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natsfirecat · 3 months

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Master of Death

wassup besties, I wrote a story for my creative writing class with the intention of one of the characters representing Natasha, and I decided to change some things and make it into a fit to post here! It's in 3rd person, which isn't my fav to read but idc I'm not changing this entire thing to second person </3

ANYWAYS enjoy!!

Nat x fem reader as always

Laying in her lover’s arms, Y/N looked up and let out her final breath. Natasha’s heart stopped as she felt the rise and fall of her lover’s chest come to an end.

Nothing was clear during the following moments. Not even screams of agony could be heard from the surrounding teammates. A gust of wind circled around the two women, engulfing them in the dust.

The enemy began to draw back. The Chitari forces moved farther and farther away from the tornado brewing atop the hill. The rest of the Avengers backed away too. There was another force driving everyone away, and it certainly wasn’t the wind.

Inside the tornado, Natasha’s heart raced faster. The girl in her arms was holding the Eternal Life Source. This was what the Chitari had been seeking, and it would make them immortal, as well as their rule over humanity. Now, the source began to fade in Y/N’s hands. She began to fade too.

“No.” Natasha muttered. She squeezed her shoulders, shaking her, yelling into her ear; anything to get her to wake. But Y/N stayed still.

Green and white swirls of light formed around the Eternal Life Source. As the light became brighter, Y/N’s image began to fade more quickly. The yelling grew louder, but the swirls of light only continued to grow.

Within minutes, everything Natasha had been holding was gone. Now, she lay there crying over mere empty space. The tornado died down as well, revealing what had happened to the surrounding fighters.

Even the Chitari drew back, while the heroes ran up to Natasha. The five of them surrounded her, each offering out an arm for support. She scowled, ignoring everyone. There was nothing anyone could do for her.

Y/N was gone… and Natasha was alone.

She couldn’t stay. She had to avenge Y/N. The Chitari needed to be wiped out so they could never hurt anyone ever again.

It was just after midnight when she left. She had trained as a spy all her life, it was no issue to deceive the people closest to her. Her red hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail as she crawled out the window down the side of the building. Natasha jumped on her motorcycle, then sped off.

The Avengers had been looking for the Eternal Life Source for years. Its power is great enough to immortalize an entire civilization. They agreed that no one should have that power, especially not the Chitari. So their plan was to find it first, then destroy it.

After so many years, its power finally showed up on their energy readings. Unfortunately, that meant the Chitari knew about it as well. So that’s when they set off on their mission. It was located in an isolated field in the North, and they were able to get there within a few days.

But there were only seven Avengers; the Chitari army was thousands. Y/N and Natasha were the only humans without any enhancements (besides Clint, of course). So it only made sense that they fell in love.

It started out from training sessions. The two girls would exchange lingering looks after spending hours sparring. Y/N was always the one to heal Natasha when she was hurt. She wrapped her wounds so delicately, it made the pain lessen.

After a losing battle, Natasha was there to comfort Y/N as she was for her. She would stroke her hair, holding her close. She’d tell her everything was going to be okay, and despite everything going wrong, Y/N would believe her simply because it was Natasha.

Their first kiss took place when they had the building to themselves. Music was playing quietly in the corner, and Y/N had gotten up for a snack. Natasha happened to be in the kitchen for the very same reason, staring into the refrigerator looking for something to eat.

No words were said as Y/N made her way over and wrapped her arms around the redhead to pull her into a hug. She rested her chin on her shoulder, breathing in her scent. Natasha grabbed her arms, and moved in a swaying motion. Y/N smiled as she realized what was happening, and leaned into her.

Even if they were the only ones without powers, there was magic that night. When they kissed, that’s when Natasha immediately knew that Y/N was her soulmate. She would do anything and everything for her.

And now, she would do anything and everything to get her back.

But Y/N wasn’t actually dead. No one knew, but the Eternal Life Source didn’t kill her. Its power was too much for one person to hold, so her life force ended up getting drained. But she wasn’t exactly dead, either.

Instead, she was just here. Nobody could see her, but she could still see others. Now, she was following her soulmate as she set off on a quest to bring her back.

Y/N wished more than anything that she could talk to Natasha, and let her know that she was here. But instead, there was nothing she could do except watch the woman she loved suffer like never before.

Natasha knew what she had to do. If the Eternal Life Source’s power is what ultimately killed Y/N, then she would simply have to harness the power of the Eternal Death Source. Then, she could get to her.

It had only been a day, but she was able to pick up on the readings. Of course, as soon as she noticed, she erased the data so the others couldn’t figure out her plan and stop her.

She rode her motorcycle as far as she could, but had to go on foot once she reached the cave system. It was dark and cold, both physically and emotionally. Natasha’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking since Y/N’s death; her lover would hold her hands close when she was nervous, and it always made her feel better. Now, there was no one to hold her hand and stop her heart from pounding against her chest.

Natasha’s fists were clenched as she walked in further. The feeling of dread was beginning to grow, which meant the Eternal Death Source was close. Tony and Clint had tried to check on her, to make sure she wouldn’t do something exactly like this. But she wouldn’t let them stop her.

The only light came from her screen, showing the energy readings of the Eternal Death Source. Just a little further, and she’d be there. She’d be able to reach Y/N.

The cave grew cooler, and her insides began to twist. She was here.

The Eternal Death Source showed a sacrifice. That’s what she needed to do to wield its power. But it couldn’t be anyone meaningless, it had to be someone she loved; that was the only way it would work.

As soon as she touched the glowing skull, a portal opened up, pulling Clint through. Besides Y/N, he was the one closest to her. He was there for her too, just in a different way.

He looked up and saw the Eternal Death Source. “Natasha, what are you doing?” Just then, a glowing knife appeared on the mantle next to the Eternal Death Source. She picked it up and looked down at him, trembling.

“It’s the only way I can get her back,” she muttered.

“Natasha, you don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t want to… but it’s the only way.”

He had been her friend all these years. She loved him, but she loved Y/N more. Clint tried to use his abilities to fight back, but he seemed to be frozen in place.

Black and purple light began to swirl around the knife. Natasha let out a shaky breath as she looked at her friend. It was all for Y/N.

Stifling her cries, in a single motion, she swung the knife down to end her friend’s life. It was done.

The black and purple light began to grow, completely engulfing her. Lightning crackled from the knife connecting to the Eternal Death Source. For a moment, Natasha was lifted off the ground. When she saw the dead body of her friend, she felt nothing.

Now, she wielded the power of the Eternal Death Source.

“Show me Y/N L/N.”

She felt the new power surging within her. The first thing she was was Clint’s spirit staring at her in shock. She still felt nothing about him, she couldn’t feel when she had this newfound power.

One movement, and an entire population would go extinct. One motion, and she could kill whoever she wanted.

And yet, it was all for nothing.

Y/N was there, in between life and death. She saw the woman she once loved wielding the power of death. She had killed her closest friend, and she wasn’t afraid to kill anyone else to get to her lost lover.

That was the moment Y/N lost hope. Natasha would spend eons using the power, massacring peoples, causing endless destruction. And it would all be for nothing.

Natasha Romanoff had the power of death. Soon, the Avengers would attempt to take her down, but it would be unsuccessful. She would stop at nothing to get back to Y/N.

The Master of Death was born that day, cursed to spend forever searching for the one spared by Life.

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x fem reader #Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fic #black widow #black widow fic #black widow x reader #black widow x fem reader #black widow x fem!reader #Natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #Natasha Romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #natalia alianovna romanova

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mr-jaybird · 1 year

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action scene writing tips

a couple days ago, i mentioned that i love writing action scenes and was happy to give advice on them. @charlezarrd asked me to write some up, and tragically i have been busy writing code and not fanfic. but here they are, just a little late!

this got long, so tips below the cut:

action scenes are all about tempo. when i'm writing an action scene, i am generally trying to write something that will make my readers feel like they're on a breakneck race to find out what happens next. real life dangerous situations (and i've been in more than i'd like) tend to feel very fast, like your perceptions can't even keep up with everything happening around you. it's that feeling i try to replicate when writing

to achieve that, it's okay to bend grammatical rules. i will deliberately write run on sentences, with clauses that would normally be a sentence on its own separated by a comma, in order to induce a feeling of rushing from one thing to the next with no time to separate your thoughts/feelings/experiences

for example, from my work:

She’s not going to make it, she’s not going to make it, she pushes and pushes and refuses to let herself open her mouth and speed up the drowning by trying to gasp in air that isn’t there.

each of those clauses could be its own sentence, but they're all running into each other instead!

the em dash is also your friend—using one like so can enable you to jump from one action-packed thought to the next, creating a sense of urgency

another example:

Aloy breaches the surface, drawing in air, but after a few huge gasps she looks down and sees Talanah below her, perhaps ten feet away, motionless and sinking—there is no hesitation.

it creates an abrupt, decisive feeling in your work!

if your scene goes long enough, it can be important to put pauses in that rapid tempo in to create breathing room. a good use of that can be taking a paragraph to show your character thinking through their tactics or strategy, which can show they are approaching the situation intelligently rather than reactively (if that's what you're trying to convey)

if you DO want the character to come across as reactive, you can take a pause instead with them taking a hit and needing a moment to catch their breath and get up from it, talking about the sensations it induces and/or the decision to keep going

for physical fights specifically, i tend to visualize it in my mind as comic book panels

for example:

He’s so much faster than Lis would have thought given his size, and even as she tries to dodge out of his way, he’s grabbed her and tossed her back against the wall. Lis hits with her shoulder, hard, and stumbles, slightly dazed. He’s already brought a fist to her stomach though, and Lis doubles over, winded, gasping for breath. The man strikes her back, hard, and she crashes to the floor.

each sentence there was a "panel" to me, and i needed to briefly describe each to have the fight work as a sequence. visualizing them that way helps me keep the fight sequence moving fluidly and logically

in general with fight scenes, it's important to keep track of which limbs are currently where and make sure each action flows naturally into the next—in complete honestly, i find it mechanically very similar to writing sex scenes in that respect

it's also important to remember that action scenes are often just as much mental as physical. pay attention to your character's reactions and emotions and highlight them occasionally as you go, so that you don't lose the emotional heart of your story in an action scene that's not actually saying anything about the character

above all else, have fun with it! think of crazy scenarios and go wild. don't get intimidated out of writing something you don't know--god knows i have never fought a giant robot t-rex

that's what i've got for now, hope it helps!

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devildomimagines · 2 years

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Can I request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC that’s OP like Saitama? They aren’t scared of anything and because of how inhumanly strong and fast they are, they have really fast reflexes against demons that try to attack them and can handle spells/curses with a blank face. They’ll punch someone so hard, the sap crashes several feet back with a large dent and MC’s like “That was barely a punch 😐”

HAHA this is great, I wrote this as the reader is the exception but imagine the human race is the most powerful of the three realms, I think that would be an interesting dynamic to explore.

Thank you as always for your patience. I’m not the fastest at writing due to irl circumstances. Since I always write more than planned, the other brothers are under the cut. Without further ado~

Belphegor

Well chapter 16 would have gone very differently 😂

Belphie has his hand around your throat and you’re looking at him with a bored expression.

You can feel him try to tighten his grip but it doesn’t make a difference.

He knows a bit about humans and this isn’t right.

Afterwards, he still kind of thinks you’re inhuman and he’s not totally off base.

What you can do, most humans wouldn’t even come close to being able to do.

Ultimately grateful for your defensive power because then he doesn’t have to babysit you while out in the Devildom and he can drop his guard to nap briefly.

Beelzebub

“Whoops,” You shrug as you leave the scene.

Beel just watched you “push” a demon across the room after they put an unwanted hand on your shoulder.

He’s impressed and wants to know you workout routine.

“100 sit-ups, 100 pushups, 100 squats and a 10 km run.”

He immediately adds it to his routine and you can work out with him.

As workout buddies, you push and support each other to be the best.

He’d get so soft and proud of you when you fling rude lesser demons out of your way.

Asmodeus

When you peel a pushy demon off of Asmo, he goes weak in the knees for a second as he swoons.

Asmo could have taken care of the demon but watching you take care of it without any strain makes him go 😍

He never doubted you but you’re definitely physically stronger than Solomon so Asmo covets a pact with you.

Loves when you manhandle him, even just for little things like pulling him out of the way, turning him around, or grabbing his wrists to stop him from getting too handsy.

Besides being immune to his charms, he’s the first to learn that you’re immune to other spells and curses.

He tests this with getting cursed make-up or dropping a few drops of potion into your drink.

You don’t even blink and he’s enthralled, you might just be the most interesting thing to happen in his life in a long time.

Satan

Doesn’t believe it until he sees it.

He tests your strengths not so sneakily. “Hey MC, can you move this couch? I think my pencil dropped under there while I was drawing.”

Adds your skills to his thought process when creating Anti Lucifer Club traps and inconveniences.

“What if you picked up Lucifer and put him in a pit of tar?”

“What if I didn’t want to do that?”

Satan treats you as an equal, sometimes forgetting that you’re human because you can destroy a wall with the best of them lol.

Leviathan

He thinks you’re so cool. All your stats are maxed out and you do it without even trying.

Likens you to some characters he knows, then you share the human world comparisons you’ve gotten (Saitama obviously lol).

He’s obsessed with the anime and manga because he can only think of you.

He says, “This character is just like you!” instead of the usual “You’re like this character” and it’s refreshing.

Levi asks how and why you got so powerful not for himself to get powerful though, just wants to get to know you better.

Boasts about you being the strongest human online.

When the haters question him, he asks if he can vlog with you so he can show you off.

Mammon

You made him double take when you were just as fast as him, if not faster??

Then he challenges you to races all the time, sometimes placing bets like, “I bet bathroom cleaning duty for a month that I’ll beat you to RAD.”

You take him on usually, it’s pretty 50/50 who wins and it somewhat shocks Mammon, it also makes him fall for you more.

He had taken pride in being the fastest and here you are showing him up, but he likes a partner that can keep up and keep him on his toes.

Oh the mischief you two could get up to and make a run for it if you agree to one of his schemes.

Mammon might be stronger than you so he offers to help you if something is too heavy with the most smug grin. (Please remember he’s like top 5 strongest of the whole realm)

Totally still acts like a babysitter/big brother even if you can take care of yourself, he’s just like that.

Lucifer

Maybe the most surprised brother.

He really thought that this exchange program was going to have him chaperoning a weak human so as to not get eaten within a week of arrival.

So it’s one less headache for him because he doesn’t have to watch over you everyday if you’re fast and strong.

Then he sees just how fast and how strong and he’s taken aback.

He had never seen someone rival Mammon’s speed besides himself and the way you punched that gluttony lesser demon across the room after they loomed hungrily over you left him speechless.

You’ve earned Lucifer’s respect and he’s indirectly proud of you for standing your own in the Devildom.

Might come to rely on you more as he begins to trust you.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #my writing #anon squad

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anastasiaskarsgard · 3 years

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A/n;So someone asked for smut for the perfect girl that decides she’s gonna have some fun before she dies. I’m A bit rusty. TW: sex, cursing, choking, 18+ NSFW

If you wanna read the first part it’s called perfect problem and is the last thing I wrote on here and posted...

“So where are we going?” Bethany asked as they got into some ridiculously expensive sports car. Adjusting her clothing and hair, she glanced over at Roman to find him just watching her.

Smirking his signature smirk, he turned the car on and raced out of the parking lot like he has stolen the car. “It’s a surprise.” Roman said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Eyes on the road Speed Racer! Ok well at least tell me what we are going to go do.” She whined.

“Nope. No can do princess. You’re just going to have to have a little faith.” He grinned.

“Your reputation doesn’t exactly inspire trust. No offense.” She felt bad as soon as she looked over. He looked almost sad. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m not serious.” She lied.

“I thought you were supposed to be smart...”

“Oh ho ho! Someone bounces back quick.”she jibed as she turned to look out the window. She wasn’t exactly familiar with the area so she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. There was trees, and then some houses, and then businesses so there’s no way to tell if they were going somewhere Residential or commercial.

Grabbing her phone to send out some emails, she wasn’t paying attention when she noticed the car had stopped. Looking up from her phone she made an incredulous face at Roman when she noticed that they were in front of a large mansion.

“Really?” She quipped.

“Hey Before you jump to conclusions, I’m just coming here to get into some more comfortable clothes. I can’t exactly have fun in a suit, now can I?” He got out of the car and walked around it to open her door. “You can look around or grab a drink or whatever you like while I change.”

Stepping out of The car, Bethany followed roman inside his home. “ not even gonna try that old give me a tour excuse?”

Scoffing, he shook his head no, and made a crossing motion over his heart. “Scouts honor.”

“What if that’s exactly what I wanted to do?” She breathed out as she made her best attempt at sexy. Licking her lips, and winking, she nearly cried out when all of a sudden he was only inches away from her. “You’re very fast. I hope that’s not true for everything though.”

Smirking, he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Pulling back to look at his face, she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, as he walked them up to his room. Seeing the insecurity creeping in, He kept an eye open to watch where he was going but smashed his mouth back into hers, in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. Completely losing herself, she was startled when he dropped her on the bed and crawled over her body, pressing himself into her, making his intentions clear.

Sitting up as he straddled her waist, he ripped his shirt off, sending buttons flying, before aggressively attacking her mouth once more. Her nails dug into his bare back and he groaned into her mouth, before kissing down her neck and onto her chest.

Abruptly, he jumped off her and stood over her a moment longer than she assumed it took to take off his pants, so she lifted her head, cocking a brow at him curiously.

“Dress off.” He ordered, his smile fading.

Smiling a Cheshire grin, she shook her head no and looked up at the ceiling. Not letting curiosity get the best of her, she refused to look at him when he huffed impatiently. Even when he had stormed out of the room, and returned a few minutes later, looming over her, she refused to award his bratty behavior.

“Please take your dress off.” He finally bit out.

For a moment She pondered denying him-- and in turn denying herself. But the fact remained, she wanted him, whether contrived or genuine, She did. And She was done not doing what She wanted.

“Stand up.” His voice shocked her out of her head and She found herself standing at the side of the bed. “Good girl.” He purred, his hand brushing her back as he walked behind her and She shivered, as she turned her head to look at him. “Head forward.”

She did so, waiting for him to come back into view and see how far he’d take this little game. When she heard the bed sheets move, she fought the urge to turn around until She felt his fingers on her back, drawing letters or shapes; she wasn’t sure. Roman hummed quietly, lulling her into a peaceful calm, when suddenly he pulled her back into him. He was sitting on the bed, his long legs slightly spread and he spun her around, and placed her straddling over his one naked leg. Somewhere, somehow He’d removed his pants.

Gently he traced up her chest and wrapped one hand in her hair, pulling her forward so he could kiss her neck. Surprisingly, he bit her ... hard. Instead of pain, her senses exploded, causing her to moan wantonly, as she ground her core against his bare thigh.

When his other hand slid down her stomach, She Was almost embarrassed by how wet she had become.

“Stay still…” He said playfully in her ear as he slipped his fingers past the lace covering his goal. Plunging them within her, coating his fingers with her wetness, He gazed into her eyes lustily, as he Brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. “So ready for me.”

She nodded dumbly, lost in the sinful way his tongue worked around his fingers. Biting her lip, she must of looked pitiful, because Roman dropped character a moment to chuckle and move a piece of hair behind her ear affectionately. Almost lovingly.

Unfortunately she was way too far gone to contemplate what these gestures might mean. She wanted to fuck and she wanted those fingers to go back down there, but this was Roman Godfrey. The man Was unpredictable at best, and uncooperative the rest of the time.

Roman was a predator, and predators like to chase. As much as she wanted to just throw herself at him and demand to fuck her into oblivion, she Still had enough pride to play the game.

“I knew I was right.” He growled, Standing, releasing her hair, so he could wrap his hand around her throat. She grinned, not really caring what he meant. “Now, Im going to fuck you. I’m not going to be gentle, but I’m going to make sure you come so hard that you forget your fucking name.” He smirked cockily, still holding her by the throat. “I can see it in your eyes, that you’re a fucking freak under all that polite perfection. You’ve never fucked up or disappointed anyone ever. You’re loved and respected. Americas sweetheart.... I wonder what they’d all say if they saw you right now, ready to be my little fuck doll, cuz that’s exactly what you are.” Two of his fingers dragged across her cheek, Forcing their way in her mouth. She could taste herself on him and it made her nearly mad with need. She’d never been this turned on in her life. “You have the most perfect lips.” He said as he examined the way they wrapped around his fingers, “I’m going to put so many things in your mouth.”

She sucked briefly, before humming around his digits, lightly biting them. Swiftly, he removed them for a moment, before getting a mischievous look on his face and shoving them in as deep as he could, choking her slightly. Slightly panicked, she reached for his hand, but he just tsked and Tightened his grip on her throat, before ripping his fingers out of her mouth and plunging his tongue in their place.

She really needed to breathe, but eventhough she could feel her limbs growing weak, She didn’t fight him. Completely surrendering to the most arousing experience in her life.

