#guys i am so burnt out from my shift yesterday

[asher-mccarthy]

I Wanted To Know || Alex & Asher

Tagging: @asher-mccarthy, @alex-abrams

When: Wednesday February 15th

Where: Alex’s house

Warnings: Just all the feels

Notes: Asher and Alex spend the morning after Valentine’s Day together and make things official

Asher was used to his night shifts dragging on most of the time but lately whenever he was planning on seeing Alex afterwards, the shift always went by super quickly. This shift had gone just like that and now Asher was driving back to Gradian. He picked up Buddy and his ingredients before making his way over to Alex’s place. He couldn’t wait to just see Alex again. Work was always keeping him way too busy and he never got to see Alex enough. He knocked on the door and waited, trying to keep Buddy from knocking the door down.

Alex willed himself to wake up early that morning after having stayed up some of the night cleaning to make sure the house was ready for Asher and Buddy. He sat, writing notes for his projects when he heard a knock on the door. He was happy because he knew that meant that Asher had arrived. He got up and opened the door with a big smile. "Hey Asher. Come on in!" His attention then turned to Buddy. "Hey, boys! Welcome!"

Asher grinned as the door opened and Alex appeared in front of him. He got so distracted for a moment that he ended up letting go of Buddy and he ran off into the house to probably destroy everything. “I hope he won’t destroy your place too much. He just forgets how big he is.” Asher shrugged and headed inside. “I hope you’re hungry! But not too hungry because I still have to actually cook everything.”

"I'm sure he won't destroy anything too precious." Alex smiled as he watched Buddy head inside the house. "I am. And I have a fresh brewed pot of coffee for you. I know thats definitely a must to get you through the cooking." The smile never left his face as he let Asher inside.

At the mention of coffee, Asher sighed happily. “You know that coffee and food is the way to my heart.” Asher liked that he had been to Alex’s place enough times now that he knew the place well so he was able to go straight to the kitchen with the ingredients and find everything he needed easily. “What did you get up to yesterday?”

"I do." Alex laughed as he closed the door and went to his desk to pick up his cup of coffee before heading to the kitchen. "Not much, actually. I just had a binge watch day and lounged around in pajamas."

Asher grinned as Alex joined him in the kitchen. He was pulling ingredients out of the bag as Alex talked. “What did you watch?” He glanced at the ingredients in front of him. “So I was thinking of making eggs, those waffle sandwich things you make that I love and bacon. You’re definitely not allergic to any of that, right?”

Alex watched as he took the ingredients out of the bag. "Star Trek." He listened and nodded. "That's all safe." Asher smiled. “What a great choice!” He pulled a few pans out of one of the cupboards. “I promise I will one day remember everything you are allergic too.” He frowned for a moment. “I might need your help with the waffles. I’m not making them from scratch but I still don’t completely know how to make them.”

Alex laughed and shrugged. "Well, in the mean time, I'm always here to remind you." He nodded. "That, I can do."

“Thank you. I don’t want to have to rush you to the hospital at any point because I forgot.” Asher nodded. “Thank god. I can sort of cook but some food I just really struggle with.” “You're welcome. And luckily, I'm not allergic to much." He chuckled. "With waffles and pancakes, it's all about timing." “I know but it’ll be just my luck I’ll accidentally feed you something that might kill you.” He shook his head. “See, I’m terrible with timing. I’m the type of guy that tries to make caramel and ends up with a solid burnt pan or the guy who burns pizza.” "I don't think you will." Alex chuckled before taking a sip of coffee. He put the cup down and moved to stand right beside Asher. "Practice makes perfect though."

Asher turned to look at Alex with a smile. “Alright, let’s hope you’re right.” He picked up the waffle mix. “That’s true. It’s lucky that I have the patience to practice and you have the patience to help me.” "I know I'm right." Alex smiled and looked at the waffle mix. "Very lucky. How about you mix up the batter and I'll throw it in the waffle iron." Asher nodded. “Sure, I can do that.” He grabbed everything he needed to finish the batter and started to mix it all together. “So I remember you mentioned about your idea to do a bunch of different genres of stories for your next project. Are you still thinking that or do you have a different idea?” Alex watched as he gathered everything he needed and started to mix it together. He sprayed the waffle iron with non stick cooking spray and turned it on. "I'm still thinking about that." Asher continued to mix the batter until it looked like it was all mixed together and handed the bowl to Alex. “It must be so hard to just like come up with ideas for stories or to find an idea that works for what you want to do.” Alex poured some of the batter into the waffle iron and shut it. He hummed a little. "It is sometimes, then at other times it is a barrage of ideas at the wrong times." Asher opened the packet of bacon and pulled some pieces out. He sprayed one of the pans and began to heat it on the stovetop. “Do you write the ideas down whenever you have them so you can use them later?” "If I get them when I'm able to write them down, I do." Alex nodded and watched the waffle iron. "Sometimes I have them while I'm driving or out doing something." Asher nodded and placed the pieces of bacon in the pan. “Oh, that is very inconvenient. Maybe you could do like a voice memo on your phone or something if you’re driving? Or even just call someone who won’t answer and record it as a message on their message bank?” "I try, but I don't want to get pulled over for being on my phone." He hummed and turned toward Asher. Asher nodded. “Actually, that’s a fair point. We wouldn’t want you getting arrested or anything.” The bacon crackled as he kept an eye on it. "Nope." Alex chuckled. He took the waffle out when it was time and poured more batter in to make another one. "How has work been?" Asher grinned and flipped the bacon. “It’s been busy. We’ve got a new resident so we’ve all been helping her out by letting her help us with some of the more difficult cases.” “That sounds interesting. I hope she's doing well with helping all of you." He said, watching the waffle maker.

Asher pulled the bacon from the pan before it started to burn and grabbed more pieces to cook. “It’s been good. I wish I’d had a chance to see some of the more difficult cases when I was a resident instead of trying to figure it out by myself after I became a doctor but hopefully we can help her out a bit.” "I know you all will definitely help." Alex smiled as he waited on the waffle maker. "Sometimes jobs are learning when the curve ball is thrown at you." Asher kept one eye on the bacon as he looked over at Alex. “That’s true. I think I would get bored if I wasn’t learning something new everyday.” “Same here." Alex looked over at him before taking the waffle out and pouring more batter in. He closed the lid. Asher nodded and listened to the bacon crackle. It was such a wonderful sound. “So I think we just need a bit more bacon and then I can do the eggs. Then we can eat!” "I have just a couple more waffles to cook." Alex mailed as he took the waffle out and poured more batter in. Asher pulled out the cooked bacon  and put the last few pieces into the pan. “I have been so excited for this breakfast. I have been thinking about it all night at work.” He laughed. "I've been excited as well. I barely slept I was so excited." Alex smiled as he tended to the waffles. “Really? I hope you got some sleep though because I would feel terrible if you’re tired because of me.” Asher smiled and blushed lightly. "I got some sleep. I set an alarm at my desk and get a few hours in." Alex reassured him and smiled at his blush “Okay, that’s alright. I can be excited at your excitement then.” Asher flipped the bacon as it crackled. Alex hummed as he took the waffle out and poured the last of the batter onto the waffle maker. "I didn't want to be grumpy for you." He giggled. Asher grinned as he listened to the bacon. “I don’t think you could ever be grumpy. Besides, I deal with that many grumpy patients that I’m sure any grumpiness you might have wouldn’t even compare.”

"Oh, I can be sometimes." Alex smiled a bit. "I'm sure I'm not as bad as your grumpy patients though." Asher smiled. “Well, I look forward to seeing your grumpy side. I think it will be adorable.” Asher pulled the bacon out and went and grabbed the eggs. “How do you like your eggs?” "It might be comical." Alex laughed a little then looked over at Asher. "I'll eat my eggs any way they're served to me, honestly." “I’m sure it wouldn’t be.” Asher grinned. “How about scrambled? I’m less likely to mess that up than any other form of eggs.” "Scrambled sounds nice." Alex nodded as he took the final waffle out of the waffle maker and turned it off. He broke the waffles down into smaller bites for the sandwiches. “Great!” Asher grabbed the milk out of the fridge and a bowl to mix the eggs and milk together before adding it to a pan. “I was thinking now that it’s starting to warm up again slightly, maybe we should go on more walks together.” "Going on more walks together sounds like a great plan!" Alex replied excitedly. He definitely loved Asher's company on his walks.

“I’m glad you agree.” Asher replied with a grin. He loved spending any time he could with Alex. He watched as the eggs cooked, stirring them as needed. Once they were finished, he turned off the heat and turned to Alex. “Breakfast is finally ready!” "Of course I agree. I love spending time with you." Alex smiled as he was done with the waffles. "Awesome!" “I always love spending time with you but you already know that.” Asher grinned and pulled out a plate to put the scrambled eggs onto. “You’ll have to show me how to make these breakfast sandwiches.” "I'm glad that we love spending time together." Alex brought over the waffles with a smile. "It's very simple. You just put your eggs and bacon or sausage...maybe some cheese if you'd like between two mini waffles and add some syrup." Asher nodded as he listened to Alex explaining how to make the breakfast sandwiches. “Okay, that sounds simple enough. We should definitely add cheese because who doesn’t love cheese?” Alex got into the fridge and pulled out the syrup and the cheese. "I have several different kinds." Asher grinned as he saw the cheese. “I feel like everybody should have several different kinds of cheese in their house.” "You never know when you're in the mood for something different to eat. Besides, sometimes having several different cheeses on a sandwich is really flavorful." Alex smiled before going back for the coffee and add ins.  “You’re right. It’s always better to be prepared than to want something and not have it.” Asher nodded. “Okay, let’s assemble these sandwiches so we can eat!” "Always." Alex nodded and grabbed the plates, utensils, and napkins and brought them to the table before sitting down. "Yes!" Asher followed Alex to the table with all the food and started assembling the sandwiches. Once he was finished, he sat down with a smile. “Let’s hope they don’t fall apart too much while they’re being eaten. But, breakfast is served!” "They shouldn't, but if they do, I brought forks just in case." Alex grinned and grabbed one of the sandwiches. He took a bite. "Mm. Very good." Asher watched happily as Alex took a bite of one of the sandwiches. He wanted so badly to do a good job with the breakfast for Alex. “I’m really glad.” He took a sandwich for himself and took a bite.

Alex gave him a smile and took a sip of coffee. He swallowed the coffee and took another bite of the sandwich. Asher finished the sandwich he was eating. “I um…I actually got you something.” He got up from the table and grabbed a wrapped present out of the bag he’d brought in. It contained a moleskin notebook that he’d seen in a shop in Newcastle. “It’s just a little something that I saw that made me think of you and I wanted you to have it.” He sat back down at the table with a smile and handed Alex the present. "You did? You didn't have to." Alex smiled at him. He hadn't gotten a Valentines gift in a very long time. He took the present and opened it, revealing the notebook. "It's beautiful. I love it!" The smile remained on his face as he sat it to the side so he didn't get any food on it. "I might have written you something." He got up to grab a piece of paper that looked like it had been aged and had a poem written in calligraphy on it. “I just liked that when I saw it, I thought you’d really like it so I figured I should just grab it for you.” Asher shrugged and smiled at Alex’s reaction. When Alex mentioned that he had written him something, Asher stared at him in shock. He read the poem with a smile on his face and the smile remained as he looked up at Alex again. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten. I can’t believe you wrote this for me!” Alex nodded and smiled. "Well, I'm glad you thought of me while we were apart." The smile remained on his face as he watched Asher read the poem. "I figured a Valentines present should come from the heart, much like the notebook did. The paper craft I did because I wanted it to look special." The smile on Asher’s face wasn’t going anywhere. “I often think of you while we’re apart.” He gave Alex a quick wink and then laughed. “I always thought Valentine’s presents were just super cheesy and pointless but I’ve realised now that they really can mean something if they come from the heart.” Asher smiled again. “Actually, I had something I wanted to ask you too.” "I often think of you as well." Alex nodded. He did often find himself thinking of the other while apart. "I've always felt the same." He nodded again. "That's true." His ears perked up. "Yeah? Go ahead and ask." Asher grinned and grabbed a mug to pour himself some coffee. “I guess it’s different when you have someone that you actually want to spend Valentine’s Day with. Or in our case, the day after.” After adding everything he needed to his coffee, he took a sip with a smile. “Well, I’ve kind of wanted to ask this for a while but I always felt like maybe I wasn’t ready yet or you weren’t. But I figure I might as well just ask and the worst you’ll do is say no.” He paused to sip his coffee again. “I wanted to know if maybe you might want to be my boyfriend? Like, I know we’ve been on dates and stuff and I really like you and I guess I just wanted you to know that I only want to go on dates with you and be with you.” He laughed. “Sorry, that was a lot of words. I talk a lot when I get nervous.” Alex nodded. "I agree that having someone to spend Valentines Day with makes a difference." He listened and once Asher was done, he smiled. "I was actually thinking the same thing. I really enjoy the time when we're together and catch myself thinking of you when we're apart." The smiled left his face. "So yes." Asher’s heart was beating super fast as he waited for Alex to answer his question. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous because he knew that Alex liked him, but sometimes he got a bit paranoid that maybe he was reading the signs wrong. So when Alex finally said yes, Asher breathed out a sigh of relief as his heart slowed back to a normal pace. “Wow, well, that’s really great. You are now my boyfriend. I really like saying that word.” He laughed as he picked up another sandwich and took a bite. "Yeah, now we're boyfriends." Alex nodded. He was glad of what the question was instead of what it could have been. He finished his sandwich before drinking more coffee and starting on another sandwich. Asher took a big gulp of coffee and another bite of his sandwich. “Did you have any plans for the rest of the day? I’d really love to just spend the day hanging out with you, if you’re free.” "I don't." Alex answered with a big smile before taking another sip of his coffee. "I kept it open just in case you wanted to do something." Asher grinned. “It’s like you knew I was going to ask.” He laughed and took a bite of his sandwich. “Do you have anything on particular you want to do or are you happy just hanging out here?” "I figured you might." Alex smiled then took a bite of his sandwich. "Honestly,  I don't have anything specific I need or want to do. We can just hang out here if you want." “Hanging out here sounds perfect! It will also allow me to take a nap when I need.” Asher grinned and finished his coffee. “Maybe you can finally show me those Blu-Rays you’ve been bragging about.” "You're always welcome to take a nap. All of my rooms and my couch are open to you. I can even get the comfy blanket from my bed and bring it out here." Alex grinned before finishing his sandwich and coffee. "You'd be okay watching Star Trek with me?" Asher finished his sandwich and relaxed back in his chair. “Thank you, I’m alright at the moment but eventually I will need to sleep given I haven’t slept for a while.” He started making himself another coffee. “Of course I would. Star Trek is great. Besides, you love it so that would be enough for me.” "That's completely understandable and I might take a nap myself." Alex said before finishing his sandwich and making another cup of coffee. "That means a lot." “We could always nap together and then we can both get cuddles at the same time.” Asher grinned and sipped his coffee. “It’s nothing, really. I just figure it’s worth trying out things you love because I like you and you like me so your tastes must be alright.” He laughed.

"That's true." Alex nodded. "I also want to try out things you like, too. I want to get to know you more." Asher nodded. “Sure, I’d love to show you the things I like. One of my favourite things actually is comic books. Especially Marvel and DC.” "Comics are cool. I have some graphic novels collected." Alex smiled. "My favorite is Deadpool." “Deadpool is amazing. My favourite is Captain America. Cliché I know, but you just can’t help but like the guy.” Asher sipped his coffee again with a smile. "Cap is pretty likeable." Alex nodded before sipping at his coffee again. "Who's your favorite DC hero?" “It also helps that he is quite an attractive man.” Asher laughed. “My favourite DC hero is Wonder Woman. She’s not only a fantastic fighter, but she is also such a great role model for women. If I ever have a daughter, I’ll be happy knowing that there are women like Wonder Woman to inspire her.”  "Wonder Woman is a great hero. She's kept Superman and Batman in check so many times." Alex nodded. "She really is a great role model." “Somebody does need to keep those two in check a lot.” Asher grinned and sipped his coffee. “Who is your favourite DC hero?” "For DC, I'm more into the villains than the heroes. I do like Harley Quinn's heroic exploits though, whether solo or with the Suicide Squad." “Oh, I feel you. The villains in DC are just something else. I think the villains in DC are just so much better than the Marvel ones. I mean, there’s nobody quite like The Joker.” "There really isn't anyone quite like The Joker. I think that's what gives the villains their appeal. They're all unique and stand out." Alex nodded in agreement.

“I agree. I love Marvel but DC has just created more unique and interesting villains. It’s the reason why The Suicide Squad is so popular.” Asher finished his coffee. "Exactly." Alex finished his own coffee and stretched. Asher smiled. “Are you finished with the food? I can tidy everything up and then we could watch some Star Trek?” "I couldn't eat another bite." Alex said with a smile as he leaned back in his chair. "I'll make some more coffee and get my comfy blanket off the bed." “Sounds like a plan!” Asher got up and stretched. He grabbed the plates of food and took them into the kitchen. He came back and grabbed everything else off the table and put everything away in the kitchen before tidying up what was left of the food. Once everything was tidied up, Asher headed out of the kitchen and into the living area where he found Alex. He made himself comfy on the couch and gave Alex a big smile. “I’m ready when you are.” Alex went straight to the kitchen and put on a fresh pot of coffee for brewing. Then he went to the bedroom and grabbed his comfy blanket, then put it on the couch. He then brought the tray of coffee and add ins, along with clean cups to sit on the table in front of the couch. The then sat down with the remote. Once Asher joined him, he put on Star Trek and got comfortable. Being cuddled up with Alex under his comfy blanket was quickly becoming one of Asher’s favourite places in the world. He smiled to himself as Star Trek started up on the TV. Alex put an arm around Asher as the opening credits started up. It was an episode he's seen lots of times, but it was special because Asher was around to watch with him. Asher really didn’t know much about Star Trek apart from the basics and what he had seen before but he was really enjoying learning about the world and people in the show. He rested his head on Alex’s shoulder with a smile. “Who’s your favourite character?” Alex looked away from the screen and at Asher before pointing out the ship's doctor, Dr. McCoy. "My favorite is McCoy. He's the ship's doctor. He often is the voice of reason within the show. He also has some good quips." Asher’s smile morphed into a grin. “So you’ve got a thing for doctors then, huh?” He laughed and turned his attention back to the show. “He seems great though. I’ll get back to you on my favourite once I’ve watched a bit more.” "Maybe. Especially witty ones." Alex winked, the turned his attention back to the show. "Sounds great." “Is that your way of telling me I’m witty?” Asher grinned at Alex’s wink. His attention kept being drawn back to the show as he was really enjoying it.

"I think you're pretty witty." Alex grinned before his attention was drawn back to the show. It didn't matter how many times he had seen these episodes of Star Trek, they always caught his attention. “I’ll make sure to add that to my resume.” Asher smiled to himself and then laughed as somebody said something funny on the show. Alex chuckled before laughing at the funny thing on the show himself. Even as Asher watched the show, he couldn’t help but think about how happy he was right in this moment and how glad he was that they had agreed to this date. He snuggled in closer to Alex and sighed happily. Alex heard Asher's sigh and smiled. It has been a while since he was this comfortable with anyone. He was glad that things were going well with the date. Asher was so distracted by the show that he found himself disappointed when the episode ended. He turned to Alex for a moment and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Please tell me we are watching another episode. Or even maybe a lot more episodes?” "We can watch as much as you want." Alex smiled as he skipped the end credits so that the next episode would start quickly. “Perfect! Let’s just watch it until one or both of us fall asleep.” Asher would happily spend the entire day cuddled up to Alex watching Star Trek. "That we can do." Alex nodded. He was happy that Asher seemed to be into Star Trek. It would give them more to talk about later for sure. “It will also give me more time to decide on a favourite character.” Asher smiled as the next episode started up. "That's right. You do still have to decide that." Alex chuckled. "There's no rush." “I’m sure it won’t take me long to figure out who I like the most.” Asher glanced at Alex for a moment and smiled. “Most of their personalities are pretty obvious straight away.” "That's true." Alex nodded before yawning. He didn't realize just how tired he was, but was determined not to fall asleep on Asher. Asher noticed Alex’s yawn and gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay if you fall asleep on me. I’ve fallen asleep on you several times already and I know I will fall asleep on you many more times.” "Are you sure? I don't want to be a bad host." Alex smiled softly at him and cuddled into Asher. Asher laughed. “You could never be a bad host. I don’t think it would actually be possible for Alex Abrams to be considered a bad host.” He smiled wider when Alex cuddled into him. "As long as you're sure." Alex yawned again before feeling his eyes grow heavy. Soon, his eyes closed for a moment before he opened them again.

“I’m sure.” Asher turned his attention back to the TV with a smile as he noticed Alex starting to drift off. He pressed a kiss to Alex’s cheek and yawned himself. He knew he would be asleep not long after Alex. Alex could feel himself drift off. He was soon asleep, cuddling more into Asher. Asher felt Alex cuddle more into him and then heard his breathing even out as he drifted off to sleep. He yawned again as he turned his attention back to the TV with a smile. There was no where else he could possibly want to be in this very moment.

He opened his eyes once more before closing his eyes again and falling asleep. Alex finally fully drifted off.

#c:alex #para: i wanted to know

[muntedpumpkins]

Larapinta Hike Day 4

Fourth day of the Larapinta Trail. We are continuing on from where we left the trail yesterday after the Mt. Sonder lookout. A shorter day today at only fourteen kilometres, we are headed to Redbank Gorge. As we walk along the rocks around us shift in colouration, from the same burnt orange to deep maroon and then to bone white. The red rocks of iron look like the could have fallen from the bark of a tree, for they are composed of thin layers that break apart easily. The highlight of this walk is the gorge, another example of duelling rock faces, quite similar to Ormiston Gorge, but still striking in its execution. Ghost gums line the river, not along its bank, but at its centre. Sure, there’s no water in it at the moment, but its clear that when water does come through, it comes through thick and fast. The debris of the last flooding event stands as high as my head, all bunched up against the trunks of the trees that call the dry riverbed home. As we get deeper into the gorge, I see some rock wallabies bounding up and down the golden cliffs. I’m straggling behind the group, and by the time that I make it to the gorge waterhole, Amy has already jumped in and gotten out, and is standing in her walking shorts and a towel. Apparently there’s not much going on under the towel in the way of clothing. Two boys from outside of out tour group have clearly enjoyed the show, and do the best to impress Amy by skipping some rocks across the gorge. People watching can be very entertaining at times. Dean is swimming back from the far end of the waterhole and Daymo is waiting his turn to jump back in and follow him. Colleen has waded up the the bottoms of her footy shorts and no further. I join in, but I’m not a footballer like her - I don’t have any experience with ice cold recovery sessions, or wanting to stay in cold water for any other reason. 

Amy’s gotten her walking shorts wet instead of her bathing suit, and needs to come up with a solution for getting her clothes back on and keeping herself dry without revealing herself for all to see. She wiggles her shirt on over her towel - leaving her with the problem of getting her towel out. It’s a bit of a look given that the towel is a sporty travel towel with fractal pattern covering it. I’d wear it to a party. 

She figures it out and gets the towel out through the neck of her polo. 

Another towel is provided and she uses that as a sarong. Everyone who was in the waterhole has since extricated themselves, and Colleen walks out with red legs up to where the water had been. Theres no denying the water was cold. Apparently the the water goes on between to rock faces for a further two kilometres, a journey of its own merit - but not one that we would be taking today. Two guys  on an inflatable raft have got more balls (and time) than us, and are taking the plunge. We see them disappear between to crags and can hear them splashing about for the twenty minutes we are sitting back drying off. I reckon it’s be a good adventure to come back for. 

Back to the bus for a quick return to camp. Dinner is hamburgers at around 5pm as we prepare to get an early night so that we can be up and ready by 2:30 AM the next day for our sunrise hike up mt sonder. 

We have to share the camp with another tour group - but they are so small that it makes little difference to our plans. We share the campfire with them, but the two groups don’t really get into conversation. It seems that there would be little reason in interacting with them for the few hours before bed only to never see them again.

On a side note - I spent more than a few minutes salivating over the thighs of this other groups driver. He’s wearing footy shorts and showing off that he probably has a history playing football. There’s a fantasy or two going on in my head that I don’t have the balls to bring to fruition. 

#larapinta

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Tessa spend their first Christmas with the Winchesters and their friends, resulting in an eventful night...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy this final part! I loved writing this one and exploring everything this series had to offer!

_________

Reader’s POV

Christmas Night

“Hello ladies,” said Dean, popping his head out from the hall and into the room Tessa was staying in. “Mind if I steal your sister?”

“Go for it,” she said, jumping up from bed and rushing over to her suitcase. She pulled out a box and held it out. “I thought I left it at home but Y/N found it in the hall. It’s your other present.”

“The zip up was very nice of you already,” he said. He tore off the paper and you smirked from bed, Dean making a face as he looked at the box.

“It’s a mug. I made it in art class,” she said. He opened the package and went wide eyed, staring at her as he pulled it out.

“Tessa, this is really good,” he said, smiling at the little D.W. she’d painted on the side. “You made this?”

“Yeah. I’m good at ceramics,” she said with a shrug. “If you don’t like it that’s okay.”

“I have a new favorite mug,” he said, giving her a hug. “I can drink out of it, right?”

“Yeah. It’s fine for using and dishwasher, all that,” she said.

“Well I for one am glad you are getting your minor in art next year,” he said.

“Really?”

“School’s important but you gotta have some fun,” he said. “This is one of the best presents I’ve ever gotten.”

“I made everybody one,” she said with a shrug. “I gotta give Sam his still.”

“I think he’s out with Eileen and a few other people in the hot tub.”

“I was gonna go hang out with Jack, maybe we’ll head out there,” she said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Make smart choices,” he teased as she walked out. You stood up from bed and walked out to the hall, wrapping your arms around his waist. “She loves me.”

“Yes she does,” you said, a big smile on his face. “You like that, huh?”

“Yes, I do. Besides, I gotta get her on board if I want you,” he said. “How am I doing so far?”

“Oh so you’re curious if I love you,” you said.

“More than you could possibly understand,” he said. You smiled and stood up on your tip toes, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“Dean. I love you.”

“Good because I love you,” he said.

“That’s very good,” you said. He gave you a kiss, resting his hands along your hips. 

“Wanna take a walk with me?” he asked. You nodded and let him take your hand, following him downstairs and into the foyer where you dressed in your coats and boats, hats and scarves. You walked out the front with him and down the driveway a ways until you were on the private road up there, twinkle lights adorned in the trees.

“This really is beautiful up here, Dean,” you said, your gloved hands laced together.

“It is. Never really thought this would ever be my life growing up,” he said.

“We had holidays like this when we were younger,” you said. “It’s not really about the presents or the lights at the end of the day though.”

“No, it’s definitely not,” he said. “I know we only got here yesterday but are you enjoying it so far?”

“More than. I don’t dread these things anymore. I don’t dread life anymore.”

“Can I ask what your plans are for once Tessa goes to school next year? I know she’ll be living at home but she’s gonna be out and about more often,” he said.

“I don’t really know,” you said. “What about you?”

“Sammy’s interested in the place two doors down across the street. He might put an offer in,” said Dean. 

“What ya asking Dean?”

“If you asked me six months ago if I ever thought I’d love someone, I’d have said no that wasn’t for me. But then I met you and things changed. I’ve never really asked if you’re a marriage kind of gal I guess.”

“If I loved him I would marry him. I’d have a family of our own with him too,” you said. Dean nodded and you bumped his shoulder. “Death is the price we pay for living. But I think what I’ve learned these past six months is that caring and loving someone is worth the pain at the end of the day. The pain subsides and it’s still there but it doesn’t destroy you anymore. So yeah, I’m definitely open to marriage and kids and the dog with the white picket fence thing.”

“My fence is brown,” he chuckled.

“I can look past that detail,” you said. “Would you ever consider marriage?”

“Yes. I absolutely would,” he said. You smiled and he squeezed your hand. “You think I’m gonna like...propose or something now?”

“I think I love you and anything else, whenever or if ever that may be, it would just be a cherry on top,” you said. “I don’t need a ring or to be Mrs. Winchester to tell me how I feel.”

“I figured as much. Safer to ask though,” he said. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and held out a small wrapped box to you. “Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

You dropped his hand so you could unwrap it, finding a black box inside. You took off the lid and smiled, looking back over to Dean.

“You like it?” he asked shyly, blush appearing on his cheeks. “Tessa helped me pick it out.”

“Dean are you proposing?” you asked. He cocked his head and you turned the empty ring back towards him, his face falling.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” he said, covering his face. “I never put it back in the box. It’s at home. Oh my God I’m so dumb.”

“Dean,” you smiled, tilting your head and wrapping your arms around him. “Is there something you’d like to ask me?”

“It would make this idiot very happy if you decided to marry him,” he said with a smile.

“M’kay,” you said, pulling him down for a deep kiss. “That’s a yes by the way.”

“Even if I’m an idiot?”

“Told you I don’t need a ring, Winchester,” you said. “Just need you...Mr. & Mrs. Winchester has a nice ring to it though.”

“Technically it’s Dr. and…” he trialed off as you kissed him again. “God I love you.”

“I love you,” you said, throwing your arms over his shoulders. He tripped and fell back in the snow, laughing as you went with him. “Fuck I love the shit out of you.”

“I second that,” he said, rolling you to your back and kissing you. “Your sister is a hard nut to crack you know.”

“Did you ask her about this?”

“She’s very protective of big sis...but she said some very sweet things to me,” he said.

“She’s a sucker for you guys,” you said. “But she’s not the only one.”

You rolled over and meant to put him on his back but you ended up shifting and rolling down the hill with him, landing in a big pile of snow. You couldn’t see him at first but he was giggling like a kid and it was just about the best sound you’d ever heard in your life.

“I love you,” you said as you sat up. He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned. You jumped on top of him and rolled around in the snow, throwing snowballs and playing until both your jeans were soaked through and the cold was getting to be a bit much.

“Hey. You want to warm up with me in the shower?” he said. 

“Absolutely,” you said. You walked back up the hill with him, picking up the box from the road. He threw his arm over your shoulders and tugged you close into his side. “Maybe we can even have a little fun in that jacuzzi tub.”

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled.

“That’s my boy,” you said, taking off your hat and pulling it over his head. 

“I can get used to that.” He took off your hat and his baseball cap, putting the cap on you and tugging your hat back on.

“You’re never getting that blue Henley back by the way,” you said.

“You’re never getting your black hoodie back,” he said. You stopped and he pushed his hat down over your face. 

“Dork,” you said, pushing it up and wrapping an arm around his waist. You walked up the road, chilly when you walked back inside. You took off your coat and boots, tossing everything on the rack. 

You caught Sam and Tessa peeking their heads down the hall, both of them in their bathing suits. They stared at you and Dean, both dripping water.

“Yes we’re engaged,” you said.

“Yes!” said Tessa, Sam giving her a high five.

“Finally,” said Sam.

“Don’t you two have people to go make out with in the hot tub?” said Dean.

“Gah, like I’d do that in front of him,” said Tessa. 

“I was having a perfectly good time with Eileen until you and Jack-“

“Goodnight guys,” you said.

“They got engaged!” shouted Sam, different parts of the house shouting back. Dean pulled you up the staircase and down to your room, locking the door behind you. 

“Hi,” you grinned, kissing his nose.

“Hi. Wanna warm up?”

“After you, sweetheart.”

Three Months Later

“I’m beat,” said Dean, arm slung over your shoulders as the two of you walked up the street towards your house. You’d spent the day helping Sam and Eileen move into Sam’s new house just down the road, sticking around to unpack dishes and boxes long after everyone else had gone home.

“Our boy is all grown up,” you teased, Dean leaning against you. “Happy Sammy’s so close by?”

“Yup,” he said with a smile. “I think us older siblings did an alright job.”

“We still have to get Tessa through college,” you said.

“She’ll be fine. She wants to major in medicine sciences. I may or may not be able to help her out there some,” he said.

“Nerd,” you said, getting a smack on the ass from him. “Boy.”

“Girl,” he said, smirking and kissing your cheek. “It’s not the easiest thing in the world, I know, but she’s smart. We can all help her out. Except her art minor homework. I have no clue on that,” he said.

“First semester will probably be the roughest.”

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “What I am worried about it the fact she’s making us dinner tonight.”

“Ten bucks says it’s box mac and cheese.”

“Oh she informed me that it would be epic. I have high expectations,” he said.

“Hm, that must clearly be a good sign,” you said, nodding to your front porch where a very burnt tray of something sat on the step.

“Is it too late for takeout?” he chuckled.

“Let’s hope not,” you said, climbing up the steps. “We’re home!”

“How’d it go? We saw the...wait...it smells shockingly good in here,” said Dean, taking off his coat.

“I’m a better chef than you two give me credit for,” she said from the kitchen, humming as she worked over the stove. “I burnt the biscuits but everything else is nearly done.”

