurd suggestion, he still couldn’t hold it against him for panicking at the first death on the ship. Didn’t mean he had to talk to him though.

On the other hand, Bakugou often visited you in the plant room, the plant lab, just… you. Anywhere he could find you.

He told himself that he was just checking up on you, seeing if you were doing fine since Mina was one of the closest members to you

Maybe if he had known her death would cause such hurting to you, maybe he would have… no, he shakes his head and reminds himself it’s pointless to cry over spilled milk

You didn’t need to look to know he had brought you lunch; judging from the smell, he picked your favorite too

“You know we’re not supposed to eat in the plant room, right?”

“You know you’re not supposed to be skipping your stupid meal, right?”

“You know we’re supposed to be rationing our food, right?”

“Whatever, guess you don’t want my portion.”

Banter like this is what always made you break the rules to eat in peace with Bakugou the last few weeks, like how he pretended to seethe at your obnoxious munching

just the simple act of giving his portion to you was touching enough, and it made you relieved how he never touched on the topic of Mina’s death; only listening whenever you brought it up

You did, however, become concerned when he started giving you his full portion of lunch.

“No, I’m not hungry,” he’d say after you left him half his lunch, which, normally, you wouldn’t do! you always ate more than half!

He didn’t have an appetite, he’d insist. And he seemed uncomfortable talking about it, so you dropped the subject.

It didn’t stop you from guiltily eating his portions, though.

Motivation and optimism only went up when Uraraka and Tsuyu came out with decorations and stickers on their suits one day

(Sero had taped the tape roll to his head; Deku and Todoroki both carried a fake flower pot in their chest pocket;

Iida said his pen was decorative enough but put a car sticker on the side of his arm; Kirishima wore Mina’s bracelet on his ankle; and Kaminari took up bringing a toilet plunger with him everywhere.)

You brought up the cute headband with bear ears for Bakugou, and he gave you a paper crown he “spent 5 seconds making”

(it was just slightly bigger than your head, but it was in your favorite color)

Everything was fine, everyone was better, nothing bad has happened the past 2 months, and everything was going back to normal!

Until Tsuyu found blood in the drainage

(no one was on their period at the time either!!)

Bakugou stayed back with you in your restroom while everyone else prepped Sero’s body for discarding

He heard the heaving from his door, similar to the ones he had after his first meal. He recalls the stench of his being so awful, he could almost taste it bubbling at the back of his throat

So why did yours smell so sweet?

He continued rubbing and patting your back, the same way you had done for him awhile back. He kept telling himself it was because he didn’t want you to choke, but he knew it was to distract him from the smell

you slept in his arms the following few months when everyone agreed Sero’s death was done in cold blood, and no one knew who it was

The irony, he learned to love, was how you were the one who suggested the curfew, the placement of the cameras to be in the bedroom hallway and other places, and the idea that no one should go to each other’s rooms

yet you still wanted to be in his with him late into the night, to “take your mind off things” as you said, and you two would talk until the other fell asleep first

he loved that you broke your own rule to be with him

and he found it oddly comforting to feel the pressure of your head on his chest

and it was fascinating to him... that he could practically taste your fear when you had a nightmare, how you sought comfort in his arms first before anything else

he was probably enjoying it way more than he should when you trusted him this much to comfort you at night, to hold you, to not break you in more ways than one

his favorite part was having a routine with you

joining you in the lab at x o’clock to watch you take care of the plants, to make observations of you as you made yours on plants, hearing you talk about the progress of growing plants in space, kissing you-

wait, kissing you? that was new.

The forehead kisses when he left you to do his duties and before either of you fell asleep

the cheek kisses when he brought you lunch (you’re convinced that’s the payment for bringing you food)

the cute little peck you do on the corner of his mouth to stop him messing up the files in the lab

They were so tiny and often he hadn’t even noticed when they integrated themselves into this routine

it’s also why he wasn’t surprised when he leaned in to kiss you to stop your rambling

“there. as long as that’s there,” he gestured vaguely at whatever that was, “you aren’t going to die. not on my watch.”

