#backpack hero curses

[undertalehuman]

[backpack hero] my greatest build yet

so basically every time i use the bottom king's shield, the spiked crowns are triggered and deal 1 damage each to me. when that happens, BOTH my king's shields trigger (PER SPIKED CROWN) and add 1 rage each and 3 spikes from lower then 9 spikes from upper king's shield plus the cactus' 3 spikes plus the 1 spikes from the actual spiked crowns, all because that 1 damage being dealt to me is considered “attacking” me. that adds up to 160 spikes and 16 rage. per single use of the lower king's shield. in addition to that, my lower king's shield has +3 haste, and 2 guard rings (also the brick i have has +1 haste) so that's quite a bit of extra block PER USE OF MY SHIELD. and i get 25 energy turn 1. living rocks' damage increases based on rage. so whatever survives my THOUSANDS OF SPIKES PER TURN dies to my rocks. i call my masterpiece of a backpack... "the raging pacifist named david" (in reference to david from the story of david and goliath, when david defeated goliath with a rock since my only output of non-spike damage is thru rocks, plus i use no real weapons and i get a lot of rage.)

basically lots of spikes and haste and rage for rocks but no weapons.

this is an old explanation i made (the essentials are the same) but in my current version i have 2 cacti and 1 more energy from ore. not that big of a difference but still.

#backpack hero combo #backpack hero curses #backpack hero build #backpack hero #roguelike

[queenpiranhadon]

Can you do a bakugou x reader, they share a moment together like on a trip to the beach with the class or something like an situation like there have to share a hotel room which cause them to have to talk or spend time together?

A/N: Lmao this look way longer than it should've- I beg for forgiveness 😭 Here's my masterlist!!

Warning(s): cursing, takes place during third year, reader and Shinso are apart of the hero course after being apart of general studies, reader has a mentioned and explained quirk, reader is in class 1-A, Shinso is in class 1-B, close friends to eventual lovers, Bakugou's a secret rom com lover, reader is gn but is written with f!reader in mind, not proofread D: + anything else I forgot

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴅᴜᴍʙᴀꜱꜱ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

You know the feeling when you’ve been working so hard that when you finally take a break, it feels wrong? 

That’s how you felt- right now- staring at the towering resort in front of you.  

You were more than grateful for the effort the school put in to accumulate the funding for a beach trip for the entire hero course- something the other courses envied you all for, and in all honesty, you would gladly give up your spot for any one of them. It was your third year, a stressful time given that you were about to become fully fledged heroes by the time you all graduated in a few weeks – something you found ironic since you and your classmates have already seen more action than the average pro hero.  

Though the circumstances were a little different for you, as you had joined the hero course later in the school year following Hitoshi Shinso, who joined Class 1-B. You were put in Class 1-A to keep the classes balances, allowing your dream to come true to become a pro alongside the others.  

Your quirk, Eviscerate, let you release powerful blasts of pure kinetic energy that could destroy, explode and burn. Though while it was no doubt powerful, it was unstable, and dangerous. When you first got your quirk, you destroyed half of your home while sleeping, and the following doctors appointment suggested getting you a permanent support equipment that would act as a muzzle on your quirk to keep in contained.  

However the company that supplied the gear was unreliable and neutralized your quirk to the point where it was practically useless. From then on, you used gear to amplify your quirk instead of restrict it, and yet, though the blasts had the same effects they used to, they would sap large chunks of your energy the more powerful the blast was, which is why you passed out after taking out 7 robots during the entrance exam and ended up enrolling in General Studies, despite your potential. 

Once you managed to get into the hero course, you were paired with train with a certain Bakugou Katsuki, who was quite experienced in the explosions department and helped you develop your special moves. Bakugou pushed you to not only become a better hero but a better person, yelling at you to take care of yourself and scolding you if you didn’t drink enough water when you felt dizzy after training.  

You two had grown considerably close due to that, and you felt more comfortable within Class 1-A, never feeling left out despite your late arrival. 

And to be honest, you couldn’t help but harbor some feelings for the blonde too.  

Now, here you were, standing in front of one of the most luxurious beachside resorts in all of Japan.  

Dragging your suitcase and backpack, you gather in the lobby alongside your classmates, awaiting Aizawa Sensei’s instructions.  

The ravenette in question pulled out his phone and starts to read out the sleeping arrangements.  

“Ashido and Hagakure, Shinso and Tokoyami, Midoriya and Todoroki, Asui and Uraraka...” he drones on monotonously, and your brain subconsciously started to tune him out until a pair of names catches your attention.  

“L/N and Bakugou.” 

Almost everyone whips their heads in your direction, and your face turns bright red.  

Bakugou?! 

*** 

Your mind races a million miles a minute. I’m sharing a room with Bakugou?! Shit- what if I’m a bad roommate?! What if he thinks I’m gross! I’m going to have to scrub myself clean every hour now. Damn it I didn’t bring enough body wash to wash every hour of the week. You mentally groan to yourself.  

You see Bakugou heft his bags, grabbing his room key from Aizawa, and you want to melt into the floor. How in the world were you supposed to inconspicuously keep your cool around the man you’ve been crushing on for months?! Especially since you were sharing a room?! 

Sighing, you decide you should probably get your key as well, shifting your bags around, and approaching Aizawa who had your key in his hand.  

Taking it from him with appropriate thanks, you turn around to leave, but you hear his voice, stopping you in his tracks.  

“L/N.” he calls, and you look back at him confused. 

“Yes, Sensei?” you ask warily, wondering what he could be asking you about.  

“You might be wondering why you’re paired with Bakugou.” he paused, choosing his next words carefully. “We assigned rooms based on those who get along decently enough, and though Young Bakugou has most definitely mellowed out over the years, he seems to be the calmest around you.” 

You feel your cheeks subconsciously heat up at the words, warmth spreading in your heart and butterflies erupting in your stomach. Did he really act that way? 

No, he just likes you as a friend, you tell yourself, clearing your throat and looking at your teacher.  

“I understand Sensei. I have no problem rooming with Bakugou-kun.” you smile reassuringly, and the man reciprocates with a wry smile of his own before dismissing you to your room.  

“Go settle in, breakfast buffet closes at 12:30 tomorrow.” he says, grabbing his own suitcase and heading to his shared room with Vlad King.  

You marvel the resort as you make your way to the elevator, ornate marbled floors the color of sea glass accented with gold. Two giant seashells the size of gargoyles stood at both sides of the elevator doors, and you step inside, soft classical music trickling through the space as you stare out the glass wall, observing the many people of the beach, and clear aquamarine waters that looked crystalline. It was...beautiful. 

You hear a ding, marking your arrival to the 8th floor, where you and the rest of Class 1-A were sleeping, except for Tokoyami, who slept on the 7th floor alongside Class 1-B. 

The floors were carpeted, a nice burgundy with simple gold waves that ran throughout the length of the hallway, simple, but elegant.  

Trailing your eyes alongside the doors, you find the door you were looking for, Room 1076. 

You fumble with the key card, pressing against the small black sensor by the door handle, hearing the beep that signaled it was unlocked, and you open it, taking in your surroundings. 

There was a large painting of two seahorses, with their tails intertwined, hung in between the beds. The beds themselves were draped with such fancy comforters that looked like clouds, you almost didn’t want to sleep on them in fear of ruining it.  

“Oi, close yer mouth, yer gonna catch flies.” you hear a familiar voice behind you, whipping around to come face to face with a pair of vermillion eyes.  

“Oh Bakugou!” you laugh nervously “I didn’t see you there.” 

He rolls his eyes, grabbing your backpack from your shoulders forcefully and plops it onto the nearby chair, effectively flinging you backwards in the process. 

“Gah! Ah shit-” you yelp, falling backwards and losing your footing, only for strong arms to wrap around your waist and yanking you back just in time to narrow avoid breaking a very expensive looking vase.  

Looking up you see Bakugou’s eyes on you, an impassive look on his face. 

A few beats of silence pass before you burst out into laughter, Bakugou forced to shift your form in order to not have to fall over again from the ferocity of your heaving giggles.  

“Pfft- you should’ve seen your face - you were like rahhhh and I was like AHHH” you rambled, finding it difficult to breathe as your muscles painfully stretched to accommodate how much you were smiling.  

You feel a hand rest on top of your hand, effectively silencing you as Bakugou clicks his teeth impatiently. 

“Tch- calm down dumbass, ya just got here and yer already trying ta destroy the place.” he grumbles, the tips of his ears turning red. “Aizawa said we can call up room service for free- let's order some dinner and watch a movie or some shit. I’m fuckin exhausted.”  

You smile brightly, shoving down the butterflies that erupt in your stomach, and nod.  

“Sounds good! You order and I’ll find something to put on.” you beam, flopping down on the bed closest to you, deciding that it was going to get messed up anyways. “Just don’t get anything too spicy. I’m not a weakling obviously, but you’re probably going to manage burning off my taste buds one way or another.” 

Bakugou rolls his eyes again, flipping you off and receiving and indignant Hey! from you, walking over to the bedside table to dial room service on the provided phone.  

Flipping through the channels, you surf through various news programs and sports broadcasts, already missing your easily accessible streaming services back home. Finally, you find a cheesy rom com you were familiar with, thankfully the timing was perfect, seeing as the movie’s opening credits roll through. The quality was surprisingly good, you thought happily to yourself, but given that you were staying in such a high-end resort, you shouldn’t be surprised.  

You make yourself comfortable, mentally high fiving yourself for deciding to wear sweatpants and a t-shirt that morning, so you didn’t feel the need to change into your pajamas just yet.  

Bakugou hangs up on the phone with a gruff salutation, sitting on his own bed adjacent to yours and raises his eyebrows at your choice of movie.  

“This one? Really?” he asks, frowning slightly and you quirk up an eyebrow in return.  

“It was all I could find, plus I know you like this one. You have the book copy of it you nerd.” you smile teasingly.  

Bakugou’s ears turn red at the realization that you noticed his guilty pleasure of reading romance novels, chucking a pillow in your direction in retaliation.  

“So what? Movie’s shit.” he grumbles, turning to watch the male lead being introduced. “S’true for all of em. Books are way better.” 

You sigh, disgruntled as the pillow hits you in the face and falls off your bed out of reach. You did really want to throw it back at him, but right now, you were just too lazy. 

“Stop being such a sourpuss.” you gripe, letting your arms dangle off the side of the bed as you lie on your stomach. “Obviously books are more accurate, but just try to enjoy a classic movie as if it were a standalone.” 

The blonde sighs, making himself comfortable on his bed without another word, vermillion eyes locking themselves on the screen, just as the female lead complains to her best friend that her crush won’t like her back. He knew it was a dumb movie, just by looking at the male lead’s interactions with her, it was clear he was in love with her. Were people always so dense when it came to a guy’s feelings? 

His eyes wander in your direction, watching you doze off , face half smushed against the edge of the bed. Sighing, he gets up, grumbling as he realizes his foot fell asleep, but works through the pain as he makes his way to your side, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.  

He places the remote on the bedside table and lifts you gently, adjusting the pillows and rearranging the comforter to safely tuck you in. However you weren’t fully asleep, your eyes blinking blearily as you weakly protest.  

“No...not yet...” you mumble, frowning softly, and Bakugou resists the urge to smooth the cute crinkle between your furrowed eyebrows “Food’s going to waste...” 

The blonde chuckles quietly, eyes softening as he tucks a strand of of loose hair away from your face. “S’not a problem dummy, I didn’t order anything. Knew ya were gonna pull this shit. We'll eat a big breakfast tomorrow.” 

You nod sleepily in agreement, as he turns away to get ready for bed himself, only to be stopped by the feeling on your hand loosely wrapped around his wrist. 

“Bakugou?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” 

His cheeks are tinted red, clearly flustered, not that you noticed, too tired to pick up on really anything. 

“I...” 

“I love you too dumbass.” 

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #bakugo fluff #bakugo headcanons #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader fluff

[saintmuses]

❝𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡❞

Pairing:

Neil Lewis x Jonathan’s Sister!Reader

Summary:

Having a crush on her brother’s best friend who displayed awkward loser vibes did not match the trope of being with a college cheerleader like her, and he did not feel the same way about her or so she thought.

Warning(s): SMUT. Oral (f-receiving). Mutual pining. Minors, dni! Note: the lyric is from Cruel Summer, and I kid you not if you do not realize what the lyric means; to put it in a simple explanation, this fic will say it all.

Word Count: 1.1k

Y/N did not have time for this. She groaned internally as she walked on the sidewalk with a brown backpack slung on her back. 

She got called by her annoying brother, Jonathan, who needed her to bring his backpack which he had forgotten when he came over for the weekend.

Her schedule had been filled with cheerleading practice, competitions, and Friday football nights that had been gruesome. On top of that, she took honor classes at college with endless homework. She was surprised she was able to find time to bring Jonathan’s backpack.

Being twenty-one and in her last year of college had opened a lot of opportunities and experiences that she could gather for years to look back on.

She wanted to be a writer. Ever since she was a little girl, she used to write in her little journals until the pen would run out of ink or when there weren't any fresh blank pages for her to fill out. She would write childhood fantasies of how princesses would save themselves. To be their own heroes every now and then. 

"Y/N," she heard her brother calling out from the side of the building as she entered Gumshoe Video store. She sighed before sauntering over when she saw Jonathan waving with a grin plastered on his face with someone sitting on the couch next to the one where her brother was sitting on.

She blushed when her eyes landed on the man who was sitting with a plastic disposable cup with dark liquid in it. 

She had an enormous crush on Neil Lewis. The owner of the store who happened to be her brother’s best friend but being insecure didn't really allow her to pursue him.

He was a definition of awkward loser type, but he really was a film buff. Classic movies was his turf, and if her friends found out about her crush on an ‘awkward loser’, they would make fun of her for it because liking guys like Neil was an illegal unspoken law in friend groups. Women that he dated never really appreciated him as who he was, but her…oh she would treat him so well. However, she doubted he was into her.

Yes, that would give her a reason to avoid Neil despite Jonathan’s attempt to hang out with her while he was around.

However, this is one time she was not able to avoid him since she did not know he was going to be with Jonathan.

"Hey," she smiled shyly once she was standing in front of them, flushing slightly when she caught his smirk in her peripheral vision. She silently cursed her inner schoolgirl crush.

Her lips curled around his name in an inaudible gasp as she fingered her clit lightly, arching her back in pleasure, the sound emitting from her throat.

It was later that night after she got back from the campus, her parents left her a note saying they were out of the town for the weekend, so she couldn't handle the tension that was thrumming through her body at the sight of Neil earlier.

A foreign finger slid from the bottom of her slit to the bundle of nerves, circling around it in a way that had her arching off the bed.

She then stiffened, consciously knowing that a hand that wasn't hers had sent her into a spin, and her eyes shot open to see blue eyes reflecting hers with the curl of a smirk painted on his lips. He raked his fingers up her dripping slit before he withdrew his hand, reaching for his mouth with his glistened fingers, with eye contact between them causing her to moan.

After sliding his fingers out of his mouth, his lips curled. "Thinking about me, weren't you." He asked rhetorically as he hovered her form.

Her eyes flickered, "Neil." She let out an audible gasp while flushing deeply. Arms raising with intentions of covering herself from him which was halted by his hands.

"Don't" he said softly, letting her wrists go. He then raked his eyes from her face to her breasts, "you're beautiful." He said hungrily.

"How did you get in here?" She frowned, flushing deeply at the lust that was shone in his blue eyes.

He gave her a lazy grin, "Jonathan told me there's a key under the flowerpot." He slowly reached between her thighs, “he wanted me to drop the bike off since he’s going out tonight.” His eyes flickered downward, inhaling the heady scent that was all her. Flames began to lick her spine at his brief action. “I decided to come in here and hang out with you…” he trailed off, licking his lips. “Shockingly, I came into this predicament.”

He then started to move his finger upward until it grazed her clit. Her hips jerked as she bit down her bottom lip to keep the keen noise from escaping her throat.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispered, leaning over her before he captured her lips with his. 

She moaned into the kiss, closing her eyes. It was filled with ferocious intensity as if he'd been wanting to kiss her. She then felt him parting his lips ever so slightly before his tongue reached to trace her bottom lip.

She gasped into his mouth, allowing his tongue to battle dominance with her tongue. She felt his fingers curling around her kneecaps before sliding downward towards her thighs to pry them apart, then he withdrew from her lips. 

She inhaled slowly before exhaling to gain control over her breathing that was disrupted by his passionate kiss. Before she could open her eyes, a gasp tore from her lungs when she felt the heat of his tongue sliding through her slit.

Her eyes immediately trained onto the man whose head is in between the juncture of her thighs, her stomach quivered at the sight. She never had anyone going down on her before, but it felt so good coming from him.

She felt his tongue swirling around her clit before a heavy sensation of pleasure rolled through her body when his lips parted and started sucking lightly between his lips.

A whine tore from her lungs, throwing her head back into the pillow. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her hips arched off the bed, mostly towards his mouth.

"Fuck," she groaned. He slowed down his ministrations before withdrawing from her thighs. "Neil..." she trailed off, opening her eyes.

A grin curled his lips, his eyes were heavily lidded with lust as he stared down at her, "don't worry, baby. We're not done yet."

#neil lewis x reader #cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis x you #neil lewis x y/n #watching the detectives #neil lewis

[thehusbandoden]

Burnt -Dabi x Reader

A/n: felt angsty lol. I'll write an alternative ending or maybe a second part soon~! <3

General info:

Genre: pure angst \\ wc: 1,224 \\ posted: 01/03/2024

Summary: you gave the love of your life too many chances already. But this time? He crossed a line.. a line that should have never been crossed.

Warnings!: pure angst, no happy ending, spoilers of Dabi's backstory, Dabi's real name, arguing, toxicity, crying, mention of blood, suggested abusive childhood, trauma, gaslighting, manipulating, being badly insulted, being unable to apologize, flinching, being physically harmed, break up, shame, guilt, annd I think that's it! Pls let me know if I miss anything! <33

Alternative Ending- More Than Life Itself (Dw he doesn't get away with it, but it's fluff/comfort!)

Hurt coursed through your being as you glared at your beloved, biting your lip in pent up anger. “Why can’t you just trust me?! I’m not going to hurt you Touya!”  

“Do not call me Touya.” He growled, his hands clenching into fists. “You’ve done nothing but use me. All you ever care about is yourself, you’re a lazy, selfish, manipulative, and flat-out disgusting woman.”  

You open your mouth to retort, but quickly close it, shocked at his words. You only want him to be happy. All you do is provide love, support, shelter, and safety for him. You haven’t left him no matter how many times he’s insulted, manipulated, or gaslit you.  

You gave him shelter in your own home, no matter the risks of police, heroes, or other villains. You sat there as he yelled at you, insulted you, and belittled you.  

But... this? 

This was too far.  

“Do you mean all that?” You murmur, your eyes lowering to the floor. Your lip started to tremble.  

Dabi sneered. “Yes. Every single bit of it.” His turquoise eyes were filled with pure hatred.  

“Then just leave me.” You murmur, your hands shaking.  

“What did you say?” Dabi scoffed.  

“If I’m such a terrible person, just leave me and find someone better.” You spit, your e/c orbs filling with tears.  

“Are you really crying? Pathetic. Maybe I will... I’ll find someone who’s a lot better. She’ll be gorgeous, loving, selfless, and best of all- completely opposite of you.” Dabi snickered, pulling his black combat boots on.  

You don’t say anything. A few tears strayed down your face. Dabi scoffed. “Good.” You whisper. 

Rolling his eyes, Dabi pulls on his long leather jacket and his large backpack stored with all his belongings. He came home only a few hours ago... you tried to tell yourself to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help it... 

“Did you ever even love me?” You whisper, a few more tears joining the first.  

Dabi paused, his turquoise orbs moving to the floor. He doesn’t say anything, hardly even breathing. Silence envelops the two of you for a few moments before he speaks. “I... don’t love anything. Or anyone.”  

More tears fell.  

“So what? I was just- a- a game?” Your voice shook. Your control began to tremble.  

“You were something to pass time.” He muttered, running a large hand through his black hair. “Nothing more.”  

A choked sob broke through your lips. “Nothing? Nothing else at all?”  

“Yes. You were nothing but a stress relief.”  

A second sob followed the first. You could have sworn you saw Dabi’s sneer falter for a mere second.  

“What? Did you really think I could love someone like you?!”  

“Just go. I would wish you misery-” your voice cracks, “-but you’re already cursed. You break whomever and whatever is around you. You destroyed us and you destroyed your fam-" -a loud smack echoed across the room. Everything but you and Dabi’s heavy breathing were heard.  

You stared at the floor, your cheek burning. You couldn’t believe that the man you once loved and trusted could ever do something like this... he was not only cursed- but a liar at that.   

Biting your lip, your tearful eyes meet Dabi’s cold ones. No one other than you wouldn’t be able to tell how he was truly feeling. But you knew that his eyes were full of regret, guilt, and shame. But he wouldn’t apologize. He never would.  

“Get out.” You whisper, clenching your hands into fists. Dabi’s mouth opened ever so slightly.  

“What did you say?” He asked softly.  

“I said get out.” You demand. Tears fell down your face, making your cheek sting further. You silently cursed at your vulnerability.  

“Oh, come on y/n- it wasn’t that big of a deal.” Dabi protested, reaching out to hold you. He was gaslighting you. Again.  

“No! It was that bad! You didn’t only slap me Dabi, you burned me.” Dabi froze, your words finally pulling himself out of his delusional state. His eyes widened as he eyed your bruising cheek- it was not only bruising but burned.  

His face fell in horror. He subconsciously reached his hand to your cheek. You flinch, and he slowly falls apart.  

“Y-y/n- I-I...”  

“Get out. Now.” Your gorgeous e/c orbs hardened in rage, and he finally realized how serious you were.  

“O-okay... I’ll go.” He murmured, moving his heartbroken orbs to the floor. “I don’t want to see you again. Ever.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.  

“E-ever?”  

“Ever. You crossed a line, Dabi.”  

Dabi froze as he heard you call him his villain's name... you always called him Touya... you were serious. He yearned to apologize, to hold you in his arms as he coos at you, to fix everything he ruined.  

His body jerked forward, but he didn’t budge. Opening his mouth, he inwardly screamed at himself to just- do it. The words were at the tip of his tongue. 

Memories of his childhood flashed before his eyes- the screaming, the insults, the endless apologies left ignored, or even punished. Something inside him snapped and he just- broke.  

“Good. I’m glad. I’ll be much better without your pathetic self weighing me down.” He sneered, pushing you aside, sending you scrawling to the floor. “You’re pathetic. Did you think that I loved you?!”  

Another sob broke from your lips. “Out.” 

“Y’know what? Why should I? You get out. I’m staying.”  

“I pay for this apartment Dabi! I buy the groceries, pay the bills, buy the furniture, pay for the repairs- this is my place!”  

“And I’m going to stay. Now either shut up and deal or leave.” Dabi growled. You glared at the man, your fingernails digging into your palms.  

“Dabi- leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome. Not only have you physically harmed me- whom you swore to protect, but you’ve insulted, belittled, and totally disrespected me. I want you out of my apartment by-” you were interrupted by Dabi tightly grabbing your arms, his flames burning into your flesh. Hissing in pain, you push Dabi to the ground. He lets out a loud curse before shooting back up to his feet, glaring at you. His hardened eyes involuntarily softened as he met your teary eyes. His heart stung as he watched you fall into yourself, sobbing.  

Dabi kneeled to the floor, trying to make eye contact with you. “Listen y/n... I-”  

“Leave! Go! I don’t want you or your apology! Leave or I will!” You sob, gripping onto your shirt tightly.  

Dabi’s cold, broken, and at most times invisible heart- shattered.  

He did this to you. He was a monster... he was just like Endeavor.  

Nodding, Dabi stood up. He turned away, walking towards the door. He glanced at you once more before walking out. He could hear your sobs as he closed your front door. He clenched his hands into fists. After a few moments of listening to your wails of betrayal, lost, and hurt, he couldn’t take it anymore.  

He threw a punch to his cheek, cursing himself out as he walked away. Blood streamed from his eyes; his burnt tear ducts burning in agony as his body attempted to cry. 

He insulted you.  

He lied to you.  

He broke you.  

He burnt you.  

And the worst part? 

There was nothing he could do to fix it. 

~~~~~

Dabi's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <;3

~~~~~

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33

Alternative Ending- More Than Life Itself (Dw he doesn't get away with it, but it's fluff/comfort!)

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

#mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #bnha x reader #thehusbandoden #angst #mha angst #pure angst #mha pure angst #bnha x reader angst #x reader angst #x reader pure angst #dabi x reader #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader angst #dabi x reader argument #dabi x reader pure angst #bnha touya #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #mha touya #touya x reader #touya x reader angst #touya x reader pure angst #touya x reader argument #x reader argument #mha x reader angst

[kastalani123]

(if you prefer Ao3)

They learn about it in the slowly bubbling, uncertain high of victory.

She died a hero, Clarisse says, repeats, convinces, closing Drew’s hands around a bracelet far too innocent to make everyone’s hearts sink with just a glance. Its silver colour is barely visible beneath the blood. Drew’s hands were already long slick with crimson. She doesn’t say anything.

(The daughter of Ares tells them the story as they pick up their other fallen siblings. Nobody responds)

Fuchsia with an apple for Anders, seventeen and the loveliest relationship advisor. Lacy only manages a few words through her sobs and tears, her hair still in the intricate but effective braid he had put it in before battle.

Coral with a conch shell for Khalid, twelve with a love for anything one could find at the bottom of the ocean. Valentina grips his stuffed anglerfish so tightly that she almost tears it while making her speech about him.

Salmon with a thorned rose for Ina, fifteen and the best fighter in the cabin. Mitchell can barely stand while talking, choked by having been unable to retrieve more of her than a gnarled arm, recognizable only through the heart-shaped birthmark spanning the back of her hand.

Magenta with a dove for Sawyer, fourteen with the kindest eyes in the world. Drew lays the sword they had never wanted in the fire and watches it melt into perfumed smoke without a word.

Cerise with flowering myrtle for Jasmin, sixteen and the craftiest painter around. Aminah bites her knuckles to the blood in a failed attempt not to cry when the burning paints colour the fire in impossible hues.

… Hot pink with an electric spear for Silena. Clarisse sets the fire with a blank face, dried tear tracks gouging grooves down her cheeks.

(A grief-stained title of cabin counsellor for Drew, fifteen with the weight of her world suddenly on her shoulders. Cabin Ten cannot keep her from turning her head high, eyeliner sharper than it’s been in years.)

----------

It’s not Drew who orders all signs of Silena Beauregard to be scrubbed from the insides of Cabin Ten. 