“If it tastes as good as it smells we should have you cook for us more often,” you said. 

“Laugh it up,” she said. Dean pulled you upstairs and you washed off the sweat of working all day, changing into something relaxing in time to walk downstairs and spot Tessa setting plates down at the table. 

“Oh. Fancy,” you said, Dean pulling out your seat for you. You sat and he took his own, Tessa humming as she pulled out a bottle of wine from the fridge and sat it down on the table. “Alright. What are you up to? This is way too nice.”

“Nothing. I knew you guys would be tired and you guys always make me dinner and stuff,” she said.

“Mhm,” you hummed, Dean smirking up at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“This what I get for being nice. I’m going over Jack’s,” she said.

“Make smart choices kiddo,” said Dean with a wink. She groaned and messed up his hair before she took off, Toast trotting after. “Take my car if you want, Tess.”

“Thank you!” she called back, ducking out the door after a moment.

“Well this was very nice of her,” you said. You cut into your chicken and paused, showing it to Dean and giggling.

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll show her how to use a meat thermometer, make sure the food is actually cooked,” he chuckled, picking up the plates and scraping the food in the trash.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you said, picking up the bottle of wine.

“Yes it is. What are you thinking?” he asked. “Taco Saturday?”

“I want a big ass burrito,” you said. “With extra cheese. And nachos.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, washing up his hands at the sink. “Wine and Mexican food. Perfect combo if I do say so myself.”

Three Months Later

“You got me a car!” said Tessa, hopping up and down when she opened the front door. She ran over to it and pulled off the bow, sliding in behind the wheel.

“You were worried she wouldn’t like a used one,” chuckled Dean in your ear.

“I was not,” you said, slapping his chest, Toast running out past you. You watched Sam and Eileen come out of their house a few down, Sam staring over in your direction. “We’ll meet you there!”

He waved and they climbed in, driving past with a honk as Tessa squealed. 

“Alright, alright,” said Dean. “We got a graduation to get to, ladies.”

“Cheers,” said Dean, laying back on the lounger on the balcony, toasting his glass to yours. You stretched out and rolled over closer to him, kissing him gently. “You’ve officially survived the high school phase.”

“Why do I feel like the college phase is harder,” you laughed.

“She’s already got the college boyfriend down,” he said.

“Yeah but Jack is Jack. He’s sweet. She’s the one I worry about.”

“You’ll always worry,” he said, his arm hanging loosely over your shoulders. “Kids sound like they’re having fun down there.”

“She’s happy. It’s all I could ever ask for.”

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“I’m home,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. You hugged his waist, Dean shutting his eyes with a smile. “You want to get married next summer?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Come on. You gotta have some opinions on this,” you said.

“I kinda like the idea of a spring wedding. Maybe May or something. I wouldn’t mind honeymooning somewhere on a beach,” he said.

“That sounds great,” you said, his fingers dancing along your arm. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Shoot.”

“I almost asked my dad if I could meet you once you know. The boy from the mail room. You seemed...I don’t know, like a really good person.”

“Did I meet expectations?” he asked.

“Blew right past them,” you said, getting a kiss on the temple. “You happy?”

“I got my girl. I got my brother. Got Tessa and Eileen and my friends and Toast and this little baby, Miracle,” he said, picking up the sleeping puppy beside him. “I have never been so happy in my life.”

“Good,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Want to go see if there’s any graduation cake left? Bet it’d go good with this bourbon.”

“God I love you,” he chuckled as he kissed you. “So fucking much.”

“Me too, Dean. Me too.”

_________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #winchester #dean spn #doctor!dean x reader

[honeymoonjin]

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: fanboy!taehyung x artist!reader

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 13.7k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: still bitter about a scandal that ruined your painting career, you’re recommended a getaway by your therapist to a small island off the coast of seoul. expecting a tranquil location to wallow in self-pity, you’re startled when on your first night, you encounter an avid fan of your work. instead of annoying you for an autograph, kim taehyung ends up being the very thing you need to fall in love with art again.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: sexually explicit content, reader suffers from poor mental health but nothing serious, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, that’s kinda it, it’s pretty soft tbh

--

The breeze is light here, broken by the gentle rise of the sand dunes behind you. It runs over your skin like water, a warm current that lasts long after the sun slips below the horizon line.

You sit for hours watching it, the tail of pinks and oranges and ochres that reflect thickly on the top of the water, the shallow crests of low tide. There’s a pull in your heart, a twitch at your fingers. The you a year ago would’ve had her paints out already, an easel with legs precariously shoved in the dry sand. The you a year ago would have been tossing up whether cadmium yellow or cadmium orange would suit the last slip of sun above the water, and whether you should wait til it was gone entirely to save making the decision.

Then again, the you a year ago would never have needed to come here.

The you today just waits, silently, you don’t even know what for. You’d been told this was a getaway. That you just needed some time to recover your muse, or some bullshit like that. But the more time you sit in silence and watch the sky blacken to navy and the stars prick the darkness with dazzling clarity, you think your therapist was wrong. How was this a getaway when all your problems were still festering inside you?

“Oh my god, Y/n L/n?”

You groan and sink back into the sand, head cushioned on the warm piles. Just your fucking luck. “You’ve got the wrong person,” you call out with eyes squeezed shut, praying the stranger will leave you alone. The last thing you needed was a green reporter or psycho fan to spill your location to the rest of the world. You can only imagine the headline. Disgraced painter Y/n L/n found hiding away on a tropical island eight months after she ruined the Met Gala.

“Oh my god, it is you! I’m a massive fan, wow!”

Fuck. At least there was a chance they’d keep quiet. You crack open an eye, staring up at the figure beside you, cast in shadow. From the glint of moonlight, you can see a crown of ruffled hair that’s a faded teal. It reminds you of the impressionist painting of a mountain lake that threw your work into the public eye. Just as faded as the dye on his hair, that time feels worn and aged, like from another life. A reminder of how far you’d fallen. “Look,” you confess lowly to the silhouette, “I just wanna be left alone, I’m not- I’m just here for a break from...everything.”

The figure shifts his weight in the sand, raising an arm to scratch at the back of his neck shyly. “I don’t mean to disturb you,” he apologises. With the slight breeze, his baggy clothes buffet around his lean figure and in the darkness he looks like some vengeful angel, towering over you with the moon behind him. But his voice is so soft, so genuine, so- so warm. Perhaps not vengeful, then, but definitely an angel. “You’re a hero of mine, I wanted to thank you for how much you’ve inspired me, saved me. Gosh, it’s crazy that you’re even here, I-”

“I’m sorry,” you force out, sitting up, wincing as grains of sand work their way down the nape of your neck, “really, I am. But I’m not the person you’re thinking of. Not anymore, at least.” You hate the way your voice rings out so thinly in the night air, nothing like the deep honey of his. You hate the way you sound broken.

He senses it too; he takes a step back, turns towards the dunes. “I should be going, I guess,” he murmurs. “For what it’s worth, I hope I see you around. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You don’t respond, wrapping your arms around your hunched knees and staring at the silver ocean until you can no longer see him in your peripheral vision.

—

It’s over a week before you see him again. Though you’d never admit it to anyone, you keep an eye out for the boy with the teal hair. There wasn’t enough light that day to make out his face but still, with hardly any people for miles, you hadn’t anticipated he’d be all that difficult to find.

Truth be told, there had been a deep curl of regret and dissatisfaction that took root inside you shortly after you left. He was just trying to be nice, and you could use a friend. Could use someone.

You had asked for privacy when your therapist began recommending a break, a getaway, but you hadn’t expected it to this degree. The place you were staying at was a rundown bungalow just behind the dunes, tucked away in a sliver of land where sand met forest, rising up into hills. The only people you saw were the employees that ran it: a maid that stopped by every day at 1pm, even though you had already made the bed and cleaned up after yourself; an older gentleman that delivered you fresh groceries every couple of days in his ancient-looking four wheel drive; and finally, the electrician you’d had to call out a few nights prior after the power went out.

The mysterious fan hadn’t been dressed like an employee; then again, it was long past the workday when he’d approached you. Mulishly, you find yourself lugging a picnic blanket and a pillow down to the beachfront every evening, monitoring every inch of the coastline that stretches around this edge of the peninsula.

It’s only on the ninth night, when you’re folding up your rough blanket with a disappointed grumble, that a sudden yap catches your attention. You whirl around, toes sinking deeper into the light sand, and gasp as a familiar silhouette approaches, stumbling down a sand dune to your left.

He hasn’t seen you yet; so focused on the tiny fluffball that tugs restlessly at its leash. It’s a lot earlier tonight than the last time you’d seen him, and there’s enough remnants of sunlight in the sky to cast him in a warm golden glow.

He’s in baggy clothes like last time, a long-sleeved white t-shirt with a v in the center, unbuttoned and sagging over the shoulder of the arm that’s getting yanked along, and some tan linen shorts. It’s hard to tell with how he sinks to his ankles in sand with every step, but he’s barefoot, almost sliding down the steep dune more so than walking.

You can’t hear him at this distance, but his lips are moving, parted in a boxy grin as he responds to the constant yipping of the tiny dog at his feet. He’s gorgeous, tanned skin to fit the honey of his voice - the voice you’ve been unable to shake from your head - and the roots of his hair are the colour of brown sugar, lightening into the dyed teal ends, whipping over his cheeks and neck in the seabreeze.

He turns off when he reaches the base, following his dog, who pulls in your direction, short bursts of energy that get cut off by the length of the leash. Your heart jumps, and you find yourself waiting in anticipation, breath caught in your throat.

But the moment he glances up and sees you, he halts in his tracks. Stepping back, his smile falls, bowing his head to you apologetically and pulling on the leash so that the small black-and-tan puppy at his feet turns around with him.

They start walking away from you, and you don't have time to think before you're calling out to him, jogging over with your blanket and pillow forgotten behind you.

He stops walking, though he doesn't turn, and when you finally come to a stop beside him, he keeps his head down.

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday," you rush out, slightly out of breath, "I was in a really shitty mood, and I had kinda come here to get away from...everything in the first place. I wasn't expecting a fan, and I reacted badly. I'm sorry."

Even after standing still, you can't seem to catch your breath. You haven't seen him this close, in this much detail, and it makes the air catch in your lungs. His eyes are an intense burnt umber, dancing over your face with an unreadable depth to them. He's taller than you, but not bulky. Though his shoulders are wide, he's lean, with a narrow nose and soft cheeks. The wind plays with the ends of his hair, revealing glimpses of a strong brow. He's beautiful.

"I didn't mean to bother you," he says after a moment, and you almost jump at the timbre of his voice so close to you, "I should be the one apologising. I'll leave you alone, honestly. I can find another place to go for a walk, or go at a different time-"

"Do you walk here a lot at this time?" you interrupt, the euphoria of finally holding a conversation after so long loosening your tongue. "You haven't been back since that night."

He tips his head to the side, shoulder jerking when his dog impatiently tugs at the leash, quiet snuffles and yips of disapproval ignored in the air between you. There's a flicker of something in his eyes - surprise? Amusement? "You were looking for me?"

"I-" Your voice fails you, and you realise how pathetic you must look. Your shoulders sink. "I was... I wanted to apologise," you land on finally.

That strange flicker in his eyes settles into a grateful warmth. "I normally do, yeah, but I had to go back to the mainland to pick up this guy." With a genuine smile, he glances down to the ball of fluff that's now lying over his bare foot. "I stayed there while he got his first lot of vaccinations. You can pat him, if you want."

You can recognise that offer for what it really is; an olive branch. In other words, he's apparently not holding a grudge against you for being an asshole. You smile gratefully, crouching down to pat the tiny animal. "What's his name?"

"Yeontan," he answers cheerily. "he's nine weeks old!"

You coo, chuckling at the soft fur wriggling beneath your fingertips, at the wet nose prodding at your palm for more pats. "Yeontan..." you muse. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

You hear a sheepish laugh from above. "Your, um, your painting of the old barn in Icheon? There's a kennel that's beside it in shadow, but you can just make out the name Yeontan painted on the front. I-" He breaks off awkwardly, falling silent.

Your hand freezes, and you feel yourself slump from a crouch to sitting fully on the sand, still hot from the afternoon sun. Yeontan. A detail you couldn't even remember painting, yet he'd named his dog after it. The dog continues to cover your hands in slobber and stray fur, but you just stare at it blankly.

"I'm sorry," the man winces, tone low with defeat. "You probably think it's stupid. I swear I'm not one of those crazy obsessed fans! There was just..." His voice changes then, closes up to cut off any emotion. "I shouldn't say. Sorry."

Your shoulders slacken. "You don't have to keep apologising," you say softly. After a moment's thought, you push up off the sand to stand up again, grains clinging to the skin that's damp from the dog's affections. The handsome stranger's face is stricken, reluctant as he watches you get up. You miss the boxy smile he'd held when he made his way down the dunes. You wonder if he'll ever smile that way at you. "I wanna hear. What you have to say."

Hand flexing on the leash, he looks down at Yeontan and back up at you, eyes squinted slightly as the sun glares onto his face; a radiant, sharp orange. "One of the reasons I'm such a fan of your work is the emotion you can actually see on the canvas. I don't even know how to explain it, but I feel it. And with the Icheon barn painting - I actually saved up for years to buy the original - there's something so sad and lonely about that kennel, that patch of shadow. The rest of the scene is so bright and open, it feels like a party that the kennel wasn't invited to. I don't know, it's stupid. But I thought if I ever bought a dog, I'd name it Yeontan so that it wouldn't feel so alone." He faces the horizon as he speaks, wincing into the light, and a broken laugh bubbles out of his throat once he's done. "Like I said; it's stupid."

But you don't think it's stupid at all. "Did it work?" you ask instead, nose prickling as tears build behind your eyes. The more he spoke, the more you remember the painting. It was your last work before the Met Gala disaster, and after everything went down in flames, desperate online tabloids went back to it, citing it as a 'cry for help'. You hadn't really painted it like that though, not really. You'd seen that beautifully painted barn in the countryside when you were driving between cities to visit your parents, and was taken by the dilapidated dog kennel tucked just beside it. Painting it wasn't some sort of clue to your nosedive, but more like a solidarity with that kennel, the dog that once lived there. The story that had been forgotten. And to hear this man had seen it, had wanted to ease the suffering just like you had... The emotions inside you, ones that had felt so dull and monochrome, now churn inside you in indecipherable technicolour, too many to count. But you think one of them might just be hope. "Did- did getting Yeontan work?"

He's looking at you now. He stays silent for a moment, the softest smile tugging at your lips, and it takes your breath away, watching the colours of sunset play across his skin while his brown eyes seek yours out intensely. "Yeah, it did," he answers eventually, his voice almost a whisper. It's only once he starts speaking that you realise the two of you have moved closer inwards without realising, so that it would only take a half step forward to be pressed against him. "But I think talking with you has helped more."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. The whirlpool inside you settles, leaving you feeling lighter than you have in years. You don't know what it is about this man that makes you feel...sane again, but you want more of it. "I think talking with you has helped me too," you confess, voice lilting in uncertainty. "Can... can I see you again? I don't even know your name, but-"

"Taehyung," he answers immediately, and even with the fall of night, the sun well and truly gone, his eyes are bright. "I could come back tomorrow?"

Your toes flex in the sand fighting the urge to jump in relief. "Yes! Yes, I'd like that," you chime, a smile tugging at your lips. "It was nice to meet you, Taehyung."

"The pleasure is all mine."

--

You sleep well that night. You can’t remember the last time the peaceful rays of sun have woken you so gently, but you certainly aren’t complaining.

You’d spent the past week or so moping in your cabin until late afternoon and then moping on the beach. Only now, after finally meeting the boy again - Taehyung - you realise how much you’ve been wasting your time buried in your own thoughts. Now all you want to do is explore. You’d been told on the ferry over here that the island was only a few hours’ walk around the coastline, and that your cabin, a street of shops and a small village of houses were the only signs of life. No bar to drown your sorrows at. No club for finding faceless strangers to make you forget who you were for a few hours. All your coping vices had been replaced with open stretches of nature in all its colours; the cool grey rocky beaches on the southern shore, the lush greens of the hilly forests, the glinting turquoise of the sea, and open plains of pastel sky for miles and miles.

The walk isn’t particularly intensive, but it’s long, and your feet ache in their sandals by the time you reach the docks again, having marked a full loop around the island. The dock, empty this late in the morning, leads directly to the main street via a cobblestone path that weaves between dunes, flax bushes, fields and a skinny stretch of trees, and you follow it to the center of the island, resting in a small cafe.

There’s no free WiFi here, so you sip at a tall glass of homemade strawberry lemonade and watch the streets through the storefront window. From your seat, you can see the people wander back and forth, the odd few with kids, but almost all are retirement age. Slow-moving couples with walkers and canes, elderly men jangling the keys to their vintage cars (that surely didn’t have much road to drive on), women with age-spotted skin and heavy beaded jewellery.

You can’t work out how Taehyung fits in this picture. It’s almost impossible to picture him walking down the same street as everyone else; his dyed hair, clothes two sizes too big, tall and slender frame hurrying down with a dog leash in one hand and a grocery bag in the other-

Wait.

You straighten up, eyes widening as you watch the man himself pauses to let Yeontan cock his leg on a patch of grass by the intersection. Physically, he’s entirely incongruous with the rest of the villagers, but he looks entirely at home, glancing up to smile in recognition at every figure that passes by him. One goes so far as to reach up and ruffle his hair playfully as she talks, and his face brightens with crinkled eyes and a boxy grin, greeting her warmly.

The same feeling of longing and dissatisfaction stirs you from the other time you saw that smile. You want to be the one that makes him so happy. You frown, unconsciously chewing on the end of the paper straw. It’s too hot in here. There’s not enough ventilation, and with the sun streaming in, the heat just pools inside, sticking to your thighs and arms. That’s why you leave the cafe before finishing your drink. The heat.

The lady has left by the time you cross the street, and you fake a cough noisily as you pass him, eyes cast away but face turned so he’d easily recognise you.

“Y/n!” Your heart warms, keens at the calling of your name, and you turn to him, smiling broadly. Taehyung grins when Yeontan rushes over to greet you too, whole body rocking with the force of his tail wagging. “Fancy seeing you here,” he remarks, and you take in a deep breath of air, feeling lightheaded with his attention back on you.

“I decided to explore a bit,” you answer, eyes dropping down to the supermarket bag in his hands, white plastic taut and digging red lines into his palm with the weight of it. “Retail therapy?”

He laughs goodnaturedly, but there’s a flush of pink high on his cheekbones, standing out beside the strands of green that he’s tucked behind his ears. “It’s actually, uh, something for tonight. I didn’t know if you’d- If you still-” He breaks off his stammering with another laugh, this one more self-conscious, and the pink deepens to red. “I thought you and I could paint together. I bought us some materials just in case you didn’t bring your own.” You fall silent, mouth slack and parted in surprise, so he continues on, lifting up his hand for a moment, bag rustling, then changing his mind and letting it fall again. “There isn’t a proper art supplies store here, so it’s just from the toy store. I know you’re probably used to proper stuff, but a bad worker blames his tools, you know! Not that you would- that you’re a bad-”

“You paint?” you ask finally, ending his nervous rambling.

His whole body slackens a bit, like you’ve cut some tension from him, his head dipping down to break eye contact. “Um. I’m- learning,” he answers with an uncertain wobble to his voice.

You tilt your head to the side with an expectant smile. “That’s really cool. How long have you been studying?”

He swallows, looking up to send you a hesitant smile. “I, um, I studied the instructions on the back of a paint-by-numbers kit in the toy store. Just now.” His voice lifts at the end of each sentence like it’s a question, that same bargaining smile plastered on his face.

You let out a genuine laugh, the first one you’ve had in a while. In too long. “Is that so? I better bow down to the maestro then.”

“Hey!” he whines playfully, shoulders rocking forward like a toddler feeling sorry for himself. “I learnt everything I know so far just from your art. And did you hear that speech I gave you about The Barn at Icheon? That was pretty good, right? You have to admit, that was good.”

His hand, the one loosely holding Yeontan’s lead, reaches out to grasp gently just above your elbow as he speaks, rocking you slightly like he’s pleading for you to agree. You find a constant stream of laughter bubbling out of your throat as he does so, feeling so light in the sunny midday breeze. “Okay, okay, that was good,” you confess, “you get a point for that.”

Once your laughter subsides slowly, you find yourself looking up at him with a residual smile, the same of which is spread on his face, eyes glimmering with something fond. He waits for the air between you to fall silent, tongue slipping out just slightly to wet his lips as you hold his gaze. “Y/n,” he asks softly, your name like molten sugar on his tongue, thumb unconsciously rubbing at the sensitive skin in the crook of your arm, “will you paint with me?”

Though the thought of painting still sours inside your chest, with his skin on your skin and his smile just for you, you feel like you could do anything. There’s only one answer. “Yes, I’ll paint with you, Taehyung.”

--

Painting with Taehyung is less painting with Taehyung and more staring desolately into the middle distance as Taehyung decides to make the clouds purple, bottom lip sucked between his teeth in focus.

“Don’t overthink it,” he stresses for the millionth time, glancing over at your blank canvas, “I’m not judging you.”

But it’s not about him judging you. If it wasn’t for him, you don’t think a paintbrush would have ever found its way into your hands again, certainly not so soon. It’s just that- you feel an overwhelming burden, a historical pressure of all your mistakes before. If you put brush to canvas now and create a work of art, then was your complete mindblank for the Met Gala all for nothing? Though your therapist advised against it, you had rather become attached to the idea that you’d somehow gotten artistically injured somewhere, and that eventually you’d broken completely, irreparable. It made the constant white void easier. Your first death.

“Happy little accidents,” Taehyung says lightly, dipping heavily into orange and catching a dollop on his wide-leg jeans. Not noticing it, or not caring, he swipes the orange into the canvas in a wonky line down past the horizon line, forming the neck and body of what looks vaguely like a giraffe. “And, um, happy little- happy little trees. If you want we could turn around and face the forest?”

Though a glum cloud is settling in your stomach you flick him a soft smile. “So you watch Bob Ross too? I thought you said you learnt everything from me.”

Using the same brush, he scoops out some black, using a pinkie finger to mix the colours together inside the bristles, a murky brown. “Maybe just a little,” he admits, daubing rough patches onto the giraffe, half of them overlapping the edges of its body. There’s an endearing quality to his carefree worksmanship, and you can’t deny that his painting looks good, wonky lines and all. “But don’t worry, you’ll always be my first,” Taehyung adds, not looking at you but smirking all the same.

The double entendre isn’t missed on you, but still, as you sit on a picnic table right on the edge of the village, blank canvas in front of you, you can’t bring yourself to laugh at it. All you can see is the paint drying on the tip of Taehyung’s finger, the messy pots of basic acrylics, and the warm smile that doesn’t leave his face.

He’s having fun. How long has it been since painting has been fun for you? Annoyed, you grab the clear green plastic brush from the set, dipping it into black. Muscle memory tingles across your knuckles and down the muscles of your wrist, an instinct to hold the brush in a certain way, tap off the excess, but your frustration overrides it, and you take the paintladen brush and smear it directly across the center of the canvas, a gaping maw of glossy shadow that bulges on the lower edges, gravity pulling at the thick stripe. You go completely still once it’s done. Staring.

Taehyung looks over after a moment, watching you carefully. “Is everything alright? If you didn’t want to paint, we didn’t have to-”

“It’s terrible,” you interrupt, a frown marring your face. “I fucked it up.”

“You didn’t,” he chastises softly, pushing his canvas to the side and leaning over your shoulder. “It’s a promising start. Maybe the duck pond is black in your world.”

Your eyes slide lower, unfocused. “Maybe the whole ocean is black in my world,” you murmur.

He’s silent for a moment,  unsure what to say. “Then how will the fish see?” he asks in a light tone, bumping your shoulder gently with his, but you just let out a broken sob, tears spilling over your cheeks like they’d been triggered by his contact. Taehyung’s mouth opens in a rounded o, eyes wide, and as the dam breaks, you feel an arm find your back, rubbing soothingly, and long, warm fingers wrap around the hand that holds the brush limply, cradling it. “We can fix it, it’s okay,” he soothes in a kind whisper, “here; it’s that mailbox now, yeah? And behind it is the candy shop-” His voice cuts off while he guides your shaking hand to the green, mixing it with white in the plastic pottle to make a pale pastel. You feel the pressure of the brush in your hand shift as he moves the bristles over the canvas in a roughly rectangular shape, but you’re unseeing, crying tears that sting like turpentine into that black ocean behind your eyelids, letting him move you.

The two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity, you curled in his embrace as he quietly paints for you, commenting on each step of the process so you know what he’s doing, even with your eyes closed. At one point, your energy leaves you, and you collapse into him, pressing your cheek against the stable warmth of his chest, heartbeat audible through his thin t-shirt. He doesn’t complain, just adjusting his stance to better support you and resting his chin on your head.

“I’m sorry,” you blubber thickly at one point, tasting salt.

“You don’t have to be,” he assures, “just keep breathing. Look; let’s put some trees in, hm? One for you and one for me.”

You open your eyes with a sniffle, feeling your hand lower in his secure hold, and you twist around your head to watch him dip the filthy brush in a green which has already been tainted by white and red in places. Your eyes follow it up again, until he fearlessly swipes in the graceful branches of the fir trees which cover the highest points of the island. You look at the rest of the painting, and a disbelieving giggle bubbles out of you, a smile across your face despite everything.

Unlike the mental image you’d been plotting in your head with the narration, this square of canvas has a line of slightly leaning buildings stacked beside each other tightly, colours smearing on the borders. In the middle of the uneven grey strip of cement down the middle to mark out the road, two trees stand proud, mostly green but with bleeding patches of muddy purple and brown too. Entire drops of paint spatter and run, creating a chaotic but vivid daydream of the end of the street in front of you.

“A lot better in your head, wasn’t it?” Taehyung asks knowingly. You laugh again, the last few tears pressed out of the corners of your wet eyes. “It’s okay,” he replies easily, “it was better in my head too. But the one in our heads is boring, don’t you think? If I wanted to see the street in front of me exactly, I’d just look up. Or take a photo. But nobody can visit this place we’ve painted. It’s just here, brand new because of us. I think I like that more.”

You sit up, wiping your eyes with a tired smile. “There’s no way you learnt all that from me,” you deflect, voice still raw from crying. “But yeah. I think I like this one more too.”

“I’m glad,” he answers softly, letting go of your hand and removing his hand from your back at the same time. You suppress a shiver at the sudden absence of heat. “I’ll let this dry and hang it up right beside The Barn at Icheon.”

You laugh again, sniffing away the last dregs of self-pity. “You better not,” you warn playfully, “as semantically poignant as it is, it’s an awful paintjob.”

When Taehyung smiles, it’s bright and boxy. And it’s just for you.

--

Time passes, but not like in the real world. Out here on this island, you start counting the passage of time by how many occasions you’d met Taehyung. Then, once you’ve seen him too often to count, you let yourself lose track of time completely, remembering only the moments spent with him like vignettes on a fragile chain.

The two of you always meet in the town or on the beach, speaking about everything and nothing. One day, while waiting beside the blue metal mailbox for Yeontan to pee (though Taehyung still insisted it looked better black) you tell him of the time you accidentally turned all your clothes yellowy-green after accidentally putting an apron in the wash that had an opened sampler of chartruese in the pocket. On a rainy afternoon when you’d gotten caught in the downfall walking through the forest, Taehyung told you, while wringing out rainwater from his rumpled maroon sweater, that he was meant to be studying agricultural sciences on the mainland, but his grandmother was sick and so he bought a place nearby to care for her.

“One good thing about being on the island,” he’d chimed cheerily, dark teal and brown plastered to his cheeks and forehead, “is that property is super cheap here. My grandma paid half and I paid half, and now the one-bedroom I live in is all mine.”

“But isn’t that sad?” you’d questioned, feeling the ground turn to mud beneath your shoes. “Living on the island, I mean? You should be in a big city, partying with your friends, living life. This place is like one massive retirement village.”

Taehyung had just shrugged. “My grandma likes it. And I like living for someone else, you know? Makes me feel good.”

Long after you’d gone home, warming up by the radiator in your beachside bungalow, those words had stuck with you. You wonder if, with all this time he’s been spending with you, he’s starting to live for you, too. You wonder if maybe that’s a bad thing.

But still, time passes in this hazy, episodic way. Money continues to filter out of your bank account each week you stay, but you hadn’t worried about your finances for years now, enough successful exhibits from your productive days keeping a healthy sum.

Though he never pushes as much as last time at the picnic table, Taehyung keeps you creating. Backs of napkins, tourism pamphlets, the kids colouring sets at the local diner. No matter how scrawled or indecipherable, the soft-hearted boy compliments your work all the same, slipping the scraps into his pocket with a joking promise that he’s going to frame them. Somehow, every unthought, unplanned line of ink or lead or pigment that lights the page feels like one less needle buried deep inside your heart, one small salve to ease the burden. You don’t know if Taehyung knows it, but in all the ways that count he’s a better artist than you.

When he’s around you, the world is lusher, more vibrant. Your time alone is grey and muted; a dull beach, an empty bungalow. With him, you feel like the sky is bluer and the trees are greener. The bonfire you sit in front of now casts an intense orange glow on everything around it, including Taehyung’s hands as he deftly impales marshmallows onto a skewer.

It’s cooler at nighttime these days. At some point, you’d both exchanged sandals for sneakers, t-shirts for sweaters. Taehyung seems to fancy heavy cable knits and thick trousers even in mild weather, and you wonder if he’d still wear clothing typical of an elderly gentleman even if he was on the mainland in a modern city instead of around the older generation on the island.

Tonight, you’d tried and failed a traditional Korean barbecue over the open flame. While Taehyung had shoved his cut of pork right into the fire, ending up with a charred outside and raw inner, you’d diligently held yours above the flames, turning and turning until the muscles in your arm screamed and you had to give up and admit perhaps the meat from the local butcher was cut too thick, and that a bonfire was good for nothing more than toasted marshmallows.

“This is where it’s at, this is it,” the young man enthuses confidently, each skewer laden with four or five marshmallows, bunched together, “dessert for dinner. The way it should be.”

You’re content to sit back and let him work excitedly, wrapping the edges of the picnic blanket low over your shoulders and lap. Though Taehyung is always devastatingly handsome, he’s the most gorgeous like this: focused in his element and surrounded by all the colours and textures of nature, a painting come to life. The heat of the flames is curling his hair lightly, making teal ends flick at his temples and the nape of his neck. His hair was growing out steadily, but still he chose not to cut it, and you can’t deny the length suits him.

“There’s more brown than green now,” you mention softly. “Soon it’ll look like dip-dye.”

Taehyung glances back at you over his shoulder with a rougish grin, shuffling around so he faces you fully. “What; is this your way of saying it looks bad?”

“No,” you defend with a pout, reaching for the near-full packet of marshmallows. “I’m just curious if you’re gonna leave it like that.”

Taehyung hums like he doesn’t fully believe you, and he leans over to shove his hand in the packet at the same time that you’re rummaging for the soft sweets, your knuckles brushing together. You shiver at the contact. Somehow, that’s been the first time you’ve shared skin contact since that day at the picnic table. Wide-eyed, you wait til he’s grabbed a bunch and pull your own hand away, empty and white with powder.

“Sorry,” he adds reflexively, but you just shake your head. How are you supposed to tell him that you liked the feeling of his skin on yours? Taehyung pops a pink marshmallow into his left cheek, letting it bulge and slur his speech as he gives you a broad grin. “You could dye it for me! My hair, I mean. Pick a colour.”

Against your will, you smile back, cheeks puffing at the thought. “I have no idea how to dye hair, Tae.”

Something flickers in his eyes when you say that, or maybe it’s the dancing flames reflected in them. He chews quickly, swallowing with a jerk of his jaw, and licks the rest of the white powder off his lips. “I bet it’s a whole lot easier than painting a picture.”

You scoff, but there’s no bite to it. “Oh, so you didn’t want me to paint one of my works on your hair, then? Don’t fancy Jeju Dusk on your scalp?”

Taehyung grins at the name, recognising the title of one of your earlier paintings - one that had been relentlessly criticised for its blending of techniques, something that later became your signature. “That’s my second favorite piece, you know? I have a print of it at home, and I saw the original in the Leeum Museum last year.”

You remember the director of the Leeum fondly. In your beginning years, he’d fought for your works to be shown in some of the frequent exhibitions they held. Even though you’d barely made a name for yourself, and had only recently moved to Seoul, Director Kim Namjoon took you in like a mentee and gave you a job himself as his PA. The experience you’d gotten there, as well as that vital exposure, had kept you business-savvy throughout your career, and once you were in a position to give back, you donated almost all of your original canvases to the museum in his name. Maybe one day you’d return home to Seoul and tell Namjoon of the boy who lived on a faraway island, the boy who taught you to open up again. Would Taehyung still be with you then? Though it hasn’t been long, it’s hard to comprehend a life without Taehyung. All you can visualise is a great absence, a lack. You banish the thought from your mind with a shake of your head, glancing back up to see the boy himself boldly setting a skewer of marshmallows on fire in the orange heat. “I hope that’s your one,” you joke weakly as he puffs out the blue and orange that lick at the blackening lumps.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what my favorite work is?” he asks instead, ignoring your statement.