“That’s why I’m going to keep you.” Before She could comment or recover, he removed her dress and threw her down on the bed, standing over her a moment to look her over.

He yanked her underwear down and dove two fingers into her roughly, making her arch her back. His expert fingers were moving faster and faster, getting her closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. It’d been a long time since a man made her orgasm, and she was certain, she’d never come close to this intensity. He reached down and pulled her up by the back of her neck, holding her against him like a rag doll, as he brought her closer. , his thumb brushed over her clit and She opened her mouth, trying not to scream. Her limbs started to shake, as her pelvis started thrusting into his hand, flailing about as Her vision began to blur. She closed her eyes tight, ready for the climax.

“Look at me. Look at who is making you feel this way,” he said seductively.

She breathed, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, as He quickened his pace again and added a third finger, making her buck, as she grabbed his rock hard erection, causing him to hiss, and roll on top of her.

“Patience.” He teased, pushing her legs apart. She looked in between his to see his cock standing hard and long against his stomach, a new need screamed within her, demanding him inside her right fucking now.

“What do you want?” He asked innocently, three fingers diving into her again. She closed her eyes from all the sensations, trying to get control, but she was past the point of pride now.

“Please--” She gasped. “Please.”

“Please what?” He pressed down on her clit and She wanted to kill him, but first had to fuck him. His other hand came down and pinched her nipple, twisting it and making her cry out.

“Fuck!” She screamed as he did the same to the other. “Fuck! Fuck me Roman! Fucking fuck me now or I’m going to kill you!”

He didn’t need to be told twice and She felt the large head of his cock against her entrance, before he just forced it inside her with one powerful thrust.

He was big and it took her body a moment to adjust to him, the burn slowly fading as he gave her a moment to breathe and relax herself to accommodate by far the largest cock she’d ever seen, let alone was inside of her.

Somehow it felt divine when he began to move again, and she moaned loudly, his body pressing down into her as he started to move his hips back and forth. She could feel him driving into her with solid, sure strokes as She clenched around him. His lips crashed into hers again as he pushed his hand under her ass and pulled her hips up, sitting back so he could move at a quicker pace. Setting her nerves on fire. Every inch of her body sang in extreme pleasure. His thrusts massaged her inner walls, the tension roaring through her, as he bottomed out and touched a place she’d never felt before, but the intensity made her screech.

She could feel the tell tale signs of an orgasm swelling through her but She held it back, making it feel sweeter and richer with each passing moment. His fingers dug into hips hard enough to break her bones as he closed his eyes, focusing on his own pleasure. His pace turned more erratic and She gripped him around his torso, desperately trying to hang on so they could both orgasm at the same time. Pulling him down and attempting to hide her face in his throat, he stopped and leaned back looking at her beautiful flushed face.

“Ah--ah-- ah--” He held still. “Look at me.”

She did, letting herself melt into his gaze as he started again, harder and faster than before. Noises came from her, she didn’t know She could make and his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing possessively. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her until She was right back to nearly cumming.

“Please--” It took effort to speak through his grip, but She was so close, she didn’t care if she had to beg. “Please, I’m so close--”

“Tell me how badly you want it.” He ordered, his own breath ragged.

“I need it-- please! Please, Roman!” She screamed like a desperate, shameless whore, before she exploded, tightening around him as his grip turned to a vice around her neck and somehow the lack of oxygen intensified the sensory overload to a new height. She drowned in the relentless, all encompassing sensations, that lasted far longer than She thought possible-- causing herself to completely release control for the first time in her life.

As the shocks rocked through her, she felt him stiffen and press into her as deep as possible, spending himself inside her. She couldn’t help but trip out a little about being so full of him. She’d never allowed anyone to finish inside her before.

“You really are good at everything,” he said playfully, as he rubbed his nose along hers, and held her a moment, before pulling out, and flopping down beside her. Brushing his fingers along her tight stomach, and full breasts, he decided she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

His mother was going to fucking hate her...

Perfect.

#bill skarsgard #roman #roman godfrey #my writing #smut #bill skarsgård smut #hemlock grove #perfect

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raymondshields · 2 years

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Write Your Name in Lightning; Cut Open The Heavens

'Verse: 100 Hours Hardcore SMP Pairing: Scar/Grian (romantic); Grian&Joel (platonic) Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Semi-Graphic Violence, Minor Character Death, Watcher!Grian, Sorcerer!Scar; the YHS is purely osmosis don't @ me Inspiration: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 Wordcount: 6961 Summary: Scar's back from his journey offworld, and that means he must be found and told he's loved immediately. Grian pulled himself back from the void against the rules set down by the Watchers, and such actions have consequences. Just because they have a designated third wheel doesn't mean they can't still keep their secrets. [ao3]

write your name in lightning, cut open the heavens blue; carve the scars onto my skin and follow the stars down the horizon road- pull the gods down from heaven and tie your life to mine. it’s in the poppy fields of a new world that i’ll love you: and only in that glassed wasteland’s grave will our hearts align.

Grian sat up, blinking, feeling distinctly as though his heart had been ripped from his chest and then shoved back in after a few moments left out in the cold, the wound itself patched up with duct tape. He was greeted by nothing but a dizzying display of blackness, eyes still frozen shut, eyebrows furrowed as he tried and failed to open them. What had...? Scar's laughter. The sound of him sobbing. Another heartbeat, not far from his face, a hand running through his hair and a voice he couldn't place or fully imagine calling him 'starlight'.

"Grian-"

"Hey, Grian. It's time to wake up, now."

Warmth swept through him like the desert dawn, sunlight chasing away the chill of the ice freezing his eyes shut. His heart, motionless and frozen, began to beat. Once, twice, and then a race faster than even the red-life's curse. He opened his eyes. Two feet away from him, sitting peacefully in darkness cross-legged with his hands chained to the ground, a smug but lopsided smile on his face and a faint white light in the distance, was Scar. His lover. His excuse for murder. His heart.

"Scar...?" He didn't recognize his own voice, not at first, not when it sounded like three of him were speaking at once, with a faint static in the air, like his voice had been modified.

Scar's smile widened, remaining lopsided. "There you are. Guess I was right about you all along. C'mon, we can go back now."

"Go back...?" Where were they going to go back to? An empty world with a border they couldn't cross, full of corpses? Scott had died as he'd lived, consumed at last by the red-life's curse that Jimmy couldn't quell from beyond the grave. There was nothing left there for them. He knew that. So then...?

"To Hermitcraft, silly bird. We've still got charged creepers to curtail and pranks to be had."

Grian blinked. Once, then twice, Scar's words both completely natural and entirely foreign to him. Hermitcraft... Yes, he'd gone there to escape, once. To pretend to be something he wasn't. He froze, not quite like the chill and more like sandstone, before very slowly turning to look at his wings. Yes, here he couldn't hide. Here, he couldn't blind anyone to what they could see. He could be a mortal parrot anywhere else, but between worlds, he would always be a Watcher, always be deification incarnate. He turned back to look at Scar, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, unsure.

Scar lifted his hands an inch off the ground. The chains held firm, but he shook his wrists, just enough to draw Grian's attention to them. "I tied myself to you," he said, simply. "I'm mortal. You're not. You never were. I didn't know at first, but I figured it out, right? I didn't pull you down from the heavens, you did that yourself. But I held you there, and now you're holding me here. We can go together, now. No more tug-o'-war. No more war."

If one thing could be said, it was that he had no idea how fast he could move when untethered to a mortal form. But he found himself abruptly sitting in Scar's lap, his fingertips at his lover's wrists. The chains vanished the moment he touched them, and Scar's hands grasped his own, tight with reassurance. He could feel the kiss through his shirt at his shoulder, and leaned back. Scar rose to his feet, lifting Grian into his arms as he did. He turned towards the faint light in the distance, and started to walk.

"C'mon," he whispered, voice low and soft and deep. Grian closed his eyes, leaning against him. He could listen to that voice forever. "Let's go back to our happy ending, together."

When he’d woken in a world washed with pine and peat and mossy stone, memories returning slow like water falling from dripstone or from his eyes, he’d curled into the fetal position and screamed until his voice was hoarse. When his voice had given out and he couldn’t scream any more, he resolved to get up and at least try to make himself a shelter for the night. It hadn’t been the first time he’d woken up in a new world with nothing but the memories of older, ravaged worlds that he’d had his hands face-deep in bloodshed over.

But when he’d closed his eyes to focus, to see if anyone else was currently within this new world, he’d found himself wholly and completely alone. And when he had bit his tongue until it drew blood, calling something a little bit beyond the world, two things had made themselves apparent:

One, this was the same world he’d fought two death games in, its terrain reset and buried until it was something new. If he dug deep enough, past the bedrock and past the void, he’d find the bones of his friends and his own semi-mortal skeleton paralyzed in the ground. And two, the steady ticking of a clock, tick-tock, tick-tock. A chill had run down his spine, and he had learned two more rules to this world. At least it was inner knowledge, called from magic and deification, and that made it significantly more trustworthy. The third rule was that he only had one life. If he died, the world would fall with him into the darkness.

The fourth, and the most important, was that he had a total one hundred hours in this world: no more than that. Likely not less.

He’d spent the first week building himself a house with some gardens and villagers – whose language even now, after hundreds of worlds, he still couldn’t speak worth his shovel – and resolving to spend his hundred hours in this world remembering what it was like to be alone, and to let the bloodlust soothe itself, and all the reasons why he’d stolen a mortal corpse and made it his own in the first place. It wasn’t just running from the Watchers.

Okay, maybe it was a little bit running from the Watchers. But that hadn’t been the only reason he’d tied himself to a mortal body, and that was good, because in order to be here, he must have failed at that so severely that this must have been his punishment. Not quite a hell tailored specifically for him, they wouldn't have reset the terrain if they were trying to tailor it for him. Maybe more a purgatory.

The second week brought Joel and Scar, who promptly shot arrows at him and set up TNT traps and made it clear their only jest was the bloodlust and how close they could inch to death without managing it. Scar had built his home hanging from a great tree off the side of a gorge, half a mile above a river he didn’t even have clearance for.

He loved them too much for it to be a hell. He loved them far, far too much, and knowing there to be no danger but their own stupidity, he’d allowed himself to relax, and kiss Scar when the nights were quiet, and joust ghasts with Joel by his side. It had been a long time, that he could remember, since he had been able to relax, and enjoy being mortal for a little while.

“Jimmy, you hit me, you moron!”

“No I didn’t! I didn’t hit you!”

He swung his sword at the nearest vex – as family as the Watchers, really, don’t think about it, don’t think about what you’re doing, just try to survive, just under forty hours in – and jumped, just in time for the evoker’s fangs to slice just below him. Thank the stars he had his wings.

“Oh, oh, there’s so many-“

“Totems!”

He was barely listening, backtracking to the stairs just to catch a few gasps of winded breath. A pair of creepers followed him, tripping on the gap. He dispatched them with a well-timed swing of his sword, bolting towards the nearest room to toss a torch or two into it. Joel, always ready for a fight, ran down the length of the hallway yelling something incomprehensible in the chaos.

“Why’re you going so far in?” he yelled. Joel yelled back an apology before doubling back. Something golden caught his eye and he bolted forward instead- “Totems!” -Joel’s words finally kicking in.

Something smacked him in the arm as he doubled back towards the stairway, vexes chasing them back, multiplying almost as fast as they were dispatching them.

“Oh, I just got hit so hard- something I think was Tim-“ he snarled, half-snappish, voice echoing down the hall.

“I swear, Jimmy, if you’re the thing that kills us-“ Joel halfway answered, swiping at a vex before dodging behind a pillar.

“I’m trying not to!” Jimmy’s words were halfway muffled by mirth and exhaustion. The battles had been almost endless since the second floor. It was nice, to fight with friends without the bloodlust roaring in his wrists. But they dispatched the vexes at last, although he could hear the snarling of one more illager behind the thick wooden walls.

“Right, there’s one more, I think we haven’t actually gotten to the meeting room.” He advanced, shield and sword in hand and caked in gore, scanning the hallway in case of the evoker reappearing. Evokers had vexes, but they also had totems, and that was the whole point of defeating the mansion. Scar needed them, if he was going to make it all one hundred hours.

The pain registered against his back before he felt his legs give out. A second slash, and all he heard was the sound of a window shattering.

Joel tensed. Grian looked up from the blueprint spread across Joel’s kitchen table, puzzling his way through repairing the bridge Joel had made through a mountain to make it slightly easier to reach him – or rather, his enchanting table – when it was needed. They'd been home from the mansion for a few days, half a shulker's worth of totems stashed away for Scar upon his return from another world's hospital. The middle of nowhere didn't specialize in heavy-duty antibiotics, and Grian couldn't leave the world without killing it. It was nice, to be at Joel's.

“What’s wrong?”

“Scar’s back,” he said, eyes focused in that way recognizable as a man checking who was currently present on the world. He blinked before smiling at Grian, expression sunny as the desert. Grian’s heart clenched, briefly and painfully stilling before dropping into a fiery race. Scar was back, he’d finished the quest of not dying in another world and he was back, he was home, he was where Grian could find and protect him, where he could protect Grian-

“That’s good,” he managed. “We should go check up on him, then, I’m about ready for a break anyway from the nonsense you call architecture.”

Joel glared at him before bursting into brief laugher, exaggerating an irked pose. “I think I’ll check in with him tomorrow – how about you go see him now? Shouldn’t overwhelm him so suddenly.” Grian tilted his head, studying his building partner for a moment. Joel winked, leaning forward to push Grian by the shoulders in his chair.

He lifted his hands in surrender. The fire in his chest roared to an inferno. “All right, all right. I’ll go see him now, since you’re too much a coward to come with.”

Joel laughed. Grian’s own quickly followed.

He wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t running, why he wasn’t flying and travelling as fast as he could to get to Scar’s home and into his arms where nothing, not even the Watchers, not even the ex Scar had used up half a season’s allotment of magic to curse, could hurt either one of them.

He wasn’t so daft to say that they might have been allowed to win the first death games they’d taken part in if he’d been allowed to spend more time in Scar’s arms. But Joel had never asked after the manner of their relationship, only stepped aside to ensure he wasn’t physically between them in hopes of not ending up sandwiched between them. “This is what you get for being straight, Joel,” he’d remarked once, and his friend had laughed almost hard enough for his wife to hear all the way in the Ocean Empire, several worlds down a spatial highway and a few hours by fiber-optic train.

Scar had been building a rollercoaster here, modeled after that very train, and it wasn’t quite done yet, and he wasn’t taking it, he wasn’t allowing himself the simple joy of experiencing Scar’s handiwork as he meant it to be experienced. No, he was walking at an almost leisurely pace, flight feathers drifting across the mossy ground and pausing every few moments to investigate a flower or particularly interesting bush. Every part of him, every instinct from human to bird to Watcher all said the same; to run for his lover and sit on him until he understood that leaving was a terrible idea and returning was the greatest since the only time he'd donned a veil and cloak as a mortal man.

He could feel Scar’s magic course through his collarbone, the magic he’d been gifted with that secret kiss. Even now, lightyears and years away from that world, he could feel that magic. It pulsed like a heartbeat, it always had, strengthening with physical proximity to his lover. Every instinct in his body told him to run for the one person he’d trusted enough to openly show mortal wounds to… every instinct except for one.

Joel and Jimmy had helped him out of the mansion after he’d kissed his own corpse’s forehead and brought it back to life, healing over the wounds before stepping back into it. Neither of them had seen the eyes scattered across his wings, the halo, the blindfold he’d needed to avoid ripping the world apart with his gaze. They only saw him sit back up after they’d dispatched the final room of illagers. Joel, unsure if he could stand, had scooped him up and carried him out, allowing the torches to set the whole damn thing ablaze in their wake.

The inferno engulfing the mansion wasn’t so quick or so powerful as the greatest spells he'd ever seen, but it had still felt like he could taste the smoke of that world’s ashes in the back of his throat as the trio watched it burn, standing knee-deep in the river, safe from the flames. Jimmy had jumped into the first boat he’d pulled from his inventory and fled, understanding from the past two worlds at this address that standing beside two murderers watching the flames of a supposed villain’s home was not a smart idea.

He knew why he wasn’t rushing. He only had one life, after all, but he’d broken the rules.

Thirteen hours hummed behind his eyelids, eighty-six and some minutes left to go. There were consequences for turning back time. There were consequences for bringing deification into a world he’d chosen to be mortal within.

The world had been soaked in blood, and he’d thrown himself down from his throne to the remains of the desert to stay with those he loved.

The moon had crashed into the world, and he'd fled from the world in the arms of his friends to stay with those he loved.

He’d held to Scar’s chest, letting his cloak hide them both as Scott burned bright as a curse of consequences for daring to choose something other than bloodlust, and he’d stayed to witness the remains with those he loved.

The world had burned and seared its way to glass, and he'd held fast to his lover with twin black veils to their chin to stay with the one he loved.

He kept walking, slow and steady, stopping to consider the flowers on his way. He would be at Scar’s soon, and if he’d learned anything from mortality, it was that they didn’t need to all be priests in order to tease the secrets of deities out from the code that made them. Sometimes, all they needed to be was sorcerers.

Scar wasn’t waiting for him at the door of his house when he stepped onto the entryway bridge, but the front door was ajar and a dog slept just inside. It didn’t raise its head as he walked across the bridge, creaking the floorboards all the way. He wanted Scar to hear him coming. Willing his own invisibility was fine and good, if he wanted to pay the price of startling his lover out a window and down to the churning river below. He stopped in the doorframe, not quite over the threshold, hesitating a moment. Scar’s magic slipped its way through his veins, pulsing like a heartbeat, like the heartbeat of the man it had originally belonged to.

He breathed in the scent of sweet, clean forest air and burning pine, the smoke drifting out an open window from the running furnace pushed to one side. He closed his eyes, breathing in the taste of the woodstove, breathing in the scent of Scar’s magic. It wasn’t that his magical signature matched the gorge, but he’d built everything here but the natural landscape, and that scent was as baked into the walls as the sawdust from cutting up the planks.

There would never be a world, he didn’t think, where the scent of something burning didn’t translate to safety. He inhaled one more, one last breath of Scar’s magic and burning pine, before lifting his chin to call out. “Scar? You home?”

“Upstairs!” came the reply of a cheery-sounding, baritone voice, and he smiled with half a chuckle, reaching for the ladder. The tuxedo cat at the foot of the furnace flicked its tail, but did not lift its muzzle to mark his passage. That was almost all right: every animal save Jellie and the birds ran from him, given half a chance. They knew something was wrong, and could never put their paws on it.

He climbed the ladder with quick jumps, wings folded tight against his back until he landed on the third floor, turning to face Scar’s bedroom. Scar himself was sitting up in his bed, propped up by pillows and his redstone socks that allowed him to walk discarded beside his nightstand. He didn’t look well, as far as Scar usually looked, wearing nothing but pajama pants and a wizard’s hat, his lithe figure decorated only with a scattering of his namesake and heavy-duty bandages wrapping around his abdomen.

His chest was still sculpted by a master of the craft, crossed with a few patches of dark hair, his left breast splatter-dyed a paler shade of tanned oak across the heart. His arms were equally sculpted, equally marked with old wounds and old stories. His hips weren’t clearly visible between his sleepwear and his bandages, and they didn’t need to be for Grian to remember what they looked like. His legs rested atop the blankets, one propped up with a spare pillow. And his face… His hair was long enough he’d brushed it back into a small ponytail; not quite long enough for all of it to fit, enough that half his hair still stuck up in various angles around his forehead. He hadn’t shaved once in the week he had been away from Grian’s side, but there was a smile on his lips and his cheekbones were dark with exhaustion and illness.

He looked like he’d been thrown quite some distance into a tree by a ravager. Grian didn’t inhale, staring at him with wide eyes, taking in his form. Whenever Scar left his side, the full memory of his beauty went with him. When he returned, it always took a moment for Grian to remember how to breathe.

Scar smiled up at him, allowed him a moment to gather his composure as his own green eyes scanned Grian’s form. He let out a low whistle before beckoning him forward towards the bed. Towards him.

“Do you intend on just standing there, or do you want to be warm?” Scar asked, and the question was wholly rhetorical. Grian didn’t realize he was moving until he was already pouncing over the baseboard of Scar’s bed and into his arms. His face landed in his lover’s chest, wings settling to either side of them as he pressed a kiss to his sternum. Scar let out a soft hum of appreciation, pulling him closer with what arm strength he seemingly had. Grian shifted his position in response, settling himself between his legs and closing his eyes. Scar’s hand ran through his hair, stroking out any knots that might have formed since he’d last brushed it out.

“Mm, I missed you,” Grian murmured. “Feeling better?”

He felt the brief warm wetness of Scar’s lips against his forehead, spreading that warmth slowly but easily through the rest of him, like a wave of the sea sliding down his spine all the way to his toes. “Less like roadkill, that’s for sure,” came Scar’s reply, low and sweet as sugarcane. “Were you having fun here, my little bird?”

Grian laughed, and if it was halfway a desperation, something broken, he tried not to let it show. “Oh, you have no idea,” he answered.