Instead, Mitchell passes through the cabin while the others haunt around Camp like the ghosts they had avoided becoming. Carefully, carefully, he folds up Silena’s fashionista posters, picks pictures of her off the clothing clips on the strings strung up throughout the cabin, strips her bed of the flower pillows they’d all collaborated to get for her last (final) birthday, collects clothes from her section of shelves and drawers, and packs everything with even a trace of her into the suitcase under his bed. Grief echoes off the bare spaces, sandalwood perfume soaking into the walls, a vestige of one of the many lives struck short these past several days.

His siblings don’t say anything when they finally come and find him curled up on Ina’s bed, clutching her morning star plush like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to his body, the entire cabin missing key elements. Drew starts to get ready for bed, Aminah throws herself onto Jasmin’s bed and shatters, Lacy tears her hair free of Anders’s braid with a wail, and Valentina screams into Khalid’s pillows until her voice is hoarse. Mitchell swears he hears similar sounds from the other cabins.

(Rory comes the next day, backpack full of clothing designs he hadn’t bothered to unpack in his rush upon hearing about the strange happenings in New York. He takes one look at his siblings’ hollowed faces, at the bare beds, at the empty spaces, and breaks, begging for forgiveness for not being there to fight along their sides, for not protecting them like an older brother should, for working on his college projects while they fought and died for the world. Drew scoffs, lips perfectly painted, and says there’s a reason they didn’t tell him war was brewing over their last Iris Message. The others pile onto him, cursing and crying and trying to keep themselves from falling into pieces.)

----------

Officially, Silena Beauregard is a hero. She had been burned with laurel wreaths, and offerings were tossed into the fire to aid her journey to Elysium. Her photo has been put up in the Big House alongside many others, and even Mr D managed not to butcher “Silena Beauregard” for once, prompted by a centaur kick. Her name is whispered under the topic of the ultimate sacrifice, of the power of love, of the bravery of unexpected leaders.

Unofficially, the only one who speaks her name with pure reverence is Clarisse La Rue, and no one says it with such vitriol as Drew Tanaka. Her spy bracelet, still drenched in blood, has been hurled against a wall and remains hidden and gathering dust under her bed. Her cabin has been scrubbed clean of any mentions of her, her name unspoken in fear of Drew’s newfound cruelty.

(Drew builds back up the walls her siblings had dismantled with so much care, taller and thicker than ever before.)

(Mitchell retreats back into himself, the skittishness he had worked so hard to shed shrouding him in full force once again.)

(Lacy melts into the crowd like never before, burying her voice beneath a blanket of sorrow.)

(Valentina ditches her soft colours and loose wardrobe, forcing attention onto her new tastefully torn jeans and bold shades and away from her wail-wrecked throat.)

(Aminah tugs her grief tight around herself and leaves with the summer, her goodbye lacking a definitive “see you later”.)

----------

Two boys, adorned in pearls and guided by geese, arrive in a cabin full but hollow, plagued by dead siblings and a traitorous hero. Twins, they are, nine years old and unknowing of the carnage of war, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Drew scoffs and scolds but leaves them to her remaining siblings, for her sharp tongue has never been suited for introductions, and even in the wake of her death-stained rule, she will not dare shut children down so soon after arrival.

Names of all the ghosts haunting the cabin become unspoken, none willing to explain them and blemish the twins’ innocence.

It does not work.

Not when Lev walks in on Lacy sorting and resorting dozens of vials of perfumes with shaking hands and trembling breaths. Not when Ren asks Valentina about the night sky painted on the wall over an empty bed and she shuts down entirely for the rest of the day. Not when Lev holds up a mirror to help Mitchel neaten up the impulsive haircut he had given himself after a game of Capture the Flag. Not when Ren catches Drew in a screaming match with another camper over a girl he had never heard about.

Not when something weighs heavily over the empty spaces in the cabin, over the necks of their newfound siblings.

So they ask someone else.

Clarisse La Rue. Will Solace. Connor Stoll. Nyssa Barrera. Malcolm Pace.

Slowly, slowly, they collect pieces, find ways to fit them together, compare conflicting accounts. They get the story of clashing metal, raging fire, slithering scales. A frightful fairytale, starring their fellow campers as the main characters. The missing limbs, the overabundance of scars, the paranoid glances — it all clicks together, and the uncomfortable hollowness of Camp Half-Blood is suddenly apparent.

(Eventually, they ask about their own Cabin’s side of the story.)

(They receive no answer beyond solemn looks and half-hearted shrugs.)

----------

Piper McLean falls from the sky, crashing straight through the fragile roof of the system Cabin Ten has established for itself the moment she bursts with pink light.

She is… argumentative. Unwilling to cram herself into the tattered tapestry of their Cabin the war had left behind. Determined to be different, to stand out, to raise her hackles at those around her. Filled with an anger towards the paints and ruffles her siblings wrap themselves in, and unconcerned with not letting it spill over and burn them.

She challenges Drew, and they cheer.

(Will the sister-that-never-left finally come back to them?)

Drew scoffs and huffs, sharpens her nails on the sound of Piper’s voice, but does not fight.

(They have fought for so long, and she is tired, and maybe an older kid with none of the wounds that mar the rest of them is needed in Cabin Ten.)

(Within a month, Drew wrenches permission for them to leave Camp for a shopping trip out of Chiron, and they know she is coming back.)

#pjo #rick riordan #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjoverse #pjo spoilers #drew tanaka #silena beauregard #silena pjo #mitchell pjo #lacy pjo #valentina pjo #valentina diaz #cabin ten #aphrodite cabin #piper mclean #basically just snippets of Cabin 10 between TLO and TLH #me looking at Rick's portrayal of Cabin 10: #I recognize that the council has made a decision but given that it's a stupid-ass decision I have elected to ignore it #my characters now #fanfic

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

continuation of this story that is still as yet untitled but has been labeled as #FreeRei in my notes app

The fact that Rei had nothing in the way of backpacks, bags, or even a purse due to her seemingly permanent residency at the hospital was both a blessing and a curse.

Navigating the ledge and tree back down to the ground with his mother in tow was a harrowing enough task without luggage complicating matters, though not quite as difficult as Dabi had assumed because apparently his mother was nimble as all hell.

"The hospital offers pilates classes." she told him as he helped her cross from the ledge to a large sturdy branch of the tree. "I go every day, I thought it would be smart to stay in good shape in case I got the chance to escape." she giggled airily. "I guess my instincts were right."

However she now had nothing to her name but the clothes on her back, meaning Dabi was going to have to steal her a bunch of new clothes and shit while trying to lay low and not draw attention to himself because he just kidnapped the number 1 hero's wife.

This is the stupidest thing you've ever done you soft piece of shit, she says a few nice words and you melt into a fucking puddle, pathetic.

Rei left the lump of pillows she had stashed under her bedcovers in place so Dabi knew they had at least until morning before she would be reported missing, enough time to drop into a 24hr corner store and grab a few essentials.

He zipped his collar up over his chin and pulled on his black cloth facemask and hood before going into the thankfully empty store, he wasn't sure if having a gently smiling older woman on his arm made him seem more or less suspicious with his face as hidden as it was. Though in the end it mattered little as long as he wasn't recognised as Dabi, Rei having last been seen with a mysterious masked figure wouldn't be very useful information to anyone trying to find her, but Rei being seen with a member of the League of Villains could cause trouble.

Especially since they had The World's Most Obvious Spy in their midst.

Keeping the bird around had seemed like a good idea at the time, they always knew where the Commission's eyes were, and could feed him information as tainted as what he gave to them, and seeing as he hadn't ratted out their location (after a few trial runs at various decrepit fake bases) his goal seemed to amount to more than simply capturing the League.

But Dabi couldn't guarantee the Commission wouldn't cut their losses on the whole infiltration thing if they found out the League was harbouring someone of such a high profile, there was every chance raising the stakes this way could jeopardise their tentative safety with their hero mole. He was going to have to keep Hawks at arm's length for a while.

"What colour?" he asked Rei as she browsed the shelves for a toothbrush, almost giddy in excitement over something as simple as shopping for toiletries.

"Colour?" Rei asked, peering at the boxes in Dabi's hand.

"White hair's too eye catching and recognisable, if you want to go out in public you'll have to hide it." He held up the two boxes. "Red or black? Forget about blonde or brown, the cheap stuff doesn't set well in our hair."

Rei tapped on the box of black dye. "This one, so we match!" she smiled.

Dabi felt a sudden flood of something warm in his chest before mentally slapping himself and putting the red dye back.

Keep it together for fuck's sake you're a god damn villain, you have literally murdered people.

He smoothly slipped a couple of chocolate bars into his pockets and some wrapped sandwiches into his coat before heading to the counter with the hair dye, a toothbrush, and a packet of cheap medical face masks.

Rei grabbed at the items. "Oh can I buy them? Please?"

Her childlike wonder and excitement pulled at something in Dabi's chest, once upon a time it was him tugging at her sleeve and asking to pay for their groceries like a grown up. He could feel heat gathering beneath his skin.

Fuck he stole so much from us.

Dabi may have risen from the grave to a life of chronic pain in a fragile immunocompromised body that was kept alive by virtue of artificial quirk induced fevers and spite, but it was a price paid for the freedom his death had granted him. Rei was not awarded that luxury, fit and healthy she may be but her life had been reduced to barely more than a small box for over a decade, Dabi didn't know how it hadn't driven her even more batshit insane than Endeavor had.

Well, she did run off with a wanted criminal, maybe them docs didn't fix her up as well as they thought they did.

"I... yeah, yeah sure." he passed her the items and the last of the money in his pocket. "I need to make a call, meet me outside alright? Don't take too long."

Shiggy was gonna fucking dust him if he showed up with a stranger out of the blue, he was going to have to call ahead with some warning.

Shit, he really hadn't thought this through, at all, the League's base was the only safe place he could possibly take Rei and it was filled with unhinged lunatics that would probably scare the poor woman to death.

Although she had been married to a complete monster for half her life, and had enough guts to escape with a villain at the first opportunity. Maybe she wasn't any more frail than she was sane.

Maybe he broke you but he broke me too, yet here I am, parading around in this shattered husk, pretending I belong anywhere but six feet under.

Dabi had worked hard to maintain his mysterious image, the man with no name or past, a ghost in the system. It was necessary, a requirement for his master plan to have any kind of satisfying impact. He'd maintained the act for this long by keeping people at arm's length, trust no one and no one can betray you.

All of that would come crashing down if his mother spent any more than five fucking minutes with Himiko Toga.

The last thing he wanted was to drag his entire lifetime's worth of baggage into the League's hideout in one condensed human sized package, but he'd already started digging this hole, there wasn't anywhere left to go but down.

He opened his phone and scrolled down to 'Crusty Bitch' in his contacts before pressing call.

"Do you have any fucking idea what time it is?" Shigaraki's groggy voice poured through the phone like sand through an hourglass, grainy and impatient.

"I need a favour." Dabi said, his voice a careful mask of apathy.

"...Holy fuck you must be in real deep shit if you're asking me for a favour." Shigaraki said, the venom in his voice leeching away in his surprise. "The fuck have you gotten yourself into?"

"Aw you almost sound worried about me, that's adorable." Dabi smirked.

"Fuck you. I'm hanging up, sort out your own mess." Shigaraki snapped, all venom returning in an instant.

"Wait shit hold on, I'm-" Dabi ran a nervous hand through his hair as he watched his mother chat idly with the cashier through the store window. "I'm bringing a... friend... to the base, they need a safe place to crash and I need everyone to not ask questions."

"...You're fucking joking right? We're not a hotel Dabi, you can't just-"

"Please."

The phone fell dead silent for an agonising moment, Dabi's head fell back as he squeezed his eyes closed in silent prayer to whatever god might listen.

"Okay, you can bring them to the base, but you're going to tell me exactly what the fuck is going on. If I don't like their story I'm dusting this friend of yours where they stand, got it?"

Dabi let out a relieved breath he hadn't realised he was holding. The threat was an empty one, or at least it would be when Shigaraki discovered that Dabi's 'friend' was just an innocent civilian woman escaping a domestic abuser. The man was deranged but even he had some sympathy for those let down and left behind by hero society, it was why he tolerated the absolute lunacy of the dysfunctional codependent family he'd managed to form around himself.

"Got it, see you in an hour, and..." Dabi paused and rubbed at his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. "And thank you, I owe you one."

"Ugh, don't thank me, you'll give me hives."

part 3 ~

#lula's mha brainrot #lula's fanfics #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #rei todoroki #mha fanfiction #my hero academia

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 17.4k ❧ warnings: cursing, like... grossly adorable petnames just abandon ship now if you’re going to be a hater about it ❧ genre: fluff, modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au, dragon jisung, human reader, ft. various other magical dreamies and human!renjun, fake not dating/secret dating trope, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: here’s dragon jisungie too! this one was so much fun to write and idk y’all i think he’s just the loml now. anyway, cue the shenanigans &lt;;33

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Isn’t it always the dragon that the princess needs to be rescued from in the fairytales?” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Well maybe in this one, the dragon’s the hero—” Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. “—and rescues the princess from the crazed madman.”

“Do you like Jisung?”

Renjun’s deadpan question in the silence of the library nearly made you do a spit take all over your laptop.

After choking through the sip of your pink Gorgonade you’d just taken, you set the bottle down and looked at your human friend with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Park Jisung. Our good dragon buddy. Do you like him?” Renjun repeated with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

“Yeah, sure, he’s cool.” You kept your voice as level as possible, returning your fingers to your keyboard.

“You know what I meant.”

“And clearly, I’m not answering,” you retorted. “Now can we get our project done?”

You and Renjun were both Magical Creatures Studies majors at your college and had met up at the library this particular afternoon to work on a project together. The two of you also had lots of mutual friends, including the aforementioned Park Jisung. And sure, maybe you did have a little bit of a crush on the dragon, but there was no way you were just going to start yammering on about it in the middle of the library after being asked so abruptly.

Your friend narrowed his eyes at you, but ultimately relented. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

“Of course it’s not,” you sighed.

Finally done with your PowerPoint slides later that evening, you sent a quick text before shutting your laptop. Renjun flopped back in his seat with a groan.

“Thank fuck, my eyeballs are burning.” He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Have you tried out those enchanted blue light glasses that fairies use?” You suggested, resting your cheek in your palm to watch your friend sympathetically. Fairies’ eyes were more sensitive to electronic screens than humans or other magical beings, so they had to wear special enchanted versions of the blue light lenses that some humans wore for eyestrain. Renjun was a human, but if the screens were hurting his eyes this bad, it was worth a shot.

“I would except they’re so goddamn expensive, and Chenle won’t let me touch his even to try before I buy.”

“What about that other fairy that Mark and Donghyuck know? You’ve met him before at a study session, right?”

“Who— oh, right, uh… Jungwoo. Maybe… but I really don’t want to be asking a fairy that I don’t know for a favor, even something so small. I barely ask the one that I do know for anything, and when I do, I always regret it.”

You snickered. “That’s fair. Seems like you’re just going to suffer for the rest of your life then, Renjun.”

“Oh, woe is me,” he sighed dramatically, taking his hands off his eyes to start packing up his stuff.

“You know who I bet could help you with your whole eye problem?”

“Who?”

You shouldered your backpack, looking your friend in the eye very seriously. “The aliens, obviously.”

“Hey, you know what! They probably could!” Renjun huffed indignantly, grabbing his bag to follow you out of the library.

You were laughing as he kept ranting at you.

“Listen, you guys shit on me way too much for this. And aliens probably could help me with my eye problems if they ever came to Earth, because then they’d have very advanced technology and could very well have the engineering capabilities to make me a screen or a pair of glasses—”

“Or a new pair of bionic eyeballs.” You offered up.

“Exactly!” He threw his hands up as you spotted a familiar figure waiting at the bottom of the library stairs.

Park Jisung was standing there, tapping his hands against his thighs as he looked around awkwardly. You could see the glint of gold chains and pendants around his neck, and even more gold adorning his ears, wrists, and fingers. Dragons were a lot like magpies, you always thought to yourself, they liked shiny things. If magpies could breathe fire, of course.

You were nearly out of breath laughing as you slowed to a stop next to Jisung. Renjun was red-faced, still huffing and puffing.

Jisung’s slit pupils flicked back and forth between the two of you, bewildered, “What—?”

“I just can’t believe you literally breathe fire and have wings,” Renjun jabbed a finger against Jisung’s chest. “And yet it’s sooo crazy and funny and weird that I think that there could be aliens out there in the grand unknown infinite expanse of the universe that we’re in.”

Your dragon friend rubbed a hand over the spot that Renjun had poked, looking personally wounded. He turned to you for an explanation. “What happened this time?”

“Don’t—” You got cut off by another round of laughs. “Don’t worry about it, Ji.”

The human was starting to calm down, and seemed to have finally processed that Jisung had apparently miraculously been waiting outside the library when you two walked out. After all, the dragon didn’t have a backpack, laptop, or seemingly any school supplies on him. “Wait, what are you doing here, Jisung?”

“Oh, I was just waiting for Y/N.”

“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow, Renjun.” You waved goodbye to your human friend before he could say anything else, grabbing Jisung’s arm and pulling him off in the opposite direction.

Jisung spoke up a few seconds later. “Uh, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Boba’s the other way.”

“Right. Sorry.” You made a face, awkwardly letting him change course and lead the way. “I was just trying to get out of there.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know, Renjun was going on another one of his alien rants,” you fibbed a little, biting on the inside of your cheek.

Jisung snorted, and you watched a small puff of smoke shoot out of his nose, curling up into the air before entirely dissipating. “Thanks. How’d he get going this time?”

“Blue light glasses.”

His brow furrowed, the corner of his lip pulled up, and his nose wrinkled as he seemed to be trying to figure out how the jump was made from blue light glasses to aliens. Several of his sharp fangs were visible before his mouth relaxed again. “How—”

“You know it’s better not to ask with him.”

He sighed. “You’re right. I’m just glad we got out of there unscathed. Or at least I did. How about you? Are you in one piece still?”

Then Jisung’s two big, warm hands were on you, jokingly inspecting your hands, your arms, your neck, and your face for any harm done. You giggled, letting him turn over your arms and hold your hands and run his thumbs over your cheeks until he seemed satisfied, finishing it off with a pat to the top of your head.

“Yeah, I think I’m all here.” You absolutely knew that you were looking up at him with heart eyes. “Thanks for coming as quick as you did, any longer and I don’t think I would’ve made it this time.”

You were referring to the quick few minutes that had passed between you texting him that you were done with your project and when you actually laid eyes on him outside the library. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, and it wasn’t like he had come from anywhere on campus: today was Saturday.

“Of course, I’ll always be around to rescue you from Renjun’s rants, you damsel in distress.”

“Isn’t it always the dragon that the princess needs to be rescued from in the fairytales?” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Well maybe in this one, the dragon’s the hero—” Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. “—and rescues the princess from the crazed madman.”

You couldn’t help the cackling laughter that poured from your mouth, holding on against his supernaturally strong arms as he spun you once, twice, three times for good measure. Once you were back on two feet again, you had to clutch onto his upper arm to steady yourself as you regained your bearings. When you were sure you could walk in a straight line, you resumed your journey down the sidewalk together.

“And then the princess and the dragon fall in love and live happily ever after instead?” The words were out of your mouth before you could process the implications of them.

The dragon’s midnight blue eyes blinked at you a couple of times, and you opened your mouth to start the fastest backpedaling of your life, but then he just slung a casual arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah, something like that.” He shrugged. “Why not? I think that’s a pretty great ending. Almost as good as the dragon eating the crazed madman, which is what I was thinking.”

“Could do both,” you suggested, eyes glued to your feet.

Jisung laughed, and you looked up at him to make sure you caught his bright smile as he did. “I like that even better. Both.”

At Jasmine & Pearls, you happily accepted your drinks from Shotaro, the siren working behind the counter, before taking them to go. There was a small waterfront park just around the corner, and fall was starting to descend, meaning that it wouldn’t be too hot to just sit out there. You two walked a couple minutes down the trails away from the noisier playground to a secluded area, and found a nice soft patch of clover, wildflowers, and grasses to sit down on. Taking a sip of your boba and tilting your head back, you relished in the feeling of the warmth of the sun’s rays on your face. This was just a perfect Saturday. You had finished up your project, it was beautiful weather, and now you’re hanging out with Jisung.

“Hey, Jisung?” You pulled your head back up to look at him.

“Hm?” He raised his eyebrows, lifting his straw to his lips.

“How did you get to campus so fast?”

The dragon coughed on his drink for a second, and you were momentarily afraid of him actually choking on a tapioca pearl, but he thankfully pulled through. He scratched at the back of his neck, looking down at his drink as he mumbled something so quiet that you couldn’t make out a single word of it.

“What?”

“I was at the bakery,” he admitted, enunciating much clearer this time.

You immediately knew which one he was talking about. Half Moon Bakery, where your werewolf friend Jeno worked. It was just around the block from campus, not even a two-minute walk.

“Oh, were you and Chenle bothering Jeno at work?” That was one of Chenle’s favorite pastimes: causing mischief and having Jisung tag along. Not that Jisung didn’t often participate too, but it was typically the fairy’s idea.

“No, just me. I was… I was waiting for you to finish up at the library.”

A happiness swelled up in your chest, and your fingers itched to do something with all the extra energy suddenly coursing through your veins. So you started plucking some of the clover and flowers in front of you.

“Well I’m glad you did, Ji,” you smiled softly at him. “After all, it made your dashing rescue a lot easier.”

Jisung just kept gazing at you for a few more seconds before he suddenly looked down, picking up his boba and sucking down half of it in one go. You swore his ears were pink as he went to ask you, “So uhm, what was the project that you and Renjun were working on?”

“Well it’s for our Special Topics in Magical Creatures Studies class. This semester Dr. Kwon is teaching it, so of course you know what it’s about.”

He stared blankly at you, and you suddenly remembered that not everybody you know is a Magical Creatures Studies major like you and Renjun.

“Oh, sorry. Well, Dr. Kwon was the first human to have an interspecies marriage legally—”

This time a dribble of milk tea came out of the side of Jisung’s mouth as he coughed on it, and you unzipped the front pocket of your bookbag to grab a couple napkins you had stashed in there at the shop. He took them from you gratefully, wiping at his mouth.

“Sprung a leak, Ji?” You asked with an eyebrow raise. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Go ahead, sorry.”

“Anyway, Dr. Kwon technically had the first marriage certificate for an interspecies marriage between a human and magical being that listed each as such. Obviously, there’s been a long history of romantic relationships between species as long as everyone’s existed, and as long as people have been getting married. It’s just that within in the modern history of our current society and laws, Dr. Kwon was the first that we know of. There were definitely couples that got married before her but had to falsify their species on the certificate at the time, unfortunately. And the fact that Dr. Kwon is still you know, alive, and plenty well enough to be teaching a class on this stuff… it’s really humbling. I’m honored to learn from her but it’s also a little harrowing that it hasn’t even been one lifetime yet, you know?”

“So the class is about…” Jisung prompted you again.

“Right, it’s about specifically the history of interspecies marriage. Both between different kinds of magical creatures and between magical creatures and humans. Every time it’s Dr. Kwon’s turn to teach Special Topics, this is what she teaches.”

“And, what is her spouse?”

“Siren. Mrs. Kwon will come in and guest lecture sometimes, too.”

“So… your project?”

“Just a five-minute presentation on a topic of our choice that relates to the unit we just did. She gave a list of topics, or we could come up with our own and get it approved. Renjun and I chose the role that religion plays in interspecies marriage. Because different creatures have different belief systems, gods and goddesses, and marriage rituals in their faith. Like dragons, for example.”

“Huh?!” He squeaked. Thankfully, he was out of boba tea, and therefore didn’t do a spit take all over you or something.

“Many dragons—I’m not saying you in particular, just historically—have worshipped the Sun and fire. Their marriage rituals often involved making offerings to the Sun by burning said offerings on a pyre. Now imagine a dragon and a siren want to get married. Sirens that usually not only have their weddings underwater for one, but believe that burning wedding offerings instead of throwing them into the water will offend the Sea. It’s not impossible, it’s just fascinating to witness the compromise, especially as it gets more common with integration. And I find it beautiful, every single time.”

Jisung rested his elbow on his knee, then his cheek in his head, mindlessly running his fingertips over the clover. “Yeah? And what’s the divorce rate like for interspecies marriage?”

“Better than intraspecies, actually.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” You added in another flower to your weaving. “Fifty percent intraspecies, fifteen to twenty percent interspecies depending on the study you’re citing. The numbers on interspecies are obviously newer, and a bit harder to measure due to varying lifespans, but those are the ones that we work with in the field.”

“Interesting.”

“You want to know my theory?”

“Sure.”

“This one’s not peer-reviewed or anything, so don’t tell the other MCS majors, okay?”

“My lips are sealed,” he promised.

“Now, I’ve never been married, but… I think that if you’re too focused on what makes you the same, you’ll completely miss your differences and only realize them too late when those differences are eventually driving you apart. But if you start out already with these glaringly obviously differences and then find what makes you similar in addition to the differences—not in spite of them—then you get a clearer picture of who you’re with.”

You’d been so focused on your little task that you hadn’t looked up at Jisung a single time as you talked, but now you did, wondering why he was so quiet. He had gone still, staring at you, mouth parted, head tilted.

“What?” You looked around anxiously. “Did that not make sense? I thought that made sense?”

He shook his head. “No, no, that made sense. You just… gave me a lot to think about.”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself with all that thinking,” you giggled, getting up onto your knees.

“Hey!”

“Shh, I’m kidding,” you reassured him, taking a couple kneeling steps closer to him and holding the clover and flower wreath you’d been weaving up towards his head.

“And when did you make that?”

“While you were staring at the ground. Now hold still.”

You gently set it down on his head, scooting it around and readjusting until you were content that it wasn’t going to fall off too easily. Sitting back on your feet, you admired your work. If it weren’t for his vertical slit pupils focused entirely on you as he gazed up at you, Jisung would’ve looked like a beautiful fairy prince. Enchanting, a clover and flower crown nestled atop his hair, faintly rosy cheeks, skin seeming to glow in the dappled light from the late afternoon sun shining in through the trees.

“There you go,” you murmured, realizing how close you were to him as you caught a familiar smoky smell like a campfire.

“Can you show me how to do that?” He asked, his eyes shining.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm, plopping back down onto your bottom. Well, there goes all that tension dissolved.

“Sure, Jisung. We’re going to start with three clovers and a flower. Whatever flowers you can find around here should be good.”