You stay silent for a moment, observing the way he discards the charred skewer in his lap and delicately toasts the other one, swivelling the base so that each side of the marshmallow stack warms to a golden brown. Once he pulls it out, he hands it to you with an expectant quirk of his brow. You take the stick with a slightly suspicious smile. “What’s your favorite, Taehyung?”

“Your next one,” he answers immediately, gaze locked on yours.

You blame the heat radiating off the bonfire for the warmth in your cheeks as you suppress a smile. “Alright then,” you say decisively.

“Alright what?”

“Alright, I’ll dye your hair for you.”

He grins broadly, eyes crinkling into crescent moons as he starts eating his thoroughly-burnt marshmallows. “Tomorrow,” he announces, melted strings of pink and white pooling in the corner of his lips. “Let’s meet at the convenience store and you can pick the colour.”

You smirk at the way he devours the toasted marshmallows with childish glee. “You’ll regret that when you come out of this with highlighter orange hair.”

He chucks his leftover stick into the grocery bag you brought your supplies in, letting himself collapse backwards onto the heated sand. “I think I could pull it off,” he deflects calmly. “Just you see.”

Breath taken away by the peace on his face as he closes his eyes, your mind works dizzily, desperate to find something to keep him talking, to keep this moment between you alive. “Maybe you could get a job as air traffic control. Or a streetlight. Just you wait; it’ll be orange orange.”

Taehyung’s face warms in a lazy smile as he hums. He looks so peaceful lying there that you’re tempted to join him, but you choose instead to shuffle back from the fire so that you can see his face better. His hair’s splayed out over the sand, and you can see the warm flickers from the bonfire play over his neck, his jaw, and the tip of his nose. Taehyung’s right; orange does suit him. “I had a dream, you know. Last night.”

You feel - with the gentle breeze and the silence of the sea surrounding you - that perhaps you’re in a dream right now. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” his low voice hushes, barely louder than the popping of wood on the fire. “We weren’t on the island, we were in Seoul. Your wing of the Leeum Museum.”

You laugh shallowly, not wanting to make much noise for a reason you couldn’t quite pinprick. “I don’t have a wing at the Leeum.”

“You did in my dream,” he defends resolutely, the beginnings of a boxy smile tugging at his lips. “Anyway, we were in your wing, and I remember being so confused because I didn’t recognise any of them. But you told me they were all new. They were paintings of m-” he cuts himself off a beat too late, lips pressed together.

Your heart falters, a rush of adrenaline that flows to the ends of your fingers and toes. You fight to keeo your voice steady. “Maybe it was a premonition.”

Resting on his stomach, Taehyung’s hands twitch, his fingers twisting together. His smile flattens into a tense line and his eyelids squeeze shut tightly. “I don’t wanna get my hopes up,” he admits quietly after a short pause of thought.

Looking back, you can’t remember your thought process, or where your boldness comes from. Maybe something about the way the moment felt detached from reality, a timeless bubble of the two of you that sat adjacent to your real life, separate from consequence. Maybe it was the brief glimpse of pink as he wets the inner seam of his lips. Maybe you’ve just wanted this for too long to think rationally anymore.

Whatever it is, you swallow past the dryness in your mouth, bend down, and press a kiss to his lips.

Taehyung goes completely still at first. You’re cross-legged on the sand, knees faced to his side, and when you kiss him, it’s on enough of an angle that you feel his nose brushing your cheekbone, and you can feel your hair falling down either side of your face like silken rain. He stays still, though, and you press a little harder, just for a moment, before his lack of response shatters your streak of confidence.

With a minute sigh of regret, you lift off of him, ready to sit up again and apologise profoundly. But before there’s more than a few centimeters of air between you, his hand is suddenly snaking around the nape of your neck, fingers slipping up into your hair as he pulls you back down.

When you collide again with a gasp, his mouth is parted, and his teeth scrape against your bottom lip with his urgency. Losing your balance, you throw your outside arm over him, palm plunging into the sand just beside his head, and let your upper torso rest on his his.

“Taehyung,” you sigh onto his lips, shivering when his free hand rests hotly on your waist, thumb slipping under the hem of your shirt to rub maddenly over the sensitive skin of your stomach. “Oh, Taehyung.”

His lips are sticky with the remains of the toasted marshmallows, and tentatively you seek out that sweetness, kissing deeper, letting your tongue slide over the pinkened skin. He holds you so gently, like you’re made of glass, yet his mouth on yours is pure fire, and your breath comes in little gasps, bursts of oxygen that only fan the flames higher. It takes you a few moments to realise the humming in his throat and the motion of his lips are words, so softly spoken, but once you do you slow your movements to a languid stream to better hear them.

“...so beautiful, I’ve wanted to do this for so long, I must be dreaming…” He speaks with his eyes half-lidded, like he doesn’t want to fully lose sight of you, uttering words between sweet kisses, strong hands cradling you so carefully. He presses his lips against yours one last time and moves his hand from your neck to your face, thumbing tenderly at your cheekbone. “God, I’m so lucky to be by your side,” he gasps. “And when you paint new works and attend exhibits, I’ll still be by your side.”

His words are sweet, but something about them strikes an odd note in your chest, and you pull back slightly, shaking off his hands.

He looks at you with wide eyes and swollen lips which are parted in a confused pout. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s my paintings,” you whisper disbelievingly, “isn’t it? That’s why you think you like me. You like my paintings, and you think it’s somehow the same thing.”

He frowns, shuffling back to sit up, further apart from you than you’d been all night. “No,” he says automatically, “I like you, I just… I think you’re talented, and I want to help you-”

“It’s not your place to help me,” you snap back, and Taehyung flinches. “I’m not some- some out-of-order printer that just needs some TLC to start pumping out pages again. You’re a fan, Taehyung, not a fucking therapist.”

He lets those words sit in the air until they sour, staring at you with eyes shiny and lips trembling. “I know that,” he says, voice cracking, “I know that. I just- Just because you had issues with the Met Gala exhibit doesn’t mean you have to run away and hide, you know?”

Your mouth falls open. “I… I didn’t have issues with the Met Gala, okay, Taehyung? I blanked. Every time I tried to paint something for the exhibit, it sucked. I hated it. And then, eventually, I stopped being able to paint anything at all. It was like I just- I just couldn’t. And the Director kept calling, but I couldn’t answer him because I was so fucking humiliated, and you get the day of the Met and the walls are empty because Y/n L/n is a fucking failure. So it’s not- You can’t fix me, Taehyung. I’m just broken.”

The fire spits, crackles, as it smoulders down, nothing more than hot coals that barely light the surroundings. Taehyung, face slowly darkening to shadow, doesn’t say anything. Just sits. Waits.

You sniff, looking down at your hands. “My point is, Tae-” and you scoff at yourself for using a nickname at a time like this, “You shouldn’t like me. I have nothing to give you anymore.”

Sand sticks to your bare legs when you stand, but you make no attempt to brush it off. Though it’s nearly complete darkness, you see Taehyung’s hair shift as he tips his head up to watch you. Rather than speak back, he waits in the pitch black of the extinguished bonfire and lets you go.

Later, in the unforgiving silence of your bungalow, you find yourself gravitating not towards your bed but towards your suitcase, to the small wooden chest of travel paints you had brought never expecting to use.

It’s easier to paint than to think on your regrets and mistakes, and so you let your mind go black, your palette filling with shades of brown, ochre and beige, as well as a single swatch of teal.

--

The entire next day sees you in a sleep-deprived fervour, the entire main room of your bungalow cleared out and transformed into a makeshift studio, paintings drying on emptied bookshelves, sheets of old newspaper covering the carpet covered in stray spots of colour, the kitchen bench housing your mismatched array of paints and tools.

After finishing your first painting, you’d collapsed onto your bed as the sun began to rise, too exhausted to wash the dried paint off your hands and brow. But it only took a few moments of rest before you felt yourself sinking into a glum quicksand, sucked in by all the emotions swirling in your chest. Suffocated by the sole image of Taehyung, sitting alone on the sand in the dark as you walked away.

So, you’d gotten up, fed the itch in your hands and picked up a brush once more, and let yourself be taken by the mindless haze of work, of colours and angles and perspectives, starting to paint the knuckles on one canvas while you waited for the eyes to dry on another.

Just after 10am, your housekeeper had knocked on the door, and you’d had to play sick so that she wouldn’t come inside. If they kept your deposit or charged you damages for a stray lick of paint on some surface, what did it matter?

You threw yourself so intensely into these paintings, that weren’t art so much as sighs of relief, or buoys in a churning sea. It was all too easy to let your mind latch onto the task of mixing colours, of choosing techniques, of mastering proportions. Normally, you’d work in front of a landscape, or take a photo and paint it later, wanting to get things right, but Taehyung comes to mind with startling clarity.

Soon, your bungalow fills with artworks - some painted on newspaper, or pages of a book when you run out of canvases. Vistas of those moments with him like clustered vignettes: his eyes with orange glints reflected in them from that night with the bonfire; his hands wringing his sodden sweater the day you got caught in the rain; a boxy smile, the first time he ever grinned at you like that; and finally, just as your hands begin to shake too much to hold the brush steady, a lone silhouette walking down a dune, tiny dog tugging at the leash in his hand. The memories flow in reverse, like some sort of undoing, a wish to go back in time and do things right, to be better for him, to do right by him.

When you set the brush down one final time, fingers trembling with exhaustion, it’s nearly midnight. You realise with a dull pang that you’d forgotten to go down to the township to buy Taehyung hair dye. You realise he probably wouldn’t have come down either.

Your face is stiff in places where swipes of paint have dried, and your hair is tangled, thrown up a half-hearted ponytail that keeps threatening to slip, but as you stare around the chaos of the room, at the fevered paintings of him, only him, always him, your heart knows what to do. Whether you like it or not, you can’t go back in time and start new, start fresh. But you can go forward, and you know exactly where your feet will take you.

Well, maybe not exactly, because you’ve never been to Taehyung’s house. But shoving on some sneakers and wrappin yourself up in a jacket, you figure you can find it. The island’s population was barely fifty, and all the houses were in the same sleepy neighborhood behind the main street.

It’s after knocking on exactly twenty-six doors that you realise maybe you should just ask if the stranger knew Taehyung’s address, rather than leaving when somebody unfamiliar answered the door. Shivering, even with the thick padded jacket you’re bundled in, you decide that the next house better be the last. If they didn’t know where Tae was, you could just come back and pick up where you left off tomorrow.

The street is so silent that your sneaker soles on the gravel fill the void entirely, amplified in the chilled night air. As you went on, and the moon passed the center of the sky, less and less people even opened their doors, some that did scolding you for waking them at such an hour. You’d feel bad, only your mind’s entirely locked on one single person.

The next house you reach is small, like most of them, but looks particularly well-groomed compared to most. A gleaming white postbox with the number 13B rests beside the driveway and footpath, both of which are bordered by lush, freshly-mowed grass, almost black in the darkness. Like a beacon, a single lamplight shines white-yellow above the front door, and your eyes ache with the warm brightness as you knock.

After fifteen or so seconds, you hear muffled movement inside, and straighten your back expectantly, mentally running through your speech. A light turns on behind lacy curtains to the left, and eventually a blurred silhouette approaches in the foyer, unlocking the door.

You put on your most sympathetic smile and take in a breath when it cracks, revealing an older woman in mismatching winter pyjamas. “I’m so sorry to wake you, ma’am, but I was wondering if you knew a boy called-” As your eyes search the old woman’s face, you freeze. You know those eyes. “K-Kim Taehyung?” you finish, blinking widely at the woman who somehow looks so familiar.

Rather than grumble about the time or huff, she smiles broadly, lips tugging up in a boxy smile. “Well, of course, he’s my grandson!” The smile drops, brows furrowing in concern. “Is he alright?”

You suck in a breath through your teeth, eyes widening. “I- oh my goodness, I’ve heard so much about you,” you gush, her eyes crinkling fondly at your words. “Sorry, uh- yes, Taehyung is okay, I just-” You stop yourself, trying to steady your racing heart. “Mrs. Kim, you probably don’t even know me, but I did something bad and I need to make it right with him and I just… I think I’m in love with your grandson.” The moment you finish, something in your heart settles at the sound of the words lingering in the air.

She takes her time to reply, letting the words sink into her with a thoughtful sigh. “Darling, am I right in assuming your name is Y/n?”

You swallow quickly. “Yes, that’s right.”

She nods with a fond smile, a glimmer in her eye. “Then I think there’s something you should come see.”

“Inside?” After she waves you in and guides you to slip off your shoes and step into some house slippers instead, you find yourself awkwardly following her down a homely, perfumed hallway. “By the way, I’m so sorry for waking you.”

She waves it off before you even finish your sentence, sending you a kind wink. “No bother to me, lovie. I’m just glad you didn’t wake the dog.”

“The dog?” you mumble to yourself, before halting suddenly as Mrs. Kim pauses in front of a door, hand resting on the glass knob.

“My grandson’s been visiting me more lately, you see,” she explains, turning the knob to reveal a room in complete darkness, nothing inside visible. “He had so much to tell me and so much to do, became as hyper as a boy on Christmas morning! He told me not to go in here, but I couldn’t help myself.”

You step inside on her indication, breath caught in your throat as your eyes struggle to adjust. “I don’t understand…”

“Lovie, don’t worry about whatever went wrong with you two. You love him and… Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic, but it’s clear he loves you too.” And with that, she flicks the light on and the room comes into focus.

A barn. That’s the first thing you see. A painting of a bright, sprawling barn with a tiny dilapidated kennel in its shadow, wobbly letters spelling out YEONTAN. On the wall directly across from the door rests the original painting of The Barn at Icheon, close to a meter wide and half a metre high. The question of why he’d keep this prized possession of his in a random room barely bigger than a closet dies on your tongue as you turn, seeing the other walls.

A sketch of a bird you’d seen and wanted to show him, clumsily sketched on the back of a receipt with a pen from the lady at the grocery store checkout; a smudged map of your old neighborhood in Seoul that he’d made you draw on a napkin when you were explaining to him how far away the art supply store was; a tourism pamphlet that you and Taehyung had found on a park bench, drawing little Bigfoot silhouettes on the pictures of mountains and mermaids on the beaches. Every one of these thoughtless scrawls, careless scribbles and hurried drawings are here, each one framed or mounted like in a gallery, in order of the time they were made. You turn around slowly, barely noticing Taehyung’s grandmother in the doorway, giving you a knowing look. Finally, on the last wall, the trail of pieces disappear with a final creation, a canvas.

Feeling tears gather in your eyes, you look at the black smear of a mailbox, the wonky shops, the two tall trees incongruously planted in the middle of the street. And, in the bottom right corner painted meticulously in teal, the same teal as his hair, Y/n and Taehyung.

You let out a sob, turning back to Mrs. Kim. “Thank you for showing me this,” you make out in a voice thickened with tears, “but I really need to see him. Can you please give me his address?”

With a look of warm empathy, she steps forward to clasp your shoulders gently, maternally. “He told me about what happened, luvie. He doesn’t blame you.”

Trembling, you wipe the wetness from your cheeks and sniff. “He should,” you admit sullenly, “he’s too good for me. He’s been nothing but kind and patient and caring and all I’ve done is let him down.” Something occurs to you, and you frown in confusion. “Wait… Did he stop by and tell you?”

Her hands squeeze your upper arms comfortingly before dropping them and stepping back. “Oh honey,” she coos, and your heart stops as she steps aside out of the doorway, letting another, taller figure enter the room.

“Taehyung,” you whisper in shock, but before you can even comprehend his presence, his arms are around you, pulling you against his chest in a tight hug. You feel thick layers of pressure and worry evaporate off of you with a single moment, lungs filling with the familiar scent of him, body relaxing with his chin resting on your head and his arms cradling you. For what feels like a small eternity, you let yourself be fully enveloped in him, an indescribable catharsis of finally being in his arms once more. As your tears dry on the soft flanelette of his pyjama shirt and your fingers clutch at his back, you feel a thought transform into a certainty. “I love you, Taehyung,” you confess quietly, and his whole body shudders with a sob, arms tightening around you even more.

“I love you so much,” he confesses lowly, chest rumbling against your ear as he speaks. “And please don’t ever call yourself broken. You’re not. I didn’t love the art, I loved you. Because the art is a part of you Y/n, whether it’s perfect or not.”

“Tae,” you breathe shakily, his name the only word on your lips.

A soft voice comes from the hallway, Taehyung’s grandmother quietly excusing herself to “leave the two lovebirds alone.” You barely notice, lost in the way Taehyung gently rocks you back and forth in his arms, soothing you.

“I missed you,” you hear Taehyung whisper into your hair, nuzzling his nose gently.

Though you shiver at the feeling, you let out a teary laugh. “I saw you a day ago.”

“But it wasn’t the same then,” he insists softly, and a slow breath escapes you weakly. “It’s okay; you’re here now. You-” he breaks off to swallow, and when he speaks again his voice is much quieter, paper thin. “You won’t walk away again, will you?”

You answer by tipping your head up to look him in the eyes warmly, rising onto the tips of your toes so that you can reach his mouth, pressing a kiss against it tenderly. “Never,” you answer surely, “I promise.”

When he smiles, it’s beautiful - that big, boxy grin you saw that day on the dunes, that day you agreed to paint with him, and so many times since. But it never fails to make you melt, lips automatically returning the gesture. “Now,” he announces with a bemused lilt in his voice. “As much as I love this makeout session in my grandma’s closet, it is 2am. Shall we go get some rest?”

Sleep comes quickly once you have Taehyung’s arm around you and your face in the crook of his neck, and you let it take you, knowing you’ll have time to savor the feeling of sleeping beside him for many days to come.

--

You take him home the next day.

He hadn’t ever been to the bungalow before, but now there was something you desperately wanted him to see. You hadn’t cleaned up before you’d suddenly began roaming the streets of the island, and as he stares around at the chaos, you kind of wish you had. “It’s pretty messy, but…”

“No,” he deflects, mouth parted and eyes wide in wonder, “don’t apologise, this is- wow.” He steps further into the room, stepping over discarded paint tubes, dried canvases and uncleaned brushes. He takes a moment to take in each work. Every single one of them a snapshot of him. “How- When did you do all this?”

You bite your lip, loitering in the entryway. “From when I got back that night until I decided to come looking for you.”

He furrows his brow, fingers gently skimming the top edge of the painting that rests on the easel in the center of the room, the first one you’d painted. His teal growouts, his uneven eyes, the moles dotted so intricately on his face. Your Tae. “You haven’t been able to pick up a brush in months, and then...all this?”

“This was easy,” you say with a shake of your head, “it was easy because it was you.”

He turns, then, glancing at you over his shoulder with eyes brimming with affection. “You really love me.”

A disbelieving grin stretches across your lips. “The midnight confession didn’t make it clear enough?”

“It’s not that, I- I can read it,” he explains, stepping back over to you. “The Barn at Icheon is filled with loneliness, and a lot of your other works talk about fear or curiosity or patience. But this is all love. And it’s me.”

“It’s you,” you confirm with a soft smile, “I love you, Taehyung. So much.”

His eyes light up, then, a cheeky glimmer as his hand reaches out, gripping your elbow and giving it a playful shake. “If I’m your mojo then, you should paint something else today,” he bargains, “I wanna see your genius in action. The black mailbox sadly doesn’t qualify.”

Your mouth drops open in mock outrage, shoving his chest with a whine. “That’s not fair! You said you liked it better black.” Looking around at the disaster zone of the bungalow, you sigh. “I also don’t think I have any paintable surfaces left. I missed the housekeeper so I’ll probably get a fine as it is.”

“Use me, then.”

“Haven’t I painted you enough?” you fire back, but Taehyung just shakes his head emphatically.

“Paint on me. Here,” he says, and his hands leave yours in order to find the hem of his shirt, peeling his shirt off and tossing it into a far end of the room. “A big old waterfall, right down the middle. Rock pool at the bottom.”

“Stop it!” You blush fiercely, hands coming up to cover your cheeks as your eyes feast on his chest, the smooth planes and taut skin, a beautiful golden bronze. “Taehyung…”

For the first time, he doesn't press further. Instead, his shoulders sag, teasing facade slipping. "I'm sorry, you don't have to. I'll stop."

Inexplicably, you find yourself wanting to prove you aren't fragile anymore, unbroken just as he'd insisted you were last night. "I can do it," you protest, stepping away from him to fossick for some usable brushes. "Lie down, then."

Taehyung freezes. "Uh. Yeah, yeah, okay, gimme one sec, I'll just-" With the enthusiasm of a boy having his first kiss, Taehyung hunkers down on the newspaper-covered carpet, shuffling some tools and tubes and palettes out of the way. He looks beautiful like that, chest rising and falling shakily with anticipation, warm brown eyes widened on you. "You don't have to paint a waterfall, you know," he assures hurriedly. "Whatever you do will be perfect."

Heart leaping at his words, you feel a streak of confidence deep inside you, and instead of sitting beside him, you straddle his hips with a newly-filled palette in one hand and a brush in the other. "I want you to guess," you announce from above him, eying his chest and wondering how the colours might fill the space. "Guess what I'm painting. It'll be fun!"

Taehyung's throat bobs with a harsh swallow, nodding quickly. "O-okay, yeah, let's do that," he agrees weakly.

You smile warmly, and begin dipping into a forest green, coating the tips of the bristles. Bending down, you mark a single point of green on the top of his chest, just below his collarbone. The moment the cool paint touches his skin, Taehyung shudders, eyes falling shut. "Okay?" you check. He nods again, chest heaving, and so you continue tracking colour, gradual swoops downwards. Each drag of the brush makes Taehyung's breath catch, and you watch as goosebumps break out on his bare arms.

"Feels nice," he mumbles, lips barely moving like he didn't even intend to speak.

Your lip twitches, but still you focus, topping up the brush whenever the lines became too spotty. After trailing down to just above the level of his belly button, you raise the brush again, starting a new form on the other side of his chest, this one smaller. "Any idea what it is?" you question, but Taehyung just sighs airily.

Once you're finished with the forest green, you wipe your brush off on the edge of your palette and go for a deeper shade, pressing in shadows under each swipe of green. It's once you're working on the bottom half of the second structure that you begin to feel a hardness between your legs, the point where you're straddling him. Shocked, you look up, but Taehyung's covered his eyes with the back of his hand, face turned to the side with reddened cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he croaks out once he feels you stop. "Didn't mean to."

With a fond smile, you lean down, careful not to smudge the wet paint, and gently kiss the corner of his mouth. His fingers twitch and his lips part in surprise, but he otherwise stays still. "It's okay," you soothe, "if it's any consolation, I feel the same way right now."

Like a switch is flipped, Taehyung lifts his hand and tucks his chin, looking down at where the two of you are pressed together, then back up at your face. "Seriously?"

You laugh warmly. "Taehyung, I love you and you're currently lying beneath me, half-naked, writhing every time the brush touches you. Of course I'm turned on."

His cheeks flush hotter and he bites his lip. "You can- you can keep going. Keep painting."

Obediently continuing to fill in the shadow across his stomach, you grin. "Still no guesses on what I'm painting? I'm almost done, you know."

He cranes his neck down further, but the angle prevents him from seeing much. "Some-something green? I'll be honest with you, my focus really isn't-fuck!"

You suppress a laugh as he shudders, hands reaching out to clutch at your pants. Having finished the shadow, you'd mixed a paler green to add some light points on the tops, and one of those swipes had just happened to land across the top of one of his nipples, already stiff from arousal. You continue dipping colour here and there, smirking at the paint that covers the dark brown of his right nipple.

"You tease," Taehyung complains with furrowed brows. "Fuck, that felt good. Please tell me you need to paint the other one too."

You hum in mock thought, transferring your brush to the hand with the palette so that you can reach out, swiping a thumb over the sensitive flesh. Taehyung's whole body jerks, his hips beginning to grind under you, the dull friction pulling a pleasured sigh from your lips that's blessedly drowned by his drawn-out moan. "Why the pout, Tae? This was your idea."

"Next time I'm holding the paintbrush," he promises, hips moving slowly beneath you, eyes lidded as they focus on you, "then you won't be so cocky."

His words send a hot rush of arousal through you, and you rock your hips unconsciously, swallowing a moan. "Next time," you repeat breathily, "but for now I'm almost done."

It only takes a few more touches of pale green, followed by two vertical strokes of brown, before you're putting your tools aside, and standing up off of him.

Taehyung groans in complaint when your hips leave him, his casual grey sweatpants tented and a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Where are you going?"

"Come see," you guide, tugging at his hand. "I have a mirror in my room."

He gets up, palming himself with a pout before following you down the hall, pulled along by your interlocked hands. Once in front of the mirror, Taehyung lifts his eyebrows at just how wrecked he looks. Bottom lip swollen from biting at it, hair mussed and sticking up, and a burst of green slowly drying on his torso. "It's...trees?"

"It's us," you explain softly, "like that painting we did together the first time." From beside him, you reach around to gently tap each figure, two tall fir trees, the one on his right taller than the one on his left. "One for you and one for me."

Before you can pull your arm back, his hand comes up to flatten yours against his chest, hands going cold where the paint is still wet in places.

"Tae, you'll smudge it."

"Y/n," he said slowly, head turning to look at you, eyes brimming with affection, "will you let me make love to you?"

Your breath catches, and rather than trusting your voice, you nod wordlessly.

With a deep exhale, he bends down and joins your lips with his, a hand coming up to bury itself in your hair, keeping you close. His lips are hot against yours, passionate and wanting, and your stomach warms with desire. Clumsily, your fingers find the hem of your shirt, lifting it as far as you can before you have to break apart from him, flinging it away once it clears your head.

"The bed?" Taehyung pants in the moments his mouth is free, and you nod, shucking off your jeans before getting onto the mattress in just your bra and panties. "God, you're beautiful," he chants, "how did I get so lucky?"

He slips out of his sweatpants and joins you sitting on the edge, but your eyes linger on his face, the way his eyes soften and crinkle when they meet yours. "I'm the lucky one," you reply simply.

You shiver when a large palm runs up your bare thigh, warm and grounding. "Can I go down on your first?" he asks with a pleading gaze.

You laugh weakly. "I'm definitely the lucky one." In confirmation, you lie yourself back, scooting so your head rests on the pillows.

Hand now having slid down your leg to rest over your ankle, he wraps his fingers around and lifts it off the bed delicately, your knee crooking and legs parting. Smoothly, he slips himself in the gap, lying on his stomach and letting your raised leg rest on his shoulders. With eyes heavy on you, he leans forward slowly and licks a strip over your clothed pussy, a dull kiss of friction across your clit. You groan, head lolling back, and he takes it as his initiative to continue, sucking at the juices that have dampened your panties until the whole crotch is wet, your thighs shaking slightly with your increased sensitivity.

"Tae, please," you breath out, "I wan' more."

A finger slips below the hem of your panties, just over your hipbone. "Should we take these off?" You nod with a needy whimper, lifting your hips to give him easier access.

He sits up to slide them down your legs, calmly spreading your thighs again when you get the self-conscious urge to close them. With only your bra on, you feel so vulnerable, but rather than scaring you, you feel at peace, so happy to be having this moment with Taehyung.

When he shuffles back into place again, he takes his time, his warm breath tickling your inner thighs. At your needy wiggle of your hips, he chuckles and rubs soothingly at the top of your leg where it's crooked over his shoulder, finally dipping his head again to lick at you.

He starts out maddeningly light, the very tip of his tongue flicking slowly over your clit, tentatively venturing out to dip between your folds. You reach out for his hand, needing something to anchor you, and he smiles against you as he interlocks your fingers, keeping you grounded.

"So good, Tae," you encourage, moaning openly when his tongue trails lower and dips between your folds, over your entrance. "Fuck, so good."

Rather than answer verbally, Taehyung doubles his efforts and begins to speed up, lapping at your core and suckling your clit.

Every breath is a moan or a whimper, overtaken by pleasure, but you let yourself drown in it, letting Taehyung eat you out like a man starved. With one hand on your upper thigh and one entwined with yours, he's got no fingers free to play with you, but expertly he brings you to your peak with just his tongue, thrusting it inside you as his nose nudges at your clit.

When you feel your orgasm quickly approaching, your moans heighten and your back begins to arch, hips grinding against him desperately. Taehyung chuckles, the sound vibrating against you and making you shudder, and his hand slips high to press against your waist instead, holding you in place for him. Your thighs tense around him, praises and curses and his name spilling from your lips incoherently.

It's one last nibble at your clit, pulling it into his mouth and dragging his tongue over it, your vision whites out with the force of your orgasm, jerking beneath him and crying out wantonly, overcome with pleasure. He works you through it diligently, groaning as you come down from your high with weak shivers, his tongue never ceasing until you push at his head from oversensitivity.

He lets your leg down carefully, kissing his way up your bare stomach, the swells of your breasts and your throat until his lips are on yours and you can taste yourself on him, feel the ends of his hair tickling against your cheeks.

"That was incredible, Tae," you pant out, feeling boneless beneath him as he takes charge of the kiss, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth. "I need you," he gasps, and you moan throatily when his clothed crotch grinds against your bare core, the fabric of his underwear catching on your sensitive clit. He's hard, probably painfully so, and all you want is to feel him inside you.

Desperate, your fingers slip behind you, arching your back so that you can deftly release the clasp of your bra, pulling it off hastily before reaching for his underwear. "I need you too, Tae," you plea, "please hurry."

His fingers, slightly cool from the air, slide down your stomach and between your thighs, making you jump as he slips two inside, thrusting them slowly. You're still sensitive, and his mouth falls to your ear, hushing you and pressing encouraging kisses to your temple as you whimper. "Doing so well for me," he praises, "just gotta make sure you're ready, okay?"

"O-okay," you make out, sucking in a breath when he pulls out and presses a third finger inside you, picking up his pace. Gradually, the prickling overstimulation warms into pleasure again, and you rock your hips to seek more friction, free hand coming up to wrap around his neck and shoulders, holding him close.

With no bra on, your full chest is flat against his, and as the paint dries it drags over your nipples, making you arch your back, seeking out the friction.

The warmth between your legs tightens with the extra stimulation, and your breath begins to catch, feeling another orgasm oncoming.

"Close?" Taehyung murmurs in your ear as he widens the gaps between his fingers inside you, scissoring to stretch you even more. You nod hastily, moans getting stuck in your throat, pushed out with every gasped breath. Taehyung hums in response, and you whimper when you feel his fingers slipping out of you completely. Before you can protest, the blunt head of his cock slips between your sopping folds, Taehyung running it up and down to coat himself in your slick.

"Fuck, yes, please Tae, I'm ready," you babble, legs lifting to wrap around his hips, attempting to pull him in closer.

He chuckles, but it's cut off prematurely by a hissed breath of pleasure as he lines up and begins to sink his length into you, a delicious feeling of fullness after his fingers left you so empty. Taehyung enters you slowly, letting you adjust, and you feel completely enveloped by him; his voice in your ear, his hand in yours, his cock inside you.

"Need you, Tae," you whine once he stills, bottomed out, "please move."

"Are you ready?" You wiggle your hips with a groaned yes, arm tightening around him as he pulls back. He stops when just his head still rests inside you, pauses for a moment with a moan as you clench around him, and then plunges back in with one slick thrust.

You cry out, satisfied smile stretching tiredly across your face as he finally begins a steady rhythm, favoring deeper thrusts that make your toes curl. "Yes, Tae, so good!"

"God, you're still so tight," he groans throatily, "so good for me."

On the edge before, you find yourself close after only a few minutes, and you tell him with a shaky breath. Taehyung lets out a relieved exhale as he continues to thrust into you. "Thank fuck," he huffs out, panting a word at a time, "I'm not gonna last, you drive me crazy."

You press your head against his, nuzzling at it as you unwrap your arm from around his shoulders, instead seeking out your clit for the needed friction to push you over the edge. The added stimulation has you clenching, and Taehyung swears desperately, his pace picking up but shuddering as he gets close.

The two of you pant loudly into the otherwise silent room, filling each others' ears with whimpered moans and slurred praises, until you finally catch the tip of your peak, and with one final drag of his cock inside you, you're falling apart, not suddenly and violently like the first time, but rather a slow, hot wave of pleasure that works its way out from your core, down to your toes and fingertips, clenching tightly around Taehyung until he curses and spills inside you, shuddering through his release.

"I love you so much," you whisper once you come down from your high, a contented exhaustion seeping into your bones.

"I love you too," Taehyung says with a final press of his lips on your temple.

---

"This one's gorgeous. I love the broad lines on the ocean compared to the texture of rocks on the shore. This is at the island, you say?"