He’d staggered home from Joel’s cottage alone, insisting that he could handle himself. When he was able to pull out of his armour and sweater, it was to find fracture-like wounds crossing his shoulders and biceps that hadn’t been there before, weeping a glowing green substance that seemed to instantly evaporate upon being touched by anything that wasn’t his skin. The green wouldn’t stain his clothes. He could hide it. It glowed as if his life itself was leaking out of him, slipping drop by drop out of his skin. The wound in his back where the illager had driven their axe into his back glowed a green so bright it was almost white. It didn’t hurt. It just glowed, and wept green, and reminded him every time he wanted to be less than fully dressed what it cost to call himself mortal when he wasn’t.

One hundred hours. He didn't want to know what happened when he touched sixty, let alone the full hundred.

When Scar shifted his weight to sit up, Grian sat up as well, smiling up at his lover’s tired, handsome face. Scar reached up with one hand to cup his cheek, and he closed his eyes briefly to enjoy the simple bliss of his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm. Scar’s magic pulsed in his collarbone, warm like fire and sparking with affection. Scar’s collarbone would feel similar, Grian’s own magic constantly humming adoration and obsession and approval as it extended his natural lifespan and accelerated the regeneration of his magic. They were better together. Even when that magical connection had been bled red and corrupted into a madman’s curse, they were better together. Even when the world had seared to glass in the wake of a wedding and Grian's magic was the only thing keeping Scar from death, they were better together.

Scar’s hand drifted from his cheek down to his chest and his side, coming to rest on his hip for a moment. “Come on,” he murmured. “Shirt off, and you can tell me all about your adventures.”

Grian looked up at him, scanning the multiple old wounds across his face before dipping his head, reaching first down to undo the buttons of the wing sleeves and then up to tug his sweater off, discarding it onto a nearby chair at Scar’s drawing desk. Under his sweater was a white tee, made of heavy enough linen that the glow of his resurrection wounds didn’t betray him so quickly.

But Scar pulled him closer, and he went, burying his face in his lover’s hair as he felt him tug the collar of his undershirt aside and press a kiss to the soft part of his neck. He exhaled deeply, sighing as he felt Scar lightly sink his teeth into his skin. Some things from the desert remained, and he was glad they were Scar's preference of privacy and his territorial love, not the curse that had driven them to so much unnecessary violence. The mark tingled as Scar tilted his head, marching kisses up the side of his neck. Grian tilted his head away, allowing him as much room as he needed to continue the gesture, cheeks flushing slightly when Scar’s hand drifted casually from just behind his hip to a little lower.

He shifted his arms around Scar’s shoulders, settling comfortably in his embrace. They normally slept together in a curled up heap, close enough for warmth and to share a single bed when resources were scarce. Spooning was reserved for the warm fields and forests of Hermitcraft, when there was no need to be so protective of each other that Scar wasn’t allowed to circulate blood through both arms. But here in the treetops, here where they were together and nothing could come near them enough to hurt them, he settled on top of his lover’s chest, halfway surrounded by a nest’s worth of pillows and blankets and his wings casually spread enough to take up most of the bed.

Scar pressed a kiss to his jawline and drew back, inhaling sharply in surprise. Grian opened his eyes, about to say something. “Grian, what the hell,” Scar hissed, tone low and suddenly on edge. He lifted his head so he could look up at him, feathers only slightly ruffled.

Scar’s lips weren’t quite dyed the same green as his eyes, but glowing green blood dripped from them all the same, evaporating instead of staining the scruff on his chin. Grian blinked, before shrugging. “We were trying to raid a woodland mansion, so we could get you some totems. I was jumped on the last room and kind of exploded.”

Scar licked his lips, eyebrows furrowed with his shock and concern. “This is a hardcore world,” he said, slowly, before glancing to the exposed skin of Grian’s shoulder and what was likely at least two fractures through his skin, emitting light that might have been almost blinding, at such close proximity. “What did you…” He paused. “Stupid question. You did Grian things and that’s why I collapsed on the packet-train.”

He seemed to have lost his words for the moment. Grian opened his mouth to reply, only for Scar to press a finger to his lips. “You need to be more careful, my little bird,” Scar murmured. “Dying in really stupid ways is my duty to the worlds, not yours. This many old wounds will start to ache after a few years, you know.”

Grian didn’t shift his position, but leaned back down, resting his chin on Scar’s shoulder. “One day you’ll tell me what you did to earn those wounds,” he whispered in return, voice only barely loud enough for his lover to hear. It had never really made sense, much as he wished it to: every wound Scar had ever sustained in any of the worlds they’d shared had disappeared when he left it, permanently tied to the data that made up their various realities. The ones he kept – the claw marks across one cheek, the gash across his nose, the obviously-healed-wrong nose itself, the slit in his eyebrow, the splatter-wound atop his heart, the straight gash across the centre of his throat, the ripped-apart seam down his spine, and various others – had been there when they’d met, and had never quite faded. They couldn’t have been from elytra accidents or creepers or ravagers or death games. They were too old to remember how to be forgotten. “I’m okay with us matching, in this world.”

Scar’s laugh was brief, and brilliant, and underscored with something bitter underneath his mirth. “You told me you were a god once, trusting I’d never believe you, when you showed me what happened for you to seek it out in the first place. I’d tell you where I came from, but you’d have to break me out of jail five minutes after we got off the train.”

Grian laughed, and pressed a kiss to his jawline, just underneath his ear. It was only very slightly pointed: not quite out of the realm of human, but enough on the edge that it told of some fae ancestry somewhere in his heritage. It would answer where his magic had originally come from, before Grian had pledged his own to him always, if he wanted to theorize. “You’d make a wonderful criminal, if you weren’t so concerned with looking more trustworthy than you are.”

Scar kissed his cheek in return, shifting his position slightly under him. “Maybe in our next world I’ll show you what I learned before I stumbled onto Hermitcraft,” he answered. “For now… shall we get those wounds of yours cleaned up?”

“Maybe,” Grian replied. “They don’t stain, they’re just a mark of magic, I think. My back’s a whole lot worse, I actually got hit there, ha…” He trailed off, just in time for Scar to sit up a little more and force him to do the same.

When he met his lover’s eyes, it was to find them green as copper, as focused and as firm as the metal implied. “Shirt, off, now.” His voice was even and measured, but stubborn: there would be no argument to this. A wave of warmth swept through him and he nodded, pulling off his undershirt without a word of protest. Scar didn’t use that tone with him often, and when he did, it was almost always in his best interests to listen. (It was not, of course, in his best interest to listen when Scar was sure he wasn’t going to get hurt. He always was. That was why Grian had gone to the mansion in the first place, after all. That was why he'd taken him to a world he'd shed his mortality to escape. Only if Scar knew the danger could he have understood what he was up against.)

(He might never have sat down and totaled the sum price of keeping his lover safe, decided whether or not it was worth it to keep paying. He never had to. He only chose and chose again, and never regretted the charges.)

Scar made a hissing noise of sharp disapproval when he saw the extent of Grian’s scars visible from the front, and promptly tugged on his hips to imply he needed to turn around. He acquiesced to this; after all Scar was the one who knew first aid better than anyone else he’d ever known, and for good reason. Scar’s hiss of disapproval turned sharply into a deep inhale, and not a word.

“It doesn’t hurt or restrict my mobility, if that helps,” Grian remarked, voice light and easygoing. He could feel his lover’s disapproval and concern in his collarbone, steady-pulsing, fiery magic suddenly electrified with worry. He never had to ask how his lover was feeling, not unless he wanted to keep their cover, and if none else were around, he would never have to. Joel had figured out they were lovers, but he didn’t know how deep their bond was.

To wed a Watcher is no task for the faint of heart, and such bindings sink deep enough to hit bone and keep sinking. To wed a sorcerer was almost, if not quite, an equally difficult task. The quest to get to their wedding with no witnesses but the Watchers was substantially harder than either one. Such things cost, and cost dearly.

“I would offer to seal the wound, but I think all I could manage would be an illusion to hide it,” Scar said uneasily, almost to himself. “This isn’t your magic, and it’s too thick for mine to penetrate. It isn't… It's not life-threatening. It's a reminder. It'll stay."

Grian turned his head to look back at his lover. "What d'you mean, it'll stay?"

Scar looked up from Grian's back and tapped the claw marks across his cheek with one finger. "Most wounds don't stay with you once you're on the packet-train." His eyes, green as copper, green as a forest, green as Pizza's saddle, hardened. He had come from somewhere, before Grian had all but fallen into Hermitcraft and met him. Xisuma never asked where any of them had come from when they showed up to stay. He'd never had to, and when Scar sliced through joviality to something blunter, harder; it was impossible to not think that he had earned every scrap of every wound across his skin. "Some stay. They fade a bit after a while, but if they change us… they stay."

Scar's palms were significantly lighter than the back of his hands. He didn't have much feeling in them, thus his inability to remember to use gloves. His magic had burned more than just a world. A wave of guilt swept through him. Grian's actions had cost Scar his hands, once, and now he bled green, and Scar couldn't fix it. He looked away again, turning his head to his own hands. "Is it… is it like Scott's crown?"

"Something like that." He felt Scar lean over and slip his arms around his ribs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade just above the wing. He leaned back into him, closing his eyes. He hadn't meant for either one of them to get hurt. "I appreciate it, you know." Another kiss, this time to his neck. "I think it'll be nice to match, although matching any more and I might just have to try that water-bucket trick and show you how it feels."

His magic, all fire and copper and lavender, flared in Grian's collarbone. He might not know how his emotions affected his lover, but he knew perfectly well how his lover's emotions affected his own. He sighed, somewhat dramatically. "Well, good thing you're worth the effort."

Scar laughed, and it was bells on the wind, music echoing off the ground of a glassy wasteland. Grian slipped his hands into his lover's, brushing his knuckle across the wedding ring nobody could see unless Scar wanted them to. His own chimed against it.

He'd taken him to a civilized world somehow still standing, once, when the night had been a little too long and the shadows a little too deep for either one of them. A world he'd once gone to the Watchers to escape, and they had made a marionette of him for a while, until he'd snapped their strings and run farther. They'd held to each other's hands as they walked through the streets, Grian pointing out old wounds in the architecture and Scar noting the hidden places where law enforcement wouldn't go.

A man, halfway to a hare, somewhere between their ages had left one of the better-built structures and seen them down the street. He held his hand aloft, as if to say hello. As if to say he recognized them. Grian had stopped dead, frozen where he was. Scar had studied the man for a moment, as he came walking over to them.

"That's him, isn't it?" he'd asked, and his voice had been level, and neutral, and harder than bedrock.

"That's him," Grian had answered, his own as thin and invisible as a single glass pane.

"I thought so. Stay here a moment, will you?" He'd let go of his hand and strode forward, shoulders square, redstone socks holding him upright.

Grian had felt his magic rise before he saw it. But he'd seen Scar's hand, dark as tanned oak on both sides, plunge through the man's chest with no more regard for the flesh in his way than it would for a curtain of jungle vines. He'd seen the splatter of blood stain his lover's face.

He didn't hear what Scar said to the man, as his lips - his pretty lips, the ones best worth kissing - moved. Even now, in his lover's arms with a gash bleeding green light down his spine, he wanted to believe it was a spell's incantation. Even now, he knew that Scar was far too powerful to actually need it. The fire in his lover's chest burst from him. It flared like a shockwave outward. The builds around them turned to smoke upon contact, his clothing the same. He'd shut his eyes and hoped, desperately, that Scar knew what he was doing.

The city around them had gone silent. He'd opened one eye, and then the other, blinking when he saw the black lace veil, long enough to brush his chin. Somehow, the fire had transformed him, had transformed everything against the golden light of the dawn, shimmering against the smoke. He'd squinted through the veil against the shine of the ground, no longer asphalt, no longer a city at all.

Sand melted to glass and dirt melted to obsidian, and that was all that had been left beneath the smoke, an artful array of shimmer and black. Just like the velvet suit he wore, just like the veil. The smoke had cleared with the wind, slow but present, until beyond it he could see his lover, sitting a few feet away, dressed equally in black and red to match.

His hands were soaked in red, oak to cherrywood and when he had turned his torso to smile at him, it was with a dazed expression. The scent of coppery blood had wafted to him, and Grian had found he could run after all.

"Scar!"

He had knelt at his lover's side, sliding half a foot with his momentum until he was kneeling in front of him, reaching for the red that was his hands. Scar, still smiling, held up the bloody mass that some part of his mind registered as a human heart. "Hey, you," he murmured. Grian had stared, before taking the heart out of his hands, placing it aside before reaching for his hands. They had been soaked in blood, and not all of it was that man's, whose name he would never again speak.

"Let me heal you," he'd said, and Scar had nodded and acquiesced, and Grian's magic had flooded between them, briefly penetrating the thick haze of Scar's magic, still burning what was left of the wasteland.

Scar had lifted pale palms from Grian's touch a moment later, had picked up the heart, and held it out again to him. "Will you marry me?"

Grian had stared at him. They had sat together in the ruins of a semi-thriving world, and he had been able to tell Scar's magic levels were low enough, and the world's magic levels were low enough, that there might not be a respawn waiting for him. He had looked down, briefly, to Scar's hands and the only remains of the man who he'd shed his mortality to escape.

"Right here, and right now…?" His voice was thin, but existed, and that was more than he'd ever expected. The world that plagued his nightmares was gone, and that was a daydream far beyond any reality. His laugh had been quick, and brittle, and honest. "Nobody ever has to know who we are again. We can be just what we say we are. Yes. Yes, I will."

Scar had reached for him, then, and Grian had pushed their twin veils out of the way, and kissed him.

Grian shifted and sat up, blinking away heavy sleep. Scar was still on his back beside him, dead to the world and fiery magic in Grian's collarbone down to a low simmer of dreaming something peaceful. He lifted his left hand, allowing his magic to fall away, studying his wedding band. It was simple, brass with a copper inlay and a carved peridot stone. Scar's, he knew, was almost identical, with an amber inlay instead of copper.

He hated the nightmares, much as they had become more fleeting over the years since their wedding. At some point, they would have to inform the others of the ceremony, if only because their decade's anniversary was likely to fall near the end of the next Hermitcraft season. He hoped the moon wouldn't ruin it. Once was more than enough.

He sighed and leaned up to stretch, ignoring the slight jolt of protest from his bandaged back. Scar had done wonders for him, even if he probably shouldn't have been using magic this soon after his adventures to another world. He'd sleep it off, and Grian knew enough about making soup to not be worried about him - at least, no more than usual.

The night in Scar's gorge was quiet enough, even with the distant, echoing roar of the river. He shifted back over, settling back into his position between his husband's legs and his face firmly in his sternum. "What am I going to do with you, Scar…?" he murmured, softly.

The answer to that was of course, obvious. Stay married to him another eight years, and another eight after that. And when Scar was ready to tell him where he came from, and how he got his name… find out if godhood was synonymous with destruction in the name of love.

#hermitcraft #100 hours smp #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #scarian #desert duo #if I'm missing tags lmk lmao I don't fuckin know #tumblr don't fuck with my formatting Pls....#ls.rtf

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nighthaikyuu · 3 years

Note

could you do the “kissing my best-friend” tiktok trend with bokuto, kuroo and oikawa! thank you hehe

— synopsis: haikyuu boys x y/n; kissing their best-friend after watching the trend thats been taking over tiktok.

— characters included: bokuto, kuroo, oikawa

— genre: fluff!!

— authors note: this is so overdue I apologize!!

bokuto

if bokuto was glad about anything, it was the fact that you had never downloaded tiktok.

if you had, the second he’d plop his phone against the tv stand and let the song electric love fill the room, you would’ve narrowed your eyes at him and beat him to death.

at least, that’s what he thought.

your bottom lip was rolled beneath your teeth as you stared at the screen in utter concentration, your fingers moving faster than ever as you finally let out a triumphant grin.

turning to look at bokuto, you teased, “told you I was going to win that round.”

usually, bokuto would counter back with a snarky response but this time, he simply shook his head and averted your gaze, his eyes falling back onto the phone for the nth time.

“what are you recording?” you finally asked, your eyes trailing to the phone.

“nothing! just a tiktok!” bokuto squeaked, before chuckling nervously.

you raised a brow at that but as you watched him flash you a wide smile, you simply shrugged and turned your attention back to the tv screen, ready to start the second round.

just then, as the beat drop came closer and closer, and bokuto’s palm became increasingly sweaty, you suddenly felt yourself being tugged towards the boy beside you.

eyes widening at the sudden movement, you turned to bokuto, his name halfway on your lips when you suddenly felt his nose brush yours, his lips dangerously close.

“bo—“ you started when soft lips grazed over your own, effectively shutting you up in an instant.

you spent the next few seconds short-circuiting but then you felt bokuto’s grip on your waist tighten, and you melted, dropping the game console on your lap as your hands laid against his chest, gripping his sweatshirt tightly in your hands.

pulling away after what was either a couple of seconds or several minutes, bokuto rested his forehead against yours, his hot breath fanning your face as you heard him chuckle softly, “didn’t expect this to go that well.”

slapping his chest lightly, you tried to scowl in annoyance yet the small smile that wouldn’t leave your face betrayed you.

“you’re such an idiot”

kuroo

you were going to kill your friends.

nervously pacing your room, you were looking for a place to put your phone when you heard kuroo chuckle from behind you, “you’ve been walking around your room like it’s a strangers. you good?”

jumping slightly, you turned around and gave him a nervous smile, “aha, yea completely fine! just finding a place to put my phone to record-um—something.”

raising a brow, kuroo looked at you skeptically before turning his attention back to his book.

cursing yourself inwardly, you scolded yourself for choosing dare last night. you should’ve known your friends would’ve done something like this.

nearly all of them knew of your fat crush on your best-friend kuroo and the fact that you wouldn’t do anything about it bothered them to no end; but they weren't you. they didn’t know how absolutely terrifying it is to confess to your best-friend. there was just so much that could go wrong.

yet here you were.

after they dared you to do this tiktok with him, and threatening that if you didn’t they would tell him themselves, you found that you had no other choice but to just do it. after all, if this all went absolutely miserable, you could just tell him you got dared to and end of story. at least you desperately hoped.

finally, setting the phone on top of your dresser table, you opened the app with shaky hands and pressing the song electric love and setting the time to 60 seconds.

the fact that in the next minute or so, your entire life was going to literally turn upside down was enough for you feel like you were going to throw up.

taking in a shaky breath, you told yourself you have to do this y/n, you can't back out. slipping your AirPods into your ears, you pressed the record button and turned around to face kuroo, who had been staring at the book in his hand, a concentrated look on his face.

you knew there was still a decent bit of the song left before the drop would happen, the moment in which you were supposed to kiss the boy in front of you.

shaking your hands, you slowly started making your way towards him. in no time, you stood by the side of the bed at which he was sitting at and by now, his attention was on you.

“you look constipated.” he noted.

“s-shut up!”

hearing the song in your ears near the beat drop, every note began to drum through your blood; a sudden adrenaline rush ran through your veins when you bent down and removed the book from his hands.

“hey, I was reading that dumbass!”

ignoring him, you sat down beside him so that your back was facing the camera but you were facing kuroo.

as the song heightened, you swallowed roughly as you could feel your heart race in alignment; before you could back out, you grabbed kuroo’s shirt and pulled him flush against you, pressing your lips tightly against his.

the second you felt kuroo stiffen against you, every single fear you had came crashing down. starting to pull away, an apology resting at the tip of your tongue, you suddenly felt him lean into you, his lips moving against yours softly.

his hands that had been at his side came up to grip your waist tightly, the touch sending a jolt through your body. drawing back slowly, kuroo rested his forehead against yours as he stared at you with half-lidded eyes, his cheeks flushed red.

“holy shit y/n...” he whispered against your lips, a small smile appearing on his lips, “d-did you mean that?”

you nodded almost immediately, a rush of relief flooding your body as you realized he kissed you back, kuroo freaking kissed you back.

kuroo’s smile widened even further. leaning back in, he pressed another soft kiss on your lips, “I’ve been waiting for this day forever.”

oikawa

while maki and mattsun were arguing over something in the back as iwaizumi stared outside the window in annoyance, you sat in the passenger seat beside oikawa as the two of you scrolled through tiktoks together on your phone.

stumbling upon the ever famous best-friend challenge, you watched the tiktok with a soft smile on your face. you waited in anticipation for the beat to drop and as soon as it did, the guy leaned towards his girl best friend and pulled her towards him, a hint of permission in his eyes before he pressed his lips tightly against hers.

“that’s literally so staged.” oikawa snorted beside you.

rolling your eyes, you replied with a huff, “yea I bet the thousands of people who did this trend all had it staged, I’m sure.”

crossing your arms together against your chest, you added, “It’s your fault you have 0 ounce of romance in you Tooru.”

smirking, oikawa tilted his head so that his face was just inches away from yours, your cheeks suddenly flushing at the reduced proximity.

“is that so?” he grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

before you could question it, he took your phone from you before quickly pressing the song and clicking the record button, setting it down in front of him.

as the song began to blast through the car, the boys in the back froze as the all-too-familiar tune.