And so you guided the dragon through the steps of weaving a clover crown of his own. You yourself had learned this from Jaemin the first time you’d ever hung out with the dryad without Renjun around. Renjun had been the one to introduce you to all of his friends, Jisung included. You’d met Renjun in your Intro to Magical Creatures Studies class on your very first day of college two years ago, and your life had never been the same since. Your own hometown was mostly human, in fact there was exactly one family of basilisks there and that was it. That’s why you chose the major you did, to expand your world. And man, it had been expanded since.

Jaemin had invited you out to the park with him that particular day to “exercise Jeno” in the dryad’s words, which meant sitting in the grass and throwing a ball for Jeno to catch— with his hand. Except the ball was enchanted to change direction and run away from Jeno for a certain amount of time, then he’d finally get it, and toss it back to you or Jaemin to throw again. At the time, it felt wrong to be pretty much playing fetch with a werewolf—derogatory, even—so you had asked Jeno about how he felt about it after. He explained that the ball was invented by werewolves, for werewolves. Since werewolves don’t hunt their prey for sustenance anymore, they tend to have a lot of extra energy. Most days he would go to the gym or go on a run or bike ride to get it out, but today was such a nice day that he wanted to go out with his friends instead. While some werewolves didn’t like comparisons to dogs (such as Jaemin’s offer to “exercise Jeno”), Jeno didn’t mind them usually, as long as it was from friends, and truly in good fun.

It was on that park trip, while sitting in the clover with Jaemin, that the dryad had shown you how to weave a clover crown by hand. Even now, every time you saw a patch of clover, you thought about Jaemin and Jeno and that day at the park, and how to weave clover crowns.

“How are you friends with two dryads and you don’t know how to weave clover crowns?” You asked with mock disappointment as Jisung was about a third of the way through his.

“Do you honestly think they’re going to be jumping to teach me their secrets? Probably too afraid I’d set the whole patch of clover on fire,” Jisung grumbled, adding another flower to the crown as he continued his weaving.

You frowned, gently stroking the back of his head as you watched over his technique. “You know Jaemin and Donghyuck don’t think of you like that.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, they think of me like Chenle’s pet.”

“Hey!” You flicked his ear, earning a hiss. He rubbed his ear with one hand, pouting at you.

“They are your friends,” you said sternly. “I think you might realize that if you eased up on your little hermit dragon schtick.”

“Dragons are solitary creatures. Didn’t you learn that in Intro to MCS?”

“I’ll believe that you’re solitary as soon as you and Chenle detach from where you’re currently fused at the hip.”

“He’s not here now!”

“To my knowledge. He could be hiding in a trashcan or something, I don’t know.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “His Highness would never hide in a trashcan.”

“Point taken,” you snickered.

“Well…” The dragon held up his finished clover crown for you to see. “What do you think?”

It was clearly his first attempt at one, crooked, with holes in several places, and a couple of the blue flowers he’d chosen falling out as he set it in your hands. But you still found it absolutely adorable, endearing.

“It’s great, Ji!” You praised him, turning it around to look at the weave patterns on the inside more closely. “Here, do you want to wear this one, and I can—”

“No, this one’s yours.” He took it right back, getting up on his knees like you had before to place it on your head.

You sat utterly still to let him do so, watching him with bated breath. He was perhaps even more focused on placing the clover crown on your head than he was on making it, his nose scrunched with concentration, mouth pouting just the slightest, and brow furrowed. Then, once he’d set it atop your head, he smiled to himself in satisfaction.

“So? How do I look?” You asked quietly, in the small space between the two of you.

“Like… like a princess,” Jisung answered breathily, in the narrow space between the two of you.

“Ji?” You said his name, in the minute space between the two of you.

“Yeah?” He replied, in the meager space between the two of you.

“Can I kiss y—” You didn’t even get to finish your request, as the infinite space between the two of you became a finite zero.

Kissing Jisung was warm, but not warm like the end-of-summer-turning-fall day you were enjoying before, warm like you were just feet away from a volcano, like you were kissing the very heart of a mountain. His hands cupped your cheeks as his lips meshed with yours. You had been propping yourself up with one hand behind you, but you felt the need to grab onto his arms to ground yourself. This was apparently just enough to throw your joint center of gravity off, as the both of you went toppling backwards—or, more precisely, you fell onto your back, with Jisung on top of you.

The dragon barely caught himself with a hand next to your head to keep from completely cracking his forehead against yours. You two still bonked noses, breaking the kiss, and giggled almost exactly in sync.

“Oops,” you laughed, reaching up to feel for your clover crown, happy that it was still kind of in the vicinity of your hair.

Jisung was using one hand to prop himself above you, and the other was readjusting his own clover crown to now sit on the back of his head. He was still grinning as he dipped down to kiss you again, and you held his face this time, running a thumb over his cheek.

Squished into one side of a booth in the student union with Jisung, you fervently read over your notes for your test in your next class.

“Fry,” Jisung murmured, holding said food up against your lips.

You opened your mouth without taking your eyes off your page, and he fed it to you. As you read about climate change’s effects on sirens’ native habitats, you chewed and swallowed the food without even tasting it. A moment later, a straw was pushed against your mouth too.

“Water.”

You took a sip to wash down the fry, humming contentedly as all the material in your notes was familiar to you. The test should be an uncomplicated A. Not an easy A, per se, but there shouldn’t be anything on it that surprised you, at least.

“What the hell?” Someone asked from beside your table, but you didn’t even look up. After all, you still had four more pages and only half an hour.

“What do you want, guys?” Jisung sighed. Oh, so more than one person. The first voice sounded familiar, probably some of your friends.

“What, uh, what’s going on here?” Different voice.

“Y/N’s studying. So if you don’t mind doing whatever this is later.”

Another fry. You chomped it down. Siren advocacy groups.

“Uh… sure. Yeah. You two… have fun. Come on, guys.” Third voice.

Water. Sip. Local community outreach.

When you came to a good stopping point in your notes—not quite done, but between topics—you finally looked up, setting your notebook down for a second. Jisung raised his eyebrows at you.

“Done already?” He asked, popping a fry into his own mouth.

You shook your head, taking a sip of your water on your own. “No, almost. Who was that?”

“Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck.”

Hearing the names made the voices click into place. Donghyuck first, then Jeno, then Jaemin.

“Huh. Weirdos,” you scoffed. “Anyway, we still on for movie night at my place?”

“Absolutely. Chenle’s letting me borrow his box set of the director’s cut of those movies you wanted to watch.”

“Does Chenle know he’s letting you borrow these?”

“Yes, they’re hexed. If he weren’t letting me, they’d play the porno knockoff.”

You let out a full-body cackle. “Oh, that’s a good one. You can say a lot about His Highness, but you can’t say that he doesn’t have a sense humor.”

A couple weeks later, and all eight of you were meant to be having a study session together at the library. Seven of you were already there— Jisung was coming late from a class. You had been one of the first in the room, and immediately put a bag down on a chair next to you to save it for him.

You were so innocently humming along to your music in your headphones as you took notes when you saw a hand reaching to tap the table in front of you. Pausing your music, you took one headphone out to look at the owner of the hand—Donghyuck—inquisitively. “Yes?”

“So you and Jisung have been hanging out a lot recently…” He rested his chin in his hand.

You narrowed your eyes, “Well, yeah…”

“Her heartbeat went up when you mentioned Jisung,” Mark added oh-so-helpfully.

“Gee, thanks, Mark,” you scoffed at the basilisk. “You want to go ahead taste the air for my pheromones or whatever too while you’re at it? Really complete this bonkers supernatural interrogation?”

“And then there was the fry thing,” Jaemin added, pointing at you from his seat next to Donghyuck. “I haven’t forgotten that.”

Jeno shivered beside you, “I don’t think I ever can.”

“He’s going over to her apartment a lot for movie nights. He keeps asking to borrow my nice collector’s edition box sets,” Chenle added, not looking up from his laptop. He readjusted his blue light glasses. “I think he’s trying to impress her.”

You looked around at all of them incredulously. “Uh, guys, seriously? I think Jisung and I are allowed to hang out, watch movies together, and eat together considering we’re—”

“Y/L/N Y/N, I swear to god you better not say because you’re ‘besties’ right now,” Renjun cut you off, throwing air quotes up around the word ‘besties.’ “Seriously, how can two people be so oblivious?”

Oh. Holy shit. They all thought you and Jisung were still friends. Somehow, apparently none of them knew that you and Jisung had started officially dating since that day in the park three weeks ago.

You were just staring blankly between all six of them, not sure how to respond. Thankfully, the door to the study room was opened then, Jisung rushing in.

“Hey, I’m here!” His bright demeanor fell as soon as he noticed the tension in the room. “What’s going on? What’d I miss?”

“Nothing, Ji,” you turned to him with a smile. Taking your bag off the last chair in the study room, you told him sweetly, “Here, I saved you a seat next to me!”

“Oh, thanks, Y/N!” He happily took it, plopping his bag down on the table to take out his laptop.

After the study session was concluded, you all filed out together, you and Jisung right beside each other.

“Come on Jisung, I’ll drive,” Chenle called for his roommate, spinning his keys around his finger.

“Sure, hold on!” Jisung said back, waiting up to say goodbye to you.

“Renjun, you still up for ramen and ranting?” You clasped your hands together hopefully as you looked at your friend. It was ritual for you and Renjun to get together and rant over extra-spicy ramen whenever some drama had gone down within your department at the school. There’d been some going on this past week, and you and Renjun decided that late-night after studying was the perfect time to talk shit.

Except, he and Chenle seemed to lock eyes for a brief moment. And then, Renjun was checking his phone, throwing up his other hand, and sighing.

“Ah, Y/N, you know what,” he clicked his tongue. “I am so sorry, but I got a text from my dad while we were in that study session and he says the cat is sick. I’ve really got to go.”

“Your parents live three hours away—”

“Uh, Jisung! You like ramen!” Renjun gestured at the dragon that was still waiting next to you. “Why don’t you take Y/N for some ramen? Just- just you two?”

“That’s it! You’re taking too long, Jisung! I’m leaving you!” Chenle yelled dramatically from the front, giving his keys one last jangle before he quite literally ran off through campus.

You were too distracted watching Chenle incredulously to notice that Renjun had escaped too until you turned back around to talk to him. Then you realized that all of your friends had mysteriously dispersed.

“What just happened?” Jisung asked, looking around confused.

“I think… I think they set us up,” you scratched at your head.

“Like, a date? Don’t they…”

“I think they think they’re plotting to make us date.”

He blinked at you. You grabbed his arm to start walking down the sidewalks. “Come on, we can at least talk about this over some ramen.”

“Didn’t you tell them?” Jisung’s face seemed as though it was permanently stuck in the same bewildered expression. You two were side by side at your favorite 24-hour ramen bar by the university, and you had finally filled him in on what he missed in the study room.

You slurped up a noodle. “I thought you did.”

“I thought you were going to!”

“They were your friends first!” You retorted indignantly.

“Hey, I only claim Chenle,” he held up his chopsticks and spoon defensively. “The others just came along.”

It was true that Jisung had befriended Chenle first, and the others just sort of came with the fairy. After all, dragons did tend to be solitary creatures, and on top of that, you’d be hard-pressed to find one hanging out with a dryad on purpose, much less two.

“Speaking of Chenle, how did you not even mention it to him? You live with him!”

“Well, every time I was going somewhere with you I’d be like ‘Oh, I’m going to wherever with Y/N’ or ‘I’m going to Y/N’s place.’ It’s not like I could call you something else.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Something else?”

“Like… you know… my girlfriend,” Jisung mumbled, very focused on stirring up some of his broth.

“Well… you could.” You were getting warm, and not from the spicy ramen.

He looked up at you, a smile growing on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay, on one condition.” He set down both his utensils, holding up the number one.

“What’s that?”

“You call me your boyfriend.”

“God you’re dumb sometimes,” you shook your head, but still had fondness in your tone and your actions as you brought your hand up, all five fingers up. “Yes, duh.”

Jisung got the idea, opening the rest of his hand back up to lace all of his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand, your stomach doing flips at the softness in his eyes as he looked at you.

The two of you brought your hands back down to keep eating, and your boyfriend circled your conversation back around to the entire reason you were here in the first place.

“Anyway, our friends.”

“Our friends,” you repeated unenthusiastically. “So… how are we going do it? They’re going to be annoying no matter how we go about it.”

“Good point. You know… they’re going to keep meddling if we don’t say anything. What if we just… let them?” He suggested.

“You’re proposing we fake not date and let them all run themselves in circles trying to connive us into dating?”

“How long do you think it’ll take them to notice?”

“A month,” you snorted.

“A month?” He scoffed. “Come on, they’re a bit dumb but they’re not that bad. Like, two weeks.”

“I think part of it’s going to depend on how stupid they think we are.”

That looked like it changed Jisung’s mind. “You’re so right, a month at least.”

“They’re going to kill us when they find out.”

“Don’t worry, the big scary dragon will protect you from their wrath, princess,” Jisung teased, throwing an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer and kiss your cheek.

You laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Ji, never call yourself that again. Please. Even as a joke.”

“So how was ramen?” Renjun asked before you could even open your mouth for a ‘good morning’ the next day.

“So how’s the family cat?” You shot back, taking your seat next to him in the lecture hall. “I was expecting to have to send you the notes for today since you had to drive to your parents’ three hours away in the middle of the night to see it.”

“You know, funniest thing happened. I had just gotten back to my apartment to pack, and my dad called me back and said the little guy made a full recovery. The vet called it a miracle. So I got my beauty rest in my own bed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Glad to hear Mr. Mittens is doing better.”

“So how was ramen?” The human repeated.

“Oh, it was really good!” You gushed. “I got a different bowl than I normally order, extra spicy still even though you and I weren’t gossiping, and I really, really liked it! I might make it my go-to order now instead of what I usually get.”

Renjun looked at you stone-faced. “Not the food, Y/N.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You and Jisung…”

“Ate ramen.”

“And…”

“Then we went home?”

“Separately?”

“He walked me home if that’s what you’re asking?” You raised an eyebrow. “He always offers to, especially at night. It’s really nice of him.”

“Yeah,” Renjun said knowingly. “He’s so nice.”

That afternoon, you met up with Jisung between classes in the student union, tucked away in an oversized armchair. You retold the story of Renjun asking about ramen to him, and your boyfriend giggled with delight.

“I’m telling you, Sungie, he looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel when he heard that we apparently didn’t magically fall in love over a bowl of ramen,” you snickered.

“Serves him right,” Jisung declared.

“What do you think they’re going to do next?”

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“In the meantime… movie night tonight?”

“I don’t know, I’m running out of Chenle’s box sets to impress you with.”

You laughed, gently nudging him in the side. “Guess you’ll just have to—”

“Hey… guys… what’s up?” Someone sputtered out from behind and just off to the side of the armchair.

Both you and Jisung whipped around to see Mark standing there, fountain drink in hand. He pulled his over-ear headphones off then, hanging them around his neck.

“Oh, hey Mark,” you waved at him, trying to play this off as casually as possible.

“Why are you two— you know,” he gestured vaguely to you and Jisung.

Jisung sat forward a bit, making the posing a bit less intimate with your faces further from each other. “Y/N and I both have time in between classes now, so we’re hanging out. I’d invite you on, but I don’t think there’s room. You can definitely pull up a chair or something and sit with us if you’ve got time though.”

“No, no, I’m good man,” the basilisk rejected the offer quickly. “Besides, I’ve got to meet up with Johnny for a thing, so, yeah. You two have fun… hanging out. Looks comfy.”

“Bye Mark!” You waved goodbye to him too, watching as he practically ran out of the building.

“Chenle asked me point blank if this was just a movie night,” Jisung informed you, plopping down onto your couch.

“Observant of him.” You sat down beside him and grabbed your remote to queue up the first movie. “And what did you say?”

“I asked him what else it could possibly be.”

“And that worked?”

“Yes,” your boyfriend huffed, a wisp of smoke shooting out his nose. “I don’t know if I should be relieved or offended that everyone is so willing to believe that I’m this stupid.”

With the DVD previews now playing, you set the remote down to get settled in for the movie. Jisung lifted an arm up for you to snuggle into his side, and you let out a contented sigh at the familiar warmth and smoky scent that enveloped you. It was like cuddling your own personal furnace.

“For now, be thankful, Ji,” you patted his chest. “After all, we’ll never know this kind of peace after they find out.”

He stroked a knuckle up and down your arm lazily. “Yeah... you’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

“Hey, look at me?” He requested, his voice a murmur. “You’ve got something on your mouth.”

You lifted your head up, confused. Just as you’d complied, the dragon swooped in, pressing his lips to yours in a dizzying kiss.

Your head was still spinning as he pulled away, running his thumb over your bottom lip, where his fangs had just been nibbling the moment prior.

“I-I thought there was something on my mouth?” You asked breathily.

“There was.” He smirked, still holding your chin in place. “It was my mouth.”

“Eep!” You let out a squeal as you nearly lost your balance, grabbing onto the shoulder of the closest person to keep from completely wiping out.

Jeno thankfully wasn’t very easy to knock over, and held your elbow to help you stay upright as you struggled to get reoriented. All your friends had gone ice skating today, and you were now realizing that you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d gone. You were a bit out of practice.

“You got it, Y/N?” The werewolf asked warily as you took a couple more cautious steps forward.

You wobbled a little. “Uh. No. Sorry, Jeno, just put me on the wall.”

“Here, you got her?” Jeno was talking to somebody else, but your eyes were glued to your skates to make sure you didn’t slip. So you weren’t even looking as the werewolf’s shoulder disappeared from your grip and was replaced by somebody else’s.

A warm hand was taking and moving yours, encouraging you to hold onto his upper arm for support. You immediately recognized it as Jisung’s, the only other person who would be this warm in the freezing temperature of the ice rink besides the werewolf who just left you. Pulling in closer to Jisung now, you felt a little bit more stable, and finally comfortable enough to look up from your feet to your boyfriend.

“Thanks, Ji,” you said genuinely, squeezing his arm.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled down at you. “Do you think you’re ready to start skating? The other guys have kind of abandoned us.”

Focusing your gaze ahead of you, you saw that your other six friends were way ahead of you on the rink. In fact, you couldn’t even see some of them at all, suspecting that they were about to be coming up behind you to lap you.

You nodded, preparing yourself mentally. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

And so you and Jisung started slowly moving along the ice together. Despite Jisung helping you stay upright initially—you still weren’t sure if he volunteered or was volunteered by your little matchmakers—he wasn’t really too adept of an ice skater either. He was truly only marginally better than you, so the two of you were slow going, and had a couple close calls in regards to stumbles. But you didn’t mind, you were spending time with your boyfriend and your friends. It was shaping up to be a really good day.

“Sorry, be right back. Bathroom break,” Chenle excused himself from the conversation you three were having at the moment, skating off at the next exit you passed by.

Craning your neck around, you realized that none of your friends were on the ice anymore. Renjun went to switch his skates out for a different size fifteen minutes ago, Mark and Jeno went to get food ten minutes ago, Jaemin and Donghyuck needed a water break five minutes ago, and now Chenle’s bathroom break.

“Huh…” You caught Jisung’s eye knowingly. “Looks like it’s just us now, Sungie…”

“Miraculously it is,” he agreed sarcastically.

“You think they’re coming back?”

Then both your phones went off, a text tone. Jisung stopped the two of you skating to take his out, showing that it was a text in your group chat with everybody.

[donghyuck: the concessions stand nachos gave mark food poisoning and he threw up everywhere so we’re all taking him home! you guys stay and skate though! have fun!]

“Guess not,” you sighed. “For Mark’s sake, and the poor employees’ sake, I hope that’s a complete lie.”

“Well, now that they’re gone…” Jisung turned to you, taking both of your hands in his and bringing them up to his mouth, blowing hot air over them. Your numb fingers quickly warmed up, and you watched his every move lovingly. He brought your hands back down from his mouth, eyes pleading, as he asked, “Can we go? I hate the cold.”

You laughed, nodding as you squeezed his hands. “Of course, yes.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you.” Jisung practically dragged you to the exit, lifting you with an arm around your waist to help you down the big step down from the rink to the main floor.

[jisung: did donghyuck ask you to meet him at the coffee shop in the student union in ten minutes?]

[you: no, but mark did]

[jisung: well, i'll see you in ten]

With a fond shake of your head, you pocketed your phone and started your journey across campus. Looks like you were going to have an impromptu coffee date with Jisung. You had to admit it, while their meddling could be annoying, it was a little fun sometimes to see when your next spontaneous date with your own boyfriend would be, as arranged by your six little matchmakers.

As you arrived at the small but extremely busy campus coffee shop, you surmised that you were the first one to get there, and hopped in the obscenely long line to at least order for yourself. You took out your phone to text your friend that you were supposed to be meeting.

[you: hey, i’m here! i’m in line, what do you want, in case i order before you get here?]

Mark did immediately text back his coffee order—which was actually an order for one of the “refreshers” that you were pretty sure was just a mix of various juices. Coffee was too bitter for his extremely sensitive snake tongue.

Your basilisk friend found you while you were still waiting for the drinks to come out, and once you had them in hand, the two of you went to find a spot to sit down together. You raised an eyebrow when he suggested a table with four chairs instead of the two-seater that you had spotted, but you shrugged and accepted his reasoning that it was in a quieter area. Sitting across from him, you put your bag in the seat next to you.

“So how’s your day going, Mark?” You asked him brightly, taking a sip of your drink.

“Hm? Oh, good, good.” His eyes flitted around the student union almost anxiously, as if he were anticipating something.

You pushed on in the conversation, however. “That’s good. And how are your powers coming along?”

Most natural-born magical creatures started developing their powers practically at birth, but basilisks didn’t come into theirs until after their first molting—which Mark just had last year. The last you’d heard, he’d partially petrified his human roommate Johnny back in the spring and had been working on getting them under control as they got stronger since.

“It’d be a lot better if Johnny would just let Taeil and Doyoung make him a protection charm so that I wouldn’t keep accidentally compelling and petrifying him,” Mark covered his face with a groan. “But no, he’s got this whole deal about wanting to make sure we all know he doesn’t think we’re monsters and he’s not afraid of us. Which is all well and good but like come on, maybe he should take at least some precautions when he’s like getting petrified by his basilisk roommate every week! So now I have to wear sunglasses around the apartment like I’m hungover 24/7.”

You winced sympathetically, not realizing the situation was that bad. “Maybe start sprinkling some weasel fur into his morning coffee?”

“Eugh, weasel fur coffee. I think you’ve described my actual worst nightmare.” Mark wrinkled his nose and looked like he was genuinely holding back a gag. “Anyway, I think he might notice if there were suddenly furs in his iced Americano every morning.”

“Maybe the witches can put it in something else innocuous that he’d use every day? It’d just be until you got a handle on your powers, remember.”

“If I ever do,” he sighed, stirring his straw around in his drink.

“You will, Mark,” you tried to reassure him. “It’s only been a year. These things take time.”

“Yeah, MCS major? Want to give me some statistics on basilisk powers to make me feel better?” He retorted, and you knew your friend well enough to understand that the words were meant to be light-hearted, despite the bitter and biting tone that they came out with instead.

You gave him a frank look. “I’m not Renjun. I’m not a walking, talking encyclopedia of magical creatures. But if you insist on making me think back to Intro to MCS… On average, basilisks take two to three years to reach full development of their powers after molting. You just molted a little over a year ago, you can’t put so much pressure on yourself to be perfect already, Mark.”

He ran a hand through his hair, forked tongue flicking in the air before he spoke again. “Fine, fine. You’re right. I knew all this, it’s just… it’s a lot more of a relief to hear it from somebody else.”

“I know what you mean, don’t worry,” you smiled at your friend.

He smiled back at you, genuinely, a flash of his two sharp snake fangs that hadn’t finished descending yet, then it turned sort of weird, before the smile fell entirely from his face. Mark sat forward in his chair, looking a bit more businesslike now. “Y/N, I’ve got to tell you something, and I don’t have very long, so please don’t say anything, just let me talk, okay?”

Your eyes widened with alarm at whatever the hell could be coming next, but you just slowly nodded.

“Thanks. I didn’t just ask you here to get coffee and hang out. I’m really sorry. You see, Donghyuck and I—”

“Mark! Y/N! Hey!” The very dryad that had just been named suddenly emerged from the crowd, with your boyfriend in tow.

Mark gave you an apologetic look before he turned to Donghyuck and Jisung. “Oh. Donghyuck. And Jisung. What a… surprise.”

The two newcomers each had their own coffee orders in hand, and you smiled at them.

“Hey, guys! Did you two get coffee too?” You did your best to pretend both like you had no clue something was up because Jisung told you about it, and because Mark had just almost told you about it.

“Yeah, we did!” Donghyuck replied cheerily.

“Well, we have a couple extra seats, if you want to join us,” you offered of your own volition this time, taking your bag off the chair next to you.

Jisung remained standing for a moment, looking to Donghyuck for his cue. The dryad was absolutely beaming.

“Of course!” He slid right in next to Mark, who looked like he wanted to die. “Thanks, Y/N!”

The dragon took the seat beside you with no further prompting.

You turned your focus back to the basilisk, doing your absolute best to feign obliviousness. “So, what were you saying, Mark?”

Donghyuck looked at him pointedly. “Yeah, Mark, what were you saying?”

“Never mind, I forgot,” he waved it off. “Wasn’t important, I guess.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink.

“What’d you get, Y/N?” Jisung asked curiously.

“My usual. You want some?”

“Sure.”

You held yours out to him at the same time that he handed his over to you in return. As naturally as you could with the two pairs of dumbfounded eyes glued to you, you took a sip of Jisung’s drink. Yep, it was his regular order, same as always. You handed it back, holding out an expectant hand to receive yours again.

Jisung didn’t let either of your two slack-jawed friends recover to ask questions or make comments, though, immediately engaging them in conversation. “Donghyuck, how’d that report go, by the way?”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that Panforsaken assignment!”

Jaemin threw the ball as hard as he could, and you watch as it sailed in a perfect arc, then suddenly changed direction midair, leaving Jeno to have to turn on the spot and run to catch up. You three had all gone back to the park again today, you and Jaemin weaving endless clover crowns in between throwing the ball for Jeno. It was another lovely day, a bit crisper than when you and Jisung had gone. A single, puffy white cloud floated by overhead as you hummed a tune to yourself, fingers mindlessly weaving in another blue wildflower.

“Y/N...” Jaemin said, reminding you of your dad who had caught you sneaking in after your curfew.

“Jaemin...” You mimicked his tone.

“So... what’s going on with you?”

“Spit it out, Jaemin. You clearly want to ask me about something specific.”

“Y/N, I’m a dryad. I’m in touch with nature, you know. The plants, the trees, the dirt, the animals, all of it,” he explained, setting his weaving down. “And that includes humans. As much as you humans don’t want to admit it, you’re a part of nature, too. And I know I can’t feel your emotions like a unicorn can, but I can tell that you and Jisung clearly care for each other.”