You hum in confirmation, smiling at your old friend. "You should see, it, Joonie. There's this little cluster of houses and shops right in the middle but the rest is just open nature. Forests, beaches, everything in the middle. I go there every year."

Kim Namjoon, Director at the Leeum Museum in Seoul and avid nature buff, takes one last look at the landscape canvas and grins. "Ah, twist my arm..." You follow him as he moves down the line of mounted canvases, stopping at a familiar portrait. He furrows his brows and cocks his head. "I feel like I've seen this guy before, something about the face... He didn't have green in his hair though, I must be confused."

You laugh at your friend, spying a shock of red through the swathes of people. "You have seen him before," you explain, catching the figure's eye, "you would have seen him here tonight."

In front of you, Namjoon raises his brows. "Oh, really? Who is he, then?"

Over Namjoon's shoulder, you watch Taehyung approach, turning heads with his scarlet dye. He gives you a wink, and you grin back. "He's my husband."

#ksmutclub #festivefrivolity #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung smut #bts smut #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #thekimlinenet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #magicshopnet #smutcentralnet #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #kth #v #namjoon

[mxchellesworld]

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: emotions of subdrop, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, degradation, use of toys, overstimulation  

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

Waking up you felt like a corpse rising out of its grave. It didn't seem like yesterday's scene was taxing on your body for you to feel so sore. Maybe it was the fact your orgasm came from two sets of hands compared to your own. Sitting up you noticed the bed was empty. You rubbed your eyes and stretched out your back before making your way down the hall. 

The smell of coffee and slightly burnt toast filled your senses. The first thing you saw was your dress folded neatly with your boots and purse on top of it. You internally groaned at how much of a slob you probably seemed to be.

"Hey look who's awake," Cat called, making you turn your head. 

You gave her a small smile making your way over to their kitchen table. She took sips out of her coffee while Spencer was over by the stove making what looked like scrambled eggs. 

"Come sit," she said, patting the chair next to her. 

"How long have you guys been up?" you asked as you sat down. 

"Like 45 minutes," Spencer spoke from behind you. 

He walked over with two plates of food, setting them in front of you and Cat. 

"You guys could have woken me up. I know you probably want me out of your hair. And I'm sorry for leaving my stuff everywhere last night," you said looking between the both of them.

You felt a sense of doubt wash over you. You couldn't explain the feeling but it was as if all your worries just planted themselves on your shoulders. The same feeling came over you last night but you fell asleep so fast you didn't have time to process everything. Now that you were awake and alert it was like everything was hitting you at once. 

They shared a look sensing your worries. Spencer turned the stove off and sat on the seat across from the both of you. Cat took your hand in hers as she started talking, "Y/n do you know what a subdrop is?"

You shook your head no in response. 

"A subdrop is when after a scene the submissive starts to feel sadness or maybe a bit melancholy. All the endorphins which were rushing through you are slowly leaving your system, hence the term drop, making you feel this way. Dominates can feel this way after a scene as well,” Spencer explained.

You stayed silent taking in the information. Cat's thumb rubbing over the back of your hand shook you out of your thoughts. 

"Do you wanna talk about how you're feeling. Since this is all new it's probably best to let everything out and we can walk you through it," she said with a soft tone. 

"Isn't that breaking a rule?" you asked quietly, "Last night you said no relationship type stuff.. I just," you took a pause, "I don't know I feel like you don't have to care about how I feel." 

"As your dominants it's our job to care about how you feel, especially during a drop or if you happen to slip into subspace." Spencer said looking into your eyes. His caramel orbs trying their best to deepen the message of his words. 

Cat put a strand of hair behind your ear. Unlike last night, she wasn't in her dominant headspace. The action was soft and comforting instead of teasingly trying to gain a reaction. 

"This might not be a normal relationship but I promise you that your emotions take priority over sex. Alright," she said, searching your eyes. 

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. You scoffed and let out a little laugh as you swiped them away, "Sorry I don't know why I'm so emotional. Thank you, that uh means a lot," you said looking at Cat then Spencer. 

You all shared a silent moment before Spencer spoke again, "Why don't we eat then spend the day in bed, unless you have any plans," he asked. 

"No, that sounds good," you said, more excited. After their reassurance you felt the glumness of the morning slowly slip away. You spent the time eating and making small talk. Cat poking fun at Spencer for always seeming to burn the toast. It was interesting to see them in such a peaceful element, it was as if the power they held last night had slipped away and they were nothing but literature nerds. 

_

The three of you made your way back to their fluffy bed. Cat had picked up the remote to the large television which hung in front of you. She put on a baking show and settled in the sheets. One arm under a pillow and the other was in her mouth as she bit her nails. Spencer was on the other side of you and picked up a book that was on the nightstand. 

You rested on your side facing Cat. The positions mimicked how you slept the night before. You watched as she laughed when people would get frustrated or make small comments on each person's decorating skills. Turning around you started to focus on Spencer. The way his eyes quickly darted across the page soaking up the printed words. His fingers following along and trailing down the page. Your mind drifted to the way they pumped inside you and you bit your lip to stifle a whimper. 

Instead you turned back to face the television, crossing your legs and letting your mind drift back to the cake building on the screen. 

By the end of the episode you were feeling antsy. The warmth of them surrounding you shot straight to your core. Cat was holding onto your arm and leaning into your neck. It was funny to see how she seemed needy, when in reality you knew she could have you on your knees with just one look. Spencer had finished his book and was resting behind you. His arm splayed across your middle as his front was completely pressed against your back. 

You tried to subtly shift, moving your hips back and forth to relieve the pressure on your core. Your attempts were cut short by a voice in your ear. 

"You better stop that if you want to be able to sit tomorrow princess," Spencer gritted in your ear. 

You truly thought about taking that as a warning but something within you wanted to push his buttons. Instead you started to shift more, grinding your ass against his length. His strong hand gripped your hips forcing you to stop. 

"Get up," he said lowly. 

"You should've listened to his warning angel," Cat said with mockingly.

Stepping off the bed Spencer wasted no time in bending you over the edge. He pulled the shirt out of the way and let his hand rub over your behind. You were pretty sure your panties were still somewhere in Cat's coat. The thought was cut off by a smack landing on the center of your ass. 

"I want you to count each one and thank me," Spencer said darkly followed by another smack. 

"Two, thank you Sir," you said breathlessly. 

He continued the punishment, landing hard swat after swat on your burning behind. You looked up at Cat hoping she would make him stop in an act of mercy. However there was no such luck. 

"Don't look at me like that. You're the one who decided to be a greedy little whore. Now take your punishment like a good girl," Cat said looking back at her show. 

You mewled at how little she cared about what was going on to her left. You felt the tears start forming in your eyes. You moaned after each continued smack. Once he got to ten he rubbed your sore behind and pulled your shirt back down. He turned you around and made you sit on the edge of the bed. 

"What's your color princess?" he asked. 

"Green Sir," you replied with a sniffle. 

"Good girl. You took your punishment so well. Too bad it's over you look so pretty with tears in your eyes" Spencer said, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. 

"Thank you Sir," you spoke up. 

"Thank you Sir," Cat mimicked from behind you, "How pathetic. If you want to act greedy then you're gonna be treated like the little slut you are." 

She pulled you by your arms to the center of the bed. In no time she had the shirt you had on over your head and tossed to the floor. She spread your legs and dipped her hand into your folds. 

"You're already dripping from a little spanking," she laughed leaning in close to your face, "taste yourself." 

She rubbed her soaked fingers on your lips before slipping them into your mouth. You held eye contact with her as you hollowed your cheeks around her digits. She pulled them out and landed a smack on your cheek, making you moan at the impact. 

"Aw did you hear that Spence? Looks like we have a filthy little pain slut on our hands," she said looking over at Spencer who was admiring his girlfriend on top of your writhing form. 

You let out whimpers at her words. They were dripping with venom but you loved the poison flowing through your veins. 

"Tell your Mistress what you want." 

You gulped before responding, "I want Sir's cock, please! I want him to fuck my slutty pussy." You felt your cheeks heat up at how desperate you sounded. But at this point you didn't even care. 

You looked over at Spencer who was hard in his sweatpants, the large bulge begging to escape its confines. You silently begged him with your eyes.

Cat’s fingers slipped in your tight heat making you arch your back at how quickly she was able to find your sweet spot. Your eyes squeezed closed and your mouth dropped in a silent scream from the overwhelming pleasure. Cat’s unoccupied hand went to your jaw to make you look at her. 

“Am I not good enough for you angel? Are my fingers not enough that you need to beg for his cock like a whore?” Cat said leaning in inches away from your face. 

“N-no Mistress. Fuck you’re so p-perfect. I’m sorry!” you tried to say in between breathy moans. 

You tried to turn your head to get a sight of Spencer who was now tugging on his hard cock but Cat’s hard grip stopped you. 

“Don’t look at him. You’re gonna look right into my eyes as you cum on my fingers.”

She moved her thumb in quick circles over your aching clit. The added pleasure along with her skilled fingers were enough to make you meet your end. You came with a silent scream as your legs trembled around her frame. She pulled her fingers out of you and motioned for Spencer to come over. 

He made his way on the bed and Cat turned to face him, rubbing your release on his lips before sticking her fingers in his mouth. You swore you died and went to heaven. That was the hottest thing you have ever seen. You heard him moan around her fingers before she slipped them out. 

“Go ahead Spencer, give our little slut what she wants,” Cat said demandingly. 

He wasted no time in settling between your legs. You watched as Cat got off from her bed and walked into the closet. You tried to get up on your elbows and looked at Spencer questioningly. Was she upset? I mean you’d be upset too if someone else was begging to fuck your boyfriend. 

Spencer sensed your worries and pushed you back on the sheets, “Don’t worry she’s not upset or anything. She’ll be back.”

You nodded your head reluctantly. 

“Color princess,” He asked swiping the tip of his cock over your folds. 

“Very green Sir,” you mewled out. 

Spencer aligned himself with your entrance and slipped in inch by inch. You cursed at the stretch, you could feel every vein along your walls. Once he was all the way in he looked in your eyes for any sign that you were uncomfortable. You gave him a nod to signal he could start moving. He started off with slow strokes for you to get used to his size. It was agonizing how much pleasure you felt but you needed him to go faster. 

“Please go faster Sir,” you whined out. 

“You want me to fuck you into the mattress? Is that what my princess wants?” he cooed lowly at you.

You frantically nodded and he wasted no time in diving back in. His quick strokes were driving you crazy. Each one hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were a mess of loud whines as the knot in your tummy was building up again. 

He dropped to his forearms, caging you in under him. One of his hands moved up your chest and around your throat. You whined out his title and shifted your hips trying to meet each thrust. 

You heard the closet door shut and turned your head to see Cat walk out. Your eyes widened at the large toy attached to her hips. She walked to the edge of the bed and pulled you by the hair to face her. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock and get it nice and wet for when I fuck you,” She left no time for you to answer and brought the toy to your lips. 

You moaned around it as she used her hand to bob your head up and down. 

“You gonna cum for me princess? I can feel you’re close,” Spencer gritted in your ear. Cat pulled you off the toy for you to answer him. 

“Please can I cum Sir, fuck I’m so close,” you whined and begged. 

His hand slipped down to rub on your clit. Quick circles made shocks of pleasure shoot through you. Just a little more and you would explode. 

“Cum on my cock pretty girl, let me feel you,” he said as he groaned, also close to his release. 

His words made the knot break and your second orgasm was through you. Your tight pussy squeezing around his cock led him to his end. You felt his warm seed spill inside you. You both sighed as he slowed his motions and slipped out of you. 

He rolled off of you and fell to your side. Cat immediately got on the bed, taking his spot and flipped you over, arching your back to her liking. 

“Whats your color angel?” she asked softly. 

“Green Mistress,” you said wiggling your behind in front of her. 

She landed a hard smack on your already red cheeks, “I’m not as nice as Spencer. Your teasing and acting like a slut isn’t gonna slide with me,” she said harshly. The way she slipped back into her dominating voice drove you wild. 

She started off with quick thrusts. The sound of her hips smacking against your thighs bounced off the walls. She held your hips with a bruising grasp. You were biting the pillow trying to stifle your noises but she wasn’t having that. She used one of her hands to pull you by your hair. 

“No no angel I wanna hear you. Who’s cock is splitting you open like this?”

You all but yelled in response, “Your cock Mistress! I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” 

Being on edge from your last two orgasms you were ready to burst again. You felt Spencer sit up and his fingers pressed against your clit. 

“Go on angel, let go for me,” she gritted out. 

Your body trembled at her words along with Spencers quick circles. ‘Thank you’s’ and curses left your lips as the pleasure consumed you. She pulled out of you and you fell limp on the bed. You took in deep breathes trying to get the air back that was knocked out of you. 

You felt her small hands flip you over and pepper small kisses over your cheeks then finally on your lips. You sat up and looked over at Spencer before pulling him into a kiss as well. 

You all broke apart and shared a silent moment of bliss before Cat spoke up. 

“I knew that fucker was gonna win,” she said looking back at the show which you had all forgot was still playing. 

You snorted and let out a laugh causing them to break out into laughs as well. 

“How about a shower then lunch,” Spencer suggested. 

He got up to get the water running and you helped Cat out of the strap on. You shared lingering glances until Spencer called that the water was ready. She got up from the bed and held her hand out for you. You interlocked pinkies and made your way to the bathroom where they smothered you in kisses and kind words. 

All your worries from earlier were gone. You could definitely get used to this. 

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐢 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞!!!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #cat adams x reader #cat adams smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #mgg smut #mgg x reader #chellewrites

[petri808]

Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku canon divergent au #blood quirk #vampire quirk #bakudeku au #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #decchan #ktdk #ch 6 #bloody passion #petri808

[frostsinth]

The Secret We Keep - Pt. 8

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7  - MasterList - 

 Guys...Guys I hate to spring this on you, usually I give you a heads up... but this is the last part. It just seemed right, the way the story flowed here. I am going to do a little epilogue, but otherwise this is where their story ends for now.

I hope you have enjoyed the slow, awkward, and bumpy ride. It has been a pleasure writing these two, and I’m going to miss them.

If you like this story, check out my others on my MasterList above. While you’re there, feel free to BuyMeACoffee. As always, comments and notes give me life. Shoot me a DM or an ask if you have any thoughts or questions, I love hearing from you all!

It was nearly midday by the time he made his way over towards the butcher shop. The big orc lumbered slowly, frustration lingering in the corners of his deep scowl. He couldn’t believe the woman had managed to slip through his grasp again! But he shook his head, removing the ax from his belt and leaning it in its usual hiding place in the crevice between the two buildings. He would catch up to her eventually. With his resources, it was only a matter of time. The last of those thoughts fell away as the wall of the yard finally came into sight, replaced with a sudden eagerness.

Hanste’kosh didn’t intend to bother with the gate; it was likely latched from the other side anyway. Or more, he hoped it was. As he moved to walk around the perimeter, as he always did, he couldn’t help reaching out to test it with a good yank. It stuck firmly in place, and he nodded in satisfaction. Though the low walls were hardly fortified. Perhaps he would get the boys to bring some mortar and stones. Build them up higher. Keep the place more secure.

The big orc chewed this over as he made his way around to the front. Bar’tok had been right. The place needed more security. And if the presence of the blacksmith’s boy the morning before yesterday was any evidence, just about anyone could get into the place.

He was surprised to find the shop door slightly ajar. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, but he gritted his teeth. He was being paranoid, he chided himself. Likely it was due to the cooler weather of the day; she was simply letting some air in.

With a grunt, he shouldered the door open the rest of the way, hunching up to slip through the tiny frame. His arms scraped the sides, but he was used to it, and rolled his shoulders back as soon as he was in the shop proper.

She wasn’t there. A quick glance around the small shop front confirmed the room was indeed empty. And oddly still; as if he had entered a crypt rather than a shop. Again, the tickle of hairs at the back of his neck set him on edge. But it wouldn’t be the first time he had come to find her in the back, he reminded himself. He nodded resolutely, glancing around once more and moving to the door to the yard.

Another scrunch and duck, and he was out in the open under the growing midday sun again. Slate blue eyes studied the yard. But it too was empty. Now his back grew stiffer, and his jaw tightened. He turned around in place, just to be sure. No fires burning. No meat cooking, no carcasses hanging. And everything looked as when he had last seen it. Unease settled in the pit of his stomach.

The house then. He made his way over, and his palms grew hot at the sight of the open door. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he would swear that was exactly how he had left it the other day. A muffled growl bubbled in his chest, and he knocked lightly on the frame. Popping his head in, his ears rang with the stillness. Empty.

Jerking back, he spun, glaring about with his brow heavily knotted. He gritted his teeth, and found his heart was racing in his chest. All his experience, all his level headed seasoning over the years, shot out of him like a bolt of lightning. Instead, an unfamiliar panic began to set in.

“Madara?” He called, his deep voice thinned by his emotions. It occurred to him he had never said her name out loud before. The sudden realization that he may never say it again hit him like a brick. “...Maddie?” He quickly said it again in denial of that thought.

There was no answer. He felt a foreign numbness wash over his body, dragging him down. He staggered, reaching out to place one hand on the wall of the house. His mind jolted, his blood rushed in his ears. The orc blinked stupidly a few times, and his hopes fell like an anchor tossed off a cliff face. Unable to deny the evidence piling before him.

She wasn’t here. She had abandoned the place. Probably gathered what she had been saving to buy the tavern over the past few days and run… from him. He had finally scared her off. Been too bold, too forward. Had pushed her too fast. Promising her palaces and treasures! It must have sounded crazy… But no crazier than her convincing him that he made her happy. That she wanted him and nothing else. It stung like a fresh burn, and he shook his head at his own stupidity. As if that could ever be true... 

Or, alternatively, perhaps he had waited too long… Perhaps she had realized she didn’t want to have a lover she only saw once a fortnight. Was tired of his secrets and his silence. Maybe she had realized who he was. What he did whenever he left her side. What life he led out of her sight.

The big orc gave an angry growl. He shoved the nearest thing to him, which happened to be a barrel. Watching it rock and fall to its side hardly appeased him, and his eyes flashed with fire. He grabbed it, easily hoisting it over his head and tossing it across the yard. The sound of it shattering echoed in the emptiness. He grabbed another, tossing it with a roar. Then upturned the trough. The water splashed about his boots before seeping across the ground. Next went the old cauldron, clattering and spinning across the yard with its contents pouring out like a trail of blood behind it. His big fist caused the wall of the house to shudder as it connected, and he growled and punched it again. And again. Until a crack formed in the mortar and the rafters groaned and rattled.

Hanste’kosh shuddered, suddenly finding his legs weak beneath him. Slowly, he let himself sink to the ground, bending his knees and propping his elbows on them. Leaning his back against the wall and dropping his chin to his chest. What a fool he had been! To let himself get so caught up in a trivial crush for a human. It bit sharp teeth into his heart to think of her; to think that after their night together maybe she had realized that he was, after all, an orc. And she a human. She was scared of him, that must be it. His sudden anger only proved that she was justified to be so, and he felt a throbbing guilt clutching his heart. For being too big. For being too gruff. For being rude, and brutish, and…

The sound of snorting and squealing hardly registered to him, sitting forlornly in the empty yard. The thundering of cloven hooves, the shouts. None of it mattered. He stared at the ground by his feet, numb to the world.

“Boss!” Came the shout again, closer this time.

Hanste’kosh tilted his head back slowly, looking up at his second. Bar’tok’s went wide as their eyes met, staring at him in shock. Usually, this disrespect would warrant a glare, or have his familiar heavy scowl set into place. Would have him growling in a way that made the smaller orc’s knees knock together. But now… he just looked...

“...Hey, Boss… are-are you ok?” He panted quietly, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The large orc gave a soft grunt, looking past his second dully. He could hear the hog squealing and snorting on the other side of the crumbling wall Bar’tok had easily scaled. Usually they didn’t bring the boars into the village. Too much attention. But it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered.

Bar’tok looked around, taking that moment to catch his breath. The silence that rang in his ears, despite his boisterous entrance, and that as well as the look on Hanste’kosh’s face had him drawing a quick conclusion. Not to mention the scene of destruction in the yard; broken barrels, upturned trough, burnt stew and dented pot. 

“Is she-” 

He drew in a sharp breath at the dark glower shot back at him in warning. He cleared his throat, disappointment sinking into his chest. One hand reached up, rubbing at his green neck dejectedly. But he shook himself, remembering why he was there. 

“... We’ve gotten word. We know where the Red Wren is now.”

Another grunt, louder this time. His thick brow was beginning to knot up into its familiar angry glower again. But it seemed more hollow. Less the battle scarred fearless warrior Bar’tok had come to know. More like a hollowed survivor, tired of fighting and looking forward to meeting his end on the field. The sight made him shift nervously. The larger orc straightened his big head, thick locks heavy around his shoulders. Slowly, he stood, growling quietly. Despite his old scowl returning, the life seemed drained out of him as he stomped back to the shorter wall.

Bar’tok lifted his hand, thinking to say something. But he couldn’t quite imagine what. Eyes darted about, considering the abandoned yard. A frown tickled at his face. It seemed strange to him. She had been so besotted! Had they gotten into a fight before the Boss had left last time? Had he threatened her, or scared her? It wasn’t out of his nature for his line of work, but even with the little he had seen, he could tell the older orc was a different person around her. Though honestly, he was surprised she had lasted as long as she had at all. Hanste’kosh was an absolutely terrifying presence on his quieter days! The younger orc couldn’t imagine he made good company for a tiny little human.

It had been nice, though. Seeing his Boss so happy. Not that anyone would know it to look at him; but Bar’tok had been working with him for a long time. He knew his quirks. Knew each grunt and scowl and twitch. He had seen the vigor she had brought to him. A previously overzealous workhorse had been replaced by an overgrown pup suddenly eager to finish the job so he could leave to spend time with her. And now…

He sighed heavily, a frown still set deeply into the corners of his mouth. It didn’t seem right. She had been too pure! Too good! Why would she just up and run all of a sudden? Had she said anything? Left a note? He had to imagine she would. She didn’t seem the type to just leave things hanging. Shaking his head, he followed after his boss. Not much to do for it now, right? There would be no talking to Hanste’kosh in a mood like this. The big orc looked like he was moving on instinct rather than conscious thought. Trying to stand in his way would mean being mowed over in his wake.

Both orcs scaled the wall easily, leaping over and landing heavily on the other side. Startling the crap out of a slender boy heading towards the shop entrance. He jumped with a yelp, but quickly straightened. Bar’tok would have ignored him entirely, save for the curious glance he shot Hanste’kosh. As if he had seen him before.

“H-hey!” The teenager stammered, “Y-you’re that orc-” The growl shot his way had the boy squeaking and shrinking back again. Bar’tok almost smirked in amusement. But the teenager fixed his jaw and squared his thin little shoulders. “H-have you seen Madara?”

Hanste’kosh may have winced at the name, but turned his back on the boy with an angry snarl to hide it if he did. Bar’tok shot the human a look that warned him into silence, giving a small shrug almost apologetically. He turned back to his Boss.

“An old sailor caught sight of a red-haired woman with a scar on the side of her nose down by the docks.” He explained, trying to distract the larger orc. “Yesterday evening, at the latest.”

“That sounds like the lady that was here!” Piped up the tiny human.

The adrk green-grey blur shot past Bar’tok before he had a chance to react, leaving the smaller orc dazed in his wake. Hanste’kosh had the human teenager by the scruff of his shirt and hoisted high into the air before the yelp had even finished petering from his mouth.

“What did you say??!” Demanded the huge orc, his voice a reverberating growl that echoed like thunder around them.

The boy put up his hands, quaking in absolute terror. “I-I.. I-I” He was stammering so much he couldn’t seem to find the words.

Bar’tok stepped over, sliding into the boy’s line of sight. “You saw someone like that here?” He pressed, trying to sound encouraging. His mission was not helped as Hanste’kosh shook the teenager like a ragdoll.

His feet kicked uselessly above the ground. “The day before last!” He squeaked, “S-she was looking for the person who cooked the roast pig she had sampled! I-I saw her go into the shop….” His eyes managed to go even wider as a sudden realization seemed to hit him. “I… I haven’t seen Madara since…”

Hanste’kosh dropped the boy, who fell in a heap on the ground with a shout and a whimper. The big orc was at the war hog’s side in two strides, moving faster than anyone would have ever thought a creature of his size could be capable of moving. Bar’tok’s mouth was still half open to speak as the larger orc had settled himself in his mount’s saddle.

“Which docks?!” He snarled at his second, eyes feral.

….

“Wakey wakey, love!” Came a sing-song voice.

I groaned, my head pounding. I moved to reach up one hand to cradle it, but found they would not obey my will. I struggled to comprehend the wash of sounds that hit me, the strange air filling my lungs. My throat felt dry and my eyes struggled to open. My head throbbed and pounded from a focused point at the back of my skull and radiating out.

“Here she comes! Atta girl.”

That voice again. I knew that voice. It brought to mind the memory of flashing red hair and the hint of a point to a pair of pale ears. In my shop, I remembered. The sing-song tone asking me questions. The same unease that had curled around the base of my spine then returned, and I fought the blinding light that edged my vision.

I came to slowly, rolling my head back and looking about. I was in a room, a large room, filled with crates and barrels and various other shipping containers. The rafters were so far overhead I couldn’t make them out, but shafts of sunlight caught drifting dust motes among the beams. Ropes and large canvasses were draped about, and the distant chatter of voices and boots on wood echoed around me. I blinked a few times, drawing in a steadying breath. It brought with it a briney scent. I frowned. I had never smelt anything quite like it! Almost like fish, but saltier, and wet.

Feral green eyes waited for me when my vision cleared, along with a sharp smirk on pristine white teeth. I took in the woman with flaming red hair before me, and stiffened sharply. It was then I realized my hands and ankles were bound to the hair I sat in. I swallowed the dryness in my throat, fear settling its claws into my chest.

“Well, well,” She purred, straightening with her hands tucked into the small of her back, “I must have hit you harder than I thought, though I’m sure the drugs were also an overkill. You were out for almost two whole days!”

I twisted my wrists in the binds experimentally, gritting my teeth. “Who are you? What do you want?”

She laughed, slowly pacing around me. “Consider me an old colleague of a dear friend of yours.” She stopped at my shoulder, bending low to speak straight into my ear. “Absolutely astounding job on the pig, by the way! As far as last meals go, it was quite the hit.”

“What are you talking about?” My voice was high with my fear, and I wriggled against the bindings again. “Why am I here?”

She continued her circle, chuckling again. “Oh, you’re here to ensure my safety, sweet girl.” Now standing back before me, she put her hands on her hips. “I seem to have found myself on your mate’s bad side.” She reached out and tweaked my nose sharply. “And you’re going to help me off.”

“My mate?” I echoed, dumbstruck.

Again, her laugh rang out. “My, but aren’t you the pretty, ignorant little duckling. Do you have any idea who you invited into your bed?” Her grin grew malicious, “Or do you just go crazy for any big orc who will have you?”

It suddenly clicked in my head whom she meant, and I felt a cold chill run down my spine. She smiled, seeing the realization creeping into my face. She glanced over her shoulder at the guard posted by the door, then turned back to me.

“A dangerous creature, that lover of yours. Tell me,” She crouched down to be face to face, “Does the beastie have a heart? Or just a really good cock?”

My face burned hot, and my mouth opened in surprise. She gave another vicious laugh. She straightened, turned and strode back towards the door. I wriggled again, then tried my ankles next, tugging and rolling them. I even craned my head to look as far over my shoulder as I could, as if perhaps there was some opportunity to escape just out of my sight. 

The woman nodded to the guard, finishing whatever she had been saying, and turned back to return to my side. 

“I hope you’re valuable to him. Or you’re really no good to me at all.” She kicked my chair lightly. “Just dead weight.” I glared up at her as angrily as I could manage despite my racing pulse in my ears. She merely smirked again. “You think he’s missing you by now? Don’t fret, I won’t keep him worrying long. I’ve just sent word to let him know you are safe and sound with me.” She tapped the point of my nose with one finger, and I shook my head in frustration. “No reason for this to get messy, don’t you agree?”

She jerked up quickly as a loud commotion suddenly filled the air. The sound of shouting, and splintering wood. Crashing bodies and breaking glass. The clang of metal against metal and shrieks of pain. Her eyes went wide, then narrowed. A blade appeared in her hand so fast, I didn’t even see her move. With a swift slice, she freed my wrists and ankles and yanked me to my feet.

Just in time, it seemed. The massive doors of the old building seemed like they exploded before us, with a huge boom that sent splinters flying. I squeezed my eyes shut to block out the cloud of dust that flew in our faces. I felt her arm wrap about my shoulders, felt her tug me closer. The sharp edge of the blade was pressed to my throat.

I blinked, gasping as the dust began to settle and a huge, familiar frame filled the new hole in the wall. I almost melted with relief at the sight.

“Hans!” I shouted.

His responding snarl was more vicious than I had ever heard it and made my breath catch in my throat. So loud the rafters shook over us. Slate blue eyes fixed with a burning ferocity at the woman behind me. Her arm tightened around my body, and she jerked us both back a step. Brandishing her knife so that it’s sharp edge caught a glimmer of light. I reached up, tugging at her arm weakly with both my hands. My movements still sluggish and clumsy.

“Hans?” Echoed the woman, then laughed boldly, “My, but that is so sweet. Ah!” She exclaimed as he took an aggravated stride forward, “Not another step. I assume you want your precious little butcher girl back in one piece, yes?” I could feel her hot breath in my ear, “She’s not the only one who knows how to cook a pig.” Hans froze, and his big eyes narrowed. “Quite clever, by the way. I must commend you. Sending such a delicious roast to my barracks laced with belladonna. Must have been like lambs to a slaughter for you.”

“It’s over, Wren,” Growled Bar’tok, appearing from the settling dust to stand at Hans’ shoulder with a big ax brandished, “The warehouse is surrounded. There’s no way you leave here in one piece.”

She chuckled behind me, but I could feel her nervousness as her arm gripped me a little tighter. “No, I don’t think that’s quite true. See, you’re gonna let me walk right out of here. That is, if you ever want to see your little friend here again.” She pulled me back as she moved a step. The orcs matched her, and she pressed her knife against me hard enough to make me gasp. “Don’t test me! Call off your man, Hanste’kosh Blackheart. This is between you and me. Well, you, me, and your sweet little human plaything here.”

Hans raised his hand, signalling Bar’tok to stand down. The smaller orc growled softly, but did as he was told. Lowering his big double sided ax slightly. I heard the stamping march of boots from the outside, and more growls and grunts. Wren twitched behind me. I wriggled in her grasp, but she jerked me off balance, still keeping the blade pressed to my throat.

I had never seen Hans like this. His face was contorted into a feral rage, so foreign to me it made his features seem twisted and dark. His tusks looked larger than I remembered them, and his hair fell about him like a wild mane. He looked like a wild animal. I barely recognized him; his huge, muscular arms flexing, a trail of spittle forming in the corners of his mouth. I glanced at Bar’tok, who looked equally outraged, then back to Hans. My mind raced and my breath was shallow. I swallowed hard, feeling the knife press deeper into my flesh and making me wince. Somehow, Hans’ face managed to become more twisted at the sight.

“...You’re going to let me get on that ship,” The woman was saying, and I blinked, realizing she had been talking for a while now, “You’re going to let me sail away. And then you’re going to forget about me.” 

She was dragging me now, and my feet slid on the damp floors as I tried to keep them under me. I struggled against her again, and felt the blade knick my skin as she tightened her grip. I heard Hans’ growl as I gasped at the slight stinging pain that came along with it. Felt a single pearl of blood drip down my neck.

“You’re going to regret that…” He snarled, his voice a deep, booming thunder in the old building.

“Get back!” She shouted at them, but her voice shook a little. “Let me pass! NOW!”

The orcs exchanged a quick look, but then reluctantly did as they were told, slowly stepping to the side. Creating a passage between them. Neither seemed pleased about it, their fists wringing, their snarling visages deepening. But slowly, she advanced, her gaze darting back and forth between the two. Daring them to try something. Hans’ growled again, a deep, monstrous sound that sent a shiver down my own spine.

I felt her wince behind me, and heard her swallow loudly. Her hand on the knife loosened, I could feel the pressure lightening. I glanced at Bar’tok, then at Hans, whose eyes seemed fixed on the blade at my throat. We were nearly to them now, edging towards the one exit I could see. I waited, my breath trapped in my lungs, my heart like a drum thrumming in my ears. My hands shook, but I watched the gap between us slowly shrink with each tiny step forward that she dragged me.

She shifted, her stance not as tight. She was distracted, maybe by a loud sound. Maybe in the process of switching her wary gaze from one orc to the other. But I felt my opportunity. And I took it.

In a flash, I grabbed my own balled fist and slammed my opposite elbow back with as much force as I could muster. She cried out, buckling over in surprise and pain. Her knife hand going wide, her arm loosening. I twisted free, doubled over, and then I ran. I ran as fast as I could, sprinting. Straight to Hans.