“oh hell no.” iwaizumi murmured before quickly opening the door and stepping outside, not willing to be a part of any of that. the other two quickly got the hint as well, falling in suit and before you knew it, the only two people in the car were you and Oikawa.

while the boys had scrambled out the moment the song came on, you on the other hand went still in shock, unaware of what was actually happening and what Oikawa was even thinking.

“wait, why’d they all leave? why’d you turn that on—oh.”

feeling a pair of rough and calloused hands cup your face, you were suddenly pulled towards the driver’s seat, lips brushing against yours. before you could say, or do, anything else, oikawa enveloped your lips with his, kissing you softly.

eyes fluttering to a close, you leaned into the kiss, every single thought in your head flying out the window when all you could see, feel, taste, smell and hear was oikawa.

pulling away after what seemed like an eternity, oikawa turned back to the phone and pressed the stop recording button.

“i—what j-just—?” you sputtered as everything came crashing down when oikawa flashed you a smug grin, “now, am I still not romantic?”

blinking, you slowly took in his words before a sudden realization dawned upon you, that douchebag.

starting with a hit to the shoulder, you flung yourself towards him before bombarding him with several punches, words like you asshole! and that was my first kiss you fucker! spilled from your mouth as oikawa laughed beneath you, trying to wrestle you away from him, “ay, don’t hurt this handsome face. my fan club won’t be very happy with you.”

watching the both of you from outside the car, maki and mattsun were both laughing so hard they started to wheeze while iwaizumi beside them just had an amused look on his face.

you probably thought oikawa was messing with you, but iwaizumi knew oikawa meant every single second of it.

general taglist: @cinnamonrusts @postsfromthe6 @lady-snavely @02hhsailor @killuaking @rae0fsunshine1317 @sugawaaras @voids-universe @yams046 @visaintes @simpforsaeko @honeybacon @kuroosbabie @verblueht @captain-janeway

character-specific taglist: @mkkhaikyuu @bluelightningxiii @ushiwakasvball

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto hq #haikyuu bokuto #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa tooru x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader

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wincore · 4 years

Text

vixen | nakamoto yuta

pairing: kitsune!yuta x female!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: every year, you visit the fox who claims to know everything about you.

genre: fantasy/folklore, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: suggestive, mention of past bullying, one excessively flirty nakamoto yuta

song rec(s): clear and sunny - sou (cover)

a/n: this is for all you furries who aren’t quite furries yet muah (im joking) but aaaa love exploring folklore and also i should put in a disclaimer that not every aspect adheres to the original tales of the kitsune <3 i did not proofread btw and i am very sorry

Some things never change.

Examples: boys, shitty friends, death, and the scent of nostalgia. To you, that very scent happens to be the earthy smell of chrysanthemums and a faint waft of spices from the kitchen in your parents’ house. To you, October is not just another month. To you, there is one more thing that never changes and it is not your belief in old ghost stories.

Around this time of the year, the autumn festival begins in a flurry of vibrant red smudges and a whiff of excitement, in streets suddenly brought alive. The skies are candied orange, and it’s the only time you aren’t tired of home. This time is also when you find yourself right in the clutches of the one demon you swore you’d avoid for the rest of your life. You swore. It’s not your fault that said demon is a little, let’s say, tempting.

Tempting in the most vexing, infuriating way possible. Bewitching, cruel, seducing—all that foxes are and all that you’ve heard of them could not have prepared you for an encounter. Folklore runs deep through you. The memories of a certain fox-boy run deeper.

It is not the festival you are here for.

You yawn, leaning against the wooden door frame of the shop. It would be inappropriate to fall asleep on the job, especially since there are a bunch of children staring idly at you. You close your mouth quickly, resting the back of your hand against your lips. Late afternoon is an easy time to fall asleep. You have half the mind to snarl at the kids to scare them off, their gaze getting on your nerves and when you think you will, you turn the other way. Manners come first to you, no matter how temperamental you get.

The procession has gathered a crowd. Some shouts and squeals from the children make you slump further. At least they’re having fun with whatever stupid game they’re playing. You breathe in the autumn air. A part of you wonders if you simply let your feet lead you down the stairs, you’d be free of this entire ordeal. You shake your head. Temptation has always been hard to resist—never meant to be resisted but you’re much older now. There is dignity to be answered.

October is mild—your grandmother’s shop is still on the verge of collapse, your mother still yells at you for misplacing kitchen utensils and your old friends from school still gossip about who you’re dating. It’s like the script never changes; people change the meaning, twist their words in the same old pattern. If you were a little less behaved, you would have poured your drink over their heads yesterday.

You clench your jaw. It’s always an ‘Oh, you’re so attractive’ and an ‘I wish I could date as many men as you do but I’m loyal to my boyfriend’, or even a ‘Must be nice being surrounded by boys all the time’. You know what they mean. It’s not the first time you’ve been called a fox, and you don’t think it’ll be the last—at least until you decide to stop letting your hometown suffocate you. Maybe you’ll accept what they say. You have heard of what hatred left unchecked can do.

If you’re honest, you haven’t been with too many men. If you’re a little more honest, none of them have ever made your heart race.

You watch the children play with a keen eye, their painted masks ridiculously large for their faces and in brightly coloured clothes contrasting well with the town. You might not be allowed to fall asleep, but there’s nothing against closing your eyes for a second or two.

The image of glinting yellow eyes and a fanged smile pop up and you quickly open your eyes. You don’t know why your heart beats so loud at the mere thought of him, thoughts in which his lips are full and painted red, and his bright smile is stretched upon them. Sometimes, the thought of him is in gentle washes, his hand fixing your hair, or a flirty smile when you dare stumble upon him on a particularly sleepless night. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. That is not love. Some sort of embarrassing attraction, maybe. However, the friendship you have is worse.

“I see you’re a slacker as always.”

Your grandmother’s voice breaks you out of your cycle of thoughts and you’re almost grateful.

“I sold approximately zero sweets,” you snort. “Why can’t we just do away with the shop?”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother,” your grandma calls from behind one of the counters, distaste ringing clear in her voice.

You sigh. “Fine, but… you work way too hard to make these for them to not sell.”

“Maybe they would sell if a certain little lady would stay and help.”

You groan, leaning your head back. “You know I have work in the city.”

Your grandmother waves her hand about, dismissing your reasoning. She fiddles around in the shadows for a bit before coming forward with more boxes than she should be able to hold.

“You don’t have to feel too guilty. Yuta’s been helping out,” your grandmother informs fondly. “You could learn a thing or two from him.”

You’re not the superstitious sort and yet still, your heart beats faster. For him, or for the bad omens foxes bring to a household—you don’t know.

You scoff instead. “He’s not as great a guy as you think, grandma. He can be really mean too!”

“Oh, I doubt that. Have you seen his smile? Impossible.” Your grandmother waves it off before drawing nearer, voice hushed without reason. “Have you thought about it then? He is handsome, isn’t he?”

“Grandma.”

You’re not sure what old women go through in their youth that makes them something of a matchmaker in their later years. You think the whole ordeal is messed up. There is no way you’re going to stick your nose into your grandchildren’s love life; it’s gross.

“These should be enough for the children, no?” Your grandmother asks and you look up.

“You’re giving them away for free?” you question, furrowing your eyebrows. “And you talk about bad business.”

She places her hand on her hip, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’re going to lecture your grandmother?”

You raise your hands up in defeat, standing up to help her with the red boxes of acorn candy and paper wraps of roasted chestnuts. You end up with the entire load in your arms, your grandmother happily shuffling about as she locks up the store.

You turn sharply at the surprised sound behind you. The evening has settled in and glowing lanterns bring forward the evidence, the darkening streets flooding with round droplets of light.

But it is not the festival you are looking at.

Yuta looks somewhat serene, your cheeks heating up despite yourself. You look at him with bated breath, hoping the boxes obscure your face enough to make the vaguely positive emotions less evident. The dark red jacket draped over his shoulder does not look out of place—in fact, he fits in so well you would’ve mistaken him for another face in the crowd if he weren’t stupidly gorgeous. He looks at you with no strong emotion in the eyes before breaking into a smile; and when his hand strokes the top of your head as a greeting, he seems fond. He always does.

“Grandma,” he calls with his best smile, turning to the old woman.

Your grandmother doesn’t need any more convincing of his character.

“Oh, there you are! Did I tell you (name)’s back? I wanted to break the news to you earlier. Ah…I must have forgotten.”

You glance from Yuta to her. Is this another one of her tricks and tests?

“She’s always here this time of the year,” he responds, laughing politely.

“Ah, you remembered,” she says, eyes crescent as she smiles back. “Help her with the boxes. The city has made her so frail.”

“I’m good,” you choke on the words, hurriedly moving away and almost dropping one of the boxes.

You slip on your sandals and scurry off faster, wishing he’d just stay behind. He always has. The air makes you shiver but you’re adamant; and it’s not the only trait of yours to make relationships fail.

“You know, you should be nicer to old friends.”

You try not to react when Yuta takes the boxes from you, matching your pace almost effortlessly.

“I thought foxes ran away once they’re found out,” you snap, reluctantly letting him take the packages.

Yuta rolls his eyes. “I see you still aren’t very fond of me.”

“Not when you’re tricking my grandmother like this,” you hiss.

“You call helping trickery?” he retaliates.

“Foxes bring bad business,” you mutter.

“I’m the reason your grandmother’s business is somewhat above the water.”

You sigh, exasperated. There’s no point in wasting your breath. You look away, crossing your arms as you walk, the silence between the two of you suddenly awkward. Even so, you’re not going to open your mouth for him.

“Would you two slow down?” your grandmother calls, voice weary. “We’re already there.”

The two of you halt in your tracks immediately, taking mellow steps back to her. She looks over the two of you with furrowed eyebrows and you try to think of an explanation when she starts laughing.

“Oh, I don’t mind the two of you flirting,” she says, littered with slow laughter. “Just make sure the food is where it’s supposed to be.”

You’re about to refute when Yuta laughs, the sound still boyish and lively. “Of course. (name) missed me so much this year, she couldn’t help herself.”

You give him a pointed look which he ignores, deliberately or not. “We- I wasn’t—”

“Grandmother, if you’ll give us permission,” he interrupts, settling the packages on the table by the food stall and smiling wide. “We’ll go enjoy the festival now.”

She bobs her head in affirmation and Yuta grabs your hand to pull you into the bustling street, your silent plea for help ignored by your smug grandmother.

“What are you doing?” you ask, slipping your hand from his. “You aren’t- You aren’t trying to eat my liver, are you?”

“Why the liver? Can’t I have the rest of you too?”

It’s not like you were particularly alarmed but his response makes you feel a flush of embarrassment.

“It’s been a year since I last saw you,” he says before his voice turns a shade cooler. “Have you thought about my proposal?”

You fall silent. The overthinking started last year too. Your thoughts and dreams, so easily pervaded by him and all it took was one sentence.

“We should get married.”

“Why did you even think I’d agree to that?” You try not to get too flustered. He knows all your petty weaknesses and you’d rather not have them on display for him to stare and pick at. “What the fuck would I get out of marrying you?”

Yuta whistles. “I like your tongue. But—yes, to answer your question, you’d get a very handsome and capable husband. Your bed will always be warm and oh, speaking of beds—”

You clamp your hand over his mouth at the suggestive look he sends, worried about being spotted by one of your school friends. Ah, right—friends, the very same people that smell of jealousy and won’t miss any opportunity to throw a jab your way. Friends. You can’t believe you’re still afraid of their judgement.

“And why do you want to get married to me?” you ask, looking into his eyes.

There’s a pause, filled with the chatter of the crowd.

“You look like you’re afraid of finding someone,” he speaks finally, ignoring your question. “Or is it the other way around?”

You roll your eyes, ready to walk off when he grabs your wrist to pull you closer to his chest. It draws some looks from nearby people, your eyes darting from face to face in fear. You take a deep breath and look at Yuta again, almond eyes distracting.

“People will think we’re lovers,” you whisper, almost a hiss.

“What’s wrong with that?”

You breathe out in disbelief. “You’re really something.”

“What? Why did you always come to meet me then? Behind the keyaki tree?”

“It wasn’t for you,” you lie quickly. “I had nothing better to do.”

Pining after a fox? You could never have feelings for him. Even so, your answer comes off childish and silly, and somehow he’s the only one to be able to draw that side of you—the you that is messy and unprepared.

Yuta smiles in return. “You think people can’t fall in love with us the same way they fall in love with most everything.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“How conservative of you,” he leaves with an airy remark, but not before urging you to follow him.

The sizzling sound of food being fried and the knocking, clicking sound of children playing games, all these forgotten sounds grow louder and for a second, if only you let yourself, you could close your eyes and it would be just like your first date.

No. It’s different. You look up, eyes trailing over Yuta’s back, his golden hair, how his figure moves with ease and confidence.

It is different.

You raise an eyebrow at the box of takoyaki Yuta shoves towards you, an expecting look across his face.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice.

You hum in response, taking the box from him and saving yourself the trouble of asking whether he paid for it or simply charmed his way through.

“Eh, no thank you?” he complains. “How polite.”

You scrunch your nose to accompany an exaggerated smile and he laughs, the two of wandering over the asphalt streets. Your hands are close enough to brush—and if a twenty-something year-old woman can feel jittery because of it, hands truly are meant to share warmth. The smell of candy and caramel fills the air, making you smile. You’ve saved enough for the taste of home, you think.

The taste of home.

Inevitably, the thought of kissing your companion crosses your mind and you stop in your tracks. Whatever. It must be natural when someone as attractive is beside you. Those aren’t feelings. You curse yourself for feeling like a teenager again.

The festival grounds aren’t as shabby as you expect them to be. The city,—if you could call this one—stops here and the earth spreads out to the forest behind. The crowd also thins, and you take a fresh breath. They’re selling old books in the corner, but no one seems to be there.

“The raccoon dogs,” Yuta whispers in your ear, with an arcane smile. “Want to visit those rascals?”

You roll your eyes. He knows you’ve heard one too many folktales for a lifetime, seen one too many. It’s time to go home, especially now that the thought of thanking him crosses your mind. You’re about to turn when your shoulder crashes into someone else’s. A surprised, syrupy smile greets you, which you cannot return for the first few moments. Yui’s smile wavers and you flash her a quick smile. A friend. Her arm is looped through her lover’s, the one she never shuts up about and suddenly the urge to pour water over her head returns.

Yuta glances from you to her before pressing his lips together, as if suppressing laughter. You’re almost offended when Yui laughs flippantly.

“You’re on a date too? I knew you couldn’t stand spending the festival alone,” she says, tugging her lover closer.

People have always told you who you are and what you do. As if they know better.

You smile awkwardly. “It’s… actually not—”

“Oh, don’t be shy.” She gently pats your shoulder before leaning in. “He’s a real catch. As expected from you. You can never leave the boys alone.”

You know what she really means. You’ve heard the same words in high school when she was shoving you into a wall behind the school. The sickening smile is still on her face.

You gulp, feeling sixteen again. The lack of people around somehow makes it more awkward and you’re about to excuse yourself when suddenly, Yuta bumps into Yui and his warm drink spills over her left shoulder. Your eyes widen, more in confusion. When did he leave? You don’t doubt his ability to sneak past people, but surely you couldn’t have been so enraptured in your own feelings that you barely noticed.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuta says, voice honeyed with surprise.

Yui looks like she’s about to explode when she looks at him, her expression dropping to a calmer one almost immediately.

It’s an easy look to recognize. They always have it when they first meet Yuta, whether it’s the smile that’s too dazzling or the pretty round eyes.

How persuasive, those eyes.

“Ah… I must have not seen you,” she says faintly, and Yuta’s smile widens.

Before he can stir up more trouble, you slip your arm into his and pull him away, not caring for another polite apology to an old, almost nameless face.

“I was having fun,” Yuta complains, voice still smug and calm.

You glare at him and it only seems to add fuel to the fire, to whatever cold fire dances at his fingertips.

“You’re happy, right? Don’t look at me like that. You should reward me.”

You don’t respond, looking away and hoping to get at least a word in about how troublesome he is every single time you visit. Yuta has other plans, however. Leaning his head to look you in the eye, he maintains a distance which looks perfectly decent but feels less than so.

“How about a kiss? I deserve one, don’t I?” He moves his head closer to yours, making you shy away.

You grab him by the belt and pretend to not catch a glimpse of the pleased look on his face as you drag him into a secluded part by the forest.

It’s quieter here, so much that you can almost hear your own heart drumming in your chest, and the faint light of the distant festival grounds doesn’t help much at all. It’s dark as dusk, and you can only make out Yuta’s jawline and a faint smirk over his lips. You think that if a fox ever wanted to eat your liver, this would be the perfect spot.

“You did something,” you finally utter the words. “You did something to me.”

“Why do you think I did something? Do you mean love?” he responds with a cheeky smile. “This means you’ve been thinking about me? How cute—”

“Yuta, stop it,” you warn.

“Or what? You should stop me yourself.”

You grab the lapels of his jacket, the cloth bunching as your knuckles turn white. The anger you feel isn’t the first of its kind—it’s just a little funny how it’s always Yuta every time, making you remember the burning feeling time and time again. You find yourself unable to respond.

“Oh, don’t hold back,” he provokes, leaning in.

You push at his chest in exasperation, but he grabs your wrists before you can retract your hands.

“Scared?” he whispers.

You pull apart anyway, a scowl over your lips. “You’re as annoying as ever. Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Ooh! Sharp claws. You’d be lovely as my fox-bride.” he teases.

Your face flares with heat. “I’m not your… I’m not a fox.”

“I didn’t say a fox, I said—”

“I know what you said,” you snap, massaging your wrist so you don’t have to look at him.

Yuta falls quiet for a moment, voice lower when he speaks again.

“Is it so nasty to be called a fox? There are worse things, you know.”

You scoff, growing increasingly annoyed. “Of course you’d say that. I hate it. I hate this town. I hate foxes and I hate you.”

Yuta places a hand over his chest, gasping with no emotion. Your eyes linger over his long, painted nails a little longer before you meet his eyes. A part of you regrets saying the words but you couldn’t help it. The shroud choking your hometown makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs every time you’re here. You hate this place.

But you don’t hate him, after all.

You try to clear yourself of the thought. A gentle gust of wind brings you back to the present, Yuta still glancing at you with no giveaway to what he’s feeling.

“You wouldn’t make a terrible fox though,” he says, eyes sharp. “Don’t they know you’re a vixen already? How many livers will you eat?”

You suck in a breath, tears stinging at your eyes. However, it’s not like you to get so easily affected by him. No. No, somehow that doesn’t make sense either. Those words do hurt from Yuta and you’re not sure if it’s just because he's the only one you didn’t expect them from.

“You…”

“What? Aren’t you going to lash at me again? You’re so predictable.”

His voice is calm despite your obvious annoyance and you feel flames lick at your heart. Your hand moves before you can think, about to meet his cheek when he grabs your wrist. You struggle, trying to pull free but to no avail and you use the other hand to hit him in the chest. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t bother him and that same feline smile curves up his lips.

You feel something you haven’t before, a warm growl at the pit of your stomach.

You push with all your strength, catching Yuta off guard and he stumbles backward but not before pulling you into him. Consequently, either of you lose footing and land on the grass with a sudden thud, Yuta’s side pressed against yours. His hands still clutch your wrist, and he shifts to hover over you.

“We used to wrestle like this as a litter,” he says, erupting into full laughter. “Ah, memories. I don’t even know if they’re alive or dead now.”

Yuta is much stronger than he looks, and he’s taken your tantrum as a source of amusement much to your infuriation. He has your hands pinned back, eyes unaffected as he scans over your face. You try to shift but there’s just too much weight on you. You breathe slowly, chest rising and falling in time with his. His earrings sway gently in the wind, dangling a few inches above you—he’s pretty, so pretty. Admitting defeat has never been your forte but now that your senses are gathering again, you feel a flush of embarrassment for losing your temper.

Or perhaps, it is something else when you register the lack of distance between your noses.

“Playtime’s over,” Yuta coos. “You’re kinda cute when you’re losing.”

He tilts his head, an adoring smile over his lips. For a moment, they’re all you see.

Can a fox comfort you? Can a fox make you feel loved on the darkest of nights? Your mind races with questions your heart does not want to answer.

Yuta leans in to close the distance and despite every nerve in your body, you turn your head away. You can hear him gulp, the following moments painfully quiet before he gets up. Your breath is soft and shallow, lying on the ground till you get enough courage to sit up.

You almost gasp. His tails are clearer under the dim moonlight, all nine of them golden and luxurious. The light hitting his face isn’t any less flattering and once again you are reminded of how handsome he is, fairytale or not.

Yuta looks uncomfortable, and that’s a first for you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know why.

He waves his hand dismissively, annoyed.

“Yuta,” you take a step forward.

“I see the way you look at me,” he says quietly, “Is it not want?”

You fall silent, biting your lip so you don’t retort violently. He doesn’t look particularly malicious when he says that but you do not want to give him the satisfaction of an answer yet.