“Yeah, Jaemin, I love all of you guys. We’ve become really good friends over the years.”

“No, Y/N. Differently than the rest of us care for each other.” The dryad patted your cheek, a wistful look on his face. “I don’t know if you’re just lying to yourself, or if you haven’t realized it yet, but you and Jisung… it is different than the rest of us.”

You had to bite down on your bottom lip, cover your mouth, and hide your face in your chest to keep from laughing right in Jaemin’s face and entirely blowing your cover right then and there. The dryad clearly misinterpreted your actions, as he scooted closer and wrapped his arms around you, shushing and cooing at you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay.” He rubbed your back. “I can’t feel dragons as well for… obvious reasons, but he likes you too. I promise. It’s all going to work out.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without giggling then.

“I got it—! Oh, uh…” Jeno’s excited cheers cut off as his voice got closer and closer. “Are you... okay?”

You felt Jaemin take one of his hands off your back, and could only imagine whatever silent conversation the two of them were having with gestures. After “composing yourself” again, you sat up straight, looking up at Jeno and holding your hand out.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Jeno,” you reassured him. “Come on, dude. It’s my turn to throw.”

You drummed your fingers on the table beside your book, the highlighter nearly falling out of your other hand as you were about to fall asleep. Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck weren’t faring any better than you, seeming about ready to fall asleep over their own textbooks and laptops too. The only member of your little study group who didn’t seem to be on the brink of a boredom-induced coma was Renjun. The human was chugging along through the assigned reading for one of your classes as per usual, dutifully taking his color-coded notes. You watched him through half-lidded, tired eyes, trying to figure out if he was maybe a robot, or was on Adderall, or was on the magic equivalent of Adderall, to be this committed of a student.

Renjun’s gaze slowly lifted from his textbook to you, then he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Yes, Y/N?”

“Okay. What is it?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Drugs? Aliens? Because I’ll believe in the little guys now.”

“What?”

“How can you not be—”

“Hey, Y/N.” A soothing voice, warm hand on your head, and familiar cup from the campus coffee shop being placed in front of your face cut off your rambles right as you had begun to pick up steam. “Brought this for you.”

You looked up at Jisung, offering him as much of a smile as you could in your frazzled state. “Oh, hey, Ji. Thank you.”

“Also grabbed you these.” He unzipped the front pocket of his bookbag, taking out a holographic box of candy and setting it next to the drink on the table.

“Oh, Sungie…” You sighed, feeling the tension in your shoulders dissipate at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend. “Thank you. Seriously.”

Jisung gave your shoulder a squeeze. “‘Course. Well, I should let you get back to studying. I’ll see you later, princess.”

“Bye, Ji.” You gave him an unamused look, earning only a cheeky little smile in return. He got to walk away and leave you to deal with the aftermath of that nickname drop.

After he left, you were smiling to yourself happily anyway, basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest when you turned back around to see the looks on your friends’ faces. It took everything in you not to burst out laughing.

“He’s calling you ‘princess.’” Donghyuck deadpanned.

“Oh that? That’s just an inside joke.” You tried to play it off with a light, nervous laugh. “It’s not—”

“Inside joke?” Jeno repeated, as if there were any way for him to mishear you in the dead quiet of the library.

“Oh we would love to be enlightened to how this joke came about.” Jaemin requested sweetly, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them.

Donghyuck leapt back in to take the lead again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it’s hilarious. Jisung is really known for his sense of humor. You know, like all dragons.”

You went to crack open the box of gummy candy Jisung had brought you, enchanted to change color and flavor based on your mood. This time the gummies were yellow and pink, lemon and strawberry flavored.

“Yeah, it’s a long story but that’s it. He doesn’t…” You trailed off sheepishly, giving them a look as if it were the most impossible thing in the world to imply that Jisung could possibly have romantic intentions behind calling you that.

Donghyuck’s eye twitched.

You weren’t alone with Jisung again until the next night. Laying on your bed in your room, you heard the sound of your front door unlocking, then Jisung calling out to announce his presence. You yelled back loud enough so he knew where in the apartment you were.

As soon as he poked his head into your bedroom, you shot up in bed, pointing at him accusingly.

“You are a menace,” you declared, sitting up fully.

He snorted a puff of smoke out in disbelief. “What?”

“Donghyuck about exploded trying to explain the concept of petnames to me after you called me ‘princess’ yesterday.”

“I’ll do you one better.” Jisung challenged you, slinging his backpack around to his front.

“Oh really?”

He unzipped the main pocket of his bag to start rooting around in it. “I got a Renjun lecture of epic proportions today about human dating rituals.”

“No.” You covered your mouth with your hand in horror.

“He made me a PowerPoint and everything. I had to take notes.” Jisung dropped a spiral notebook onto your bed, and you scrambled forward to grab it.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, eyes skimming over the page. There, in Jisung’s messy scrawl, were little notes about how human dates work: gifts, flowers, the whole works. It was definitely a Renjun lecture, because it was phrased from an academic viewpoint, and absolutely did not read like just a friend giving another friend dating advice.

You looked up from the page to your boyfriend. “How did this even—”

“I really should’ve been more suspicious of his offer to study buddy up since you guys just studied yesterday, because I was then falsely imprisoned in a study room.”

“Oh, Sungie,” you cooed, tossing the notebook aside and reaching out for his face instead. “I am so sorry you had to be subjected to that.”

“I tried to tell him that I grew up around humanoids just fine, but he said that Chenle didn’t count,” Jisung sighed, letting you cradle his cheeks in your hands.

You chuckled. “Well, I do sort of have to agree with Renjun there. I like Chenle, but a fairy prince isn’t exactly representative of humans.”

“What?” He gave you a thoughtful pout.

“I mean, my aunt married a basilisk, so I grew up with basilisk cousins. But you wouldn’t want me to say that I know about dragons because of that, right?”

“Well… I guess, yeah.”

“That’s all I mean, Sungie.” You reassured him, looping your arms around his neck. “That doesn’t mean I wanted you to be locked in a study room all by yourself with Renjun for who knows how long being lectured on supposed human courting.”

“I wasn’t by myself, Jaemin was there too. He was the one keeping the door locked.”

You nodded solemnly, easily able to imagine how the dryad could do that any number of ways with any number of plants. Pulling him closer to you, you pecked his nose, then the apples of his cheeks.

“Seems like the dragon needed rescuing from the crazed madman this time, hm?” You teased as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Yes, unfortunately I think the school would have frowned upon me eating him or his leafy accomplice.”

“Presumably.”

He let his head fall forward into the crook of your neck with a groan, his hot breath washing over your skin.

“Well, you’re all safe here in my tower now,” you promised him, threading your fingers through his hair.

Reclined into a corner of Jeno and Jaemin’s couch, you happily munched on your snack, feet propped up in Jaemin’s lap. Everyone was meeting at their apartment for a video game night, and you were still waiting on a couple more to arrive before you could officially start your mess of a tournament. Everyone’s schedules fluctuated so much that you always planned on having at least one required full-group hangout every month. Usually the activity chosen was a bit more exotic, but after Renjun's submission for last month’s “weirdly niche PowerPoint night” that was supposed to be ten minutes at most ended up being over an hour, it was decided that something easy and mundane was in order for this month. So, pizza and Super Smash Bros.

Chenle had arrived a couple minutes ago, unfortunately without his roommate. You knew that Jisung had ended up staying at the library much later than he intended—his assignment took longer than he expected to complete—but he was on his way now. The fairy was sitting sideways in an armchair, legs dangling over one arm and head supported by the other as he scrolled on his phone.

There was a knock at the front door, and Jeno got up to get it, as his roommate was currently preoccupied being your footrest. Not that the dryad seemed to mind, he was perfectly content to scold and correct Renjun from afar on how he was (apparently incorrectly) setting up the gaming system to accommodate all the additional controllers the eight of you would require to play at the same time.

Renjun was sat directly in front of the TV, bickering back with him. “Oh, you want to come get up and do it yourself, Jaemin? It’s your fucking Switch anyway.”

“Don’t need to get up,” Jaemin replied smugly, shooting a vine out to smack Renjun on the back of the head.

His reflexes were quicker than the human’s, as the plant had snapped back out of Renjun’s reach before he could grab it. What he was going to do with it if he got it, you didn’t want to know.

“Hey!” “Hi.”

You looked up from the building tension at the cheerful greetings. It had been Mark and Donghyuck at the door, the basilisk wordlessly squatting down next to Renjun to take a look at the gaming system too. You gave the newcomers a wave from your spot, which was slightly hindered by the sleeves of your oversized sweatshirt.

“I like that hoodie, Y/N.” Donghyuck sat down next to Jaemin on the couch, grabbing a chip out of the large bowl on the coffee table.

“Yeah, looks comfy.” Jaemin grabbed the end of the big sleeves and shook them around for emphasis. “Where’d you get it?”

“Huh?” You looked down at exactly what you were wearing. Well, shit. It was a plain black hoodie with a small simple embroidery of the brand’s logo on the front. It wasn’t yours, and you’d specifically worn it here so that you wouldn’t forget to bring it with you to give it back to the actual owner. “Oh, I don’t know, you’d have to ask Jisung, it’s his.”

“What?!” Donghyuck crushed his chip in his hand. Jaemin put a hand on his arm to encourage him to calm down.

“Yeah, we were hanging out yesterday and I got cold, so he let me borrow it. He accidentally left my place without it, so I’ve actually got to return it to him when he gets here.” And that was the truth. Not even carefully chosen words, or twisting of the narrative.

Donghyuck’s outburst had drawn the attention of everybody else in the living room—save for Chenle, who was still flicking through his phone.

“Wait, wait, let me get this straight, Jisung let you borrow something of his?” Renjun clarified.

“Yeah, Ji lets me use his stuff sometimes.”

Your human friend completely set the pieces of the gaming console down, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Y/N. You’re a Magical Creatures Studies major. Think. A dragon let you borrow his stuff? And even forgot to ask for it back? Allegedly.”

“Oh my G— Renjun, come on! A bit stereotypical, don’t you think?” You crossed your arms defensively.

“Stereotype or not, Jisung doesn’t share,” Chenle cut in dryly. “He’s very protective of his hoard.”

“See?” Renjun gestured at the fairy vigorously.

You looked to the others for help, the panic in you real this time. Donghyuck looked like he finally had the last piece he needed to connect to finish his conspiracy board; Jaemin gave you a pointed, but satisfied look; Mark refused to meet your pleading eyes; and even Jeno, sweet Jeno, could just shrug at you.

“Dragons are kind of like werewolves, right?” He added casually. “We scent our pack. Or, I guess dragons have a nest?”

You could barely hear Jeno’s pondering at the end about the proper terminology for dragons, as nearly everyone else in the room about lost their damn minds at you. Their victorious cheers, jeers, and jokes went in one ear and out the other as your hands felt at the soft material of the inside of the hoodie.

As an MCS major, you always tried very hard to not treat your friends simply as their species, but as individuals, too, and learn about them personally in addition to whatever was covered in class. That was especially true for Jisung, who you knew didn’t really grow up around other dragons, so the habits and customs of dragons that you studied weren’t so easily applied to him. So when he offered you his hoodie last night, it was easy for you to just be giddy and happy because your boyfriend was sharing clothes with you. But it wasn’t just a hoodie, really. You and Renjun hadn’t taken your class on dragons, basilisks, and wyverns yet, therefore the only stuff you knew was from Intro to MCS and personal experience. But this was still—

Then, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Donghyuck shot to his feet and ran for the front door before anybody else could.

“Speak of the dragon and he shall appear!” The dryad announced cheerfully just a second later, dragging Jisung in with an arm around his neck.

“Hey, Jisung!” Jaemin brushed your feet off his lap to stand up as well. “Here, sit. I’ll grab you something to drink.”

“Uh, hey, guys.” Jisung shook Donghyuck off to straighten up and look around at everyone. The dragon sat down beside you. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, Ji. I’ve got your hoodie, sorry about accidentally stealing it last night.” You grabbed the hem, about to take it off to give it back.

“It’s okay, you can hold onto it. It’s a bit drafty in here.” He waved you off nonchalantly, accepting a drink from Jaemin, who had just returned from the kitchen.

“Oh. Thanks.” You pulled your knees in to your chest, too overwhelmed to say much else.

Renjun was right, you were well aware that dragons were possessive over their belongings— gold or otherwise. The gravity of Jisung offering the hoodie to you in the first place and now letting you keep it was not lost on you. And then there was of course Jeno’s insightful comment.

“So why were you talking about me without me around?” Jisung asked the others, not sounding very thrilled at the idea.

“Y/N was just telling us that you two were hanging out last night.” Donghyuck happily informed him.

“Alone.” Jaemin added.

“Again.” Jeno coughed.

The first dryad continued, “We’re hurt that we weren’t invited.”

Jisung scoffed, “Well considering you guys just disappear all the time now, we figured you didn’t like hanging out with us anymore.”

“But since you want to hang so bad, we should all do something this weekend!” You leapt in to suggest.

“Great idea, Y/N.” Jaemin was beaming at you.

Chenle tapped a couple things on his phone as he offered, “Isn’t the student activities board hosting that movie screening on the lawn?”

“Yeah!” Mark perked up, looking up from all the wires and controllers he was still messing with. “Taeyong’s on the board this year and he’s really excited for everything they’ve got planned. I know he’d love it if we all went.”

Taeyong was another friend of Mark’s; a unicorn, if you could recall correctly.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jisung nodded.

You pointed a threatening finger at everyone except your boyfriend, “And I swear, if a single one of you bail in the middle of the movie, I’m going to think you hate me.”

“Y/N! I could never hate you!” Jaemin gasped, throwing a hand over his chest in offense.

“Then stop leaving me!”

“C’mon, Renjun, we’re gonna miss the start of the movie!” You were practically dragging your friend through campus.

“You mean you’re going to miss precious time with Jisung,” Renjun retorted, but nevertheless gave in to your tugging on his arm, starting a light jog to keep up with you.

“And what do you mean by that?” You asked. Honestly, you were kind of hoping that he was onto you. It was funny at first to see your friends run themselves in circles, but now it was just a bit saddening—and annoying—to not interact with your boyfriend how you really wanted to all the time.

Your human friend sighed. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Finally, the two of you arrived at the front lawn, and you craned your neck around to look for your other friends. You and Renjun were the last two to arrive. There, off to the side and up towards the front of the open space, several blankets overlapped, and your other six friends were sprawled out on them. Jeno and Jisung had spotted you two already, waving to get your attention.

A large white screen had been set up to one side of the university’s front lawn, the chosen movie being projected across it. Thankfully, it hadn’t started yet. You could see a stand where the student activities board was handing out popcorn, and students were scattered about the lawn. Your friends had gotten a spot opposite from the snack stand, and you and Renjun traversed your way around other attendees to get to them.

“Hey!” You smiled at everyone, plopping down beside Jisung without a second thought. “Sorry we were almost late—”

“But somebody forgot the candy.” Renjun cut in as he dropped a convenience store bag onto the center of the blankets, pointed glare fixed on Chenle and Jisung.

“We remembered the chips!” Jisung defensively pointed to a pile of bags of chips and other salty snacks that were sitting in the middle of everyone.

Mark patted a cooler beside him. “And Hyuck and I remembered the drinks. And nobody’s late. So everything’s fine, Renjun.”

You chuckled, overturning the bag to dump out all the boxes and bags of candy onto the pile of snacks as well. Everyone grabbed what they wanted and settled in for the start of the movie. It was cool outside, and though you were already wearing Jisung’s big hoodie, you also wrapped one of the extra blankets around your shoulders.

“Are you cold?” Jisung asked you quietly. There was a steady hum of chatter from the crowd, which had become a little softer with the beginning of the movie.

“‘M alright, Ji,” you reassured him. “Just... don’t move too far away. You’re like a portable space heater.”

He shifted around to lay down, his head and most of his upper body in your lap. You weren’t sure how much of the movie he could actually see from this angle, with Mark, Jeno, and Renjun in front of you, but you weren’t going to be the one to point that out. The two of you were towards the back corner of the blankets, Jaemin and Donghyuck to your left, Chenle on the other side of and in front of Donghyuck; Mark and Renjun were properly sitting up at the front of the blanket, with Jeno sprawled out across their laps—reminding you just a little bit of a happy puppy looking for ear rubs.

You fondly brushed some of Jisung’s hair out of his eyes, contemplating the pros and cons of just kissing him on the nose right now. Yeah, there’d probably be no way in hell you could play that off, but he was scrunching it up very adorably as he concentrated on reaching for a small patch of clover that was just off to the side next to the blanket.

You were still weighing your options when he changed his focus to a point just past your head instead. His eyes flicked between the weaving in his hands and the sky as he got the clover crown started, but once he’d gotten the rhythm down, he just kept gazing upwards.

“Pretty stars...” He murmured.

“I know.” You looked up at the sky, at all the stars twinkling and winking back at you. “What do we think? Are there aliens up there with them?”

“Mm... Maybe.”

You looked down at Jisung, mouth quirked up in an amused but affectionate smile. “Yeah?”

“Well, space is pretty big.”

After a pause, you nodded. “Okay, sure. Why not?”

“Seriously?” Renjun was looking at you over his shoulder incredulously. “I’ve done actual research on this, I’ve tried to succinctly make real arguments for you multiple times since we met, I chose it for my PowerPoint night topic with actual scientific studies and facts. And Jisung just bats his eyelashes at you and says ‘space is big’ and you’re convinced?”

He looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. You froze, looking around at all of your friends that had turned to witness this interaction like you were the movie instead.

Jisung frowned. “I didn’t bat my eyelashes. Did I bat my eyelashes?”

“You kind of did, Jisung.” Chenle reached over to ruffle his hair, and the dragon swatted his hand away, earning a cackle from the fairy.

“Uhh...” You scrambled to think of a way to placate your human friend. “I think I just needed some time to get my head around the idea, Renjun. You know, I think the next time you really would have persuaded me, but Jisung just beat you to it, sorry.”

Renjun didn’t seem convinced, but just rolled his eyes and looked back to the movie. “Yeah, I’m sure I would’ve gotten you next time, Y/N. Tin foil hat and all.”

The others all turned back to the movie now that the spectacle was over, except for Jaemin, whose attention was still on your boyfriend.

“Jisung? When’d you learn to make clover crowns?” He asked curiously, head tilted.

“Hm? Oh, Y/N showed me.” Jisung replied absentmindedly, looking down at his hands as if he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

Jaemin looked at you with wide eyes, and you looked back at him sheepishly in a silent conversation, as you both were definitely thinking of the exact same thing.

The day that Jaemin had shown you how to make clover crowns, he’d told you an oral tradition that was passed down among dryads about them. Your friends were always happy to indulge your interest in the folklore and religious/spiritual aspect of Magical Creatures Studies, especially in contrast to Renjun’s sometimes militant laser focus on the current socioeconomic-political structure of modern society.

It was a story about two dryads who were in love. One had to leave—depending on who was telling the story, it was a trip, a war, or a kidnapping; Jaemin opted for a dangerous trip—for an indeterminate amount of time. The other dryad waited, and weaved a clover crown every day until their lover came back to them. Nowadays, dryads will weave clover crowns for their loved ones, it’s a treasured tradition for older members of families to show young relatives how to do it, and elaborate clover crowns with specific flowers will sometimes be given as confessions or special gifts to romantic partners. Clover crowns are connected to the idea of love for dryads.

And judging by the look Jaemin was giving you, he was not going to ascribe this one to cultural differences.

Donghyuck had whipped around at this revelation as well, and smacked Jaemin’s arm to get his attention. The two dryads leaned their heads together to have a hushed conversation of fervent whispers, and you desperately hoped that whatever they were saying was both quiet enough for your friends with super hearing to not be able to distinguish, and vague enough that if it could be overheard, it wouldn’t make any sense to them. Well, specifically Jisung.

You were walking a very narrow tightrope of wanting your friends to find you two out so you could get it over with, while also not needing them to find out this way, since Jisung didn’t even know about the meaning behind the clover crowns. Your relationship was still new, fresh, bubbly, and good; you two hadn’t even said ‘I love you’ yet. Based on how the dragon had reacted to just you discussing the societal concept of marriage in an academic context before, you wanted to approach the whole ‘I love you’ situation with a lot more tact than your friends would surely have.

You’d been nervously watching the two dryads when a tap on your shoulder stole your attention back. You looked down at Jisung attentively. “Yeah, Sungie?”

“Here,” he said simply, holding up the finished clover crown for you.

Despite the anxious pretzels that your stomach was knotting itself into, you couldn’t help but smile fondly at both the crown and Jisung. “Ah, you’ve gotten a lot better, Ji.”

You were just moving a few of the buds aside to inspect his improved weave pattern when he spoke up again.

“Are you going to put it on or give me a grade on my clover crown weaving?” He pouted at you.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized, placing the crown atop your head. “There. Happy?”

He sighed melodramatically. “I suppose...”

“You want your own?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Hush and watch the movie, I’ll make you one.”

At the end of the movie, you were satisfied with the fact that all of your friends had ended up staying with you this time. After holding out the convenience store bag for everyone to throw their trash into, you momentarily left the group to throw that bag out in a large campus trash can. The others stayed back to pack up all the blankets and such.

You weren’t alone for long, as Donghyuck sidled up next to you and fell into step with you.

“Great Pan, you’re practically betrothed!” He sighed, putting a hand on his chest.

You gave him an unamused look, but didn’t reply, continuing your route through the mass of other students.

“Y/N, seriously,” he sighed, leaning against the wall by the can as you tossed the bag in the trash. “What’s this whole song and dance about? How can we be more obvious? You two like each other. Do you need to hear him say it? Will that finally convince you?”

You opened your mouth, about to just blurt it out, finally end this whole stupid charade, be done with it, with everything. But Donghyuck was still. Talking.

“I mean, I thought I’d had my fill of playing matchmaker for the oblivious and hopeless on spring break—” He laughed to himself, seemingly remembering something funny, which you had no clue what on earth he was talking about. “—but you two are really something else.”

Setting your jaw, you spun on your heel and walked away, leaving him to scramble his way through the crowd to catch up with you.

“Hey! Y/N! Wait! Was it something I said?”

Knocking on the door of Jisung and Chenle’s apartment, you bounced from heel to toe as you waited for your boyfriend to answer the door. Usually, you two didn’t hang out at his place unless he knew Chenle was going to be out all day, or for several days. It was just a lot easier to relax at your apartment with no roommates. But he’d texted asking you to meet him ASAP, so you’d yanked your shoes on and hurried over.

You heard the familiar sounds of the door unlocking, then it was swung open. Except Jisung wasn’t on the other side.

“Y/N.” Chenle greeted you with a curt nod, not seeming very surprised that you were there. Well, they did have a rather robust security system thanks to His Highness here in front of you, so he had probably checked the front door camera before answering it.

“Oh hey, Chenle.” You smiled at the fairy as he stepped back to let you in, and followed him further in towards the living room. Looking around, you couldn’t spot your boyfriend. In fact, in the back of your mind, you realized that a pair of his sneakers were missing by the front door. “Where’s Ji?”

“Grocery run.” 

Weird. His text made it sound like an emergency, or at least extremely important. To text you to meet him ASAP and then just go to the grocery store... Maybe he had gotten a new game in and just wanted to show you immediately, then realized he was out of snacks. That definitely sounded like Jisung. Deciding that it was probably something like that, you looked back to his roommate, a little sheepish, “Uh, do you mind if I wait for him, then? He texted me to meet him here.”

“No, he didn’t. I did from his phone, right before I asked him to go get me some cough drops for my sore throat that I don’t have.” Chenle admitted freely, perching on the arm of a leather armchair and focusing an unreadable expression on you.

“I see.” You nodded, leaning against the couch opposite the room from him. “So, what did you want to talk to me about that you had to use such methods to do so?”

“Y/N. We both know that Jisung is stupid.”

“Woah, tell me how you really feel, Chenle,” you chuckled, trying to keep your voice light.

“And you’re not.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“So, at this point, either you’re being intentionally obtuse, or you’re stringing Jisung along. And I’m not going to sit back and let anyone do that to him.”

Your eyes widened at the hard edge Chenle’s tone had taken, and the faint lime green glow emanating off of him. “Uh—”

“Jaemin and Donghyuck are always talking about being in tune with nature, sensing humans, knowing what’s in a human’s heart. They’re into all that crap. I know humans. You’re more like fae than you like to think.” He was practically spitting his words out now, unable to sit still, pacing the floor in front of the armchair. Slowing to a stop again, he pivoted on his heel to set his sharp eyes back on you—except they weren’t his usual dark brown, they were an electric, glowing, burning neon green. “So you’re going to either actually make the first move on that moron, or reject him. Today.”

Oh the jig was so up. Just as you were about to figuratively spill your guts—in order to keep from having them literally spilled for you—the click of the front door shutting echoed through the apartment. You didn’t dare take your eyes off the fairy in front of you, though.

“Chenle, stop it.” Jisung sighed from behind you, and you did finally snap your head around when you heard his voice, relief flooding your being when you saw your boyfriend.

Chenle’s eyes immediately flickered back to a chocolate brown, all glow gone, and he offered a placid smile to the dragon. “Oh, Jisung. Quick grocery trip. And you didn’t even get my lozenges.”

“I was all the way at the store when I realized I forgot my wallet,” the dragon deadpanned, clearly not believing his roommate’s act, which the fairy was well aware of. He made his way over to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Leave her alone, Chenle. She’s not deceiving me.”

“We’re kind of deceiving all of you.” You confessed to the fairy, bracing yourself for what was to come.

“Yeah, we’ve uh, we’ve been dating for two months,” Jisung confirmed with a nod.

“You… what?” Chenle’s jaw dropped, genuine disbelief on his face this time.

You added, “We wanted to see how long it would take you guys to notice.”

“And see how far you’d take your meddling. I’m honestly surprised it took this long to escalate to threats from you, Chenle. But I was expecting them to be aimed at me, not Y/N. Something along the lines of ‘actually ask her out or I’ll hex you,’ not this.” Jisung then looked at you, features turning concerned and voice softer. “I’m sorry, by the way, if I thought this was even a remote possibility, I would have called this off sooner. Are you okay?”

“I know, Jisung, I know you would’ve. I’m fine, I promise,” you reassured him quietly, tilting your head closer as he pressed a quick peck to your temple.

Chenle didn’t seem to be paying you two much attention anymore, stumbling towards the other end of the couch that you and Jisung were standing at. “You not only played a trick without me, but you played it on me?”

He dramatically clutched at his chest like he’d been stabbed. “You caused mischief and strife without me? Wreaked havoc and I was none the wiser? Pulled the wool over my eyes?”