I slammed into his chest at full speed, and felt the wind knock from my lungs. He didn’t even flinch from the force of my charge. My mouth gaped uselessly, but I felt his arm drop down. Encasing me. Lifting me and spinning with me. I could hardly process our movement as he spirited me away. The last thing I heard was a deafening scream.

By the time the air had returned to my lungs, the sounds of the warehouse had faded behind us. I tried to turn my head, but was buried so deeply in his rough armor that I could barely breathe let alone move. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped that whatever was happening, Hans would know what to do.

I’m not sure how long I stayed like that, but eventually, I felt my feet slowly being lowered back to the ground. Felt the corded, muscular arm around me slowly loosen, and I leaned back carefully. Craning my head back to look for his face.

Gone was the snarling visage and feral beast. Gone was the dark shadows and angry glower. His big blue eyes were soft and searching, his thick hair a black frame around his square features. His jaw was slack and his tusks seemed less pronounced than minutes before. The familiar face I dreamed about each night.

My Hans. My big, gentle Hans. I let out my breath in a rush.

His big hand came up, hesitantly running his fingertips over my jaw. I saw his gaze flicker down to my throat, and his thumb moved to trace the thin cut there. A soft growl reverberated in his chest. I brought my own hand to cup his, and realized I was smiling. Despite it all. Despite the fear pounding my chest still and the fact that my knees quivered beneath my skirts. Just seeing him again was enough to make me smile.

“I’m fine.” I assured him, my voice breathy and thin.

He growled softly again, and his big lip seemed to quiver slightly. I curled my fingers around his hand and gave a gentle squeeze. There was a snort behind him, and I managed to glance around him to see a large red boar saddled and waiting. Its big nose twitched, and it snuffed at my scent. I heard the caw of birds, and looked up to see white gulls circling overhead. Now that my pulse was calming, I could hear not the rush of blood in my ears, but the crash of water. I took in another deep breath of the salty air.

Some cleared their throat quietly behind me, and I jumped a little. Hans’ face hardened slightly as I turned to see Bar’tok standing there. He rubbed at the back of his neck, shuffling his feet and spinning his big ax in his free hand.

“Sorry to interrupt, Boss,” He began, and cleared his throat again, “But the... clean up crew is here.”

I felt his hand clench around my fingers, and turned back to see him stiffening. He looked down at me, then back over towards the warehouse a few yards away. I could see various men, mostly orcs, milling about. They seemed to be searching for something, and clearing crates and debris.

“Go.” I told him, squeezing his hand again. “I’ll wait here.”

His slate blues came back to me, and I saw his face soften again. He reached up our clasped hands, running his thumb along the tip of my chin gently. But he nodded, slight scowl returning as he turned to address Bar’tok.

“Stay with her.” He ordered the smaller orc, who nodded respectfully.

Hans gave my fingers one last gentle squeeze, then reluctantly released them to turn and head back to the warehouse. Bar’tok stepped aside as the hulking orc stormed past him. When the smaller orc turned back to me, he offered me a sheepish grin, hoisting his ax up to rest over his shoulder.

“Good to see you again, ma’am.”

I almost laughed, but offered him a shy smile instead. “Glad to see you too, Bar’tok.” I glanced back over at the boar, shifting my weight. “I definitely owe you a huge breakfast now.”

He did laugh, and moved over to slap the boar on the side. The beast gave a hearty grunt, and I wandered over to it curiously. I had never seen one up close before. It was huge! Its head alone was nearly the size of my whole body. I reached out one hand towards it, offering it my palm to sniff.

“I’ll take you up on that sometime, ma’am.” He replied, half leaning against the beast as it gently wuffed at my hand.

As it seemed content, I reached up and ran my hand over its big face. The hairs were coarse and thin everywhere except for where it ran down the spine at its neck, and underneath its fur the thick hide of the pig was almost scaly. It seemed to enjoy my attention, snorting and jerking its head up into my hand.

“You are most welcome anytime you’d like,” I told him, and let out a shaky sigh, “Any meal, anything you want. It’s on the house.”

“... You alright ma’am?” He asked, and when I glanced at him, he smiled kindly.

I returned the smile, looking back at the boar as I ran my nails over its forehead. It snorted happily. “... I-I… I’m not sure…” The back of my neck itched, longing to turn to let me look back at the scene behind me. “I don’t know what to think right now…”

Bar’tok considered me quietly, wringing his hand along the handle of his ax. I scratched the boar’s head, still quivering a little, my heart skipping every few beats. I couldn’t help but recall what the lady had said, about Hans. About who he was. And something about roast pig. My roast pig, I had to assume. I swallowed nervously, trying to piece it all together. Not entirely sure I wanted to. What had she called him? Blackheart? That wasn’t an orcish name. That sounded like the kind of name one was given… The kind earned by reputation…

“You really don’t know who he is, do you?” Bar’tok asked, and I started slightly out of my contemplations at the sound of his voice, “You have never heard of him before?”

I stiffened, my hands slowing. Quietly, I shook my head. When I finally managed to look up at the orc, my eyes held the question my lips couldn’t seem to form. Did I want to know? Did I need to?

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Look, it’s not my place really,” He grumbled, staring down at his feet, “But… For what it’s worth… The Boss is absolutely crazy about you. When he went to your place, and saw you missing? I thought he might burn the whole village to the ground.” I winced, and he quickly added, “Metaphorically speaking, of course… mostly.”

I let out a nervous laugh and shook my head. I ran one hand up the snout of the beast before me. Tracing my fingers as far up as I could reach. It brought its head lower so I could scratch by its ears.

“Part of me thinks that maybe he’s happy you don’t know…” Bar’tok continued after a few moments, “Because you like him for who he really is… And you do like him, right?”

I couldn’t help the smile that split my lips, and instantly felt my cheeks warm afterwards. I glanced up at the orc through my lashes, and saw a tiny smile at the corners of his own mouth. He let out a hefty sigh, patting the side of the boar and adjusting his grip on the ax.

“Just… be gentle with him, yeah? I know it sounds stupid, but…”

We were interrupted by the heavy stomp of boots, and turned to see Hans making his way back over. He squared his broad shoulders, shooting Bar’tok a dark, suspicious look. The smaller orc cleared his throat and straightened quickly. When his eyes fell on me though, everything softened and his face seemed to brighten. I dropped my gaze shyly, but couldn’t ignore the pitter-patter of my heart in my chest.

Hans jerked his head over his shoulder at Bar’tok, moving over to the boar’s side. The smaller orc quickly shuffled out of the way, nodding his understanding. He glanced at me as he passed, hesitating a step.

“Get home safe, ma’am,” He told me, “I hope to see you again real soon.”

I gave him a polite smile, tilting my head. “Join us for that meal I owe you sometime.” He grinned his large, goofy grin, and returned another nod. “... And Bar’tok?” I called as he started to turn away. He glanced back at me, and I fumbled with the words for a moment. “... Thank you.”

I saw his eyes dart over my shoulder briefly, and could only imagine the expression that he saw there. His face paled slightly, but he managed a slight smile, and a final nod. I turned back to Hans as he spun back towards the warehouse. Hans glanced after him, then settled his big blue eyes on me. After a moment’s hesitation, he gestured to the hog, and I slowly moved over to him.

I couldn’t even reach the top of the boar’s back, but as soon as I stood at his side Hans wrapped his big hands around my waist and hoisted me up. Settling me into the front of the saddle just behind the horn. I clutched it nervously as the big orc vaulted up behind me. His huge arms encircled me, and he took up a chunk of the beast’s thick mane in his hands. With just his thighs, Hans turned the boar and spurred it forward. It gave an eager squeal, and we were off.

The heat of Hans behind me felt like a dream. As if none of this had happened at all, and I was still at home safe in my new bed. Despite the lurching gate of the hog beneath me, I closed my eyes and leaned back against Hans’ chest. I felt him adjust to my shape after a moment, and one hand came free from the thick mane to wrap lightly around me. Cradling me in place. I rested my cheek against his warm bicep, placed my own arm over his. Hugging it to me. My head still throbbed a little, and the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky. We didn’t speak, though I couldn’t even begin to imagine what to say. The craziness of the day overwhelmed me, and I felt myself sinking into a restless daze.

The next thing I remembered was the sensation of his arms scooping me up. My eyes fluttered back open, and I looked around. The salty smell in the air was gone, as was the cawing of gulls. It was very late, but I recognized the silhouette of my house in the dark, and nearly sighed with relief. I started to wriggle, to try and slip my feet back down to the ground. The deep rumble of his growl vibrated against my ear, and he tightened his grip gently. I relented without complaint, and let him carry me all the way to the tiny doorframe. He scrunched up and bent in half to fit us both through, but managed, and walked quietly over to the big bed.

Gingerly, he laid me down in it. I looked up at him, but he seemed to be avoiding my gaze. His hands reluctantly retracted, leaving me to shiver slightly at the sudden loss of their heat. I sat up slowly, pulling my knees up to my chin and wrapping my arms around them.

“You’re safe now,” He said quietly, his deep voice like the distant rumble of a storm, “Sleep.”

“...Where are you going?” I asked, equally quiet.

He hesitated, and I heard him give a soft grunt. Saw him shift his weight and rub at the back of his neck with one big hand. I was certain if there had been more light, I would have seen the flush rising to his face. I swallowed nervously, and felt the heat creeping up to my own cheeks.

“... You’re staying?”

I thought I saw him wince, and he glanced over his shoulder. “... To keep watch.”

As he started to move away, I rolled to my knees and caught his arm lightly. He froze at my touch, and I dropped my hand shyly. Wringing my hands together in front of me.

“... Can you stay with me? ... H-here in bed?”

He seemed surprised, and I felt him hesitate again. I sat back on my ankles, rubbing at my arm with one hand. Waiting. After a long moment, he turned, heading over to the door. At first, my heart sank, disappointment spreading numbly through me. But then his big hand slowly pushed the door closed and slid the latch into place with a thunk. I saw his head turn, glancing over at me, hesitating. Then I heard the soft click of his buckles coming undone.

He stacked his armor on the table, then carefully took off his boots and stockings. His bare feet made hardly a whisper of sound as he quietly stalked over to the bed. Again, he paused, looking down at me. I scooched over, making space for him. After another moment of considering me, he slowly eased himself onto the mattress. Laying on his side, so we were face to face.

I searched for his eyes in the dark, barely able to make them out. I wondered if he could see me better; the darkness had never seemed to bother him much. It seemed like he was watching me. I smiled timidly, in case he was. I could feel his heat, and longed to roll closer. But feared scaring him off.

He shifted quietly, and I saw the shadow of his big hand move. Felt the backs of his fingers ever so hesitantly brush against the side of my face. I reached up my own hand, catching his as it passed. Bringing it to press more firmly against my cheek. I leaned into his touch, and I felt him slowly relax. Felt his hand turn until his palm cupped my face delicately. I closed my eyes, sighing softly.

“... I thought I’d lost you,” He confided in me, his deep voice almost thin with his words.

I opened my eyes again. He ran his thumb over my cheekbone, his fingers tracing back and forth along my jaw. I turned into his hand, brushing my lips lightly against his palm. Uncertain what to say but hoping the sentiment was clear enough. I felt his hand tighten slightly against me, and turned to plant another kiss on his big, meaty palm. I smiled shyly up at him through my lashes. His brow was scrunched, and I thought I saw his thick lips twitch.

“... She should never have found you. I should never have left you alone.”

I ran my thumb back and forth over his knuckles, not saying anything for a moment. I nuzzled my nose against his wrist, breathing in his musky scent. Relishing the thought that my bed would be thick with it after tonight. I was surprised to be thinking about such a thing. After everything that had happened today. But the feeling of his touch still sent me reeling. The sight of him had my heart racing. It made everything else seem so trivial.

“It doesn’t matter.” I murmured softly. And it didn’t.

He growled softly, and rolled closer. “It does matter. I should have kept you safe.”

I shook my head. “You’re here now.” I pressed my cheek deeper into his palm. “I’m safe with you.”

He grumbled, and I felt it rumbling through the mattress and air between us. I scooched closer myself, until my knees scraped against him. His free hand slowly came out, and I felt his fingertips smooth lightly over my hip. I rolled even closer, trying to encourage him. Longing for his touch, his warmth. To bury myself back against his chest. After a moment, he rested his big hand on my side, and I let my eyes close again, running my own hand across the bridge his arm made between us. Gently, he flexed his big muscles, and slid me closer.

“... I keep thinking I will scare you off.” He breathed, hardly above a whisper. His mouth was so close to me, he didn’t need to speak loudly to be heard.

I smiled again, kissing his wrist. “I keep thinking the same thing about you.”

He snorted, half in disbelief, half in amusement, and it made my grin grow by a few inches. His thumb rolled up and down my hip. I heard him shift, felt the bed creak. I didn’t jump as his lips brushed my forehead. I thought back over the day. Over everything that had happened, and everything I had learned. About his name. His reputation. What was it the red haired woman had said? ... A dangerous creature, that lover of yours... Was he really such a scary person to the rest of the world that he couldn’t believe I wouldn’t be scared as well? I remembered the way he had looked, when he had first barged into that warehouse. He had been terrifying… It hadn’t even seemed like him. Tell me, does the beastie have a heart?

I opened my eyes, looking at him. Studying the soft way his thick lips curled, the relaxed shape of his pronounced brow and thick eyebrows. The gentle depths of his deep blue eyes. This was Hans. Not that other orc everyone seemed to be scared of. Whatever else he was, this was how I knew him. This was who he was to me. Big. Soft. Kind and thoughtful. Tender and passionate. Does the beastie have a heart? How was that even a question? How could anyone who saw what I saw not simply know? Bar’tok’s words filtered to my consciousness next. For what it’s worth… The Boss is absolutely crazy about you. I traced my hand up his arm, over his shoulder. Cupping my tiny palm against his cheek. I felt my eyes glance down to his lips, before darting back up to meet his gaze. Be gentle with him…

He leaned down to meet me halfway as I stretched up to kiss him, curling his arm into the small of my back. Folding me against him tenderly. His mouth was hot against mine, but he was careful and delicate as he traced my lips with his. I melted into him, my heart fluttering in my chest, my breath catching in my throat. This was my Hans.

When we finally broke the kiss, we lay close, our noses almost touching. Breathing in the air the other breathed out. I studied him, watching those big blue eyes as they watched me. I ran my hand along the scruff on his jaw and buried it into the thick mane of hair at the base of his neck.

“... You won’t scare me away.” I murmured.

The soft rumbling chuff vibrated against me, and I smiled again. He titled his head, resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, giving a final, deep sigh. Letting the exhaustion of the day finally drag me down.

...

“It’s for the best, Boss…”

The familiar voice filtered through my sleep, and I rolled to my other side. I heard the rumbling grunt in answer, and felt the smile forming on my lips at the sound. I yawned, blinking blearily and shifting again. I reached out, but it was only me laying amid the mass of blankets and furs. I sat up slowly with another yawn, rubbing at my eyes. My headache and soreness had lessened, and I felt clearer headed as I stretched out my arms.

“I think you’re right, she needs to hear it. For her own safety.”

Bar’tok, I realized, and frowned at his words. A deep sigh was the next answer, and it tugged at my heartstrings to hear it. I rolled to the edge of the bed, easing my feet to the ground carefully.

The door was agape, and I could see the edge of Hans’ shoulder through the opening. He must be sitting on the stumps by the wall. I couldn’t see Bar’tok, but he must be nearby for me to hear his voice so clearly despite its low volume. I wondered for a moment what they were conversing about. It seemed early still, there was still a slight haze to the air in the yard and I could almost taste the dew. Would it be wrong of me to eavesdrop like this?

There was silence then, and I wondered if they were talking too softly for me to hear, or if there was just a natural lull in the conversation. I stood, tip toeing a little closer. It was my house, after all. If they didn’t want me to overhear something, they really shouldn’t be talking right outside my door. After another few moments, Hans gave a deep, affirmative grunt. As if he had made some decision.

“She deserves to know why Red Wren came after her.” Bar’tok agreed, and I could almost see him nodding.

I stiffened slightly, realizing the subject of their conversation. But it was too late to back out now. I could see Hans shifting, as if he had sensed me. I squared my shoulders, moving over to stand in the doorframe. His big head craned to the side to look up at me, his huge blue eyes seeming a bit forlorn, even set as they were into his customary deep scowl. As they lit on me, I saw his brow soften slightly, though his lips tightened. I looked over to Bar’tok, who straightened at the sight of me and offered me a bashful smile.

“G-Good morning, ma’am!” He stammered, looking sheepish as usual.

I glanced back at Hans, then at Bar’tok, then back again. Based upon the look they were both giving me, I knew exactly what they had been talking about. Exactly why the larger orc looked so reluctant.

Part of me thinks that maybe he’s happy you don’t know… Because you like him for who he really is… And you do like him, right?

Hans sighed again, and started to open his mouth. I raised my hand, cutting him off.

“You don’t have to tell me. I already know.” I said.

Both orcs’ eyes widened, and they exchanged a look. Bar’tok’s mouth even dropped open slightly.

“You… You know?”

I nodded at the younger orc. “Of course!” I turned back to Hans, crossing my arms over my chest. “...I would never have thought how competitive contract laborer work can be. It’s absolutely cutthroat!” The pair exchanged another look, eyes still wide. I waved one hand in the air. “It explains everything though; the way you’re busy for days at a time, the fact that you have to travel for work, the constant threat of your competitors…” I shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner.” I gave him a small smile. “Yours must be very successful, for that Red Wren lady to be willing to go to such extremes to knock you down. And why you were worried it might scare me.”

The orcs turned to each other, their faces blank, then back to me. Bar’tok opened his mouth, but at a growl from Hans, quickly closed it. He shuffled his feet, glancing over at his boss. Hans stared at me, looking me up and down slowly from head to toe. I smiled at him, unwrapping my arms to place my hands on my hips. After a long, extended moment, he gave a loud affirmative grunt. My smile grew, and I reached out and brushed my hand over his big shoulder fondly. His lips curled back into that soft shape I liked, and his eyes became a little doe-like.

“Excellent! Since that’s out of the way,” I turned to Bar’tok, “Are you here for breakfast?” The smaller orc looked surprised, then glanced over his shoulder. His sheepish grin returned as my gaze moved around the yard. My eyes widened at the sight of the destruction there. “By the gods!”

“... Wren.” Hans quickly grumbled by way of explanation, dropping his eyes as I turned back to him.

“Ah… Yeah, we think she was looking for something…” Bar’tok explained, clearing his throat. “The Boss called me in to help with the clean up.”

I put my hands back on my hips, considering the mess. “That’s very sweet of you to help! Definitely earns you an extra helping of eggs, I’d say. How about I get everything started, then I’ll come out to help you two?”

Hans grunted, slowly standing and shaking his head. He jerked his chin to the house as he stretched, and Bar’tok nodded his agreement.

“We can handle this, ma’am. No need to bother yourself with it.”

I sighed, shaking my head. Knowing better than to try and argue. “Well, I’ll put in an extra flourish for breakfast then, since I’ll have more time on my hands.”

I saw both orcs’ noses twitch in delight at the thought, and Bar’tok’s grin grew. “That sounds great, ma’am. Thank you much.”

The two quickly set about picking up the yard, and I went back into the house. A few short logs into the oven and I had it up to temperature to begin baking bread. I dug into the larder, fishing out cheese, butter, eggs, bacon, and even some apples from a bushel one of the customers had traded with me. I grabbed the small sack of flour, and quickly had some smooth batter whipped up.

A little while later, as the bacon sizzled, I moved over to the door. Popping my head out and looking around. Bar’tok was the closest, pouring several large buckets of fresh water into the righted trough. I smiled at him.

“I think we’ll have more space setting up the table outside.” I told him as he emptied the last bucket. “Could you carry it out for me?”

“Of course, ma’am. No sweat.”

He ducked to follow me into the house. He grabbed the benches first, taking one out under each arm. I didn’t mind that he accidentally whacked one into the frame of the door as we went. When he returned, I quickly scuttled over to the table and plucked up the pitcher.

“This is special.” I explained to him, cradling it with a smile in the nook of my arm.

Bar’tok hesitated, shuffling in place. “... Ma’am… now, it’s not my place…” Again he paused, taking a step closer to the table. Bending as if to pick it up. But he paused with his palms on the wood. “But… You know he’s not-”

“Breakfast will be ready soon,” I interrupted, turning back to the stove. “I hope the yard is almost set? If not, I think you’ve both more than earned a break.”

There was silence behind me, and I flipped the bacon out of the pan and replaced it with some more. It sizzled, filling the air with its juicy aroma. I felt his eyes on me, and eventually snuck a peek at him out of the corner of one. The younger orc seemed absolutely torn, chewing on the edge of his lip around his broken tusk. I sighed.

“I’ve decided I don’t need to know, Bar’tok.” I told him, pushing the bacon around with the fork. “And it makes him happy to pretend I don’t….” I smiled to myself, my face going soft. “And he makes me happy… so this will just be the secret we keep.”

When I turned back, the orc’s smile had split his face in two from ear to ear. He nodded, satisfied, and hoisted up the table as easily as if it were a sack of feathers. He shot me one more pleased, knowing look. I blushed, quickly busying myself with the final breakfast preparation.

Not long after, I brought plate after plate after plate of delicious goodies out to the table Bar’tok had set up in the cleared center. The pair had finished filling the pit for me, and the yard looked quite neat and tidy. As they washed up, I brought out the pancakes, fresh bread, bacon, apple crisp, eggs, cheese, and even some hot coffee. For the final piece, I carefully brought out the white and blue pitcher Hans had brought me. The flowers in it were wilted, but I didn’t mind, placing it in the center of the food like a crown jewel. I happily settled myself beside Hans on the bench, making sure our thighs touched, and watched the pair of orcs dig into the prepared food eagerly.

Under the table, Hans reached out, resting his big hand gently on my leg, and turned I smiled up at him. Watching his slate blue eyes soften as they fell on my face….

...

The End.

#monster x human #monster lover #monster boyfriend #terato #exophilia #orc #orc boyfriend #orc lover #slow burn #the secret we keep #update #oc #secondhand embarrassment #final chapter

[night-time-writing]

The Blind Date

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28687965

Summary: Natsuo and Hari are done with Toya and Kai being little shits, and set them up on a blind date. (Hero AU)

Word Count: 2729

Toya was not having a good day, and it just kept getting worse. It all started with a villain attack. The villain had a quirk that created grenades, which he was throwing around. The bigger the bomb, the longer it took to create. The villain had gotten a pretty good hit on Toya when he showed up at the scene, which hurt like hell. He then overused his own quirk while talking down the villain, which led to some nasty burns on top of his earlier injuries. Now he had to go to his doctor. The best in the business? Yes. The most annoying man to walk the earth? Double yes. 

When Dr. Chisaki walked into the room, Toya glared at him. Some nurses had already come in and given Toya some medication for the pain, what he could still feel was manageable enough. Toya had a pretty high pain tolerance thanks to his quirk, which burnt him when he used it too much. Because he was constantly burning himself, he got Dr. Chisaki as his doctor, who he had to see much more than he would like. 

Dr. Chisaki had a quirk that allowed him to deconstruct and reconstruct things. He used it to deconstruct Toyas damaged skin and then reconstruct it back to healthy skin. It was important because without Dr. Chisaki, he would have permanent burn scars and probably a good deal of near each damage. 

“Of course you are back here so soon. You never learn do you?” Dr. Chisaki said, setting his clipboard down and pulling off his gloves.

“It’s not like I can control it. You really think I wanna see your ugly ass face this early in the morning? Or ever?” Dr. Chisaki paused and gave Toya an unimpressed look.

“I saw your fight on TV. You were reckless, got hit, then panicked and used too much of your fire at once.”

“I didn’t panic.” Toya argued. “I did what I had to in order to keep the civilians safe.”

Dr. Chisaki scoffed as he washed his hands. “Like you actually care about civilians. You're just a spoiled rich boy who likes the attention that heroism gives you.”

This comment made Toya’s blood boil. Who did he think he was? Chisaki didn’t know the first thing about him. He was just another asshole who judged him based on who his family was.

“And you're a germophobic asshole who likes to tear people down in order to feel better about your sad pathetic existence.” 

They glared at each other for a moment. Then Dr. Chisaki reached out and touched Toya’s arm. Toya felt a flash of pain and then he was fine. He looked down and all the burns were gone, Toya wasn’t sure he would ever get used to that. 

Dr. Chisaki walked back to the sink to wash his hands once again. “We are all done here. You can leave.” 

Toya didn’t need to be told twice and he quickly matched out of the room. He signed all the necessary papers before heading to the pediatric floor in search of his brother.

Toya found his brother by the nurses station, seemingly waiting. It was Natsuo’s lunch break and he should have been eating. Toya suspected that he was waiting for him. Whenever Toya had to see Dr. Chisaki, he always went to find Natsuo afterwards. Natsuo would take a small break and Toya would rant and rave about the encounter. Chisaki never failed to piss Toya off. 

“If you want to rant, you're gonna have to buy me lunch first.” Natsuo said as he walked off towards the elevators. Toya laughed at his brother lightly. Toya knew the only reason he would be this grumpy and demanding is because he didn’t get enough coffee today.

…

Once they got to the closest restaurant to the hospital, Natsuo went to sit at the table, waiting to be able to order some coffee. Natsuo knew the coffee here wasn’t great. Yet it was loads better than the coffee at the hospital. Though, honestly, at this point he didn’t really care how it tasted, he just needed the caffeine. 

Natsuo had a full shift yesterday, then he was on call all night. He also had to go to a family dinner, which was always a nightmare. Toya, Enji, and Shoto got into a huge fight over nothing. Then Natsuo was called in at two in the morning because one of his kids got worse in the middle of the night. Then by the time they were stable again, it was time for his morning shift.

Natsuo was starting to get impatient for his coffee when Toya approached the table. He was followed closely by a waiter, carrying coffee. 

“You know me so well.” Natsuo joked as the coffee was placed in front of him.  

“It’s the least I could do, considering you always listen to my shit.”

Toya then began the same rant he always gave. His doctor was a jerk ... blah blah blah. He assumes he knows everything … blah blah blah. It was always the same rant, just a few slight details changed. The two always bickered and it always pissed Toya off. A small part of Natsuo felt like Toya liked his doctor and that’s why he acted the way he did. But truthfully, Natsuo just wanted Toya to date someone. Then Toya wouldn’t constantly complain to him about his problems.

By the time Natsuo made it back to work, he felt a bit better thanks to the coffee. However, he was still tired , and he wanted a permanent solution to his little brother problem.

“Your brother again?” Kurono asked. Kurono was a nurse who often worked with Natsuo. They had become friends over the time they worked together. They bonded over the fact that they both had people who went to the to complain all the time. For Kurono it was his childhood friend Kai,

“It’s always my brother. It’s the same thing every time. I just wish he had someone else to monopolize his time.”

“I know what you mean. I swear Kai hasn’t done anything but work since we met.” Kurono shook his head. Then all of a sudden his face lit up. “Here’s an idea, let’s kill two birds with one stone. What if we set up Kai with your brother? If they hit it off, we would both be free.” 

“Oh my god, that would be amazing. Do you think Kai will go for it? I know I can get Toya to at least sit through a whole first date.” 

“I can get him to agree to stay through the dinner. I have a lot to hold over him.”

…

Toya was not excited for dinner. Natsuo was able to convince him to go on another blind date. Well actually he threatened to volunteer him for all family functions if he didn’t at least go through the whole date. Natsuo often set Toya up on dates. However, they were usually so horrible that Toya no longer sat through the whole thing. Toya doubted that Natsuo’s taste had gotten any better, but he didn’t want to deal with his family any more than he already had to.

On his way to the restaurant, Toya saw a guy trying to rob a poor couple. He was able to take the guy down pretty easily so he didn’t burn up his skin or his clothes. However, he was now running late. He hoped that Natsuo wouldn’t consider being late as him trying to get out of the date.

Toya pushed open the restaurant doors, walking up to the hostess. “Reservation for Todoroki.” 

She looked down for a second before smiling back up at him. “Right this way. The rest of your party is already here.”

As they walked through the restaurant Toya saw a man sitting at a table alone. The man was looking away from him, out the window. He had a glass of wine and no food, like he was waiting for someone. It then occurred to Toya that this was probably his date. Toya then really looked at him. The man's hair was brown and actually brushed, which was already a step up from the last date he had. He also appeared to be dressed nicely from what he could see. He had a nice white button up on, and it didn’t look like it was even wrinkled.

However, as they approached the table that the man sat at, Toya noticed something. The man was wearing white gloves, very familiar white gloves, worn by none other than Dr. Chisaki. For a moment he considered turning around and walking out of the restaurant. Then he remembered how much time he would have to spend with his father if he left. Begrudgingly he continued to walk towards the table.

Once they were by the table, the girl motioned towards the table before walking off. Chisaki then looked over at Toya as he sat down. As Toya looked at Chisaki, whose face was filled with shock and a bit of disgust, it occurred to Toya that he might not be able to leave, but Chisaki could. Considering how nether like that the other, it shouldn’t take long, though it was surprising that Chisaki hadn’t already gotten up and left.

“Well at least you're an improvement from the last guy my brother set me up with. He was unemployed, and he definitely hadn’t showered for at least a week. Whereas you're a doctor, and you clean up quite nicely.”

Chisaki rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to deal with you antics tonight Todoroki. So, let’s just be quiet, get some food, and then leave.”

Toya watched Chisaki lift his glass of wine and take a sip. Toya furrowed his brow, who does this guy think he is? “What antics? I was being nice.”

 “You were being condescending.” Chisaki set his glass down and glared at Toya. “You're a rich spoiled brat who looks down on everyone around you, just like the rest of your family.”

“You know what? You are just another douchebag who compares me to my father. I am not my father.” Toya could feel his anger rising. He knew this could come back to bite him in the ass, but, at the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Chisaki struck the wrong cord. 

“I’m not comparing you to your father, you are your own person. I was just saying that you're a spoiled rich asshole. These things aren’t necessarily synonymous. As a matter of fact, your father worked for the money, you just inherited it.” Chisaki looked honestly confused by Toya’s outburst.

Toya paused, his anger waging just a bit. “Then what are your thoughts on Endeavor?” Here was the true test of the night. 

Chisaki rolled his eyes. “He is an entitled asshole who believes the world revolves around him. He is also okay with walking all over people and pushing them down to get to where he wants to go.”

Toya’s anger was gone as he smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps Natsuo really didn’t choose horribly.” Toya chuckled. 

Chisaki looked even more confused now. Honestly Toya liked him a lot more now. He highly doubted that they were going to date like Natsuo wanted. Or even become friends for that matter, afterall, Chisaki still hated him. However, he now found Chisaki’s company more enjoyable now that he knew that Chisaki didn’t like his father, or compare Toya to his father like everyone else seemed to.

That’s when the waiter made his way over to the table and took their order. Toya didn’t even need to look at the menu. This was the same place Natsuo always set up Toya’s bind dates. Chisaki on the other hand, carefully perused the menu before picking what he wanted to eat. 

Once the waiter was gone Toya smiled at Chisaki. “Tell me again, what are all the reasons you hate Endeavor? Please don't leave anything out.” Toya leaned forward, resting his head in his hand.

“First of all, I don't just hate Endeavor. I hate most hero’s, they tend to think they are better than the general populace. They also tend to only care about their ranking, above the people they are supposed to be saving. And I definitely don't like spoiled rich boys who only got to where they are because of their parents.”

The last point was definitely supposed to be a jab at Toya, especially with the pointed look Chisaki sent his way. However, it just caused him to laugh at Chisaki.

“What’s so funny?” Chisaki demanded more than asked. He was clearly reaching the end of his patience. 

“For someone who thinks they are so smart, you really don't know anything. It's funny to me that you think my father has anything to do with where I am now.”

Chisaki gave Toya an unimpressed look.

“Sure, when I was younger he trained me, wanted me to become the number one hero pro hero. But, once Shoto was born, he didn't care anymore. The only person in my family that my father cares about other than himself is Shoto. I got to where I am by working my ass off. If you look into my history, you'll see that I have never once worked with or for Endeavor.”

Chisaki pulled out his phone and begane typing. There were plenty of databases and websites that looked at who every pro hero has worked with and studied under. Toya knew the moment that Chisaki finished looking at the information on Toya. Chisaki looked at Toya, decently shocked and impressed. 

“Do you still use your fathers money?”

“Nope. The minute I could, I distanced myself from my father. Though I do still have to go to family outings. But, it is fun to try and piss him off during them.”

Chisaki smiled and shook his head at Toya. Chisaki relaxed and looked like he too was beginning to actually enjoy himself.

The waiter then came to their table and dropped off their food. Their conversation then moved from work to their interests and stopped being as antagonistic. 

After they finished eating, they paid and went to leave, only to find out that they both walked to the restaurant. As it turned out that both lived near the restaurant and decently near each other, to the point where they walked the same direction. So, they decided to walk together.