“So that’s a thing now?” you raised an eyebrow in amusement

“What.”

“That.”

Oh don’t do that, don’t do that fucking grin of yours when you’re mocking his dismissive attitude

“Y’know. Seal of protection.”

He is not going to give in-

“You’ll do that when-”

God, who he is to resist when you’re practically asking him to shut you up

It’s been another few months since Sero’s death, and he had been cautious in taking advantage? of your emotional state? in taking a step further? --either way, he didn’t know what held him back in the first place and he wasn’t sure how to put it in words

He also didn’t know how to explain it to you that he couldn’t kiss you more than the simple peck anymore

not when he felt the sudden surge to take more of you and definitely not when his jaw was starting to hurt

And he didn’t know why he felt so relieved to have you be so understanding

Of course, everyone was still on their toes about a possible murderer on ship, but no one expected a sudden electrical outage

The nice thing about the lab was that it had a backup generator for lights, but it didn’t cover for the use of equipment

This wouldn’t normally be a problem, not when you still have months to go before reaching the 5th checkpoint, but you weren’t going to be a sitting duck waiting to look a plant cell

With a sigh, you began to make your way to electrical, hand sliding against the walls to make sure you wouldn’t trip over anyth-

honestly what the fuck, you swear you’re going to get Kaminari for leaving a puddle of water around with that plunger of his.

whatever, it’ll dry eventually. still a hazard though.

and honestly what the fuck, it’s been ten minutes and no one still hasn’t gotten the lights. the bystander effect is starting to make the crew lazy.

But no surprises here, only two people had gathered there, and stupidly, no one bothered to use a light to adjust the right switches.

When the lights got back on, Kirishima jumped at the sight of you.

“Relax, I just came here to fix the li-”

“No, not-”

“Why do you have blood on you?”

You turned to Deku, and fuck you haven’t seen him this scared since Mina and Sero’s passing

You’re about to ask what he means when you feel it

the crunch your gloves give, the stiffness of your suit, and you should’ve known the stickiness from your boots wasn’t from water

“What the-” it nearly sends you in a panic, to see your suit covered nearly everywhere-

“Whoa, hey, hey, stop!” Kirishima and Deku have to physically restrain you from trying to take your suit off with the way you’re digging at it

And it’s not too long before Kaminari and Bakugou come rushing in, panting from their sprint

There’s another four dead bodies.

And oh, oh, oh shit it looks so bad-

“It wasn’t Y/N.”

“And how are you so sure?”

“Just ask engine over here. We were watching security together, and there was still light coming from the lab. I only left when Y/N left, and there’s no way 4 fucking bodies could have been killed during that time.”

“Bakugou is, indeed, correct. The infrared cameras seem to have been shut down for some time now, so it’s hard to make out who was in the locations.”

Right, right. This was no fucking flu--you all confirmed that with Sero’s body.

It didn’t stop you from feeling sick to your stomach, though: seeing the scratches and marks on your 2 crew mates to the point of no recognition

even worse when you saw the same sickly grey skin on the other two with holes in their palms as well

Mina’s had happened over night... there was no way a slug or flu killed them within 10 minutes

Kaminari points out Deku’s locations before the lights went out

Iida vouches for Bakugou and you (Bakugou vouches for him, too, of course)

and Deku, Iida, and Bakugou vouch for you

....why couldn’t anyone vouch for Kaminari, Deku, or Kirishima?

Did it make sense for Deku to immediately leave the lab to fix lights?

Did it make sense for Kirishima to avenge Mina’s death?

You’re not even sure where to begin thinking of Kaminari-- like with his sudden claim of throwing Kirishima off the ship earlier on

Iida, with the grace of angels and levelheadedness of lions, suggested the best plan to find the killer.