He finally sat down on the couch, falling back against the plush cushions as if he were going to perish at any second, throwing a hand over his face for good measure.

“Is he okay?” You leaned over to ask Jisung quietly.

“He’ll probably continue these theatrics for another five to ten minutes, then we can have a real conversation,” Jisung informed you.

“I heard all of that!” Chenle pointed an accusatory finger at you two.

“Chenle, how about we make it up to you?” You offered.

Your boyfriend looked at you with wide eyes, making a slicing motion over his neck with one hand, clearly signaling you to back off of doing that. You were well aware that making any kind of deal with a fairy was a bad idea, especially one that would put you in their debt.

The fairy didn’t move, instead letting out a fake sob.

“Help us play one last trick on the rest of the guys. A grand finale.”

Jisung squinted at you, clearly having no clue what the hell you were talking about. Which was fair, because you had just come up with it on the spot.

Chenle shot up into a sitting position, looking alive and well now. He laced his hands together over his lap. “Do tell.”

“I do have to say Jisung, you chose well. She’s practically a fairy,” Chenle declared, patting his roommate on the shoulder. The three of you were hiding behind a building on your college’s campus, peeking around at the main courtyard to spy on Mark, Donghyuck, and Renjun standing and having a conversation.

“I hate this.” Jisung huffed, crossing his arms.

You rubbed his other shoulder with a concerned frown, “We don’t have to do it if you really don’t like it, Sungie.”

“No, I mean you two getting along. I know the prank is fake.”

“Aw, afraid that I’m going to replace you with her as my partner in crime, Jisung?” Chenle teased. “Don’t worry, I think I’ve just found another accomplice. We’ll be a trio instead of a duo.”

The fairy’s eyes seemed to glitter at the prospect, and not just with the usual amount of magic that was in them.

“You are not roping Y/N in, too,” Jisung insisted.

“I don’t know, Sungie. Kinda sounds fun.” You shrugged, always hearing the two of them recount their misadventures together—or witnessing the odd one here or there—but never having the opportunity to join them properly before.

“See?” Chenle grinned smugly.

Jisung huffed again, this time a puff of smoke coming out of his nose. “Like I said. I hate this.”

“Anyway, there they are. You go in first, Jisung.” Chenle had finally spotted your last two targets, Jeno and Jaemin, joining the others.

“See you in a second, Sungie.” You gave him a final double thumbs up for encouragement before he took off towards them.

After a beat of silence, Chenle suddenly proclaimed, “I like you for Jisung.”

“Uh, thanks, Mr. Park, I have to say, you look great for your age.” You joked, arching a bemused eyebrow at your friend.

“That would be funny if either I or Jisung were human,” he replied humorously. “But I’m being serious. You know how Jisung and I met, right?”

“Yes, I do.” You nodded solemnly.

Chenle had found Jisung on the outskirts of his kingdom back home, a little dragon curled up all alone under a bush in a rainstorm, no other dragons in sight. At the time, Chenle himself was only a boy as well. Jisung didn’t talk much about his life before Chenle, and you didn’t know if he could even remember a lot, if anything, about it. The two of them were pretty much brothers; you knew what it meant for Chenle to say that to you.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Your words could have been joking, or even an insult, but you hoped he could hear the sincerity in your voice as you bumped your shoulder with his. The fairy nodded, and bumped you back.

“Anyway, you think it’s been enough time?” Chenle craned his neck to peer around the corner again.

“Probably.”

“Alright, showtime,” Chenle held his hand out for you, and you grabbed it.

The two of you emerged from around the corner hand-in-hand, striking up a nonsense conversation about Chenle’s latest assignment in one of his classes. You pretended like you just happened to spot the cluster of all of your friends, delight, surprise, and recognition coming to your features as you lifted your other hand to wave to them. You watched as all their jaws dropped in unison—minus Jisung’s—and they started looking around at each other. You and Chenle walked right up to them, and you offered all of them a bright smile.

“Hey guys!” You greeted them cheerily.

“Chenle this has got to be the lowest you’ve ever gone,” Donghyuck shook his head in disgust, completely ignoring your hello.

“Yeah man, Jisung’s your best friend,” Mark scoffed.

“You raised him!” Jaemin wrapped an arm around Jisung’s shoulders.

“You fed him from your hand!” Jeno stepped in front of Jisung protectively.

“Just because you’re some high and mighty fairy prince or whatever where you’re from doesn’t mean you can treat people like they’re disposable,” Renjun crossed his arms. “Here you’re just some guy like everybody else.”

“Woah!” You let go of Chenle’s hand to step in front of him with your hands up. “Guys, that’s enough!”

“I bet Y/N’s not even in control of what she’s doing,” Renjun entirely ignored you. “He’s probably got her under some fairy spell or something.”

“What the fuck?” Chenle cried out, offended.

“Yeah!” Jaemin nodded firmly. “Because she’s totally into Jisung, I know she is. I know her heart!”

“Guys!” You yelled again for their attention.

“Don’t worry, Jisungie, we’re going to get her out from under that spell,” Jaemin cooed, stroking Jisung’s face as he currently had what was practically a chokehold on the dragon that definitely looked less than comforting.

“Jeno, grab her!” Mark ordered, and the werewolf immediately started advancing on you.

“Oh my god stop it, guys! Stop! I’m not under a spell! Chenle and I aren’t dating! Jisung and I are! We’ve been dating for like two months and we pretended not to because we wanted to see how long it would take you to notice!” You yelled out, squeezing your eyes shut to brace yourself.

But there were no super strong werewolf arms grabbing you. Instead, it was silence that became one chuckle, then a giggle, then two giggles, then you were surrounded by raucous laughter. You cautiously opened your eyes to see all your friends doubled over with laughter around you, clutching their stomachs and holding onto each other for support. You and Jisung were the only ones standing up straight, immediately realizing what was going on when you made eye contact.

“Seems we’ve been made, Sungie,” you deadpanned, wading through the sea of cackling bodies until you got to your boyfriend.

“It appears so…” He sighed, looping an arm over your shoulders, and you wrapped an arm around his waist.

As they all sobered up, a few were quite literally wiping tears from their eyes, others fanning themselves, and some still clutching their sides.

“How?” You looked around, then saw a very familiar, exceptionally devilish grin. “Chenle?”

“What better trick is there to play than being a double agent?” The fairy confirmed.

“Oh, you suck,” Jisung glared at him.

“You guys tricked us first. It was much more satisfying to get one over on you than to keep making the idiots look like idiots.”

“Hey!” Donghyuck cried out indignantly.

Chenle caught your eye to say, “I do mean what I said, Y/N.”

You nodded in understanding. “Thanks, Chenle.”

“Alright, I think we all learned some very important lessons,” Mark announced, getting everyone in a disjointed huddle. “Like…”

“Don’t be so nosy,” Jeno started off genuinely.

“Make sure the people you’re setting up aren’t already dating, or they might make you look like idiots,” Renjun added.

“Double check human emotions with a unicorn if you’re having doubts,” Jaemin sighed wistfully.

“Never go out to eat with Y/N and Jisung. Especially if there’s fries involved,” Donghyuck shivered, and you rolled your eyes. He was seriously never going to let that go.

“I’ve got two partners in crime now, so everybody else needs to sleep with their third eye open.” Chenle grinned.

“That I’m never getting into a prank war with any of you people again. This was too stressful, school’s bad enough,” you groaned with a shake of your head.

“Chenle’s an asshole,” Jisung hissed at his roommate.

“I think Jisung needs to do his over, he already knew that about me,” Chenle drawled with a facetious whine.

“Fine. Chenle’s an asshole who needs to understand that if he threatens my girlfriend again, he’s going to get burned to crisp.”

The fairy shrugged, “I’ll take it.”

“Great, you guys.” Mark beamed at you all proudly.

“What about you, Mark? What’d you learn?” Donghyuck prompted him teasingly.

“That Y/N and Jisung are dating. Duh.”

“Right. Yeah, yeah.” There were murmurs of agreement from the gaggle of creatures around you.

“So, truce?” You offered a hand out in the middle of the huddle to nobody in particular.

All six of them grabbed your hand at once and shook it. “Truce!”

“So…” Donghyuck fluttered his eyelashes at you. “How’d it happen? What’s the story?”

You scoffed, “No.”

“What? You lead us on for two months and now you won’t even tell us how you got together?”

“It’s not some big dramatic thing, sorry,” Jisung admitted. “Just kind of finally happened.”

“What do you mean ‘finally happened?’ Like, how did it ‘finally happen?’”

You exchanged a look with Jisung. With an eye roll, you indulged the dryad a little. “We were hanging out at the park one day and just sort of... I don’t know! Confessed! Got together! Whatever you want to call it!”

“Lame.” Renjun yawned. “Call me when you two get married.”

Jisung started forward in surprise. “Wh—”

“Because there hasn’t been a recorded human-dragon marriage, Sungie.” You patted your boyfriend on the chest reassuringly. “He’s just being an MCS major.”

“Oh. Right.”

The human abruptly gasped. “Wait! Can I write my final paper for Dr. Kwon’s class on you two?”

“Hell no.”

A few weeks later, and you were reclined against Jisung’s headboard, waiting for him to get back from the kitchen with snacks. You two were playing a new two-player game Jisung had gotten, and as soon as you had showed up, Chenle loudly announced his intention to go hangout at Jeno and Jaemin’s and very probably sleep over too, since they also planned on gaming until very late. You figured your friends’ “matchmaking” behavior would stop once they knew that you and Jisung were together, but apparently not.

At the reappearance of your boyfriend in the doorway, juggling several different containers, you set your phone aside. He managed to put them all down on his nightstand without dropping them. You scooted forward and re-fluffed the pillows behind you to make room for him and his wings.

Jisung’s wings weren’t out frequently—you yourself had only seen them a handful of times in the couple years that you’d known him. Dragons either had to be entirely shirtless or wear specially cut shirts in order to have them out comfortably. Most stores didn’t carry shirts in a style that allowed for dragon wings, allegedly since there were so few dragons it “wasn’t profitable” to make them. So dragons were then forced to make their own, have their clothes altered, or order from online specialty shops. Jisung usually just didn’t bother with it, as he claimed it was more of a pain to get the shirts than it was to just keep his wings away. But you and Chenle had started a master plan of slowly sneaking the dragon cut shirts into Jisung’s wardrobe until it was 50/50. You two also had a bet going of how long until Jisung grew suspicious of the rising number of shirts. So far, both of you were still in the running at two weeks.

Tonight, it seemed Jisung had found one of the new dragon cut shirts, just a simple black tank top from the front, but the back was cut into two side panels and a middle section that draped open to allow plenty of space for his midnight blue wings to rest behind him.

Except Jisung didn’t scoot on the bed behind you like you expected. He just kept standing next to it, looking at you, one hand fidgeting with the gold chains around his neck.

“Sungie?” You said his name quietly. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head as if to shake himself from a trance, though that same pensive look didn’t leave his face. “Sorry, just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Y/N, I want you to have this.” He grabbed one of the necklaces by the chain and took it off. With no hesitation, he reached forward and put it around your own neck. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched his every move, and the intense look on his face as he did so.

The necklace was beautiful, an immaculately kept dazzling gold chain of medium thickness, and hanging from it, a simple, shining gold sun pendant, about the size of your thumbnail. The metal was warm from already touching Jisung, and sat heavy against your skin.

“Y-You’re giving me this?” You held the sun with delicate fingers, as if afraid it would actually burn you, looking up at him in shock.

“Yeah. I don’t know, it just... makes me happy seeing you wear it.” He said, sounding almost confused at his own actions.

Letting you borrow a hoodie was one thing—a big thing, but still, only a hoodie. Giving you a piece of jewelry that he was wearing—part of his hoard—you didn’t know how to compute this. Jisung wasn’t around a lot of dragons for most of his life, so you knew that the exact cultural significance of the action wasn’t there. But that significance came from dragons’ instinctual hoarding nature, which was still ingrained in him. For it to make him happier to see you wearing a piece of his hoard than to keep it for himself… you really thought your heart might explode.

“Y/N?” Jisung lightly touched your arm, worry coloring his tone. “D-Do you not like it?”

“No! No, Sungie. I love it, thank you,” you beamed at him genuinely. You caressed his cheek with the backs of your fingers, eyes going a little misty as you looked up from the glinting gold of the necklace to the midnight blue eyes of your dragon. You were happy, so happy that if you didn’t say something, do something, it felt like you really might burst.

You turned your hand over to cup his cheek, pulling him closer and pressing your lips to his. He made a small noise, and suddenly dropped down to sit on the bed with you. Jisung kissed you back just as ardently, one hand trailing down from the back of your neck to your collarbone then below the hollow of your throat, tracing the path of the jewelry along your skin.

When you had to pull back from the kiss for air, you shifted back fully to look him in the eye, still cradling his face. You inhaled, “I—”

“Wait!”

You stopped mid-sentence at Jisung’s outburst, snapping your mouth shut and looking at him with big, confused eyes.

“Sorry, uhm, I know what you were about to say, and I also know that I’ve been weird whenever you or Renjun brought up your Interspecies Marriage class.” Jisung seemed to notice how your expression became more and more alarmed as he spoke, and he grabbed your hand that had frozen on his face, holding it with both of his. He rubbed soothing circles into the back of your hand as he continued, “I don’t want you to think that I’m not serious about you, because I am. N-not marriage or anything like that right now. But I’m serious about this, about you. I am. So I just, I wanted to say it first.”

“Okay.” You let out a breath of relief and smiled at him encouragingly.

Jisung just kept gazing at you, mouth slightly parted, thumb rubbing circles into your hand. The only indication that time hadn’t literally frozen was the slight shift of his wings adjusting behind him, and when he eventually blinked.

Finally, you couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Jisung?” You said his name, wetting your lips awkwardly. “Like, you wanted to say it now, or not yet?”

“Sorry, yeah, no, now.” He reassured you, taking a deep breath. His eyes still seemed to be drinking you in, though, gaze lingering on the sun hanging from your neck. “You’re just so beautiful… It really does make me so happy to see you wearing that. More than happy, I don’t know how to describe it, but—”

Then suddenly you were on your back, and all you could see was Jisung and midnight blue with flashes of gold. A surprised giggle came out of your mouth as Jisung nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You felt a hot puff of air wash over your skin, and you reveled in the comforting, smoky smell surrounding you.

“But now I think I understand all those fairytales where the dragon keeps the princess in their tower and never lets her go.”

You stroked the back of his head, running your hand down his neck and shoulders, stopping just above where his wings start, then back up to weave your fingers in his hair. With a content sigh, you said softly, “I love you, too.”

Your dragon pushed himself up to hover above you so you could see his disgruntled pout. “I wanted to say it first.”

“I think you just did.” You laughed giddily.

“Well... still, I love you.” Jisung brushed his nose with yours for a tender moment before slotting his mouth with yours in a searing kiss. You truly felt like you could never get used to kissing Jisung, a child of the Sun, someone with the very heart of a mountain inside him. In between kisses, he murmured seemingly absentmindedly, “My princess...”

You smiled against his lips, indulging in one, two more sweltering kisses before you mumbled back, “My dragon.”

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

#nct dream x reader #jisung x reader #nct x reader #park jisung x reader #nct dream imagine #jisung imagine #park jisung imagine #nct imagine #sungie #park jisung #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jisung fluff #park jisung fluff #i: jisung #writing #mine #text #f: tdhea #au: strawberry sunday #*100

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

tumblr.com/emdeerm insert-that-spiderman-meme

based on this prompt and the amazing fanfic "Wait I'm a Cartoon Over Here?!"

Ahem Damian flopped onto his bed, exhausted after having had to clean the bat litter once more, as per Alfred's instruction. However, that exhaustion was punctuated by an underlying satisfaction. Despite everything, he and Richard had succeeded. They made contact with Team Phantom (part of him felt dizzy and giddy at the notion, but he'd impale anyone who'd suggest it) and managed to keep Father and the others from combusting at the notion of their existence. Phantom had sworn up and down to never expose their identities, knowing just how important they are. ("You were my hero since I was 7, I'd rather eat Dash's underwear again than betray your trust!") If only he knew...

Speaking of whom, Damian clamped his hands of his ears as the girlish squealing in this room entered a fever pitch. He was starting to regret allowing Kent to enter the Manor while team Phantom were visiting.

"DANNY DANNY DANNY DANNY DANNY I'M SUCH A HUGE FAN OF YOU CAN YOU PLEASE SIGN THIS AND THIS AND THIS AND-" Damian could've sworn that's the spiel Jonathan had opened with about twenty minutes ago. Fenton, for his part, was doing his best to withstand the onslaught of super-powered pre-teen fandom.

He'd never be caught dead doing something so... debased. So petty and pointless as to gawk at a fictional character. He, the blood son of the Bat and his future successor.

"Come on Damian, aren't you excited too?" His heart rate spiked. Blast. How quickly could he break into Father's kryptonite vault...

"You sure you wanna mess him with right now? He really looks like he could kill you, and I read the issue where he tried to murder Tim."

Damian prickled, even felt a hint of shame knowing that Fenton knew just as much about him as he did, how shameful. No not shameful at all, why would he care about someone who probably wasn't even real. Damian moved to sit up and shot Jonathan the deadliest glare he could muster, an expression copy-pasted right off his Father's Batglare.

Jonathan, for his part, cowered behind Fenton. "You'd do well to keep remain silent, Kent, before I remind you that your life is as fragile as a dying rat." He all but spat out. However, instead of cowering further, Jonathan's lips curled into a devious expression.

Fenton's head bounced between the two. "Maybe this personal arc hasn't been published yet..." He muttered.

"Hey Danny..." Jonathan began, hesitantly. This could not be happening. Damian grabbed the nearest katana and lunged. However, his efforts were made fruitless as he passed through the duo like they weren't there. Dammit! "I know this is kind of embarassing, but we put in a lot of work and you're like my number two inspiration after my dad and we don't know how long you'll be here so., but you gotta keep this a total secret, like a total secret, you can't tell anyone."

Jonathan reached into his backpack. Damian swung his sword again. Anything, anything to prevent the inevitable. If this were allowed to happen, his life would be forfeit. Curse his hero this hero for being so overpowered. Where was the lipstick laser when you needed it? Or the fenton thermos? or the anti-creep stick, or anything?!