Once they reached the spit off point Toya stopped Chisaki. “You know, if you don't still hate me, you could come and be my date to a family dinner next Sunday. Then we could piss Endeavor off. It would be great.”

“Don't you think we should go on more dates before I meet your family?”

“Is this you telling me you want to go out again?” Toya smirked.

Chisiki shrugged before holding out his hand. “Give me your phone.” Toya complied. “This is my number. Give me a call and we can discuss a second date.” Chisaki then turned and walked down the street.

Toya found himself smiling the rest of the way home. For once, he had really enjoyed his blind date.

Bonus:

Toya collapsed on the ground. He had spent all day hauling boxes into his new shared apartment. Now Kai expected him to unpack? He was exhausted.

“You’re so lazy.” Kai complained kicking Toya’s foot.

“You know, that first date we had. I had almost walked out the minute I saw you. The only reason I didn’t was because Natsuo said that if I left another date early he would volunteer me for all the family get togethers.” He said, cranking  his head to look at his boyfriend, who was just laughing at him.

“I almost left when you showed up at the table, but Hari said that if I left early or didn’t show up then he would make sure I got the worst nurse for the next three months. I decided I hate her more than I hated you.”

They were both laughing now. To think, if it weren’t for the fact that they had both managed to piss off the two people who mattered the most to them. Who also just so happened to know each other. Then they would have never gotten together.

Request for Anonymous

#bnha #mha #bnha dabi #overhaul #kai chisaki #natsuo todoroki #chronostasis #dabihaul #dabi is a todoroki #touya todoroki #hero au #hero dabi #doctor overhaul

[mae-gi-writes]

Deobi Playlist (EP 6) | The Boyz Imagine

Ep 6: in which Hyunjae’s mom sets him up.

he Boyz x Hospital Playlist inspired drabble series.

Main Characters: Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin and OC (Mae)

Sides: the rest of The Boyz.

Genre: fluff, slice of life, comedy, BROMANCE BRUH

EP 1 | EP 2 | EP 3 | EP 4 | EP 5 | EP 6 | EP 7 | EP 8 | EP 9 | EP 10 | EP 11

---------

“Tonight at six. Don’t be late.” 

“Ma,” Hyunjae lets out a tired sigh, ruffling his locks in the process, “I’m really not interested and I--”

“You’re almost thirty! You should be getting married by now!” 

“Ma, blind dates don’t help people get together. It’s just a lousy way for singles to mingle.” 

“Exactly why you should go.” 

“Ma.” 

“Please, Hyunjae? She’s such a good girl. I met her and her mother for tea yesterday and her mother seems so keen to get her daughter married off to an honourable man! Now, I don’t know about honourable, but you’re funny. Surely, you can charm her socks off?” 

“Ma look, I--” Hyunjae frowns upon realizing what his mother is saying, “hey, excuse me? I am so honorable! But anyway, that’s besides the point. I’m not interested--I said I’m not--Hello? HELLO?!” 

Pulling the phone away, he is faced with a blank screen. 

“OH MY GOD!” his nostrils flare, “she just hung up! ON ME!” 

“I can hear you just fine,” comes Juyeon’s mumble from his respective desk. 

Hyunjae swivels around with a look of growing horror at the fact that this time, there’s no getting out of the mess that his mother has just put him in, “I’m almost thirty, and my mother decides that it’s the greatest idea to set me up like I can’t get my life together. Can you believe that?! The outrage?!”

“You don’t have your life together,” Juyeon is quick to point out.

“Juyeon, I really don’t need your sass right now.” 

“So are you? Going to that blind date?” Juyeon asks, a smirk curving his lips upwards as Hyunjae lets out a loud, insufferable sigh like the world has collapsed onto his shoulders, “Do I have a choice?” 

“I guess you don’t.” 

“I guess I don’t.” 

-------

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

It’s only the first date and Hyunjae is already late. Not that he cares, not really. Except that this girl will probably go tattle to her mother about his tardiness, which will then prompt his own mother to give him another earful about not being the perfect gentleman that she has raised him to be. 

It is with that particular train of thought that he practically bursts through the cafe called ‘Yours Truly’. Truly boring, in his personal opinion. Trying his best to swallow mouthfuls of air, scanning the room and walking in until he notices a lone woman, seemingly bored and looking out of the window as though there are other things preoccupying her mind. 

He approaches reluctantly, “Er--Are you Do Sarang?” 

The woman’s face swivels to face him. He has to admit, right there and then, that she’s not all bad looking.

“Yes,” she says slowly, as if she’s gauging his personality, “you’re Lee Jaehyun?” 

He extends a hand, “call me Hyujae. That’s the name I go by, most of the time.” 

She nods, and he barely has time to settle himself into his seat when she tells him, “so what excuse do you want to tell your mother?”

He blinks at her, ‘huh?” 

“You can say I’m boring. I only read books as a hobby and I love baking in my spare time, except I burn the kitchen. You think that’s bad enough? Or maybe tell her I have bad breath or something,” she keeps up the stream of babble with so much gusto that he can barely keep up. His mind churns the words inside his head, before reality suddenly kicks in.

“Wait--” he raises a hand to stop her, “you mean, you’re trying to find ways to sabotage this?” 

“Of course I am. Why? Were you actually--” cupping her hand over her mouth then, her eyes widen in shock, “Oh no, were you actually genuinely interested? Oh my gosh, I am--”

“NO!” He hollers a little too loudly that causes a few glances to glare daggers in his direction. Flashing a guilty smile while scrunching his shoulders up, he lowers his voice and continues, “no, I mean of course I’m not interested in blind dating. I just--I wasn’t sure.” 

“Okay great. Just so that we’re on the same page.” 

“Er--Sure.” 

“Cool. What shall I say about you? That you sweat a lot? Or you have AIDS? Or--” 

“I do not have AIDS,” Hyunjae quickly rectifies. 

Sarang laughs. She does have a nice laugh, he thinks to himself as she says, “you don’t seem like the type to have AIDS.” “Just tell your mom that I’m too noisy and talk too much. Or that I--er-- that I’m just too quiet. Too bland. Boring. You don’t like that.” 

“Okay, deal.” 

“Deal,” it’s at this particular moment that his stomach growls, causing Sarang’s lips to curl up in amusement. Hyunjae bites the inside of his cheek as he tries to restrain his own grin. He looks down for a moment, before finally meeting her eyes once more. 

“So...since we’re already here. Do you want to grab lunch?” 

-------

“So how did your date go?” Mae asks. 

A few days have gone by since Hyunjae’s supposed blind date, much to Mae’s excitement. Considering that she had been one of the potential candidates that the former’s mother had already listed down, she was glad that Mrs. Lee is finally opening up her horizons and allowing more women to enter Hyunjae’s life. Not that he needs any help at all, considering that he’s always been a charmer with the ladies. 

To celebrate, she had all asked them to gather at the local snack they usually frequent -- a habit from their earlier college days that seemed to have stuck -- and had ordered an array of pork belly, raw beef and chicken strips for the occasion. Radishes and Kimchi plates littered their entire table and servings of raw pieces of lettuce were left still untouched as they waited impatiently for the meat to cook through. 

Hyunjae has also noticed how she tries her best to stay as far away as it’s physically possible from Kevin, and while it might not appear that the latter is ruffled by her actions, Hyunjae has known the said man for too long not to notice the flash of hurt flickering across his face.

“She’s actually really cool,” Hyunjae says upon realizing that he still hasn’t answered her question, “she isn’t interested in blind dating either. So we’re both just finding excuses to please the mothers.” 

“Wait, but--” Juyeon frowns, “you just said she’s cool. Why not just hang out with her?” “Because that would just mean that my mother was right, and I’m not giving her the satisfaction.” 

“What an idiot,” Juyeon mutters behind his glass of soju and Hyunjae scowls at him, “piss off, lover boy.” 

“Alright alright, everybody calm down. I have meat,” Mae interrupts them by placing the grilled pieces onto their plates. As she does so, her arm brushes against Kevin’s shoulder, and she jumps back as though she just got burnt. 

“S-Sorry,” she mumbles out. It doesn’t take an expert to notice the fact that she’s blushing. 

Hyunjae clears his throat as a way to distract them from the sudden atmosphere, sending Kevin a pointed look across the table while a mindless Juyeon digs in without hesitation.

“How’s your relationship going, Juyeon?” Mae says a little too loudly, an obvious attempt to divert the attention. 

“It’s going great. We--We really understand each other,” Juyeon says with a small, hesitant smile like he’s trying to hide his happiness. 

“You are so whipped,” Hyunjae singsongs.

“At least my mother doesn’t have to set me up,” Juyeon shoots back.

“OOOH,” echo Mae and Kevin, who accidentally catch each other’s eyes before looking away. Though they’re not fast enough, causing Juyeon to blurt out, “What is going on between you two?” 

“NOTHING!” Both screech at the same time before shooting each other weird looks. 

“Sure doesn’t seem like it though,” Juyeon mutters loud enough for them to hear, while Hyunjae grabs the meat off his plate and stuffs it in his mouth. 

“Speaking of relationships,” Hyunjae continues when Mae hands over the tongs. He puts some fresh meat on the grill, passes some condiments down to Kevin and Juyeon, “Mae, does Changmin not know what boundaries are?” 

“What?” Kevin’s head snapped to attention at the same time that Juyeon said, “what happened with Changmin?” 

“Nothing happened with Changmin,” Mae shoots Hyunjae a look, “stop hyping them up like that.” 

“Oh yeah? Cause you guys were getting pretty friendly when I spotted you in the elevator.” 

“He was trying to untangle my staff card, you dumbass,” she replies through a mouthful of lettuce and pork. Gulping it down, she continues, “stop making the situation something that it’s not. Also, what the fudge were you doing in the Cancer Ward?”

“He was practically breathing the same air as you! How am I supposed to interpret that?!” 

“What? In the elevator? When?” Kevin’s eyes snap right to left in confusion.

“It’s nothing!” Mae answers with flushed cheeks and unable to meet his eyes, “it’s really nothing! And Hyunjae, stop inventing stuff!” 

“I am not! He was so close to you I would have socked him one if I--”

He gets cut off by Juyeon stuffing a roll of lettuce-wrapped meat into his mouth, his words finishing in a gargle as he scowls at Mae with his cheeks still puffed like a sullen child. Mae leans back in her seat, wishing that the ground would swallow her up just so that she does not have to look at Kevin’s face ever again. 

It’s bad enough that she knows he has a crush on her, bad enough that she secretly harbours the same feelings and isn’t sure how to express them. Adding Changmin to the mix will only provoke him and create a havoc of misunderstandings that she really does not wish to get into right now, and Hyunjae’s big ass mouth is not helping.

She waits until Kevin and Juyeon go off their separate ways with an excuse that she’s riding with Hyunjae this time, for he’s going back for his night shift at the hospital. As soon as she gets into his car and slams the door closed, Mae proceeds to whack him across the back of his head.

“Ouch, Jesus woman,” Hyunjae rubs at the sore spot with a grimace, “what was that for?”

“You idiot,” Mae hisses, “why in the world are you talking about Changmin in front of Kevin? You know how insecure he gets!” 

“Relax Mae. I was doing that to rile him up for you.” “Well don’t. I don’t like it.” 

“Hey, I have good intentions okay? Next thing you know, he’s probably going to get off his lazy ass and confess,“ he stops at a red light and cups his face with his hands in a dramatic pout, “and who are you going to thank when that happens?” 

“You’re not getting any credit for that.” 

“You’re so mean.” 

They finally pull up to the Hospital main entrance, before the man nods at her, “go on. I’ll go find a parking spot.” 

“Do I have to say thank you even though I’m pissed at you?” Mae asks, grudgingly picking up her bag. 

“Do you want me to tell my mother how mannerless you are?” he pauses, “actually, maybe that’ll stop her from marrying us off.” 

Despite their earlier argument, a smile creeps up her lips before exploding into a full-out grin. She salutes him, “see you on the other side.” 

“You’re talking as if we’re going to die.” 

“We might as well die, if we don’t save our patients.” 

“Wise words Mae,” he calls out as she walks away, and then chuckles when she sticks her arm out in a back-handed wave.

--------

I gotta say that Mae and Hyunjae’s interactions make me go AHDFH sometimes cause they fight like siblings and it’s the cutest thing. Who agrees with me? 

NEXT EP WILL BE OUT ON MONDAY! 

Tagging: @juyeonzz​ because she is the sweetest thing :,) 

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tagging list! Otherwise, don’t forget to turn on notifications for my Tumblr so that you don’t miss out on Deobi Playlist! ^^ 

#deobi playlist #tbznetwork #deobiwritersnet #theboyz au #theboyz fanfic #theboyz scenarios #theboyz #theboyz imagine #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz fanfic #the boyz au #the boyz scenarios #the boyz hyunjae #hyunjae #hyunjae fanfic #hyunjae imagines #the boyz drabbles #the boyz soft hours #kevin moon #kevin moon scenarios #kevin moon imagines #juyeon #the boyz juyeon #tbz imagines #juyeon imagines #juyeon drabbles #hospital playlist #hospital au #kpop fanfiction

[pandastern]

Gravity (Bakugo x OC)

Part 4: Different Convictions (past)

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 2433

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected.

“Fuck…”

Artemis sat in the courtyard at the back of the school, her arms dipped into the cool water of the decorative fountain UA had built to make the space more… decorative.

The cool water soothed the growing ache in her body. Her arms and hands, in particular, hurt from the overuse of her quirk. Artemis sighed deeply. In her head, the fight played again and again. She had lost control. She had become so close to breaking the rules she had given herself. Disgust spread through her gut until she felt like she had to gag.

No, she couldn't let that happen ever again. 

“Artemis?” The low, rumbling voice of her homeroom teacher made her flinch.

“Mr Aizawa.” She sighed and shook her head, dunking her arms deeper into the cold water.

Aizawa narrowed his eyes at his new student. He could clearly see the burns on her skin. “So...are you just going to sit there, sulking like a child, or are you going to tell me what happened there?” he said, sighing deeply, his lazy drawl making his voice deeper. “If your arms are burned, you need to see Recovery Girl.”

“No, I'm fucking fine. I don’t need help, thank you very much. Leave me alone,” Artemis hissed through gritted teeth.

“Ah, I see,” Aizawa replied dryly. “It's practically normal to forcefully rip out a whole school’s water supply in mere seconds.”

Sitting down next to her, he crossed his arms and gave Artemis a stern look. Her eyes flickered up to him, a myriad of emotions passing through those green orbs. Suspicion, anger, fear… He had seen these kinds of eyes before.

“Miss Moon, I’m giving you one last chance to tell me. I won’t ask again.”

Her jaw clenched. Aizawa kept his unflinching eyes on her, studying every movement. Finally, she let out a ragged breath.

“Yeah well… I got angry. I lost control. Shit happens!” she growled, evading his gaze. “Are you going to expel me? Give me detention?”

Her last words sounded more like a challenge than anything else. So much defiance in such a small body.

“No. Here at UA, we dont expel students for accidents,” Aizawa responded. “The principal won’t be pleased and the school will be without water for a while, but what is the city’s tax money is for.”

With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a can of iced coffee from one of his pouches, opening it casually and taking a sip.

“In any case, it wasn’t just a one way attack. Rest assured that Bakugou will be reprimanded for his reckless behavior, as well. Whether you like it or not, if you want to be a hero, you will have to learn how to work and rely on others, even If you don’t see eye-to-eye with them.”

“Eye-to-eye? Sure, that’ll happen.” Artemis scoffed and looked up at him. “Relying on others... Funny you should say that considering you prefer to work alone, Eraserhead.”

Ah. So she had done her research before coming to this place. 

“Regardless, I am able to work with my colleagues seamlessly should the need arise. A hero has to be able to do both. If you can’t, you die. Simple as that.”

Aizawa could clearly tell that this stubborn girl in front of him wouldn’t crack. Not now, anyway. He sensed that there was something lingering under the surface of those deep green eyes that were way too old to belong to a 15 year old girl. He sighed.

“In any case, I would prefer that an incident like this does not happen again. The paperwork is horrendous. Am I understood, Miss Moon?”

Artemis swallowed and nodded. Shadows passed through her eyes, as if she’d just evaded grave danger. “Yes, sir. Sorry… about the pipes.”

Aizawa nodded and got up with a groan. “All right. Get yourself cleaned up and go home. Tomorrow won’t be any easier.”

As he walked away, he couldn't help but shake his head. There was something so strange about this girl, but he couldn't put his finger on it yet. He would have to keep his eyes on her in the future. For now, though, he had to prepare the rescue training trip the school had planned for his class for tomorrow.

Artemis sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. The sensation of the shaved side of her head still felt so incredibly unfamiliar to her. After her fight with Bakugou, she’d tried to save what was left, but she’d ended up having to finally admit to herself that the only thing she could do was shave off the burnt hair and give herself an undercut. 

Class 1A was currently boarding a bus to an external training facility. The flame-haired girl watched as their class rep Iida ushered every single student into the vehicle with ridiculous hand gestures while continuously blowing into his coach whistle like a caricature of a flight attendant. Artemis couldn't help but roll her eyes. It wasn’t that Iida was a bad person - in fact, he was as straight cut as a hero could be - but the boy was so much of a stickler it was tiring. 

When it was her turn to board, she let herself fall into the seat next to Kaminari and Sero and stared out of the window. She’d managed to lose herself in thought, when the scent of burnt sugar and nitroglycerin suddenly flooded her senses. Great.

“Heh, nice hair cut,water hazard,” came the smug, taunting voice of Bakugou Katsuki.

A quiet groan escaped her lips and she looked up. Crimson eyes stared down at her in a silent challenge. Hadn’t he had enough already?

“Ah, what a glorious day for you to remind everyone what a giant piece of shit you are. Congratulations, boom boom boy,” she replied with the sweetest smile she could muster. “Don’t worry, we know! No need to prove yourself.”

If looks could kill, she would have been dead this instant.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. Artemis would have thought that getting almost shot in the face should have been enough to deter him from any further attempts to get a rise out of her. Seemed like she was wrong, though she’d be lying if she said she was disappointed.

“Tch. You little… I'm gonna kick your ass!” Bakugou spat.

“Oh, really?” Artemis chuckled. “That’s funny, considering that I wiped the fucking floor with your sorry ass yesterday.”

Ah, there it was. The blood vessel at Bakugou’s temple. Artemis couldn't help but smirk.

“You just got fucking lucky! Next time I’m gonna break you in half, trust me,” the ash blonde growled with gleaming eyes.

“Move along. No fighting on the bus. And hurry, we don’t have all day.” Aizawa’s voice cut through the tension before Artemis could retort.

As Mr Anger Issues walked along, grumbling something under his breath, Artemis rolled her eyes again. She really wasn’t in the mood for this today.

“God, I hope this guy gets diarrhoea for the rest of his goddamn life,” she muttered, directing her gaze towards the window again.

A snort next to her caught her attention. Kaminari gave her a mischievous wink and nudged her and Sero in a conspiring way

“You mean… explosive diarrhoea?” he snickered.

The image of that cracked Artemis up. “Well, as a quirk, it would suit him even better.”

“Ahem!” Aizawa’s warning voice cut them off.

“S-sorry, sir…” Kaminari muttered and scratched the back of his head.

Artemis sighed. There were a few things that she’d have liked to say, but she knew that Aizawa would be so quick to get on her back that it wasn’t worth it. At least at this moment.

“So, rescue training, huh?” Sero started in an attempt to change the subject. “I’m pretty sure they’re gonna divide us into teams again, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I think so, too. Artemis, you haven’t been in our other training sessions. Are you excited?” Denki asked, giving her a flirty wink.

Artemis chuckled softly. “Well…” She considered how best to word her response. “I’m… curious to see how it’s gonna work. Teamwork is always a challenge. It depends on who you’re in a group with, and who you’re up against.”

“That's true. Personally I’d rather not get paired up with Bakugou or Todoroki,” Sero said with a sigh.

“Ungh, yes,” Denki chimed in. “Don’t get me wrong, they are super hard hitters. But Bakugou is, well, Bakugo, and Todoroki freezes your ass If you're not useful. Bet you I’m gonna end up with one of them.”

That made artemis perk up. “Freeze you? So, ice powers… That is interesting. If I were paired up with him, I could most likely use his quirk as ammunition,” she said more to herself than to the boys next to her.

“I wouldn’t press my luck if I were you. He’s… not a team player. If you're not up to his standard and deemed useless, he’s gonna consider you dead weight and take you out,” Sero said, scratching the back of his head.

“Well, I’m not good at many things, but I certainly ain’t useless in a fight,” Artemis scoffed. “Though I do share his sentiment. Someone who can’t pull their weight in a fight is a liability. Taking them out of the equation is the easiest way to ensure success.”

“Damn, that’s… kinda badass?” Denki said a little nervously. “I didn't pick you for a solo player…”

Artemis shifted in her seat so she could face the boys next to her better. She could clearly see the naive sentiment in their eyes. Usually, the wide-eyed believed that teamwork made the dream work and everything was gonna be all right with ‘friendship’. Not exactly something she could ever understand.

“It’s not badass, it’s common sense,” she said, crossing her arms. “I’m not dying just because someone can’t pull their own weight. The mere wish of wanting to help without the skill to do so does more harm than good. So, best to get out of the way and let those who actually don’t mind getting their hands dirty do the work. This isn’t a game. You either fight and win, or you die. And a dead soldier is a useless soldier. Simple as that.”

That she even had to spell that out to a group of people who were set on becoming the future heroes of tomorrow made her blood boil. The oh-so-familiar steel inside her soul stiffened her posture and she sighed.

“Heroes nowadays spouting about teamwork and ‘oh, happy friends, let’s work together to create a dream’ is utter nonsense, if you ask me. It’s too easy to forget that this isn’t a popularity game. It’s a job. A job that can cost lives if it isn’t done right. No-one gives a fuck about how popular you are if you can’t do your job. Teamwork is only sensible if it’s beneficial for every party involved. It has to be result-oriented. Teamwork just for the sake of teamwork is stupid.”

Artemis ran a hand through her hair and directed her gaze out of the window again.

“That’s why I prefer to work alone. I know my abilities and I know myself. It’s nothing personal.”

The sudden uncomfortable silence that spread around her was something Artemis had not expected. Had she said something wrong? Looking back at Kaminari and Sero, she frowned. Both of them stared at her with their mouths slightly agape.

“What?” Artemis asked, confused. “Why are you both looking at me like I kicked a puppy in the face?”

“Dude,” Kaminari began, clearing his throat. “That’s… kinda harsh? Is that how you work over there in Europe?”

“Yeah… I mean, we are classmates. We gotta stick together. Who can we rely on if not on our friends?” Sero asked.

Artemis sighed again. “That's exactly what I meant. Yes, we’re classmates, but what does that really mean? Teaming up should essentially be dependent on the skills of each party that can work together to accomplish a goal. Whether you’re classmates or not has no part in it. For educational purposes, it might make sense, but in the real world, teaming up just for convenience will most likely turn deadly.”

“Sounds to me like you’re either scared shitless and don’t trust anyone, or you think you’re better than everyone else and arrogant enough to believe no-one can match you,” Bakugou interjected with a nasty smirk from his seat down the bus.

Artemis’s eyes narrowed at the angry blonde. He wasn’t as thick-headed as she’d thought in the beginning. It seemed that he was not only an excellent fighter, but also very perceptive. A dangerous combination. 

“Big talk coming from you, Mr I’m-Better-Than-You,” Artemis purred, leaning forward and focusing her eyes on him like a predator on its prey. “You pretend to be hot shit every day, Katsuki Bakugou, but what can you do exactly? Be loud and do more damage than necessary? My guess is you're overcompensating because you know you ain’t shit.”

“Tch, as if. Don’t act like you know anything about me, you sorry excuse of a squirt gun,” he spat and turned away in his seat.

Something told Artemis that she had hit the target quite well.

The bus came to a halt, and the conversations of the class became louder as a big glass dome came into view. Aizawa rose from his seat.

“All right, class, quiet down. I’m not gonna say it again.” He crossed his arms. “The pro hero Thirteen is gonna wait for you inside. I am expecting you to be on your best behaviour. I will not tolerate any stupidity, or I will make you all train after class ‘till you drop. Is that clear?”

The students hummed in agreement and started to get off the bus.

Aizawa’s dark eyes fell on the newest addition to his class. What he’d overheard her say on the bus ride made him feel slightly uneasy. While she had made some sensible points, her apathy concerning teammates and the people around her was concerning. It was a dangerous, slippery path that could easily go in the wrong direction. He would have to have a conversation with her about that, but something told Aizawa he’d have to be smart about it. Artemis had so many walls up, she may as well have been a high security prison.

He wondered what kind of life this child had lived up to that point that could possibly have made her that way.

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugoxreader #bakugou x oc #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo #bakugou #mha x oc #mha fic #bnha fic #gravity

[littlecountrymouse]

To all my lovely friends who have been asking how I'm doing lately and wondering why I've kinda dropped off the face of the Earth recently - the image above is a screenshot off my State's emergency warning app. (For those of you who don't know, I'm Australian.) All the black shaded sections? Those are fires. The little white circle with the binoculars? That's my house. We haven't seen clear sky in 3 weeks, and everything reeks of smoke. What remained of my grass has burnt off from the radiant heat we were subjected to last Saturday, and I'm spending a damned fortune buying extra horse feed. Our diesel has jumped in price to 3 dollars AUD a litre and you cant get more than 30 litres because they can't get a truck in for civilians. All fuel ans food in our district is prioritised towards our Firefighters and the Army. We can't do normal grocery shopping because all the roads are closed in and out of my town unless you're evacuating, my power keeps going out and the phone service is spotty at best.

4 firefighters have now died in these fires, one yesterday who works for the same government department as my husband. This is the biggest hit to our emergency firefighters we've had since Nick started in 2012, and it does worry me because as he moves up the ranks, he's taken on far more responsibility and more risk. I rarely see him, we're supposed to be moving into our own (rented) house in 2 weeks but I have nobody to help me shift all our gear and animals as well as set the place up, and honestly the house is 40km closer to our largest fire so moving there is worrying me. My parents are driving me nuts, (Mum is ... odd, to say the least, and the fires are feeding her love for drama, and Dad just rolls over and lets her be demented,) and the horse float needs about 1000 bucks to tidy it up so I can move my babies in it.

I'm also finishing off my Bachelor's degree (finally, thank fuck,) and have enrolled to do my Master's in Social Work because this little idiot has decided that she really likes working with foster kids. (Should have seen that one coming, really.) So there's another 2 years or so of study, but at least eventually I can get a decent job here.

And to top it all off, my husband is owed a literal fortune by the government department he works for, because there's so many firefighters working within the state that there's a massive backlog in HR. So when they eventually pay him it'll look really nice on paper but we'll lose a shit ton to tax, and until then we're just scraping along on less than minimum wage.

It is safe to say that I need a damn holiday, but I love you all and I am so warmed by all the kind questions, as well as the massive amount of support I see for our country, but I'm also more shit than usual at remembering to reply.

Thank you guys, will try to return to normal posting and writing again soon.

#Australia #fires #personal

[pbandjesse]

My allergies just got really bad all of a sudden and my sun burn hurts to much to put a shirt on? Why?? I was fine all day! What is up.

Today was a pretty excellent day though! I slept pretty well. James got home last night (after I did not go to bed early) and we stayed up to late. It has been really hard not having any time together because the resturant just keeps scheduling him only for dinner shifts. It sucks. I dont understand why they wont give him some lunch shifts so we can at least have the couple hours before bed but no. Only dinner. So we get nothing. At least were going to have saturday off together. 

I felt pretty good when I woke up. I stretched and got dressed. My skin hurt but it was much less red. So I wore this dress and I was like this will be fine. And it mostly was but the straps started to hurt me and people were asking me if I was okay so it must have looked bad. 

And honestly once I got to work after a weirdly traffic filled drive, Ellen (one of the life guards) pointed out the sunburn because we all dunk on whoever gets burnt. And then she poked fun because she said she thought to herself yesterday when me and CJ were sitting in the grass that having the two PALEST GIRLS at camp in the sun was a recipe for disaster. That made me laugh. Its totally true though. Bad plan. 

It was a nice morning. I helped clean up some dead birds. I was a hero. And then I found a moth. And while I was up at the art shack setting up I get a call from Heather asking if I could go on a hike with one of the groups. I was a little nervous but I said yes and it was great. 

It was with Jenna and one of the older groups. And it was fun! I got to experience some camp lore. We went on a pretty easy hike to this funny growing tree. At camp there are mythical creatures called the little people and this is there tree. And so all around the tree are tiny forts the kids have built and there are letters that the kids write to the little people. You have to speak softly and be kind or they will come and steal your left shoe in your sleep. And these kids were telling me this story and it was just so cute. I love new american folk lore and specifically camp and kid culture so this was such a fun moment. 

Me and Jenna sat and talked while the kids built the forts and fixed older ones. I helped make this little shrine for one of the younger kids to find. And then one of the boys, who was like 11 or 12, came over to ask me in earnest if the little people were real. "You can tell me." And so I told him about how since lots of cultures have stories of little people, over time and geography, I would say its most likely that there is something there. He seemed satisfied with that answer. 

I had some time after that to set up. To chill. To have lunch. I went to the office to heat something up and honestly had to bounce ASAP because someone was on the porch just being obnoxiously loud about a group chat on their phone. It was. To much. 

So I went back to the art building and got ready for my classes. And they were just excellent. I was teaching embroidery all day and out of almost 30 kids I only had one who acted really shitty. Everyone else was sweet and cool and excited to learn a new thing. We did the sampler sheet I had the teens do the other day. It was so exciting when the kids would like. Freak out when something simple happened like the knots or the chain stitches. It was great. 

They were also just really silly. Like one of my rules is Positive Language Only.  And when they are even a little negative I make a big silly show about it. But these kids beat me to my joke. And were overly positive and it was hilarious. What good eggs. 

After my second group I had a break in my schedule. And two girls asked to stay behind to keep working on their embroidery. They couldnt go in the pool because of a foot injury. So they stayed with me. It was fun! Once they finished the embroidery they tried my circle looms and they really seemed to like that! They sat in the hammock together and worked on their bracelets. It was just a lot of fun. 

They headed back to their group and I chilled for a little. Played with my thumb piano. Joe the grounds keeper came and asked me what it was. I had a nice conversation with him about trying new things and wanting to be good at music but just not being very good at the followthrough. He is a nice guys. 

Some of the campers going past told me the music was pretty though so that was nice. 

My last group was a little harder. They let themselves get defeated a little faster. And it didnt help that the adults that came with them were to quick to do things for them. So I had to keep yelling at them. In like a jokey you gotta let them learn kind of way. But they still did good and I was very happy. 

But also very tired! My skin was starting to hurt and I was hungry. So I actually left a little early today. I finished cleaning and hung out on the porch for a little but I asked Heather if it was okay if I went home. So off I went.

I finally got my bugerking burger. I went to the other one and was surprised that they had someone outside taking orders? I was very concerned for him being in all black in the sun. But he said he was alright. I got my sandwich and headed home. 

I rested in the living room. Ate. Played a little animal crossing. I am still shocked how much money you can make on the new ocean stuff. I made like 80,000 bells in the half hour I played. Crazy. Soon though I went and took a shower and now  I am laying in bed. Very tired. But feeling a little better now that the allergy pills have kicked in and I could put my sweatshirt on. Things looking up. Skin still hurts. 

I hope you all have a great day tomorrow. I have much to do still for next week. So wish me luck. I hope you all sleep great and take care of yourselves. Goodnight!

[for-bucks-sake]

An Apron is Just a Cape On Backwards (Not a Superhero).

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word count: 6K. This is a whole beast. I hope that’s not too bad.  Warnings: all the fluff!, some angst, smut!! (threesome, DP, fingering, attempt thigh riding.) ,some bad language, LOVE. And for the mad people who haven’t seen it yet: Endgame spoilers.  Summary: Everything was lost, but then it wasn’t. Reader, Steve and Bucky have to make up for lost time. Soon they find it not as easy as they thought, especially because one of them didn’t actually lose anything.  A/N: Some guy was annoying the shit out of me, trashing Steve and Bucky’s friendship, so I cheered myself up by writing a second part that literally no one asked for (also I might’ve written this only bc I’m obsessed with naming my fics weird shit). So this is part 2 of Missing Is a Recurring Theme! Hope you like it! (Also, I am a whore for artist!Steve.) **If anyone is interested, I actually have some spare time, so...Requests are open!

Gif is not mine.

“Hot Stuff Coming Through?” Y/n squinted to read the printed words on Bucky’s ridiculous apron, realization hitting her and she threw her head back, ringing laugh pleasantly filling the room, “when did you get this?”

Bucky was the only one standing in the kitchen. No sign of Steve. His growing hair was tied up on the top of his head in a failed bun, miserable strands of hair escaping it only to be coated with sweat and unidentified powders. Somehow, he managed to already severely stain the black apron and the breathable black t-shirt he wore underneath, spatula in one hand and a knife in the other.