A group of three, a pairing, and lone wolf

Of course everyone agreed.

it was no brainer that you and bakugou would stick together--you two were practically stuck at the hips

Kaminari was grouped with Deku and Kirishima while Iida volunteered to work on his own.

Everyone was tense: keeping distances away from each other, keeping tabs on the other...

whether there was one or two killers, it had to be within the group of 3, and you were bound to catch him at some point.

And while they stressed on who the murderer was, you and Bakugou... well, you felt a bit bad for enjoying the alone time you two got

“Hmm,” you drawled out one night.

Oh yeah, don’t think Bakugou didn’t know where this was going

But, oh, don’t think he’ll play along.

You pushed the pen and notepad away from his face when he ignored you and flopped onto his chest.

it was nearing curfew, and you still hadn’t gone back to sleep in your own room after all these months

(only Kaminari had the balls to call you out for leaving his bedroom early to sneak into yours, and honestly that’s good enough reason for you to suspect him)

“Hmmm...”

okay how dare Bakugou go back to writing on a tiny notepad the size of his ego

Even after you cover his eyes, he still continues to write on the notepad

“C’mon, you know I hate it when I have to ask”

Big mistake, you should’ve uncovered his eyes and attacked him with your own deathly cute look

He pauses his writing to jab the pen into the back of your head.

“Weren’t you the one who said consent was everything?”

“I also said it was very sexy of you to not swear.”

“What the fuck am I swearing on?”

He finally drops the pen and notebook to hold onto your back

He loved feeling your breathy laugh sweep over his skin, to feel your body come to life at something he said

and like all those months ago, he removes your loose hands from his eyes

(”They’re sweaty whenever you leave them there too long,” he once complained, yet he’s always the one holding onto you longer)

and this time you’re able to look into his eyes with clarity, to see all the smiles in the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, to see a spark light up in the reflection of you

and maybe bad experiences in space brought you closer than the misfortunes on earth did

“Kiss?”

Who is he to deny you one when you look at him so expectantly and full of love at the moment

“That’s the bye I’ll see you in two minutes kiss!” you cried when he kissed your forehead. “Neither of us are leaving anytime soon!”

“That’s the I got you lunch kiss...” from the cheek. You giggled stupidly when he kissed your nose. The stop being cute kiss.

“You’re alllllmost there”

“Almost where? You just asked for one kiss, and I gave you three.”

Seriously, he made it so easy, so easy to get mad at him and then you made it so very easy for him to tell you, you weren’t being specific

“Where’s the wittle shweal of pwotection?”

and it isn’t the first time you see him roll his eyes this hard

and yeah, that’s right, you’re going to make him do all the work now as you keep your face in place, your eyes closing in trust

the only way you knew he was leaning in was when you felt his lips brush yours with the most featherlight touch, making you smile instantly

“you don’t need it when I’m constantly with you though.”

and the bastard has the audacity to tease you like this!!! are you the only one pulling the weight in this dumb relationship? because you put all that shit into the kiss, including your feelings, frustration, worries, and you both press deeper when Bakugou reciprocates with the same enthusiasm

obviously you punch him when you see him with that dumb smirk after pulling back

“That’s what you get.” He shrugged. “You’re not going to die on my watch. Stop fucking worrying.”

You don’t laugh like you usually do, at how he throws in a swear when his voice becomes rough and soft and gentle at the same time

it’s how he knows you’re worried with the unchanging look on your face and yet your eyes continue to search for the answer in his

“What about you?”

“I’m not going to die.” when you don’t press further, he says, “We’re not going to die.”

“How’re you so sure?”

“Was the shweal of pwotection not enough?” He’s relieved when a grin breaks on your face.

“You’re right. We didn’t get this far without it, after all.”