However, just as Jonathan was about to retrieve the forbidden contraband, a fist flew out and blew him away. "Woah what is this?" Exclaimed one Danielle Phantom. It was at that moment that Damian knew, there was nothing more that could be done.

~~~~~

Danielle rifled through the pages of the comic book that Jon was about to pull out (which, btw, was amazing! Danny might be into Nightwing and Martian Manhunter, but she could not count the number of nights she'd dreamt of flying with the Super Sons. Basically she was never gonna wash that fist again anyway) and was shocked to find the contents. "Yo Danny, have you seen this??"

Her template/brother/cousin/dad (his status is in a weird gray area at the moment) leaned over, eyes widening too.

For within her hands was the latest issue of the celebrated fancomic, the Secret Adventures of Danny Phantom, which circulated around this universe's social media forums and the schoolyards of Metropolis and Gotham. Danielle flipped through pages upon pages of lovingly hand-drawn panels.

"I didn't know we were a comic, too! I've never looked that cool before." Danny said, nothing the cover art.

"I dont think this is official, i mean, whatever official canon means these days. Look, there's no logo from the channel our cartoon's on."

"I can't believe I have fans who know enough about me to make a fancomic." Danny groaned.

"Oh shut up, Danny. you don't see me getting any fanart." Dani teased, until she reached the beautiful two-page spread of her, Robin and Superboy swooping in to save Danny from the GiW. Special attention was placed by the artist on her hair, and the unnatural glow of her ghostly eyes. Overall it was a very flattering picture. the real Dani's jaw dropped.

Danny turned to the gaping Jon, and the limp Damian, both of whose faces were drained of colour, looking even more dead than himself on a cold day. Realisation dawned inside of him. "Wait, did you guys make this?"

His interoogation could not continue furhter before Dani squealed with excitement. She phased out of the bedroom door in an instant before anyone could react, yelling in excitement about this amazing fancomic that Damian and Jon had made, like it was fate... Her voice was followed by one Dick Grayon's comment on Damian's evolving artstyle, before more joined the chorus. As for Damian? He rolled for 60d6 psychic damage, took 300, and lost the wlil to live. Jon was not far behind.

#dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #based on another prompt #each universe exists in the other as a fictional series #How do i tag others??? #im new to tumblr plz hepl

[dantent]

𝑴𝒆𝒐𝒘𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 [𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕] 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐

A/N: Alright since you guys like the first part so much here's a part 2 but this is fr the last one 😭

Part 1

Raphael was clean but at what cost. His darling fur was drenched in water, all because of Tav. Speaking of which, they were currently lying on a bed furthest away from Raphael. The hero had to patch themselves up from all the scratches he had given them. Well deserved. If they had listened to him, it wouldn’t have come to this. The only downside was that Tav didn’t pay attention to him, as a punishment. Raphael wanted to laugh at the idea that his little mouse wanted to punish him for rightfully defending himself. Were they turned into a cat as well, they would understand his situation. 

He jumped off the bed he found most comfortable, coincidentally just the bed Tav had used before. With his silent little paws, he hurried to the only table in the room. On the desk he saw a lone potion standing just at the edge. Raphael looked over at Tav, a plan forming in his head. If Tav was unwilling to pay attention to him because “he was a rude cat”, then he had no other choice than to make them pay attention. The Devil lazily jumped on the table, walking to the edge. Apparently his maneuver made enough noise to wake Tav up. They slowly raised their head in his direction.

“Meowphael, no!” Tav jumped out of the bed. When they came closer, Raphael raised a paw and placed it just behind the potion, making continuous eye contact with the hero. Tav stopped in their track, slowly raising their hand. “No! No, bad Meowphael!” 

Raphael tilted his head to the right, giving them an innocent look. Tav took it as a sign to step closer. He didn’t do anything, not yet at least. They released a breath before taking another step. Raphael hissed at them, making Tav stop once more. In a desperate attempt, they shook their head, urging him not to do it. Oh how he laughed at them. Such an easy way to get his little mouse’s attention. But why would he stop there? He slowly pushed the bottle closer to its demise. Tav didn’t think twice and lunged at him, but it was too late as he already shoved it off.

“No!'' They jumped to the floor to catch it but it shattered on the ground. Raphael meowed before jumping off and joining them on the floor. He found this situation hilarious, especially as Tav’s unamused face stared at him. “At this point I wouldn’t even be surprised if you were actually Raphael in disguise…”

What a wonderful thought. If only they weren’t an absolute idiot. A hiss came from Raphael before he strolled over to their backpack. He occasionally looked back waiting for the hero to follow him. They were so close to the truth if only they finally used their brain instead of keeping it as a giant abyss. Raphael waited, he even sat on the floor, as much as he absolutely despised doing so. Yet the hero just lied there, staring back at him. Raphael would’ve rolled his eyes if he could.

“What?” Tav asked, clearly not amused by his previous stunt. Raphael meowed and stood up, continuing his way to the bag. Once he got to it, he looked back at his little mouse. In his mind, Raphael tried to urge them forward. Now he wished he didn’t bet his entire future on an utter fool. “No, I won’t give you any more potions! Get away from my bag!” 

Raphael growled before attacking the backpack. He could hear Tav’s hurried steps but he didn’t care. As much as he hated to admit it, Raphael genuinely missed being able to talk to someone. In his House of Hope, people were obliged to listen to his ramblings but now he couldn’t even make the hero of Baldur’s Gate understand him. He grew more frustrated by the minutes, wishing to strip himself from this curse. Raphael turned to them expectedly. They finally arrived, crossing their arms before glancing at the bag.

“Stop destroying my bag!” they scolded him. Did he have to do everything himself? Raphael meowed and slowly turned to the bag. “You want food? A potion? What?” 

He hissed in anger before burying himself in the new opening he had made with his claws. The Devil grabbed the potion of animal speaking again and tried pulling it out. Before he could fully get it out of the bag however, Tav grabbed it from him to inspect the bottle. Raphael growled in return, raging at how he was treated. 

“Potion of animal speaking?” they gasped. “You wanted to talk to me this whole time?” 

Finally, he thought. At least his little mouse understood him in the end. If they helped him out, maybe he was willing to forget what he had gone through to get the result he wanted. Maybe. But more likely than not, Tav was going to face the consequences of making fun of him – Raphael. As he thought about the various ways Tav would pay for this mockery, they drank the potion. 

“Took you long enough.” Raphael meowed. Tav’s eyes widening was a clear indication that they finally heard what he had to say. “Were you going to wait a moment longer I-”

He was interrupted by laughter. The hero laughed at him. Raphael growled ever so angrily, his animalistic instincts taking over, thus attacking Tav’s leg. But his little mouse had learned from their previous mistake and grabbed him before he could do any significant damage. They raised him in the air, smiling at him. 

“I’m sorry I just…” Tav couldn’t finish their sentence because they were wheezing, straight into his face. He tried scratching them, but they made sure to keep him far away. “You’re a cat!” 

“Astonishing observation.” he growled. “Now put me down or else!” 

“Or else?” they could barely breathe by now. “What are you going to do? Meow my ear off?” 

Raphael screamed at them in anger. How dare they. He was Raphael! This temporary setback was a pain in his ass, sure, but this travesty would be taken no more! He tried with all his might to at least scratch their skin, but their hands kept him firmly in the air. 

“Gods, stop it!” they yelled at him in between a few laughs. “Seriously, this won’t help you…”

“Let me go this instant you impudent moron!” he tried kicking them with his legs. 

Tav chuckled at the attempt. “First, you have to promise me not to destroy anything else. Bad kitties don’t get to enjoy their freedom.”

“Call me that again, worm and I’ll show you just how hot the flames of Avernus can burn!” He was furious at this point. Never had he been ridiculed to this extent in his life. Tav was going to face serious punishment once he transformed back. Raphael imagined how he would-

“Alright, alright, no need to get angry.” they sighed. “But, if you want my help, we have to come to an agreement…”

“The agreement will be that you get to keep your sorry little life as long as I am in this cursed form. But believe me, pet, your insults are going to have dire consequences.” Raphael grumbled. 

“Promise me that you won't destroy my things.” Tav shook their head, clearly not taking his warnings seriously. Utter fool. 

“You think you’re in any place to-”

“Who is held up in the air right now?” they raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine. Laugh while you can little mouse, the cat’s claws are soon closing in around you.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” Tav placed him down and he stretched his aching limbs. Once he felt comfortable, he hissed at the hero. “Unbelievable. Will you at least tell me what happened to you?”

Raphael tilted his head for a moment, considering their request. “No.”

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 tav #bg3 one shot

[colesluvr]

Hello ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙‼️ can i request a movie! Lloyd x male reader where they are both best friends (who obliviously have a crush on each other but are clueless) and like one day m!reader gets in danger and the green ninja just saves him⁉️ and then like m!reader just like fanboys over the green ninja and rants about him to Lloyd ⁉️

Never Meet Your Idols, They Say | Lloyd Garmadon X Male Reader

hellooo anon! how are you doing?? ty for the request, this was so fun to write! movie!lloyd has my heart, so does the full movie! i really hope you enjoy this, sorry for any spelling mistakes. whats funny is that english is my first language. lmaooo. also this the crappeist shit i've ever written, why does this seem so cringe. cursing warning!

"Who ya' texting"

You let out a scream, jumping at the sound of Kai's voice just by your ear. You turned around to see the brunette smirking. You felt eyes all fall onto you as Kai leaned against the locker beside your open one. You place your phone into your pocket as you calmed your breathibg.

"Bastard, you scared the living hell outa' me!" You slapped his arm as you covered your face with your sweater as everyone went back to their own thing.

"Aw, is Y/N a lil'scaredy cat?" Kai teased, pinching your cheek like a little kid. You glared at your friend before grabbing his hair in an attempt to mess it up.

"Ay, ay, ay! Hair is off limits, y'know that, man!" Kai shouts, letting go of your cheek, all eyes on you both once more before they all just ignored you both.

You let go of Kai's hair, seeing a patch of it messed up. You grinned, feeling proud of yourself as Kai glared.

"I was just coming over to say hi, is that a crime?!" Kai cried, trying his best to fix his hair with his hand as you opened your locker door and placed your backpack inside it, taking out your textbooks for todays class.

Suddenly, the doors swung open and Zane and Lloyd entered the school. Everyone around who say them turned away or walked the opposite way to avoid the boy.

"BRO!," Kai smiled as he jumped and shouted for his friend. "Dude, give me a hug, man, give me a birthday huug!" Kai smiled as he trapped Lloyd in a hug, lifting him off the ground his feet barely touching the floor. "Kai," he laughed as he was lifted off the floor, "That's a good one,"

"Birthday hug?" Zane suddenly smiled as he spoke, "Let me get in on that," Zane opened his arms and scooched his way toward Kai and Lloyd. "Zane!-" Lloyd warned as he got closer, "-I'll increase the pressure dramatically," "Zane! ZAnE!"

The blonde squeaked as Zane hugged both him and Kai, now lifting Kai off the ground. Lloyd was stuck between them like a piece of meat in a sandwich.

You laughed at the sight, suddenly feeling a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see Cole and Jay standing behind you.

"Oh, hey guys!" You greeted them. Cole replied with a nod before vibing to his music from his boombox that was rested on his shoulder, and Jay smiled and waved at you saying hello.

You looked back to the other three to see them walk toward you, Cole, and Jay. You and Lloyd made eye contact and a smile formed on your lips. You took a single step toward them before suddenly a motorbike engine caused you to jump fright, again.

Nya soon game swirving through the end of the hallway on her motorbike. She had a grin on her face as she skids to a stop, leaving bike tracks on the school floor behind her.

"Hey guys!" She greeted.

"Hey Nya." Everyone replied.

"Hey Nya, where'd you get the new bike, at the...great..stuff store?" Jay chuckled nervously, hiding his blush under his orange scarf as Cole rolled his eyes.

"Guys! Check out my new paint-job!" She smirked, you all looked down to see her new design on her motorcycle. Just by her foot, "The Lady-Iron Dragon!" She told, "My HERO!"

Before anyone could say anything about it, "Hey everybody, look!" Chad's voice caused you all to look down the hall to see Chad and two cheerleaders grin at you all evily, "It's Garma'DORK' and the DORK'squad!"

You rolled your eyes,, crossing your arms as Chad continued to talk. "You want to hear our new cheer?"

Oh god

"L-L-O-Y-D,, his dad is bad and so is he. Boo Lloyd,, Boo Lloyd."

"BOO LLOYD!" Chad screamed the ending. Everyone gave them a 'what-the-fuck' look but Lloyd gave them a awkward smile. "Greeat chant! I'll bet you got a number one hit on your hands!"

As soon as Lloyd said that, the bell rang. Everyone soon scattered the hallways getting to their class. You all said bye before heading to class, but before you and Lloyd left you waited until he closed his locker and locked it.

"Hey, happy birthday!" You handed Lloyd agreen wrapping paper with a darker green bow decorated on top of it. Lloyd hesitaded for a moment before smiling and taking the present.

"Thanks, Y/N. See you after school? We were planning on ging to that new bubble tea shack that just opened up, there treat apparently, probably because it's my birthday. Although they don't all need to get me bubble tea, but it would be nice-"

"Garmadon and L/N!" The princopals voice caused you and your best friend to flinch. "Get to class or you both will be on hall duty for the next week!" You both said goodbye before heading different ways daon the hall to get to class, refusing to make eye contact with the principal.

-

It was the end of the day and through the middle of the day Garmadon's forces attacked. Thankfully the secert Ninja force jumped in and stopped Garmadon's forces from taking over Ninjago, for the millionth time this year.

Seriously, when is that guy going to get the hint he will never win.

Anyway, you were on the school bus home where you would walk to meet up with the others. Since Lloyd texted your the address, you assumed you would quickly run home before leaving.

The bus ride was smooth, sure some kids were being loud and just being teenagers, but that's how you act around the others so you didn't say anything because we all know you act the same way with your friends.

You had your ear buds in, unable to hear anything in the outside world. As you looked out the window you could see something in the distance by the beach. The bus was driving on a freeway that shows the entire beach and water. You squint your eyes to get a better view of what you were looking at.

You gasp when you realized.

More of Garmadon's shark crew were arriving once again for a second try you assumed, but this time they seemed more prepaired. They had jets, land machines that overran the beach in seconds.

As you took out your phone to dial Lloyd, your mouth gaped open slightly seeing something emerge out of the water.

It was a large black mech with the head of a shark. And in the driver's seat was no one but, Lord Garmadon himself. More kids on the bus soon saw it and made their way toward the window, pushing you out of the way and onto a seat.

As the driver tried to get the kids to sit back down, you quickly dialed Lloyd and placed the phone to your ear.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up, pic-"

"Y/N?" Lloyd's voice was heard on the other end of the phone. "There you are, we're waiting for you by the bubble tea shack, I thoughy you said you-"

"Lloyd! Your dad's back! And he seems pretty ticked off! There's these weird shark mechs running around, destroying everything. it's bad."

Lloyd and the others looked at each other, and before he could reply, shark airships were seen fly over the city in less then two seconds, them hitting buildindgs, shooing lasers.

Everybody soon started to panic, scream, and run around to get to safety has Garmadon attacked the city. The group nod before running off.

Lloyd put his phone by his ear, "Y/N?! Where are you?"

"Uh- on the school bus just by the freeway. We are-"

The sound of clashing and crashing and people's screams caused Lloyd's heart to sink. "Y/N!?" He called out multiple times, waiting for a response. He ran faster to the warehouse, where he would meet up with the others.

"Crap!" Lloyd cursed under his breath when the phone line cut off, leaving you in who knows what.

"Shit!" You yelled as the bus was hit by a laser beam, the bus struggled to stay on road, your phone flying out the window. Everyone swirved to try and stay put and not fall over, but the road was basically destoryed.

The bus skid off to the side, falling on it's side causing evryone on bored to fall to the floor, forcing themselves to hold on top something.

Suddenly, the bus stopped. You were hidden under a seat as you tried to protect your body the best you can. However, something seemed off. You felt like something was off. You leaned over to peek out the window. Rookie mistake. You covered your scream to not move the bus too much because one movement could send this bus falling to it's doom.

It was inches from falling off the edge of the freeway.

"Is everybody okay?" You called out, making sure nobody was hurt. Thankfully, nobody was injured. "Okay, good. Nobody move!"

"What do you mean?" A boy cried out, "I'm getting out of here, this was the worst bus ride ever!" As he go up, you tried to shout at him to sit down. "BOY I WILL STRANGLE YOU, SIT YO' ASS DOWN!" And so he did. However this caused everyone to get all riled up, trying to look out the window to see what the problem was.

Suddenly this one girl screamed when she saw the bus was inches away from falling. "OMG WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"

"WE AIN'T DYING, SIT DOWN AND DON'T MOVE AND WE'LL BE FINE!"

"Screw you, man! I'm livin' , you however can stay here and fall to your death!"

"Omg-" You whispered under your breath as the driver, you, and most kids tried to get kids under control until help arrived.

You, yourself started to panic. What if the Ninja's don't rescue you in time? Are the others okay? Anything coul have happened to them! Why couldn't Garmadon wait to attack UNTIL you've gotten home?! That way you could be with the others and know their okay.

Throught your thought the bus suddenly started to move. Everyone thinking it was falling forward and about to hit the ground, you all hugged each other and screamed. However, that wasn't the case. You peeked one eye open to look out the window. You saw buildings fly past as you did.

The bus was in the air, not falling to the ground. Most kids pushed each other away, your buddy did the same to you realizing they weren't falling.

You all ran to a window and looked up to see the Green Ninja's dragon hold up the bus. All the kids started to cheer for the Ninja.

You, however, were smiling like a dork. Out of all the Ninja's that culd save you you're favorite Ninja saves you?! Tell me your dreaming?

You felt the wheels on the bus hit a safe patch of road, the emergency back opening and all the kids ran outside to see the Ninja. You were the last to come out, You saw the Water Ninja in the distance, checking to see if kids were okay before leaving in her mech.

As you exited the bus, you were suddenly in the arms of the Green Ninja. He squeezed you tight, a relief laugh escaped his mouth.

"Oh thank goodness your okay! I on't what I woul do if-" Suddenly he stopped talking and you are literally just standing, frozen in shock and exciement. He pulled back and dusted off your sweater and cleared his throat, "If-If I didn't come and save you all." He awkwardly pats your shoulder and moved back, not wanting to scare you anymore.

"Are you okay?" He asked and you nod, slowly, still progressing that you are talking to the Green Ninja. "Good...good. Uh, I-I'd advise you stay inside, find shealter and don't come out until the all clear is given. You know, the ususal."

"I love you."

Silence.

"What?"

"Sorry! Sorry, that-that came out...weird. Uh,-" You chuckled awkwardly. You could see the blush the Ninja gave you as you said that. Even though his face was covered, you could see he was flustered by his stutters.

"Your-Your my favorite Ninja! You-You remind me so much like a friend." You admitted, your cheeks turning hot by the second.

"Uh-No-No I don't. Even if I did, who would-would that be?" He coughed.

"Uh, he's-he's name's Lloyd. And-And he's the best friend I can ask for. He talks alot, he cares a lot, he always makes sure I'm okay....like you did just now."

Shoot. Lloyd thought he was caught, but, "And I love that about him. He's just amazing in everyway! He's hair is soft, he's an amazing hugger, he makes me laugh when I'm at my worst. I just wish I could pick up the courage to tell him...I love him...."

You and the Green Ninja made eye contact. He was too stunned for words. You felt your legs shake as you realized what you have said.

"I-I'm sorry! You-You probably have no idea what Im blabbering about, or even who I'm-" "-I do!"

You gave him a confused look, "Huh?"

"I-I mean, I-I don't know..w-who you're talking about, b-but he seems like a nice guy...I-I just understand...how hard it can be...to tell someone you love them...." He chuckled sheepishly.

You both were quiet for a moment before you both coughed awkwardly, understanding the moment. You noticed the Ninja looked up and back down to you after he nods, "Uh, well. I'm glad your okay, sir. Please get to safety and...good luck..with that Lloyd dude, I have a feeling things will fo smoothly with you two." He pats your shoulder before running back to his dragon.

You watched as he saluted everyone who thanked them one last time before flying off.

Your pounded against your chest. A smile formed on your lips as you watched him dissapear behind a building. "Yo! Loverbird!" A voice threw you out of your trance. You looked over to see a kid from the bus cal over to you.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lego ninjago x reader #lloyd garmadon #lloyd x reader #lloyd garmadon x reader #ninjago movie #ninjago lloyd #lego ninjago movie #ninjago lloyd x reader #ninjago imagines #x reader #imagines #colesluvr writes ★

[rosewaterandivy]

7. gold teeth and curse for this town

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: 18+, no use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations (caught masturbating, slight voyeurism), spring break shenanigans, traveling idiots, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: This chapter is borne out of my current nostalgia for travel and Southern CA that I’m going to make everyone’s problem (the end of grad school cannot come soon enough!). Get ready to repress some 6K of feelings, questionable advice and coping mechanisms - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, reposting my work, however, is not; enjoy! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

previous || next

Now, Spring Break, IND ➡️ DFW ➡️ PSP ➡️ Joshua Tree, CA

You hustle Steve out of the loft with ample time to get to the airport. Unlike some people, you operated on the maxim that early is on time and on time is late. As a result, you and Nancy made for fantastic travel companions, you and Steve however…

“Christ, who pissed in your cereal this morning?!”

You sigh in exasperation at his outburst, grabbing your suitcase and shouldering your backpack while Steve locks the car. His hair is a travesty, sticking up every which way like he slept in a barn, he’s so put off by it he’s opted for a blue baseball cap today proclaiming, ‘If you ain’t a fisherman, you ain’t shit’ that he’d stolen from Hopper at some point.

“Eat my ass, dude!”

He stops short at that, causing you to collide with his back. You kick the back of his legs with your scuffed shoes, trying to jumpstart the whole walking thing. But no, Steve just stands there like a statue.

When he finally gets going again after a shake of his head, you swear he mumbles something under his breath. It sounds an awful lot like, “You’re killing me, woman.”

Whatever. He’s killing you— all stupidly attractive and mussed from an early morning wake-up call. 

Which, to be fair, was definitely unintentional on your part. Nancy could’ve done you a solid and warned you about the thin wall between your room and Steve’s. Quiet and discreet your ass, you’d be having words with Bellesa’s customer service later.

It was preventative, if anything, because you’re conscientious like that. Just a little something to take the edge off before spending the better part of a week alone with Steve. That baby pink sucker should’ve come with a warning, or maybe you’re just that wound up. 

Regardless, being less than mindful of your volume resulted in Steve barging into your bedroom right as you were about to come— hand grasping the vibe at just the right angle and shoved down the front of your shorts, shirt rucked up against your chest.

“What the fuck?!” you screech, orgasm slipping back from whence it came. You’re paralyzed in shock, startled by a rumpled, sleep-drunk, shirtless Steve in his boxer-briefs, which were doing fuck-all to help the situation at hand.

Speaking of which… You make a frantic grab for the covers to pull them up and over yourself, clicking the vibe off and stashing it under some pillows.

Meanwhile, he just stands there, steadily growing various shades of pink and breathing heavily. “I thought– You were—” he attempts, tongue-tied and dumbfounded. 

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks. His jaw drops open, useless, as he takes what he hopes will be a steadying breath in. But that’s of no use, because why would the universe ever cut him a break?

You sail beneath his nose, wafting from the movement of the sheets as you hastily cover yourself and that scent— that intoxicating sweetness he remembers pulling out of past lovers, sucking off his fingers, savoring in his throat— crashes into him with its entire, terrifying, exhilarating implication.

He’s utterly baffled. The kind of hard-hitting no shit moment you get when someone tells you the answer to a riddle you’ve been chewing on for hours, trying to decipher that missing component you just can’t get a grip on. And when the answer wakes up your brain, and your brain face-palms itself, you’re walloped with both relief and irritation.

In Steve’s case, he’s walloped with the scent of spearmint toothpaste and soap-clean skin only lightly musky. Saltiness lingering from an evaporated sheen of sweat, a dampness that dried over, previously wet from a specific type of touch.

Fuck.

He promptly turns on his heel with a muttered apology, body rigid and ramrod straight with tension, bathroom door latched before you can ask him where he’s going. He turns the water on for the shower and steps inside. Starts almost too fast, grip on his cock clumsy and impatient. Steve squeezes and pulls off, then he does it again, the drag of his fist making a delicious, sloppy sound—Do you wonder about him? Those nights you go on half-hearted dates and come back early, shrugging, “Felt weird to— There wasn’t much of a connection,” and plop back down, contented to be next to him. Is that something, too?

He should have fucked you a long time ago on the couch to the soundtrack of a forgotten movie. On the counter, interrupting breakfast, scrabbling for something to grip, knocking shit over, too fevered to care.

He’d do you right. Do you long and good and how you deserve.

“Steve—" you’d cry for him, “Can’t believe we haven’t done this before.”

“Yeah,” he’d say, “You’re so fucking warm, and hot, and my god, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t take it anymore. Gonna get up inside you, baby, gonna open you up, gonna ruin you for everyone else.”

And with that image, Steve comes so much it’s astonishing. He shudders uncontrollably, gasping out loud with the wind knocked out of him, and arches up toward the ceiling like he might levitate. And then, on the comedown, because being backed up for who knows how long wound him up for the kind of orgasm that decides to return for an encore, he comes again.

You get through security swiftly, the TSA agent from last time making conversation, checking your IDs and asking if you had another hilarious shirt on today.

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’ and jerking your thumb behind you to Steve, “It’s all him today.”

The agent nods and smiles, surveying Steve and his stupid hat quickly. Hands back your IDs and with a laugh, “Have a good trip!”

You save yourself from saying you too! but just barely. Brain still fried from your earlier interrupted activities, no thanks to the man following closely at your heels.

Steve doesn’t say a word until you’re seated on the plane. And even then, it’s less of a word and more of a clearing of his throat that prompts your attention.

“I’m, uh, sorry,” he says, refusing to meet your eyes, “For earlier today. I honestly thought you were like, having a nightmare or something.”

You fail to stifle your laugh. “Steve,” you chuckle, “If the women you’ve been seeing sound like they’re having nightmares when they come—”

“I wouldn’t know,” he interrupts, lips pulled tight. “Not really seeing anyone at the moment.”

You make a silent ‘oh,’ eyes blowing wide. What were you supposed to say to that?

He busies himself with his backpack, pulling out a book and some headphones. You do the same, placing a worn copy of The Devil’s Highway on your lap and settling headphones around your neck.

Something nudges at your calf. You turn from the flight attendant’s spiel to find a folded piece of paper held between two of Steve’s fingers. He flexes them toward you and you, bewildered, take it from him as he returns to his book.

Curious, you run a finger across its worn edges as it unfolds. A familiar scrawl greets you, ‘IOU one explanation.’

Your own. 

Shit, the devil’s really in the details, isn’t he?

Your vision shuffles like a deck of cards, mind racing back to Christmas morning as you quickly ripped off a scrap of paper from a receipt and wrote this on the back of it before stuffing it into Steve’s stocking.

Your tongue darts out the wet your chapped lips, firmly back in the present. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. You were supposed to be better prepared, thoughts in some logical order, feelings sorted (well, mostly) before Steve played this card.

You were supposed to know what the fuck you would do.

How you felt about him.

You’ve folded the paper back up and shoved it into your pocket without even realizing it. Dazed and confused while the captain makes an announcement, prompting the cabin for take-off.

Steve’s hand finds yours against the armrest, warm and familiar fingers tangling up with yours. Headphones secured on both of your ears, you take a deep breath as your stomach momentarily suspends itself while the plane takes off; inertia giving way to weightlessness. A squeeze of your hand before you lose yourself for a few hours, the playlist, courtesy of your best friend, sailing through your ears.

Best friends, ex-friends 'til the end / Better off as lovers and not the other way around.

Steve could kick himself for that stupid IOU, you’d been distant and quiet for most the day now. Barely said anything at all during the layover in Dallas, fucking hell. He’d left you to collect the bags while he dealt with the rental car. But he can’t drag his thoughts away from you, your eyes wide as you read the note, posture changing instantaneously. 

He interacts politely with the concierge but it’s clear his mind is somewhere else; he hopes he doesn’t come off as rude. When he makes his way back to you, wading through the crowds at the Palm Springs airport, you’ve gathered both suitcases and were sitting on top of one of them.

You’re on a phone call of some kind, turned away from him and hunched over like you’re trying to sink into yourself. His final present to you from Christmas on your right hand glinting in the light as your hold the phone to your ear. He hears a sniffle, quickly followed by a brief sigh.

“Yeah, thanks Nance,” you turn and spot him, offering a tight, watery smile. “Gotta go, Steve’s ready with the car.”

You listen as she says something, nodding along with her words.

“‘Kay,” you let out a shaky breath, “Love you too, bye.”

He bridges the distance between you, reaching for the suitcases before you can brush him away. You toe his backpack toward him, hefting your own over your shoulders with a grunt. Dodging a toddler and frazzled mom with a stroller, the pair of you make it outside, the sun a warm welcome against your faces.

You follow his lead to the rental car, a Ford of some kind, no convertible for the dirt roads and desert terrain of Joshua Tree.

The chirp of the car lets you know Steve’s unlocked it, you quickly compress the handle of your bag and shove it into the trunk. Backpacks are thrown into the backseat followed by a desperate plea from you for both “food,” and “the goddamn a/c.”

He grants both with a soft laugh. Maneuvers the Bronco Sport into Palm Springs with finesse, locating an In-N-Out in record time and rattles your order off from memory. You connect your phone to the bluetooth while you wait in the drive-thru line, mellow guitar chords ramp up and the melancholic sound of ‘drivin’ out into the sun / let the ultraviolet cover me up’ fill the car.