“We got it yesterday,” he said innocent enough, flexing his impressive biceps in different poses, showing off his great new purchase. Y/n breathed, shaking her head, “Wait until you see Steve’s, and yours, of course! Which reminds me, get out of the kitchen!.” “You called me here!” She protested, hitting Bucky with the book she held; Oh, how she wished it wasn’t a paperback. “We’re working on a surprise for you, Darling. You have to keep your eyes closed, or at least stand with your back to us.” “Sure thing, Hot Stuff.” She chuckled, turning around just in time to face Steve going through the kitchen door, wearing a nearly identical apron, clear bag in his hand.

“I got the colors but I’m not sure we have enough blu-“ startled, he stopped talking when he saw her, just in time to hear Bucky’s loud demands he shuts the fuck up. “Colors? What are you two planning? It’s not even my birthday.” Steve gifted her with one of his loop side smiles, “I only said it to throw you off, sweetheart.”

He went around her and passed the plastic bag to the metal arm reaching for him in a sleek motion, pausing for a second above her head indecisively before  kissing the top of it. Bucky’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

Y/n touched Steve’s shoulder as a response, brushing the bare spot the white fabric of his shirt didn’t cover, it was somehow quieter than before.

Bucky cleared his throat, “hypothetically speaking, if we wanted to bake a cake.” Y/n opened her mouth, but was cut when he continued, “hypothetically! Do we really need to add eggs? Back in the day only flour and water were enough.”

“OH MY GOD.” She groaned at Steve’s amused face,

“So…Is that a yes?” Bucky asked again, looking genuinely lost,

“I’m out of here!” Y/n almost sang, stressing the the last words. She left the room, unlocking her phone while imagining the horrors said room is going to go through.

She stepped back, pulling herself closer to the kitchen space, but never entering - only her head visible - “I sent you a link, there are thousands of recipes for cakes. Just choose one.”

They looked grateful, hands petting their pockets, already looking for their phones, “thank you, doll”

She nodded, almost leaving again; “you sure you don’t need help?” She asked on a second thought, blinking and bringing her arms to her sides,

“We’ll be okay,” Bucky said, “besides, this is supposed to be a surprise, c’mon, let us do something nice for you for once.”

She bit her bottom lip and sighed, “Ok, whatever you want.” She stepped out of the kitchen again, “Just, please don’t paint the kitchen with food coloring, it’s going to be a hell to clean up.”

“I told you, there would be no colors involved!” Steve yelled after her, followed by a not so subtle snort from Bucky.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie!” Y/n fired back, making herself comfortable on the sofa, opening the book at the marked page. She heard Bucky laughing again, this time joined by his partner in crime,

“Well, good thing we’re not ones anymore!”

Domestic really suited them, she then thought, and happiness might make her explode.

-

“Stevie, this is…I’m at a loss of  words. It’s amazing.” Bucky always did love to praise him, all the way back to the 20th century. He could feel him, soft man inside soft clothes, behind him. Breath warm and light on his neck, making the small hairs erect from the proximity.

“It’s not even finished yet, you really think she’s gonna like it?” Steve eyed his work, melting into Bucky’s touch as he wrapped solid arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder and humming into his skin.

“I know she will.”

Steve shifted his body, turning around to meet a beautiful pair of eyes, today more grey than blue; like ocean skies early in an April morning. It’s a little game he likes to play with himself - what did Bucky’s eye color resemble today? In all the years he played, he didn’t get the same answer twice.

“What?” The skies in his eyes chuckled along when Steve stared too long, the skin around Bucky’s eyes wrinkled, a pleasant reminder of how his life had changed, laughter so acquainted with his face it decided to leave a permanent mark.

“Nothin’.” Steve smiled at the thought, feeling the hands around his middle tightened, “I just love you.”

Bucky licked his lips, gaze falling quickly to a pink, delicious mouth he could never resist. Their breaths were heavy, warm, mixing in the small space between them until Steve reached for his hair, resting his elbows on Bucky’s broad shoulders as he found his bun, fingers digging into it, messing it up impossible more, strands of hair falling to frame his face.

“Steve,” Bucky swallowed, nose brushing against nose, so close to him, he spoke into Steve’s own lips.

“Yeah?” He breathed, teeth nibbling at Bucky’s bottom lip, beard grazing his smooth jaw,

“Kiss me.”

Their mouths connected, Steve’s hands still in Bucky’s hair, knotting and pulling harder, forcing him closer; Bucky gasped, head tilted right as he found a better access, his tongue moving slowly over Steve’s lips, sucking on the corner of his mouth. Steve panted Bucky’s name, releasing one of his hands from his hair and bringing it to cup his jaw; right hand pulling his chin up, allowing Steve to trace his tongue on the warmth of Bucky’s, pressing his teeth lightly into his lower lip. 

They smelled like baking, with the faintest hint of sweat. Bucky’s pulp lips sugary to the taste, probably from all the bites he snuck into his mouth, ignoring Steve’s protests.

Metal hand soothed up and down his back, chilly material still unusual to the skin even through a t-shirt. Steve leaned his back against the counter, parting the kiss with a wet sound. Bucky smiled lazily, eyes hooded  as he nuzzled his face into Steve’s neck, fluttering kisses into his most sensitive spots,

“God.” He signed, brushing lips against the sharp edge of Steve’s jawline, “I miss your beard.”

-

Screams from the kitchen was all she heard before she threw her book to the side, cursing everything in the world she had to abandon the last ten pages unread.

Muffled swearing, a terrified “Steve.”, a burnt small and when she entered the kitchen, grey smoke.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, catching her breath but still very much alarmed.

“Nothing!” One of them said in an unnaturally high squeak she couldn’t recognize. Steve cleared his throat, “nothing.” He said again, more composed, fanning furiously the smoking oven along with Bucky.

Once the loud beeping sound stopped - smell still strong and unpleasant in their noses, but the black screen died down - they faced her, the epitome of innocence with their boyish smiles, posture hunched as they fiddled with their hands, looking astonishingly alike.

“We’re sorry.” Steve said, eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to look up, “it’s m’fault. I was so busy paint- working on something else I got distracted-“

“No no, we both know it’s on me, I should’ve-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Y/n said, arms crossed against her chest as she cut them both sharply, they could be so serious sometimes. “All you did was burn half the kitchen! Lighten up guys.” She continued before they had a chance to speak, “there are no faults, I’m not mad.” She smiled, as to convince them she was telling the truth.

Both men exhaled at the same time, relieved the mess they made wasn’t gonna get them in trouble. “I can’t be mad at you, c’mon.” Y/n said wholeheartedly, bringing her arms to the side and walking forward, nudging their shoulders as to cheer them up, “I’m just upset you worked all day for nothing.” She sighed, searching for their hands, she took Bucky’s metallic palm in her right, and Steve’s in her left.

“It’s not entirely for nothing.” Bucky motioned, cupping her face, calloused flesh holding delicate features. He smiled at her, then at Steve, standing inside their impromptu circle made of limbs- “Now,” a dopey grin smudge his red lips, looking proud of himself, “we can get pizza!”

-

“You seemed a little too keen on throwing out all the food you’ve worked on, don’t you think? And look at the road!”

Bucky chuckled, stirring his gaze from her to the black sedan in front of them, “I’d much rather look at you, sugar.” He teased in a sickeningly sweet voice, y/n rolled her eyes, pretending to puke. “No one is moving anyway.” He hit the wheel in frustration, she swore she heard it creaks, “and for your question, darl’,” Bucky looked at her again, “I am extremely,” he stressed, “bummed out it didn’t work. And I mean EXTREMELY. Besides, it wasn’t the main surprise, Steve’s still working on it at home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed, gently touching his jaw and guiding it to face forward; he opened his mouth, tilting his head down to try and bite her finger, he grazed it with his front teeth and kissed it. Her smile turned to a loud laugh as a very enthusiastic driver honked his horn off behind them, universal way of signaling someone to fucking drive. Bucky didn’t have to look to see the “I told you so” all over her face.

“Shut up.” He muttered under his breath,

She pursed her smiling lips, looking innocent as ever, “I didn’t say anything.”

-

They drove in silence, Bucky hummed to the beat of her fingers drumming on the window.

“Is something wrong?” He said suddenly, making y/n jolt herself up.

“Is there something that should be wrong?” She asked, confused by the unforeseen question,

He sighed heavily, “with you and Steve…I mean.”

Oh shit. “I don’t think so, no.” She swallowed, picking at her fingernails.

“I thought superheroes weren’t supposed to lie.” Damn them, both of them and their way of knowing exactly what she feels.

“I’m not a superhero.”

“You are to me.” He said quietly, both looking intensely at the road.

“I’m not lying,” she exhaled, bringing her abused nails to her lips, biting, “it’s just… Everything is good, you know? Great. I love you, I love you both more than ever.” She shifted in her sit again, visibly uncomfortable.

“We never talked about this.” Her voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper, “I mean really talked about this. When you were gone…it was hard to keep going like everything was normal, so we somehow adjusted to a new normal, our normal. And then you came back, which I’m grateful for, everyday.” She bit her bottom lip, bringing her legs closer to her lap.

“I wake up and I see you, I see him, and I want to cry. Cry because I never thought I would be this lucky again. But when you came back we had to discover the old normal again, remember it, face the damage our previous poor way of coping did to us. Five years is a long time, Buck.”

She was holding her breath, Bucky could tell, the way she was holding her thoughts up until now.

He often forgot. He hated the feeling of memories disintegrating from his grip, in small, unnoticeable bits that he worked so hard scraping together. Most of the things come back to him eventually, the good and the bad. But this was a different type of forgetting; this time he had nothing to remember.

Sometimes it just hit him, when he watched them. How everything so drastically changed when he was gone. He saw it in the dark circles around her eyes, never seemed to fade or to brightened, no matter how much time had gone or how well rested she was. Sometimes it was in the new crease on Steve’s forehead, a grounding reminder that they, too, can run out of time. Sometimes he saw it in their faints attempts to wake up early for morning runs, can’t keep up even when they do. Sometimes it was in the hesitation in Steve’s eyes, every time he came in contact with her skin, almost afraid she doesn’t want his touch anymore.

For Bucky there was nothing to remember, but for them- there was too much to forget.

And he hated it, blaming himself in true Bucky Barnes fashion. Like he had any say on the matter. Sometime, he thinks that if he had, he’d tell them to move on.

Bucky’s life were hard on him, cruel, even - but they also taught him that time was invaluable. Precious seconds and moments had to be clenched on to, not be wasted, not be overlooked; that’s how he knew they should’ve let go. Instead of latching onto the memory of him, distant fading version of  the man he is in their minds, they could’ve started over, make their new normal a permanent one. They could’ve learned to love each other without him. They could’ve healed.

In a greedy, ugly pit inside the dark depths of his heart he was glad they didn’t, selfishness getting the best of him, thinking he might have killed himself if he woke up only to realize he doesn’t have anyone to wake up to.

Five years is a long time.

He gripped the wheel harder with two hands, nearly creating small valleys in the shape of his fingers, “He loves you.” He hushed, in a way that was almost intimate, like a secret.

“I know.”

“Sometimes I think he is going to break. He lost me so many times. Too many times in one lifetime. If he didn’t have you…He would’ve.”

“I would’ve, too.” Y/n whispered,

“I know.” He said softly, body loosen up as he spoke, “you kept each other together, you saved each other from falling apart. That’s love.”

She stayed quiet as Bucky found a parking spot, squeezing the car in a tight fit.

Her mind was roaming, she had a lot to think about.

“Let’s go?”

-

“God I missed this place.” Bucky beamed at the smell, his entire demeanor changes as they walked into the small pizzeria. Fresh dough was baking, a game was on on the beat up TV screen near the freezers, fluorescent lights planting small stars inside his eyes. Suddenly, y/n felt different, too.

They found their way between the tables, an old woman with a child were sitting to their right, a young couple to their left, some elderly men yelled at the television, heating up in a meaningless argument over the players.

They reached the cashier, first in line. His eyes looked tired, yet he treated them with a smile accompanied with a cheerful “what can I get ya?”,not letting the long shift get to him. “We’d like two large pizzas please, one with extra cheese…” Bucky’s voice faded as she dived deeper into her thoughts. His left hand was light on the small of her back, chilling the narrow strip of skin revealed when her t-shirt rode up.

Y/n looked around, tuning down the talking and the noise even more, only to catch a glimpse of a familiar face, now very less bearded, somehow younger looking. A small towel in a soft yellow hung from his shoulder, and the friendly smile that was always there didn’t disappoint, directed to her yet again. He nodded as their gazes crossed, an undisputed spark of recognition floating inside his eyes as he glanced quickly at Bucky.

The old man didn’t stay much longer, responding to the loud “dad!” calls from the back by returning quickly, not before he caught y/n nodding back, latching Bucky closer.

-

They drove in silence. Y/n trying to balance the square boxes on her lap as Bucky allowed himself to steal a slice, taking a bite every time they stopped at a red light.

“This is,” he announced with his mouth full, defying the quiet, “the best pizza ever!”

She chuckled, tightening her grip around the sides of the steaming carton, “save the declarations for Steve, I don’t really care for it either way.”

“You have to decide which side are you on!” Bucky said, finishing and swallowing his bite, looking at her, “playing both sides isn’t going to work any longer baby.”

“ROAD!” She grunted, momentarily losing her balance and falling forward, almost covering her entire sit with cheese and sauce.

“Y/n? You okay?” Bucky’s voice was concerned, and he was looking at her, again.

“I’m fine! Stop looking at me!” She moved, adjusting to a more comfortable position,

“C’mon now, you know I can drive us safely with my eyes closed.”

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had a lot of practice, too?” She scuffed,

“As a matter of fact,” he tensed, smiling sadly, “I have.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the drive, and Bucky didn’t stir his eyes from the highway.

-

“Time for the surprise!.” Bucky announced after they sat down, eating wordlessly except from his occasional blissful moans, and Steve’s grumpy noises of disgust.

Y/n looked down at him, baffled. Her hands paused their continuant motion in the past twenty minutes. He sat between her legs, hard feelings long forgotten - placated by tender twining of fingers through his hair; chipped nails gently scratching his scalp and slowly descending to the top of his shoulders.

Steve looked up as well, tossing his pepperoni slice back to the box, willingly abandoned. “Sure. I’ll go get it.”

Y/n glanced at Steve, immediately bringing her gaze down to Bucky again, “C’mon, you really shouldn’t have.”

They both dismissed her, getting up and disappearing in the kitchen.

Y/n followed them with her gaze, despite her protests she was giddy with excitement, what it was didn’t matter - the thought of how hard they worked on it all day was enough to make her happy with whatever they made.

Blond head emerged from the room first, quicker than she thought, followed by Bucky- their hands bearing gifts;

Steve held three aprons, and what looked like a tray with a knife on it, laying next to something that was covered, she couldn’t see what it was.

Gently pushing the nearly empty pizza boxes, Steve placed the tray on the table, tossing each the matching clothes.

“Are we really gonna wear them?” Hers was different, printed colors all over it, and even in its folded state she had a vague idea what was on it.

“Open it!” Bucky clapped after he finished tying his behind his back. He was a little too enthusiastic. She caught a glimpse of Steve smiling conspicuously, can’t keep a straight face as she unfolded the apron, revealing a picture of a very detailed, hairy belly. Rolls that seemed like they were acquired by abusing the use of beer, and a pair of man boobs that horrifiedly were too similar to her own for her liking.

Both men howled with laughter, can’t contain themselves any longer when she put it on.

“Do you like it?” Bucky snickered, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.

“You know what?” She raised an eyebrow, checking herself out, “It’s kinda growing on me.” How unbelievable it was that technically, those men were over a hundred years old.

“Good.” Steve tried to keep a straight face, failing miserably, “because you’re never, you’re never taking this off.”

“Oh, never? Not even for…?” Y/n bit her lips suggestively, looking at them as they looked at each other. She was just teasing, getting them riled up as a payback. She was trying to be funny, but their expressions weren’t as playful.

She stayed in her place, untying the ridiculous apron, unbuttoning her jeans and letting it fall down to her hips.

That was quick, she thought as they walked towards her in unison, trapping her between them and the couch.

Bucky pushed down the denim, letting her step out of it while he sat, parting his legs and pulling her down for a kiss.

Steve tangled his long fingers in her hair, smoothly pressing her against Bucky’s lips, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth; Bucky groaned, hoisting her up on his lap, desperately seeking more friction. His metal arm clutched her waist with a force she knew was going to leave bruises, his other hand was holding her head in place, replacing Steve as he began to kiss her neck, sucking at the skin until it was red and angry. He smirked when she cried out, breaking the kiss only for Bucky to pull her back in. Steve licked at the ruptured blood vessels, soothing them with his tongue before he moved to a new patch of skin.

Y/n gripped Bucky’s shoulder, dire for even the slightest relief, grinding against his clothed crotch, using him to keep her balance. She was suddenly stopped when his arm held her hips steady, not allowing her to move.

“Uh, uh sweetheart,” She heard Steve rasping in her ear, biting at her earlobe, making her squirm under him, “you’re not getting off that easy.”

It was like they found their rhythm again, like buying a new record of old songs; they held her between them, undressing themselves and what’s left of her clothes, not even bothering to leave the couch.

Being so close to them was like a cure; nothing could touch her, nothing but them. She felt the weight of Steve’s lips on hers, tracing his soft tongue on her teeth, breathing lightly into her, opening her mouth for him. She didn’t need anything else.

Bucky found her right breast, bare and soft, with only the contrast of her hardening nipple reacting to his slow circles around it, only stopping to pinch her pink nub, rolling it between his fingers. He chuckled softly when her breath hitched, clinging to Steve’s naked chest and pushing her ass closer to Bucky’s cock.

She shifted on his lap, somehow; now facing Steve, mouth on his, and her back to Bucky, allowing him a better access to her sex.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, the cold of the metal meeting her heat, creating a contrasting sensation that made her whole body shiver with pleasure.

“Look at you,” he whispered in her ear, syncing the movements of both of his hands on her, “you’re so wet.”

Y/n hummed in response, hand shaping into a fist around Steve’s bicep when he caught her other breast, giving the same attention to it as Bucky.

“You’re so good for us doll.” He kissed the edge of her jaw, “Such a good girl, so wet for us.”

She groaned as Bucky slid a smooth finger inside her, slowly pumping it in and out, stretching her enough to insert a second finger between her folds.

“Faster, please.” She cried, mouth now free as Steve resumed working on marking her skin, sucking at her collarbone, allowing her to be as vocal as she wants.

“Steve, Bucky,” she bit her bottom lip, unable to divide her attention; Bucky moving faster inside her, thumb teasing her clit, and Steve squeezing her tits, bringing one of them to his mouth and scraping her sensitive nipple. It was all becoming too much.

Her hips buckled, breaths becoming more urgent as she moaned their names,

“Do you want to cum, darling?” Bucky asked from behind, not any less urgent than her, his cock becoming uncomfortably harder against his stomach and her ass by the second.

Y/n nodded furiously, swallowing a sob when a third digit entered her, “oh shit, I’m so close.”

Steve caressed her cheek, tracing the shape of her red lips with his thumb. She kissed it, taking it in her mouth fully, tongue spiraling its form and coating it with her saliva, hollowing her cheeks around it.

The heat rose to her face, knots tying up inside her stomach and going higher and higher, taking her closer to the edge.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come for us.”

She didn’t know who said it, too caught up in her own pleasure, but it was enough; The waves of her orgasm hit her all at once, she moaned loudly around Steve’s thumb, as Bucky didn’t stop, riding her high with her, fingers still being pushed in and out of her, milking her of her pleasure with sweet reassurance in her ears.

Bucky kissed her shoulder as she came down, still sensitive when he pulled his fingers from her heat. He growled when he saw how drenched they were, the metal collecting a good amount of her juices, “Fuck, baby.” Bucky smirked, both men fascinated by her reaction to them as if it was the first time, “I always miss your taste so much.”

He brought two wet fingers to his lips, relishing on her cum, moaning in pleasure for how sweet she is. Steve shuffled closer, bringing himself so close he was sharing Bucky’s lap with her.

He bit his lips, hungrily eyeing Bucky’s forefinger, untouched, still dripping with her. 

Steve secured his hand around the metal wrist in a firm grip, waiting for Bucky to lick his fingers clean, and taking the third one into his mouth, sucking at it until there was nothing left.

Bucky swallowed, cock twitching at the sensation of Steve’s tongue on his body. The subtle reaction captured Steve’s attention, and he moved even more forward, squeezing y/n between them, her eyes hooded in a post orgasm bliss, renewed arousal starting to form in her core again when she felt the weight of Steve against her sensitive pussy.

“C’mere.” Steve motioned, voice deep from lust. Bucky swallowed again when he felt a tug at his hair, pulling him forward. Steve crushed his lips on his, the delicious flavor of y/n still on their tongue as they tasted it off each other, breathlessly exploring. Steve took a hold of Bucky’s thick shaft, stroking him from the base to the tip, removing the precum with his thumb and smearing it on y/n lips blindly, not breaking the kiss. She whimpered, eagerly licking it off.

Steve’s hips jolted involuntarily, forcing them to part, barely catching their breath.

“Fuck, Steve…Please.” Y/n moaned at the new friction, suddenly needy for more. He positioned himself farther, just in front of her entrance, teasing her with his tip, as Bucky parted her thighs, holding her in place.

She shifted, head shaking as she turned to Bucky. “I want both of you.”

His breath hitched in his throat, the clutch of his fingers tightening around her, “it’s been so long, baby. Are you sure you’re read-“

“Please? Bucky, Steve?” She was begging now, voice small, eyes pleading, the pink blush on her cheeks matched the scarlet color of her lips, reminding Bucky of a rose. The red tint casted a celestial shadow across her face, highlighting the splatter of freckles on her nose, her dilated pupils overpowering the color of her eyes. There’s so much self restraint a man can have.

“Okay.” He said hoarsely, barley able to control himself, “whatever you want, darling.”

She smiled, biting her lips to obscure it. She didn’t care it’s been years since they were both inside her. She wanted them. Needed them.

Bucky dipped his fingers inside her soaked core, coating himself in her fluids. She gasped when he pulled them out, slowly, his other hand was parting her asscheeks, searching for her entrance.

“Shh,” Bucky kissed her left shoulder, rubbing circles around the tight ring of muscles, using her own juices as a lubricant, “relax for me, baby.”

Y/n sighed, feeling Steve length on her folds, still not pushing inside her. He stroked her hair, leaving fluttering kisses on her neck, so different from the aggressive lovebites he previously left there.

She felt her muscles loosen around Bucky, slowly but surly opening her up for him.

“Buck.” She inhaled sharply as he managed to get a finger inside her. Steve was rubbing lazy circles on her clit, and she thought she’ll cum again, the familiar coil in her guts starting to form.

“Again already?” Bucky chuckled behind her, recognizing her rapid breaths and the clutching of her walls around him. He added a second finger, sliding inside her smoothly, “I guess we’ll have to pick up the pace.”

A couple of pumps later, and he pressed a third digit into her hole, it was a tighter fit, muscles resisting it at first, but he was persistent.

“So tight.” He exhaled, humming at the nape of her neck. Y/n opened her eyes, not realizing how hard she shut them, only to see Steve’s hungry look on them, devouring both of their naked forms.

She felt the fire igniting in the pit of her stomach, a softer pleasure washing her when she came, panting and hiding her face in the crook of Steve’s neck.

Steve chest vibrated with laugher, placing a hand on her back, “Are you okay?”

Y/n nodded, leaving the safety of his neck to look at him, words too difficult to form.

“We’re almost there,” Bucky reassured, gathering her newly found slick to coat his cock, pulling out his fingers. He moved himself to her entrance, stretching her painfully even with all his caution.

“Yes, just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” He praised her while caressing her arm, moving another inch deeper until his base hit her ass.

She let out a strangled gasp, shutting her eyes and correcting her breaths. Steve squeezed her palm, signaling her to open her eyes. She looked at him, already looking wrecked; “Are you sure, y/n? It’s okay if you-“

Y/n bit her bottom lip, smiling at him as sweetly as she could, “pretty please?”

The man huffed, letting out a low chuckle and placed himself against her dripping cunt, thrusting his hips into hers, gradually filling her up.

“Oh shit.”

It was always overwhelming at the first thrust. Being so full she forgot how empty she used to be. The stretch opening her up, reminding of something she hasn’t felt in five years. Right now, she might’ve felt complete.

She wasn’t ready, until now, having them both in the same level of intimacy like before. But this was so impromptu, so raw, so them; it was only natural for her to feel like herself again.

They stayed still inside her, giving her the time to adjust, already twitching, and she felt every inch of them against her damp walls, clenching around them, making it unbearable for them not to budge.

Y/n was the one to initiate. Recognizing how restless they grew, she rolled her hips, a whine escaping her lips just when Steve and Bucky moaned deeply, holding onto her.

She did it again, this time it stung less, her body getting accustomed to the presence of them inside,

“Y/n.” Bucky groaned, holding her hips in a steel grip.

“Yes?” She blinked at him, innocently.

“Stop that.”

“Why?”

“You’re hurting yourself.”

There was a pause, “I’m not, it’s okay.”

Steve and Bucky shared a look above her head, brief but meaningful. Steve pulled himself back slowly, stopping at the half of his length, only to pound into her again; she shut her eyes, her hands on Steve’s bare chest, feeling the flex of his muscles under it.

Bucky did the same thing- he drew himself out and pushed back in, knuckles tightening around her middle.

Beads of sweat formed in the valley of her breasts as they slammed harder each time, picking up a pace between themselves, moving in turns and then together, whispering words to sooth her pain.

Y/n was a mess under them, being so completely full, any discomfort long gone or replaced by pleasure.

“Guys,” she whimpered, “I’m close.”

Her eyes teared up, head shot back and met Bucky’s shoulder; she squirmed, able to taste her edge now. She couldn’t take it, her hips shifting involuntarily to the sides as they fucked into her.

They held her still again, nearly collapsing over her from how close they were, how good she took them.

She was the first one to come. Waves on waves of pleasure striking harder than before. She could taste her salty tears and hear herself screaming, nails clawing at anything she could find.

“Fuck!” Bucky grunted, hips thrusting into her repeatedly until he came inside her, leaning his head on her neck, holding her close for Steve to continue until he got his release.

“Shh, baby." Bucky whispered, “It’s okay, we’ve got you.” Steve rocked her body, crushing his hips into hers desperately, his eyebrows furrowed, cheeks rosy. He was close too.

She whined, clutching walls around him for the last time, not having any energy left in her to do anything else. Steve inhaled sharply, the tightness of her pushing him over the edge.

He spilled hot shots inside her, nearly collapsing on top of her in a tangle of sweaty bodies.

They stayed like this, not daring to move, still buried deep within each other.

“We forgot the cake.” Y/n laughed breathily.

“You weren’t supposed to know it’s a cake.” Bucky muttered, toying with a couple wet strands of her hair lazily.

“We kinda gave it up, Buck.” Steve admitted, “I’m pulling out, sweetheart.” He gave her a few seconds to prepare -say goodbye to the comforting warmth of the both of them surrounding her- lifting himself up using the arm of the sofa. In one slick motion he was no longer inside her, the sudden emptiness alien and unwanted. A mix of her juices dripped down her legs slowly, blending with the shots of cum Bucky left in her, too, as he mirrored Steve’s actions, removing himself from her hole.

It was awfully lonely all of a sudden.

“C’mon baby.” Bucky lifted her up as well, handling her as gently as he could, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No, no.” Y/n protested, “I wanna see the surprise.”

“It can wait for tomorrow.” Steve said, piling up the boxes on the table, cleaning up after them.

“You didn’t spend all day making it so I would see it tomorrow, show me.” She was stubborn, persistent, they knew too well it was a losing battle once she sat her mind to something. And she was already set on the couch again. They exchanged looks, sighing and sitting down to her sides.

“It’s not much.” Steve said, suddenly feeling self conscious about his work.

“It’s amazing,” Bucky reassured, knowing Steve isn’t going to uncover it himself so he did it instead, peeling the cover off to reveal it.

Y/n gasped, drinking in the work of art in front of her; It was a rectangle shaped chocolate cake, completed with white frosting evenly spread on top.

There was a painting drawn into the cream, light strokes of brush that only one person could create, a beautiful mess of blue and red, like watercolors fighting to create harmony between them. It was them, it took her a while to find sense in the chaos, but eventually she recognized three figures, fitting into one.

 Beautiful.

“Steve.” She breathed, “we’re never eating this.”

“We’re not sure how edible it is, anyway.” Steve laughed in relief, embracing her and kissing her temple.

“We are.” Bucky all but jumped on them, wrapping his arms around the two in an awkward yet loving hug, their laughs ringing together in a gracious melody, “It’s not.“

#Steve Rogers #captain america #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier #avengers endgame #The Avengers #steve rogers x reader #bucky barns x reader #stucky #stucky x reader #stevebucky #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #Chris Evans #sebastian stan #i write

[tellywoodtrash]

sanjivani 06 + 07.11.19 lbs

still cranky af coz i'm tired from yesterday and my cat won't stop screaming in my face FOR NO DISCERNIBLE REASON this morning and ughhhhhhhhhhh. so imma pay it forward and caps lock scream at these dumbasses.

———————————————————————

06.11.19

YEH INSAAN PAGAL HAI KYA, TERE KO KOIIIIIIIIIIIII AUR SOLUTION DIKHAAYI NAHI DE RAHA SIVAAYE KHUD US SE SHAADI KARNE KE!?!!?!? LIKE GOD SIDDHANT, YOU ARE SO FUCKING DUMB.

le khaap panchayat bhi peeche pad gayi hai. LORD. THIS COUNTRY IS HONESTLY THE PITS WITH ITS DUMBASS PATRIARCHAL BULLSHIT.

"main baat karunga ishani se; woh ek ladki hai, samajh jaayegi."

BC LADKI TOH MAIN BHI HOON AUR MUJHE TOH BILKUL BHI SAMAJH NAHI AA RAHA. KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BAKCHODIIIIIIIII HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

this dumbass is tooooooooo fucking pure for his own good. like........ itna bhi achcha nahi hona chahiye bande ko zindagi mein.

waah. iska chehra dekho. kaisi ram milaaye jodi hai bewakoofon ki.

ishani also too pure for her own good. but in a relatable sort of way, unlike that other idiot.

oh madam, tere iss seal of approval/character certificate ka kya woh achaar daalega?!!?!? usski poori zindagi jhand ho gayi hai iss chakkar mein.

ok if you've decided that this marriage is gonna work, etc. THEN STOP LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THIS.

this chick is crazy. i get you're relieved he didn’t cheat on you and shit but........  maybe decades from now you can look back and marvel on what a great, noble man you loved, but this is a weird reaction to have right now.

ok fwding this patient’s incredibly-on-the-nose-shaayari nonsense, coz i'm really pissed now.

le poora corridor ghoom phir ke phir se wapis idhar hi aa gayi. 2 minute pehle toh bada aashirwaad de rahi thi iss shaadi ko. MAKE UP YOUR MIND SIS.

ugh lo yeh bhi aa gaya.

MANHOOS.

siddhu should claim surging newlywed/paternal hormones and throw a punch or two at this asshole.

WAIT WHAT HAS THIS FUCKER SHIFTED HIS REVENGE FROM SHASHANK TO SID?!!?!?!? WHY?!!?!?!? THE FUCK IS GOING ONNNNNNNNNNNNN?????

waaaaaaah kya khush-haaal jodi hai. should be a real healthy and conducive environment to raise a kid in!

wow. EVERYONE KNOWS THE WHOLE DEAL WITH SID AND ASHA NOW. like..... there's no keeping a secret in this hospital huh. 

oh ab issko bada empathy hai bin byaahi maa-on ke saath. ROSHNI KE SAATH KYA KAAND KIYA THA BE!?!?!?! BOL! SACH BOL!!!!!!!!!!!!

ugh stupid red herring. goddddddddddd when will they reveal this raaz already!?!?

lol sid's in the (left) corner in this shot, and then disappears in this next.

snort, ishani has ZEROOOOOOOOOO of that 4 lions awareness thingy huh??? banda 4 feet peecha khada hai and she's most focused on her gale ki kharaash.

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HE SURPRISED HER AND MADE HER CHOKE. HAVEN'T YOU DONE ENOUGH TO RUIN HER LIFE, DUMBASS?!!?!

"god, tum choke kar rahi ho?!?!?! JUST BREATHE."