He quietens for a moment before a look of curiosity flashes across his features.

“What is it then?” he asks. “Is it a secret? Foxes love secrets. Tell me.”

Despite every bone in your body burning up, you find it in yourself to laugh.

“I don’t think I could keep a secret from you if I tried,” you finally say, before bursting into soft laughter again.

Yuta looks at you puzzled, lips parted while he stands frozen as if he were a painting. A daunting, reckless, heavenly painting.

“It’s not want,” you answer quietly. “It’s more than that. Even if I hated it. I like you.”

Yuta’s ears perk up at your confession. “So- so you admit, then? You are interested?”

“I could blame you for this, you know?” You shrug, hugging yourself once the night starts to feel cold again. Yuta begins to take off his jacket when you stop him, gently pressing your palm against his chest.

“You’re a fox, after all,” you whisper. “Like me. What they think of me.”

Yuta purses his lips. “Does it really hurt you? No, wait. Did they- did they—”

“Now, you tell me,” you cut him off. “Why do you insist on getting married—to me?”

There’s a pause. The crickets chirp a merry tune despite the leisurely darkness of the night.

“You’re not terrible,” he says, nonchalantly.

You glare at him and he raises his hands in defeat. He looks wearier the more you look at him.

“I want to grow old,” he mumbles after a long pause. “Properly.”

You hold your breath.

“And you want to do it with me?”

Another flower blooms in your chest, as if he hasn’t planted a garden in there already. The lights from the festival flicker down, the lanterns burning brighter in the distance. He glances at them for a moment, your eyes still fixated on him.

The tails glow even brighter in the dark, as if gold in broad daylight. You’ve always been curious about him and his kind, all the stories; but he says he’s too old to remember if you ask.

You reach out to touch one of the tails, wondering if the fur is as warm as it looks. They’re pale and captivating, but they look so soft—they shouldn’t belong to an animal so vicious. Is he, though? Is he all that you think he is or have all these years failed you? If anything, he’s quite probably not as much a fox as you are, you think bitterly.

The fur is warm, but the realization is short-lived.

A short growl leaves the corner of his mouth. Yuta glares at you like he was stolen from and yet, you do not move your hand. Some part of you wants to aggravate him further.

“I’m not a pet,” he snaps. “Stop that.”

“You should stop me yourself,” you mimic his voice.

Yuta’s shoulders relax, and he looks down but you can still see the trembling smile on his face. It’s the way he looks at you, you think to yourself, maybe that's the reason after all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, feeling warmer than the autumn night should allow.

“Like what?” he asks, still smiling.

You look away.

“You’re not too fox-like, you know?” you mumble. “You’re just annoying. And flirty. And annoying.”

Yuta chuckles, before pressing his palm to the top of your head.

“And you’re lovely.”

You give in to the gesture of affection, leaning your head to press against his shoulder.

“Why do you even do all this? What do you get out of it?” you say, voice muffled. He hears you clearly, however.

“Because I love you,” he responds, as if coming to terms with it himself. “More than you think.”

There is no joke, no flirtation to his tone, no decoration upon his words. It’s plain, and laid bare. And sometimes, simplicity is scariest.

You pull back, lips pulled into a frown. The air is cold once more; the longing for warmth flowing into you. The silence is worse.

“You don't believe foxes can fall in love,” he states softly upon a wavering smile. “I knew that. Of course.”

A part of him believes it too.

“I…” you begin, and for the first time, you are afraid of promises in the name of love. You are the one making them now.

“I’ll believe you,” you whisper, “I’ll believe you so please… please take care of me.”

You place your palm against his cheek, his skin bewitchingly warm.

“Only if you take care of me,” he whispers back, leaning in.

This time, you do not move.

The lovers’ kiss you’d been searching for—lovers’ warmth, lovers’ comfort—all of it comes crashing down once Yuta tightens his arm around your waist, the other hand resting gently at the base of your neck. He kisses with the right amount of pressure, the vague taste of sweet berries in his mouth.

You used to fear his touch, like he would eat you whole; even if they have been gentle, always. This time, you might as well let him. He presses his lips from your cheek to jaw to neck, lingering at each spot enough to make you clutch at his shirt tighter, taking in short gasps of breath. You kiss for a little longer, like time means nothing.

“We should go back,” you whisper, pulling apart.

Yuta kisses you again, the distance unacceptable.

“Yuta—”

He kisses you once more, your calls falling on deaf ears.

Finally, after another long kiss, he pulls apart enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“It must have been hard for you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you scoff.

“Foxes are faithful lovers, you know?” he insists.

You laugh. “What do you mean?”

“It means I’ll follow you everywhere.”

He stands up straight, his thumb stroking your cheek as he bites back a smile.

“I don’t think we should get back tonight,” he suggests all of a sudden. “We could book a hotel. That’s the place you use these days, right? I’m sure your grandmother will understand your absence—”

You groan, resting your forehead against his shoulder and he presents a delighted laugh in return. It is warm by his side; he is warm. You find it easy to forget the failures in love, the loneliness of a lover that isn’t meant to be yours. Folktales are just long tales, after all. You smile to yourself.

You should’ve known—it was the fox all along.

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macabrecabra · 2 years

Text

I’m alive! Just the art I’m finishing can’t be shown juuust yet! Have to keep it a surprise! I have 16 monsters/enemies to design, then one background to draw and maps to prep c:

Below the cut are future creative projects and tentative timelines!

Writing Projects

So writing has been slow but I have two goals this year:

Finish In Time This Too Shall Pass: it is only six chapters away from being done and the last act will be edited and one chapter posted a week on Saturday c:

Finish Coded Connections: original outline was lost so working to get story organized and outlined again properly!

Won’t start any new fics until these two are done and I see my mood for next big fic!

DnD Campaigns

Currently running my Saturday game but have four campaigns brewing I would like to DM in the future and art for current game!

A Journey Far Away: home brew : this one is my baby and is rather experimental but a huge focus on characters. It will be limited in terms of race, but will be far more open world. Working on planning art to finish before recruiting launch! Will be a Sunday game

Lovecraft university: home brew: a more dark humor campaign with a focus on puzzles and exploring than combat where players are university students trying to survive first semester at Miskatonic University. Working on script and assets. If game comes to fruition, it opens for recruitment in August!

Elements of the Broken God: more standard DnD campaign with focus on players being chosen during an attack on their school to take in part of a god and gain an element domain and work together to save kingdom. This one is in planning phase, probably a Saturday game after current one finishes.

Hellcyon Office Duty: honebrew: this entire campaign would be improv off basic idea of layers being Hellcyon demons working office jobs regarding insurance claims and just surving the job. Dark humor and silly, meant to be more stress relief and loose to just let players run wild with imagination. No day set, still just a concept!

Current Game: Faces of Oblivion: my Saturday game that revived my confidence in GMing! Currently working on art and maps for part two of three for the campaign c: having fun and getting faster with my art!

DIY Projects

Working on real life projects too! Plan on the following to finish before June:

Stain new banister for stairwell. Love working with stain! Just need a long weekend to finish this one!

Sew new curtains. Making my own blackout curtains once I feel confident on sewing machine.

Painting on Canvas, want to do some reproductions of impressionist painters for house

Prepare yard for planting in May. Gotta get ready for all the new plants!!!

Comics Ideas in Works

I have always wanted to make webcomics but never had confidence to do so and always getting suckered to do things for others… this year that changes and I’m going to more seriously pursue this dream. Not to make money or a career, just for fun and to get ideas out at last.

Goal is comics I make go out in a whole chapter to give readers lots of content in bursts like seasons of a show. This giving me breaks to more leisurely do pages in meantime. There are five comic ideas that are in the works!

Lovecraft Inspired Comic: currently unnamed Lovecraft comic. I’ve started doodling for it recently and getting looks down. Going to focus on more character are and concepting before getting my notes yogyto write the script proper. I’ll use the Lovecraft DnD game as means to explore and expand idea. This one would be a late 2023 release as it still in concepting phase!

Heaven on Earth: completely original world setting and characters. The story has been scripted and going through the editing phase to flesh out the outline. The world is also being stressed tested to make sure it is solid and works with story. It is about to enter preproduction of concept art and if that goes smoothly, I can see it ready to go by August!

Beyond the Storm: comic based on a dream I had and am forming up. Currently doing the world building to make sure the story has a coherent foundation for its lore. The story is roughly outlined and ready for edits. Needs more design work to get the look down so this one is a next year project unless things go smoothly!

Villainously Employed: a story taking place in sane world as Heaven on Earth with focus on “villains “ who are just doing a day job and one character sort of burnt out on it. Dark humor galore but some heavy themes. This one the script is a jumble of ideas to organize and characters need designs… but the work setting is rock solid. This one is on back burner development until Heaven is completed.

And last idea…Untitled revamped romance story:

this story… the most near and dear to me. It was actually a project made to support an ex-friend’s project. I had a full script, two chapters sketched, four pages rendered… and this ex-friend pulled some awful passive-aggressive attacks. Long story short, one year of emotional and mental manipulation later and months of making me feel like a mental patient and I was to blame for everything and should make seek their forgiveness… I cut ties. Noped out and honestly, 1000% better off without that toxic one-sided friendship.

But I was too hurt to continue on this project until now. I still want to tell the story. I still want to show these characters and see them in action. Do this story is revived. Currently rewriting the script entirely and finding it works much better… more solid work building, ability to now explore complex themes. Redesign characters so they don’t have to be “cute” to be appealing. So this one is a mess but it is moving forward as I reclaim it and bring it closer to reveal! Script is being hammered out, preproduction can tentatively start!

But those are all my projects! It is a lot but I like working on multiple projects and keeping my always buzzing brain busy c: I look forward to showing these projects off soon!

#maca speaks #my creative projects #I got many but I like being busy

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parkjess · 3 years

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Hi! Can I please request a lee dongmin imagine where they are best friends and y/n has love him but he doesn’t realize it and they fight. Please include lots of angst but a happy ending pleaseeee. Thank youuu so much!!

Thank you for requesting!🥰

(Min is a nickname for Dongmin🙃)

Days gone by/ Lee Dongmin (cha eunwoo)

It’s been days since you slept well, yet you can’t even blame him, only yourself.

You’ve been running from one press conference to another one, ending every day at the shooting set with your best friend, Dongmin, who works hard with even less hours of sleep than you get. He didn’t ask you to come, but you’ve been there because it’s important to you to support him all the way.

“Aren’t you tired y/n? It’s getting late. Should I get you an Uber?” He fixes your hair that got messy long time ago, you hold tightly onto the 5th cup of coffee today, and your heartbeats are getting out of control with every little touch of him.

-“No, it’s okay min, I’ll leave with you.” You reply and check your phone to avoid any contact with him since your eyes are half swollen from being tired and on your feet since 5am. It is 10pm now, and the director doesn’t look like he’s about to finish this shooting day soon.

“Don’t be stubborn, I can tell you’re sleepy, please don’t do it to yourself.” As much as it looked like he’s all into his career, his head was always busy about you, not showing it enough though. -“I’m not stubborn... okay I am. But I’m not even that tired. See? I’m drawing.” You show him your phone, it was bright enough to dazzle him and he covers his eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” He laughs unbelievably, “you never use the brightness this high. Y/n...” he calls your name softly at the end, pulling you to a bear hug.

“Eunwoo-ya!” The director suddenly calls his name, scaring both of you as he turns to him. -“Yes, director?” He replies politely as the older man starts to laugh. “You worked hard today, you may go home now.” Your eyes widen and you felt relieved at the director’s words, sighing.

-“it’s your lucky day.” Dongmin smiles at you and packs his things that we’re resting next to you the whole time.

Every day is my lucky day if I get to spend it with you. You thought.

You giggle and follow him to his car. The ride home was quiet, it was raining softly on the car window you stared at the whole time, almost falling asleep at the calming atmosphere.

Only his soft voice ringing in your ear and the sound of raindrops in the other.

-“It’s my free day tomorrow.” He says, waking you up from the daydream you fell into. -“Oh, I woke you up, sorry y/n...” he says and smiles widely, back to focus on the slippery road when you glance at him.

“It is?” You asked in surprise, it was good news since you could rest well finally, but you weren’t as relieved as you thought you would be, it means you won’t see him the whole weekend, and maybe next week too since he has to go to another city.

“I’m glad for you...” you think and then say, what could you else reply with? It’s a good thing, for both of you to rest, but it’s your feelings that won’t rest all this time, and you already know it.

He smiles at you when you look at him, his eyes are still on the road as they should be, and the short conversation is over.

“Dongmin...” you say when he pulls over the car in the parking lot the closest to your place. -“Yes?” He looks at you lovely, yet friendly. “Thanks for the ride, rest well...” that all you could say, but is that’s what you wanted to say? Absolutely not.

A short smile appears on his face and you close the car door, with slow steps you walk towards your home, but it feels like you just left your real home.

Days gone by, and you haven’t heard of him since that tiring day.

“It’s been a while Min, let’s meet at the café.” You decide to text him and be the first who contact, it feels empty without him near, his voice his missing in your ears. Not even an emoji from him, only seen is shown.

Arriving at the café, you search for Dongmin with your eyes, without moving your body a lot, you take a seat at the nearest table. After couple of minutes waiting, the familiar smell of his clothes approached. “Hey... Dongmin-Ah, how have you been?” You stand up to greet him and ask with a smile, that one that appears every time you see him.

-“it’s been good, I met someone...” he says and sips on the coffee he brought along, taking a seat. Your heart skipped a bit and your face forgot that sweet smile as you heard his words. “Oh, what do you mean ‘met someone’? Like...” you try to understand if you got it right and his shining smile already approves what his words haven’t.

-“We’ve been dating since then...” he talks about the day he haven’t seen you since.

“I hope she treats you well, take care Dongmin.” You say and get up of your seat, grabbing your bag. -“Wait, y/n where are you going?” You start to walk slowly towards the door and he’s quick to follow you. -“I thought you wanted to catch up? What is wrong with you- y/n, stop!” He grabs you by the wrist as you start to walk faster, not noticing the car that was driving fast towards your direction, the weather gets colder and everything seems white as if it was snowing.

You turn around to him, feeling like the main character in one of the dramas he plays in, tears streaming down your face automatically, and your blood is boiling inside, heart racing.

-“He could’ve hit you! What the hell are you doing?!” He raised his voice at you, for the first time in his life since you know each other.

“I don’t care! Let go of my hand.” You shout back and people around seem to be staring at both of you.

“Leave me alone. Please...” you start to cry harder and he pulls you into a hug, your hands naturally grab his coat but you try your best to pull away.

-“I won’t until you tell me what is going on.” He says, you could barely hear him behind your back and due to your sobs, but you managed to. “I...” your sobs won’t let you even speak properly and you try your best to fight it back. “I have feelings for you Dongmin-Ah. That is what’s going on.” You pull away from his warm embrace and look him in the eyes although your vision is blurred.

He opened his mouth to speak up but said nothing and lead you to his car, holding your back the whole time until you get in.

-“Y/n... I- I didn’t know that...” he sits in the drivers seat, takes your hand into his and holds it tightly, you try to look away to hide your tears.

“Forget it, can you drive me home?” You pull your arm to yourself to loosen his grip on your wrist and look away towards the window which is getting covered in white slowly as the snow falls softly on it.

-“No. I can’t. I’m not starting the car until you talk to me.” He’s stating. You turn your head to him and see he’s waiting for you to speak up, but you already had enough of this day, and it only started. “Fine. Goodbye.” You open the car door and get out of it, not minding the cold weather hitting you at once and brushing away your hair.

Your tears stopped streaming but they choke you inside, you are getting panicked and searching for your phone in the pockets of your coat, realizing you probably left it in his car.

“Fuck it...” you curse under your cold breath, taking a deep one and decide to go back to his car, but a tall figure bumps into you as you turn around, he grabs you by your shoulders to keep you steady. -“You forgot your phone...” you look up to meet your favorite pair of eyes of his, the one who just got your heart broken.

-“Can you please look at me again and not look away everytime you do?” He says after you take your phone from his hands, it’s freezing cold, but his hands are warm. “And do what? You want me to get hurt again?” You attack him with the only words you had in mind, trying to hold back the tears.

-“Look! Just read this.” He puts his phone infront of you, it shows a chat with someone unfamiliar to you, and few messages from the last couple of minutes.

“What is it, min?” You ask him, reading carefully every single words it says. -“She broke up with me. She saw me with you earlier and said she saw how you looked at me, thinking I’m cheating on her with you.”

“And you came here to blame me for your girlfriend breaking up with you?” You lift an eyebrow, your nose is freezing and you try to breathe normally. -“I came to tell you I like the way she thought were dating, and that I felt free when she sent me those messages.” At this point his voice is softened to the sweetest tone, comforting your broken heart.

-“Can you please come back to my car? Your nose is red already...” he asked and led you to the car again, this time you knew you won’t run away.

“So... what are you saying?” You ask him, sitting comfortably.

-“I thought about it... and it wasn’t the worst idea taking you on a date, I mean, a real date.” He stuttered, yet confident. “The worst huh?” You smile and tease him, it feels different, but it’s the same comforting feeling he gives you everytime.

-“So, would you go on a date with me?” He asks, starting the car.

“I thought it was clear...” you laugh. “All these tears made me hungry, let’s go to eat something.” You came back to yourself, laughing at how he could make you feel better, or should you thank the one he dated until 10 minutes ago?

#astro #astro imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #astro reactions #astro scenarios #kpop imagines #eunwoo #cha eunwoo #lee dongmin #Dongmin #eunwoo imagine #eunwoo scenario #eunwoo imagines #eunwoo scenarios #cha eunwoo imagine #cha eunwoo scenarios #Astro #kpop

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Unexpected

Summary: Accidental relationships are the worst.

Author's note: A silly little drabble(it's like 5k so idk if it's a drabble lol) I created based on an image @prodmina made for me, this is not related to BMTL at all-it's just a side dish I'm offering to my Junjin lovers. A few days ago we both noticed that these two don't really get much fluff without some angst(I'm guilty of this too so no judgement just an observation) Hence this was created, it's just a one-shot because this idea wouldn't leave my mind. This community is well fed but here's some more food for the hungry. And yes my page break this time is Sujin's sexy leg, I have no regrets.

They've been in the same school for as long as she can remember, her striving to be the best student only second to one and him seemingly showing up to drool on the nearest surface and give the female population heart palpitations. She's thankfully not one of his victims- having actual standards and a fully functional hippocampus; ergo while most girls are drawing hearts on their notebooks with Han Seojun opposite their name, she is turning her nose up at them judging them for their lack of foresight. A pretty face would only last for so long.

They stay out of each other's way, the only thing they have in common is Lee Suho- her childhood friend of many years and his best friends despite their varied differences. She and Suho haven't been spending much time together ever since she moved out with her mother, but he was still one of her oldest friend and someone she cared about. Long story short, they both spent years imprisoned with a monster and now they were free.

Her life was looking brighter, more technicolor and staying away from a thug like Han Seojun was only adding to its quality.

Which is why she's dumbfounded when they run into each other, at the most inopportune of time. She's walking home after her academy classes, being a pediatrician isn't going to be child's play and she has to take every possible advantage to make her dreams a reality. Without her father’s money backing her she has to accomplish this with her own merits, she is looking forward to proving him wrong.

Airpods in, she doesn't notice the group stalking her until it's too late. One by one they begin to surround her, leering at her body like she's a piece of meat on display- it makes the hairs on the nape of her neck raise in trepidation and disgust.

"Isn't it too late for a pretty girl like you to be wandering all alone outside?" The one she assumes is the leader croons, voice dripping in faux concern as he rubs his hands resembling a villian out of a 1940′s comic book.

She immediately begins to catalog how many of them there are, strategizing the best way to take them down. Fifteen of them. She can't fight them all, the best she can do is distract a few and make a run for it.

"Isn't it too early for vermin like you to be wandering the streets?" She replies snidely, rolling her eyes when they all whistle at her jab. This is such a pathetic end to her day, it's honestly beneath her.

"I'll make you regret that comment, you bitch!" Already with the name calling, this guy really was a cartoon villian and he couldn't even construct something creative to call her. instead choosing the most generic insult in the book. With a sigh she moves into a fighting position, fists raised guarding her face and legs apart.

"Let's just get this over with, you're sucking up all the air with that snout you call a nose." All she sees is his sneer and eyes huge in rage before he lunges at her, his movements are so predictable and she sidesteps kicking at the back of his knee swiftly. Then she grabs another arm that comes flying at her face cruelly twisting and flipping him over her body, his groan of pain music to her ears. She easily taking them out without breaking much of a sweat, she had been fighting since she was young and they were all clearly not trained fighters, just bumbling idiots playing gangster.

But then she hears the cold metallic click of a knife uncoiling. A shiver races down her spine. They really were low-lives, she hadn’t expected them to actually pull out a weapon.

"You need a knife to take on one girl? Can you even call yourself a gang?" The words are exactly the ones that are in her brain but she's not the one who utters them, a new voice has entered the fray. A familiar voice at that.