Steve steals your phone before you can change it to something less apocalyptic and depressing, so you’re left to listen to the rasping sounds of Phoebe Bridgers at the close of “I Know the End” while an In-N-Out employee hands you trays of food.

He thanks the teenager, and following the curve of the pavement and scores a parking spot just as a new song rips through the speakers. You hand him his order as he pushes the driver’s seat back to stretch his legs.

“Thanks,” he manages to say before shoving some fries into his mouth.

“Sure,” you reply, nearly unhinging your jaw to take a bite of the burger.

He laughs to himself, watching you. “S’like watching a pride of lions devour a warthog or something.”

You garble some smart-ass response, undoubtedly, before remembering your mouth is full. You roll your eyes and continue to enjoy your meal. Steve follows suit. 

After lunch, you suggest grabbing some groceries for the next few days. You wind through the aisles of Ralph’s, Steve following closely behind angling the cart to catch the incoming volleys of cereal boxes, power bars, and cartons of juice and milk. 

His heart clenches at the scene— it’s all very domestic, you ticking off your mental grocery list confident in the fact that Steve is just a step behind you— yes, dear; sure thing, sweetheart. You’re prattling on about some shit Wheeler pulled last week, a story you’ve already told him but he can’t bring himself to care, while you decided between Fruity Pebbles or Trix cereal.

Not when it seems like you’re just shaking off the gloom you wore earlier today. Eyes bright and animated, beaming smiles and pealing laughter; he can’t stop the smile that works its way across his face.

Back in the car before he knows it, groceries stowed in the back and cart returned to the corral. Taking his phone from the center console, you type in the AirBnB address and hand it back to him, fingers brushing against his just so. You say something about the property being at the edge of the park and a about an hour’s drive, give or take.

Steve just nods and starts the car. He follows the prompts of directions easily, and pretty soon Palm Springs is in the rearview. The road gives way to rolling hills and climbs with short descents as he drives closer to Joshua Tree. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices there isn’t the usual book in your hand.

He calls your name, “You alright?”

You nod, exhaustion evident in your gaze. “Mmhm, jus’ sleepy. Closing my eyes so I don’t get nauseous from the peaks and valleys.”

That’s right, you get carsick if you read on hilly or mountainous stretches of road. Though it’s not much, Palm Springs to Joshua Tree, he guesses the frequent hills and dips of the drive would be enough to do it. He turns the music down slightly, letting you doze.

It’s been a minute since he’s been alone with his thoughts. What with Nance moving out and you moving in, his mind has been elsewhere. It was a relief to finally be on spring break because it freed up some time for himself. 

Not that he used that time wisely, exactly.

He’d talked to Robin, briefly and abstractly, of course. But she was wise to his plight at this point, evasive tactics aside. She cautioned him, once again, to take it slow since you were liable to spook. She was probably right about that.

But then again, maybe not.

Chancing a glance to his right, he catches you and finds himself having a moment. How your face looked all soft and sweet—head lolled back against the seat and precariously resting against the window, how quiet you were, the strange peace settling between the two of you since lunch.

For a second Steve’s also not quite sure how he’s feeling– still gathering his bearings from the aftermath of new tenderness– but he’s so, so lucky that you’re exactly the kind of dummy he’s always known you were. Laughter bubbles from his throat when you snort yourself awake and blink blearily at your surroundings.

“We’re here,” he says softly, one hand resting against the steering wheel while the other pockets his phone.

You’re slow to the draw, having slept for the better of part of an hour, unclipping your seatbelt clumsily and fumbling for the door handle. And it’s all he can do not to kiss you stupid right then and there.

With a sigh and shake of his head, he exits the car and opens your door for you. A murmured ‘thanks’ as you hop down to the desert floor and read the host’s instructions for check-in. Your ancient chucks kick up dust as you walk to the front door and key in the code. 

Steve grabs the bags, leaving the groceries for later. He turns, spying a hot tub nestled among desert plants and grasses. The mountains behind the modern house provide a stark contrast to its sleek planes and lines. He almost feels bad for tracking in dust and dirt when he steps inside. 

The house itself is sleek, a paragon of modern design. Lots of windows to let in light, particularly in the living spaces. Primary colors and minimal art set the various rooms apart in the open concept space, he notes a red couch and yellow dining chairs, following the sound of your footsteps.

“It’s a two bedroom,” you call out from somewhere out of sight.

He’s both pleased and frustrated at that particular detail. Maybe that’s your way of introducing some distance between the two of you? He’d rather not think about it.

“They’re both nice,” you say, appearing out of thin air and leaning against a wall to his left. “We can flip for ‘em, I guess.”

Steve checks his pocket for loose change and prizes a quarter between his thumb and forefinger. “So heads is…?”

“The green room.”

“And tails?”

“The orange one.”

“Right,” he nods, “So on three, you call it.”

He counts it down and you call tails as the coin flips between you. He catches it on his palm, opening it for you to check.

“Tails it is—I’ll take the orange room, you get green.”

So, it’s settled. You take your suitcase and backpack with a smile before padding back to the second bedroom. Steve passes a pop art version of a Simpsons character displayed on the wall as he makes his way to his room. It’s not too far from yours with a sliding glass door to and view to the surrounding property. 

He leaves his bags by the door and beelines for the bed. His back hits the mattress and he’s out like a light.

The clanging of pots and pans wakes him. The faint footfalls of bare feet against the concrete floor as your prattle around the kitchen. He scrubs a hand down his face with a sigh.

He’s still exhausted from earlier, so he settles on drifting back to sleep, maybe waking you up in the morning with a big mug of coffee for that inevitable travel-hangover you’ll have.

Steve yawns and grins when he hears your hip bump the counter, a hushed curse (“god damned asslamp, what the fuck”), your feet padding away, and the kitchen faucet turns on with a rush. You’re such a considerate dope.

Another yawn. He’s asleep again.

_

It’s the soft knocking on his door that rouses him this time.

He pries his eyes open, instant regret flooding his veins because he slept in his contacts again. 

“Uhgimmeaminute,” he slurs out, hand frantically groping for his phone to check the time. Which is useless since it’s dead anyway.

Your voice sounds out from behind the door, “Steve, you awake?” A pause. “Dinner’s ready, if you want any.”

He’s managed to turn over onto his stomach, elbows sinking into the mattress, hands cradling his head as he struggles to wake the fuck up. 

“Yeah,” he rasps out, “Be there soon.” 

Music echoes from the kitchen, something soothing and low-energy. You’ve set the table and lit a few taper candles you’d managed to find. He pours himself a glass of wine and takes a seat, watching while you sway and sing to yourself. 

You sing along with the music, accompanying Paul Simon as he talks about being being lovers and marrying fortunes together. Steve sighs.

He may be biased of course, but he’s always adored your singing— you’re no vocalist, not really, but that doesn’t stop you. You’ll warble out any tune that strikes your fancy with gusto. Eddie and his attempts to rope you into any sort of musical education had gone amiss— you like what you like, and you’ll sing what you like.

He could listen to you all day, if you’d let him.

He clears his throat and you nearly flip the skillet in front of you, wine glass ringing from the tapping of your jewelry against it. “Christ! You scared the shit outta me, dude!”

Steve cocks his head to the side, also listening—to the music, perhaps to your now uncomfortably loud heartbeat. You run your hand through your hair. The music chimes into a similar calming tone as the chorus starts.

You set a plate down in front of him and slide into a chair to his left. He looks at you, questioning, “Not hungry?”

“Oh, me? I think I’ll just chew on these grapes for a bit.” 

You take a sip of wine and make a show of working your jaw, as if you are, in fact, chewing the grapes from the Malbec. He huffs a laugh at your antics, tucking into his own dinner. With a wink, you swallow and say, “I ate during your nap, so I’m good.”

He’s not sure exactly what you’ve whipped up, but it’s damned good. “Right,” he says, hand covering his chewing mouth, “Sorry about that.”

“S’fine,” you assure him with a wave, “No worries.”

The lights are dimmed. The guitar melody crescendos before the song ends. There’s a pause of silence before the next song begins, and you feel your heart leap as the first few words start.

“Um…” Your voice cracks. “So, about that explanation.”

His eyebrows raise briefly before he blinks a couple of times. You tilt your chin to your chest and lace your fingers together, foot tapping anxiously as you sit in wait. “I mean, I think I’m just a little unprepared. Like, obviously, we kissed in December and then we both just let it go. And I’m supposed to have it worked out by now—but recently there’s been … tension.” You pause for a drink, “I guess it’s only natural for you to want to know— I just got freaked out when I realized how you felt. Not only because I’m literally the last person to figure it out… It’s just—”

You’re full of rambling, nervous energy but you try your best to play it off. It was such an awkward thing to say out loud, and there was no way you could come out and spit: I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for while now.

Steve laughs and leans forward, putting his hand over yours. “I just… didn’t want to mess anything up.” He says, eyes earnest and fixed on yours, “At least, I hope I didn’t.” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat, “I mean, I lo—,” He stops, covering with a brief cough, “I, uh, care about you, a lot.” 

A heavy silence falls between you as the next track begins, allowing you to wallow in your own cowardice. Your inability to say exactly what he nearly admitted to a moment ago.

Love.

Is that what the pressure in your chest is? The nerves fluttering in your stomach anytime you catch sight of him or your phone dings with a notification? A reason for the ever-present smile on your face as you gossip with him in the hall before the bell rings? An answer for your burgeoning insomnia because you can’t sleep well unless you’re by his side?

Cause if so… god is it fucking torture. 

Since kissing Steve Harrington in the living room on that Sunday evening last December, you’ve replayed that kiss over and over again, time after time as you fall asleep. It’s been approximately two months and some change, numerous lunches and dinners, with one long walk in the park with your family dog before he got a frantic call from Robin and had to leave for “bake sale disaster clean up.” You don’t want to precisely calculate how much time has passed. What you do know is that all these moments add up to you lying in bed thinking about it while trying desperately not to scream.

Tack on to that Steve quite literally catching you this morning with your hand down your shorts, seconds from release while you were most definitely thinking of him.

Jesus H. Christ.

You linger at the table, twirling your empty wine glass between two fingers as you think. Steve clears his plate, gets himself a glass of water, and you return to the kitchen to join him. He’s patting his thighs with his wet hands when you come in, nodding along to the music.

You gaze at the damp spots on his legs, the fabric of his trousers slightly clinging onto his thighs. Quickly, before he sees you, you look away.

“The National?” He asks amusedly, “I really like them… he’s got a great voice.” It’s different from the song you’d included on the vinyl you’d given him over Christmas, but apparently he knew enough of their catalogue to recognize them by sound alone.

Color you surprised.

But I'm gonna keep you in love with me for a while / I'm gonna keep you in love with me.

Steve walks closer to you, stopping a few steps away and leans against the edge of the island. He crosses his arms and press his lips together, eyelashes fluttering as he smiles.

“What now?” He asks. His voice echoes the same low and deliberate tone you’ve heard before, and you think that the question isn’t really a question at all. But you’re not really sure what to make of it—tonight may have been the most forward he’s ever been.

“Was that, uh, an adequate explanation for you?”

“What you mean?”

Standing on your tiptoes, you move to face him. “What I mean is,” you begin, “In your expert opinion, did my rambling monologue over there satisfy the IOU?”

You pause and wait for his answer.

Darkness flutters over his eyes briefly before he catches your mouth with his instead. With a half-whimper, half-moan, Steve Harrington cups the back of your neck in one large, warm hand and your lower back with the other and presses your body flush against his.

Oh.

A brief parting of your lips gives you a moment to catch your breath, but he’s back again, tongue sliding against yours sweetly, as if asking a silent question.

Is this okay?

With a sigh of pleasure, you ask him to continue in the same, secret language. Your chest is burning hot, tummy quivering with nerves and delight as his hands roam your body. Firm. Strong. Almost desperate. Your own hands rest against his chest before one reaches up and cups his face, “D-does that answer your question?” He mutters against your mouth before he slides down past your jaw and lands his lips on your neck, “We could—”

Until suddenly Robin’s advice rears its ugly head. 

Steve had been warned about not getting involved, repeatedly. Plenty of concern from Robin about getting “poorly wired idiot signals” crossed. It’s dangerous with a friend, even more so with you because he can’t lose you.

Point blank refuses to, in fact.

He abruptly pauses and pulls away, like he thought better of it. His hands place you back down on your feet– back to Earth– as he swallows hard, looking at you with open, red lips. Steve rolls the bottom one between his teeth and clenches his jaw, eyes half-lidded and lustful. You’re probably a wreck, too, you think as you catch yourself against the counter.

In the absence of his mouth and yours and his warm hands skating across your body, you’re terrified.

And from the look on Steve’s face, you’d wager he is as well.

Suddenly you’re looking at him one way, and then in a flash, the same grin you always give him— the crooked one on the cusp of a dumb joke— turns bright white.

It goes brilliant like solar flare, and he thinks he must be losing his mind.

He hazards a glimpse to you.

Maybe Steve’s been losing it for a few weeks now, but he’s done a great job dodging the reality of your confession so far. Doesn’t matter what you mumbled—cracked out on exhaustion and sleep-talking—because in the end, you’re his friend and you love him the same way you love everyone else: annoyingly. Nothing’s changed about that.

It was just a kiss.

He says your name carefully and you perk up at the sound of his voice. He clears his throat, “We should probably call it a night.”

A feeble sigh as Steve pushes his hands into his face, gripping his hair, pulling his own head back until he’s staring at the ceiling, willing this excruciating moment to pass him by.

“Y-yeah, okay,” you whisper.

When he finally looks back down, you’ve left without a sound.

“Mmm…”

He wakes up for a third time, not that he had been sleeping soundly by any means.

It’s barely audible at first, especially if he was still oblivious, but now it’s like his ears can comprehend a new language, like all his senses have been heightened.

Or maybe it’s just because you didn’t close your door entirely tonight. Steve can’t blame you, he did, after all, interrupt you this morning.

He can’t recall if voyeurism was ever his kink, but just this once, maybe it can be. His curiosity takes hold, lights up upon hearing a stifled groan of a syllable that sounds surprisingly like his name. If he focuses, he can dampen the nighttime outside his window, smother out the air conditioning and—

“Steve… that’s… oh, it feels so good…”

His cock springs to life.

There’s a rhythm of folded knees, thighs squeezed together in pulses, fingers reaching between them, and the hot, pleading breaths you puff into the clamped grasp of your hand. Even your heart, wildly banging around in your chest. He takes note of the tempo and dives beneath the waistband of his shorts, keeping pace.

“There, faster… don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He thinks, I won’t, and finds it a little perfect how this entire thing seems to be mutual, after all.

_

He wakes for the last time, in the late morning, and rolls out of bed to brush his teeth and shower. He definitely smells like sex, and when he opens the door to the bathroom, you’re already at the counter, also smelling like sex. Steve slyly looks down and adjusts himself, tilting his groin away and out of view.

“Mornin’” You rub at your temple, squinty and tired. “Think you were in my dream last night,” you say absently, blinking out the sleep, ungracefully squeezing toothpaste onto your toothbrush where it falls off in a goopy pile. You scrub in gentle circles, leaning over to spit and rinse, and come back up wet and bleary. As Steve washes his face, you tug his towel from the rack.

He pats off his cheeks, brushes his own teeth with one hand next, the other reaching sideways to swipe a rolling bead of water off your neck, purposefully running his thumb up your throat.

Low and encouraging, he asks, “Yeah? Was it a good dream?”

You blink in quick flutters at that, surprised and abruptly reliving a fuzzy memory, a prickle of dew casting itself over your brow.

“Y-yes,” you stutter, sudden heat rippling off your body, that lovely perfume of incoming arousal rising to meet him. When you stumble back, flustered, he holds you still, sets you on your shaky feet.

Steve licks his lips, thinks about how maybe this won’t be a thing he’ll simply get over, how he is quite glad to have you, and maybe he can have more of you, too.

He thinks about how easily a mutual fantasy can come true and murmurs, “That’s good, honey. That’s real good.”

An exasperated huff as Steve sticks his arm out in front of your collar. You look at him in irritation, ready to swat it away until your feet trip over a loose rock and he catches you by the shoulder. 

“Watch it,” he says calmly, setting you on your feet, “If you stop looking down at your feet, you might see something you like.”

Target acquired: you got a juicy ass, Harrington.

Smartly, you shut up, letting him walk ahead in case any more errant rocks might make you eat your words again.

The trail to Skull Rock is popular, full of hikers and brush branches as you’ve repeatedly discovered by taking twigs to the face. Keeping close to Steve, you let him shoulder most of the burden, only putting your hand up when a branch he snaps off with his hand flies too close to your eyes.

“IF—” You start loudly, and Steve bristles at your volume, “If you could pick one person from history who you’d take out to dinner, if circumstances made it possible,” you pause to take a breather, letting a family pass by on their way down the trail. “Who would it be?”

“I wouldn’t.” Steve retorts, “And you’re being annoying.”

“I’m not!” You insist, hands on your hips and eyes narrowed at him from behind your sunglasses. “You’re just being boring and refusing to play DC.”

“What’s that— the stupid thing the kids were whispering about recently? Dead crush?”

You respond with a maniacal giggle. “Mine’s Rasputin, he’s Russia’s greatest love machine!” 

Steve groans. Shoulders his bag with a disappointed sigh, exasperated that you tricked him into this stupid game, “Fucking– you’ve got to be kidding. That’s disgusting.”

With a flick of your wrist, you condescendingly scoff. “Glass houses Steve,” you tease. “Besides, you’d probably pick someone like Princess Di because you’re predictable.”

“Rasputin’s a bit dark, isn’t he?” Steve shakes his head, forging ahead on the trail.

Sticking your tongue out at the back of his head, you fix your gaze forward with a sly smirk.

“Who would you pick, Mr. H.? Let’s get a peek into that big brain of yours.” You lick your lips as he looks back over his shoulder.

Steve mulls the question over for a second, “Margaret Thatcher. I’d take her to dinner. And then to an early grave.”

There’s an exasperated sound that escapes your lips. “Okay, that’s not really how the game works. This is not supposed to be a political commentary- it’s a genuine display of … attraction!”

“To corpses.” He mutters.

“Okay, that’s dark.” You exhale with a brief chuckle.

You’re stunned into silence thereafter, and it’s a wonder, since Steve’s never known you to be silent for anything. A life-time of no-filter commentary that makes him physically ill at times, and you’re shocked quiet.

The fallout of last night lingered awkwardly, coloring the lazy morning and early afternoon. He didn’t even have the courage to look at you—only forging on with the day, dewy with sweat. Briny with exertion. Sweet and tangy and whipping through the air, chased by dry wind. 

Steve’s back in the driver’s seat, you’re riding shotgun. Shades perched on your nose bridge, ruddied pout glorious against the sunset backdrop.

“You alright?”

A bead rolls down your brow, gets lost in the damp hair coiled by your ear. Steve reaches over, brushing your arm and you pull back, letting him dig in the backseat. He loops a finger through a hydroflask and hands it over. “Here.”

A small smile as you take it from his slack grip. 

The cool water slides right down your throat and soothes the fever in your throat. A clatter of the visor’s mirror slides open and you look at your reflection before pushing your glasses up again.

Steve has already returned to his side, staring out the gaping window, hair rushing over his beautiful face.

You tapped on his hand, water bottle clinking against it fell to the floor at your feet. The evening is cooling, chasing away the day’s heat. A filmy layer of sweat begins to condense on your brow despite the open windows and a/c on full blast.

And it’s just his way, isn’t it? To smile and wait, look so peaceful while your heart howls for him. To say I love you without ever having to say it at all.

Shyly, with his hand inching toward yours, eyes glowing the slightest bit gold as night falls, he whispers, “Better?”

A brief nod, you settle back against the passenger seat suddenly exhausted. 

“Stay awake for me, we’ll be home soon.” Steve pleads, linking fingers through yours in the growing darkness. The car rumbling back to life. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

His quiet way, his patient way, his careful way. Loving you without loving you. Telling you without telling you. Secret languages finally understood.

A kiss pressed to the top of your head and you don’t know if you should laugh or cry when he moves his hand to your thigh, fingers tangled up in yours. All you can do is duck your head and grin.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #teacher!steve #reader instert #the kids aren't alright - rosewaterandivy

[undertalehuman]

an example of using a curse for your benefit (backpack hero)

so the evil hand pulls in the closest item in the direction it’s pointing. and destroys it when it’s close enough, and adds rage when it does so. but if you pair that with the lootbox, it makes an excellent combo where each turn it will destroy the item, create an item of the same size which you can then place in the position of the previous destroyed item, and repeat. the only thing that could break this is an item being destroyed outside of combat. that disables the lootbox, so when you enter battle the evil hand will destroy the item and you’ll have to replace it manually. the coral is a little bonus to this combo because it helps me get free fuel for the evil hand when i need it. also, sometimes i get an item i like from this combo. in which case i will reorganize to get the item out of the destruction zone and put some of that free fuel i mentioned from the coral into the destruction zone. now this setup can be altered to get rid of the downside of the out of combat thing, such as putting a row chain star or a copy star in that spot to the left of the destruction zone. as these are both common, they’re also duplicatable via coral. so you can have one in a different part of your backpack ready to duplicate if you ever have to use the one next to the destruction zone. also sometimes you can get a shiv and just get an extra hit in, or sometimes you can get a drink, so you can drink out of it and then the cup will be left in the destruction zone.

all in all, it’s a self-sustaining combo that mostly gets you rage but can occasionally find pretty good items that you can reorganize to yoink into your main backpack area.

sometimes i write too much lol

#backpack hero #backpack hero build #backpack hero curses #backpack hero combo

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: Dastigaan, The Maddest Mage of our Age

There’s a secret they won’t tell you about descending into the pit of madness. It’s that once you realize there’s no bottom your fall begins to feel a lot like flying.

It’s a well known fact that casters frequently meddle with powers beyond their understanding, at risk of not only inflicting trauma to their surroundings and their own mind, but onto reality itself.  Dastigaan was the sort of mage folk all to reductively refer to as “mad”, the sort that confused the trauma he caused with an indicator of his growing power, and sought to cause more as a means of pushing his limits.   He dealt with dark powers and lost himself in the forbidden reaches of the multiverse, returning home as a catacylsmic storm of arcane power that just so happened to still wear a mortal’s skin. Before he could unleash his terrible power he was caught and imprisoned by the great mages of the realm, an imprisonment that’s lasted for decades and will very soon come to an end, possibly with the party’s unwitting aid.

Adventure Hooks:

Dastigaan’s escape begins in the most innocuous way: The heroes come into conflict with a belligerent magic shop owner, who over promises on the capabilities or reliability of particular items and then throws the party out (using telekinisis) when they come back to complain. As they’re picking themselves up off the ground, a helpful tiefling by the tame of Tristham approaches to help dust them off and offer commiserations. the shopowner was an old business rival of his who elbowed him out of the magic trade and has been running roughshod over all the other enchantment vendors in town.  Mutual cursing of the shopowners’s name turns into an offer of drinks, which turns into a completely innocent discussion of just how one might get into the shop and swipe a few choice items along with the owner’s collection of crafting diagrams. After the party returns victorious and after the heat dies down, Tristham will mention that he just so happens to have another job in the works, and that the party have just so happened to prove themselves more than qualified for an interview.

The architect of the big heist is one Ildra of Volennwal, a retired military officer and decorated war mage in her 60s who became dissolusioned with the kingdom’s goverannce after sustaining heavy personal injury including the loss of one of her arms to secure a victory that the diplomats traded away for trade concessions before she had even recovered. IIdra apparently has a plan to break a vault full of treasure held in reserve by the crown in the case of wartime, but is skeptical of the parties abilities to help pull it off despite her quartermaster Tristham’s appraisal. If the party want in, they’ll have to prove they can handle some danger... say by raiding a particularly notorious dungeon and bringing back a relic that will be useful in the caper

Drawn in by the promise of good pay and rich rewards by heisting an arcane vault, the party are half way into the execution of their plan when they discver that what they’re ACTUALLY doing is helping to break one of the most dangerous casters alive out of wizard jail. Do they abandon their plan an attempt to escape? Turn themselves over to the authorities? Go through with it and embrace their future as troubleshooters for a would be tyrant? They better make their decision soon, Ildra brought a small army of her old mercenaries buddies as a plan B of brute-forcing the jailbreak, and they won’t be too happy seeing their point-team turn tail and run.

Background: Far from the gibbering, nonsensical caricature that one could assume of most “mad” mages, Dastigaan is calm, cool, and in many ways perfectly reasonable.  Backpacking through nightmare dimensions let him shrug off the destructive impulses of his youth and come to terms with what it really means to be a master of the arcane. The problem is where this reason will take him, as in order to avoid further pain, imprisonment, and attempts on his life, Dastigaan decided a few decades ago that each and every mage that acted against him or aided in his imprisonment must be made an example of. In order for these examples to be effective, they must be so direct and horrifying that they scar themselves onto history, a personal apocalypse delivered to each of the realm’s greatest casters to ensure the world learns from their mistake in opposing him.

This was exactly Ildra’s intent, having studied at the knee of one of those powerful mages and realizing far too late how his loyalty to the realm and distance and lofty position made him out of touch with the sacrifices of common people his grand stratagems necessitated.  Knowing that she could never hold him, or the crown he served to account, Ildra remembered  one of the old wizard’s forwarnings about the Maddest Mage of the Age and knew she had a weapon.

Further Adventures:

If your party don’t pick up on the original magic shop plot-tread (bastards) consider having them join up with the mercenary company that Ildra employs, or come into service of one of the mages Dastigaan is going to eventually target just before he escapes on his own.

The escape of the Maddest mage of the Age is going to make the great wizards and sorcerers of the realm shit their collective robes, having them stockpile arcane weapons, vanish completely as they flee to other planes, or drop all their responsibilities and disguise themselves as commoners while they wait for this all to blow over. While the panic and the chaos it brings begins to trickle down to the commons, the party end up adopting a skittish grey cat who seems intent on following them about for protection. This cat is infact Ildra’s mentor, having polymorphed himself into an easily overlooked form with a collar of nondetection.

While he possesses innumerable forbidden magics learned in his time beyond the stars, Dastigaan’s chosen method of avenging himself against his captors is to open the door to his good friend the outergod of paradox and let the lovecraftian horror horror go to work. Each of these violations results in the creation of a grisly monument, proportional in size and horror to how culpable Dastigaan believed that victim was in his imprisonment. Some are merely fist sized idols of clay and still living meat, others are grotesque instillation that eat up the lives and bodies of an entire city block. 

#villain #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #horror #heist #theif #shopkeep #low level #mid level #Merchant #mercenaries #jail break #wizard #warlock #sorcerer #warfare

[bucknastysbabe]

God of what? - L. Tucker

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Very bantery and wordy, pnv!sex, Baby daddy!Lance, chubby Lance, we love dad bods, both are self absorbed as hell, Maggie is still an Angel, teasing, switching, humiliation, creampie, afab!reader

Taglist: @borikenlove @lovelykhaleesiii ;)

Lance Tucker. Gold medalist. Major dickface. Baby daddy. You were one of the team coordinators for USA gymnastics and had to check in on his gym and girls. Which you had no clue how the bastard wasn’t banned for knocking up the Townsend girl but she said it was consensual and they were very much in love.

But Lance did get knocked down a peg. His gym was relocated to Northern California. What you would call Sasquatch weed farm land. An educated guess would be this is where the prick was from. He never married Maggie Townsend but they ‘co-parented’ from what you could see on social media. You wished you were sent to Hope Ann’s gym, atleast she was entertaining.

You got out of the uber and glanced at the gym. It looked nice, very eco-friendly in appearance. Of course his name was plastered in big ass letters on the sign. You remembered him at the Olympics, but he was on his way out and you were sixteen. You won gold on bars and floor that year. Then gold on bars and floor the next Olympics. He wouldn’t back you into a damn corner.

You entered through the doors, silently dipping to the side, hoping to not garner any attention. You leaned against a half-wall and surveyed the scene. Maggie was working with girls on the vault, smiley and vapid as usual. Lance hollered at two older gymnasts on floor exercises. You raised a brow at the state of the former team coordinator.

The motherfucker had on his usual tracksuit, but equipped with a baby backpack, the child just shaking around with Lance’s annoyed arm movements. You snickered quietly, holding a hand over your mouth. Parenting had taken its toll on the former Olympian, Tucker was definitely sporting a ‘dad bod’. His thick waist and what you guessed was a belly had that zip-up straining. Still clean shaven but you could spot the pouch under his chin, the softening of a jawline.

Hm. How the mighty have fallen. You couldn’t say he didn’t look cute with the baby daddy fluff but once he opened his mouth all attraction flew to Antarctica. Blue eyes flickered over your way, once, twice, and his mouth clamped shut.

You could hear him from afar, “Go get some water and your heads outta your ass, coordinator’s here.”

He stalked over, baby bouncing and laughing eagerly. You eyed the team USA patch and the embroidery on the backpack. Future Olympian - Tucker Jr. Did his arrogance know no bounds? Apparently not. Lance approached and asked, “Why did they send you here? My two girls are fine.”