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, WOHI TOH NAHI HO RAHA?????? YOU THINK SHE’S A WILLING PARTICIPANT IN THIS HERE EXERCISE OF NOT BEING ABLE TO PERFORM THE ESSENTIAL PROCESS OF BREATHING????? KAUN HAI YAAR YEH BEWAKOOF?!?! SHAADI KARTE TIME MEDICAL KI DEGREE RADDI MEIN BECH AAYA KYA?!?! YA HAWAN KUND MEIN PHENK DIYA AUR USSI KE PHERE LAGAAYE THE TUNEY?

lmao this is the worst, most unconvincing heimlich i have ever seen.

uh. no. this is NOT a romantic moment.

oh no. the tone shifted and it BECAME a romantic moment. fuck. just either make out or move the fuck to the two furthest corners of the elevator. THIS TENSION IS FUCKING INSANE.

oh god this boy's unrelenting sadness is killing me. it's bloody killing me. i think i might have to double my dose of antidepressants while this fucking track is on.

boss!dad is so sad and disappoint that his ship crashed and burnt so spectacularly. he’s been here since before everyone else, when ishani was manically describing her titli and abnormal heartbeat!!!!!! :’(((((((((((

lmaoooooooooooo i wish anjali was here to hear shashank giving this personal life/professional life balance ka lecture. bada mazzaaa aaata!

boss!dad ki umeedein sidIsha pe abhi bhi kaayam. saying kuch aur nahi toh dost hi bano ishani ka.

dunno if that’s such a good idea right now, dad. maybe in time, once the feelings aren’t so raw.

GOD PLEASE ISKO ISKI KHUSHIYAAN WAPIS DE DO. ISKA GHAM AUR JHELA NAHI JAATA. CHEHRA DEKHO BECHAARE KA!!!!!!!!!!! I’M THIS CLOSE TO TEARS. HE’S A GENUINELY GOOD BEAN AND DESERVES BETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh ho ab inka date dekhna hoga.

juhi is like life mein kabhi kabhi go with the flow. shashank is like "kabhi kabhi kya, hamesha."

haan hamesha aise flow kar-karke hi yeh nateeja nikal aaya hai; pata nahi kitna jaane-anjaane bachche of yours are running around here at any given moment.

................... so ambiguous. is this a romantic saath or is this a platonic saath?? LIKE THE FUCK IS THE DEAL WITH YOU TWO?!!? JUST DTR ALREADY.

purest boys. love you two.

tu haraami hai. but love your face.

bleh.

lmao rahil can't muster up neil's civil graciousness towards sidAsha.

kameeeeeeeeeeeeena insaan. bohut hi bada keeda hai tu.

rahil yaaar. i love your petty ass so much. you're honestly my favt person on this godforsaken show.

"kaash yeh sapna hota."

"kaash yeh sab ek jhoot hota. kaash sab kuch pehle jaise hota. (hum) iss tarah saamne nahi, saath khade hote."

OH HO. FORESHADOWING KI YEH SAB JHOOT HI TOH HAIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YISSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!

———————————————————————

07.11.19

RISHABH I SWEAR TO GOD....... TU ITNAAAAAAAAAAA KAMEENA KYUNNNNNNNN HAIIIIIIIII????? BHAGWAN KO BHI EK DIN MOOH DIKHAANA HAI, KUCH TOH SHARAM KAR?!?!!!!!

while neil continues to make an effort, rahil continues to make no pretense of approving of sidAsha. he just wandered the fuck off, lol.

OUFF SAD BEBBIES. SO SAD THEY ARE.

grey is really this one's colour. he looks hottesttttttttt in it. it brings out his eyes/skin tone most spectacularly.

oh ab suddenly Awareness™ (*khushi kumari gupta's voice correcting me from the skies* “ACIDITY!!!!!”) jaag utha.

SOMEONE EXPLAIN TO ME WHO THE FUCK IS SETTING OFF FIREWORKS RIGHT OVER A FUCKING HOSPITAL??????? like it's no metaphor or anything, since they've been going off since even before he appeared before her.

the fluctuating of the lights is majorlyyyyyyyyy distracting. it's not just the fairy lights, but even the huge lamps behind them.... those should.... NOT be doing that.

IDIOTS. STOP LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT AND MAKING ME WANT TO DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

simultaneous "i love you."

wow, inappropriate but also AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH [screams till the end of time]

ugh vardhan you're such a loserrrrrrrrrr. get a goddamn life. it's diwali; shouldn't you be with your kid, instead of sitting here alone in your office in the dark?????

"i love you, ishani. i really do. bohut pyaar karta hoon main tumse."

BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH I AM DESTROYED. I AM FUCKING...... LYING ON THE FLOOR IN PIECES. THIS IS JUST SO FUCKING SAD.

"surgery mein kabhi kabhi humein ek pal mein faisla lena pad jaata hai. fayda-nuksaan, sahi-galat ke baare mein nahi soch sakte. uss ek pal mein patient ki jaan kaise bachaaye? bass ussi tarah, uss din asha aur uske bachche ki jaan bachaane ke liye, mujhe jo sahi laga maine wohi kiya. main ek doctor hoon, apne saamne ek ladki aur uske bachche ko main marte kaise dekh sakta tha???"

ugh siddhanttttttttttttttttt yaaaaaaar, TU ITNA ACHCHA KYUN HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII?????? ZINDAGI KUCHAL KE RAKH DETI HAI TUM JAISO KO YAAR.

ok some hardcore 2000s k-soap editing happening here and taking me outta the moment.

iska naatak abhi tak khatam nahi hua.

SO VARDHAN KNOWS THAT SID IS SHASHANK'S KID???? WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IS HAPPENING HERE???? WHY GO THIS COMPLICATED AND TWISTED ROUTE INSTEAD OF JUST EXPOSING THAT TRUTH TO EVERYONE????? SUCH CONTRIVED BS!!!!!!

GOD SIDDHANT, YOU FUCKING NEED THERAPY. THROWING YOUR WHOLEASS LIFE AWAY TO TRY AND PROTECT A RANDOM UNBORN CLUMP OF CELLS IS NOT THE WAY TO FUCKING DEAL WITH YOUR DADDY ISSUES.

THIS IS NOT HOW I WANTED YOU GETTING ON YOUR KNEES IN FRONT OF HERRRRRRRRRR BUT YES, BEG. BEGGGGGGGGG FOR FORGIVENESS YOU FUCKING DUMBASSSSSSSSS.

bitch, uske tumpar chillane se kya haasil hona hai???? poori zindagi ujaad rakhi hai tuney apne iss Benevolent Bewakoofi™ se.

PHIR I LOVE YOU BOLA. A REAL PASSIONATE ONE THIS TIME. THIS GUY IS FUCKING TRYING TO KILL ME. OF FEELZ AND SADNESS. I'M LITERALLY SO SAD RIGHT NOW.

"i'll always love you.... main..."

FUCK THIS GUY IS REALLY TRYING TO FUCKING MURDER ME MAN.

"pehle toh main pyaar karti thi, ab aur karne lagi hoon. aur yeh pyaar zaroor badhega hi."

ASLKDJSALKDJASLDKJAJD LET THEM BEEEEEE TOGETHERRRRRRRRRRRR THIS IS JUST SO FUCKING UNFAIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR *SHAKES A FIST AT THE SKY*

"kya kamaal ki niraasha phaila rakhi hai tumne sanjivani mein. tumhare maa-baap ne tumhara naam galat rakh diya, haina dr. asha?"

ugh yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar. first of all we have such few female characters here, mardon se bloody bhara pada hai show. upar se iss ek achche compelling female character ka poora ka poora satyanaaash kar diya. main kabhi maaf nahi karoongi writers ko.

blah blah zimmedaari waala gyaan aur amar prem ke vaade, while im just looking at the poor fit of namit's pants in the butt. someone tailor that shit for him. (or don’t. i find pancake butts on hot boys kinda adorable.)

"tumne usse nahi, uski achchaayi ne usse phasaaya."

badaaaaaaaaaaaaa hi kameena insaan hai tu vardhan. narak ki aag mein jalega. if ishani herself doesn't set you on fire in the sanjivani lobby first.

perhaps asha will do the honors? looks toh aise hi de rahi hai. all the best asha. that's one way you can redeem yourself in everyone’s eyes, sis.

"pehle toh main sirf aapse pyaar karti thi. ab hadh se zyaada izzat karti hoon."

lmao ishani admitting that she didn't have any khaas izzat for him earlier.

OUFF ISS PRIDE AUR PYAAR KA KYA HI KARNA HAI IF YOU'RE NOT GETTING CHUMMIS AND/OR ORGASMS OUT OF IT????? GODDDDDDDD. AB TOH ~~~PRIDE KE SAATH~~ APNA HAATH, JAGGANNATH HI HAI TUM DONO BEWAKOOFON KE LIYE, AGLE JANAM TAK.

fuck this episode is..... too much on me. i'm just hella glad that my period is over, or i would slip into a serious depressive episode over this.

but just..... LOOK AT IT. LOOK AT THE WAY HE CAN’T HELP REACHING OUT TO HOLD HER FACE, THEY BOTH KNOW IT’S INAPPROPRIATE AND ARE TRYING TO RESTRAIN THEMSELVES, BUT HE STILL CAN’T STOP TRYING TO PHYSICALLY COMFORT HER (BECAUSE TOUCH IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE, IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN.) AND HE CAN’T COZ HE SHOULDN’T AND HE’S DYING ON THE INSIDE BECAUSE OF IT.

I AM IN LEGIT PHYSICAL PAIN FROM SADNESS RIGHT NOW.

i wanna hate asha, but i can't. coz i can really empathize and understand the desperation with which she wants to hold on to her current life, against the forces of patriarchy trying to crush her free will so brutally .

ok maybe i hate her a little, if she'll listen to this fucker and actively make sid's life hard, moreso than what has already transpired.

MAN WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM GOD I NEED ISHANI AND ANJALI TO TEAM UP AND KICK THIS ASSHOLE'S ASSSSSSSSSSS FOR MESSING WITH THEIR LIVES AND THE LIVES OF THEIR DUDES (DAD/BROTHER/BOYFRIEND) SO BADLYYYYYYYYYYY

———————————————————————

tell me sidIsha ke andar ke detectives phir jaag uthenge and will resolve this bullllllllllllshit within next weeeeeek, COZ I HONESTLY HAVE AN ANXIETY TUMMY ACHE RN.

#sanjivani #sj lbs #episode liveblogs

[ferallymine]

Worldbreaker Pt. 1

The rubble. The screams. The frantic hands digging through the mess above her buried broken lifeless body. The last stone moving away- seeing the white light shine onto her. A hand reaching out-

Mardea shot up, sweat covering her body. Reaching out to see the alarm clock, she had to bite down a yelp of pain.

“Not…again…” Her voice was tired and straining. Black Energy had marked her arms in the night, leaving burns on her skin and the sheets.

She stumbled into her bathroom, slamming the cold water handle on to fill the tub. Her feet sizzled on the chilled ivory tile, heat coming off her body in waves. She shouldn’t be this hot with just panties and a loose cotton tank top on, but this is one of many burdens of being Mardea Lin.

The water stung her tender burnt skin. Steam hissed from her body, distracting her from wanting to scream. Mardea hadn’t been severely burned by fire, but she imagined they were just as bad as her energy burns. Izzy’s the only one she ever felt the need to explain the difference to. His curiosity was always humorous to her.

The fact that the water was ice cold made the next part easier. Keeping thoughts in her mind to ground her to reality, Mardea submerged herself completely in the tub.

Green wisps flowed out from her palms. Interacting with the water, they went to work cooling her down and resolving her burns. A waterlogged scream escaped her throat, the sensory overload and pain being overwhelming. The burnt skin ripped itself off, attaching to the energy  swirling around it. New unblemished skin replaced it quickly- unnatural if one didn’t have a medic-related quirk.

It felt like hours, but Mardea was done in minutes. The water was grey and heavily clouded when she sat back up, now shivering from the cold. Her stomach churned, and without a moment to react, she vomited into the already dirty water.

“…fuck…” her voice was a quaky whisper. She couldn’t keep going on like this.

The push and pull of energy forces from within herself danced with the outside ones. It was as if something out there wanted her to lose control, wanted Code Black to become the new normal.

The water-vomit mixture spiraled down the drain. Mardea waited until the tub was empty before fighting for strength to rinse herself off with the shower.

Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

-----

“But consider the reverse!” Kaminari shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, “If you had a human head and a bird body, all the villains would be too scared to fight and you could round ‘em up easy!”

“Easily,” Tokoyami corrected, pulling his hoodie as he stood up to leave, “And that is utterly ridiculous.”

Sero set his coffee down, “Does that mean if Hawks was reversed he’d have a bird body and human arms on his back?!”

“Holy. Shit. Dude.” Kaminari looked like he had an epiphany, “That would be…terrifying. I love it.”

Ashido slammed her hands flat on the table, “KIRI WOULD BE A ROCK THAT TURNS INTO A BALL OF FLESH!”

“Noooooo,” Kirishima groaned, leaning back with his hands on his face, “I was already a ball of flesh in the hero test! Unpleasant, 0 out of 10 do not recommend.”

Sero giggled, “Guys, guys listen… Bakugo… Is an explosion that throws out humans.”

An eruption of laughter consumed the living room of the dorms. The noise echoed into the hallway leading to the stairs.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kirishima wiped a tear from his eye, “Does, ehehehe, does that mean that mean that he’s a continuous explosion or like, hah, one out of every 5 explosions is Bakugo randomly spurting out humans to attack villains.”

The laughter quieted, giving the group time to think, then Ashido spoke, “Can you imagine if the latter was true? Like, if you’re a villain using C4 to break into a bank then suddenly ‘I AM A VERY ANGRY EXPLOSION HAVE SOME HUMANS TO THE FACE!’ Bruh, I’d shit my pants.”

“What about the former?” A sudden appearance of Lin behind Kaminari made him jump and spill his cereal. “If he’s a continuous explosion he’d have to be put in a container to function as a ‘human’ in society. Imagine shoving Boom-boy into a reinforced Smucker’s jam jar.”

The laughter resumed. Kirishima looked up to ask Lin a question, “Hey, what if- wait. Lin you’re glowing.”

A brief panic, “Wh- no I’m not.” She looked herself over, “I’m not outputting any en-“

“No! Your skin is radiant,” A cheeky smile, “Did you do a new skincare routine from YouTube?”

A pause, “…Yes…that’s what I did.”

Ashido’s eyes sparkled, “DEAAAAAA you gotta show me!”

“Maybe later, after you bring your grade to a B.” She winked, “Anyway, I’m hungry, see ya later.” Lin meandered over to the kitchen, where Uraraka was making what smelled like waffles.

“… aaaand voila!” Uraraka flailed her arms in a dramatic manner, “A Together Breakfast!” The platter was filled with waffles topped with syrup, whipped cream, popcorn, and strawberries.

“Wow!” Midoriya’s stomach rumbled, “This looks great! Thank you!”

She giggled, “I made enough for everyone so dig in!” She gestured to those surrounding the counter. “Let our Saturday breakfast tradition begin!”

Lin leaned on Todoroki’s shoulder, the sudden contact startling him, “It’s just me, don’t worry.”

“Hello, love,” He tilted his head to lean on hers, “Sleepy?”

“Sore…”

“Training yesterday was that rough?”

“…Yes.” She straightened. Her silent body language purposely telling him that she didn’t wanna talk about it in front of the others. “My whole body feels vulnerable and tender. Like one touch will bruise for days.”

“Take it easy today, then,” He smiled, “Eat something to regain your strength.” A soft kiss to her head, reminding her that they can talk privately later.

“Hey Frick and Frack, save the PDA for when we’re not eating,” Bakugo sat on the counter, munching on toast with tomato and cheese slices on top. “You’re gonna make me puke.”

“Your taste in breakfast food will make me puke,” Midoriya stuck out his tongue.

“Says fucking you. Who eats shitty popcorn for breakfast?”

“It’s not popcorn, it’s pepcorn!” Uraraka tossed a kernel at the blonde, “Popcorn with a pep!”

Bakugo scowled, staring the group down. He swiped the kernel away from him, “You’re not original, this is all from YouTube.”

“Stop being such a fucking killjoy,” Jirou slammed her glass of juice down on the counter. “We get it, your aesthetic is to hate everything and think you’re the best. Don’t you get tired of having your head so far up your own ass? Huh?”

“I’m done,” Lin backed away and turned towards the hallway. “It’s too early for arguing.”

Yaoyorozu stood up, “Mardea, don’t go! We were gonna go out today! The Saturday Flea Market is up in the plaza across town!”

Fuck I forgot “Yeah, right…. Lemme put on proper ‘going out’ clothes.” A snap and she was gone in a green flash.

------

“Isn’t this fun! Nice to stretch our legs on a sunny day off.” Momo did a little spin, flowing out the bottom of her sunflower sundress.

Tsuyu joined the twirling, though her green romper left little to flow out. “Ribbit, it’s the perfect temperature today. I bet the pools will be packed.”

“Whaddaya think, ‘Dea?” Mina, clad in her pastel blue crop top and matching shorts, “Should we try swimming today or just mingle in the market?”

Mardea thought a moment, “Market wandering sounds good for now. Plus I didn’t bring a swimsuit- I doubt jean overalls would fair well in a pool.”

“Hmm, fair point.” Mina skipped ahead, stopping at a sunglasses stall. The sun reflected off them, making the products glitter and look more enticing.

Mardea glanced around the crowd. Mina was at that stall, whereas Tsuyu and Momo had been lost to the growing population of the market. The tips of her hair shifted to magenta. Her eyes scanned the scenery. Where were their energy signatures?

“Nice trick,” Mardea froze at the unfamiliar voice behind her, magenta instantly switching to lilac, “Color shifting is good for quick blending into crowds, though I feel that this little cosmetic show is a front for your quirk.”

It was a feminine sounding voice- maybe an older woman who smoked on occasion?

“I can feel your thoughts from back here, pumpkin.” A warm hand gripped her right shoulder, “You don’t have to turn around, I know who you are, Mardea. Don’t you think it’s strange that I snuck up on you with your magenta setting on?”

The lilac grew.

“You don’t need to be afraid. I want to help you. There’s a lot of energy in this world, you know. How would it be to not feel like it’ll crush you at any moment? What if you could control it? Not your definition of control- you still let that Code Black sit alone, festering. What if you could harness it?”

“Hey ‘Dea?” Mina’s voice called out, “We got lunch! Where ya at?”

“I will find you again,” The hand left, “Be wary, Mardea. You’re not the only one who knows energy.”

Momo came through the people, “Guys! She’s over here!” She turned, smiling, “Where have you- oh my god are you okay? You’re purple-y.”

Mardea looked up, eyes matching her hair, “We need to leave. Now.”

“Okay yeah. Yeah.” Momo took her twin’s hand, “You’re okay now. We’re here.” Mina and Tsuyu emerged, confused at the color shift. Momo pointed at them, “We’re leaving. Now. Back to UA.”

-----

“You’re sure it was a woman?” Aizawa sat across from Lin in his office.

Lin shrugged, “That what she sounded like. She snuck up on me, didn’t let me turn around.” She pulled her shirt collar over to expose her shoulder, “She bruised me when she grabbed me.”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, “How did she do that?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Lin’s stress boiled over, red and lilac strands forming in her hair, “I don’t know who she is all I know is I didn’t sense her and she said I wasn’t the only one who knew energy and that she’s gonna find me again and I don’t know how to not let that happen because if I cant find her then no one can find her probably like how-” A gasp of air, hair returning to normal, as Aizawa grabbed her shoulders, kneeling in front of her.

“You need to calm down.” His voice was calm. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not going to tell you to not worry, because I know you will anyway. All the teachers will be on the lookout for suspicious women around campus. I’ll let the Pro-Heroes know that this happened and see if they can snoop out anything. Okay?”

“Okay…” She leaned forward, hugging him with tears in her eyes, “Thank you…”

A smile, “It’s okay.”

#mardea lin #original character #bnha #shoto torodoki #katsuki bakugo #denki kaminari #kirishima ejirou #mina ashido #tsuyu asui #tokoyami fumikage #sero hanta #momo yaoyorozu #aizawa sensei #yaaaaaall im back on my mardea bullshit #today is the beginning of the end #or is it????? #hehe #basically i have the end scene on loop in my head #writing to get to that #love when my dreams spark fics

[alicepink-me]

The New Guardian

Story Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an adult in the real world, guarding the Miracle Box in Master Fu's place. She's in love with Chat Noir, but refuses to tell him her feelings. New holders appear to fight the duo and shake up their lives. Marinette makes a tough decision about her future as Ladybug.

Chapter 10: Sparring

Day 2:

Marinette was completely passed out in her bed. Her physical days start a lot later than the educational ones and three to four extra hours of sleep is well appreciated. Some much history yesterday that she could easily sleep all day today. She's lucky they didn't add beginner fighting and martial arts classes to her schedule. They said since Marinette's already been Ladybug for years, she's basically passed that level. So now there's the basic twice a day miraculous group training and they added a single class at the end of the day for guardian training.

Marinette weirdly felt something touch her nose. She twitched in her sleep, squeezing her eyes tighter. She felt it again and her eyes shot open to see two green ones staring back at her.

"Cat!" Marinette shot up, surprised by a long haired, fluffy, black cat in her lap. She panted, her heart racing as she turned to her roommate who was still in bed.

"Oh that's Jenn." April announced, flipping a page in her book.

"You have a cat? How did I not know you have a cat; I live here?" Marinette slid to the edge of her bed, holding the friendly fur ball.

"I always compel her to stay away from guests for the first day they appear or until I command her otherwise." April stated, looking back to her book.

"How did you compel her?" Marinette asked. "Is that your miraculous or something?"

"Yeah. I can compel people." Jenn jumped over to April. "I had to request it from my teacher though since, well they probably didn't tell you since they'd love to watch you slip up, but we aren't allowed to use our miraculous outside of class. It's a very strict policy that would result in expulsion if they aren't followed. There are regulations and students shouldn't possess that much power, especially outside of class. If they do not learn that discipline now, they don't deserve that power later."

"Well they definitely didn't tell me that." Marinette said. "The only reason I didn't use mine was because I didn't want to face my kwami, but I guess I'll have to today."

"It's good practice." April continued. "The day I compelled Jenn, I learned how to compel nonhuman beings, or at least some of them. So if you ever get chased by a bear and nearly die, I'm your go to friend to have."

"Okay, I'll try to remember that." Marinette laughed. "I'll think of that next time Ladybug has to fight someone, if I survive all of my classes today."

"At least your group is more power based. Mine is more often quiet and intimidating." April pet the cat. "My classmates could more easily be supervillains."

"Really?" Marinette slid out of her covers. "How are these groups even decided? Seems you know more about mine than I do."

"Once students turn fourteen, the temple decides their path afterwards based on their skillset and strengths. Different groups qualify for certain miraculouses. That girl, Ginger, that you fought in Paris, was placed in an artistic group early on and that aided her future pollen powers. She enjoyed and excelled at drawing, so an artistic miraculous was preferred for her." April explained. "I was chosen for a sociology/psychology type because I am apparently excellent at understanding people, which explains why my power relates to brain function and memory."

"So what's my group about?"

"Well I haven't seen your schedule, but Rebekah has already slipped a few rumors and I heard you're in a power based class." April rolled her eyes. "Your class would be set up for leading miraculous holders, such as you and Chat Noir. Every Miracle Box has a center triple, duo or single miraculous that leads or connects the others in battle. The leaders compliment each other, but if they go down in battle, their team could face major peril and horror. Your group spends class sparing and analyzing attacks like everyone else, but they put in mind a team. You will have team scenarios, group sparing, and investigation strategies. You'll strengthen your powers and become a leader."

"Okay, that explains my class, but what's this about Rebekah?" Marinette looked confused. "She's spreading rumors?"

"Like fire."

"She seemed so nice."

"Nah, Rebekah spews most of the rumors at this academy since she's the entire welcoming comittee. She gets all the inside info and has strong ties with the council, so she's the go-to person if you need to know something." April sighed. "But Rebekah has it out for me so she may make your experience a little harder for you to deal with."

"Oh, what did you do?" Marinette smiled.

"I'll have you know I am a very nice person, so don't think I tormented her or something." April said, moving Jenn and hopping off the bed. "Rebekah is the runner up for my miraculous. If I die or turn bad for some reason, my power is passed on to her." April opened her closet and slid her book on the top shelf. "There are around a hundred students of each age and very few gain a miraculous when they finish their courses. Many drop before they get that farm but the ones that aren't chosen for a miraculous, are sent out to the real world to either give up or wait on standby. They can be used for information around the world or as backups." Marinette was about to say something, but April stopped her. "I had a high number of twelve students receive a miraculous in my graduating class. Rebekah was furious that she wasn't one of them and was embarrassed to be labeled a backup, so instead of leaving, she stayed and got a job here as the tour guide/welcoming committee in order to keep an eye on me. Rebekah is practically breathing down my neck, even if she denies it, just so that she can be the first one to see me slip up and she can be the first one to report it to council. And then she'll pray for my expulsion."

"Wow." Marinette's eyes widened.

"They're all a bunch of snakes here." April said, closing her closet. "What did you expect? This temple breeds competition."

"I thought you read my diary?" She chuckled. "You should know by now that I didn't think any of this through." Marinette picked up her alarm clock and sighed. She looked back at Jenn and set the clock down. "I have an hour and forty five minutes left to sleep and now that I know you have a cat, hopefully there won't be anymore surprises." Marinette grabbed her covers and threw them over her head.

. . .

"Okay, this is your day 2 class." Rebekah smiled, turning around. The two stopped at a door. It was a lot quieter than the history classes. Maybe it was class size or maturity. Marinette didn't know whether to be happy or afraid. "After your morning class, you'll return here later at two o'clock. And since my job as your temple tour guide is officially finished, I believe this is goodbye for now." Rebekah wiped a fake tear. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"Yeah." Marinette rolled her eyes before she saw. Knowing that Rebekah's spreading rumors made their interactions a lot more awkward. "I should go inside now."

Marinette pretended to smile and turned away, stepping inside. The room felt cold and still. She looked around to see fifteen other people all around the room, stretching. One girl did a backbend while another guy did a handstand. The room was black with a large window on one side, showing the mountain view. The students seemed like ballerinas and a little dramatic with their stretching. Their stares burnt holes in her skin. Good thing April had advised Marinette to wear gym clothes. She opted for gray leggings and a black tank top. Marinette set her purse down in one corner and slid to the floor. She tried to blend in as she stretched but the others still watched from the corners of their eyes. They all seemed like aggressive try hards. One girl fell into a split, emotionless.

"No need to worry. I made it everyone." A women said, walking in with a large iced coffee. She wore black rimmed glasses and a button up shirt with a long cardigan. Her hair was in a messy bun. "The line was extra long this morning." She sipped her coffee.

The class looked up for a second, but didn't acknowledge her. They expressionlessly sat up from their stretches, slowly paying attention.

The woman checked her bag. "So for today's sparring lesson I've brought some things to make it a little more interesting, but . . . " She looked up and smiled. "We have a new student." Every head turned to Marinette as her eyes widened. "Now Marinette, you can call me Ms. Fell." Marinette thought she'd die. Everyone was staring at her. She thought she could sneak by, but not if the teacher calls her out. "Before I get into a new lesson, I want to have some of my students demonstrate some of the basics that we cover and then I'll give you a chance at a free spare."

"Thanks." Marinette said awkwardly.

"Great." Ms. Fell smiled before turning to the other side. "Damon and Clove, you two can start us off."

Two students stood and moved to the center of the room. They each took a deep breath before quickly forming a fighting stance, their eyes focusing. Their demeanors changed, emitting hostility. Clove threw the first punch, Damon catching it before twisting in behind her. Clove kicked him in the jaw causing him to let go as she landed in a hand stand. Damon fell to the ground but swiped his legs under her. Clove hopped up in time, returning to a stand. Damon stood as well, rubbing his jaw. The two circled each other.

"Find a weak spot." Ms. Fell said, walking next to them. "Look for an opening, even small."

Damon darted forward and punched Clove in the stomach. Marinette's eyes widened. These students were viscous. They could kill each other. Damon shifted behind Clove and pulled her ponytail, dragging her towards the floor. Clove winced in pain, but quickly shook it off. She leaned into his motion and did a backbend. Her hair tie fell to the ground, waving her hair loose. She lifted her legs into a handstand before falling back, her legs wrapping around his neck. In a swift motion she flipped Damon on the ground, her ankles crossing to lock in place. Damon couldn't move and Clove held her stance for a few seconds before releasing.

"Very nice you two." Ms. Fell said. "Good idea, Damon, to go for the hair and Clove, that was a smart way to escape it and correct yourself."

The two stood, Damon rubbing his throat and Clove pushing her hair back. They shook hands calmly. Clove grabbed her hair tie as they both walked back to their spots.

"Okay, Marinette, now that you get the idea, I'd like to see you try sparring against my students, just to get an idea of your skillset." Ms. Fell said.

"Sure." Marinette stood anxiously.

"And lucky for you, I already have a volunteer." Ms. Fell smiled. Marinette turned to see a girl from another corner stand up and immediately recognized her dark brown hair. "Have you met Priya?"

"Yeah." Marinette's eyes widened.

"We did yesterday, Ms. Fell." Priya smiled. " And I just knew that me and Marinette would be great friends, so I thought maybe we should try getting to know each other better since we're in the same class. What better than sparring?"

"Wonderful! That sounds like a great idea, Priya." Ms. Fell replied, backing to the wall. "No let's see what you two can do." She drank her iced coffee.

Marinette gulped as she walked to the center of the room. Priya had a maniacal smile on her face and eyes with a death wish. Marinette took a deep breath, but before she could react, Priya punched her in the gut. She coughed. The wind was knocked out of her as she hunched over.

"You don't belong here." Priya growled.

Marinette looked up miserably. Priya swung at her, but Marinette caught it in her other hand and pushed her back. Marinette clutched her stomach as she straightened. Priya smiled before kicking her foot up. Marinette ducked under it and bounced up with an uppercut. Priya fell to the ground, Marinette stepping closer. Before Marinette could fight, Priya flipped backwards in a roll so she was on her hands and knees. She smirked before monstrously crawling towards Marinette, snatching her ankle. Priya yanked before standing up, Marinette hitting the floor with a bang. Priya stepped on Marinette's wrist while still gripping her ankle. Luckily, Marinette was flexible.

"This isn't dance class." Marinette taunted, staring up at her.

Priya stayed serious. "Maybe you're in the wrong place then, Dupain-Cheng. Dancing around your opponent is a skill necessary to find their weak spots."

Marinette fought against her weight with no avail. "Even if you find my weak spots, you will not outsmart me." Priya's eye twitched. "My careless actions are actually well thought out."

Priya leaped forward, her fist smacking the ground where Marinette's head used to be. Without a hold on her anymore, Marinette rolled away, regaining a firm stance. She crawled a foot closer, grinning.

"You're too impatient to think through your attacks." Marinette said. "You won't last very long in a-"

Priya shoved her foot at Marinette, cracking her right in the nose. "You talk too much."

Marinette hit the back of her head against the floor, knocking her out. Priya stood up as Ms. Fell ran over.

She examined her. "Marinette will be fine." Ms. Fell said, holding the girl's head. "I wish she would have lasted longer. I was so interested to see a new fighting style."

"Seems she isn't cut out to be here if she can't even handle a little combative sparring." Priya snarled.

"Now that's not a way to think about a classmate." Ms. Fell said, standing up. "Marinette is new and far more experienced than the rest of us, but that doesn't guarantee she will excel at our daily routines that she has never gone through. This is new to her and all we can ask for is for her to try."

"But she's been fighting out in the real world." Priya argued. "This class should be nothing to her."

"And you two could end up on the same team once you both are done training." Ms. Fell crossed her arms. "If you walk in any room with that attitude, then you could never handle being on a team out in the real world yourself. Think differently from here on out or you'll stand by and watch her progress faster and pass you up in no time without even breaking a sweat."

Priya huffed, her nostrils flaring. She walked back to her corner to watch the next sparring session.

. . .

Marinette staggered back to her dorm, holding an icepack against her nose. It hurt worse than the back of her head smacking the floor. When she came to, Ms. Fell handed her an ice pack and told her not to return for the second session today. She was also instructed to rest up for the next physical day, cue the embarrassment when she returns.

Marinette remembered her entire fight with Priya and didn't know whether to be angry or embarrassed. She lost horribly, but to be fair, Priya had knocked her unconscious. She didn't know if that was allowed or not, but something about that class just didn't seem right for her. The training is fine, but the competition is debilitating. April was right when she said the competition is surreal and insane.

Even the other sparring matches were crazy. Those students are so driven to win that they move like emotionless, acrobatic zombies. Marinette was starting to enjoy the temple, even if it meant beginning at the bottom of the food chain, but she knew one thing, she didn't want to be those students. Marinette wanted to gain strength and better usage of her miraculous, but her humanity is a must. That can't vanish.

"Maybe things will get better." Marinette hoped. She reached her dorm room and fumbled with her keys before opening the door. She can adjust and she can change things, but it was never going to be easy.

#miraculous ladybug #MIRACULOUS: TALES OF LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR #marinette dupain cheng #Adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #emotions #conflict #romance #feelings #miraculous #fanfiction #alice pink #alicepink-me #the new guardian