It was so silly how a kiss started with a hopeful promise, had made you believe in Bakugou’s words

But it wasn’t enough

Kirishima had intercepted you two on the way to fix the communications room, panicking and barely able to get his words out

all you made out was “reactor” and “suit”; and the way he said Deku’s name made you latch onto Bakugou’s hand to run in that direction

You gripped his hand to the point of bruising, not even noticing you’d been digging your gloved fingers into your own palm

Honestly, you had no idea what was wrong, but the fact that Kirishima needed to leave the Kaminari with Deku to find someone, anyone, was already concerning

“What’s wrong with-” nothing prepared you for what you saw.

Kaminari looked up from his spot, surprise defensively taking over his face. “I know it looks bad-”

“Kaminari-” you gasped, taking a step back as he neared you like one would to an animal

“-because it is! Please, Midoriya just looked so vulnerable! How could you resist that?”

God how can he say that as if he was talking about a puppy

He laughed when you backed into a wall; laughed because the way your eyes expressed so much disgust at his admittance would be much more delightful at the big reveal; laughed because he wasn’t even close enough to harm you and yet you still looked so frightened of him

Laughed even more when you cringed upon seeing his gnarly set of teeth

Kaminari started licking the blood off his teeth and lips once he calmed down, and when he stared at you with the most predatory eyes, you nearly mistook the pounding rush of footsteps as the blood in your ears

“Bakugou!” Kaminari didn’t need to take his eyes off you to know it was him. “Did you tell Kirishima the news?”

You’re a little too relieved at having Bakugou here to comprehend Kaminari’s words.

“Back off, dunce face.”

"Where’s Kirishima?” you ask when you notice his absence

“He ran off. Or tried to.”

everything is too still for your liking

“Then the-the blood on your suit?”

“His body exploded.”

And fear washes over your body as you try to comprehend that Kirishima exploded?

Everything starts to blue as you try to piece everything.

No, no, no-

“That’s a terrible lie, even coming from you, Bakugou. Off your game?”

-it can’t be-

“It would’ve been cleaner if I weren’t in a rush to cover your ass.”

-you don’t have time-

“Feeling betrayed yet, Y/N? That your boyfriend-”

-there’s nowhere to run-

“Don’t fucking do it, dunce face.”

-what about Iida-

“I promise you, it won’t hurt one bit.”

And honestly, you’re wondering if the other ships had made it past this point.

Iida had heard Kirishima’s distressed panic before making it to the communications room, understanding he would go on his own to fix it

The Bystander Effect, as you once called it, made him believe you and Bakugou would handle Kirishima’s situation. He wouldn’t be of any help if the radio signal wasn’t up on time to solve this emergency!

He recalled Kirishima mentioned the reactor, and hastily made his way there once he finished fixing

Some noble class person would call the splatter of deep red across the floors and wall “art”, with how the bits of black and gray nearly bring it to life.

How ironic that it had cost a life.

He had to force himself to look away from the mess in the lower engine when he heard Bakugou’s almost feral growl.

“I don’t mind if it’s you.”

By the time he arrived, Iida found the reactor in the same mess as the lower engine.

He couldn’t help but think what an art critic would have to say about this, were it to be a painting.

Green liquid streaked the room with a pattern similar to the red

The same green dripping from Bakugou’s hands as he cradled what was left of your head

the same green that oozed out of Kaminari’s grayed body that was in equal parts unrecognizable

He wonders what the art critics would say about the four bodies surrounding the only one alive

a/n: wow u made it to the end huh,,,,,,,,thank you so much for reading!! I hope the music really set up the mood I was going for. Also, I didn’t want to spoil anything, but I read somewhere that it can be very triggering to write about the reader’s death esp if it was in 2nd pov!! Ik i said it’d be gory but I figured I could skim over it! anyway i love u nina this one was dedicated to all our among us plays

I dont think i conveyed it very well but bakugou was basically gonna eat u for dinner. But kaminari got to u first and bakugou figured u had to taste as good even tho kaminari already digested u, right?

#nina's 1k event #bakugou x reader #among us!au #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #j writes

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