This day just keeps getting worst.

"Han Seojun, how about you mind your business we found her first she's ou--"

The rodent looking asshole never gets to finish his sentence as her leg comes flying at his face as she executes a perfect roundhouse kick, slicing through the air and landing devastating blow on his cheek sending him flying to the ground in a heap.

"Damn Sujin! And you call me a thug! I think you killed him." Seojun cries sputtering in disbelief motioning at the motionless body on the ground but she notes the impressed raise of his eyebrow. Like she needs him approval.

While the rest of the band of idiots are helping up their leader she realizes this is her chance, without a word to Seojun she takes off running. Easily jumping over one of her fallen attackers and stepping on his shoulder for momentum, he cries at her harsh treatment.

Turning back she sees Seojun deck a guy in the face knocking him out before he starts chasing after her, his long legs eating up the gap between them in no time, she's temporarily grateful that he's not the one chasing her the damn beanpole.

"Are you secretly a ninja or something?" She snorts at his terrified face, chucking when he keeps looking waiting for an answer as if he truly believes she might be. Nosy idiot.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." She answers straight faced, watching as horror blossoms on his face and her musical laughter saturates the streets as she runs faster, he shakes his head at her smirking in reply.

It's the beginning of the end, but she had no idea.

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Somehow it becomes the catalyst they need to break the seal between them, she expects everything to go back to its rightful place- them ignoring the other’s presence as they've always done and only speaking when they had something rude to say, their normal. But as she's walking in the hallway she hears him shouting her name behind her, immediately all eyes in the hallway dart to them.

"Kang Sujin! Yah! I'm talking to you!" He garners the attention of everyone in the vicinity and she turns around, annoyance purposely all over her face. He needs to know that she is not amused with him.

"Yeah, people across town can hear you. What do you want?"

"Are you calling me loud?" He cries defiantly, obnoxiously even louder than before. The smirk on his face letting her know that it’s intentional, she aches to kick it off his face.

"Is the sky blue?" She sarcastically responds, waiting for him to catch up as they walk side by side.

"A better analogy to use would be is Han Seojun handsome?" She gags as he starts posing with a finger under his chin, in the distance she can hear high pitched squeals of his name.

She picks up her pace, regretting even giving him a moment of her time. She must have lost her mind for a moment, it wouldn’t happen again.

"No wonder you're single. Who could compete with your love for yourself? I have something to do so I'll leave first." She doesn't wait for his response, leaving to do nothing but that's none of his business.

But it doesn't end there, they just keep orbiting into each other. Their groups converging at lunch and when the boys are having a heated argument about who's the best character on Dragon Ball Z, they both passionately shout out "Vegeta!!" In unison making everyone turn to face them in shock that they've agreed on something. They stare at each other as flabbergasted before Seojun pushes his hand out, palm flat and expectant look on his face.

She simply stares back blankly, considering leaving him hanging just to see that stupid offended look he always gets around her but in the end she slaps her hand firmly against his, at least he was smart enough to know that Saiyan prince was the best.

Clap!

"Someone mark it on a calendar! Seojun and Sujin agreed on something!" Su-ah exclaims clapping her hands and smiling brightly, they both argue when several members at the table pull out their phones to commemorate the special occasion. She wrestles with Jukyeong, who's surprisingly strong and breaks free from her hold while sticking her tongue out.

"You're all so annoying!" They both explode again simultaneously, Seojun hanging off Chorong's arm as he tries to confiscate his phone, she glares at him for giving them another reason to laugh at them and Su-ah cheerily calls out, "Add that to the calendar too, they're so in sync!"

It's the worst lunch of her life, she kicks Seojun under the table. This was all his fault. Glaring when he kicks her back and they end up kicking each other until the period ends, oblivious to the stares around them.

At the end of the day she's eager to go home and do nothing, which is exactly when she feels someone tugging at her backpack forcefully dragging her backwards.

"Yah! Let go of me!" She cries out, slipping her arms out of her bag and turning around in a fighting position.

"At ease super soldier, it's just me." He replies as if that means anything, but she does lower her fists; marginally. To let him know she's ready to go at any minute.

"What do you want now?" She grumbles peering up at him and when he turns walking away with her backpack still in his arms, she chases after for that reason alone.

"I'm going to the arcade. They have the new Dragon Ball Z game."

She should go home and study, she promised herself she would review her notes from class today. She couldn't afford to slack off if she wanted a good life after all.

She opens her lips to say all of this, to remind him that they can't all be pretty boy models like him some of them actually had to work for a living but instead she hears, "Fine. You're buying me something to eat."

He begrudgingly agrees after complaining, "Aren't you rich? Why do I have to buy you food?" She skips off ignoring his rationale, only stopping when she sees his motorcycle parked in the lot. She's always wanted to ride a motorcycle.

"Let's take your bike." She says confidently, not leaving him any room to refuse.

He looks at her unimpressed before a cheeky smile spreads across his face, "You've always wanted to ride with me huh? Do you have dreams about it at night?" He teases her and she lazily watches him before walking up to him, looking directly into his eyes. He unconsciously takes a step back and she smirks, stepping closer again.

" Are you nervous? Scared I might really be having dreams about you?" She watches his Adam's apple bob apprehensively before smacking him quickly on his cheek, he jolts in surprise.

"You wish pretty boy. Now get the keys, I don't have all day."

He gulps before snapping back to reality, wordlessly starting his bike.

The entire school watches as they ride off together, her arms wrapped tight around his waist the wind whipping through her hair. She's never felt anything so exhilarating.

Their lives become entangled, it's the only way to describe it somewhat accurately. She goes to his house for weekly dinners and sometimes her mom comes too, his mom is a great cook while hers can barely boil water. It's a win-win scenario. They also study together, his grades aren't horrific but they could be better. There isn't much ceremony, he stomps over telling some boy he needs that seat and she watches as the poor kid scrambles, grabbing all his book and running away apologizing the entire way.

"You have good grades right?" He says matter-of-fact less of a question and more of a statement before he pulls out actual textbooks from his bag. She rolls her eyes before nodding and turning back to her own studies. They study every Tuesday and Wednesday, he's always on time and treats her to tteokbokki. so she allows this transgression.

She knows immediately why he asked for help when she sees his math test magnetized to his refrigerator door, big red A- circled. His mother brags about his score all throughout dinner, even cheering for her when Seojun informs her that she got an A+ on the same assignment. They both blush as she gushes about how smart they are.

When the nightmares get too realistic and she can’t handle it alone anymore, he drops her off to therapy sessions and brings her to the gym after so she can release all her anger on a punching bag. He never asks her what's wrong but he drops her home after and the silence is comfortable between them.

They both never mention their dads but she goes to the cemetery with him and stands quietly as he pays his respect and takes him to get ice cream after, the dinner with his family after is somber but she wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

They never discuss what exactly is going on between them, they're just there for each other and that's enough.

At least she thought it was.

It's stupid but ever since they became...closer he's been getting more confessions than usual even for him they pour down like rain. Multiple girls a day sometimes as if they took numbers and decided to go in order, she dodges them at every turn but there's always a tinge in her chest and she contemplates going to the nurse because there must be something medically wrong with her.

She can barely taste the fried pork as she watches another girl shuffle over to their table, giant red heart box pressed tight against her chest as she approaches Seojun. His friends all notice and are chanting his name, elbowing and shouldering him excitedly.

“Han Seojun! Han Seojun!”

Su-ah suddenly places a warm hand on her knee, she looks at her in shock. Fear gripping at her as the other girl stares at her with gentle comforting eyes. She pushes the hand away. She doesn’t need comfort, she is fine. Fine.

Her throat tightens as the confession starts.

"Han Seojun, I-I've liked you since last year. Willyougooutwithme?" This isn't new, they usually lose their nerve at the end sputtering out their feelings all over him. She never sticks around long enough to hear his answers, but this time she has no choice; if she leaves that would be suspicious. It would give people the wrong impression.

She swallows her blueberry milk, he'd tossed it at her this morning saying he bought the wrong one. Coincidentally that was her favorite. It taste like chalk now on her tongue.

"Sorry, I'm not interested." He answers truly sounding apologetic, she shifts in her seat, pointedly staring at her food. Stifling her smile by stuffing cold noodles into her mouth.

There is a long silence as the cafeteria watches, all waiting for the girl’s reaction. Usually there are tears, loud wailing cries and pleading for another chance, but sometimes they are silent as they walk off heartbroken, friends waiting to soothe them.

The girl sighs, but unlike the others who usually scurry away, she speaks again, "Can I ask why? Do you already like someone?"

A thrumming energy fills the room following her question, girls all looking around at each other, preening hopeful that they've captured the heart of the resident bad boy. She just wants this uncomfortable moment to end already, it's giving her indigestion.

"Yes. I like someone."

It feels like a sledgehammer to her chest, ignoring Su-ah's hand clutching at hers she stands up grabbing her tray. Nobody pays her any mind besides her two best friends, she weakly smiles at them, "I'm all done. I'm gonna head to the library I'll see you both later."

She tosses out her tray viciously, forcing herself not to look back.

Avoiding him isn't easy, he's always there waiting for her or texting her to ask why she isn't coming over for dinner because his mother made her favorite. She's never lied to him before but she finds herself doing just that, feigning illnesses and late night classes. Which only results in him offering to bring her soup and give her a ride to said classes. Like she said their lives were for lack of a better word, entangled.

But she sticks to it, keeping her distance from him as she tries to understand why exactly she's doing this. He's her friend she should be happy that he likes someone, he was an idiot but it was probable that the feeling was mutual. He would finally have a girlfriend, someone to fill the spot she had been temporarily occupying. Someone he could bring home for dinners and someone to accompany him at his father's grave. Someone to talk to late at nights when he had a nightmare about losing his family and couldn’t fall asleep. Someone, not her.

"I'm happy for him. I should be feeling sorry for the poor girl he likes." She whispers to herself, aimlessly scrolling on her phone. Instagram has been a great source of distraction lately. As soon as she opens the app she sees a red dot pop up, a notification. She taps it seeing that she's been tagged in a photo, then another notification pops up and another and another and they start coming in too quickly for her to keep up.

"What the hell?" She admonishes aloud, clicking randomly on one of the notifications ready to see what's causing such an uproar.

It's a picture of her.

She remembers the day clearly, Seojun had forced her to go with him to a new diner that specialized in American cuisine, all so he could stuff his face with pancakes. She had no clue he'd taken a picture of her. Something that feels butterflies flutters in her stomach as she reads his caption.

How do you get a princess to forgive you?

Was this some kind of joke? What the hell was he thinking? She bulks at all the likes and comments on the photo after only two hours, she'd never gotten that much attention on a photo but she rarely posted pictures of her face. There were a lot of creeps online.

Nervously she taps to view the comments, it's a mixed bag of reactions. Girls she's never met before cursing her very existence as if she's a threat to their imaginary relationship with him and the very same creeps that caused her not to post selfies on her page posting disgusting sexual comments.

She instinctively taps to reply to rip them to shreds before she realizes that Seojun has already replied to every comment from a guy, threatening them explicitly and a few comments are even accusing him of deleting comments. There are a few comments calling her pretty but those are few and far in between and usually they are attacked in their replies by other jealous fan girls.

Anger bubbles in her gut, what the fuck was he thinking posting a picture of her for all these vipers to see?

Impulsively she taps the screen harshly, fingers flying across her keyboard.

Delete this now. Are you insane? Who are you calling a princess?!

Almost immediately she regrets her rash decision as comments flood in.

How dare you talk to oppa like that?

Oppa see she doesn't deserve you!

Who is this snotty bitch?

You're not pretty enough to be this stuck up honestly, no offense.

You should be happy a hot guy is posting you, ungrateful.

She's tempted to reply to each comment, who did think they were talking to, she wasn't some pushover, let's see if they would have this much gall to say this to her face. She'd taken on a gang of would be thugs, she had no problem beating some sense into some bitches.

But they're not worth her time or energy.

Swiping the app close, she takes a calming breath. Counting to three. Then five. Then ten. Then twenty. When her anger is nothing but a low thrum beneath her skin, she opens her contacts going to get favorites and clicking his name, bringing her phone to her ears.

"Finished ignoring me princess?" He answers smoothly, sounding far too relaxed for all the trouble he's caused. She wants to wring his neck.

"Have you lost your mind?" She cuts to the chase, huffing angrily as her phone buzzes with more notification. "Han Seojun you better delete that picture right now!"

"You've been ignoring my calls and texts and pretending you don't see me at school. What else was I supposed to do?" She can hear the strain in his voice, but he doesn't sound angry, no that's his hurt voice.

"I've just been busy. You didn't need to do something this... extreme."

He scoffs, clearly not believing her excuse. It sounds weak to even her own ears, they'd gotten too close they made time for each other, doing the most mundane things together, he even helped her clean her house sometimes and she would regularly help him shop for groceries.

"Come open your door. I think we need to talk."

He hangs up after his statement, leaving her to stare at her phone in shock.

"That little piece of shit." She curses, running a hand through her hair before she hops out of bed, running to open her apartment door. She slows down as she nears the door, not wanting him to think her too eager. She's not.

Running her hand through her hair again, she slowly pulls open the door. A breath swooshes through her lips at the sight of him, she's been avoiding him so much it's overwhelming to be staring at him directly like this.

They stare at each other, the air unexpectedly charged between them as their gazes meet.

"It's rude to leave someone standing outside." He quips finally, pressing past her before she can reply to his complaint, she huffs in annoyance stepped aside to give him entry.

Familiarly he toes off his boots, putting on the slippers her mom had purchased for him after his presence became more constant. Then he strides across the small space of her living room, sitting on her couch and glancing at her expectantly. She closes her door with a sigh, walking over and sitting in the single love seat. He stares at her hard. She struggles to keep his gaze.

"What did I do? Whatever it is, I'm sorry. If you tell me what it is, I probably won't do it again."

She's so taken back by his immediate apology that she stupidly focuses on the least important word in the sentence, "Probably?"

He shrugs in reply, "I like pushing your buttons. You like it too. So I can’t make promises until I know what I did.”

She can't argue with his assessment, they did have a very unusual relationship built on mutual sarcasm and backhanded compliments. They both were masters of never truly saying what they were thinking or feeling, too scared of rejection to make the final jump of fate. So they just kept crashing into each other, prodding and poking without recognizing why.

"I'm not mad at you." She admits, she has no reason to be upset. He hadn't done anything besides like someone else, that wasn't a crime. Unless the judge was her heart and then he had committed the most heinous of crimes.

"Then why are you avoiding me?" The crux of it all, she was avoiding him because he forced her to acknowledge the secret she'd kept so hidden even she was unaware of it until it hit her over the head.

"Why do you care so much?" She counters defensively, feeling naked under his penetrating stare.

He laughs coldly, "Answering my question with a question. Never took you for a coward Kang Sujin."

She bristles at the snide remark, who was he to call her a coward?

"If I'm a coward why are you here? Why post my picture on your Instagram? Don't you like someone, why are you here bothering me!" She hisses at him, each word gradually increasing in volume until she's screaming at his blank face. Then he starts laughing, pure unhindered laughter from his belly that stings her ears. She made herself too obvious.

"Aren't you supposed to be smart?"

"What do you mean by tha-" He cuts her off before she can finish shouting, "How do you not know that I was talking about you?"

Her voice drains like water slipping down a sink as she hears the words he said, she blinks before her mouth falls open in shock.

"Was I really letting you tutor me? What was I thinking?" He laments to the ceiling, mocking her but she's too riled up now already climbing out of her seat and striding over to him. He jolts backwards as she places her hands on his shoulders, searching his face and delighting at his wide eyes before climbing into his lap. He wheezes but his hand immediately latch onto her hips. She stares at him closely, eyes trailing from his hypnotic eyes, down to his lifted pert nose and lingering on his full plush lips.

"You like me." She states, watching how his eyes flutter shut before landing on her own lips.

"I thought it was very clear. Who else could I have been talking about, I spend all my time with you."

He's right, they did spend a lot of time together prior to her self-preserving decision to avoid him like the plague. She hadn't realized when her feelings for him had changed, thinking they were simply friends the entire time. A friend that she thought about constantly, who she wanted to spend all her time with and sometimes she's idly imagine kissing or holding his hand. She certainly hasn't expected anything.

But here he was offering. She wasn’t a good enough person to turn it down.

"I'm going to kiss you. Stop me if you don't want that." She states boldly, now that she knows this is on the table, he's on the table she is practically starving and all her doubts have transformed into the desire, the desire to touch and be touched. He glances at her, his patented 'are you stupid?' stare and she laughs before smashing their lips together. It's hard and a little uncomfortable, with their lips just roughly pressed together and she wonders if they're doing it right before his hands stroke her cheeks, tilting her head as he slows down the kiss until it's sweeter and softer and oh, is that his tongue? He swipes at her sealed lips and she only hesitates for a moment before slowly opening and allowing him entrance.

This takes the kiss to another level, as her head swims at his flavor- something spicy and earthy irrevocably Seojun that she finds addicting and she eagerly sticks her tongue into his mouth, licking at his moist cavern. Wet smacks fill the air as they suck at each other's face, his large hands nearly circling her waist entirely she shivers at the touch, feeling small and delicate in his arms. He reaches up a hand to caress her hair and she mimics the move, pushing her hand through his thick hair tugging at the end of his mullet. When they break apart, panting into each other's mouths she feels like her soul has been set ablaze.

"Since you're so smart I guess I don't have to tell you how I feel." She says trying to regain her composure and her breath, her lungs feel winded like she's run a marathon.

"Of course not. Everyone likes me, you're no exception." He replies cockily and she groans in exaggerated disgust pushing him away and clamoring out of his lap, but he tightens his grip with a deep chuckle easily manhandling her until they are laying on her couch, her back to his front. His breath is hot on her neck.

"My mom will be home soon, we can't stay like this." She warns reaching back to move his arm which is digging into her back, dragging his arm over her waist and squirming until she's comfortable.

"I know. We still have an hour. She's working overtime tonight."

Of course he knows her mom's schedule, she tries to smother her smile. She fails but nobody seems so she'll take it as a partial victory.

He reaches over her, grabbing the remote before switching on Netflix and putting on a movie they'd started before but never finished because she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He had complained about her drooling on his favorite sweater the next day at school, as she shushed him and people looked over at the odd pair.

"You're gonna delete that picture right?" She asks, only barely focused on the movie too distracted by his warmth behind her. She has to smother a moan when he starts stroking aimlessly on her waist. His fingertips igniting her skin in a warm burn that travels to her heart and lower.

"Humph why can't I have a picture of my girlfriend on my page?"

She turns around immediately, "Girlfriend? Who said anything about that," she rebuttals watching his eyes narrow until they're barely slits. She doesn't hate that look on him.

"You kiss someone who isn't your boyfriend like that?" She blushes at him mentioning that, the kiss still very vivid in her mind, her lips still tingling.

"Shut up." She huffs punching him in the chest, but he catches her hand and yanks her close until they're chest to chest, noses almost touching, lips a hair's breadth apart.

"I'm going to kiss my girlfriend, stop me if you don't want it." He echoes her earlier words, gripping the back of her head as he stares at her a clear challenge, smirking when she doesn't move away before he devours her lips again. She groans around his tongue in her mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as their lips slide wetly against each other.

When the jingle of keys sound several minutes later, she tumbles off the couch frantically as her mom pushes the door open. She wipes her lips, before looking up at Seojun; he looks wrecked- hair tussled and sticking up in different directions, his cheeks are burning red looking hot to the touch and his lips are sore and wet. Her heart does a somersault in her chest at the sight.

Fuck. That's my boyfriend.

She lets him keep the photo on his account in the end, it keeps the hungry fan girls away and guys leave her alone for the most apart. She ignores his smirk when he sees her comment under the photo.

To everyone who has something to say, Han Seojun is mine. If you have a problem with that, come say it to my face.

Nobody ever comes to say it to her face.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous princess.” He teases her, and she scoffs at him, “You’re one to talk, didn’t you almost get into a fist fight today because someone commented that they wanted to ‘tap that’?”

He growls at the memory of that, only the principal strolling in had stopped him.

“You guys are perfect for each other, both deadly and gorgeous.” Su-ah adds gleefully pushing her way between them and linking arms on both sides.

She pushes his hand away when he immediately reaches for her, “Yah! Give me back my girlfriend!” He whines desperately trying to circumvent Su-ah and grab her hand, whining loudly about third wheels and people trying to get in the way of true love.

She’ll never get tired of hearing that.

She was Han Seojun's girlfriend and he was her boyfriend, everyone could stay mad.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #han seojun #kang sujin #junjin #junjin superiority #the power they hold #I would kill for a season 2 focused on them #fluff #first kiss #park yoona #hwang inyeop #idiots to usdiots

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reifromrfa · 3 years

Text

Surprises: Vanderwood x MC | Mysme RBB fic

Hi guys! I’m sure you’ve seen this project in the fandom, there are a lot of talented artists and writers who are a part of it ^^ This piece is for the @mysme-rbb and it was such a thrill to write it! I’ve missed writing for the fandom and I’m glad I got this opportunity to do so <3 Even luckier that I got paired with two amazing artists!