You shrugged, “Had to make sure you weren’t impregnating more up and comers, Tuck. Just a routine check, loosen up that tracksuit huh?”

His full cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment. Lance grumbled, “Yeah fuck you, come and watch then.” Maggie had bounded over, gushing over you adorably. Poor thing had no brain cells but was cute as a button. She cooed, “Oh my god! I can’t believe it’s you! You were my hero growing up, I modeled my first floor routine after you!”

You grinned and gave her a hug, warmly replying, “Thank you, that’s an honor I could inspire you.”

She looked at Lance and pointed toward you, “Can you believe it? It’s like one of the best USA gymnasts ever!” He frowned deeply. “Yes Margaret. I won my gold when she was still in juniors.” Maggie babbled on, “But she has four golds.” Lance gritted his jaw, you watching his eye twitch from even multiple feet away.

“Yep. Great. Please go back to the girls.”

Maggie waved at you again with a bright smile, Lance face palming dramatically. You eyed his reddened face with a smirk. The brunette cursed, “She’s a fucking idiot.” You asked, “What’s that make you Lance? Don’t fuck stupid then.” He waved you off with a snarl, gathering his protégés up to run through their routines.

You watched with crossed arms as they warmed up. Lance had unbuckled his baby and handed the pack over to Maggie with a kiss to the child’s head. That was cute. No. You eyed him stride back over, still holding that confident swagger. He grinned at you and said, “My girls will definitely be qualifying.” You shrugged and replied, “We’ll see, yeah?”

“You’re a bitch.”

“I know. Suck in.”

Lance blushed and straightened up, embarrassed and now curling in under his arms. He scrabbled for his phone to press play for the first girl’s floor routine. She was good, you watching silently. Quietly you said, “Needs to make sure she’s not landing with her head forward like that.”

“JOHNSON, KEEP YOUR BODY TUCKED IN!”

“Yes sir!,” she yelped while doing a split.

This would be a long day.

Later on while watching bars you noted Tucker being uncharacteristically quiet. Towards you of course. He was barking at the gymnasts every other swing. You offered, “How’s the dad life going for you?” Affronted blue eyes jerked towards you. His jaw clicked open and shut. Lance replied smoothly, “Good. It’s not hard once you get routines down.”

“You changing diapers?,” you snickered.

He made a disgusted face and replied, “Maggie does that. I can do everything else just fine. Waiting for him to start walking so we can start training.” You raised a brow, holding back a guffaw. He snapped, “What? He’s got good gymnast blood!” You held your hands up and apologized, “Yeah, yeah, gotta keep the Tucker name alive.”

The conversation ended. He gave some more advice to the two girls. You hummed, “Want to get dinner after this?” Lance straightened up, eyeing you suspiciously, “Sure. I’ll drive, Coach.” You poked him in his fluffy side, “I bet you’re hungry huh?”

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, soft spot I see.”

Lance gritted his jaw, holding back another tirade. His temper was still hot but not blazing like it used to be. You cooed, enjoying the poking of ‘papa bear’, “No need to be so tetchy Tucker, you look good rocking the dad bod! Probably hard to stay in shape with Junior!”

His hands flew up as your fellow coach snarked, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up! Tucker got fucking fat, ha ha! Go eat a cock.” Lance’s eyes rolled aggressively as he walked over to the girls for the final talk of the day. You waited by the door as they closed up the gym, checking your phone.

Lance strode past you and called, “Let’s go.”

You rolled your eyes. “Such a gentleman!”

Following the surly coach to his Beamer you almost broke out into laughter again. You couldn’t take him very seriously, not a bit, it was endearing. Climbing into the passenger side you looked back at the car seat and smiled. Lance muttered, “I’m on a diet, y’know.”

You replied, “I’m just fucking with you, calm down Tuck.”

He backed the car up while grumbling, “The amount of pussy I get is down to zero now. Shit fucking blows.”

You raised a brow, kicking your legs up on the dash, earning a sharp glare. Looking out the window you stated, “Hate to be the bitch again but you don’t have the best reputation, especially now buddy.”

“Not your fuckin’ buddy,” he pouted, “Maggie goes on dates all the damn time.”

“Maggie’s not an asshole.”

You really wanted Tucker to blow his top. See that famous temper in action. Out of curiosity of course, not some desire to tame him. Yes. Totally.

But he gritted his jaw and jerked down a road to a little downtown area and parking in front of a row of shops and restaurants. He sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt, glaring at his tummy like it might disappear. You did the same, inquiring, “Where are we eating? Since you’re on a diet and all.” Lance snapped, “Vegan joint.”

You smirked and patted his cheek, “How healthy.”

Lance gave you a snarky grin, anger radiating off his entire being. Good. You poked him in the side again for good measure, hopping out the BMW before receiving an earful of angry dad. The elder gymnast cornered you quicker than you could step on the sidewalk, big arms crossed. He jerked his jaw. “What’s your fucking deal? I barely know you. We trained together once.”

Now it was your turn to be bashful. You didn’t really know why you were fucking with him. Originally it was out of spite but now? You weren’t sure. He jeered, “I’m waiting? Not so mouthy now huh?” Mouth agape you stood in front of his bigger frame, stuck. You pushed past him and entered the restaurant, the other laughing haughtily.

Several drinks later.

Lance offered to walk you back to your hotel down the street, considering dinner went okay. There was that stagnant energy looming over you both. But you distracted the idiot by letting him brag the entire dinner. He needed it anyways, you’d been riding his ass all day. Guys like him needed their little ego boost.

He walked beside you inside the lobby, not stopping even as you pressed the elevator button. You stared blatantly. “You think you’re getting lucky or something?” Lance closed into your space again, hand on the wall as he grinned, minty breath hitting your face. He crooned, “Obviously. I got you figured out now.”

Ding. The elevator doors opened. He followed you in. You pushed him roughly against the wall, hand blindly pressing the button to your floor. You growled, “Shut the fuck up,” and kissed him. Big hands groped your ass while you fought against Lance’s mouth— teeth and tongue intertwined. His nose brushed against yours, you pressed into his soft body harder. The pair of you looked like some horny damn teens.

Ding.

He lifted you up easily, you wrapping your legs around his hips. Lance hotly murmured against your lips, “So you had the hots for me? That’s what’s got your panties in a twist, huh?” You slapped him across the cheek lightly, swearing, “I wanted to fuck you when you won pommel horse gold that first time you stupid prick.” His eyes rolled back, a grin splitting across pink lips.

You kissed Lance again, both hands cradled in his soft hair. He pulled away groaning, “Where- the room- fuck!” More smacking of lips filled the hallway. You panted, “Last- oh Goddammit- one on the right.” In an awkward flurry of limbs Tucker had managed to grapple your keycard and open the door.

He nipped at your swelling upper lip, laughing, “You were a fucking twig then, I mean Hope Ann had more ass.” You narrowed your eyes at him, hopping down and shoving Lance across your bed. He propped up on an elbow with a smirk. Climbing onto thick thighs you replied, “You were skinnier then too— if I remember correctly.” Grabbing a handful of his soft belly emphasized the point.

Watching his brows furrow and lips pout up was priceless. Lance retorted petulantly, “Bring it up again and I’m gonna start thinking you like it.” You shrugged and started pulling at his tight red pullover, the brunette grunting at the sudden stretch. “Easy!,” Lance yelped. The undershirt didn’t last long either, you were goddamn going nuts.

He pawed at your jacket, unzipping the white fabric, shrugging you out of it. He sucked in a breath when you unhooked your bra in a swift motion, hands groping your tits, mouth finding it’s way between. Yanking his hair you hissed, “That’s it, use your mouth for something other than talking about yourself, fuck, Tucker.”

He lapped around a nipple, moaning softly. You rutted down into his lap, grinding against his cock with an aborted mewl. You got plenty of dick. So how you were rolling around with Lance Tucker, gone to seed God of Gymnastics, was purely lust motivated. He lazily moved to your other tit, suddenly going too slow for your liking.

“Hurry your fat ass up- hah- what is this? Soft core hour?”

He nipped rudely, causing you to squeak and yank dark hair again. Lance pulled off your tit, lips obscenely swollen. His pupils were blown wide, eyes lidded seductively. He cocked his head and hummed, “Someone’s needy.”

“Fuck you!”

“Trying to, spitfire.” Good one. Your old nickname.

You hobbled off of his thighs to yank down your leggings and underwear, glaring. Lance copied your actions, albeit he struggled a bit more. You zeroed in on his pretty cock but then the tattoo registered. Lance’s smug face fell when you started laughing. He yanked the lamp off.

You giggled, pawing at him in the dark. “Oh my god, you can’t be serious right now, turn the damn lamp back on!” He protested, “No! It doesn’t look right in this state!” You fell against his soft chest, guffawing now, “Oh my god you aren’t even embarrassed about the tattoo itself?”

You flicked the lamp back on with a sharp grin, the light illuminating his unimpressed face. Nipping at his soft chin you ran hands down soft flesh, wrapping around Lance’s heated cock. He gasped softly, arching ever so into you. Cooing gently against hard and fast strokes, “I’m just playing with you again Tuck. S’that feel good?”

He exhaled out a shaky moan, eyes fluttering shut. You kissed downwards, making a wet line to that beautiful cock of his, heavy and curved. Lance babbled when you wrapped your lips around the thick tip, “Oh fucking Christ- you’re a little freak you know that? Hopping your way around the coaches this year? ” You squeezed his balls in warning, Lance moaning again with a grin.

You bobbed your head a couple of times, drooling heavily on the flushed member. Pulling off you rasped, “No, just the ones who are stupid, self-absorbed, and named Lance.” His inevitable retort turned into a whine when you flicked your tongue across his weeping slit. One of his hands fisted into your hair, pulling you forcefully up and off his cock with a lewd noise.

Lance rumbled, “Enough of this shit.” You moaned in surprise feeling him manhandle you under his bulk, trapped efficiently. The brunette was settled between your thighs, cock readied at your entrance. He purred into your ear, “Pussy’s just wet for me then? Fuckin’ hell spitfire.”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon and fuck me, you’re right Lance, no more shit!”

“I’m always fucking right,” he grunted while sliding into your pussy. The pair of you cried out in unison, panting into each other’s mouth while adjusting. Your legs wrapped back up around Lance’s softened waist, whimpering at the stretch. He fared no better, lips barely touching your own as he groaned out, “Baby- baby, sh-shit!”

There were a couple of tentative thrusts before Lance eased into a rhythm. His arms were still strong as ever. One was braced next to your head and the other held your waist as he fucked into you. You felt up whatever muscle or softness you could grab on the Olympian, moaning his name in a desperate litany. Lance was back to nonsensically talking, switching between praising your body to extolling his virtues.

You wanted him to talk about you more.

Squeezing your inner walls down on Lance made the man stutter on his thrust, moaning sluttily. You used the pause to flip him onto his back with an ‘oof’. Smirking down at him you bounced up and down roughly, hands pulling at your nipples. “You’re soo lucky Tuck, guess Mags doesn’t, ah, put out for you anymore?”

Lance gripped at your hips rough enough to leave a bruise, smacking his hips into your own. It sounded like a serious porno in the room with all the wet noises, whining, and smacking. He gritted out, “Guess you weren’t getting much either huh? Sure there’s plenty of fish in the sea that can deal with your attitude.” He got a slap again, making those pretty blues roll up.

You shoved your lips against his, Lance sitting upright to wrap around you, one of those calloused hands snaking it’s way around. His belly was soft against your own, making you moan into his mouth. He jerked up into your pussy, you meeting him shamefully with rough bounces. His cock was rubbing against your sweet spot, pushing ‘ah ah ahs’ out of your mouth.

Your were beginning to shake down to your thighs, scratching at his muscular back. Lance growled against your lips, “Taking my cock so good yeah? Sucking me down like a good slut! Fuck, yes!” You threw your head back and shouted eagerly. In a guttural rasp you replied, “Yeah yeah- fucking hell- you’re a good lay I’ll give you that, daddy.”

Lance’s eyes blew black and he slapped your ass, choking on a groan. The pair of you bickered and panted, writhing into eachother. The noises reached a fever pitch, you whining in pleasure, Lance babbling nonsensically. Your pussy tightened and twitched.

“F-fuck, Tucker, gonna cum, harder!”

He swore, “Fucking slut, god!” He pushed you onto your back, hands holding your hips as he jackhammered into your pulsing cunt. You cried and squirmed, going rigid and cumming hard, eyes rolling up. Lance choked your name out, whimpering softly, growing sloppy with his thrusts. He rasped brokenly, “God fucking damn baby, oh god!”

“Fill me up, fill me up,” you chanted.

Lance dug deep a final time, mouthing into your neck as he spilled into you, grunting and moaning. He collapsed flat on top of you with broken little noises, face smushed into your neck still. You sighed in content, lazily rubbing his back in content. His cock began to soften, seed dribbling out between your thighs.

“Hmm, see you again in Paris, Tucker?”

“Uh-huh, maybe some more before that,” he looked up to stare at you, “I need some…hm, help?”

“You? Asking for help?,” you laughed.

He rolled his eyes and laid his head back down, groaning in annoyance.

#lance tucker x reader #lance tucker smut

[thecowboykatsuki-anon]

Unfinished Business- Chapter 1

Summary: You never imagined Bakugou would fall in love with you, and you certainly never imagined you’d break up with him. But he did. And you do. And now there’s too many pieces for one person to pick up. 

Genre: angst, possible smut in further chapters

Word Count: 2,430

Chapter warnings: cussing, reader has a quirk (can produce a neurotoxin that can temporarily paralyze enemies or temporarily take away pain; cannot produce both types at the same time; does not work on self)

A/N- song I listened to while writing: At Least by Jessica Baio; this chapter is formatted a bit differently, as it’s mostly a precursor to the main story, and I kinda got carried away creating a basis for the relationship with Bakugou. Oops? Reblogs/comments greatly appreciated! <3

When you first met Pro-Hero Dynamight, it had been pure chance. He'd been on his way to starting his own agency but still putting in hours as one of his old mentor's best heroes.

You weren't sure what made Jeanist think you'd be a promising duo, but he was insistent on pairing the two of you up on patrol, despite the large gap in experience.

And it wasn't that you weren't a good hero, with a quirk suited for both attack and rescue; you were lucky you'd gotten so much time in the field. But despite all this, Bakugou still felt miles ahead of you in experience, something he was sure to remind you of when you went on your first patrol together.

It wasn't a secret that the blonde was prickly and had a temper, and as much as he respected his mentor, he clearly wasn't happy about being partnered up. He'd insisted for the first hour that he worked better alone because 'he didn't have to worry about anyone keeping up with him.

The irony that he was trailing behind you the whole time wasn't lost on you as you pretended to listen, scanning the dark streets for any disturbances while he grumbled, strutting like he owned the entire city.

He was insufferable, tugging on a strand of your hair every time he felt like maybe you weren't paying attention to his bragging. He was so caught up in pestering you that you almost missed the black-clad figure crawling out of an upper apartment window with a backpack slung over their shoulder.

You'd taken off first, Bakugou cursing behind you, and after a brief chase, you couldn't help but laugh, panting with the robber incapacitated beneath your knee.

"I thought no one could keep up with you, Dynamight," you'd teased when he stopped next to you, puffing. He'd froze, and for a moment, you were sure he was gonna blow you up right then and there, and then he'd laughed.

Full-on laughed like the sound had started in his toes and worked its way up, and you'd been so startled that he only laughed harder.

Everything after that just fell into place. Bakugou requested to be paired with you more often, no matter which shifts you had to take, insisting on carpooling when you had graveyard shifts, coffee waiting for you in the center cupholder of his car. He'd only ever heard you order it once, yet he got it made perfectly every time.

Over the months, you spent as much time together outside of work as inside, and movie nights at your apartment more often turned into you and the large pro falling asleep on your couch, far closer than you'd been when you first fell asleep. You quickly got acquainted with the smell of his cologne, the way the corners of his mouth twitched when he was trying not to laugh, and the way he used insults to convey affection.

You would be lying if you said you didn't fall hard for him, cherishing those quiet patrols where the two of you would be able to look over the dark city from a rooftop, talking about nothing and everything.

And then suddenly, his agency started to take off, and he was gone more than he was around. You were back to solo patrols, and he spent most of his time with Jeanist, trying to learn how to manage an entire company.

And yet, without fail, there was always a coffee on your desk at some point during your shift, the only indicator you'd get that he was around at all. Well, besides the occasional glimpse of orange and green as he headed out on more important missions.

He always seemed to know when you had your own big missions coming up, suddenly appearing in the gear room to help you get suited up without a word, cracking jokes to ease your nerves.

The only time the blonde ever helped you quietly was before your first covert mission with him, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he helped you zip up your suit. He clearly had a lot on his mind, mouth set into a firm line as he adjusted your equipment absently.

In truth, you knew why. Bakugou'd voiced the opinion that this mission hadn't been scouted enough, that they'd be sending in heroes blind, but the commission had disagreed, and he'd been outvoted.

You tried to joke with the blonde once before you parted ways, teasing him about keeping up with you, an attempt at some sort of reassurance for both of you, earning you nothing but a strained smile before he busied himself with checking over his own suit.

You'd turned to leave when his hand had shot out, catching your wrist in his hand, the material of his glove catching on your skin.

"Come back safe, 'kay?" He'd murmured quietly, cracking a small smile when he took in your stunned stance. "We've got unfinished business," he joked weakly, and as he released you, you couldn't help but wonder if he had meant more than just your competition to see who was faster.

As it turns out, he'd been right about the mission, with more heroes coming back hurt than there should have been, comms lost for more than half the conflict. He'd crushed you into his chest when he'd found you back at the agency, unhurt besides a few scratches and bruises littering your skin.

He'd insisted on spending the night at your place after you'd been cleared medically, just in case they'd missed something, and for the first time, he'd crawled into your bed. Of course, a few hundred pillows propped between the two of you.

After that, you saw him more. He made a point to see you when he delivered your coffee, fingertips brushing over yours when he handed you the cup.

During a meeting discussing the plan for you to take over Dynamight's duties when he left, Bakugou silently handed one off to you in front of Jeanist. The older pro had stopped mid-sentence to watch the exchange, raising a brow and asking the younger blonde if everyone got that same special treatment in his agency, earning a glare from Bakugou as his face turned bright red, and you ducked your head to hide your own embarrassment.

Jeanist wasn't the only one to notice the closeness between the two of you, other coworkers gushing to you about how cute you'd look together as you shushed them, denying the way your heart raced at the thought.

But you couldn't lie that you'd noticed a change in your interactions with the blonde, waving them away as him just being friendly, even as you now spent your movie nights in his arms, his breath warm on the back of your neck.

He wasn't able to come help you suit up anymore, running a new agency clearly taking a toll on him, but for specific missions, he'd still show, right before you left, to give your hand a squeeze and say: "Come back safe, we've got unfinished business" with a wink or a smile. It became the new ritual, and you'd be lying if you claimed that he didn't awaken a swarm of butterflies in your stomach every time he grabbed your hand.

And just when you'd resigned yourself to the current closeness, sure this is all you'd ever get from him, you'd been sent off on a dangerous mission without him.

You hadn't meant to overhear it when he had been arguing with Jeanist in the old pro's office, you hadn't even known he was around, but you couldn't help but listen.

"Let me go with her. I'll be more of an asset there than I will here," Bakugou insisted, his voice muffled by the thick wooden door between you. You could hear the frustration in his voice and the heavy sigh that Jeanist let out before responding.

"You have a new agency to run; you can't go away for a week, Dynamight. Think like the number 3 pro, please," Jeanist pleaded.

"I am! She's not ready for this," Bakugou snapped back, and hurt rolled through you at his statement. You'd worked just as hard as he had to get here, and you'd thought if anyone had known that, it would be him. You turned to leave when Jeanist's response caught your attention.

"She's not ready for this, or you're not? Don't let your personal feelings cloud your judgment."

There was a long pause before Bakugou spoke again, quiet enough that you had to strain to hear him, nearly pressed up against the door, heart in your throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, and you jumped at the sound of Jeanist's soft chuckle.

"Bakugou, I have eyes. And so does every other employee here. You don't have to-"

"I'm not talking about this," Bakugou cut off his mentor quickly, his voice much closer than it had been a moment ago as he stomped across the office. You scrambled away from the door right as it swung open, dragging your horrified gaze to meet Bakugou's, and for a long moment, the two of you just stared at each other like deer in headlights.

You opened your mouth, stammering out an excuse about needing to talk to Jeanist, but Bakugou pushed past you silently before you could finish, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

You didn't see him for the next two weeks, and every text you sent him was replied to with as few words as possible. You forced yourself to busy yourself with prepping for your mission, but your thoughts wandered to the blonde often, wondering if he missed you like you were missing him.

You didn't expect him to show up in the gear room, assuming everything was over between the two of you, the embarrassment that people thought he liked you too much for the man to handle.

You had your back turned, suit half-zipped in the back, when familiar hands brushed over your skin, making you jump.

"Let me help," he'd murmured, and you froze, all the frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface as you rounded on the taller hero, ready to demand an explanation.

When your gaze met his, you stopped short, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, and softened. You opened your mouth to ask him what was going on with him when he shook his head, stopping you before you could start.

"I know I've been a dick. I'm sorry. I just- I needed to think- no, I needed to figure out how-" he stopped short, muttering under his breath as he tilted his head back to glare at the ceiling.

You glanced at the time quietly, fully aware that if you didn't leave now, you'd be late for the first mission you were in charge of. You stepped forward, pressing a hand against the hard plane of his chest to get his attention, and shook your head as you spoke, eyes cast down. "Katsuki, listen, I need to go, so whatever it is you need to say, you'll have to-"

His eyes widened in panic as you spoke, and his hand flew to trap yours against his chest. You glanced up sharply as his other hand found your face, tilting your jaw as he folded himself in half to clumsily slot his mouth over yours.

You'd imagined so many times what his lips felt like, but as you stood there in shock, all that you could think of was how soft they were, his hand sliding back to cup the back of your neck so he could kiss you deeper, smoother, a content hum rumbling through his chest. Beneath your hand, you could feel his heart hammering, rivaling the pounding of your own as your fingers curled into his shirt.

He kissed you slowly like he was trying to drink you in, his hand leaving yours on his chest to land on your hip and pull you flush against him. You let out a quiet whine against his mouth, and the sound seemed to snap him out of it as he pulled away just enough to press his forehead against yours, panting quietly. His cheeks were tinged when he spoke, his thumb sliding over your bottom lip as he watched.

"Come back to me," he breathed, amending the statement you'd gotten so used to hearing fall from those lips before continuing. "We've got unfinished business," he chuckled softly, and for a moment, you were sure he would kiss you again as you stretched forward, eyes fluttering shut.

"You're gonna be late," he warned quietly, pulling gently out of your reach as his hands fell from your body, and then he was gone.

If someone had asked you now to give a full recount of that mission, you'd fail. But you could remember your reunion with Katsuki down to every last detail.

You hadn't even given him a chance to talk when he'd walked into your apartment, shutting him up with your mouth pressed against his, your hands tangled in his hair to tug him down to you.

He'd grunted in surprise but happily obliged, warm hands spreading over your hips to tug you closer as you walked him backward, only breaking apart when the back of his legs hit the edge of your couch, and he toppled back, taking you with him.

He was careful to break your fall, and you were careful not to hurt him as you fell, and he chuckled, his face pressed against your cheek as he held you close.

"Missed you," he breathed, relaxing his hold enough to let you look up at him, a broad smile spreading across his face. You reached up to cup his cheek, heart fluttering when he closed his eyes and leaned into it, his lips brushing over your palm.

"This feels right," he admitted, pretty ruby eyes fluttering open as he leaned forward to press a softer, less desperate kiss against your mouth as you melted into him, humming in agreement.

After nearly a year of being so close to the pro but holding yourself back, this felt like coming home, like he'd filled a hole you were denying existed. You felt complete in his arms, surrounded by his cologne and his lips brushing against yours.

At that moment, you were sure you'd found in Katsuki Bakugou a love that would last forever. But in the end, forever was just a little too far away.

#bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha fic #Dynamight x reader #pro hero dynamight #pro hero Dynamight x reader #T writes #thecowboyanon writes #t.writes #cowboy anon writes #unfinished business #unfinished business chapter 1 #chapter 1 #ex!bakugou #ex!bakugou x reader

[x-fantasy-is-my-reality-x]

Mayhem

"Genos..."

"Yes Sen-" A piece of soap came soaring in a wide arc to smack the young cyborg full on the face, stunning him into silence for a second. It fell into his hand, now imprinted with the vague definition of his features as a scream ran out from inside the locker room.

He frowned upon closer inspection; was that a bite mark embedded deep on the surface of the disfigured soap?

"Genos. Look," Saitama pointed calmly behind him in the doorway, his oval face boasting the same unreadable expression as always, a complete contrast to the chaos unfolding before them.

God was dead, and so were any of their remaining brain cells.

They, as in Metal Bat and Garou, were in the process of bashing each other's brains out in front of the hot tub with nothing but small towels wrapped around their waists, while a scantily clad Mumen Rider tried unsuccessfully to hold them apart. Bang and Atomic Samurai sat impassively in the tub behind them, occasionally commenting on their moves and acting as if nothing was wrong with two extremely buff and hot-headed boys trying their damn hardest to throttle each other. And was a baseball bat even allowed inside a locker room?

"Sensei, should we do something?" Genos asked with a glance at the bald hero.

"Nah, let's just find a place to sit before they burn down the building."

And part of him almost wished they did when Puri Puri Prisoner suddenly strutted in front of them buck-ass nude, heading with questionable intentions straight for Zombieman who was just trying to wash his hair on the bench.

"Hey! Cut it out you idiots! No one wants to deal with you two so just get out!" Another familiar voice rang out above all the noise as Amai Mask stomped over to the teenage brawlers, who were now completely naked and bloody. Neither pair seemed to realize that their towels had long been discarded, and Metal Bat was bleeding heavily from the face while Garou sported a few dark-colored bruises. Metal Bat swung once Amai Mask was within range, spitting out a few colorful curses that would put any sailor to shame as he missed by a hair.

The battle escalated, now a three-way fight as Mumen Rider lay passed out a few feet away, caught in the earlier crossfire. The poor guy would need new glasses once again.

"Here should be a good spot," Saitama said, pointing at a few unoccupied benches further away. It wasn't until a solid ten minutes that he sensed something was off, as if someone was watching him. Turning to the left, he was met with the blank gaze of a man in a furry white suit perched on top of the tiled wall, Watchdog Man.

How long has this guy been watching me?

He gazed back but Watchdog Man refused to look away. Maybe he was in an odd coma or something.

Okay...

"Sensei what's wrong?" Genos asked, as if sensing his discomfort.

"It's nothing I-" He was interrupted by a war cry as a ninja star suddenly lodged itself in the wall in front of him.

"Saitama! I've tracked you all the way here, now come fight me!" Sonic howled, not even waiting for a reply as he leapt towards him fully clothed from the entrance.

At least this one has clothes on, Saitama sighed.

"I'll take care of this Sensei!" Genos zoomed past him, incinerator glowing orange.

"No wait Genos! Don't use your cannons-"

BOOM!

The outer layer of the wall on the opposite side crumbled, leaving charred concrete behind as Sonic bounced around the open area.

"Ah, too late. Well, hopefully he has enough to pay for the repairs."

"Ah shit! You'll pay for that!" Flashy Flash roared as Sonic and Genos barreled into him and knocked him into a bucket of soapy water.

"Wait Flashy Flash!" Child Emperor pleaded, immediately chasing after them with the help of mechanical spider legs that sprouted from his backpack. The bathhouse really needed to upgrade their security. The three of them were now a dizzy blur dancing around the locker room.

Zombieman was sent flying into the wall as they rammed into him blindly, the back of his head hitting the wall with a sickening crack.

"Sorry!"

"Oh my God you killed him!" Puri Puri Prisoner sobbed in anguish, sprinting after him in all his naked glory.

Truth be told, to Zombieman the brief respite that death offered was far better than the awkward conversation he had been having with the ex-convict after the shittiest pick-up line he had ever heard in his entire immortal life.

"Have you ever been arrested?" Puri Puri Prisoner purred, fluttering his eyelashes at the pale man.

Zombieman furrowed his brows, replying with a very confused and hesitant "No?"

"Why do you ask?" He continued, nearly shuddering at the way the tall hero was eyeing his exposed chest.

"Because it must be illegal to look that good," Puri Puri Prisoner finished, and Zombieman could swear that the world was out to get him.

"Uh thanks," he muttered awkwardly. Never in his life would he have thought he would have be hit on by a criminal hero in the middle of a locker room full of out-of-control men acting like it was the goddamn apocalypse.

Yeah, death sounded good right about now. He would take every precious second enjoying the darkness before he healed and was dragged back into that living nightmare. Perhaps it was time to invest in some therapy.

"Garou, my boy, did you forget every technique I taught you? You're holding your hand wrong. You need to strike with your palm at an angle," Bang corrected as Metal Bat dodged his attack.

"Shut up old man! I wasn't trying to use your stupid technique anyways!" Garou snarled, springing forward again.

"Hey whose side are ya on anyways?"

"Sorry Metal Bat, old men like myself just can't help it," Bang grinned sheepishly.

"You dare turn your back on me?" Amai Mask punched him in the ribs with his momentary distraction, only enraging the seventeen-year-old more.

"I'll rip yer fucking head off you prick!"

"I don't think I ever want to come here again," Saitama said calmly as he watched a fire break out in the wet bathhouse.

A ninja star exploded behind him as Puri Puri Prisoner strutted past his vision. 

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