For this first collab, I got paired with the wonderful GLX ! Please check out their instagram HERE! We’re super lucky to have collaborated on a character we both love: Vanderwood! So I hope you enjoy the story and I hope I can write for everyone again soon ヾ(@^▽^@)ノ PS: I’ll edit this post with the link to the art once it’s out! ^^

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Surprises

In collaboration with gl.artsy

"Hurry!"

Vanderwood chuckles and closes the car door, hoisting bags and baskets on his arms and shoulders. MC laughs and hugs the beach towels to her chest, grinning widely.

"Sorry...I'm a little excited," her grin turns sheepish but Vanderwood shakes his head, his smile mirroring her own. Seeing her this happy makes him feel things he hasn't felt before --pleasant feelings. Feelings...that a secret agent just doesn't have the luxury to be thinking about, much less feel. But he's not a secret agent anymore --he has a legal job now, one where he doesn't have to risk his life everyday or dirty his hands. Hell, the dirtiest his hands can get with his new job as Jumin's bodyguard is cleaning up after his cat.

With his free hand, he reaches for hers and weaves their fingers together.

Today is their one-year anniversary and Vanderwood wants everything to be absolutely perfect. He's not one for grand gestures and romantic stuff, but he knows celebrations like these matter to girls.

In the past year he's been with MC, he's gotten used to watching those cheesy romantic chick flicks. Never in his life did he imagine he'd be forced to watch those kinds of shi--stuff. But he's braved through The Notepad, A Stroll to Remember, Crazy Silly Love...and he's learned a lot from those movies. For one, his girlfriend ends up crying every time they watch the shows together.

Every. Single. Time.

But he'd see how immersed she is in the scenes where the guys make a big move for the girl. Vanderwood would notice how she heaves a deep sigh and wipes her eyes, a dreamy smile on her face.

Ha...he's new to this relationship thing but he's not stupid; Vanderwood knows how this works. The bigger the gesture, the happier MC will be...

...right?

He's startled out of his thoughts when MC tugs his hand, pointing at a spot on the beach. "Over there! There's a free spot there!"

Vanderwood follows after MC and starts setting up their towels and beach umbrella. This is the first step in his grand surprise for MC today: spend the morning at the beach, a place MC rarely went to. The excited look on her face is all the confirmation he needs; he did good, choosing this as the start of their date.

MC sits on the towel under the shade of the umbrella and takes off her wide-brimmed hat, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opens them, she turns to Vanderwood. "Baby, this is perfect. The skies are clear, there's a breeze and there's not much people; it's almost like we have the beach to ourselves!"

Vanderwood chuckles, sitting beside his girlfriend and reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. "You like it?"

At his touch, she blushes and smiles, nodding her head. "I do, Vanderwood. I really do."

He leans forward, lips quirking up into a smirk. "Good...that's real good, MC." Vanderwood can see the blush on her face deepening as he inches closer and his own heart races, eyes darting to her slightly-parted lips. As he draws nearer though, he hears a whooshing sound through the air and a distant yell: "LOOK OUT!"

His reflexes kick in and Vanderwood pulls MC against his chest then pins her against the ground, using his body to shield her from whatever it is --MC doesn't even have the time to process what's happening. But she feels herself warming, eyes fixated on Vanderwood's tense expression, at the way he's hovering on top of her, holding her protectively against him.

A second later, their umbrella is knocked over and a spray of sand flies across Vanderwood's back. He turns away and shields MC's eyes, a million thoughts already flying through his mind.

"Could it be that some agents found me? How many are there? How am I gonna get MC safely to the car? The taser's in the bag, if I could just reach it in time

"Vanderwood turns his head to look for the target-

-when his eyes fall to the white volleyball lying on the sand near them.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, that's my fault!!!" A kid with blonde hair is running up to them, waving his hand and trying to bow at the same time. Vanderwood's eyes narrow. Wait a minute...isn't that-

"Yoosung?" comes MC's voice.

Sure enough, Yoosung's purple eyes widen as recognition dawns and he laughs, running faster. Right behind him is the silver-haired actor and Jaehee Kang, all dressed in their beachwear. Zen smiles when he spots the two familiar faces but it only lasts for a second --the moment he realizes the position the couple are in...

"YA!!! Vanderwood! What are you doing!" Zen glares at Vanderwood, pointing an accusatory finger at the Silver Spoon's bodyguard. Vanderwood narrows his gaze at the actor but hurriedly straightens himself, his face feeling warm.

"Baby, are you okay?"

"I am...what was that all about?" MC takes Vanderwood's hand and he pulls her up just as Yoosung stops in front of them, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Sorry! Zen hit the ball too hard and I received it wrong so it went flying...I didn't know it would end up here where you guys are! I didn't even know you two were going to be here too!"

Vanderwood rubs the back of his neck, wishing they'd leave him and MC alone. It's not that he doesn't like them, but today he'd like MC all for himself. "Ha...yeah, what a coincidence."

"Ya, you!" Zen jabs a finger at Vanderwood's chest, eyes blazing. "What the heck was that!"

Vanderwood looks at Zen with a deadpan look on his face. "I thought there was a threat, so I was defending my girlfriend. Will you stop having perverted thoughts?"

MC giggles. "It's true, Zen! He was just trying to protect me~"

"That's very quick thinking." Jaehee pipes in, picking up the ball. "I suppose that's what makes you a great bodyguard, Vanderwood."

"Ha...thanks." Vanderwood feels awkward still, but for an ex-agent with no family and no friends...his life's shaping out real good. Still, friends or not, he wants these people to go away and let him pamper his girlfriend. "So, now that that's settled-"

"OH! Why don't you two join us in a game of volleyball? Please!!! I'm tired of picking up the ball all the time!" Yoosung begs them, hands pressed together in front of him.

"Aww, that sounds fun! We're game, right, baby?" MC says, winking at Vanderwood. To the others, she says, "The two of us will be in a team against you guys! You'll see, Vanderwood will carry our team!"

Vanderwood can't help but feel proud at MC's words. Okay...maybe one game of volleyball wouldn't hurt. After that, they'll go back to their spot and maybe he can go swimming with MC, or get some cool drinks.

Yoosung, Jaehee and Zen stayed with them the entire time. After volleyball, they took MC and Vanderwood to their rented cabin and shared their meal. Vanderwood and Zen ended up grilling meat and seafood for the rest but it was actually fun. The non-stop chatter and laughs, the volleyball games, seeing MC enjoy herself --okay okay, it's not so bad that their first date got interrupted. But of course, Vanderwood has more tricks up his sleeves.

A long drive and a shower later, Vanderwood and MC change into more semi-formal attire as he drives them to one of the fancy restaurants in town. The restaurant is situated atop a building, with the entire floor encased in glass windows so guests can dine with a view overlooking South Korea. It's fine dining and Vanderwood has never been to a classy restaurant while off-duty; to be honest, something like this kinda suits Jumin Han more...but Vanderwood doesn't want to take MC to their regular dining spots. No, for this special day she deserves something special too.

As they're led to their seats by the hostess, Vanderwood once again intertwines his fingers with hers. "I heard this place has the best seoullangtang."

MC tugs at his hand, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Baby, this place is really expensive...you didn't have to."

Ha...oh no, doesn't she like it?

"It's our anniversary," he tells her, lifting their hands and then turning hers so he can kiss the back of it. "Don't even think about that, baby."

MC turns red at Vanderwood's blatant display of affection. Usually, he's more reserved and careful when they're in public; she assumed it's because of his past and she didn't mind. But today, he's been more touchy and showy...MC has to admit, it's giving her heart a pleasant workout. They're seated right by the window and Vanderwood is the perfect gentleman, pulling her chair out for her and helping her onto her seat. MC feels shy all of a sudden as Vanderwood slides into his seat across her. With the dim lighting from the restaurant, the candle in the middle of the table casts Vanderwood's face in a warm glow and MC unconsciously swallows, entranced by him.

Their previous dates were never this fancy and she's not complaining --she loves wherever they are, be it the beach or the supermarket, a fancy restaurant or McFonald's. As long as they're together, she's happy.

But seeing her boyfriend all dressed up in a crisp button-down shirt and a coat, hair tied into a half-ponytail, brown eyes staring at her --she can't help but feel the depth and seriousness of their relationship. Today is their anniversary, which means she's spent 365 days with this man...more than that, of course. Ever since they met, her days have been full of color and life. MC reaches across the table for his hand and holds it tightly in hers.

"I love you, Vanderwood."

Vanderwood's glad it's kinda dark because his heart does that weird little thing and he feels his cheeks burn as a smile spreads across his face. "I love you too, MC."

She mirrors his smile and it's strange but MC feels like she did the first time she met him in person, nervous and intimidated, but at the same comforted by his presence and intrigued. This once mysterious man is hers and though she knows she's barely scratched the surface of all that he is, she can't wait to learn more about him everyday, for the rest of their lives.

"Baby, order whatever you like, okay? Haha, don't be worrying about the prices." Vanderwood says as they open their menus. MC's eyes are skimming through the dishes (half of which she can't even pronounce because they're in different languages) when she hears the sound of a familiar voice.

"I didn't expect to see you both here this evening."

Vanderwood tenses. No freaking way...

But he's been hanging around that voice for months now and he'd recognize it anywhere --his boss, Jumin Han. Vanderwood reluctantly looks at the man standing beside their table, the leader of the RFA at his side. Jihyun at least looks apologetic for barging into their date.

"Jumin! Jihyun! What a coincidence!" MC exclaims happily, smiling at them. Truth be told, she was looking forward to spending more alone time with her boyfriend, but she also doesn't want to be rude to her friends. "Did you guys just arrive?"

"Yes. A business colleague recommended this place. I would have asked for a private room but Jihyun preferred to stay close to the windows."

Jihyun laughs good-naturedly at Jumin's words. "This place is popular for their stunning view of the city, after all. We should get going to our table, Jumin, let's not bother them..."

"Have a good time, boss, Jihyun." Vanderwood gives them a little wave. "Nonsense. We haven't seen MC in a while. Perhaps we should ask for a bigger table and dine together."

You've got to be kidding me.

"Jumin-" Jihyun tries to interrupt, but Jumin is already gesturing for the host. In mere minutes, Vanderwood and MC are seated with Jihyun and Jumin. Of course...it's not all that bad. He didn't have to be so formal with his boss since they're outside of work, and Jumin knew his way around the menu; the meal Jumin ordered for them was mouth-wateringly delicious. Vanderwood had no idea which ones were good, so he's grateful for that part, at least.

But seriously...this was starting to get annoying. Would the RFA be popping up at his planned dates with MC? Vanderwood represses a sigh though, and fights the itch for a cigarette.

They enjoy their meal and, realizing he has no choice but to endure it, Vanderwood relaxes and allows himself to enjoy the company.

All of a sudden, they're bathed in a hue of colors and MC's eyes turn to the windows, widening with surprise. The sky is lit up by fireworks --something Vanderwood had arranged for. Her eyes are bright and her smile is priceless. As the fireworks paint the night sky with streaks of brilliant color, MC feels a peace inside her, knowing that's exactly what she was thinking of moments before. Vanderwood is like the scene outside, illuminating her life with the most dazzling colors.

And while MC gazes at the beautiful display, Vanderwood stares, enchanted, at the woman who brought light to his life.

The last stop of the evening is the last showing of the latest romance movie, a movie MC has been waiting for. Vanderwood settles into their comfortable lazy boy couches, glad he paid for these seats.

"I'm so excited, I've heard a lot of good reviews already!" MC whispers to him, leaning close. Vanderwood chuckles.

"Baby, it's gonna be amazing." He leans closer to her, stealing a quick kiss in the dark theater. MC bites her lower lip as he pulls away, wanting to tell him how much she loves him. But the movie starts and MC has to stop herself from squealing in excitement. She keeps her hand locked with his, eyes focused on the screen.

Vanderwood feels relaxed now, knowing no one can interrupt them, knowing he can enjoy this moment with his girlfriend and sneak glances at her cute reactions.

But just thinking those thoughts has jinxed the situation. The doors to the cinema creak open and Vanderwood picks up the sound of popcorn bags and two hushed whispers. He glances at the empty seats beside him and sighs.

"Oh! If it isn't Mary and MC!"

Vanderwood curses inwardly and almost slaps his hand to his face. No. No freaking way. No damn way.

But after some shuffling sounds, Saeyoung plops down on the seat beside Vanderwood with Saeran occupying the other.

"Ohoho, I didn't know you were into romance movies, Vandy~" Saeyoung whispers before leaning forward in his seat and waving at MC. "Hi, MC! Thanks for restarting this guy's heart! If you ask me, you should have used a tase-"

"Ya! Shut up!" Vanderwood says, a little too loudly. The audience shushes him and Vanderwood slinks into his seat while Saeyoung covers his laughs with a hand.

For the duration of the movie, Vanderwood has to put up with Saeyoung's reactions and his hushed side comments. At some point, popcorn starts to fly towards the brown-haired man too, bouncing off his hair. Saeran shakes his head, heaving a sigh as Saeyoung takes another popcorn and throws it subtly to Vanderwood. The ex-agent was ready though; he catches the popcorn and throws it back to Saeyoung, who slides down his chair dramatically.

"I've been hit...Saeran ah, save yourself~~~"

Vanderwood glances at MC's face to watch her reaction and he's surprised to see her eyes fixed on him. She's biting her lower lip, trying to stop herself from laughing. Vanderwood smirks, reaching out and freeing her lower lip from her bite.

"You want a shot at the idiot?" Vanderwood murmurs near her ear. MC nods and takes a piece of popcorn then tosses it to Saeyoung, who's crawling up his chair as quiet as he can.

Saeyoung gasps and flops back down on the ground, holding his chest as though he's wounded.

"Sneak attack! Saeran, help m-"

"No."

"Okay no ;;;;"

Vanderwood stirs, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

Damn, what time is it?

Yesterday felt so long --with all that happened, Vanderwood feels exhausted and a little disappointed at himself for failing MC. Everything should have been perfect, but as luck would have it, the RFA just had to meddle in all his plans.

He lays in bed, blinking away his sleepiness, wondering if he can do anything today to salvage their anniversary. Absently, he reaches beside him, wanting to pull MC to his side and wake her up with kisses --but his hands come up blank.

"What the-?"

His head whips to the empty space beside him and Vanderwood sits up just as the door opens. MC comes in, balancing a small tray table filled with food.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Vanderwood asks, bewildered. He starts to move from the bed but MC makes a sound and continues moving towards him.

"No no, you stay right there," she says, eyes staring at the orange juice sloshing inside the glass. "Don't get off the bed, baby!"

Vanderwood freezes, unsure what's happening. Finally, MC lays the tray table on the bed and beams at Vanderwood. "Happy anniversary, baby!"

The brown-haired man blinks, surprised. Then a soft chuckle escapes his lips. "MC, baby...did you do all this for me?"

MC shrugs, her smile wide enough to light up the room. "Maybe~"

She carefully sits on the bed closest to Vanderwood, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Baby, yesterday was amazing! I wasn't expecting those surprises at all."

Vanderwood's brows furrow. "What do you mean..? MC...I...was gonna apologize-"

"What? For what?"

Vanderwood awkwardly scratches his cheek, not sure what to say. "Uh...ha, 'coz I didn't intend for the RFA to show up. And I mean, anniversaries aren't supposed to be celebrated like that...right? The movies we watched, the celebrations ain't like that."

Giggling, MC leans towards her boyfriend and kisses his cheek. "Oh Vanderwood, it was perfect. I had so much fun, even more so because our friends were with us celebrating our special day with us.

Without the RFA, you and I would have met in a different way. But I like our love story, because everything that has happened so far has led us to this moment, baby." She holds his hands, cheeks turning red. "I loved watching you play volleyball and grill our lunch, I loved listening to you talk with our friends, I loved catching my boyfriend all dressed up to take me on a fancy dinner, and I loved that you sat through another romance movie with me, all the while having a popcorn battle with Saeyoung."

MC squeezes his hands and all of Vanderwood's doubts vanish; his eyes fix on her, his heart beating loudly against his chest.

"Vanderwood...the girls in those movies we watch get one big gesture per movie but I got three amazing dates in one day. My friends were there to celebrate a special day with me: the anniversary of the day I promised forever to the love of my life. And I-"

Before MC could finish her speech, Vanderwood closes the gap between them and meets her lips for a kiss, pulling her close to him without toppling over the tray. MC's hands clutch the front of his shirt and her eyes close, her body tingling as he pours his emotions into their kiss.

"MC," Vanderwood says breathlessly, leaning his forehead against hers, "I love you. I'll keep takin' you out for dates, keep celebrating this day with you every year. 'Coz it's the day you and I got together, the day my life started to make more sense..." He gives her another peck and pulls her closer, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But every day you remind me that there's more to life than fighting and running. Every day, I wanna see you smile and hear you tell me you love me."

MC giggles and wraps her arms around him. "I love you, Vanderwood." She lays her head on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart, a heart that's tied to hers. "Yesterday was amazing but today I'm keeping you all to myself."

Vanderwood chuckles, reaching for a piece of bacon and holding it near her lips. MC takes a small bite from it and Vanderwood takes a larger chunk. "You and me all day, huh?"

MC nods, reaching for her phone. "You and me, all day, everyday." She holds the phone away from them, opening the camera app. "Happy anniversary, baby~"

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Thank you so much for the opportunity to participate, @mysme-rbb :) I had fun and kudos to the mods for an amazing project!

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

I’d be honored to write your story <3 (Commissions are full and closed atm ;A;)

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h2bakugou · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could I request Baku and a female s/o and you have a quirk like La Brava that when you tell someone you love them they power up a lot and it depends on how much you love them and Baku is fighting a villain and getting the crap beaten out of him so you tell him you love him and it’s the first time so he’s a little taken a back but he wins the fight and then there’s just a cute fluffy ending!

a/n: hi!! yes you can! ahhh la brava was such a cute character, i love her sm. i apologize if this is a little short, my writer’s block has decided to vibe check me

summary: during an intense battle, bakugou is having a tough time. you’re about as beat up and tired as they come but you're able to use your quirk to help bakugou out.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / love - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

word count: 1.1k

»»————-　★　————-««

The fight was unexpected. Everyone was unprepared but you can’t always know when a villain is going to attack, but it’s a hero’s job to asses the situation even when they don’t have time to do a great analysis.

On the rare occasion that Class 1-A got to leave campus to go do some hero training, the villains took the opportunity to make life for Class 1-A living hell, yet again.

It was even worse that these villains were good. Like really fucking good. It made matters worse that you were separated into groups as if you hadn’t learned your lesson from the training camp. But you couldn’t just always assume that things were going to go south when you stepped off campus, it was just one of those things that you hoped didn’t happen but eventually always did.

It wasn’t Mr. Aizawa’s fault, and it sure as hell wasn’t U.A.’s fault, but the villains clearly had an interest in your class, or at least one of you enough to constantly target the class.

The man who stood before you was complicated. Tall and draped in dark robes, he looked like a magician with the large top hat that rested on his head.

“Phantasm! At your unlawful service.” He boasted. He looked like he’d been ripped straight form a comic book, the evil villain get up clearly radiating from this guy.

“Oi! Shut the hell up!” Bakugou charged at the guy but as soon as his fist seemed to connect with the guy, he disappeared and reappeared behind Bakugou, knocking him down.

“Who would ever be so foolish! You don’t attack your elders!” Phantasm’s hand chopped the center of Bakugou’s head, sending him spiraling to the floor.

“Fuck.” Bakugou cursed, his body unable to move.

This goes on for a while along with your futile attempts to attack the man. You’re laying on the ground before you know it, beaten and bruised to no end, dried blood caked onto your skin under your nose and around your hands and knees.

Your knuckles are bruised from landing many of your attempted punches into a brick wall instead of him.

Your body hurts, and you can tell that Bakugou can’t take much more either.

“I expected so much form U.A. students. Such a pity it seems, do they just let anyone in nowadays?” Phantasm sauntered over to Bakugou who knelt beside you.

“Run, go.” You urged for Bakugou to go get help.

“Are you fucking stupid? I’m not leaving you here-”

“You can’t fucking carry me just go and get help.” You try to limp away back to a wall to support yourself but Bakugou isn’t having it.

“You motherfucker-” Bakugou is pissed. He’d had enough of watching you get your ass beat. But even he was having a tough time with this guy. This was not good.

Bakugou stood and made one last attempt to knock the guy down, or at least touch him.

And just like the first time, he slipped right through his fingers just when Bakugou thought he’d got him.

“Too slow I’m afraid. And now you have to die!” Phantasm shouted.

“No!” You cried out, your broken sob earning the attention of the man holding your boyfriend by the collar of his hero costume.

“Perhaps you’d like to go first?” Phantasm looked at Bakugou and then back to you.

Your heart raced. You had too. You had to use your quirk. It was hard. The lump growing in your throat was unlike anything, you’d say what you were about to do was harder than facing this guy.

You’d never in the months you’d been dating Bakugou said ‘I love you’ yo one another.

Phantasm tossed Bakugou down who let out a groan when his body connected to the floor.

“Any last words?” Phantasm towered over you as he brought his hand down, it seeming to glitch in and out of reality. It approached your chest faster and faster.

Now was not the time to have cold feet.

“Bakugou, I love you.” You yelled. Bakugou’s eyes widened. A glowing gold and pink aura circled around Bakugou as he felt his wounds healing and his body seemingly coming back to life.

“What did you just do!?” Phantasm shouted, his head whipping back around to look at Bakugou.

“She just gave me the best fucking power-up.” Bakugou smirked, charging at Phantasm, much faster than before.

It caught him off guard, and he couldn’t react in time. Not enough time to ripple himself away behind Bakugou.

Phantasm didn’t stand a chance. By the time backup had arrived, Phantasm had been apprehended and tied up with your capture weapon.

“You guys look like shit.” Sero commented acknowledging your beaten state. Bakugou had one of your arms slung around his shoulder while his other wrapped around your waist holding you up.

“Glad to see you two made it out okay.” Mr. Aizawa stood in front of you, his eyes scanning over Bakugou’s state before looking at you.

He knew, he’d guessed you’d come to your senses finally.

Your quirk was difficult to understand. And you’d spent a few extra hours explaining to Mr. Aizawa just how complicated it could be.

See you could say you love someone all willy nilly any day and give them a strength boost, but real love, real raw emotion that you felt toward another person was on a whole other level.

Your relationship with Bakugou had been public for a bit, but to see Bakugou physically unscathed in any way made Mr. Aizawa wonder just how powerful your quirk could be on someone you truly loved.

“Let’s get you to the hospital.” Mr. Aizawa commented, nodding to Bakugou, giving him the go ahead to get in the car with you.

On the car ride there, Bakugou held you in his lap, his hands drawing shapes on your skin to calm you .

“Did you really mean that?” Bakugou whispered, his voice just barely able to be heard.

“Mean what?” You whispered back, your eyes closed trying to regulate your breathing.

“You said ‘I love you.’ Did you mean it?” Bakugou questioned.

“Of course I did. I was terrified, but I was even more so of losing you. I love you. I could say it a million more times, and a million more after that.” You felt his hand fall into yours, his fingers twirling around yours.

“Good because I love you too, dumbass.” Bakugou kissed the side of your neck softly, his lips tickling your skin.

“Don’t ever try and tell me to leave you again. I won’t leave your side.” Bakugou whispered, his hand gripped your tighter.

“Thank you.”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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ageoldamateur · 3 years

Text

Introduction to my OC (Full story release!)

I think I should at least try to post the entire story now that I finished writing it.

While this is my first story posted here and my very first G/T story I have ever written, I have to apologize anyway for the way this story is set out as I do not know enough about Tumblr to formulate them into the same style as other writers here (Canadian policy, I must apologize to keep my citizenship). I don’t know how to bold letters or put symbols up, so I will just write as I would normally.

Also, while this is the first introduction of my Tinysona until Pixie draws me, this does not mean that I will not change anything later when I grow more comfortable with my Tinysona.

TW: Pre-vore, Safe/Soft Vore

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

I guess I need to introduce myself, should I?

You can call me Spartan and 2 months ago, I was a normal person. Just about to turn 22, I was thin and healthy and should have been happy with my life.Then I meddled with magic and ended up as small as the average finger. However, that spell also granted me strength, agility, and endurance many times that of my previous self, which I believe is a good enough trade off. Still, I needed food and safety, so I went looking for a place before getting taken in by Rose, another human who seemed to be completely fine with having a tiny living with her. I will later find out why later...

Rose sat at the table, a large hardcover book sitting in front of her. One hand held her chin while the other lightly wrapped around Spartan, who was using her fingers as hand holds so that he could see the pages. This was the third book of the series and both of them were concentrating, leaving the air still in the morning rays.

Standing on Rose’s shoulder with one of her fingers pressing against his collarbone, Spartan finished the page and set his head down on the finger. He had only known Rose for 2 months now, but it felt like a lifetime. He only had to live a life alone and shrunken for a few days before he found comfort in Rose. Of course, he had scared the daylights out of her when he first got her attention, but the bruise faded the next day and he was able to talk to her as an equal after that.

Now, they lived as a couple, or as much as you can when one of the people was the size of a finger and thus couldn’t work a job or around the house. It infuriated him, but Spartan tried to make it up by working on her computer and organizing everything there while Rose did her job. There were only sparse moments where she would read with him, so he treasured them and hoped that she didn’t mind that he couldn’t handle the books she owned.

Spartan spared a glance towards Rose, her green eyes steadily following each line on the page. If he was regular size, he highly doubted he would have landed anyone like her and even now still wondered why she let him stay. Sure, he did some tasks around the house, but nothing she couldn’t do faster and more effectively than him. Maybe there was something he wasn’t seeing.

Looking back down, his eyes focused on the finger that was closest to his head. Spartan was no stranger to the weird impulses that he got (autism never made anyone normal), but he took some time to ponder what the impulse was before acting on it.

Rose just finished the last paragraph of the page when she felt a soft pressure on her finger that held Spartan. Confused, she glanced down, using her freed hand (the one not holding Spartan) to brush aside her hair. Sure enough, Spartan was gently biting the side of her finger; in no way close to hurt, but much life how a dog holds something in his mouth. Rose was close enough to notice how Spartan’s eyes were unfocused, a sign that he was dissociated from the world around him.

“Are you biting me?” Rose asked skeptically. Snapping back into the real world, Spartan quickly let go.

“No! No, I wasn't biting you. I was just resting my mouth on …” His excuse died on his lips as he realized that he really did not have one other than an impulse, which sounded as hollow as the one he just said. Rose just stared at him for a moment longer, Spartan blushing and looking away, then slightly shrugged and turned the page.

***later that same day***

Spartan woke up the phone and checked the time.

7:37. He still has over half an hour until he expects Rose to leave work. Perfect.

Spartan quickly unlocked it and picked his playlist: a collection of sea shanties and folk songs. While Rose knew about the playlist, he never played it for her; different music tastes were perfectly fine in a relationship as long as they understood what the other wanted to listen to. Spartan usually listened to the playlist while working or in this case when he was finished and wanted to belt out songs.

As he picked out a song to start the playlist on, he mentally checked the list again, even though the physical copy was lying on the table in the kitchen, marked by himself. He did all the preparations for Rose’s taxes, organized the cabinet and the food within, and made sure Rose’s makeup was up to date. He had also given Chilly some exercise even though that wasn’t part of his list; though the cat understood Spartan’s place in the household, it still didn’t stop the kitten from chasing him around the house whenever she got the zoomies.

Spartan finally settled on a classic; “Home Boys Home,” by the Skullduggers. Pressing play, the music blared out of the bluetooth speakers; not loud enough to cause a noise complaint, but probably too loud for his ears health. Spartan sprang onto the coffee table and began to sing at the same level of the music, arms singing by his side as he paced around and followed the music.

As the song changed, Spartan would take a moment to recall the lyrics, then bounced to the beat. He didn’t know how long he sang for (he knew almost all of them by heart), but he had eventually grown tired enough to sit on the table, hands behind him and legs outstretched. He couldn’t see the clock, but suspected Rose to arrive home at any moment. When he heard the door open, he would turn off his music.

Spartan felt the warmth before the teeth met his chest. He flinched out of fear, letting out a manly squeak as they gripped his torso and lifted him off the table. Rose held Spartan sideways in her mouth much like a cat would a fish she caught and flopped down on the couch, turning off the music with a tap on the phone.

“Jeepers, Rose! I didn’t hear you come home!” Spartan said, his free left arm keeping Rose’s lips from suffocating him. He wasn’t necessarily stuck, he was much stronger than he appeared to be, but he still didn’t know how much his augmented endurance could endure should Rose bite down. “When did you arrive?”

Rose loosened her mouth, letting go of Spartan so that he tumbled off her chin and landed on her chest. “About an hour ago, before you began to sing your songs. I had a short day today, but decided to climb in through the window cause I didn’t want to deal with Gabe’s smoking in the hallway again.

“You really didn’t notice me gathering snacks and getting ready for movie night?” She asked. Spartan blushed, noticing now that Rose’s arms and hands were full of treats. That would explain why he ended up in her mouth, though the way she did grab him (sideways so that his head wasn’t in her mouth) meant she would have had to have craned her neck at an awkward angle in order to grab him.

“Sorry Rose, I guess I was quite invested in my music.” Spartan said, stepping a little closer to her collarbone, if only to get away from the potential awkwardness of being sandwiched in her breasts. “What movie did you pick?”

Rose grinned and pointed towards the TV where the DVD was sitting. Spartan bounded over and took a glance. “A Sizable Matter”, directed by Rogers Phill <fictional, don’t need to look it up>. It was advertised as ‘safe and fun for the whole family with stunning action and a romance of unusual proportions’. Ratings appeared good, but Spartan knew not to trust those. Before he shrunk, he had seen the critically acclaimed “5th Element” and thought it was terrible and sexist in a modern standard.

But, this was another one of those times where he could hang out with Rose, so he popped it out and slid it into the player. He hopped back as Rose began working on some gummies. Spartan chose one for himself and began munching; he wasn’t much into sweets on the regular but hey, he could treat himself if he wanted to.

The movie was actually really good, alternating perspectives between the race of Giants and humans. The main character was known as a Shifter, which meant they could alternate between the size of a giant or a human. It was their duty to solve the conflict between the two races with the help of several side characters.

Both Spartan and Rose were invested, Spartan resting on Rose’s throat, only slightly distracted by her swallowing. Eventually, the movie reached a close, the Shifter and their friends having almost finalized a treaty before a full fledged war happened. However, the main villain triggered a trap that sparked the war to happen in earnest. Just as the Shifter and their allies were about to head off again, the movie ended.

“Oh, are you kidding me?!” Spartan shouted, falling off of Rose in the process of reacting to the abrupt ending of the movie. Rose didn’t react to the same effect, she wasn't as invested in films like Spartan; yet she did utter a grunt of annoyance.

Rose watched as Spartan fell off the couch, thudding onto the ground and lying there splayed right beside some fallen Gummy bears. “I don’t know about you, I really enjoyed the movie.”

“Same here, but my goodness, there needs to be a sequel made immediately!” Spartan said, grabbing one of the gummies and hugging it to his chest. “The Shifter was the best character! They were so wholesome and adorable; the moments where the movie decides to slow down and let us watch them just cuddle their friends were perfect breaks in between all of the combat scenes!”

“I agree,” Rose said, reaching down to grab the gummies around Spartan, “they were the ideal hero. Though if I am to be honest, I grabbed the movie because of one scene shown in the trailer.”

“What scene was that?” Spartan extended his arms towards Rose with the Gummy in hand.

Rose smiled. From the floor, Spartan suddenly got worried as he saw his friend from a very different perspective. “This one.” She said.

Her fingers reached past the extended Gummy and grabbed Spartan’s chest, wrapping gently around him. Popping the other Gummy bears into her mouth, she raised Spartan over her head and gave him a good view of the inside of throat. She swallows, Spartan watching as they disappear down her gullet. He dropped the one he was holding, it landing on her tongue and then joining the others in her stomach.

Spartan knew the scene of which she was referring to. A giant monster had nearly eaten one of the Shifters' friends much like the predicament he was in currently. However, Spartan assumed that no hero was going to be saving him from this maw.

With no more gummies to eat in her mouth, Rose closed her mouth and locked eyes with Spartan. She smiled at him and Spartan returned it, though a bit confused as to what was happening. She lowered him down towards her mouth, still smiling. Spartan closed his eyes.

And Rose gave him a kiss, her lips almost sucking his face off before she pulled him back. “Oh, don’t worry yourself, I won’t be doing anything to you. After all, you are the only man who has ever cared about me.” She set him down on the coffee table and let her arm hang off the couch.

Spartan, still a little confused at the sequence of events that had just happened, sat up and watched Rose settle down and cover her eyes with her right hand. He crossed his legs and listened as Rose spoke.

“Before you scared the living daylights out of me, I hated my life. My job felt like it was draining me of energy and there was only Chilly at my home which felt more like a burden than a blessing. I had no one who I felt like cared about my interests, checked to make sure I ate, and accompanied me when I went out. I honestly felt like there was no reason for my life.

“Then you appeared, asking for my help. And once I got over my shock of your appearance, I realized that I could help you, I had a purpose again. Now whenever I get home, I can look forward to hanging out with you to read my favourite book or play chess or just talk and chill. It was like having a boyfriend that never demanded sex or asked for favors. It was like a dream come true.

“In more ways than one…” Rose mumbled.

“You are into vore?”

Judging by the silence of Rose, Spartan thought right, though her example kind of gave it away as well. Spartan stood up and hopped back onto the couch, crawling onto Rose’s stomach. Rose raised her arm to look at him.

“Rose, I have been so blessed to have been able to meet you. It boggles me to think that if I didn’t cast this spell I would not have met you or even be able to get to know you. I wouldn’t have been able to know that you enjoy mystery and steampunk stories, or that your favourite colour to wear is red because it reminds you of Autumn. I wouldn’t know that you were mistaken for a boy all the way up till grade 11 and you learned how to cook from your older brother.” Spartan said, walking up towards her head.

“You said your life got a purpose once I entered it. Well, I didn’t know what I was missing until I began to live with you. I found that I was capable of love and was worthy of affection. I was allowed to be weird and helpful and now that I have learned that I have helped you? I feel like I have actually done something for you now.” Spartan allowed himself to fall forward onto Rose’s cheek, giving his giant friend a hug to the best of his abilities.

Rose closed her eyes, feeling the closure of her tiny friend. She allowed her mind to wander and thought about a scenario where she could have met Spartan when he was the same size as her. Rose probably would not have spared him a second glance at a man just going through the motions. But because of a happy little accident, she had a person who shared feelings with her sitting on her face.

“Soooo… this vore thing.”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing! Forget about it!” Rose said quickly, picking up Spartan and setting him down on the couch, sitting up as well.

“No, no, I am sorry if it is too awkward to talk about it!” Spartan said as he was set down. ‘It’s just… I also might be into it.”

Rose froze, mouth slightly opened. Spartan continued, “Of course, I have only used my imagination, so I have no clue if I would actually enjoy being swallowed, feeling the warmth of someone I love surrounding me.”

Spartan looked up at Rose, a flush creeping across his cheeks. “I never thought there would be a chance for me to make it a reality. Actually, that sounds quite selfish. I never thought I would be given the opportunity to experience it. Er, or that you would offer. Wait, you didn’t offer, I was just rambling, or am rambling, or just talking to myself-”

Rose poked him in the chest, pinning him down with her hand and her finger covering his mouth. It covered most of his face, leaving just one eye to lock in on hers as she leaned down towards him.

“You’re so lucky you are cute,” Rose said softly, “or else I would never be able to stand you.” Rose smiled and Spartan could see the warmth in it; despite the teasing, she really did care for him. Adjusting her grip, she picked up Spartan, holding him up towards her face.

She sighed, “I am actually going to do this, aren’t I?” she said more to herself, looking Spartan up and down. “Do you consent to being swallowed up by a hot and beautiful girl?”

Spartan looked around. “I don’t see one around, is she hiding?” He smiled at his joke as Rose scoffed. “I consent to be swallowed up by a hot, beautiful, intelligent, and amazing girl.” Spartan said slowly and clearly, locking eyes with Rose.

“Well, since I’m the only girl in the room, I hope that means me.” Rose said nonchalantly. Taking a steadying breath, she put Spartan into her mouth feet first. He fit without too much difficulty, squishing comfortably past her teeth as he was pushed all the way in.

Rose didn’t know what she expected to taste, but it certainly didn’t taste as exhilarating as the fics she had read led her to believe. Also, he was quite large now that he was in her mouth; normally she wouldn’t notice but because she didn’t dare chew, all she really did was move Spartan back and forth in her mouth.

Spartan was holding his breath just in case he realized that he couldn’t breath in there. Other than that, he absolutely enjoyed his time, rolling over and over again across the sticky surface, occasionally bumping into the teeth. He could feel that Rose was trying her best to get comfortable with him, but was struggling.

“Ugh, ‘ow ‘o ‘hey ‘ake it ‘ook so easy?” Rose said, opening her mouth to speak and give Spartan some fresh air. She let her tongue rest and felt her throat relax as well. Getting a spike of courage, she started to tilt her head back.

“That’s the same question I would expect some newly weds would ask.” Spartan said, his voice barely making it out of her mouth.

Rose snorted, then gagged as Spartan’s bare feet hit her tonsils. Still chuckling and coughing, Rose spat out Spartan into her hand and turned away to cough into her elbow. Spartan sat on Rose’s hand, curled up with his knees to his chest now that he was out of the warm environment.

“*cough* You really said that at the *cough* worst time, Spartan.” Rose said, starting to recover. She looked back at Spartan sitting in her hand, worrying that she had hurt him when she convulsed. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, though I feel like I just got out of a nice warm hot tub.” Spartan said honestly. “I don’t know if you are comfortable with this yet, though. I might be too big for you to go all the way with, no offence.”

Spartan stood up on Rose’s hand, eyes towards the ground to hide his disappointment. “I did enjoy being in your mouth, though. It was exactly as I imagined it to be; warm, comfortable, and the closest I’ve been to you bef-”

Rose, in a surge of frustration, shoved Spartan not too gently up and then down, effectively overriding her natural gag reflex through sheer speed. She swallowed hard, feeling Spartan slide down with ease before catching her breath. Then she realized what she had just done.

“Oh heck… I really did just eat him,” Rose said softly, looking down at her stomach. She jumped up, rushing over towards the bathroom. Just as she opened the door, she heard Spartan.

“Rose? You sound panicked, is everything okay?” His voice was muffled, but clear enough to understand. The voice was definitely coming from her stomach and Rose could feel Spartan shifting around to get comfortable. Rose sighed, leaning up against the sink and looking at herself in the mirror.

“Yeah, I am feeling better now that I can hear you.” Rose paused. “How do you feel?”

Silence. “Like I am safe and secure. I feel like I am getting a full body hug. Though, the Gummy bears in here kind of ruin the moment…” Spartan said.

Rose laughed. “Sorry about that. Next time, I will make sure your cuddle buddies aren’t as sticky and sweet. I wasn’t exactly planning for this when I got home from work today.”

Rose closed her eyes, feeling Spartan’s movements and a surge of parental protection. She could feel his limbs against her abs and could picture him in her stomach. She had been looking at the entire idea of vore the wrong way; She felt more protector than predator and it was amazing.

“As much as I would love to stay like this forever, I feel like we should think about how I will be getting out; I don’t know how safe this is. I think it’s because of my heightened endurance from the spell that has allowed me to breath so far, but I don’t want to press it.”

“Well, I think there is only one way for you to exit,” Rose stated, leaning back over the sink.

“Technically, there are two…”

“Shut up.” Rose said, then tried to trigger her gag reflex. After a while of trying, Rose felt Spartan shift around and reach up and suddenly it became a lot easier. She deposited Spartan into the sink and turned on the faucet for him.

“That was an amazing experience, Rose,” Spartan said, sticking his head in the water. “I just hope that you enjoyed it as well.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Just got out of me and already jumped to the initiative in taking care of me.” She reached into the drawer beside the sink and pulled out a washcloth. She set it down next to Spartan, then stepped out of the room to give him some privacy.

“Well, did you? You asked me how I felt when I was in you.” Spartan said. There was a moment of silence as Rose thought about her answer. “I just realized how much of an innuendo this can be seen as. Should we pick a name for this experience? Something tamer?” Spartan added.

“Maybe later,” Rose sighed, putting her back on the wall and letting herself slide down until she was sitting on the floor. She rubbed her eyes, the memory of the experience still quite vivid in her mind. “To answer your question, I don’t really know yet.

“I went into it with an expectation, as most people do, and had those expectations quite subverted by reality. It was scary and surprising, but after I committed to it, it felt… comforting. I liked the feeling you gave me; it was as if I had hidden you away from the entirety of the world, all of the harm and hardships couldn’t reach you anymore.”

Rose rested her hands on her stomach, remembering Spartan cradled within her. “I already miss it, even though it hasn’t even been 2 minutes since you were there.”

“Well, you can always look forward to the next time those cravings hit.” Spartan said, strolling past the door wrapped up in the washcloth and viciously rubbing his hair. “Though, maybe without having eaten a ton of gummies beforehand. I think I have turned permanently sticky!”

Rose laughed, then scooped him up. “Come on, sticky boy, it’s almost 12. I need to get to sleep so that I can make it to work tomorrow.” She put him in his alcove, then disappeared into her room with Chilly.

Spartan got settled down and thought back on his day. He smiled. It was a pretty good day.

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I think I need a break from vore, I don't know how I will top this for a while. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed my… interesting writing style compared to the other writers on this website.

#g/t #wholesome giantess #g/t community #g/t fluff #soft vore #giant vore #giant/tiny #spartanwarrior2563 #pre vore

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